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Joel had always been difficult to reach, he wasn’t cruel to you, never mistreated you..but he was always distant. Sometimes it felt like standing outside a house with all the lights on and knowing someone was inside, but every door remained locked. You tried to be understanding to it, his ways, his habits, but sometimes it became harder than others to just let things be.

He’d brush his fingers against yours while walking through town. He’d quietly hand you the better portion of food without saying a word, he’d stand between you and danger before you even noticed it existed. Joel showed he cared in his own ways, you always noticed this. The problem was that caring was where he stopped, communication was always limited. The closer you got, the further he seemed to be. When he didn’t look fine, he’d insist he was, that was when he’d shut down the most.

Every time you needed reassurance, he’d look at you like you were asking him to translate a language he’d never learned. Yet, you kept trying, kept yourself hopeful that eventually something would change. You knew what he’d gone through and that was only because Tommy told you.

“Joel, talk to me.”

“Nothin’ to talk about.”

“Yes there is..”

“No.”

It happened so often it became routine. You reaching and reaching, him withdrawing. He disappeared further and before you knew it, months turned into years of the same cycle. You somehow convinced yourself to accept the scraps, a hand on your lower back, a kiss before he left.

The occasional “You alright?” muttered while cleaning a rifle. But the words you desperately needed never came.

No “I need you” or “I love you.”

Not even “I’m scared you’ll leave.”

You started telling yourself you didn’t need those things although your heart yearned for it. You convinced yourself that maybe this was simply who Joel was. Maybe loving him meant accepting less.

Until one night you simply couldn’t take it any longer..

You had a terrible day..enough small things piling together until your chest felt too heavy. You found Joel on the porch looking out into the sunset.

“Can I sit with you?” He nodded.

You sat beside him as he remained silent. The silence felt like forever until eventually you whispered-

“I don’t think you know me.”

Joel frowned.

“What?”

“I don’t think you want to.”

His jaw tightened.

“Here we go.” The words hit harder than if he’d yelled.

Here we go.

Like your pain was an inconvenience, as if your heart was a chore. You stared at him lost in thought.

“I’ve spent years trying to let you in.”

“You know me.” He uttered low.

“No.”

Your voice cracked.

“I know what you let me know.”

Joel looked away immediately and that told you everything.

You laughed softly..the kind of laugh that comes right before crying.

“I don’t know what scares you more, Joel. Losing me or needing me.” His face tense, he wouldn’t dare look at you.

“You done?” You froze then slowly nodded.

“Mhm.”

That was the first time you stopped trying..Joel didn’t notice. Not at first.

Avoidant people rarely notice when someone starts pulling away because they’re used to the distance themselves. You stopped asking questions, stopped seeking comfort. You even stopped waiting up for him.

Joel just thought things had finally settled down.No more difficult conversations or emotional confrontations. For a while he actually felt relieved.

Then he noticed you didn’t smile at him anymore.Not a real smile at least..the one that used to light up your entire face. A few weeks later he realized you hadn’t touched him first in over a month.

A month after that he woke up and discovered he couldn’t remember the last time you’d said “I love you.”Something cold settled in his chest, fear..

He ignored it.

Until the night he came home and found a packed bag sitting beside the door.

Joel stared at it, then at you.

“What is that?”

You folded a shirt, not answering him.

His pulse began accelerating.

“What is that?” Finally you looked up and the exhaustion in your eyes nearly stopped his heart.

“I’m leaving.” Joel’s heart sunk.

“What?” He walked towards you.

“I’m leaving, Joel.”

“No.” He responded instantly like a reflex.

“I can’t do this anymore.” Exhaustion in your voice.

“The hell are you talkin’ about? You been fine” he took a step closer, confused, defensive.

You smiled sadly.

“I’ve been fine becuase I haven’t been talking to you. That’s what you consider fine?” You shook your head as if that was all the confirmation you needed.

The realization hit him all at once, you weren’t fine. You had just given up..

“So that’s it huh?” He spoke louder, you could hear the anger in his voice. He was pissed but not at you, at himself.

Every conversation he’d dismissed, every time he’d watched you cry and convinced himself giving you space was enough. Every damn excuse he made.

You wouldn’t respond, swallowing your tears as he watched you, shoulders tense.

“And where the hell you gonna go at this time?”

“Maria said I could stay with her until they find somewhere else for me-“

“My brother?” He cut you off defensively, still you wouldn’t look at him.

“Tommy knew about this?”

“Joel, I just told her about an hour ago.” You spoke softly as you zipped up the bag. A wave of emotions coming over him, anger turned into guilt. Guilt that he had pushed you away…that he made you feel unloved. It couldn’t have been farther from the truth.

You turned placing your bag over your shoulder and that’s when it set in over him…panic. Joel’s expression changed.

“Wait a minute, baby-“ he rushed towards you, his hand brushing over your waist.

“Let’s talk about this, you don’t need to go.” A knot in your throat forming, a look of desperation in his eyes you hadn’t ever seen.

“It’s too late to talk-“

“You don’t mean that, come on, put your bag down. Well- we’ll fix this, whatever you need me to do” He took your hand in his as you slowly shook your head.

“I can’t-“

“The hell do you want me to do dammit?!” He suddenly yelled, anger taking over him, his tone harsher than he meant it to be. Never had he spoken like this to you before.

“The hell you want me to say huh?! What is it?! What do you need from me?!”

“I needed you!” You finally yelled back with tears. You pulled your hand away, Joel stood in shock. Just like that he watched you walk out of his life without turning back..

