me: damn, i wish i could write about canon wesker being a good, loving partner and possibly growing to be a good person, but it would feel too ooc to feel right. oh well, guess i'll stick to enjoying him as a toxic f/o-
the humble wesker clone with a generally nicer demeanor and so little screentime or backstory i can project just about anything i want onto him:
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â Clark Kent â Part 02 â Part 03 â Part 04 â Part 05 â Part 06
â Detective Comics (DC)
Masterlist | @staseras
Masterlist | @snoopysupe
table for two | @hearts4hughes
meet the kents | @/hearts4hughes
wanna be yours | @/hearts4hughes
the trouble with jimmy | @myladybelle
when you move from smallville to metropolis, clark thinks he finally has his chance to confess. instead, he ends up with a front row seat to you gushing about jimmy olsen every day. what he doesnât realise is that youâre trying to set jimmy up with your neighbour, and youâre starting to see clark as more than a friend.
front page crush | @/myladybelle
everyone at the daily planet knows about your hopeless crush on superman. what nobody expected was for him to save your life, agree to an interview, and maybe even flirt back. least of all clark, whoâs had a crush on you for years.
yes, maâam | @night-scare
Clark likes his editor, even if she's a little mean to him.Â
IN PLAIN SIGHT Masterlist | @anon-188
youâre in love with superman. clarkâs in love with you. the only problem? you think theyâre two different people.
Will you marry, kiss or kill me? | @vitoriadior
Where you decide to kill Oliver Queen, kiss Clark Kent, and fuck/marry Bruce Wayne. Clark hears you and can't stop overthinking about it all dayâwhy would you want to marry or even fuck Bruce Wayne and not him? You don't want to marry him? To fuck with him?
Soup Deliveries |Â @starluved
You don't come to work for a while, Clark worries about you and brings you soup.
DOPPELGANGER |Â @clarktologist
a night out goes a bit awry when you forget your boyfriend is both superman and clark kent.
Field Trip Savior | @caoimhewritesfics
Your field trip gets rudely interrupted by another inter-dimensional monster. Superman saves the day and steals your heart
Imagine | @siriuslylantsov
using clark as your own personal heater, or rather a blanket.
things my chronically offline bf does | @staseras
clark kent thinks tiktok means the passing of time, youâre a (wannabe) influencer. what could possibly happen? answer includes but isnât limited to thirst traps, using your hot bsf to go viral, online anonymous confessions, and one really old cat named bean.
My daughter doesnât fly | @orobaxis
Bruce has to watch Leia and Damian for a night. It was doable, until Clark Kentâs daughter started flying around the batcave.
My daddy is Superman! | @/orobaxis
Leia tells her kindergarten class that her dad is Superman. When mild-mannered reported Clark Kent comes to pick her up, the entire class is disappointed.
Your Favorite | @caoimhewritesfics
Clark makes you his your favorite food for dinner. Based loosely off the scene between Clark and Lois
Field Trip Savior | @/caoimhewritesfics
Your field trip gets rudely interrupted by another inter-dimensional monster. Superman saves the day and steals your heart
guilt of the quiet one | @fromsil
your life was unraveling, little by little. bored and drained by your job, terrified of your brother, and silently denying the weight of your own depression. nothing made it easier, especially when one of metropolisâs most persistent reporters began digging into places he definitely shouldnât have.
Masterlist | @finelinevogue
bare minimum or princess treatment | @/finelinevogue
you ask clark the tough questions; whether something is the bare minimum or princess treatment
come home, smallville | @/finelinevogue
youâre in a car accident, your boyfriend is living in another city and it all gets too much
iâve got you | @/finelinevogue
clark saves you just in time, but you don't make him aware of the extent of your injuries
FROM GOTHAM, WITH LOVE | @mcumorningstar
you meet clark when he's on red kryptonite and, even though he's back to his "normal self", you can't stand him and his nice guy act. things come to a head at the school dance.
the clark kent problem | @hexedlover
Your washing machine breaks, and Clark Kentâperfect, helpful, devastatingly kind Clark Kentâimmediately offers his. The same Clark youâve been pathetically avoiding because being around him hurts too much when youâre this gone for him. But itâs late, itâs raining, and heâs being so characteristically sweet about it that you canât say no. What could go wrong?
Smallville, 11:59 | @/hexedlover
Youâre a little tipsy on your momâs Riesling and hiding from a house full of family. Heâs the boy next door who smells like safety and saves the world in his spare time. Youâve been in love with him your whole life, and tonight, with the New Year about to dawn, you get the feeling he might just feel the same way.
Masterlist |Â @maiamore
KILLSHOT| @/maiamore
Clark Kent scores an interview with Bruce Wayne's infamous sister â you. Except you don't make it easy for him.
MINDS OF MEN | @/maiamore
Clark gets more well-acquainted with Bruce Wayne's sister â covering a gala following the death of Gotham's mayor.
you overhear something, clark defends you | @headkiss
youâre shy and not the best flirt, clark likes it (and you) | @/headkiss
find me somebody to love | @supershit-hits
clark has the perfect plan to get to know the love of his life. it consists of eight dates, eight carefully crafted steps, and if all goes well, a happily-ever-after. but when jimmy sets him up on a blind date with you, sticking to the plan turns out to be a lot harder than he thought.
mysteries of our disguise revolve | @/supershit-hits
youâre just the new intern at the daily planetâanxious, invisible in your books, and falling for the man who, disguised, saves the world between coffee breaks. he could catch the sky if it fell. but for some reason, he keeps choosing to catch you.
i never was the good samaritan | @/supershit-hits
a stupid bet between two coworkers with allegedly opposite morals. if allâs fair in love, war, and corporate life, then whoâs willing to be kinder for a month?
work wife | @clarkkentluvr
baby daddy | @/clarkkentluvr
superman reveal | @/clarkkentluvr
Can't Lose You | @pellucid-constellations
Clark always made you promise to run at the sight of danger. You listen to himâusually.
The Weight of Us | @/pellucid-constellations
You find out Clark is Superman, and he finds out what it feels like to lose you. In more ways than one.
clarkâs got a crush! | @peachyparkerr
jealousy, jealousy | @marwrite
superman doesnât get jealous- but clark kent does. he lets it linger, lets it fester, lets it shape months of almosts and maybes- until a harmless lie turns into shared routines, soft touches, and feelings neither of you were meant to fall into.
figure it out | @/marwrite
clark shows his love for your friendship in many ways. fetching your lunch, carrying your things for you, always being there when you need him- but who could have imagined it would include kissing you on the lips? every casual peck makes your head spin, your heart stammer; until one night, one lingering kiss finally answers all your questions⌠and then some.
sweet mr kent | @/marwrite
clark found every excuse to be near you; fixing, helping, pretending it was harmless. but every smile, every soft thank you dragged him toward a line your youth made unforgivable. you were temptation itself, and even the good men fall.
the one thing clark can't do | @/marwrite
itâs no secret; superman can do anything. save worlds, stop disasters, even play the role of a clumsy reporter. but after the day he saved you, thereâs one thing he canât do: forget you.
Companion | @murdockparker
You were an adult, with adult money. You can buy things that bring you joy! Hopefully your boyfriend never finds out about it.
Cat Got Your Tongue? | @/murdockparker
Your cat is your life, lovable and sweet... to you. She seemingly is allergic to strangersâall but one in a red cape, it seems.
just one | @geminiwritten
you and clark have been best friends since college, and you know everything about each otherâincluding his superhero identityâbut tensions have risen since you started working with him at the daily planet, and after superman is exposed to a 'truth telling toxin' you decide to take a little advantage of the fact that he can't lie.
Complicated | @/geminiwritten
you've been best friends with clark since high school, but moving to metropolisâand crashing at his apartment until you get a job and find your own placeâis stirring up old feelings you thought you'd buried for good. so you accept the only job offer you've gotten... at luthorcorp, which somehow turns into a date with lex luthor, and you're left praying for someone super to swoop in and save you.
e.t. | @aliendickrocks
You are a scientist that is assigned to a top-secret government facility that houses an extraterrestrial subject to learn more about where he came from. In this he is not Clark Kent or Superman, just Kal-El. Martha and John did not find him, but the government did.
yes, ma'am, part 2 | @night-scare
clark likes his editor, even if she's a little mean to him.
family album | @/night-scare
clark doesn't want to ruin what you both have.
Superman | @pretty-little-mind33
Lois and Jimmy have a theory that Clark likes you, which has to be ludicrous, right? Why would Clark Kent like you of all people? You don't understandâŚwell, until Clark tells you himself.
some protector | @eulogiez
it had months since you and clark had broken up. months of mutual heartbreak and turmoil, whether either of you knew or not. little did you know, clark had been watching you for months now, even in your distance wanting to make sure you've been okay. miraculously, superman's there when you experience a little run-in with the wrong person at the wrong time.
loving is easy, | @/eulogiez
clark is so easy to love, and heâd like to say he tries to make you think the same of yourself. maybe his efforts have been futile, because you donât feel any less motivated to break things off one random saturday; but heâs not willing to let you go that easily.
a simple kiss, kissing clark headcanons, | @/eulogiez
tabloids and toothache, | @/eulogiez
youâre nothing if not committed to your work. so youâre saying yes in a heartbeat when your boss prompts your suggestion that you get an inside scoop on clark kent, renowned daily planet journalist, on his ties to superman. but one thing leads to another when the relationship that kindles between you becomes something more, something real. needless to say youâve become committed to more than the bit.
silver springs | @dumbbandpoetic
clark loses the girl he loves more than anything in the whole world, so his solution is to pine and yearn and wait for her, with no real clue as to what he's going to do when he gets her back. basically, clark kent gets haunted by his ex-girlfriend.
first day | @/dumbbandpoetic
in which clark kent and his wife haven't had a quiet day in their house since their daughter april was born, but now that it's time for her first day of school ever, they're both a little upset by the silence.
heat vision | @/dumbbandpoetic
in which clark kent has a little problem he can't control. specifically, every time he gets just a little turned on, he sets something on fire with his eyes. pair that with a beautiful girl who's already onto his secret? not a good match...
Surviving Kent @lo-vearchive
You spoke to the cute reporter from the Daily Planet for the first time at your local coffee shop. You had seen him many times before. He was hard to miss with how he towered a foot over everyone else, squinting through his thick glasses to see the menu on the wall. Then one day he asks you out to dinner only to not show up. Life in Metropolis was just great! You just loved being clowned by a boy you liked. You hope that Superman beats the shit out of him for breaking your heart.
Big Blue | @/lo-vearchive
You think your coworker Clark is actually Superman. You ask him out to dinner to determine the truth, only to hurt his feelings. One bad confrontation and two sexually charged encounters later, you decide to stay clear of him at work. Except you really can't, especially not when you know he wants you just as bad, too. That's okay. You'll just have to seduce him into giving in.
