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handspunyarns · 5 days

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Days Twenty-Two to Twenty-Six, Part IV.

pairing: din djarin x plus-size fem!O/C

word count: 12K

chapter summary: They talk. They fight. They talk. They fight. They talk. They fight.

warnings:  angst, heartbreak, physical violence, mention of sexual assault, mention of child sexual abuse and rape, sexual situations, oral sex (m receiving), mental breakdowns and mental illness, English and Mando’a cursing

***Please feel free to comment, kvetch, or otherwise speak your mind about my work. ***   

You Were Marked: Masterlist

You Were Marked: <- Previous Chapter

Din hadn’t known he had fallen asleep until he woke up. He blinked several times, working out exactly where he was. He lifted his head to find himself reclined fully back in his captain’s chair, a sleeping Grogu sprawled face-down on his chest. Marathel was nowhere to be seen. How the shab does she manage to get away from me while we’re sleeping? Can she levitate? Do I have to tie her up…? Din paused that thought with a smile, then he checked the chronometer and saw he’d been sleeping for about four hours. He listened for any sounds in the main part of the ship and heard nothing. Din’s hips were stiff, and his seat back would only raise up by physically pushing it back into place, so getting up was a clumsy chore. He reminded himself — again — to fix it while he left Grogu sleeping on the seat.

Din twisted at the waist, this way and that, and roughly tilted his head back and forth so his vertebrae would crack. Assuming Marathel was sitting and knitting below, he quietly went down the ladder in search of her and of a cup of caf, with actual caf in the hot water this time. He was surprised at first to see that she wasn’t leaning against the wall, he then assumed she was sitting on his bedroll again while stabbing hell out of that wool roving. He walked over to the galley to heat some water, and turned back to see that the door to his quarters was closed.

Closed? Closed and … locked, he thought, remembering he’d dismantled the door control from this side. But … why? She knows I’m not — out of control now. Din went over to the door, and touched it with his fingertips, willing her to open it from within. He listened and heard nothing. Either she was sleeping … or she was hiding.

Confused and concerned, Din climbed back up into the cockpit and sat in the aft chair, wondering what was going on with Marathel now. He took a sip from his cup, realizing he’d forgotten the caf crystals again.

Haar’chak!

Din went back down the ladder to get the damn caf when he noticed the door to his weapons locker was slightly open. He didn’t keep it locked — on one hand, he should probably start since the addition of a curious toddler, but on the other hand, Grogu didn’t show the least bit of interest in the weapons. Din fully opened the locker, doing a quick visual inventory, seeing nothing missing. He started to close the door when he caught a smudge out of the corner of his eye. Squatting down for a closer look, he examined the smudge, which was in fact a blood smear, and then he remembered: the Dilimgau.

He didn’t put the Dilimgau in the locker; Boba had, because he didn’t know what it was. But when Din took out the marchwyl — the beskar hammer — the Dilimgau had been in there. Now it was gone. What the … Din did a cursory look around and did not see it. Where the shab is that damned thing? He didn’t move it, he felt reasonably sure Grogu wouldn’t touch anything that had hurt his Mama. So that only left Marathel.

Forgetting his cup of warm water on the bottom shelf of the weapons locker, Din stood and turned to the closed door. Is she in there with that … thing? Why would she mentally torture herself like that? Or is she …

With the horrible thought that Marathel may be doing herself physical harm, Din took two steps and was at the door. Knocking, he asked, “Marathel? Are you awake?” Hearing nothing behind the door, he called out, “Please, Marathel, please open the door.” There was still only silence. Din pounded the door more vigorously. “Marathel! Open the damn door!”

“Mama?”

Din spun around to see Grogu standing behind him, looking curiously at the closed door. Din pounded the door again, saying, “Marathel, Grogu wants his Mama!” Din dug in his pockets to find his multi-tool, and he began removing the little panel that had held the door switch before Din ripped it out. “Grogu, is Mama okay? Can you tell?”

Grogu tilted his head and sighed. “Sad Mama.”

He got the panel off and he pulled out several wires, untwisting two of them. “Yes, yes, sad Mama, but is she hurt?”

Grogu bleated, then said, “Hurt Mama.”

“Is it a new hurt or an old hurt?” Din stopped what he was doing for a moment, then shook his head. “We gotta work on a better sort of communication, kid, this isn’t working for me.” He accidentally tapped two live wires together and received a shock. “SHIT!”

“Shih!”

“Grogu!” snapped Din. The door slid open, and he stepped into the opening. Marathel was sitting against the far wall, knees up, arms wrapped around her knees, staring blankly at a point somewhere past where he stood. A meter in front of her on the bedroll, on an old rag, lay the remains of the Dilimgau. Din sat carefully down, trying to get himself into her line of vision. “Mesh’la? Ma’mwsh ha’laa? Speak to me, please,” he said quietly, but Marathel did not move, maintaining her wide-eyed stare at nothing. He slowly moved closer to her as he removed his gloves. He reached out and touched her cheek. “Cyar’e, are you being still? You don’t have to be still anymore. You don’t have to suffer that Dilimgau anymore. You don’t have to suffer that Hold anymore.” Din watched as Marathel’s eyes refocused, and tears spilled over her transparent eyelashes as she shut her eyes tight. “I’m covering up that monstrosity now,” he said, flipping the rag over the Dilimgau. “Cyar’e, why did you lock yourself in here with that thing?”

“I … don’t think I meant to shut the door …” Marathel took a shuddery breath and opened her eyes. “What happened to it?”

“I beat the shab out of it with the marchwyl.”

Marathel nodded. “I think every female in the Hold would be glad to know. Belwhyns weren’t made often, but the Dilimgau was always there for us to see. It was the only one, you know.”

Din didn’t know, didn’t want to know. Marathel’s voice had taken on that flat tone again, the tone she had when she spoke so blithely of the foul deeds done to her by the males of the Hold.

“You probably think that Belwhyns were made right and left, don’t you?” asked Marathel. “There were only ten that I knew about in my lifetime, and I was only present for four of those, so … another six in the thirty years I was living outside?”

Only ten, thought Din. Only ten suffered like she did in the past forty-five, fifty years. That she knew about. How many women, how many girls, were beaten to death or died in childbirth or from whatever indignities they were forced to endure?

Marathel’s quiet, even voice broke into his thoughts. “They didn’t have to, to keep us in line. That Dilimgau was deterrent enough. It was never cleaned, you see. It was the one thing we didn’t have to clean. And the … remains left on it, they would fester and rot, and bring maggots and flying insects. They’d threaten us with it, from time to time. I’ve had it rolled and dragged across my skin, I’ve had it in my mouth, I’ve had it right in front of my face while the Bishop … from behind … especially soon after a Belwhyn was made. The stench of it would make me sick.” Din felt sick himself. No wonder she went septic, he thought. He wondered when he would ever hear the worst, the most despicable act committed by the Elders, for every time Marathel spoke, the bar was set lower and lower.

Marathel continued, “It was the only one, though. I wonder … I wonder what they’ll do now? To make a Belwhyn?” Marathel went silent for a long time, then she shivered. “I carry them, the Belwhyns, with me, now.”

Din nodded. She did, after a fashion, carry those who also suffered. “I carry you with me, now.”

Marathel looked at him. “I don’t understand.”

“The marchwyl was used to repair my helmet. Your blood was on the marchwyl, and the Armorer forged that beskar into the repair for my helmet, and into new armor for my people.” Marathel began to cry again. “I wear it with pride, my mesh’la, that something so terrible has redeemed itself by fire. The others who receive that beskar may never know what you suffered for their benefit, but I will never forget your sacrifice for me and my covert.” He reached out and cupped her cheek, and to his surprise, she pressed her cheek to his palm, and a look flashed through her eyes — just a flicker — that made him think that she did love him, and then her face fell back to her blank, protected visage. “That thing, though, can never be redeemed. It should be destroyed forever. It should be destroyed by you.”

“By me?”

“The marchwyl is no more because of you. The Dilimgau should share the same fate.” Din stood and picked up the Dilimgau as if it were a sacred object. He carried it to the divot he had beaten into the floor, placed it there, and opened the rag to expose the crumpled hunk of metal. He then folded down a wall panel to expose an array of tools. Din picked up a heavy hammer and held it out for Marathel to take. “I’ve done a number on it, but I’ve never seen any metal that couldn’t use more persuasion from a hammer.”

Marathel looked at the hammer, then back at Din before she stood and came forward to take the hammer in her hand. She hefted it a couple of times, and then pointed with it at the tool board. “What’s wrong with that one?”

Din turned to see a small sledge. He traded out the hammer he’d given Marathel. “I thought it might be too heavy.”

Marathel ignored this comment and hefted the sledge, deftly flipped it over in her hand, then spun it, surprising Din. “It’s unbalanced,” she said with shrug. Marathel gathered her hair with one hand and shoved down the back of her shirt. Dropping to one knee, she raised the hammer, and slammed it down on the Dilimgau with a guttural cry. Half-a-dozen times, Marathel hit the Dilimgau, making a much deeper divot than Din, shrieking louder and louder as her rage grew. She pounded the flattened metal scrap two last times, popping the rivets on the floor panel and making it bounce. Marathel slung the hammer aside, nearly hitting Din in his shin, shouting, “IT’S NOT ENOUGH! It’s not ENOUGH!” Red-faced with anger, her eyes darted about, and then fixed on Din’s blaster.

Din looked down to his hip, then back at her, saying, “No, no … don’t even think about it,” just before she lunged at him, reaching for his blaster. He grabbed her forearms, not wanting to hurt her, but he would if she was going to put them in danger. Panicking, Marathel tried to pull her hands free, but couldn’t, so she wrapped her leg around his and pulled Din off-balance, bending him backwards. Her legs were strong, but were no match for his strong arms, and Din recovered enough to replant his foot and spin her, so he had one arm around her neck and one arm twisting one of hers high behind her, making her yelp. “Stop it, Marathel, calm yourself, be st- …”

“NO! I will not BE STILL!” Marathel pushed back hard enough from her feet that she propelled them both into the wall, knocking Din’s breath out of him, and he thought, if I had gifted her that damn sledgehammer, like a token of courtship, this would be our first date. This thought tickled him, even as he gasped for breath, and he let out a chuckle, which he regretted immediately as it infuriated Marathel, and she jabbed her free elbow into his gut as hard as she could, reminding him that he’d neglected to put on his cuirass again … but truth be told, I didn’t anticipate wrestling with a silver-haired hellcat when I woke up earlier.