His chest felt tight, he stumbled slowly towards the wall and placed his back against it. He knew this feeling all too well. The walls feeling like they were caving in, he loosened a button at the top of his shirt as he closed his eyes and tried to control his breathing. His fear becoming a reality.

~~

The first week after you left was the quietest Joel had ever known..your absence followed him everywhere. He hated it. The worst part was at night, he’d reach for you half asleep only to feel the cold sheets beside him.

I needed you.

Joel could hear your voice over and over again saying this, the pain in your voice haunted him.

He sat on his porch long after sunset, staring at the house a few doors down where Tommy and Maria had taken you in. He could see the light from the kitchen window. He could imagine you inside, laughing, safe..without him.

The thought made his chest ache, he looked away trying to shake the image out of his head.

~~

The next morning, Tommy found Joel repairing a fence that didn’t need repairing.

“You fixed that last week.”

Joel hammered another nail.

“It’s loose.”

“It ain’t loose.”

Joel eyes narrowed on him, Tommy sighed.

“Still thinkin’ about her?”

Joel stopped moving.

As if there had been a moment when he wasn’t. He stared silently at the screw.

“I screwed up.”

Tommy nodded.

“Yeah.”

“I didn’t mean to, Tommy. I swear I didn’t” he looked up at his brother who gave him a silent nod.

“She..she ok?”

“She’s not talkin’ much but she’s fine” Tommy responded, Joel looked down pressing his lips together.

“Come on, let’s have a drink, you look like you need one.” He proceeded to turn towards his door.

“I can’t-“

“And why not?”

“She’s-she’s in there ain’t she?”

“She went to check on the horses with Maria, they won’t be back for a bit. Besides I’ll be damned if I can’t have a drink with my own brother in my house” Tommy chuckled as he led the way in.

As soon as Joel walked in he could see your shoes by the door, your favorite indoor slip ons he had found for you brand new a while back. He kept his head down following his brother to the kitchen, hadn’t even noticed his brother was talking till he slammed a cup on the counter before him.

“You there, Joel?” He quickly looked up.

“Huh, yeah. I’m ready”

Tommy laughed as he grabbed the bottle and poured them both a drink. He could see how hurt his brother was, how distracted he was.

“Shit, brother if you can’t let me in, at least let her in. You got yourself a good woman. Not much that would put up with your shit” he smiled before taking a sip. He tried to break a smile out of his brother but it was harder than he thought.

Then they both heard the door open.

Both men turned toward the door to see you and Maria walking in, a smile on your face as you spoke about how being around the horses felt relaxing. How you enjoyed taking care of them. So lost in the conversation you hadn’t noticed Tommy was sitting at the table with someone else across from him, until you looked up. You stopped right in your tracks, your smile instantly disappearing. Joel stood up awkwardly clearing his throat, he knew he wasn’t wanted there. The last thing he wanted to do was make you uncomfortable. He could see Maria giving Tommy a look, a hand on her hip piercing him with her eyes.

“Hey-“ Maria’s eyes softened as she turned to you.

“Let me show you what I was working on earlier” she took your hand and pulled you up the stairs. Joel’s eyes didn’t move from where you had stood, the hurt of the realization that you didn’t even want to look at him. He threw his head back chugging back the last of the alcohol in his cup and slammed the glass down. Without saying a word he walked out.

~~

Maria could see how distracted you were, seeing Joel completely threw you off.

“Sorry about that, I’ll have a talk with Tommy. He should’ve known-“

“No, it’s fine. They’re brothers Maria…don’t say anything. I’m not mad I’m just…I wasn’t expecting to see him.” You stared off into space thinking about how tired he looked. Maybe he was having trouble sleeping again.

Maybe he wasn’t eating right again.

You shook off those thoughts the best you could and sighed.

~~

Joel didn’t step near Tommy’s house for a couple weeks, giving you space but still he could see you from afar when you’d step out.

A few days later Joel showed up at Tommy’s house carrying a basket.

Maria opened the door then blinked with slight confusion.

“Is that bread?”

Joel awkwardly held it up.

You’d once mentioned loving fresh bread. So Joel had spent three miserable hours trying to learn. The loaf looked lopsided, burned on one side.

Maria stared, then couldn’t help but laugh.

Joel looked offended.

“It ain’t funny.”

“It absolutely is.”

She laughed harder.

Joel shoved the basket toward her.

“Just give it to her.”

Maria folded her arms.

“No.”

Joel frowned.

“What do you mean no?”

“You can’t buy your way out of this.”

“It ain’t buying.”

“It kind of is.”

Joel sighed heavily.

“Maria, please. I’m tryin’”

Maria sighed, she knew Joel long enough to see when he had regret. To see when something was hurting him to his core.

Maria continued. “Joel…she spent months feeling lonely while standing right next to you.”

Joel looked down, he knew she was right.

“Didn’t mean to…to push her away. Didn’t mean to hurt her” the more he thought about the pain he caused, the angrier he became with himself.

“Give her time.”

“How much time?”His voice came out rough as he looked up.

“As much as she needs.”

Joel hated that answer but he nodded anyway.

~~

He tried. God, he tried. For almost three weeks he didn’t knock on your door. Didn’t force conversations, instead he began to quietly change his habits.

The way you always wished he would..

He started showing up to community dinners.

Actually talking to people. He helped Eugene’s widow repair her roof, fixed playground equipment for the children. He thought of you as he did everything. He thought about how he shut everyone out..including you.

Especially you.

~~

One afternoon you were helping Maria hang laundry when Ellie appeared.

“You should go talk to him.”

You rolled your eyes.

“Not you too.”

Ellie shrugged. “I’m serious.”