Cherry Coke | @/lo-vearchive
Youâre not sure when the hating game between you and Clark Kent began, but you did know you were going to win it. He was unprofessional, perpetually late, blatantly disrespectful, and just too average to be promoted to senior journalist. So when you get an opportunity to âinterview Lex Luthor, you jump at the chance to drag Kentâs face through the mud with a high-profile article of your own. Too bad you both donât seem to understand that love and hate are two sides of the same coin.
leave a message at the tone | @simplyseveredslut
in which Clark becomes very familiar with your voicemail after choosing work and Lois, once again. when you finally call, heâll drop everything for you.
Rock Me, Sway Me | @bowandlacy
superman accidentally reveals his secret identity through a hug.
Neighbourly | @little-miss-dilf-lover
Cocktail Umbrella | @kitywrites
Reader is a field photographer for the Daily Planet, specifically tasked with photographing Superman. Youâre always getting into strange and dangerous situations for the perfect photo, knowing that Superman can save you. Unfortunately, Superman doesnât have time for selfies, but Clark will always make time for you.
Is there an application process? | @/kitywrites
You comfort Clark (your best friend since college) after the news of his secret harem gets out.
What you donât know | @mayfieldss
In which the reader has a crush on Superman and Clark at the same time, unaware they are the same person.
dating Clark Kent headcannons | @/mayfieldss
What Everyone Knows | @tw1sters
Your not-so-tiny two-year crush on Clark Kent is an open secret in the office, hopefully one that he still isn't privy to. However, the holidays have a way of bringing feelings to the surface, regardless of whether youâre ready or not.Â
tow your heart away | @theworstwolvie
you were just doing your job. how were you supposed to know superman would fall in love with you?
All's Fair in Love and Tug of War | @kaciidubs
You really couldn't fault Krypto, you knew his favorite game was tug of war - you just didn't think he would try to play it with you... or your towel.
Sleep Alones |Â @/kaciidubs
You leave Clark alone after a shared nap, and he's quick to let you know how he feels about it.
Little Things, Big Things | @froggibus
after cancelling date night yet again, Clark reminds you that you are the most important thing to him
Shouldâve Said It | @tbyfandoms
after having a fight at work with your boyfriend, clark, you go to his apartment in hopes of making amends. what you don't expect is to find out he's been keeping a big secret from you, leaving you with a mix of emotions
You knew when work was stressing him, he would simply pinch the bridge of his nose, tuck his chin near his chest, adjust his glasses, and straighten the tie that didnât need fixing. And whenever the world was weighing on him, he would bury his pain into a ferocious bite in a delicious pastry at his favorite bakery.
But nope, you never saw a tear. He simply never cries, you believed.
That is until the heavy doors of the venue swung open.
As you stepped into the view, you could hear the entire room catch their breath in awe. There were friends, family, coworkers, and you could even hear the proud hums from them, as well as the gasping. But once your eyes averted from the flowers in your hands to meet Nanamiâs eyes, you realized no one had seemed to lose it completely like Nanami.
Instead of merely adjusting his glasses, his trembling hands removed them, pressing his hands to his beet-reddened face. The tears that you swore were dry pellets in his system that didnât budge, were wet streams down his cheeks and unstoppable.
Oh boy, and as you drew closer, he covered his mouth, desperately muffling the sob that wanted to praise you; that wanted to worship how beautifully the dress accentuated every curve in your body; that wanted to tell you how your curls complimented your face, and just how lucky he was.
But just like the very best best man should, Yu had completed the words Nanami couldnât.
âI told you she was going to break you man,â he exclaimed, handing Nanami the handkerchief from his suit pocket into his shaky hands. âLook at her! Youâre the luckiest guy alive.â He cheered, rubbing his back and gazing at you.
When your feet brought you to the altar, stopping right in front of him, your heart thumped at how completely undone he looked. His eyes, still welled with tears, were almost puffy. His hair that were slicked sharply when you first entered, had a couple strands that fell to his forehead.
He pulled his glasses to his face, lenses fogging up immediately from the heat. He swallowed hard and took your hands in his. Gentle, as always. The trembling had faded under your touch.
âKento,â you whispered, smile at your lips.
He looked into your eyes at the sweet call of his name from your voice, breath shaky once he stared into yours.
âI am indeed, the luckiest man in the world.â
a/n: thought of this when thinking about the idea of my bf not crying at the sight of me at our wedding like boy i will turn around and keep walking out until you do.
BOYFRIEND! NANAMI who adores your daughter, though he isnât her father, and has never heard of a father-daughter dance. Not until your little girl came home from school one day, her face full of tears as she made her way over to him and tugged on his clothes. A flyer was clenched in her small fist.
Nanami looked down at her with a soft gaze, and she asked softly, sadly, âCan you go to the dance with me?â She sniffled as she spoke.
âHm? A dance?â Kento took the flyer from her.
Her elementary school was hosting a dance for, of course, fathers and daughters, and it would take place in one week.
No wonder the fatherless girl was crying.
But he kneeled down, smiled at her gently, and promised her that he would take her.
And he was ready. He didnât care how much his job needed him. This was an important day, and he used his all-too-rare vacation time for it.
The day of the dance, your little girl was squirming around and humming along to the songs she had been listening to all week in preparation for the dance, much too excited to sit still as you tried to style her hair.
Kento bought flowers for her. Made sure his outfit matched her dress. One could say he outshined the actual fathers at the event.
And your little girl knew well he wasnât her father, but that didnât stop her from introducing him to all of her friends and teachers with a bright smile and a happy, âthis is my daddy!â
Kento knew then that he wanted to marry you. He wanted to marry you, he wanted your little girl to be his little girl as well, he wanted to give your little girl a sibling, he wanted â no, needed â all of those beautiful things to happen. And as he lifted your daughter and twirled her around in a dance that would certainly win them the Best Moves Around! Award, he couldnât help but start to imagine how heâd propose to you. And soon.
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What ifâŚwe reverse the roles for a second and imagine it's you who takes Peepaw Joel's virginity?
Yes, of course old Joel dated. Plenty. I mean, look at him. Women were gushing for him. But going to bed with them? Never happened. And after the outbreak, sex just wasn't his priority. Survival was. Trust was. And by the time he reached Jackson, he'd built walls so high that even he forgot there was a virgin hiding behind them.
But Jackson changed things. Tommy was happy. Maria was pregnant. Joel watched those couples walk hand-in-hand, and something twisted in his gutâa hollow ache. He never had that. Not even once. And now he's sixty, belly soft from steady meals, hands calloused from years of work, he figured it's too damn late.
Who the hell would want a grumpy old virgin?
Then you came to Jackson.
Bold, young, too goddamn pretty. Everything Joel needed to stay away from, because his heart couldn't take it anymore. But when you placed a kiss on his cheek, told him he looked handsome, and invited him over to your houseâhe couldn't possibly say no.
"Ain't never...done this before," he blurted out the moment your hand slid under his shirt, while you sat on top of him. He braced for your reaction, embarrassed, but you only cooed, kissed him, and promised to take real good care of him.
And yesâJoel's cock was excited. He's old, but he's not dead. The moment your hands started roamingâhis thigh, his belly, the zipper of his jeansâhe hardened like a rock. Blood rushed to his groin with a desperation he'd never felt before.
But his insecurities hit hard. When you started to tug his shirt up, he grabbed your wrists. "Too much gut on an old man like me."
You just nuzzled your face into the soft skin of his belly and told him how much you wanted it pressed against you while he fucked you.
And when you finally wrapped your hand around his cock for the first time? That poor old man nearly had a heart attack. Deep, shaky moans spilled from his mouth. He tried to stay quiet at first, but the new sensations wrecked himâlittle gasps, grunts that turned into desperate groans, maybe even your name said like a prayer when he got close.
First time your cunt clenched around him? He was already gasping. A few pumps up and down, and he was babbling: "I'm gonnaâfuck, I can't hold itâstop orâ"
And he spilled inside you, all pathetic and breathless, gaping for air. His cock pulsed and pulsed, twitched and twitched until he collapsed, face buried in your neck, breathing hard. He was mortified. "That...that was damn pitiful. I'm sorry."
But you just stroked his hair, smiling to him. "It was perfect. And we've got all night."
And because he's old but not spentâonce he caught his breath, his cock stirred again, curious and ready.
This time, you let him take control.
He was slower. More gentle. He wanted to please you. Wanted to make up for that quick finish. So he fingered you, licked you, followed your instructions until he had you gasping beneath him. Then he pushed in again, and he lasted longer. He learned. He memorized every sound you made.
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Summary: Letting go is hard to do for both of you. But as they say, if you love someone, you have to let them go.
Warnings: Death, Grieving, Mention of Injury, Swearing, No Use of Y/N.
Italics indicate inward thinking.
Word Count: 3,966
Joel sat on the porch swing, staring lovingly at how the late evening rays illuminated the varying deep shades of your hair, how it flowed down past your shoulders and blew gently in the summer breeze. God you're a work of art. He'd taken so much for granted before, but now, every time he casts his gaze upon you he savours each and every second.
The slope of your nose, the faint lines at the corners of your eyes, the few strands that have began to turn grey, even the way you hold yourself. If Joel had his way, these moments would never end. These are the moments when his life makes sense. Where he can breathe and just.... be. Where the gnarled roots of wretched sorrow and anger briefly release their strangling grip on his tormented soul.
In these precious moments, in your presence he can once again feel a spark of life ignite inside him, can almost feel the broken shards of his heart piecing themselves back together. He doesn't care how many times Tommy and Ellie have expressed their concern for his mental well being, or how they've begged him to open up to them and not shut them out. He doesn't need their pity or 'support'. You're all he needs.
"You're staring again," you chuckle, while turning to stare at Joel's warm eyes. A fond smile twitches at the corner of his mouth. "I'm sorry, I guess I am," he replies softly, but his tone is anything but apologetic. "I just can't help it. You're so beautiful." You smile sadly, looking down at Joel's hand. You reach over, instinct and love propelling you to take hold and lace your fingers with his.
But at the last moment, you stop and drop your hand to your lap. There was no need to look at Joel to know the anguish and longing written all over his face. Hell, you feel it too. The deep rooted need to feel each other's skin and warmth is overwhelming for you both. But it's no use. It can't happen now.
"So are you," you whisper affectionately. Your smile fades and Joel furrows his brow in confusion. "You've been awful quiet this evening, sweetheart. Something on your mind?" Joel asks, his voice laced with concern. You close your eyes and sigh. You don't want to answer. You don't want to have to do this, but it's for the best.