Her technique was sloppy as hell, not even befitting a new apprentice, but she sure had a good instinct for hand-to-hand combat. Din briefly wondered what Marathel would look like in form-fitting armor when she nearly managed to squirm free by dropping her weight straight down, but her arm twisted behind her back hampered her movement. Marathel cried out and kicked back against Din’s shins, but he slid his other arm under her free one, immobilizing it.

Grogu, meanwhile, sat quietly and watched the proceedings. Grogu wondered if Patu and Mama were doing the thing that made Patu and Mama make strange noises. Grogu wasn’t sure, because Grogu was always in a different room or in the flying bubble when Patu or Mama made the strange noises. Grogu thought Mama was too sad and angry at Patu for the strange noises thing. Grogu thought if Patu and Mama were doing the thing that made Patu and Mama make strange noises, Patu and Mama were yelling a lot more than usual. Grogu wondered if Grogu should get in the flying bubble and wait for Patu and Mama to stop making strange noises.

Marathel continued to struggle and wail, and Din shouted, “Haar’chak, Marathel, stop fighting me!” Screaming like a caged animal, she bent at the knees and the waist, pulling Din off his feet as she dragged them both away from the wall, making him worry that she was going to flip herself — and him — forward. “No, no, ma’mwsh ha’laa, you’ll only hurt yourself!” He pulled back on her, raising her on to her toes, then using her instability to spin her around and pin her up against the wall – trapping her again. Well, this seems familiar, he thought. “Marathel, mesh’la, you need to stop!” Marathel screamed again and slid down the wall to the floor as she burst into tears and wept uncontrollably. Not having a nervous breakdown, my ass, thought Din, dropping to one knee before her, holding her shoulders. Grogu came over to pat her hip and coo sadly. Marathel put her face in her hands and cried while Din sat on the floor too, pulling her into his arms and rocking her like a child.

Marathel’s heavy sobs eventually began to lull, and she felt the calming warmth of Grogu’s touch coursing through her. “No, no, Grogu, my love, I don’t need to go to sleep. I don’t want to sleep.” She sniffled and asked Din, “Are you all right?”

“Me? I’m fine, my ma’mwsh ha’laa ...”

“But I threw the hammer ...

“... and it missed me, my wounded acorn. I hope I didn’t hurt you, but I can’t let you go after my weapons like that.”

Marathel scrubbed her nose with her hand. “You are right. I was foolish and I could have put you and Grogu in danger. I didn’t keep you safe. I’m sorry.”

“Physically fighting you was the last thing on my mind when I woke up,” said Din, finding a cloth in his inner pocket, and handing it to her. “Do you really want to disintegrate that Dilimgau?”

“I want it broken apart into a million pieces so that it can never be used again.”

“We can make that happen.”

Marathel blew her nose and looked at Din curiously, her eyes red and puffy. “... we can?”

“Yes, but you will need to get off my lap,” said Din, his voice teasing, trying to lighten the mood. Marathel arched her eyebrow, but the tiniest hint of a smile curved her full lips, thrilling Din. She slid off his lap to the floor, and Din stood and held out his hand to help her up. “First, we need to drop out of hyperspace, so let’s get back up into the cockpit.” Marathel groaned, but she headed towards the cockpit ladder and began to climb. Din scooped up Grogu and made it to the ladder in time to view Marathel’s lovely behind above him again, wondering if she knew what he was doing.

She did. And she liked it. Just a little. More than a little. More like a lot. And it scared her and amused her at the same time.

They got strapped in. Din did a quick recalculation in his head, and then dropped the Razor Crest out of hyperspace with a small jolt. “Okay, head back down.”

With a sigh, Marathel unstrapped herself and climbed back down, Din and Grogu following her. Din picked up the Dilimgau and searched through a drawer, pulling out a small, lighted device that went beep. Din attached the device to the Dilimgau, and then he moved the Dilimgau remains to the floor just inside the ramp door. As Din set about to making sure that everything was put away and locked up tight, Marathel asked, “Did I need to come down here for this?”

“What’s going to happen is, I’m going to open this ramp door, and the Dilimgau will get shot out into open space.”

“Wait, what?”

Din smiled under his helmet. “We’re going to be in the cockpit, sealed in by the closed door. Then I will bring the ship around and you’re going to fire the ship’s lasers at the Dilimgau.”

Marathel frowned. “I am?”

“Yes, you.” He led her back to the ladder and sent her and Grogu back up while she grumbled that she still didn’t see why she needed to come down just to watch him put the Dilimgau by a door. Din’s smile got even wider, and he got up the gumption to pat her rear end, which she only halfheartedly swatted away. Well, well, well, thought Din.

After they got back into the cockpit, Din closed and sealed the cockpit door and turned on the monitor to the main corridor. “Okay, watch here ...” He released the airlock and the Dilimgau disappeared out the door like a rocket while Marathel jumped with a small shriek. “Now hang on ...” Marathel stood by his captain’s chair while Din swung the ship around. He performed the maneuver with a little more … style than he really needed to, just so Marathel would lean off-balance towards him and grab his shoulder.

Din pulled up the ship’s targeting system, showing Marathel how he could find the Dilimgau, using the tracker to pinpoint its location in the vacuum of space. He turned to her. “Ready?” Marathel only nodded, her eyes wide. Din got up, and gently moved Marathel to take his seat while Grogu stood on the console, watching. Din reached around her and took her trembling hands, placing them on the laser firing control handles, wrapping her splinted fingers around the handles and placing his thumbs over hers on the top buttons. Her breathing was fast, shallow, nervous. “Just breathe, mesh’la, breathe in ...” -- Marathel took in a shaky breath -- “... and out!” As Marathel breathed out, he pressed down on her thumbs, firing the lasers, and the Dilimgau disintegrated in a cloud of sparks. Marathel gasped, her eyes wide, her arms going rigid, and she went still. “You did it, cyar’e, the Dilimgau is no more.”

Marathel began to tremble all over. She pulled her hands back and covered her mouth, sobbing. Din put his arms around her, lifting her slightly so he could sit in the chair again, with her in his lap, rocking her gently as she wept against his neck. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry ...” she whimpered.

“No, ma’mwsh ha’laa, don’t be sorry ...”

“All I do is cry around you ...”

“My mesh’la, you have much to cry about. Cry all you need to.” Marathel clutched at him as she continued to weep. When it seemed the worst of her emotional storm was over, Din asked, “Why wouldn't you let Grogu put you to sleep earlier?”

Marathel found the cloth Din had given her earlier in her pocket, and she blew her nose again. “Sometimes, when I go to sleep, I can hear their voices.”

“Whose voices?” asked Din. Marathel waved her hand towards the glittering remains of the Dilimgau, floating in the vacuum of space. “Are they the women who also had to suffer that thing?” She nodded, and Din wondered if she had finally snapped. “Ner kar’ta … What are they saying?”

“They are singing the only song.”

Din shifted Marathel in his arms, tucking her feet in by his hip. “What parts?”

“The apology part.” Without being bidden, Marathel quietly sang,

“Rwy’n wethi tir’ch calon, 

Rwy’n ym’dirie daererth,

Nido’es ganen chi diodyth y’lore 

Mwywch oher wydd gwnnyf 

Nafarw a ph’eidio

D’ogel cad w’n di’rugar.

“‘I have broken your heart, I have broken your trust, I will suffer the hurt myself, I would rather die than not keep you safe,’” said Marathel.

“Why are they apologizing?”

“They didn’t keep me safe. They broke their promise to keep me safe.”

“Rwy’n di’rugar,” said Din. “You said that meant I love you and you can only say it to children. But it really means …”

“‘My heart breaks to keep you safe.’ We only say it to the girls, because the boys don’t need it.”

“You say it to Grogu.”

As if on cue, Grogu climbed up on Marathel’s lap, and she put her arms around him. “I would rather die than cause him harm.” But you are harming him, thought Din. As if she had heard his thoughts, she said, “I know you think I’m hurting him. I’m glad you think that. It will make it easier for you to leave me behind.”

“Marathel …” implored Din. “You’ve … your mind is broken, as you say, but stay, stay with me and I will help you fix it.”

“I don’t want to be fixed.”

The shab? “Then you can be broken, as broken as you wish, just please stay with me. With us.” He held her tight. Marathel remained silent as Din rocked her in his arms. Deciding to try another tack, perhaps appealing to her somewhat sarcastic nature — which he found so attractive about her — he said, “You know, if you were in my covert, that fight we had earlier would have been considered … a date.”

“A date?”

Din shrugged. “Such is the Creed about courtship.”

“I don’t understand what you’re saying. I don’t understand date, or courtship.”

Din knew that such social trappings were unknown to her, and he struggled to find words that were on her level. “When one Mandalorian has … heartfelt feelings for another, that person gives the other a token, a gift … usually a weapon, and the two … spar, as we did.”

“Why?”

“Well, to see if they are a good match. Sparring opens up … thoughts of compatibility between two people.”

“Your Creed says this?”

“Yes.”

“But what of affection?” asked Marathel, confused.

“Affection comes with time, with learning how compatible you are, with adapting to how that person also lives the Creed.”

Marathel would have responded that she was no Mandalorian, that she did not follow his Creed, but then she remembered that he had told her that his affection for her was less than his devotion to his Creed. Less than, less than, less than. “If you find that the other Mandalorian is compatible with you, then what happens?”

“Then, perhaps, that person becomes your riduur, and the two of you enter a riduurok.”

Marathel frowned. “And what is that?”