“I’m not ready.”

“Okay.” You paused, that was suspiciously easy.

“Okay?”

Ellie nodded.

“Yeah.”

Then she smirked.

“But you should know he’s becoming annoying.”

You sighed.

“What?”

“Guy’s like a sad country song.”

You laughed despite yourself. Ellie pointed toward Joel’s house. “He stares at your window.”

“Oh my God.”

“Not in a creepy way.”

“That doesn’t help.”

Ellie snorted.

“He’s pathetic.”

Your smile faded slightly. Because a small part of you wondered if Joel really was hurting as much as everyone claimed.

~~

It had been a month.

A month since you told Joel you couldn’t keep loving someone who acted like he could take you or leave you. A month since you packed a small bag and moved into Tommy and Maria’s spare room. A month without feeling the warmth of his body beside yours in bed.

You’d cried enough that you simply felt numb.

The front door opened, Tommy stepped inside first as you chopped up potatoes on the counter.

“Need a hand with the rest?” he called over his shoulder.

A familiar voice answered.

“Already got it.”

Your knife stopped against the potato.

Joel. Your stomach turned…but not exactly in a dreadful way.

He walked in carrying two heavy sacks of flour over one shoulder and a crate of canned goods in his arms. His sleeves were rolled to his forearms, a light sheen of sweat on his skin. He set everything down without a word, nodding politely to Maria.

“Found coffee beans too,” he said.

Maria smiled knowingly. “You’re a lifesaver.”

Joel shrugged.

“Figured I’d save Tommy another trip.”

Tommy snorted.

“You hate making trips into town.”

Joel scratched the back of his neck.

“Guess I don’t mind so much lately.”

You knew exactly who that comment was for.

You refused to look up.

~~

For the next hour he stayed busy. He helped out Tommy with a few things that needed fixing around the house. Eventually it was just you and Joel, you on one side of the room cutting vegetables and him on the other, fixing God knows what.

He never once asked for attention, he never looked to see if you were watching. Which somehow made it worse.

Because you were…every single second.

So much so as you began to chop up some carrots you weren’t paying attention and your hand slipped. You gasped loudly as the sharpness of the knife came into contact with your skin. Joel instantly looked up to see you quickly looking for a rag to cover the wound. Without thinking he put down what he was working on and rushed towards you. He had already seen the blood dripping down your finger so he knew it must’ve been deep.

“You alright?” Without hesitation he grabbed your hands but you held the rag still against it as he attempted to pull your hands apart.

“No it’s bleeding-don’t-“

“Let me take a look” his eyes met yours and you suddenly didn’t know how to speak. You watched as he gently removed the rag, his brows furrowed noticing the deep cut. In that moment you wished Tommy and Maria would appear from wherever the hell they were.

“It’s fine, Joel”

“It ain’t fine, you got yourself pretty good. Sit down-“

“Joel-“

“Damn it baby, just sit down” your heart jumped. He caught himself as he called you baby but he didn’t take it back.

After grabbing what he could find around the house he pushed everything on the table aside and placed a bottle of whiskey down with a first aid kit. Instead of sitting across from you at the table, he pulled a chair up beside you and turned your chair to face him, pulling it toward him.

“Could’ve just told me to turn” you rolled your eyes.

“Figure I’d move quicker.” He responded as you looked over at the bottle of liquor.

“Not the whiskey” you sighed.

“Yes the whiskey.” He responded without looking at you.

An entire month since the two of you had spoken more than a passing hello. A month since everything fell apart. Yet somehow you still found yourself sitting in the chair beside him without another word.

He unscrewed the bottle as you swallowed anxiously.

“This’ll sting.”

“I remember.”

His eyes looked up to yours.

“So do I.”

He tipped your hand over the table, his fingers warm around your wrist.

“Ready?” You nodded and he poured.

The whiskey hit the cut like fire.

“Shit-“ You jerked forward with a sharp gasp, eyes squeezing shut.

Without thinkinf you grabbed onto something, or rather..someone.

Your free hand had wrapped tightly around Joel’s. Your fingers dug into his calloused skin hard enough that your knuckles turned white.

He didn’t flinch or let go, instead he leaned in closer and softly blew across the cut.

The cool air eased the burning just enough that you slowly opened your eyes.

Joel was still there. Close enough that you could see every little line around his eyes, every fleck of gray in his beard. His knees against yours, you didn’t want to pull away.

His thumb absentmindedly rubbed small circles against the side of your wrist while he continued inspecting the cut.

“Little deeper than I thought.” He spoke low.

“But you’ll keep the hand.” A tiny laugh escaped you. It surprised both of you, he couldn’t help but smirk.

“There she is.” Then there was silence, your smile faded.

Joel finally looked down, then over and landed his eyes on your intertwined hands. Only then did you realize you were still holding his.

Your fingers hadn’t loosened once.

“Oh…”

You started to pull away. Joel’s hand instinctively tightened just enough to stop you.

You didn’t move.

His eyes lifted back to yours.

“You okay?”

There was so much hidden inside those two words. Not just about a stupid cut but about everything that’s happened.

You simply nodded.

“…Yeah.”

He studied you for another second like he wanted to ask a hundred more questions. Instead, he let out a deep breath.

“Alright.”

He didn’t want to pull away but he did so slowly to finish cleaning up your cut. Very carefully, he cleaned the last of the blood away. His fingers were gentle as he spread antibiotic ointment over the cut.

“You’ll wanna keep this dry today.” You nodded again.

He wrapped the gauze around your palm before securing it with tape.

“There.” He turned your hand over once to check his work.

“Should heal fine.”