This cannot be ignored anymore. You refuse to sit by and watch the man you love retreat further and further into himself, downing in a sea of sorrow. As long as you are here, you are a painful reminder. You had hoped your presence would have helped Joel to come to terms with what happened, reassuring him that it was beyond his control.
There was nothing anyone could have done. But for all your efforts, you can see now that your being here means Joel is stuck in limbo. He needs to find a way forward, to find something to keep fighting for, and you fear that can't happen unless you give him the space grieve and heal.
"Joel...," your voice wobbles as you struggle against the lump in your throat. "It's time. You need to let me go. You have to allow yourself to move on." Joel's soulful brown eyes meet yours, glistening with unshed tears and you feel your heart breaking for him. 'I... I can't," his voice almost sounds pleading, "I can't do this without you."
He desperately wants to hold you, to keep you in his arms forever. He's never loved any woman the way he loves you. Love isn't a strong enough word to describe the depth of his devotion and affection for you. You are (were) his life, his joy, the very beat of his heart, a missing piece of his soul.
He can't do this, not again. How can he even put one foot in front of the other if you are not in step with him? Without you he will remain hollow, aimless, just a simple lifeform existing from one day to the next. You take a shuddering breath, hoping your next words can convince him.
"Yes, you can, baby. You're the strongest person I know. I know it will be hard and I'm sorry... "I"m so sorry it has to be like this-," "Don't," Joel cut you off gently, shaking his head, "You have nothing to apologise for," "Neither do you," you reply, matter of factly. Joel looked straight ahead, his jaw ticking as he tries to tamp down the anger festering away inside of him.
The self loathing he deserves for failing another person he loves. "I should have been there to protect you." "Oh Joel," you sigh, sadly, "How many times do I have to say it? We cannot control everything around us. You need to accept that life has it's own plan and what will happen, will happen. It's. Not. Your. Fault." You enunciate the last sentence with conviction, tears threatening to chock you at the obvious ruination haunting Joel's visage.
Even from his side profile the pain is clearly evident. A moment of silence follows, after which, Joel turns to face you, eyes redened, tears now trailing the curve of his cheeks. "I love you so much," his pained words are barely above a whisper, as if his grief is physically crushing his windpipe. "And I love you. I always have," you reply softly as your own tears begin to fall.
You want nothing more than to comfort him, to take him in your arms and shield him from his suffering, to wipe his tears away and kiss his soft salt and pepper curls. But it's impossible and you feel so helpless, so useless.... and you hate that. How cruel its, to be so close and yet, so far away.
"And that's why...," you take a deep breath, your own sorrow weighing heavily on you with what you now have to do. "I have to go." Joel's eyes widen but before he can protest, you continue, "I'm sorry," the regret choking you is stifling, "I wanted to help you find a way through this, but I can see now that I'm doing more harm than good. You need to be able to mourn, Joel. And you need to accept the love and support of those around you. You still have family here and they want so desperately to help you, but you've pushed them away. I can't bare to see you wasting away like this."
Somewhere, deep down Joel knew that this time would come, he knew you couldn't stay here forever, but how the hell can he let you go? It would be like expecting him to live without breath in his lungs. "Please, y... you can't go..." Joel's voice wavered as he continued., "I... I can't lose you again, sweetheart." You try to reassure him with a gentle smile, "You'll never never truly lose me, darling."
A sad sigh escapes you, "But you will lose yourself if you continue down this path, and I won't let that happen. Ellie and Tommy are so worried about you. You need them, even if you don' realise it." "How am I supposed to live every day without you? I just...," Joel lets out a shaky breath, rubbing his hand over his face, "I Cant. I've lost too much. I can't do it again."
The defeat in Joel's voice, his eyes, his posture causes your gut to twist up. You want to stay, it's tearing you apart inside, feeling as though you're abandoning him in his hour of need. But staying would only make things worse in the long run. Sometimes you have to make difficult decisions for the greater good. It will be hard for him, but he still has so much to live for, so much love to give, even if he's blind to it right now.
"Joel," you began, voice gentle but firm, "You can. The Joel Miller I know can do anything he puts his mind too." A barely visible smile appears at one corner of Joel's mouth, but as soon as it appears, it's gone. "I want you to do something for me, darling," " anything!" Joel replies in earnest. If you could physically caress his cheek right now, you would. It feels so wrong to not be able to touch him. All you can do is shuffle closer and lean into his tired face.
"I want you to promise me that you'll keep going, that you'll allow yourself to feel everything you need to, and that you'll lean on your family. Promise me that you'll live the best life that you can for yourself, for them... and for me, please." Joel is lost for words. He's done a lot of bad things in his life, but he must have done something good at some point for the universe to bring you to him. He doesn't deserve the endless love and concern you continue to bestow upon him, even in death.
Your bright and hopeful eyes bring Joel a sense of clarity. This is the last thing he can do for you, the last thing you'll ever ask of him, and he will do it, for you. No matter how difficult it will be. He suddenly doesn't feel so lost and adrift anymore. You have given him a new purpose. He will honour your last request until his dying breath. After a few seconds of quiet contemplation, Joel whispers, "I promise."
You release a sigh of relief, a heavy weight lifted from your shoulders at Joel's reassurance. He'll be alright. "And I promise you, when the time comes, I'll come back for you. One day, we'll be together again. But I have to go now," you pause, trying to fight the tears that threaten to fall again, "I won't say goodbye, cause this isn't goodbye. It's see you later."
Joel swallows the sob trying to climb up his throat. His heart is screaming at him to beg you to stay, but he knows when your mind is made up, it's made up. And you've decided he needs this. As much as he can't fathom not seeing you again for god knows how long, he takes comfort in knowing this separation is temporary. He will hold you again, laugh with you again and spend eternity by your side.
"I love you," Joel sniffled, knowing this is it, woe burying itself deeper into his soul. "I love you too," you declare, devotedly. "see ya later?" The words leave Joel's lips as a hopeful question. "See ya later," you confirm lovingly, and with that you fade into the soft golden twilight.
6 Years Later...
Joel couldn't focus, his eyelids like lead and his body trembling. The voices around him seemed distant and muffled one second, then loud and sharp the next. Throbbing pain bloomed through his torso, exacerbated by each breath he took. "What do you mean there's nothing more you can do?" Was that Tommy? "You can't just give up on him!" Tommy shouted, his voice a mixture of anger and fear.
"I'm so sorry, but all we can do now is try to make him as comfortable as we can." Darkness encompassed Joel as the voices began to fade once more. When his eyes opened again, he's met with the grave faces of Ellie and Tommy. He tries to sit up but his limbs feel too heavy, even turning his head is a challenge, and the oppressive atmosphere shrouding the room tells Joel the situation is... bad.
"What-" "Shhh...," soothed Ellie with tears in her eyes. "You're in the hospital." Joel swallowed thickly, wincing as his body screamed in protest at the slightest movement. He slowly turned his head to see Tommy standing at the other side of his bed. His blotchy, tear streaked face caused Joel's stomach to twist up in knots. At that moment, it all came rushing back to him.
The ambush while on patrol with Tommy, the broken baseball bat protruding from him (again), Tommy heaving his battered body onto his own horse so he could keep him upright on the journey back. He's been in dire situations more times than he'd like to remember but this time it's... different, both Tommy and Ellie's sombre mien thickening the atmosphere as every second passes.
And that's when it dawned on Joel; This isn't just bad, this is something he won't come back from. "Tell me...," Joel mumbled, weakly. Tommy cleared his throat, trying to keep his voice even, "The uh... the doctor..," Tommy lowered his head, shaking it as if in disbelief. Normally, Joel would snap at Tommy to 'spit it out' whenever he fumbled his words, but not this time. Not when his baby brother is clearly struggling to keep it together.
Tommy sighed, lifting his gaze to meet Joel's. "The doctor said you have internal bleeding and uh... there's nothing more they can do." Nothing more they can do. The words echo loudly in Joel's ears. He's had many close calls over the years. He'd used up his nine lives a long time ago and now his number was up. Our luck had to run out sooner or later. Tess' last words return as a grim reminder of the fragility of life in this world.
A part of Joel always knew he'd meet his end sooner rather than later, but being faced with that reality now.... well, nothing could have ever truly prepared him for this moment, the finality of his tumultuous life. Joel remained still, staring up at the ceiling while it sank in, a barrage of emotions crashing over him, simultaneously; Fear of the unknown, worry for the family he'll leave behind, regret for so many past mistakes, but also... acceptance. After everything he feels unexpectedly ready.
He'd kept his promise to you everyday for the past six years. He'd rebuilt his fragile relationship with Ellie. It took many deep and uncomfortable conversations and he always gave her space when she needed it, but slowly the cracks disappeared and the two became closer than ever, he even became a doting grandpa to JJ and a devoted uncle to Dylan.
The past mistakes with Tommy could never truly be erased, but he and Tommy both came to realise that they couldn't and more importantly, didn't want to dwell on it anymore, even Maria had come to accept Joel and gave him a second chance to start over with no animosity between them. He'd done that for you, just as you'd asked of him. Everyday Joel had kept your memory alive as he'd lived the best life he could, and now he's reached the end.
"Joel...," Ellie's quivering voice broke through Joel's hazy mind. The woefulness behind her tears caused Joel's heart to clench. "Come here, kiddo," comforted Joel as he slowly lifted an arm to embrace his adopted daughter. Her warm tears fell onto his neck as he gently rubbed the back of her head. "It's...okay. It'll be okay," he gulped while trying to be strong for her. "How can it be okay? How will any of us be okay without you?" Ellie wept, voice shaking with each breath.
"You're strong and you h... have people who care about you. Don't make the sa... same mistake I did," Joel told her as he thought about how he spent so long pushing people away. "I love you," she breathed out quietly into his ear, and Joel closed his eyes, sighing in contentment. "I love you too, baby girl. You take good... care of JJ... you hear me?" "I will," Ellie promised. Joel then looked to Tommy, who's head hung low in shame and remorse. "This is my fault," his jaw clenched in anger, the same way Joel's always does, "I'm so fucking sorry. I should have been quicker, should have killed that bastard sooner!"
"Hey...," Joel gently interrupted, "It's not your... fault. We were outnumbered." Tommy shook his head, seemingly unable to accept his failure. "Tommy," Joel began, in a no nonsense tone, causing his brothers' eyes to meet his own, "You got us out... of there and got us home. That's what... matters! So don't you dare b... blame yourself for th... this.
Tommy was speechless for a moment. He grabbed Joel's hand and asksed, "Who's gonna keep my ass in check around here now?" "I'm s...sure Maria has that covered...," it was becoming more difficult for Joel to talk, "and if not this one will do the job," he quipped, pointing to Ellie with a small chuckle but he immediately winced as shooting pains radiated around his lower abdomen. "Easy...," Tommy rested a comforting hand on Joel's shoulder.