“It’s a pledge, a promise, between the two of you. ‘We are one when together, we are one when parted, we will share all, we will raise warriors.’��

Marathel thought her heart would explode. Such simple words, but so beautiful. “You pledge this… for life? Forever?”

“Forever. Forsaking all others, until death,” he said quietly, stroking her arm.

“Is this something you’ve considered doing?”

“Of course,” replied Din. “But I would prefer pledging the riduurok while standing in the Living Waters of our home planet of Mand’alor. That is where I was going before I came to find you.”

“You were? You were going to … enter a riduurok?”

“No, no … I was seeking redemption.”

“Why in Frith do you need redemption?”

Din sighed. “I have intentionally, of my own volition, removed my helmet before others where they could see my face. Quite a few others. I felt I had no other choice, for I was trying to rescue Grogu at the time. And then … when Grogu left with the Jedi, I revealed my face to him, so that he would know who I was.” Din looked away from her. “It is the greatest sin I could have committed in my Creed. Because of my actions, I am no longer a Mandalorian, but an apostate. I must find absolution by bathing in the Living Waters and renewing my pledge to Mand’alor. This is the way.”

“But …” Marathel placed her hand on Din’s shoulder where it met his throat, and her thumb managed to find a narrow strip of bare skin between his cape and his cowl, and he felt an electric shudder pass through him, sending all of his flesh into goosebumps. “But your love for Grogu is greater than your devotion to your Creed, isn’t it? You had no choice, as you say. How could they be so cruel to strip you of your … what was the word … religion? Who you are?”

“This is the way.”

“It seems so … narrow-minded. And petty,” she said, even as she wondered why he was so insistent to not reveal his face to her! She couldn’t be made more of a Belwhyn, they could only kill her once, so what was the harm of one more pair of eyes looking upon his? Unfair! She childishly cried in her head, before she pushed those thoughts away as unseemly and selfish. Marathel awkwardly hugged him, saying, “I am sorry you are suffering so. I hope you find your redemption.”

“I thought you didn’t give a shit about my Creed,” whispered Din, filled with delight that she had put her arms around him for once.

“I don’t. I only care about what your Creed means to you. Perhaps … I am jealous; I have nothing in my life that is so meaningful.” Except for you and your son. Din held her tighter, stroking whatever skin of hers he could touch, and as time went on, Marathel trembled more and more; his touch was becoming too much for her, and she began to feel trapped again, even as she wished she could remain where she was, somehow feeling both terrified and safe.

Din, meanwhile, was savoring her arms around him, having her in his arms, warm and soft, dreading the end of this journey, which was coming faster and faster with every moment they remained in hyperspace. “Please, let me take you in the room below,” whispered Din, motioning to his quarters, “so that I may turn off the lights … let me kiss you, let me hold you … let me convince you I love you.”

Marathel sighed and pushed herself away from his embrace. All he wanted was to fondle her, after all. Just like those nights on Unmanarall, when he’d rejected her plea to look upon his face, just once, before she went into the Hold to give up her life, for him! He says he will always remember my sacrifice, but then he demands to caress me, put his hands on me, and I don’t think I can bear it, thought Marathel, confused and torn by her desire towards Din while feeling repulsed by his touch at the same time. “If that’s all you wish from me, I will go into the room with you …”

“All I wish?”

“… and you may do as you please with me …”

“Marathel, no, that’s not …”

“… but you will not make me change my mind.”

“Don’t do that, Marathel, that’s not what I want!”

“Isn’t it?” asked Marathel, weary.

“You told me you loved me …”

“… as much as I knew how. You said it before, there’s no word in my Oldtalk for love. I merely obey. Even after thirty years of living on my own, I can only … obey a man’s desires. I could tell you that I loved you, but who could say if my love for you was… real, or merely your command to do so? You deserve so much better than someone who can’t see the difference.”

“You know the difference, Marathel, surely you can feel the difference in your heart …”

Marathel continued as if Din hadn’t spoken. “You don’t know the difference, either, though, do you? How could you, living like you do under that helmet? You tell me that my Hold has ceremonial words for every occasion, yet your own Creed has rules and stipulations for … finding someone … compatible!

“Do you know if it’s love you speak, or if it’s what you command of me because you know I cannot refuse? That I am a helmetless, worthless, stupid woman you can bend to your desires? I’m no Mandalorian, I’m not part of your Creed; what would the point be, for you to have anything to do with me … other than simply for your gratification?”

Din went silent and released his hold on her. He took Grogu from her and gently pushed her off his lap to a standing position as he seemingly stared at her through the darkness of his visor. Finally, he dropped his gaze from her and looked out the view shield as he said, “Marathel, I think … I think you may have found the words to drive me away. I’m beginning to believe, as you do … there’s no point.”

“Din, I ...”

“Not now, Marathel.”

Marathel stood, looking at him for a few moments, and then she went down the ladder. Standing in the middle of the corridor, near the deep divot she’d helped make, she sank to the floor, closed her eyes and took a deep breath. At last, I have pushed you away, she thought. Din Djarin, my love, I’m so sorry. Someday, you’ll come to realize that I did you a favor. I do love you, Din Djarin, from the moment I heard you call out my name as I stood in that tree, I knew I loved you. I will miss Grogu, but I will die from want of you. I am so sorry I must do this to you.

I love you both, more than I can bear.

Marathel opened her eyes and looked into the disparaging countenance of Grogu, standing in front of her. Oh, he was angry, she could tell. His little hands clenched into fists, and he spit out, “Mama sad Patu!”

Marathel bowed her head. “Yes, Grogu, I made Patu very sad. I am very sorry that I have hurt you both.”

Grogu was so mad! Mama loved Patu. Mama said so! But Mama hurt Patu. Mama hurt Grogu. Grogu was mad at Mama. Grogu loved Mama, but Grogu was mad that Mama made Patu so sad. Grogu was mad that Patu was sad. Grogu was mad that Mama was sad. Grogu was mad at the dark inside of head of Mama. Grogu was mad that Grogu could not fix the dark inside head of Mama. Grogu was mad that Mama did not want to fix the dark inside head of Mama.

Grogu was mad that Grogu could not say the words about how Grogu was mad!

Grogu grunted and pushed her leg. He did this several times, and then he began to hit her leg. Marathel did not stop him, nor did she encourage him to hit her. “I know, Grogu, you are very angry with me. I am sorry I have made you angry ...”

“Grogu!” Both Marathel and Grogu looked at Din, standing at the bottom of the ladder. “You stop hitting her, right now!”

“He is angry and frustrated, and he cannot say ...”

“Whether or not he can use words is immaterial. I will not have him hitting anyone like … a Hold boy! Grogu, come with me, now. Sit with me in the cockpit. Leave Mahr alone.” Obediently, Grogu went to Din, grumbling under his breath, while Marathel died a little inside, for Din referred to her as Mahr and not Mama. And Grogu did not correct Din that it was Mama and not Mahr. To Marathel, he said, “We’re going back into hyperspace now.” Marathel silently went back up into the cockpit and strapped in while Din set the Crest back on its hyperspace path. After they were back on their way, she went back down without a word.

Din kept Grogu in the cockpit, and Marathel could hear him talking to Grogu in a low but calming voice, just as she would a little Hold girl who was crying over a hurt caused her by a Hold boy. Never would she have taken a Hold boy to task for hurting a girl, not if she wanted to keep her head on straight. Redirection from violence was acceptable, reprimand was not. She may have scolded Grogu for eating eggs, but that was because she didn’t know if eating the eggs that way was bad for him. And then he had put her in a tree for it, which had frightened her because she didn’t know he could move people and not just things.

For a few hours, Marathel sat on her folded blanket — she didn’t feel right about sitting on Din’s bed anymore — and worked on her projects. She finished five of the wool cloths and decided they were good enough. She made a tiny pair of cuffed slippers for Grogu, which took no time at all, and hurriedly made a neck gaiter for Din. If she’d thought about it earlier — and had a finer yarn — she’d have designed a hooded close-fitting cowl that he could have worn beneath his helmet against the cold. The neck gaiter, though, could pull up over his chin and ears, she supposed, and was made in a “mistake rib” that was warm without being bulky. This neck gaiter used the last of the yarn Cobb had bought her. This made her a little sad, but she hoped that someday Cobb would see Din wearing the cowl she’d made. She hoped that the two men could rekindle their friendship, or whatever kind of relationship they’d had before she came along. Marathel was sure Cobb loved Din dearly, although she was unsure quite how a romantic love worked between two men. She could guess, but no such relationship was known to her on Unmanarall. Shrugging at her ignorance, and deciding such knowledge was useless to her anyway, she set about weaving in the ends in her knitting.

Meanwhile, in the cockpit, Din stewed in annoyance. Again, that woman had opened her mouth and, in her strange ignorance and naïveté, spoken the utter truth, this time about Din’s understanding of love and romance. Of course he didn’t know how love worked! What did he have as a base for that knowledge? A bunch of stupid rom-com holos? His history with prostitutes? His disastrous affair with X’ian?

His parents had been murdered before he was old enough to even think about such things. He’d watched his father treat his mother well, but that was common decency … along with lots of touching and kissing, the latter of which he was unable to do with the helmet, and Marathel ran hot and cold to being touched. His buir remained without a long-term partner as long as Din knew him, and while buir had copious amounts of advice about pretty much everything else, his advice regarding a … relationship with another boiled down to:

No means No, and Yes does not necessarily mean anal.

If you’re too embarrassed to have a medic check your dick over if you caught something, you’re not ready to get laid.

Same goes for getting a birth control implant.

When it comes to women: the older the holocorder, the sweeter the music.

No matter who it is: the bigger the cushion, the better the pushin’.

Huh, thought Din, I guess he gave me more advice than I realized. When buir fell gravely ill with the lung disease the first time, Din was a teenager and had managed a single sexual encounter but was still embarrassed about how lackluster and awkward the event was. On his sickbed, buir had punched him in the arm and snapped, dammit, kid, you should be proud about getting laid! Who cares if it wasn’t all that great? The first time never is! And every other time is awkward as hell! Now, go get that kriffing implant, like I told you! Not everyone can afford the damn thing, so do your part!