You looked down at the neat bandage.

“..Thank you.”

Joel’s eyes lingered on your face.

“You don’t gotta thank me.”

“I know.” For a moment neither of you moved.

Then the back door opened.

“There you two are-“

Tommy stopped mid sentence.

Maria looked between the two of you sitting close together. Joel immediately leaned back, still holding your hand.

You quickly pulled your hand into your lap and looked away.

Maria frowned.

“What the hell happened?”

You stood a little too fast, nearly knocking the chair over.

“I-“

You held up your bandaged hand.

“I cut myself chopping carrots.”

Tommy’s eyes widened.

“Bad?”

“No.” You forced a small smile.

“I’m fine.”

Maria looked at Joel, then back at you.

Joel had already capped the whiskey bottle and closed the first aid kit, expression carefully unreadable.

“It’ll be alright,” he said simply.

“Really…im fine.”

“I think I’m just gonna…go lie down for a bit.”

Without waiting for anyone to answer, you slipped past Maria and Tommy, keeping your head down as you hurried toward the guest room. The bedroom door clicked shut behind you. Only then did you lean back against it, closing your eyes. Your hand still tingled beneath the bandage.

But what lingered far more vividly was the memory of Joel’s rough hand in yours…

And how, for just a few quiet moments, neither of you had wanted to let go.

You overheard Maria telling Joel to stay for dinner, a part of you not sure how to feel about it.

You didn’t hear Joel say much, his mind still lost in the moment of being so damn close to you.

Well feeling so close, yet so far.

~~

Everyone settled around the table. Ellie was away helping Dina with patrol schedules keeping herself busy. Conversation flowed around you. Tommy talked about a broken fence, Maria laughed about someone’s escaped chickens.

Joel mostly listened. Once in a while he’d look your way, not enough to make it obvious but still enough that you caught him every time.

~~

Halfway through dinner your fork slipped from your hand, clattering onto the floor.

Before you could bend, Joel was already kneeling.He picked it up then reached for another clean fork from the drawer.

“There.”

His voice was quiet, your fingers brushed when you took it. Neither of you pulled away immediately.

“Thanks.”

He nodded once.

“You’re welcome.”

Later that evening Tommy disappeared outside with Maria to check on the horses.

Leaving the two of you alone on the porch.

Neither of them was subtle.You sat on the swing, staring out toward the fading sunset.

Joel leaned against the porch railing, hands shoved into his pockets.

“Your hand ok?” He asked as if it hadn’t just happened a couple hours ago. He knew you were fine, but the silence killed him.

“Mhm, it’s fine,” you spoke softly as you looked down at your hand not noticing the way he looked over his shoulder back to you.

“I ain’t here to make things hard.”

“I know.”

“I told myself I’d leave you alone.”

“So why are you here?” You looked up at him. A slight smirk appeared on his lips.

“I lasted twenty eight days.”

“You counted?”

“Every one.” He looked down at the porch boards.

“I kept thinkin’ you’d be happier.”

“Well, I wasn’t.”

“I wasn’t either.” He spoke gently, he rubbed the back of his neck.

“I spent a lotta years thinkin’ if I kept people far enough away…couldn’t lose ’em.”

You stayed quiet.

“I realized all that did was make me lose ’em anyway.” You watched him carefully.

A month ago he would’ve shut down, changed the subject, hell not even have begun this conversation.

Now he stood there, uncomfortable as hell, saying the things he’d spent years refusing to admit.

His eyes finally met yours.

“Baby, I miss you. Every. Damn. Day.” His voice cracked.

“I’d wake up thinkin’ I’d hear you movin’ around the house. Hell, I still catch myself makin’ enough coffee for two.”

You looked down your lap, his stare too intense.

He continued carefully.

“I know it’s only been a month but I’ve done a lot of thinkin’ and I know what you need me to be and I’m sorry I failed you for so damn long.” His eyes teared up but you still couldn’t look up at him. Instead you fiddled with your fingers on your lap, your heart racing. And that’s when he slowly got down on his knee before you, his hands gently cradling yours.

“I can’t lose you, baby. You and Ellie are the only thing that keeps me goin’.” For some reason as happy as you were to hear his feelings, you almost also felt..angry. You pulled your hands away and shoved them into his chest but he held his balance.

“Why the hell did it take you so long to realize that?!” He began to shake his head.

“You don’t get it, baby I always realized it. I just…I just was too damn stupid to say it.” He noticed a tear falling from your eye and it pulled at his heart. He couldn’t take seeing you cry. He looked down at the floor and clenched his jaw, his heart pounding hard in his chest.

“Please come home, baby. I can’t…I ain’t sleepin’ without you. I need you with me,” you looked up, his eyes big and puppy like. You’d never seen him so broken. You parted your lips but couldn’t speak at first.

“I’m..I’m not ready,” you spoke barely a whisper. Your words breaking him. You stood up with him still on his knees before you and rushed back inside into your room, holding your tears in until you locked the door.

Joel held his tears in feeling the burning knot in his throat, he looked down at the ground disappointed in himself. He knew you had every right to feel how you did.

Just as Tommy and Maria walked back towards their home they saw Joel leave with a clear look of disappointment. Tommy sighed and shook his head.

When he walked inside he found you in the kitchen washing dishes, Maria gave Tommy a nod and left you two alone.

“Should’ve left the dishes so your hand can heal” Tommy stood at the doorway. You jumped up at the sound of his voice not having heard the front door open.

“It’s fine” you shrugged. After a moment of silence he continued.

“I saw Joel leave.”

You shut off the water and took a slow breath.

“Did you?” You answered low.