As the hours wore on, Joel became weaker, his breathing more laboured. Medication helped to ease the worst of the pain, even though, at first he refused it, insisting that it was pointless to waste it on him. It was only after Ellie had begged him to take it, that he finally relented. Maria and Dina came to say a teary farewell but left the children with a babysitter, as Joel didn't want their last memories of him to be a bruised and bloodied man on his deathbed.
Day bled into night. Ellie and Tommy kept vigil at Joel's bedside while he slipped in and out of consciousness. Joel became even more breathless, his golden hue became pale and clammy. It wouldn't be long now. A sombre silence filled the air, holding more weight than any words could. But even if Joel wanted to speak, he found he suddenly lacked the strength to even open his mouth. An exhaustion he'd never experienced before swept over him like a warm blanket, along with a bone deep, desperate need to sleep. Just for a bit. I'll sleep just for a bit.
"Joel?..." a warm hand on his cheek and a soft voice he'd know anywhere, resounded in his ears like a sweet melody. His eyes shot open and he gasped in shock as he took in the image of you standing beside him and... touching him! Maybe he's dreaming? "Hi, baby," you smiled down at him with tears in your eyes, stroking his patchy jaw, tenderly. "You're here," he sputtered in disbelief.
"I promise I'd come back for you," you replied soothingly. And that's when Joel knew without a doubt he's not dreaming. As if on instinct Joel reached for your hand, clasping it in his own, bringing it to his mouth and pressed his lips to your soft palm. "I missed you," he cried, unable to believe that the moment he's waited years for is finally upon him. How he missed your delicate touch.
He'd dreamed of your embrace every night for the past six years, and now at long last, it's real. Joel swung his legs over the side of the bed, pulling himself up, the absence of pain and the rejuvenation of his 'body', another confirmation of his new reality. Joel wastes no time pulling you into his broad chest and you wrap your arms around his waist, burying your face in the crook of his neck.
You breathe in his woodsy and coffee scent, while at the same time Joel's nose buries itself in your hair, slowly inhaling your scent, one hand splayed across your back and the other cupping the back of your head. Tears stream down both of your faces as years of longing and loneliness come to an end. Now only forever awaits. "I missed you too," you wept, "So much." "I did it, darling. I did it all for you, every day," Joel whispered into your ear. You pull back, enough to look into his eyes, eyes filled with relief and love.
Gently holding his cheek, you reply, "I know. And I'm so proud of you. Now you can rest, my love." As the tears begin to dry and emotions calm somewhat, Joel realises you two weren't the only one's crying. Turning around his heart sinks and chest tightens as he has to witness Tommy holding a sobbing Ellie, while his own tears silently fall. On the bed, Joel's body lies motionless, drained of colour but with a serene peace adorning his relaxed features.
He remains frozen to the spot, wide eyed until you slip your hand into his, giving him a supportive 'I'm here' squeeze. "They'll be okay." You smooth your other hand up and down his arm. "They have each other and their families. They'll take care of them. And when the time comes, we'll all be together again." Joel answers with a silent nod, squeezing your hand in return. You know Joel through and through, and you know that he's always taken it upon himself to care for and protect those he loves.
But now that responsibility is his his no more. It'll be hard for Joel to relinquish said responsibility, which has been the staple in his life, but he has faith in Tommy, knowing he'll look after Ellie. They're family, blood or not. He can rest in that knowledge. "Joel...," he brings his attention back to you, raising a quizzical eyebrow at the smile plastered across your face. "I brought someone with me. Someone who has been waiting a long time to see you again."
Realisation of whom you are referring to flashes across Joel's face, but before the name can pass his lips, he hears the sweetest, most perfect voice say the word he hasn't been called in over twenty years. "Dad...," With bated breath, Joel slowly turned around, his mind struggling to function properly. There she is! His baby girl, standing in front of him, just as beautiful as he'd remembered her.
"Sarah...," Joel whispered in awe, frozen to the spot where he stood. 'Hi, old man," she smiled as she closed the gap between them. Her close proximity snapped Joel out of his statue like stance, quickly pulling her into his arms and holding her tightly to his chest. "I missed you," she cried into his chest, while wrapping her arms around his waist. "I missed you too," Joel choked out, "It's okay baby girl, I'm here, I'm here," he comforted her as his own tears joined hers.
He tenderly drew her head back, cupping her face in his hands, his eyes absorbing every beautiful inch of her features; Her expressive eyes that has passed onto her, that killer smile he'd always thought of so fondly, the blush of pink that always tinted her cheeks. God how he'd missed her. "You're grey," Sarah teased through her tears, running her fingers through his soft curls.
Joel chuckled, his eyes crinkling at the corners with warmth and admiration. "Your beautiful." He pulls her in for another hug and turns his head to you. You are crying silent, happy tears for them both. Joel reaches out, silently beckoning you over. With his daughter under one arm and the woman he loves under the other, he now feels complete.
His post cordyceps life has led to this very moment, to be with the people he loves the most. Of course his heart aches at the thought of leaving Tommy and Ellie behind, but it won't be forever. You're right. It's his time to rest. Sarah takes his hand in hers, her thumb rubbing over the scars on his knuckles. "Let's go home," she said, softly, "We have much to talk about."
With one last glance over his shoulder and a nod of confirmation, Joel is ready. A bright mist hovers where a wall should be, a calm and quiet ambience emanating from within. Together, with linked hands the three of you slowly disappear as you walk through the veil into forever.
Summary: Joel is happier than he thought he ever could be again. But when he wakes up, he's lost something......
Warnings: Swearing, grief, death of a loved one, suicidal thoughts. Overall this is just a sad story.
Word Count: 3,161
The warm morning sunshine and dawn chorus spills in through the open bedroom window, the serene chirps, tweets and shrills heralding the start of a new day. Joel wakes to the secluded peace and comfort only Jackson can give in this broken and violent world. Your breath lightly fanning his face and your arm draped across his chest brings Joel a contentedness he never thought he would ever feel again. He silently watches you sleep, his eyes tracing the soft relaxed lines and contours of your face, your hair falling down one side of your jaw, onto your neck. He's never seen anyone so beautiful in his entire life. He could stay here with you forever, basking in you and everything about you. The gentle sigh and stroke of your hand on his chest makes his heart skip a beat. God, how he loves you. Suddenly he feels too far away from you and he can't stand it. He has to have you in his arms right now!
He snuggles up closer until his nose is touching yours. His plush lips ghost yours as he tucks your hair behind your ear with a feather light touch. You stir as he snakes an arm around your back, gently pulling you into his broad body. The soft kisses become pecks, over your lips, nose, eyelids, cheeks and neck. Waking up, you giggle and squirm at the tickly sensation of his scruff. Joel loves how ticklish you are and holds you still in his strong arms while he mercilessly attacks your nerve endings with his scratchy stubble, until you are laughing out loud. Your laugh is a soothing balm to his weary soul, a grounding force. He can never hear it enough. "Joel s... stop!" you squealed in glee. "It tickles!" "Mmm... you know I can't get enough of you darling," Joel laughs with you as he slides on top of you, elbows propping him up enough to not crush you, hands cupping both sides of your head and his legs between your spread thighs.
His kisses return to your neck, moving down to your breasts as your hands slide into his hair, twirling the wavy ends around your fingers. Your soft caresses and sultry moans sends his blood running south. He brings his face back up to yours, catching your lips once again, running his tongue along your bottom lip. You open your mouth, allowing his tongue to dance with yours as you both deepen the kiss. A kiss filled with love, longing and comfort. You gently push Joel up to look into his umber eyes with such love and adoration, he wonders what he did right to deserve you, to deserve this life. The warmth, love and happiness you fill him with everyday. "I love you so much, baby," you coo, eyes glistening with unshed tears. Joel smiles, staring deep into the pattern of your irises. He delicately cups your cheek, smoothing his thumb back and fourth. "I love you too, sweetheart. I always have," he reply's with devotion. He feels like his heart is going to burst. He can't even put into words the depth of his love for you. And he can feel and see the strength of that love returned to him from you. You both complete each other. Two sides of one heart beating strong. He's happy, so happy. This moment is perfect.
Joel wakes with a start. There's no sunshine, no dawn chorus, no sound of gentle breaths beside him. There's no sound at all except for the raindrops lashing the window panes, the room dimmed by the grey, dreary sky outside. "Baby?" Joel groans in his groggy, sleep addled confusion. He rolls over to look at your sleeping form, only you're not there. Your side of the bed is empty, cold, barren. His eyes shoot open and his heart feels like it has stopped as he's hit again with the realisation; You're not there. You'll never be there again. He'll never hear you laugh, never feel the warmth of your skin, never hear the words you reserved only for him. You're gone and it's all his fault, because he failed to protect you. Failed the greatest promise he ever made to you. The grief engulfs him, an unrelenting torrent of sorrow emanating from deep within his heart, his mind, his whole body. It physically weighs heavily on his chest as he lets out a bone rattling sob. The kind of wail that forces every last bit of oxygen from your lungs, leaving one a gasping mess.
He grabs your pillow that still has your scent all over it, burying his face into it and breathing you in as despair consumes every part of him, pulling him deeper into the void of desolation. He's lost you! You, the best part of him. You, who accepted and loved him just for being himself. You, who he swore to always protect. The haunting images invade his consciousness yet again, like Cordyceps burrowing into the dark recesses of his mind. The patrol, the raiders, the knife...
Two days ago
"I really don't want you coming along today. It's too dangerous," Joel worried as you both made your way to the gates of Jackson. A previous patrol had warned of signs of raiders close by so a large group had been assigned to investigate. "I promised Anne I'd fill in for her for the next few days. She's still not well," you shrugged with a sympathetic smile. You know Joel is a worrier and you hated to be the cause of said worry. But you were needed and didn't want to say no. "Besides..." you try to ease the tension, "It's not like we haven't dealt with raiders in the past." "I know," Joel grumbled, while rubbing the back of his neck. "I just.... I don't want you out there. I want you here where it's safe." "I worry when you go out there too, Joel," you replied in a soft tone while linking your arm with his, hoping the contact will help to ease the tension from Joel's taut frame. "But it's just something we all have to do." Joel knew you were right. Everyone has to pitch in to contribute if Jackson is to prosper. But it doesn't make it any easier for him and he hates it when you have to go out there.