Several years later, as buir lay dying, his scarred lungs destroyed, barely able to breathe, he had this to say: Kid, I don’t know much … but when it comes to someone special, someone who could be your riduur … if that person is reasonably intelligent ... can make you laugh all damn day ... and has a filthy mind … that’s a keeper. I never found one who was all three at the same time ... I hope you find one, son.

Din’s throat felt thick. He’d forgotten that was the one, singular time buir had called him son. Oh, buir, I think I found one. She’s bright, she’s smart, she can do damned anything she sets her mind to. She makes me laugh so damn much. I don’t know how filthy her mind is but she’s sarcastic and she cusses a lot and she’ll smack you a good one and laugh while doing it.

Din also considered what Lady Senel, the former senator had told him on Coruscant ... he may not always like Marathel but he had to do his best to love her. She’d had a hard life. Her life would continue to be hard, if she changed her mind to stay with him … or even without him, but not on Unmanarall. She would have to figure out a whole new universe while coming to terms with who she was and where she came from and have to endure people judging her for it.

And fuck my life, I can’t think about anything but her, keeping her with me, keeping her safe. I want to wrap her up in her blanket like a Bothan sweet roll and snuggle her on my lap. She’s lost her mind, I’m a fucking murderer, and I want to hang up my weapons and eat the bread she bakes and go to fat and chase her and Grogu around in a little house in our underwear and build blanket forts and have tickle fights and cuddle with them until the stars explode.

No one, no one, had ever made him want to hang up his damn weapons.

Except, maybe, Omera. Omera had come close. She was so lovely, quiet, sweet. But he wasn’t in a position — at the time — to stop running, to remain in one place — even the few weeks he had spent there had been too long, putting Grogu in danger of Imps catching up to them. If anything, Omera had planted the seed of the idea of a life beyond bounty hunting. He’d considered going back to Sorgan, to seek her out, and now he was damned if he could remember why that didn’t happen.

Oh, that’s right. Greef Karga buzzed me with the bounty of a lifetime, if it were real. More money than any other mercenary could believe for a single bounty. And that was Marathel. And she ruined me for all others.

Oh, Marathel, I …

And suddenly, there she was, standing in front of him, with what looked like a cup of hot caf and a sweet dunking biscuit resting on the cup. These, she set on the console. Solemnly, she sank to her knees before him, bowed her head, and held up her hands, palm-up to him, and in a sweet, quiet voice, she sang:

“Rwy’n wethi tir’ch calon, 

Rwy’n ym’dirie daererth,

Nido’es ganen chi diodyth y’lore 

Mwywch oher wydd gwnnyf 

Nafarw a ph’eidio

D’ogel cad w’n di’rugar.”

She remained on her knees, her head bowed, her hands trembling for some time. Din stared at her splinted hands, the metal coils wrapped around each finger, her smallest fingers permanently bent at an odd angle, still discolored, still scarred deeply across the palms and fingers. Her fingers twitched uncontrollably, and her hands shook. Taking his silence for reproach, Marathel dropped her hands, and stood, keeping her head bowed, avoiding his eyes. As she headed to the ladder, Din asked, “Was there anything else?”

“... No.” She went back down the ladder. Din picked up the biscuit and set it aside. He picked up the cup of caf, thinking that she’d never made caf before. He took a sip. It was perfect. He smiled.

Then Grogu Force-stole his biscuit and ate it.

Marathel had refolded the blankets for her pallet and was about to lie down when she heard the strangest sound start. It was oddly rhythmic, soft somehow, like the melody of the only song but made with a sound that was like wind blowing through grass, and plinks of water on rock, and tings like a fork against a clay cup. It was peculiar but soothing. Din came down the ladder and stood there, looking at her. “What is this ... sound?” asked Marathel.

“This is music.”

“Music?”

“Like your only song. Just different.”

“Is this the only music? Or are there ... more songs?”

Din nodded. “More songs than there are stars.”

“Are there ... are these sounds the words to the song?” asked Marathel.

“No ... this song has no words. Those sounds are the instruments playing the notes.”

Marathel blinked a few times, then shook her head. “I’m sorry. I just ... don’t understand a single word you’re saying to me.” Din moved closer to her, placing his hand gently on her waist. “What are you doing?”

Din shrugged. “We’re, ah ... going to dance.”

“Dance?”

Din took her hand. “Dance. Um ... like how you sway with Grogu while you hum the only song. Like how flowers wave back and forth in a gentle breeze.” He pulled her a little closer. “Like how we spun in circles in the water when you were digging clams.”

Marathel arched her eyebrow with a smirk. “The clams you later threw up.”

“Precisely.”

“How does one do this dance thing?”

“You put your other hand on my shoulder.” She did. “Now, I know about this much ...” -- Din held his thumb and forefinger about a quarter inch apart -- “... about dancing, but ... first you take a step back with your right foot. Then you step to the left side. Good, now put your feet together, and shift your weight to your right foot.” Marathel followed his instructions. “Very good. Now, step forward with your left foot, step to the right side, put your feet together, and shift your weight. Then we do that again.” They started the same step over, Marathel looking down at their feet. “Marathel.” She stopped moving. “Don’t look at your feet. Look at my ... well, look up here.”

“I don’t know what my feet are doing.”

“Don’t worry about it. Just ...” He pulled her a little closer. “Just let me kind of guide you as we go.” Slowly, slowly, they did the box step over and over, sometimes stepping on each other’s feet, sometimes going the wrong direction, but eventually they fell into a regular rhythm.

Marathel frowned at Din. “Is this the only dance there is?”

“No. There are dances that are fast, some are slow, some dances you just … thrash around until you snap your spine, as far as I can tell. But … this is the dance I learned from my parents. I would stand on my father’s feet while he would dance with my mother.”

“Was he handsome, your father?”

Din shrugged. “My mother thought so.”

“And your mother?”

“She was beautiful.”

“You must miss them terribly.”

“I do.” And when I look at you, Marathel, I’m reminded of her, although you look nothing like her, and I can’t for the life of me figure out why that is. “Did you want to try a turn?” Marathel just looked at him blankly, so he lifted his left arm out to the side. “Spin in a circle under my arm,” he said, giving her a gentle push with the hand on her waist.

Marathel made a slow turn in the direction Din sent her, laughing quietly. “Do I know how to dance now?”

Din chuckled. “Enough to get by at a wedding, I suppose.”

“Wedding … I’ve heard that word before,” mused Marathel. “Peli said it. She said something about wedding … chapels and a place called Canto.”

“Canto Bight is a planet where it’s popular to visit … wedding chapels.”

“But what is a wedding chapel?”

Din grimaced under his helmet. “Wedding chapels are places where people go to get married. Getting married is … similar to a riduurok. For the most part, it’s two people promising, before witnesses, that they intend to spend their lives together.”

Marathel frowned again, more confused than ever. “It all seems … complicated.” Deep in her thoughts, Marathel tripped over Din’s boot and lost her balance. Din tried to catch her as she flailed, grabbing at Din’s arm. Her hand clutched his vambrace, and she inadvertently managed somehow to start a playback of Din’s holograbber, which displayed the worst thing possible — as far as Din was concerned — the topless, highly glittered burlesque dancers he’d encountered on Coruscant. And even worse, what he’d recorded wasn’t simply a series of still images as he’d thought he’d done, but was instead a long-running holovid recording, which featured a lot of laughing, jiggling breasts, and his own voice saying squeeze in closer, girls and go ahead, give the kid a kiss, he doesn’t bite much.

Mortified, Din tried to pull away and stop the playback. Marathel, however, kept a tight grip on his forearm, pressing the tip of her thumb hard between his extensor muscles. He wanted to yelp in pain but kept silent as Marathel watched the holo in its entirety, then bent to pick up some glitter from the floor as the holo played again. She blew the flakes of glitter from her hand through the holo projection, and Din knew that she now knew what the glitter was definitely not metal dust from the ship. Marathel arched her eyebrow, but refused to look at him as she said, “You need better control of that thing.” She released his arm and brushed off her hands. “I think I’d like another cup of tea before I take a rest.”

As she headed back to the water spigot, Din stammered, “Marathel … I …”

Marathel turned, her face as blank as a cloudless sky. “Did you want some tea as well?”

Din swallowed the hairball in his craw. “Yes … please?” She flashed him a tight smile, then turned to the galley to heat two cups of water. She stirred the tea leaves into the cups, wishing Din had a proper teapot. She handed off a cup to Din and then she sat on her pallet of blankets, her back to Din as she sipped her tea, holding her cup with both hands.

Din felt devastated. He wasn’t quite sure how Marathel was processing this; she defied standard reactions at the best of times. He sat down on the floor behind her and watched her shoulders sag. “Marathel, I …”

“Those ladies were very fancy,” she said, her voice flat. “Who were they?”

“Just some … burlesque dancers I ran into on Coruscant.”

“Dancers? Do these ladies thrash around until they snap their spines?” Marathel laughed lightly. “Never mind, it doesn’t matter.” She half-turned and held out her cup to Din. “I’m finished with my tea; I think I’ll rest for a while now.” Din took her cup and watched her settle down on her pallet and pull her blanket over her head before he put the cups in the basin in the galley. She’s hiding again, she’s angry with me, and this is her only way she can show her displeasure and tell me I’ve hurt her, by dismissing me.

Marathel was angry, just a little bit, but mostly she was disappointed. For all his talk of riduuroks and weddings and promises to forsake all others, Din was … a man, after all. Men were allowed to do as they pleased, while women were … not. And she knew that she was in no way as fancy or pretty or bold as the shiny sparkly ladies. She felt as plain as a rock in the dust, in her bland clothes and saggy body and long unkempt hair. She couldn’t behave like that. Her abilities were limited and specific. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath in, then out, trying not to cry again.

“Mesh’la?”

Marathel’s eyes snapped open. “What?”