“I haven’t seen him this broken in a while,”

“If you’re trying to make me feel bad it’s not working-“

“Ain’t trynna make you feel bad. My brother can be a bit of an idiot but he’s an idiot who’s crazy for you.” You didn’t respond nor turn to face him either.

“He’s tryin’, sis”

You slowly faced him.

“Now after all this time. It took me to leave for him to show-“

“I know, I know. I told you, he’s an idiot.” You sighed.

“Give him one more chance, let him show you who he really is.”

~~

That night you sat in your room in the dark, contemplating to see Joel. Thinking of what to say, what to do. Eventually you pushed yourself out of the room, Tommy and Maria both asleep you quietly walked out the front door.

You could see Joel’s light still on, of course he was awake. Taking a deep breath walking towards his steps you whispered to yourself what you would say, so lost in thought you were taken by surprise when Joel appeared out the side of the house carrying a lantern. He himself surprised to see you stood speechless. You suddenly felt stupid.

“Sorry, I shouldn’t have come” you proceeded to turn back but Joel quickly caught up.

“No” he caught your hand gently turning you back.

“Please, don’t go” he whispered. You stood silent for a moment, his eyes tracing your features.

“I thought about what you said” you whispered. “And I don’t know what to think, I don’t wanna feel what I felt for so long-“

“You won’t” he assured you stepping closer.

“I promise you I’ll give you every damn piece of me, whatever you need, baby I just can’t lose you again.” His eyes desperate, he meant every word he said. You didn’t respond at first, just quietly looked up at him before taking a deep breath.

“Can I stay the night?” You whispered as a look of relief took over him. He pulled you in closer, God he wanted to kiss you and you knew he did but you watched him stop himself.

Chapter 1 -`♡´- Your new professor

Chapter 2 -`♡´- His ring

Chapter 3 -`♡´- His office

Chapter 4 -`♡´- The door

Chapter 5 -`♡´- The bookstore

Chapter 6 -`♡´-

Chapter 7 -`♡´-

Chapter 8 -`♡´-

Chapter 9 -`♡´-

Chapter 10 -`♡´-

It had been a week since you first encountered Joel. Despite those seven days and your attempts to focus on your job, the thought of him had been front and center in your mind any time you weren’t busy, which was basically all the time.

I prefer the old fashioned way.

It seemed an innocuous enough thing to say. Still, you couldn’t help the way his words looped in your mind. Couldn't help but try to parse precisely what he’d meant— to imagine what he’d meant.

Him desperately fisting his cock in the comfort of his bed, sweat beading across his face and chest.

Him making out with a pussy, tongue lapping eagerly, prepping her for the girth he had to have tucked in those jeans.

Him fucking you. In every position you’d ever heard of. Slow and deep, fast and punishing. Whispering in your ear with that gravelly voice as you came undone under him, panting into the mattress. The face he’d make as he-

The door chime jolted you back to reality.

Fuck me, I’ve gotta get this under control, you thought.

“Welcome in!” You called, pulse skipping as you caught sight of Joel. Your mouth hung open for a moment, brain scrambling for what to say next, still desperately trying to catch up from its previous engagement.

Still reeling, you scrambled to fill the silence.

“It’s you."

Heat crawled into your face. It’s you?! What the fuck was that?

Joel spared you, chuckling. “It’s me,” he confirmed.

It's just another customer, you reminded yourself. You took a deep breath and finally regained control of your usual script.

“Good to have you back. Let me know if I can answer any questions for you.”

“Thank you.”

He’d barely taken a few steps before turning back to you.

“Do you have, uh, rope here?”

“We sure do,” you said with a nod.

You brought him back to where all your kink products were— your favorite section and your area of expertise.

“These are our only rope options.” You gestured at the few packs of rope you had in stock— a gross shortage of options in your opinion. “Unfortunately we only have cotton.”

“That’s alright. Thank you.”

“No problem.” You smiled and left him to browse.

A few moments later, Joel reappeared, two bundles of red rope in his hands. You rang him out, making small talk, and handed him his receipt.

“You’re all set!”

“Thanks."

He lingered at the counter.

"Was there something else?" You asked.

"No. Yes. I uh, I don’t figure… would you be willing to teach me some of the basics? I don’t do super well… with uh… well, I’m more of a hands on kind of guy.”

You hummed, as though considering his offer. As though walking this handsome man through how to tie someone up wasn't a dream come true.

“I’ll show you a few things,” you said with a decisive nod. “But only because you didn’t ask me to ‘show you the ropes.’”

He chuckled dryly. “Never been a pun guy. Never been more glad."

An hour or so later, you’d given him a thorough intro to shibari: the risks of rope bondage, signs of nerve or vein compression, types of rope, key terms, and a few basic ties you demonstrated on your legs, sitting cross-legged on the counter. You’d left him to get familiar with the rope now and again to deal with the few customers that had come in, and he’d deftly practiced what he could, eyebrows furrowed in concentration.

It was during one of these moments that you finished ringing out the last customer in the store. Joel was staring out in space, tongue poking out of the corner of his mouth as his hands worked through the motions of a single column tie. Nothing could have prevented the stirring in your belly at that sight.

You’d been so focused on teaching Joel— on making sure he knew everything he needed to—that you’d forgotten the way he’d taken up residence in your brain. After the mind-numbing break to do your job, you were struck with the full force of his presence.

Though you still noticed his eyes and his jawline, you were struck now by the more intimate details that had become apparent during your lessons: the way he nodded along with your explanations, how his hands unconsciously followed your explanations, and the honeyed way he said "slow down now darlin'" that made heat pool low in your stomach.