"I still don't like it," he protested. "I can tell them you're not feeling well. There's still a large group of us. We can handle it." You gently squeeze Joel's arm. "Come on, we'll be fine," you coax while walking ahead of him to the group waiting for you both at the gates, and you can't help the quiet chuckle that escapes your lips at hearing Joel's signature "sigh" behind you. There are eight of you altogether as you and Joel join the group; Four other men and two women. You all head east out of Jackson on foot into the nearby forrest where the telltale signs of wandering people were discovered. After almost an hour of searching your group comes across an abandoned campfire that evidently hadn't long been extinguished, along with footprints and broken branches. It's clear that someone is in the area. Joel raised his hand, signalling to everyone to stop and gather around. The plan was to split into two groups of four, one check a square mile to the east and the other to the west and meet back in this spot ASAP. You and Joel took the west route along with two other men, all working together in silent cooperation.
About twenty minutes into the search your group came across an abandoned cabin, or so it seemed. A shot rang out into the treeline where you were all lingering, narrowly missing the head of one of your patrol partners. "Get down!" Joel yelled while quickly grabbing you and pulling you into his arms, burying your head into his chest in a desperate attempt to shield you. Distant panicked voices came from the cabin before the door flies open and a group of around ten men rush out, still firing in your direction. They scramble for cover, some behind a large timber pile, some behind a rotting truck and some in the trees. You all return fire, instantly killing two men as they leaned out and exposed their positions. As your group carefully crept through the trees it became more difficult to keep visuals on the raiders. "Stay close!" Joel shouted in a panicked voice, while gripping your wrist tight. He stops, abruptly pushing you behind him as he shoots a man hiding behind a tree. Another shot, this time from one one of your men drops another raider.
"We need to get out of here. There's too many of them!" you panted as your leg muscles burn from crouching. "You're right. We'll stand a better chance if we regroup with the others," Joel affirmed quickly. "Fall back to the meeting point," he bellowed to the other two men. The four of you rush back the way you came, desperately trying to put some distance between you and your attackers. More shots echo through the woods, while your group fires back as you all run. Your gun clicks, signifying that you're out of ammo. You store your gun in the waistband of your trousers and grab your knife from it's sheath. You realise that in the commotion you and Joel got separated from the others. You both hid behind a large boulder as voices and footsteps grow louder. Joel's heart is in his throat, his stomach churning and a cold sweat coats his brow. This is why he didn't want you to come. He has to get you out of here, now! Checking his ammo reveals he has only one bullet left. "Fuck, shit!" he mutters under his breath. Three raiders break through the trees about thirty feet in front of the boulder. Joel peeks out from behind the boulder to shoot but he misses. He darts back before he gives his position away. He drops his rifle, unsheathes his knife and gives you that "You Ready?" look. You nod, nervously, while clutching your knife in a white knuckled grip. Gunshots sound in the distance and you hope your friends are okay. "Fuck, out of ammo," you hear one guy yell. "Knives out boys. Flush 'em out," another shouts.
It all happened so fast! As two men rounded each side of the boulder, you and Joel used the element of surprise, crashing into one each and shoving them to the ground. Joel's victim frantically fought, pushing Joel's arms up as he tried to sink his knife into the mans throat. At the same time Joel heard a man scream in agony while you gasped and grunted. The screaming stopped, replaced with a gurgling sound. Without looking Joel knew you'd killed him, which meant you were safe, at least for a few moments. Suddenly two strong arms wrapped tightly around Joel's neck, yanking him off the man he was fighting. His captor held him in a vice like grip, forcing him to his knees. The man he was so close to ending only moments ago sprang up, face reddened, sweaty and filled with rage. He clasped his knife, turning the tip of the blade towards Joel. Panic seized Joel's body as he realised he's about to die. He can't die here. He can't leave you to the despicable treatment he knows they will bestow upon you. He has to live, to get you out of here. As he furiously struggles, the grip around his neck becomes tighter, slowly cutting off his air supply. Sparkly dots burst in his vision like fireworks as his head becomes hazy and light.
But before the assailant can strike the fatal blow, Joel hears you scream his name in terror and desperation. The man in front of him disappears as you launch yourself into him, tackling him to the ground. The man behind Joel absentmindedly eases his grip on Joel's neck in surprise at what just happened. Joel wastes no time in flipping the bastard over his shoulder and onto his back. Joel straddles him and rains down blow after bone crunching blow, until his face is nothing more than pulp. Once it becomes obvious the raider won't be getting back up, Joel shakily rises to his feet. He turns to where you tackled the other raider, who's now laying open eyed with a knife in his throat and you standing over him. "Baby?" Joel exhales, gasping to catch his breath. "You okay?" Your silence and hunched posture causes Joel to knit his eyebrows together in confusion. He call your name, walking faster towards you. You slowly and awkwardly turn to face him, chest heaving and dreary eyed. Joel freezes on the spot as if his feet had sprouted roots, as his gaze drops to your torso. Wedged between your ribs is a knife, a blanket of crimson running down your stomach and legs and pooling onto the ground.
In that one moment, everything had just became a surreal blur. The world stopped turning, reality distorted. Joel can't accept what he's seeing is real. His breath leaves his chest as if an invisible force had punched him in the stomach. Nausea roils through him. "J...Joel..." you mumble as you stumble forward, hand pressed on your ribs beneath the knife. The sight of you falling snaps Joel out of his haze. He sprints over to you, catching you before you hit the ground and push the knife in further. He drops to his knees while holding you, turning you over to face him. "Baby, you're gonna be okay," Joel cries in despair as he looks into your frightened eyes. "You're gonna be fine. I'm gonna get you out of here, okay!" The expression he sees on your face now is the same expression he saw on Sarah's face; Fear, confusion, a silent beg to make it stop. But Joel can't make it stop. He can't even think straight right now. "Baby... please..." he begs through a cracking voice. "I.... I'm so sorry.... Joel," you rasp, as every word becomes painful and difficult to expel. "I'm... sorry!" you repeat through your panicked tears. "Shhh... you have nothing to be sorry for," Joel assures you sorrowfully. "I should h...have...been more c...careful."
Joel sobbed as he pulled you closer. "Im... sorry for bre... breaking my pro... promise... to never leave you," you breathed out with great difficulty, tears streaming down your cheeks. "Listen to me," Joel said firmly but lovingly, "You're not going anywhere. You're gonna be okay. I'm gonna get you back to Jackson and they'll fix you up. Your gonna make it!" The determination in his voice, the insistence that you'll be okay dies on his tongue as the colour in your face drains before him. "I love...you," Joel hears you wheeze to him, then your eyes close and your chest stills. Joel's chest feels like it's imploding, a cold wave courses through his veins numbing his whole being. This isn't happening! This isn't real! "No, no, no, no, no," is all that leaves Joel's shocked lips as he holds your still body tightly against his chest, tears cascading down his cheeks and falling onto your head. He sits rocking you back and fourth for god knows how long, completely lost in the numbness and fog surrounding him, penetrating him, breaking him down. He can't look at your face. He's terrified of what he'll see if he does. He wants to remember your face as it should be; with sparkling eyes and a smile that can lighten any room. The way your eyes would crinkle and your nose would scrunch when you laughed uncontrollably. The light dusting of freckles across your nose he would count while you slept. He can't look now. Seeing your face now would finish him.
The return to Jackson is a blur to Joel. His partners found him cradling your body, staring into.... nothing. They offered to carry you but he wouldn't let anyone near. He carried you all the way back to Jackson, his brain not even registering the protest his muscles gave. Nothing was real to him anymore. It's as though when you left, you took Joel with you. His body was breathing, heart pumping, blood flowing.... but he's not there. He's nothing more than a hollow machine, putting one foot in front of the other. It's only when Joel got back to Jackson and Tommy offered to carry you to the infirmary, that he finally let you go. As soon as he did the strength in his arms and legs wavered and he almost collapsed to his knees. Ellie took Joel home, silent tears falling from her as she supported his weight.
Today
Joel is pulled from his broken hearted dwelling by a light rap on the bedroom door. "Joel?" Ellie calls cautiously, "I've left some food by your door. You have to eat something." A few seconds of silence passes and she speaks again. "Joel, you haven't left your room in two days. Please talk to me. Let me help you." "Go Away," Joel sniffled, his voice strained and exhausted. Ellie sighed. "I'll be downstairs if you need me." Joel can hear the muffled voices of Ellie and Tommy downstairs but he doesn't care. Nothing matters anymore. He lost his baby girl and now he's lost you. So what's the point anymore? His relationship with Ellie has been almost non existent since he told her the truth about that day at St. Mary's hospital and the distance between him and Tommy, created from years of atrocities is irreparable. You were the only one who accepted every part of him without judgement, and now you're gone. As Joel looks at your bedside cabinet he sees your hairbrush, filled with wayward strands, your strands. He picks it up, brushing his fingertips over the tangled strands.
This is all he has left of you.The only way he can touch you again. The undeniable clarity hits him like punch to his gut. He cups the brush to his cheek, strands tickling his face as more sobs wrack his body. He's not sure that he can do this again, not sure he can survive the loss. Maybe if he just gave up, if he "left", maybe he could find his girls again. Maybe you and Sarah would be waiting for him and you can all exist together, forever, as it should be. Maybe he'll go through with it, maybe he won't, but it's the only thing that makes sense in this fucked up world. He'll take one day at a time. If it all becomes too much, he knows the option is there. But for now he'll breath, he'll feel and he'll grieve. That's all he can do at this time. There's nothing else.
Summary: Youâve been divorced from Joel for a little while, now. But when your sink breaks and threatens to flood your house right before a date, you have no one else to call but him. Why does he come? You donât know. Why does he look so fucking good? You donât know, either.
W.C: ~6.2k
TL;DR: Rule number one of getting divorced: donât fuck your ex-husband. (Optional).
Warnings: ex-husband!joel x ex-wife!reader, sappy love confessions, improper use of a sink, praise, oral f!receiving, mirror sex, unprotected p-in-v sex, (no outbreak!)
Note: as a child of divorce, i am allowed to touch upon this matter. anyway, happy fucking i mean reading
Part One | Part Two
One-third. A married coupleâs least favourite fraction.Â
It was (and is) a well-known fact that one in three marriages ends in separation. And of course, youâbeing the lucky duck you wereâfound yours rapidly accelerating toward that destination.
You and Joel had agreed that youâd be better off apart. Joel got his own place while you kept the house. And Sarah lived with you every other week.
All you needed to do was send your attorney the signed divorce papers.
Outside of the sympathetic comments you received from acquaintances and relatives almost daily, you were doing just fine.
In fact, tonight you had a date.
A date. The kind that made you choose a tight-fitting dress that hugged your curves just right. The kind that inspired you to wear your hair in something other than a claw clip. The kind that provoked you to shave places you havenât shaved in a long time.
The lucky bachelor was a fellow divorcee named Mark, whom you had met on a single-parent dating app. He had a full head of hair, a decent sense of humour, and two rescued Labradors. He offered to bring you to his favourite Italian restaurant, bringing up the fact that heâd pick up the bill no matter what, much to your protests. Needless to say, you had a good feeling about him.