“Please, Marathel, please … don’t shut me out.” She said nothing. Din sighed. He started to say something to her, and then thought better of it. He felt the cold stare of eyes on him and turned to see Grogu sitting in the doorway of his quarters, where he’d been watching Patu and Mama dance. Din wondered just how much the boy understood what he saw and heard. It was easy to dismiss the child, based on his limited vocabulary, but Din believed those large, beautiful eyes of his boy missed nothing.

Din picked up Grogu and set him in his little hammock. “Listen, kid,” whispered Din. “Mama and I need to … talk. Are you okay with being in here by yourself?” Grogu nodded. “I’m going to keep trying, kid, trying to talk Mama into staying. Okay?” Grogu looked dubious, but patted Din’s helmet before snuggling down. Din tapped his forehead to Grogu’s, whispering, “I love you, little guy. And I promise to do my best with Mama.” Grogu reached up under Din’s helmet and touched his chin. Feeling revived by the simple loving touch, Din tucked Grogu in before turning the lights low in the tiny room.

Din stepped out, dragging his bedroll with him. Marathel looked back over her shoulder to look at him, asking, “What in Frith are you doing now?”

Din shrugged and closed the door to his quarters. “We get to Unmanarall in a few hours. I want to spend as much time as possible next to you.” He positioned the bedroll just behind her on the floor and lay down on his back, staring at the ceiling. Marathel turned back away from him but kept the blanket off her head. After laying there in silence for some time, Din said, “I’m sorry about the fancy ladies with all the glitter. They didn’t come on the ship; we found ourselves in their dressing room after ... that doesn’t really matter, does it? That was only where half the glitter came from anyway …”

“Glitter?”

“The sparkly metal bits on the floor.”

“So, you did lie to me. Why in the name of Frith, of all things you could have lied to me about, did you lie about that?” asked Marathel. “You know how stupid I am …”

“You’re not stupid, Marathel…”

“… you know I’d believe anything you tell me, because how would I know any different? But this? You choose this to lie about,” she said sharply, plucking some flakes from the floor in front of her and tossing them in the air. “And you wonder why I can’t trust your words of love.”

“You would have preferred I told you about the topless dancers? You would have reacted favorably to that?”

“We’ll never know now, will we?” she snapped. “So, where did the rest of the glitter come from?”

“I was thrown through a plate glass window and into a display of glitter lube. It went everywhere.”

“What the …”

“And then I was smacked in the helmet with an enormous dildo; believe me, it was not a pleasant experience!”

“I wouldn’t know; I don’t know what a dildo is!”

“I’m glad you don’t know! That thing was horrifying!”

Both of them made a huffing noise and crossed their arms simultaneously. After a few moments, Marathel asked, “So, what is a dildo?”

Din grimaced under his helmet, but decided that since she asked, he’d tell her. “It’s an object used as a substitute … or an additional … penis during sex.”

Marathel was aghast. “Like a … Dilimgau?”

“Frith, no, Marathel. That Dilimgau was a torture device, nothing more! A dildo is meant to be ... pleasurable.”

“But you said it was horrifying.”

“Well, I thought it was horrifying.”

Marathel scoffed. “What was so horrifying about it?”

“It was enormous! Half my height in length! As big around as my forearm. With a fist at each end.”

Marathel was silent for a few moments. “Holy Frith. Who would want to use something like that?”

“I have no idea.” Yes, I do. I know a few who would see that thing as a challenge, not a threat.

“I can’t even think of how … such a thing … would be used.”

Din sighed, wishing he had her ignorance of such things. “I doubt the designer meant for it to be used like a club against a Mandalorian’s helmet, though.”

“Was it … hard?”

Unsure of whether Marathel was being sarcastic, it took all of Din’s self-control not to burst out laughing. “Umm … sort of?” Marathel snickered, and then Din began to chuckle, and before they knew it, they were both laughing. Oh, buir, she does have a bit of a filthy mind. After they had laughed for a while, Din said, “That wasn’t even the worst part of the day.”

“Oh? Then what was?”

I decapitated a man for burning up your socks. “When Fennec caught up with me, she gave me a few good smacks.”

“Why in Frith would Fennec hit you? What did you do?”

“Well …” Din reached out and put his hand on her arm, hidden under the blanket, and he was pleased that Marathel did not jerk away. “She was upset with me for not telling you about my covert not accepting the Aurodium coins. They didn’t, cyar’e, the Armorer rejected them, because … because in the Armorer’s eyes, you should receive the bounty. She said that the coins were tainted by your suffering, and it would be dishonorable to keep them. Thanks to Fennec and others, I was able to exchange all those coins into credits. And that money is now yours.”

Marathel half-turned to look at him. “I don’t understand … you mean … what am I to do with money? I don’t need it, where I’m going.”

“No, not on Unmanarall, but …”

Marathel’s face fell, and she rolled back to her side and pulled the blanket back over her head. I went into that Hold for no reason, and for nothing. When I awoke on Tatooine, and you told me you’d gotten the coins, I wish now I’d never woken up. “I don’t want the money. You keep it. Surely you can use it.”

“But it’s not mine to keep …”

“I don’t care. I don’t want it! Keep it for Grogu, for his future. Use the money so you can stop this bounty hunting thing and keep him safe! Get a better ship, something …”

“A better ship? What’s wrong with my ship?”

“I’m already terrified of being in here, with just that door keeping us from dying at any moment. And then we’re flying on a repair that I made when I have no idea what I’m doing? You’ve trusted me with a repair that might fail and kill us all!” cried Marathel.

Din shrugged. “Hell, Grogu’s made a couple of repairs on this ship.”

“And you wonder why I can’t trust your words.” Marathel sniffled. “I’m dumb with words. I don’t understand much. But it seems that words always lead to lies.”

“I understand how … why you can’t trust my words. Your scope is limited, but you are the furthest thing from stupid, ma’mwsh ha’laa. You are so much more than you think you are. I wish I could find the words to convince you of that.” He continued to stroke her arm under the blanket. “Fennec also gave me a what-for, for telling you that I loved you, just as you were leaving.” Din squeezed her arm. “But you had waited for me to get there, and I knew that I had to tell you, because there was always the chance you wouldn’t survive. And if I didn’t tell you, and if you had died, it would have been my greatest regret.

“But I was so afraid, afraid you’d reject me, I … I’m still afraid, because I’m losing you. Mesh’la, ner kar’ta … no matter what you may think of yourself, how you don’t deserve to be part of my life, I will always, always believe that you are the second-best thing that has ever happened in it.” Marathel did not respond. Din sighed. “Dank ferrik, Marathel, I would have thought you’d at least have a smart-assed retort to being second best.”

“Your first best is Grogu. As it should be.”

“You make it sound like he should be my only best.”

“As it should be … for an …” — inbred incestuous whore cunt freak — “… for someone like me.”

Din was silent for a long me. Then he quietly said, “No one has to know about that.”

Marathel frowned and tossed back her blanket. She rolled to her back and turned her head to look at him. “If what was done to me, how I was bred … you say it doesn’t matter. But if it truly does not matter, then … why hide it?”

“It’s not hiding it; it’s just not announcing it to everyone.” Marathel narrowed her eyes at him as he said, “People talk.”

“I wouldn’t just … introduce myself to strangers as the Inbred Inces—…”

Her hand was suddenly grabbed by his, his thumb pressing against her fingers. “Stop. I agree with you. But it still doesn’t change what I believe I feel. I want Patu Mama, Marathel, just like Grogu says. I want Patu Mama as much as — even more than — Grogu does.”

Marathel pulled her hand away, saying, “There’s no point, Din.” She flipped back to her side … but left her blanket where it was.

Din sighed, and rolled to his side as well, looking at the back of her head. “We have a pattern already, mesh’la … we get close to talking about the important things, and then we spar. I suppose we are alike, as Cobb told you.” He lifted his hand, holding it above her hip, thinking he could feel the warmth of her skin through those horrible blue pants she was wearing.

“Cobb was a good friend,” said Marathel, wistfully. Before Din could process his thoughts about Cobb, she continued, “I am sorry for what I did to the two of you.”

“What you did?”

“I made you two angry with each other.”

Din frowned under his helmet. “And how did you do that?”

“I let him kiss my cheek, hold my hand …”

Din rolled his eyes. “Cobb Vanth is a man-whore who loves touching and kissing people.”

“Is he good at kissing?”

“Is he good at …?” stammered Din. Marathel smiled. Din had sounded mildly shocked she asked him that. “You know I can’t … the helmet…”

“I think, Din Djarin, that you love him very much, and he loves you as well. He’s terribly worried about you and Grogu. He fears for your safety,” said Marathel. “And … I sincerely doubt that a man as … intense … as Cobb Vanth would let anything as simple as beskar come between him and a pair of lips he’d like to kiss.”

“You’re … not wrong. I can remove my helmet so long as the other person cannot see. Darkened rooms, blindfolds.” Din listened to Marathel breathe. “You are wondering why I didn’t … allow you that much of me. Why I led you to believe that the helmet was the issue.” Din took a breath, collecting his thoughts. “I didn’t want to blindfold you. I felt that was unworthy of you. You deserved better than that.” Marathel remained silent. “I … believed that you were going to drop off the eggs and then go back to the hut to spin and weave and live among your Dahls, and eventually forget about me.

“It was better, I thought, to remain anonymous in your eyes, because I knew I was leaving. Showing you my face was too hard to consider.

“And then, you told me to be still. Be still. I heard you, I did. My chest, the bite mark burned, and I was frozen to the spot. Olba got you out of there, and she handed you over to me. Rodanthe left you, and she handed you over to me. And I was the one who handed you over to your father. You made me do it, and whether it was this damned bite mark or my love for you, I don’t care.

“But right now, I wish I could make you turn to me so that I may look at your eyes as I tell you I love you.”

There’s no point. There’s no point.

Making her decision regarding what she intended to do next, Marathel reached up and lifted her hair over her head, exposing the back of her neck, knowing that she was releasing her scent to Din as he lay so close behind her. And it worked like she knew it would: she heard his sharp intake of air, and then the little hitch as he caught the warmth from underneath her thick shock of hair. She heard his helmet leaving his head and then his lips against her skin.