Suddenly you found yourself saying something.

“You ready to try doing it for real?”

His attention snapped back to you, eyebrows raised. He chuckled.

“Don’t gotta ask me twice.”

You hopped back up on the counter, extending your arm.

“You sure about this darlin’?” He asked, voice huskier than it was mere moments ago.

“I’m sure.”

He nodded, grabbing the rope you’d been practicing with.

“Single column?” He asked. You hummed a yes.

“The bight goes over twice.” He looped the rope around your wrist once, twice, fingers skimming feather light over your skin. “Then under and through. Twist, and pull through.” He pulled down on the bight, tightening the knot.

You both stared at the knot dumbly for a moment, his fingers still lingering on your wrist. You distantly wondered if he could feel your heartbeat.

He let go, and you pulled on the loose end of the rope, testing the knot.

“Feels sturdy.” You pulled under the cuff. “It’s a little loose, but it’s great for a first try. For something like this, you can have your bunny put two of their fingers underneath to make sure it’s tight but still safe.”

“My what?”

“Your…” you’d said the word without thinking. You swore you’d mentioned rope tops and bunnies when you started your instruction, but now you weren’t sure. “Your bunny? That’s the word for someone you’re tying up. Sorry, I thought I’d mentioned it.”

You were never embarrassed about kink, but you could feel your face heating up. Maybe it was that being called “bunny” turned you on, maybe it was saying all this to Joel, or maybe it was implying you were his bunny while tied up. It was a delicious blend of hot and humiliating. You were sure there was a wet spot forming in your panties.

“You did. I just wanted to hear you say bunny again.”

If your panties weren’t wet already, they were now.

The moment pulled taught. You hardly breathed. Then Joel worked the knot undone, freeing your wrist. You were exceptionally aware of the skin he’d touched, but forced yourself to focus.

“Do you wanna try a double column?” You asked.

“I do.” His voice was earnest, but low in a way that gave you goosebumps.

“It’s probably be easiest on my legs,” you said, quiet.

“Alright.” Without a thought, he kneeled in front of you.

Holy fuck.

“Your ankles okay?”

“Yes,” you said, breathless.

He nodded, looping the rope around your ankles just as he had with your wrist. His fingers were calloused and firm, but his touch was gentle.

“Can I borrow your fingers?” He asked, hand outstretched.

You hummed a ‘yes’, biting your lip. His hand was warm around yours as he tucked two of your fingers under the rope he just laid. “Keep ‘em right there.”

You wouldn’t dream of doing anything else. His hand skimmed the back of your calf as he passed the rope between your legs. He finished the knot and you removed your fingers.

“Tightness better?” He asked, looking up through his lashes at you.

You felt the cuff and nodded.

“Much better.” The two of you looked at one another for a long moment, his thumb absently caressing your ankle. After who knows how long, Joel tore his gaze away and began untying you.

You looked at the time, unhappy to find it was just a few minutes to close. “I think that’s enough lessons for today,” you said.

Joel nodded.

“Thanks for teaching me. It wouldn’t have been the same without your help.”

“Anytime.” You looked away, sure if you looked into those brown eyes for another moment you’d offer him longer, more personal lessons after closing up.

“For your trouble.” Joel’s voice snapped your attention back to him, three hundred-dollars bills in his hand. You gaped.

“No, I can’t take this,” you said, shaking your head.

“Sure ya can. If you’re bein’ honest, teaching me was extra work. I want to thank you for taking the time to show me a thing or two.”

You hesitated for a moment before accepting the cash. Though part of you felt guilty taking his money for something you enjoyed so thoroughly, three-hundred dollars wasn’t an insignificant amount of money for you. Plus, he didn’t seem at all hesitant to give it to you.

“I was glad to do it. And I’m always happy to answer any more questions if you need.”

“I appreciate it.” Joel tucked the rope back into the bag you’d given him at checkout and turned to leave. “Thanks again darlin’. Take care.”

“You too.”

You watched him leave, fingers tracing your wrist where the rope had been just a few minutes before. Over the rest of your night you found yourself grazing that sensitive skin, following the memory of Joel's touch. You swore you could still feel his fingertips as you closed up and went home.

The way his fingers moved, the feeling of his work-worn hands on your soft skin, and his intense, thoughtful gaze as he learned echoed off every darkened silhouette as you stripped off your work clothes and crawled into bed.

You felt calm—content—as you settled in. You lived a good life, but you had to admit it had been a long time since you’d felt as at peace as you did while teaching him. Being tied up always did that for you, but it had been a long time since you’d gotten the chance. Still, it wasn’t just that. Joel’s genuine interest in what you had to teach him, getting to share your knowledge on a subject you were passionate about, was something you would treasure.

As your eyes shut, the thoughts began to layer and blur, blending into a singular feeling of ease. The feeling lulled you into the dark arms of sleep, leaving you with the word “bunny” in your mind and “Joel” on your lips.

author's note: read the tags before starting this fic! I will put specific tags each time i upload. Also keep in mind this fic will be very very smutty I went crazy while writing it. I have like 28 chapters ready and I'm gonna post here on tumblr too. it will take time though. this is the first time i use tumblr sooo I'm sorry if something is weird!!

Chapter One. ⋆.˚ ☾⭒.˚ Your new professor.

The subway was packed, noise coming from every side, conversations bleeding into each other, the low hum of the train underneath it all. It was a busy morning, you’d grabbed a coffee on the way to not risk being late to your first lecture of the day.