After one last check in the mirror, you grabbed your coat and slung your purse over your shoulder, ready to head out the door.
Then, you heard it.
A faint gurgling.Â
You blinked twice, trying to zero in on the sound. Proceeding a few moments of intense concentration, you followed the sound into the ensuite bathroom.
The faucet was running. Had you forgotten to turn it off?
You reached for the handle. Twisted it. It spun freely, and nothing happened.Â
You tried and tried again, but all your efforts were in vain. You could only watch the tap stubbornly defy you as the handle jutted uselessly, loose in its socket.
âShit.â You breathed.
The faucet sputtered out a particularly heavy spurt of water as if to say: shit, indeed.
You sighed, staring helplessly at the sink as it stared contumaciously back, water that couldnât be swallowed by the drain toppling over the edge of the sink.
A quick Google search informed you that you needed to turn off the principal water pipeâthe mains. Which you didnât know how to do.Â
So, you resolved to delegate the problem to more capable hands. Like, a twenty-four-hour plumbing service. No, they could easily overcharge you. You could call your dad? No, he was too far.
OrâŚ
Sighing, you dug out your phone from your purse and called your only remaining option. Someone who was a seasoned contractor, someone who dealt with this sink before, and someone who you just so happened to be divorcing.Â
He answered on the third ring.
âHeyâeverything okay?â Joelâs concerned voice filtered through your phone.
âNo.â You inhaled.Â
âNo?â Joel echoed hesitantly, then waited for elaboration.
When nothing came, he cleared his throat.
Slightly confused, slightly wry, he continued, âThis is the part where you tell me whatâs wrong.âÂ
âUm, my sinkâs busted.â
âYour sink⌠is busted?â
âYeah. Faucet wonât turn off. It-Itâs a lot of water.â You bit the inside of your cheek, leaning on the wall. âI didnât know who else to call.â
A moment of silence, then:
âYou need me to fix it?âÂ
Was that annoyance? Exhaustion? It definitely wasnât exhilaration at the prospect of doing manual labour at eight oâclock on a Friday evening.
âYou know what? Forget I called. This was stupid. Sorry to bother youââ
âIâm on my way.â
Despite the gravity of the situation, after he hung up, the smallest of smiles began forming on your face.Â
Fifteen minutes later, a knock came from your front door.
You swung the door open, and there he stood. Tool bag in hand, flannel shirt stretching tightly over his broad shoulders, salt-and-pepper hair just a little bit unkempt.
It had been a good few months since the two of you went your separate ways, but there he wasâstill at your beck and call. What that meant, exactly, remained to be seen.Â
But you were glad to see him, nonetheless.
âHi,â You said breathlessly.
Upon seeing you, Joelâs brows shot up, and he blinked a few times.
âHi.â He said back slowly, then cleared his throat. âAm I⌠interruptinâ something?â
You glanced down. Right. Tight dress and makeup.
âI have a date inâŚâ You raised your left wrist and winced as you looked down at your watch. âFive minutes ago.â
âA date.â He clicked his tongue, nodding to himself. âWell, Iâll try to make this quick, then.â
You hummed a noise of agreement, pivoted, and, with a wave of your hand, invited Joel inside.
He stepped through the doorway with a quiet grunt. And, as he bent down to undo his boots, his coffee-brown gaze landed on a pile of unopened mail by the entryway table. A few envelopes had slipped to the floor, and he crouched to gather them without thinking.Â
But, as he straightened up to his full height, his eyes lingered on the recipient line.
âMrs Miller?â Joel read aloud.
âWhat?â Your breath caught in your throat, and you spun around to meet his stare.
Joel wordlessly held the envelope up with two fingers, the corners of his lips slightly upturned.
âOh.â You cringed inwardly. âYeah.â
âDidnât, uh, realise that you were keepinâ the name.â He shrugged offhandedly, tossing the stack of mail onto the entryway table.
âIâm not. I justâŚâ You ran a hand through your hair. âPaperwork isnât final.â
For the divorce.
Joelâs eyebrows pinched together. âI sent you my signed copies, ifââÂ
âI know you did. I just havenât sent the papers to my lawyer yet.â You pressed your lips into a thin line and avoided his gaze. âJust got a lot on my plate, recently.â
That was very unconvincing.
Joel hummed a noncommittal noise.
âWellâŚâ He huffed sheepishly. âYou know I always liked my name on you.â
You swallowed, feeling your stomach do a funny flip and your ears burn up. Why were your ears burning up?
âCâmon. The problem is upstairs.â
The faucet, to your dismay, hadnât stopped. It was worse now, if that was even possible, spitting little rogue sprays of water alongside the main stream. Great.
You checked your watch again. Fifteen minutes late. You would no doubt have a few missed calls from your poor suitor if you had the guts to check your phone.
Joel sank to one knee as he inspected the sink, squinting at the appliance and shaking his head. Miraculously, he reached in and, a few rusty squeaks later, the water stopped.
âYou fixed it.â You blinked.
âFar from it,â He muttered, frowning. âThe cartridgeâs shot. And the valve stemâs stripped. Who installed this?â
Without missing a beat, âYou did.â
ââŚRight.â
You leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed over your chest. âSo?â
âSo, this isnât a quick fix. I need to pull out the whole assembly. Maybe replace the handle, too. And judging by the corrosion around this nutââ He held up a discoloured metal hexagon like it had personally offended him. âYouâve probably had a leak back here for a while.â
You blinked. âAnd you didnât notice that when you lived here?â
Joel turned to shoot you a look. âI was your husband, not your handyman.â
âReally? I couldâve sworn I married you for that toolbox of yours.â
âAnd here I thought it was âcause of my radiant personality.â
âDefinitely not that.â You huffed out a laugh.
Despite his back being turned to you, you could just about make out a reluctant smile forming through his slightly greying stubble.
You watched as he rolled up his plaid sleeves, exposing tanned forearms that were entirely too bulky for someone in his mid-forties. He then dug into his bag, fishing out an Allen Wrench.
âYou can go on your date,â Joel added, not looking at you. âIâll be out of here in an hour. Two, tops. But⌠if you feel like gettinâ frisky, maybe do it at his place. Just in case.â
Right, your date.
Biting the inside of your cheek, you took out your phone. Six missed calls and a flurry of concerned texts.
Decidedly, you typed out an apologetic message mentioning a water-related emergency and stuffed your phone back in your purse.
âIâm staying with you.â
Joel froze and turned to look at you from over his shoulder. âNo, you ainât. Iâll take too long.â
âWell, I canât leave you to fix my problems while Iâm out eating overpriced ravioli.â You shrugged and, with a soft grunt, took a seat against the wall near him. âYouâre not a plumber, youâre a⌠youâre myâŚâ
Ex-husband.
You cleared your throat, then emphasised, âYouâre not a plumber.â
Joel let out a slow exhale. âDo whatever you want, but I doubt watching me fix your sink is gonâ be as fun as your date.â
âIâve got a full bottle of Pinot Noir in the fridge.â You tilted your head. âWe can make it fun.â
Joelâs eyebrows shot up.
âNotânot in that way.â You rubbed a clammy hand down your face.
To your surprise, that earned you a small, gruff laugh from Joel, his eyes crinkling momentarily the way they only did when he was truly amused.
His voice was soft when he responded.Â
âGo on and get the wine, then, sweetheart.â
Two crystal glasses and a little while later, Joel had put down his wrench and opted instead to sit beside you on your tiled bathroom floor, his shoulders brushing up against yours in the cramped space.
Efforts to tame the defiant sink had long since been forgotten. He did the best he could, but retired upon discovering that you had no spare sink handle lying aroundâhow very unprepared of you.
The bad news was that you werenât going to be able to wash your hands in the master bedroom ensuite tonight. The good news was that you were having a surprisingly good time with Joel. The conversation evolved from discussing your stood-up date (you showed Markâs profile, Joel was convinced he was lying about his dogs being rescues), then to how his company was going, and then, reminiscing about the good olâ days.
âAll Iâm sayinâ,â Joel continued through a laugh. âIs that she did it on purpose.â
âMy mom has always been bad with names!â
âBad enough to still call me âGeorgeâ after a year of us datinâ?â He scoffed.
You stifled a giggle. âIn her defence, itâs a very similarââ
âLike hell it is. And your dad? He was worse.â Joel chuckled, finishing the last of his wine. âHow is he?â
âFine. Just called him yesterday, actually.â
âHe still callinâ meâ?â
âHe still calls you âporn stacheâ, yes.â
Joel snorted into his hand, his shoulders bobbing up and down with laughter. Real, genuine laughter.
You smiled and turned to steal a glance at his profile.
His eyes crinkled at the corners, his hooked nose scrunched mid-chuckle, and his laugh was exactly as it was beforeâlow and rough, but somehow boyish and unguarded.
You had almost forgotten how his whole face lit up when he laughed.
And, you didnât mean to stare. But you did.Â
God, you missed this.
âI think I prefer George.â Joel ran a hand down his face, still smiling.
You cleared your throat and leaned over to retrieve the almost-empty wine bottle, refilling your glasses.
âSarah told me to say hi to you, if I got the chance, by the way.â You said, pouring the Pinot Noir into his glass. âSheâs with my parents at the lake house.â
âThe lake house?â Joel hummed, taking another sip of his drink. âStill disappointed I didnât get that in the settlement.â
You snorted, amused. âYou donât even like lakes.â
âNo, I donât like the mosquitoes that come with the lakes.â Joel corrected you, pointedly. âBut, I donât know, I guess I just miss it. A lot of good memories there.â
You felt yourself smile. âYeah. Yeah, there were.â
A beat.
âHey, at least you kept the cars. And the boat. And the frequent flier miles. And, well, you see Sarah every other week.â You turned to look at Joel, but he was already looking at you.
A certain vulnerability swam in the brown of his eyes. Something you hadnât seen in a very long time.
âYeah, well⌠there were more important things I couldnât keep.â
The air thinned. The wine, the laughter, the conversationâeverything dissolved in the quiet admission, hanging thickly in the space between you.
And suddenly, there was only you and Joel and the mistakes that had wedged you apart yet somehow brought you back together again; on a random Friday evening on the floor of a bathroom you used to share.
âJoelâŚâ You swallowed, your hand falling from your lap onto the tiles.
But you couldnât form any semblance of a sentence. How could you?Â
There was nothing to say. Yes, you missed him. âMissedâ was an understatement.Â
Sometimes youâd roll over in the night, wishing to feel the weight of his arm resting on your waist, reassuring you that these past few months had only been a bad dream. Sometimes you came to pick Sarah up early, just to get a few more minutes with him. Sometimesâno, a lot of the time, memories of him came rushing back, cleaving your heart into two, further and further each time.