Typical. She made the decision to be attentive and fast, to make it go faster for him, so hopefully it wouldn’t be as good. The Elders preferred everything to go longer, these little tricks she was using couldn’t be used too often on them; they would give beatings if they didn’t come when they wanted.

Din was immediately aroused, even though he fought it. Osi’k, he thought, oh kriff oh kriff oh kriff, I cannot keep control around this woman. He nuzzled her hairline and breathed deep. He kissed her neck and then licked her salt off his lips. His hand slid down her ribs to her hip, and she winced as he hit a couple particularly sore spots. She let him linger on her skin for a while before she asked, “Did you want more?”

“Mesh’la,” he murmured.

“If you want me to face you, put your helmet back on.” Din lifted his lips from her neck. “Did you hear me?”

“I heard you.”

“Then either put your helmet back on, or … turn off the lights,” she said. Din swallowed … and put his helmet back on. When she heard the amplified breathing, she turned and sat up. “Tell me what you want,” she said without looking at him.

Din reached up and touched her cheek. “I want you. I want you with me, with Grogu.”

“But you’re a man. This is all men want.” Marathel’s hand went to his belt buckle, pulling on it, loosening it.

Din began to sit up and reached for her hand. “What’re you …” Her hand had already unbuttoned his waistband and was slipping inside when he gripped her wrist. Her other hand clawed at the bite mark on his chest, and Din could swear he heard the words be still whispered under her breath, and he felt he no longer had control of himself as he let go of her wrist, laid back, and went still. He felt her warm hand pluck his cock out of his pants and gently stroke it as it began to grow erect. Marathel turned and leaned across Din’s middle, her back to him. “Marathel, no, not like this …” and Din groaned as she took him fully in her mouth, swiping her tongue down its length, then up again. Din tried desperately to remain quiet, and he turned off his helmet’s modulator. He reached for her, but could only touch her back, her hip, her shoulder. Not her hands or her face, he couldn’t see her eyes as she did the most amazing things with her tongue, lightly dancing on the edges of his head. Her pace quickened, and she alternated between short strokes and long, moaning in her throat, and her lips vibrated and threatened to undo him entirely. He craved for this to last longer, he wanted it to be already over, he wished she hadn’t started this. Oh, dank ferrik, this is the best I’ve ever had, not better than Cobb, but different, and it’s so good, he thought. At the same time, he cursed himself for thinking such a thing, Marathel having suffered so, spending her entire life satisfying a Hold full of depraved perverted men in this way.

But then he’d feel the back of her throat, and he thrust in and out her mouth, and her lips were rough but wet, she was so good at keeping her mouth wet, and her lips changed pressure on his cock, back and forth, and he groaned again and continued to fuck her mouth as he wondered if he could pull her hair a little bit so she’d moan again and hum on his cock but she moaned anyway, because he was pressing on her back with his hand and it hurt where he pressed, but if he grabbed her hip again it would hurt worse because there was a particularly deep whip mark there and his hand tried to make an inroad into her waistband, but she was wise to this and she had positioned her body in such a way that his hand was at a bad angle to easily access her pants, for she had learned that trick at a young age, as well as this trick of positioning herself across his body this way, because the Bishop claimed he always wanted to be able to see his cock in her mouth but she could get him to finish faster when he couldn’t see her because the Bishop thought her plain and he often wanted her to face away so then he could pretend she was somebody else, just like Din could do now, but she didn’t need to pretend.

There was no point.

Marathel was gently massaging Din’s balls and considering shoving a finger up his ass to make him finish quicker, so bored she was by sucking his cock, for she’d sucked the Bishop’s cock countless times, and when he demanded it, she would suck and tug other Elder’s cocks because the Bishop loved seeing her get splashed by many loads of cum at once, and her ass had been big and round when she was a child, even though she was a skinny thing until her breasts budded, but her wide hips gave her a womanly look even as a little girl, and the Bishop had to chastise himself for taking her child-ass as often as he did, sometimes the Bishop would simply slide his cock between her ass cheeks until he spurted on her back, and she had to wipe the cum off her back and lick it from her hands, and that was her treat for being such a good girl.

Din was close, even though he didn’t want this, he didn’t want to come in her mouth, her magnificent, beautiful, plush mouth, dank ferrik, haar’chak! This kriffing mouth of hers! Oh, fuck me, her tongue, oh fuck oh fuck oh FUCK …

Din thrust his hips as deep as he could and Marathel pulled her head back so she could catch all of his cum without choking, swallowing three times in quick succession, and she softened her sucking and slowed her tongue on him as he sank back down from his climax, and he’d bit his lip hard so that he could remain quiet while he came in Marathel’s mouth after she had given him possibly the best blow job of his life, and the knowledge that she’d been giving head her whole sad, sad, life hit his conscience like that dildo had hit his helmet, and he let out a single guilty sob, which Marathel mistook as a climax grunt.

She replaced his penis within his thermals and did up his pants and belt. She sat up and rolled away from him, hiding behind her hair as she lay down with her back to him, tears on her cheeks.

He lay flat on his back, staring at the outlines of the ship’s mechanical panels through his helmet’s visor, tears on his cheeks.

After a long time, Din turned the lights off with his vambrace control. He reached up and removed his helmet. Rolling towards her, Din slid an arm under her neck and used his other arm to roll her to face him. He touched her face in the darkness but could not feel her tears through his glove. He put his lips against her forehead and stroked her hair. Marathel remained still.

Once he finally fell asleep, she gently removed herself from his arms, rolled back over, and stared into the darkness until she fell asleep herself, her heart filled with self-loathing and disgust.

Whore Cunt.

Future Days: coming soon

#the mandalorian angst #mando angst #din djarin angst #din djarin fanfiction #star wars fanfiction #starwarsficnetwork #mandalorian smut #pedro pascal stories #pedro pascal characters #pedro stories #pedrostories #lots of trigger warnings #mando smut #din x afab oc #din x plus size fem oc

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handspunyarns · 25 days

Text

Well now I’ve read about the first …. Dozen paragraphs and I am truly intrigued but I have to DO stuff now 🙄

The Journey to Jackson {Joel Miller x F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 21.3k

Warnings: NON-CON, Coercion, forced copulation, mentions of sterility, medical examinations without consent, forced breeding, threats of death, nipple play, vaginal sex, cock riding, restraints, cream pie, killing, escape, pregnancy, sickness, anxiety attacks, labor, giving birth, breastfeeding, oral sex (female receiving)

Comments: Being taken by a group that has a fertility issue, Joel is forced to procreate with one of the women, you. When he escapes, he brings you with him. Making the journey to Jackson even more perilous.

🚨🚨 DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT - This story contains elements of forced copulation/NON-CON for the purposes of breeding/forced impregnation. 🚨🚨

Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers

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|| MasterList || Joel Miller MasterList ||

Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

He had assumed there was a settlement nearby. The closest stores were pilfered of anything and everything that could be used. Making him wary as he set up camp. “No fire tonight.” He grunts when Ellie drops a handful of sticks into the middle of the small clearing. “Aw man, I wanted to clean up!” The teenager pouts, making Joel snort. “It’s not cold, get some water and wash.” He tells her, smirking to himself when she starts grumbling under her breath in typical teenager fashion. He listens for the sound of animals moving, but it’s silent.

They come in the middle of the night. Joel had settled into a restless sleep, when they had surprised him. Shouting and fighting, the butt of a rifle slams against his forehead right as he hears Ellie shouting for them to let her go. Blacking out into oblivion.

When Joel wakes up, his head is throbbing and he groans as his eyes flutter open. "Good, you're awake." A male voice sounds out and his instincts kick in as he jerks his body but discovers he's been tied to a chair.

"Wha- let me go." He growls, voice rough from being knocked out. He needs water but he daren't ask for it. "Where's the kid?" He demands, needing to know that Ellie is safe.

The man chuckles, "she's being taken care of, don't you worry." He promises.

Joel hisses, "you better not touch a hair on her fucking head otherwise I'll destroy you." He threatens and the man snorts, "we got your guns, we got your kid, and you're tied up. All you got is your mouth."

Joel chuckles, his vision clearing as he glances around the room. "That's all I need." He assures him with a cocky chuckle as he assesses the room, his eyes widening slightly when he sees a naked woman standing there, gun pressed against her head. "What - what the fuck is this?" He demands, stomach twisting with unease.

You shake, shivering from the cold and the fear. “I- they-“ the gun presses into your temple harder and you choke out a cry before you answer. “You have to fuck me.” You manage. “What? No.” The man tied to the chair growls out, shaking his head.

“Yes, you will.” The man with the gun tells him. “All we want is for you to knock her up.” He chuckles darkly. “Shouldn’t be a problem, she’s got a nice set of tits.” His hand not holding the gun slides up to cup one name you flinch. “All you gotta do is let her ride your dick.”

Joel shakes his head, "no. Fuck no. I - let me go. If you let me go now, I promise I won't kill all of you." He chuckles, "actually, I promise I will make it quick." He smirks, allowing himself to act like he isn't freaking out on the inside. You are gorgeous and he hasn't been with a woman since Tess. but he refuses to touch you, especially when you have a fucking gun held to your head. It's clear you don't want this as much as he doesn't want it.

All of the men chuckle. “Big words from a man in your position.” The one holding you snorts. “James…” you whimper, making him growl.

“Shut up!” He hisses as he shakes you, not wanting this man to know his name. “You know why we are doing this!”

Joel swallows harshly, never liking to see a woman being abused like this. It's clear you aren't doing this voluntarily. "Why are you doing this?" Joel asks, wanting to know what the fuck this is all about. He doesn't want to get you killed but it's every man for himself in this new world.

“We had mumps go through our settlement five years ago.” One of the men tells Joel. “All our men are sterile. Except for those that have joined us. We need kids.”