It was your second semester in college, which meant you’d finally settled in, you knew the place and the people, you even made friends. The first courses hadn’t done much for you, the usual introductory stuff felt more like obligation than education you actually enjoyed. Now that the new semester started it looked like they would be different, or more interesting at least. The thought of finally sitting in something that actually interested you was enough to make the day ahead feel lighter. 

You got on as the train arrived, every seat was taken, so you just found a spot to stand up and hold on, sipping on your coffee before it went cold, running in your mind through everything you needed to do after the class. You needed to go to the library and borrow some new books, hoping the professor had chosen something worth reading and not the usual boring slop they tended to hand students like it was a punishment.

You zoned out somewhere between one stop and the next, thoughts drifting. Everything was noisy, but noisy places can be quiet in their own way, and that gives room for your brain to go somewhere else entirely. Then the subway screeched to a sudden halt, throwing the passengers into each other, and it happened. You lost grip on your cup and the coffee spilled onto the man’s book and shirt that was sitting before you. You were so shocked your hand flew to your mouth.

“Fuck!”, the man cursed, glancing up at you instinctively.

“I’m so sorry” you blurted out, feeling your face go red. You were so flustered you just leaned over him, plucking the cup and lid from his lap. “I’m really sorry someone pushed me…” 

“It’s alright” he muttered, looking at you, his voice already less angry, like he’d realized it was just an accident.

“I can pay you back for your book”,you were still babbling, as you fumbled for tissues, and before he could say anything you were frantically wiping at his shirt, like you’d completely forgotten that touching a stranger like that was not something you just do like this.

Personal space was a concept you'd never encountered, he must’ve thought.

“Hey.” He caught your wrist to stop you. “I said it’s alright, I just cursed because it was sudden.” He looked at you.

You realized you hadn’t even looked at his face while all of this was happening. Wow. Your face was now red for two reasons, the embarrassment, and the fact that the man in front of you was probably the most handsome man you’d ever seen.

You would rather die than keep talking. Maybe what you needed right now was a natural disaster. Yes, something that would erase the last three minutes entirely. You just wished the ground would swallow you whole.

His eyes were brown, that kind of brown that makes you feel welcomed, hugged. His voice was low and warm. His grey hair looked so soft. You glanced at his hand still on your wrist. 

Fuck, what is your problem?

“Are you okay?” He said, with a gentle but confused expression, pulling you out of whatever that was.

“Yes. I’m sorry” You whispered, yielding to his grip for just a moment before slowly pulling yourself up. The subway had started moving again. You just hoped your stop would come as fast as possible to free yourself from this situation. 

“Well, the damage is done isn’t it? But it was not your fault. ” He smiled a little, dabbing at the pages of his book. “Don’t be embarrassed,” he laughed softly. “Think of it as a literature or movie cliché. It’ll make you feel better”

You looked at him and smiled a little. He was hot as fuck. If this was a movie cliché he better be in your bed soon because what the hell. The fuck are you thinking? He looked old, like - twice your age maybe. But his voice was making you weak, you could tell he was from the south.

“What’s your stop? Please, let me go to a bookstore and buy you a new copy. Whichever you prefer. I feel so bad.” Where the hell did this confidence come from? You were just blubbering a minute ago. 

“It’s the next one actually.” He stood up, making you instinctively step back, watching him sling his satchel over his shoulder. “You don’t need to do that. It’s all fine.” 

You tilted your head up to look at him. He was tall. Broad. Fuck. 

“I need to pass”, he said, and laughed. 

“Oh, uhm.” You stepped back to give him space, only then realizing it was your stop too. “It’s my stop too anyway” You said, looking at him.

“What a strange coincidence” He smiled, as you both moved towards the exit. When the doors opened you both got off the subway. “It was a pleasure, I need to go or I’ll be late to work” He said politely. 

“Yeah, pleasure for me too. Have a nice day.” You raised your voice slightly because of the noise around you.

He turned and walked fast towards the exit. You felt like you couldn’t move; like you were struck by lightning, and just stood there watching him go, something strange settling in your stomach. A mix of anxiety and excitement wound together. You’d probably never see him again, you thought.

You then decided to finally move and go throw away the cup of coffee, turning the whole thing over in your head. You sighed. When you emerged from the station the sun hit your face and it felt almost shocking, like waking up from a dream. That was exactly it. Now back to reality.

The moment you arrive at college you start searching for the classroom, finding your place to sit. None of your friends picked this course and that made you a little sad, your friend would’ve loved your stupid little encounter at the subway. You checked your phone while waiting for the professor to come in. 

The chattering in the room quietly stopped as the door opened. 

What the actual fuck. 

“‘Morning everyone, sorry for being late, had a little incident while coming” he put his satchel on his desk. “I’m Joel Miller” he said, “I will be your comparative literature professor this semester.”

You looked at him as if you’d seen a ghost, you wanted to die. You hoped he wouldn’t recognize you between all the students, then maybe, one day, he’d forget your face.

“I need your e-mails later, so I can send you the course syllabus.” He started explaining about how he’d be teaching the course, but you really couldn’t pay attention. When the embarrassment faded, your eyes started wandering…over his shoulders, his hands, the way he moved. He changed his shirt.

Did he keep a spare in his office? The thought arrived without warning. Him unbuttoning his shirt, his hands on the buttons, his bare chest, the pace. He seemed like that kind of man, calm, insanely calm, the type that takes his time with everything he does. His voice echoed through the room but you caught none of the words.

“Well, I wanted to read you some passages about this chapter of the book but I got coffee spilled over and now I can't really read anything.” he muttered, searching for some readable pages. “This might do.” He put on his glasses and starts reading a paragraph. 