No matter how hard you tried, you just couldnât let go of the man you spent so many years loving.Â
Joelâs eyes still bore into yours. And nothing in the world could have torn you away.
He exhaled slowly, then set down his glass with care. His hand barely brushed yours, but it was enough to make your breath hitch.
âI think about it,â He said softly. âMore than I should.â
âThink about what?â
A quiet, almost sad laugh escaped from his throat. He leaned back against the wall, staring up at the ceiling.
âHow things used to be.â
âOh,â
A moment passed, marked only by the metre of your incessant heartbeat pounding in your ears.
And then, âDo you ever miss us?â Joel asked.
You faced him once more. The answer was on the tip of your tongue, but you couldnât bring yourself to say it. Because that was too complicated. Because that would break you.
Joel didnât need you to say it. He found the answer in your eyes.
All the time.
Instead, you asked, âDo you? Miss us, that is.â
âOf course, I do.â He said softly. âMore than you can imagine.â
You held your breath.
Joel heaved a sigh.
âI think about calling,â He added, voice low. âJust to hear your voice.â
âIâd answer,â You said, barely above a whisper.
He smiled in a bittersweet, melancholic sort of way and leaned in just slightly. Unconsciously, you mirrored him.
And then his eyes flickered down to your lips. It was only for a second, but it was enough to make your stomach flutter.
This was dangerous. You shouldâve told him to leave ages ago. Or, maybe you shouldâve left yourself and gone on your date.
But you couldnât bring yourself to pull away.
âCan I ask you something stupid?â You whispered.
Joel whispered back, âAlways.â
âDo youâŚâ You trailed off, biting your lip.
âDo I what?â
âDo youâdoes even a part of you⌠want what we had back?âÂ
You knew what he was going to say. You just wanted to hear it for yourself.
And you did.
âYes,â He admitted earnestly.
You searched his face for any sign of deception, but found none. The only thing in his coffee-brown eyes was regret. And, maybe, something else, too. Something softer.
Your eyes widened. âWe fought a lot.â
âWe did.â
âAnd we probably said some shit.â You sighed, looking up at the ceiling, as if all the answers were written there. Joel did, too.
His voice came softly, sadly, âWe did.â
Silence again. Thick and fragile and charged with so many unspoken words.
Joelâs knee brushed yours, neither of you pulling away. It was nice to have him close, to feel his familiar warmth, to see himâreally see him. Bare and raw and vulnerable. No facades of indifference. No hiding behind closed car doors. Just Joel, your Joel, there beside you; soft-eyed and quiet, like maybe he was seeing you, too.
Your fingers twitched on the floor beside his. You wanted to reach for him, but you wanted him to reach first. Absently, you fiddled with your left ring finger, suddenly aware of its bareness.
He looked at you then. Not a glance, but a full turn, slow and deliberate. His dark eyes searched your face, pausing on your mouth, your cheek, your lashes, then settled on your eyes again. He looked at you like you were something heâd spent months trying to forget, and only just now remembered why he couldnât.
You held your breath.
Joelâs voice, when it finally came, was low, cracked around the edges.
âI know it was bad in the end, but I meant what I said.â He breathed. âI miss us. I miss you.â
Your heart twisted. And there went that cleaver again, slicing further.
âI miss seeing your keys on the kitchen counter and knowing you were home. I miss kissing you before work and smudginâ your lipstick. I miss watching stupid movies with you that weâd fall asleep to halfway.â
His throat bobbed. He leaned back against the wall, like it hurt to say it out loud.
âYeah, we fought and said some real mean shit. But God help me, Iâd give anything to go back in time and fight for you like I should have. Because you were it for me. You were everything. Still are.â
His eyes glistened as he held your gaze, fierce and unflinching.
âBecause, no matter how hard I try to ignore it,â He smiled to himself, shaking his head like it was the most obvious thing in the world. âI love you.â
He loves you.
Those three simple words rang in an echo in your mind. He loves you, he loves you, Joel loves you.
âYou love me?â You could barely hear your voice above the deafening thrum of your pulse.
Your faces were barely an inch apart, now. You could smell the familiar scent of his laundry detergent, and traces of his cologne, and wood, and tobacco, and something that was so uniquely him.
Joel nodded.
âI never stopped.â He whispered.
Without thinking, you closed the remaining distance, smashing your lips against his. Joel grunted in surprise, but quickly gave in, exhaling through his nose like heâd been holding a breath in for years.Â
He returned the kiss with equal fervour, reaching out to cup your face and pouring all his pent-up emotions against the haven of your lipsâlonging, relief, desire.
You pushed yourself closer against him. Closer, impossibly closer, until you were straddling his lap, moving against the tent in his jeans, feeling his big hands instinctively settle on your hips, and tasting the Pinot Noir on his lips.
Shit. Was this even a good idea?
You pulled away suddenly. A tiny whine came from Joel, who tried to chase your mouth, but you were insistent.
âWait,â You panted.
His eyes opened fully. His brows were knitted, his lips were kiss-swollen, and his chest was heaving slowly.
âWhat?â Joel asked quietly, his thumbs idly tracing circles on either side of your hips.
âThisâŚâ You breathed. âI donât want this to be a one-time thing. I donât want it to mean nothing.â
Joel smiled softly at your words.
âMeans a whole lot to me, sweetheart.â His hand went to gently tuck a stray strand of your hair behind your ear, caressing your cheek in his wake. âWe can talk about what this means, if you wââ
âOkay, good. Means a lot. Talk after.â
âAfter?â His eyebrows rose.
âAfter you fuck me.â
A breathy âJesus Christâ slipped from his throat, but Joel didnât spend a second refusing your bold assumption.
With a hand on your nape, he leaned forward to capture your lips in another searing kiss, which you happily accepted, sighing against him.
His big hands then travelled to the back of your thighs, and the next thing you knew, he carelessly swept away whatever was decorating the base of your faucet, and carried you with ease to perch you atop the sink.
âJoel.â You mumbled urgently into his lips.
âMmm?â He hummed back, not wanting to break your mouths apart for even a second.Â
âMight break the sink again.â
âDonât care. Iâll fuckinâ fix it again, then. Just⌠need you,â Joel groaned. âLook too fuckinâ good,â
And he pulled away. His half-lidded, cloudy gaze drank you in, sweeping down the snugness of your dress, and lingering on the generous amount of cleavage it revealed. His hands drifted higher and higher up your thighs, until they reached the hemlineâdipping under just slightly.
âToo fuckinâ good,â He snarled.
You smirked. Knowing him, he was definitely going to ask ifâ
âHow much was this dress?â
Sighing amusedly, âIt wasnât cheap.â
âHow attached are you to it?â He mumbled, a hand reverently skirting up to your hip.
âA moderate amouââ
âCan I rip it off you?â
There it was.
In the many years you were married, Joel shredded more than enough articles of your precious wardrobe in similar heated moments. If you were to count the offences, youâd likely run out of fingers. Your wedding dress had been among the few survivors of his destructive tendencies, though not for lack of trying on his part.
You stifled a snort and shook your head, reaching up to caress his face.Â
âNo.â You smiled. âBecause Iâd like to wear it again.â
Joel held your hand against his face and huffed out an exaggerated sigh. âNext time.â
And then his hands found the zipper on your side, pulled it sharply down, and tugged the dress off you.
His eyes darkened.
You had chosen to don an intricate, black, lacey number underneath your dress that teased just enough and only hid the bare minimum. Of course, you had. You hadnât had an opportunity to wear anything vaguely provocative in ages and were expecting some luck after your date.
You certainly didnât expect that your ex-husband would be the one seeing it.
âThis for him?â Joelâs lip twitched.
Heat rose in your cheeks. âWell, Iââ
âYeah, these donât get a pass.â
With a sharp tearing noise slicing through the air, Joel ripped the flimsy lacey bra clean in half, watching intently, hungrily, as your tits spilled out.
âJoel!â
âI know, I know,â Joel grunted. âIâll buy you a new set⌠buy you all the fuckinâ sets.â
You were about to object, intent on citing the price attached to that particular pair, but Joel had sunk back on his knees and spread your legs apart.
He pressed his lips on your inner thigh, scruff tickling your skin as he slowly, softly trailed his mouth upward, leaving goosebumps in his wake.
His face came to a stop in front of your core, noticing how heavily you were breathing, and his eyes flicked up to yours, smirking. Smug fucking bastard.
âJoel.â You gritted your teeth.
âYeah, baby?â
âDonât fucking tease me.âÂ
And he leaned his forehead against the lower part of your navel, taking a second to breathe in the unmistakable scent of your arousal seeping through your lingerie.Â
He was practically salivating, now.Â
âIâll try not to, maâam.âÂ
Without another word, he took the lace into his teeth, yanked his head sharply, and tore your panties open.
Confirming his suspicions, you were absolutely soaked. Slick drooled freely out of your puffy folds, taunting him and draining every ounce of self-restraint he had.Â
Fuck, you were gorgeous.
âTell me,â Joel said lowly, meeting your gaze once more as a thick finger swiped lightly through your lips, collecting your arousal. âThis for him or me?â
âYou.â You breathed without a second thought.
âLouder, sweetheart. My ears ainât what they used to be.â
âYou.â
Smirking wider, âDamn fucking right.â
Then, he happily hitched your legs over his shoulders, leaned forward, and dove in.
His tongue prodded into your heat, dragging down your walls and sending jolts of electricity down your spine. He worked fast and sloppily, sliding through your folds and flicking into your walls, urgently tasting you like he wouldnât get another chance.Â
Your arousal coated the lower half of his face, his eyes were almost black with desire, obscenely wet noises echoed in the silence of the tiled room as his tongue eagerly devoured you wholeâ
âFuck, almost forgot how good you taste. So fuckinâ sweet.â Joel mumbled against your sex, entirely, wholly bewitched. âShe missed me, too, huh? Just drippinâ for meâŚâ
He continued to furiously lap at your entrance, scruff rubbing against your inner thighs. And then he moved up, planting messy kisses higher and higher until he reached your swollen clit.
You gasped brokenly, flinging a hand to grasp his curls as his lips alternated from pressing messy kisses along your seam to greedily sucking at your bundle of nerves, latching onto it almost desperately.
After a particularly delicious drag down the roof of your core, you rolled your hips up into his mouth and brought him closer to you with your grip in his hair.
âShitâsorry.â You panted, breathing heavily.
He barely pulled away to look at you.
âDonât fuckinâ be. I can handle it, you know I can.â Joel all but growled, before returning to attend to your needy fucking pussy.
He was like a man possessed; lapping frenziedly, groaning lowly into your sensitive skin, curved nose swiping through your folds as he worked.