"We need another father. Can't be inbreeding even in dire times. We need new DNA and we found this one a few weeks ago." He says, nudging you forward. "She can suck your cock if you want her to get you ready. She's good at it." He smirks at you and you wrinkle your nose in disgust at giving him a blow job at gun point.

"I ain't having any kids. I got the snip." Joel lies, wanting to avoid this situation and get out of here to find Ellie.

The leader, not holding the gun, scoffs. “Too bad we know that ain’t true.” He tells Joel. “Got a doctor that used to do them back when the world wasn’t shit.” He gestures towards Joel’s unbuckled belt and unzipped pants. “No stitch scars. You ain’t been snipped.” He shrugs slightly. “Look, it’s not that hard, you get to blow a few loads inside her and then we’ll let you go.” He lies. “Won’t even make you pay child support.” The laughs are raw and mean as the other men chuckle.

Joel clenches his jaw, fucked off at being violated like that while he was unconscious. He looks over at you, your terrified eyes making him feel sick. "I don't think I can get hard when she's fucking terrified." He says, knowing that he won't get turned on in a room full of other men waiting for him to blow his load.

“She’ll get into the mood.” The one holding you promises, squeezing your tit again. “Won’t you, sweetheart?”

You wince and nod quickly, aware that the gun at your head is the prime motivation. “Maybe we can be alone?” You beg. “I won’t- I can’t untie him.” You tell them. “Just- you can check to make sure he came inside me, but please, please, don’t make me do this while you watch.” You regret ever coming to this part of this fucking world. Planning on escaping as soon as you can from these twisted monsters. Every one of them needs to be killed and you hope that will happen soon.

The leader nods, "fine. We will leave you alone but any bullshit and you both get a bullet in the head. And you-" He looks at Joel, "your little companion will be taking her place next." He threatens and Joel feels sick, knowing that he has no choice now. It's him or Ellie and Ellie will always be his first choice.

He nods, "fine. Leave us." He demands. The man holding you shoves you forward and you stumble, the gun leaving your head as they exit the room and you hear the lock click in place.

When the lock clicks, you start crying. “I’m sorry- I don’t- it’s not my-“ you babble, wrapping your arms around your body and turning to the side so you don’t feel so vulnerable. “I’m- I’m ovulating- that’s why they want you to fuck me.” You manage.

Joel flicks his tongue, always uncomfortable when a woman cries and this is no exception. “How did they capture you?” He asks, needing you to calm down.

“I- I was trying to make it to Wyoming.” You shake your head, feeling foolish for ending up in this situation. “I- my family used to have a ranch there. I was in college when the outbreak happened and I’d finally got out of the Kansas City QZ. The rebels took over and I escaped, I was- I got captured when I stopped by the river.”

Joel realizes how close you’ve been traveling alongside him and Ellie and he’s never seen you. “I’m going to Wyoming. My brother…he’s out there. I gotta go west.” He says, “this new world…it’s horrific. Men are monsters. You should’ve never been alone.”

You snort. “Believe me- I know. But I didn’t have anyone.” You bite your lip and look over at the man tied to the chair. “Your girl, she’ll be alright. They won’t touch her. At least not now.” You close your eyes and sigh. “I just want to go home.” You whimper, a daily thought now.

“I’ll get you home.” He promises, knowing he has to give you hope in this situation. “But I really don’t want a kid.” He confesses, “I- I had one and lost one. I know what this world does to them.” He reveals, eyes sad as he looks at you then across the room to preserve your modesty.

“I don’t- I don’t want to have a kid.” You admit quietly. “But I know they will kill us if we don’t.” You reveal. “They found another man a month ago. He couldn’t- they shot him.”

Joel swallows harshly, knowing that there’s no getting out of this. He can’t leave Ellie here. He can’t be killed and leave Ellie alone. She would be killed within hours. Either by these assholes or by someone else. He nods, “then we do what they want.” He says, flexing his fingers still tied together with zip ties.

“I’m sorry.” You apologize breathlessly. “I’m so sorry, I don’t- I never meant for this to happen.” You choke out, even as you walk towards him. “What do I- can I?”

Joel nods, his cock not remotely hard right now but he has to try. You’re a beautiful woman and he knows that if it wasn’t for the outbreak, he would’ve taken a chance to ask you out. “Do what you want. I can’t move.” He chuckles, trying to help you relax despite his heart pounding in his chest.

“I can- let me-“ you reach for his pants, looking up into his eyes. “Lift your hips for me.” You ask softly. This is a mess, but you’re in it together. “I know they cleaned you up- to prevent infection- do you want me to suck your cock to get you hard?” You ask when his cock is flaccid, flopping out of his underwear ungracefully.

He bites his lip as you loom over him and he swallows harshly, “I, uh, you don’t have to do that. Come sit on my lap and then we can, uh, see how it goes.” He says, not wanting you to feel obligated to suck his cock when you’re unwillingly having sex with him.

“Uh, okay.” You bite your lip and put your hand on his shoulder to straddle his lap. You slide onto his lap and try not to press down on him too much. You murmur your name and look into his eyes. “What’s your name? I figure we should at least introduce ourselves.”

“Joel.” He answers, his eyes on yours but they flick down to your breasts. “Shit. You really are gorgeous. I’m sorry you’re in this situation.” He murmurs, feeling guilty for finding you attractive. “What - did you have a boyfriend? Before the outbreak? Or after?”

“A few.” You feel better now. He’s not eyeing you like a piece of meat and he is handsome. “No one for a long time, no point.” You snort. “They either died from the fungus or FEDRA. I was better off alone.”

“You’re not…you’re not a virgin?” He wants to make sure he’s not taking your virginity in the worst possible fucking way.

“No. No. Not since I was seventeen.” You snort and caress his chest, playing with the buttons of his tatty flannel.

“Thank fuck. I, uh, I haven’t been with anyone for a while. She, uh, she got bit. Ended up blowing up a building to save me and the kid.”

“Sounds like a woman I would want to get to know.” You admit, thankful that this man isn’t one that would be looking forward to fucking you like this. It tells you more about him than anything he could tell you. “So it could be quick?” You ask, sliding up and cupping his jaw to lean close. “Hold off as long as you can to try to get the ties loose.” You whisper in his ear.

Joel nods, “I wanna take my time, baby girl.” He says loud enough for anyone listening, “been a long time since I had a woman. Wanna enjoy it.” He says despite his eyes portraying anything but enjoyment. He feels guilty even liking the fact that you’re sitting on his lap

His words are meant for the men outside, but for some reason it makes your cunt clench. “It’s- that’s good.” You admit, a little breathless at the rasp of his voice and his rugged looks. He’s handsome. There are worse men you could be forced to fuck. His teeth are still in good condition and you decide to run a finger down the curve of his jaw, letting the stubble rub against your finger. “Maybe I can cum too?”

Joel sees the desire in your eyes and it relaxes him a little. “Of course.” He murmurs, “tell me what you like.” He says, wanting to drag this out a little longer but his cock twitches against your ass as his eyes daringly dip down to your tits, feeling less ashamed of being attracted to you when he can tell you are attracted to him.

“I like having my tits sucked on.” It’s something he could do with his hands bound, so that’s a plus. “And I’m riding, so I really like to grind down on a cock when I’m doing the work.”

“Good. That’s good.” Joel murmurs and licks his lips. “You want me to, uh, suck on your tits?” He asks, wanting to make sure you’re wet enough for this while his hands continue working on getting out of the zip ties. You nod and shift closer so your breasts are in his face and he turns his head to take your nipple into his mouth.

“Oh god.” You had resigned yourself to being touched. At least it wasn’t by those assholes, but the pressure of his mouth is the perfect combination of harsh and gentle. Pulling and suckling perfectly to make the bud perk up and ache for attention. On their own, your hands move to his hair, surprisingly not greasy or gritty even though you know he had not been bathed completely. Even at the end of the world and traveling, he apparently took care of hygiene. “Fuck, Joel.”

He loves the way your fingers tangle in his hair. It feels like a lifetime since he had a moment to relax and enjoy something instead of running for his life. He groans into your flesh, his cock twitching under you as he starts to harden as he bites down on your nipple once more.

“Ohhhhh.” Your eyes close, imagining this is because you want it. Your cunt clenches again and there’s a rush of heat. Your hips start to slowly grind down on his hardening cock.

“Shit.” He hisses against your breast and he switches over, enjoying the way you grind down onto him. “Shit, sweetheart.” He murmurs, kissing along the swell of your breast as he feels himself getting harder.

He feels thick. A grower. You moan softly when he pulls your other nipple in his mouth. “That feels good.” You admit breathlessly, tugging on his hair and scratching your nails against his scalp.

He grunts, letting himself imagine that this is a different situation and he’s not being forced to knock you up. His fingers dig into his palms as he tries to break the zip ties but fails. He kisses along your chest up to your neck, breathing harshly as he gets harder and harder.

You lower your jaw, noses bumping and your lips brush against each other. “I’m going to kiss you.” You murmur. “Is that okay?”

Joel knows you shouldn’t but he wants it. Want to have some intimacy that you can control when you can’t control the fact that you are having sex with him. He tilts his head so he can press his lips to yours.

As soon as your lips touch, you push your tongue inside his mouth. Wanting to take as much control as you can of the situation. You don’t think he minds. Not the way he’s groaning and his tongue slides against yours. You press close, grinding down on his now completely hard cock.

Your moan into his mouth has him ready for you. His hips jerk up to grind against you, groaning into your mouth when he feels how wet you are. “You ready for me baby?” He asks softly as you pull back for a second.

“Yes.” You could probably be wetter, but he won’t hurt you. You kiss him once more and spit in your hand when you pull back. Reaching between you, you wrap your hand around him and pump. Feeling him twitch in your hand, you clench again as you notch him at your entrance.

He inhales sharply at the feel of your hot flesh starting to engulf him as you start to sink down onto his cock. “Fuck.” He hisses, closing his eyes to control himself. It’s been so long since he felt this kind of embrace. He and Tess always used protection that FEDRA would sell in exchange for credits and he hasn’t been with a woman like this since long before outbreak day. “Take it slow. Don’t hurt yourself.” He says softly, eyes opening to watch your expressions.