You actually started listening, unable to stop looking at his face. Why was everything he did so attractive? The way he put on his glasses, the way he stormed through the pages, the way he talked to himself while deciding what to do next.

“I think this is a good starting point.” He looked out at the room. “See, I wanted to read you this part to let you get used to his writing. This book can be disorienting at first.” He continued, looking out the window now. “The protagonist wakes up one day and he’s under arrest. No explanation or crime he could name. Men stormed into his home, his apartment, and a process has already begun…” He talked slowly, not in a way that would make you annoyed and impatient, but in a way that would make you wonder what his next words might be.

He was genuinely good at making you care about whatever he was saying.

Throughout the lecture the room was quiet. You could barely hear anything but his voice, low and steady, filling every corner. It felt like everyone slipped into a kind of trance, you'd never seen anything like it. Usually people did anything but listen to the professor, aside from maybe two or three people. But he was different. He made it sound interesting, and that made him interesting to your eyes. 

“...so Kafka has an interesting way to tell us this story. The protagonist finds himself in a confusing position, he doesn’t really know what to do, he’s already in the middle of it before it even had a starting point. The author has this mesmerizing way to put it into words, some processes - and remember this word as it can have a double meaning - once started, you don’t get to decide when they end.” He said, almost talking to himself. “Read the trial parts again for the next time. Try to analyze the parts where K. almost understands what’s happening to him. ” He set the book down. “Kafka never lets him get there. Ask yourself why.”

He glanced at the clock on his wrist, then, for just a moment, his eyes stopped somewhere in the middle rows and you felt your cheeks burning. Did he look at you? No, it was just for a second, that’s not possible. He then moved on, “That’s all for today.” He said, taking off his glasses as he began gathering his things.

You stood up, unsure of what to do, too full of conflicting emotions to think straight. You couldn't bear the thought of him recognizing you in the crowd of students filing out, so you tried to pack your bag as fast as possible. More than half the room had already emptied when you reached the door. Then you heard his voice.

“What a strange coincidence. Again...”

You had your back turned on him but you knew he was talking to you. It felt like your back was burning under his stare. Now you had to talk to him. You turned, laughing a little. “Haha, yes. Again. I’m really sorry about what happened this morning.” 

“Mh.” He looked at you in a way that felt like he was studying you and that made you go crazy for a moment. 

Not only you liked him so much you couldn’t bear to talk to him without your stomach turning inside out, on top of that you felt mortified at your thoughts from moments before.The way he looked at you made you feel like he could read every single one of them

“See you next time.” He said, both his responses a little distant. It was strange, the way he he shifted from that morning. He was gentle, he smiled, his voice was soft. 

Why is he so cold now? Maybe because you’re his student and he knows it now, idiot. 

"Yes, see you next week, professor Miller." You turned and walked out, leaving behind that room that had felt like it was slowly running out of air for that one endless minute you'd spent talking to him. You rushed out of the building and stopped only when you felt far enough away. The cold air hit you all at once, you needed that.

You'd never felt that way before, and it unsettled you. You kept thinking about how distant he'd been when he spoke to you. Why did that make you sad? You didn't even know this man. And he was your professor, you'd never had a problem with professional distance before. Whatever was happening inside your mind and your body, you didn't like it, at all.

How were you supposed to survive a whole semester like this? Twice a week. For six months.

The questions kept coming until you were too exhausted to do anything with them. You had other classes that afternoon, you knew you did, but you couldn't make yourself go. You just sat there, your mind too full of him to be useful for anything else. The library could wait. Everything could wait. Right now all you wanted was to lie down in your room and let the ceiling stare back at you. When you finally felt something close to calm, you got up from the bench and took the subway home.

Once you arrived, you were relieved to find none of your roommates were home. You really didn't feel like talking to anyone. Today had been draining in a way you hadn't experienced in a long time, that many emotions in that short span of time.

As soon as you slipped into bed, he came back. Not all at once, it was the details, the ones your brain hadn't had time to process while you were actually near him. The things you'd half-noticed and filed away without meaning to, were finally still.

The memory of his scent came back at you again, it wasn’t overwhelming, something woody and warm, you had to be close to notice. His hand around your wrist, the warmth of his grip. His mouth. You'd been so close to it earlier, you noticed how soft it looked, how kissable. The way he had looked up at you. Fuck.

You remembered the way he would lick his lips when taking a break from talking. You were so close to him you could feel his presence there now in this moment, so much that desire settled low in your stomach. The need to touch yourself felt stronger with each thought that was passing through your mind and before you could even realize it you’d let your hand slide down, following the warmth that settled there.

You thought of his voice first, it was low, calm, it filled the room without trying. You imagined his voice close, quieter, just for you. His hand around your wrist again, but this time not to stop you but to guide you. He would know exactly what you needed before you did. Your hips moved against your own hand, you already stopped thinking about whether or not you should think about him that way. It didn’t matter anymore.

Your breath came faster while you were gripping the sheet with your free hand, and you let yourself imagine that your hands were his, the warmth was his. You were something he had decided to take apart slowly, carefully and completely. That thought alone made you come, forcing you to press your face into the pillow, muffling something while trying to catch your breath.

And you stayed like that for a while, breathing into the cotton of your pillow until your heartbeat settled. Everything felt far away now, and that's exactly what you needed. You felt emptied in the best way possible, sleep catching up to you quietly.

Somewhere across the city he was probably reading, or sleeping, or doing something completely ordinary, totally unaware that you just used the thought of his voice and his body like that.

The thought almost mortified you. Almost.

What did he say that morning? Some processes, once started, you don’t get to decide when they end. Well, he was probably right.