Very soon, a familiar tingle in your lower stomach introduced itself.
âJoel,â You called urgently, attempting to warn him.
He knew you were close. Oh, he knew. So, he went faster and harder, pressing himself further against you, suffocation be fucking damned.
His low, wrecked voice came slurred and slightly muffled by your sex, âYâgonna come? Go on, baby, all over my faceâthaaatâs it.â
A shattered moan escaped from your throat, and you felt your release take over your body almost violently. You couldnât help the way your legs clamped down around his head, but Joel loved it, letting you smother him and humming happily into your heat as he worked you through your climax, swallowing your release and eating like a man starved.
Finally, he pulled away with a wet squelch, softly pressed a kiss to your inner thigh, and gently let your legs down.
And you were immediately greeted with the sight of his lower face shining with your slick.
A good look on him, if youâd say so yourself.
He smiled lazily, eyes blown-out and absolutely fucking pussydrunk.Â
âThat good for you, sweetheart?â He mused.
âYou, Joel Miller, are what we call a munch.â You smiled back.
Pride bloomed across his face. âGladly, sweets.âÂ
And you pulled him up by the collar of his flannel shirt into a filthy kiss, tasting your arousal on his lips.
He let his eyes fall shut and reached up to curl a hand around your jaw as he returned the kiss, his brows furrowed in concentration.
Not wasting any time, your hands flew to his belt, blindly fumbling at the leather material to slide it out of the loops of his jeans.
Joel chuckled, leaning forward to trail his lips down your neck, leaving a path of open-mouthed kisses.
âNeed somethinâ, baby?â
âWanna return the favour,â You glanced down at the bulge in his lap.
âMm-mm. That was more for me than you. Missed your sweet fuckinâ pussy.â Joel mumbled against your pulse point.
âMunch.â You couldnât help but giggle.
âYeah, yeah.â Joel sighed, lifting his head and undoing his jeans just barely enough to pull himself free from his boxers.Â
You heard yourself swallow.
Joel Miller was a big man, and you were very aware of that fact. It was written all across his body; from his impossibly broad shoulders, to his beefy arms, to his thick fucking cock.
He stroked himself, once, twice, as his eyes fell to your pulsating, slick core. Beads of precum leaked from his flushed tip and down his length as he did so.
âSpread those legs wider for me, baby. Let me see you,â He breathed lowly.
And you very willingly obliged.
âThereâs my girl,â Joel hummed.
With a hand around his base, he guided himself closer to your drooling cunt, nudging his swollen head against you.
Sighing, âDeep breath, baby.â
And he slowly forced himself in, one hand on the small of your back, the other on the underside of your thigh, prompting you to wrap your legs around his waist as he steadily fed you his cock.
You gasped some variant of a plea.
Needless to say, he was a tight fucking fit.
âTakinâ me so well. Thatâs it, baby, let me in.â He blabbed mindlessly as he continued to sink deeper inside.Â
Deeper, deeper, deeperâŚ
He winced. âShitâthere you go.â
When all of him was nested inside your welcoming channel, he let out a gasped expletive at the sensation.
Full. You felt so full with him inside. You always did.
âFuck, missed this.â Joel panted, resting his forehead against yours.Â
You tried to echo the sentiment, but the only thing you were capable of doing was letting out an incoherent groan of his name.
Joel got the message, though.
Maintaining an unhurried tempo, he rolled his hips back and forth, slowly dragging his thickness against your walls, making you painfully aware of every last inch of him.
âHowâs that feel, baby?â He mumbled, voice airy.
âGood. Feels so good.â
And, fuck, he did.Â
He felt amazing.
His tempo soon picked up, leaving your mouth to fall open as you took every inch of him again and again, stretching you open with enough pleasure to dull the slight pain.
âTell me,â Joel hummed as he continued to drive ceaselessly in and out of your tight channel, adopting a false lilt of indifference. âWhoâs fuckinâ you so good, huh?â
An incoherent syllable slipped from your lips.
âWho, baby?â Joel urged you, unrelenting in his pace. âSure as hell ainât fuckinâ Mark.â
Dumbly, you shook your head.
âYou, Joel.â
Your words were almost drowned out by the symphony of your own moans, which were accompanied by the obscenely wet slaps that sounded every time his hips fully met yours.
âLouder.â He snarled, punctuating his response with an intentionally rough ram. âNeighbours canât hear you yet, câmon.â
âYou, Joel!â
Satisfied, his hands went to hold you by your waist, keeping you as still as possible as he drove insistently into you, his tip now kissing your cervix with every thrust.
You cried out at the feeling, nails raking down his back.
Heat pooled in your gut, your vision blurred, a high-pitched ringing almost deafened your ears.
âJoel, Joel, IâmâŚâ You babbled.
âClose? Go on, gorgeous. Let me feel you choke my dick.â
With his blessing, his name left your mouth in a high-pitched scream, and you felt yourself clench around his throbbing length as your orgasm rippled across your body like an earthquake.
Joel, being the overachiever he was, didnât stop for even a second until your breathing slowed and your eyes fluttered open again.
And, once he saw that you had recovered, he leaned forward to slant his mouth against yours, swallowing your sighs.
âYou okay?â He mumbled into the kiss, barely breaking away.
âYeah.â You exhaled.Â
He smiled against your lips.
âGood. Almost there, baby. Gonna take you against the sink, now, and youâre gonna give me one more, howâs that sound?â
You nodded dreamily, feeling him slowly pull out.
He leaned back and, with his hands on your waist, delicately set you down.
âTurn âround for me, sweetheart.âÂ
You acquiesced without hesitation, bracing yourself on the porcelain countertop.
Joel hummed, kicked your legs open even wider, and, not long after, sank the entirety of his cock into you in one deep thrust.
A sharp breath hit the air behind you, and an airy âfuckâ followed it. This angle made him feel bigger, if that was even possible.
He didnât wait long after that. He couldnât. Overcome with the need to feel you, he started moving. The first thrust was slow. Experimental. The second was hard. The third was harder.
Before you knew it, his big hands found a home on your hips, and he began to drive roughly into you, as if making up for lost time.
He certainly proved he was willing to atone for his absence, thrust after thrust.
âOh, look at you.â Joel tutted and pulled your hair to tilt your head upwards.
You came face to face with the woman in the bathroom mirror.
Somewhere in between thrusts, your mouth had fallen agape, letting loose a long whine of pleasure, which was stuttered by every slam of his hips against yours.
Your hair was frizzy, your face was flushed, your hooded gaze was flooded with desire, and a light sheen of sweat doused every inch of your skin.
You were a wreck, thanks to the man fucking you so well behind you.
âEyes up here.â Joel sighed. âKeep âem open. Gotta watch how well you take me.â
Joel was even more of a sight.Â
The top few buttons of his flannel were undone, his sleeves were haphazardly rolled up, his hair was wild, and the look on his weathered face was nothing short of territorial as he held you to him and fucked you with reckless abandon.
Your eyes fell to where your bodies were connected, hypnotised by how easily his tanned cock disappeared in and out of your puffy cunt.
Again.
And again.
And again.
The corners of his lips were coyly upturned when he cooed, âDonât we look good, baby?â
You could only respond in broken syllables.
âYeah,â He grunted. Then, after a particularly forceful thrust, âwe do.â
He continued to ram into you, finding your cervix with each thrust, keeping his eyes trained on the mirror, fixated on how your tits bounced so prettily for him.
âBeautiful.â He whispered, jaw tight.
If your brain hadnât been turned to mush after the two orgasms he forced out of you, you wouldâve heard him. But all you were focused on was the rush of another climax approaching.
You gripped the countertop harder and gritted your teeth, feeling warmth collecting in your stomach and bracing yourself for impact.
As if reading your mind, Joelâs hand moved from your hip to your front, trailing down until he brushed your clit, rubbing sloppy semi-cricles and whispering sweet things as you whimpered.
âYou gonna give me one more?â He murmured encouragingly, his nose nudging the side of your face.
You could only manage an open-mouthed nod.
His fingers sped in their motions, swiping at your clit feverishly as he continued to rut into you, grazing your cervix each time.
Again. And again.Â
âCome for me, sweetheart. Iâll catch you.â He whispered gently.
Your jaw slackened, your heartbeat quickened, and, in a blinding flash of pleasure, you came with his name on your tongue, helpless to the throes of your climax.
âThere you go. Shit⌠so good for me.â Joel groaned. And then, urgently, âWhereâwhere do you want me toâ?â
Not even a full second later, âInside.âÂ
âYou sure?â He panted, starstruck.Â
âI have an IUD, justâplease.â
He didnât reply. Instead, he pressed closer, his chest flush against your back, letting you feel every shaky pull of his breath as he caged you in. His hands found yours at the edge of the sink, lacing over them gently. His head dropped beside yours, his forehead nearly touching your temple, and a warm breath fanned across your skin as he sighed.Â
And then he resumed his earlier pace.
He rammed into you hard and fast, chasing his own release as if it were a life-or-death situation. And all you could do was take it.
After a dozen more jerky thrusts, his breath caught in his throat and, with a low curse, he came. Hot ropes of his spend spilled inside you, and he rode it out until he couldnât give you any more, which took a few more lazy rolls of his hips.
His breath evened not long after, warm and steady against your browbone. Soothing, almost.
Gently, he pulled out of you, and you felt his come slowly drip down your thighs.
âFuck,â He breathed, pressing a soft kiss to your hair, scruff rubbing against your crown as he did so.
And he bowed his head to rest it on the crook of your neck.
âThat was great, George.â You panted.
Joel snorted tiredly. âJust couldnât help yourself, huh?â
âNope.â
He huffed out a chuckle.
Then, he languidly pressed a trail of open-mouthed kisses wherever his lips could reachâthe underside of your jaw, your throat, your neck, and down, still.
A warm, fuzzy sort of feeling radiated from his touch, lulling you into a state of bliss. It felt like love; it felt like coming home.
You couldnât help the smile that stretched across your face.
Joel mumbled something unintelligible against your shoulder.
âWhat?â You replied, breaking free from your trance.
âI said,â He pulled away and, with two fingers on your chin, tenderly turned your face to look at him. His voice was wrecked and so very earnest when he finally repeated himself. âDonât send the papers. Please.â
He held the rest of his plea in his eyes in the way they shone with a certain sincerity.
You smiled softly and shook your head. Because you knew you never really had any intention to. Because you wanted to hold on to him. And you were glad he wanted to hold on to you, too.
Your lips found his. Gentle, delicate, a reassurance. He gave in to the kiss almost immediately, sighing into your mouth.
âI wonât.â
And you meant it.
thanks for reading!!! reqs are open, if you wanna send an idea or anything over :)
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