He’s thick, long, pushing up into you and you're still not completely engulfing him. “Fuck.” You moan quietly, leaning toward and burying your head into his neck. “So big.”

He smirks, unable to conceal the spark of pride at you being slightly breathless at taking him inside of you. “Take it easy.” He murmurs, turning his head to kiss along your neck as you slowly rock your hips to take him until your thighs are flush against his. “That’s it. Good girl.” He murmurs, “takin’ me so well.”

Despite his reluctance to do this, his dirty talk is in top form and you clench around his length at the way he coos at you. “Fuck, Joel.” You whimper quietly. “Keep talking and I will cum.”

He groans, wanting to make this good for you when you’ve suffered a terrible fate to get to this point. There’s no way he will let you go now that he’s possibly going to get you pregnant. “So tight around me.” He says, wishing he could touch you. His hands wiggle around the zip ties and he kisses your neck again.

Tilting your head so he can have more access to you, you settle down onto him completely. Feeling him deep inside you, you know that if he were in charge and fucking you harshly, he would rearrange your guts. "So big." you whine softly. "Everything's tight to you." You roll your hips slightly and start to pull up off his length, eager to feel him move inside you.

He kisses along your neck, "take what you want, baby. Want you to feel good. Want you to cum for me." He demands against your skin, "want you to fuckin' soak me." He groans as you rock on top of him.

"Jesus." You never had a man who wanted your pleasure for himself. Most were happy that you just let them fuck you, but you have a feeling that if Joel was in control, that he would be making sure that you were cumming on his tongue or fingers. "I will." You pant quietly.

He still tries to untie his hands, desperate to touch you but you keep distracting him by grinding down onto his cock like it's the last thing you'll do. In this new world, it could be. "Wish I could touch you. Wanna - arch your back for me." He demands and you do as he says so he leans forward to wrap his lips around your nipple.

“Oh god, it feels so good.” You whimper, loving how he’s twitching inside you every time you clench around him. It’s nothing short of a miracle, it's not rough and dirty. You’ll take the beauty of the moment and be thankful for it, a rarity in your world now.

Your fingers slide through his hair and he groans into your flesh, loving how you clench around him and he wishes he could break free and show you how could he can be, fuck you harder unto you are screaming his name in pleasure. So loud that those motherfuckers outside hear it all. He licks along the swell of your tit and kisses your sternum. “Feel so good, baby girl.” He murmurs, “so good for me.”

“So big.” You moan quietly, circling your hips and lifting off to push back down on him. “You feel so good. So thick.” It’s like having an itch you didn’t realize you had being scratched. It makes you want more, so you speed up.

He groans as you start to rock on his cock, his fingers flexing as he tries to break the zip ties and he breathes harshly through his nose as you rock a little faster. “Take what you need.” He demands, “rub your clit.”

Moaning, you hang on to Joel while sliding one hand down to obey his order. Loving how he’s trying to prioritize your pleasure in these circumstances. Your fingers swirl around your engorged clit and you whimper in pleasure, walls pulsing around him. “Joel.”

He loves the way you moan and whimper his name. “That’s it baby. Make yourself cum. Use me for what you need and then I’ll fill you up like a good girl.” He promises, knowing that the end result will be the same but he wants you to enjoy this before the chaos starts.

His words go straight through you, making you clench down around him while your fingers rub your clit faster. Feeling your orgasm starting to build as you ride his cock. “I’ll be good.” You pant. “I’ll cum, I want to cum for you. Feels so, fuckkkkkkk-” You squeal when Joel snaps his hips up and it pushes you over the edge. Cunt spasming around his cock and soaking him as you cum harder than you have in years

Joel groans as you soak him, clamping down on his cock in a vice tight than anything he’s felt in so long. He pants as he squeezes his eyes shut, trying to keep himself from cumming too soon but it’s been too long. “Fuck. I’m gonna - I’m gonna- oh shit. You need to pull off if you want to go again.”

You know you should prolong it, if he wants to get out of the ties. Reluctantly, you lift off his cock and slump against his chest, “how much longer before you break them?” You whisper in his ear.

“Gimme a few minutes.” He says roughly, both to calm down and to get the zip ties undone. Those bastards tied them extra fucking tight and Joel can’t break them as easily behind his back. “Wanna make this good for you.” He says a little louder, “make you cum again.”

There’s a harsh banging against the door. “Hurry the fuck up!” One of the men shouts. You snort but Joel just shakes his head.

“You want me to cum? I need time!” He bellows back, smirking slightly at you. It’s kind of sexy how defiant he is and you lean in to kiss his jaw.

Joel hums, turning his head to press his lips against yours as you caress his shoulders. “Wanna put me back in? I’ve calmed down now.” He smirks, “want you to cum again for me.”

“Okay.” You reach down and moan when he twitches in your hand again as you line yourself up. “You’ve got a great cock.” You praise breathless when you start to sink down again.

“Thanks.” He murmurs, knowing that’s not something that he hears every day and he groans when you engulf him again. “You, uh, you have a great pussy. So tight and wet.” He says, a little awkwardly as he doesn’t really do compliments but for you, you deserve it.

“It’s just been awhile.” The fact that you are teasing him in this situation is a miracle, but you’ve had to keep a sense of humor since the outbreak or you would have gone crazy. “Any pussy would feel great.”

Joel wants to roll his eyes but he doesn’t, “you gonna make yourself cum again on my cock?” He asks, wanting to hear those sweet cries of pleasure again. This moment is for you. Fuck those assholes outside. They don’t control this moment. You do.

“Yes.” You pant breathlessly, settling down on him again and clenching down around him. “Gonna cum again on the best dick I’ve ever had. You’re so good, baby.”

“So good.” Joel murmurs, “want you to take what you need.” He says and he leans in to kiss your chest, licking along your collarbone. You almost taste sweet but that could be because you’re clean. It’s hard to maintain hygiene when you’re traveling like he has been.

When he’s saying that, it’s almost easy to believe that this is just for you and him. That there’s not men on the other side of the door that want to use you as a broodmare. You moan and turn your head to whimper his name in his ear.

He groans when you whimper his name, his cock twitching inside of you. “Baby. Baby. You gotta - need you to make yourself cum again. Nearly got the ties off.” He whispers the last part, knowing that he won’t be able to hold off his orgasm much longer.

“Okay, okay, I’m gonna cum.” You promise, reaching between your bodies and rubbing your clit. If he can get the ties off before he cums, he can pull you off his cock. Then you can both work on getting out of here. Hopefully he wasn’t lying when he said he would take you home. Even company on the road would be better than traveling alone.

Joel groans when you start to move and rub your clit. He wishes he could take over and he tugs on the zip ties, wanting to get out of them, and he watches you as you pleasure yourself using his body. “Keep going. Want you to cum for me.”

“Yes, yes.” You are practically galloping on his cock, riding him as fast as your body will move, feet pushing you up from the floor as gravity brings you back down. Making you grunt every time he hits so deep inside of you and pushes you close to the edge.

“That’s it. That’s it, sweetheart.” Joel grunts as you rock on top of him. “Make that sweet pussy gush for me.” He demands, his cock twitching inside of you and he desperately wants to see you cum again.

His words send a shiver down your spine, gasping out when his cock twitches and hits something divine inside you. Throwing you over the edge with a warbled cry of his name as you clamp down around him.

Joel hisses at the way you clamp down on his cock, soaking him again and he clenches his jaw, thrusting up into you as you soak him. “Fuck. Im - im gonna cum.” He pants as he clenches his eyes shut just before he falls over the edge. His cock twitching violently inside of you as he paints your walls and the force of his orgasm has him ripping free of the zip ties.

It shouldn’t feel good. It should horrify you that he just came inside you. But you can’t move, can’t react as your body holds you suspended on his cock as he rocks up into you.

Joel groans as he rides out his orgasm, his hands coming up to grab your back to keep you pressed against him as his lips find yours to smother his groan. “Fuck.” He mutters into your mouth as his cock pulses inside of you.

You pour yourself into the kiss, knowing that you will have to stop soon. He’s free, now you both need to be free. Free of this horrible place.

Joel pulls back from the kiss and looks at you, “I’m gonna keep my hands behind my back when they come in. Want you to go along with what they want until I whistle, okay?” He says, wanting you to know he has a plan to get you out of this.

“Okay.” You nod and pull off his cock with a slight moan so you can pull his pants back up. He can’t fight with his pants down and his cock out.

The door flings open moments later, having realized the moans have stopped, and the men come in. “Done the job?” They ask and Joel keeps his hands behind his back as he nods.

“Yes. All done.” He says, jerking his chin towards you and they drag you off of his lap, making his jaw clench as they kick your legs apart to make sure he came inside of you.

“Look at that creamy mess. She’s gonna make a cute little mama. She’ll be a horny one and I’m sure she will want a cock to sit on.” He chuckles and you wince.

Joel clenches his jaw, “yeah. That ain’t gonna be happening.” He promises, whistling at you and he stands up from the chair, making the man’s eyes widen and he shoves you away just as Joel grabs the chair to swing it around and whack him in the face.

All you can do is watch, eyes wide as Joel goes feral. He’s brutal. Dropping the chair and grabbing the gun from the other man and turning around to pistol whip the other. The man in the ground is groaning and struggling to his hands and knees before you move over and kick him in the stomach for the vulgarity of him.

Joel wasted no time grabbing the gun and he grabs the knife from the other man, slitting his throat before he repeats the action with the other man on the ground. It’s violent and bloody but they won’t scream for help if they are gargling on their blood and no one will be alerted to the fact that he’s free. He shrugs off his jacket hands it to you to put on as he holds the gun up and carefully strides down the hall, “stay behind me.” He demands as he escorts you through the compound, determined to find Ellie.

Wrapping his jacket around your nude body, you follow behind him. Sticking close and wishing you had your shoes at least. They had ordered you to strip and you don’t know what they did with your clothes. “The little girl. She would be at the end of the building.”

Joel nods, gun aimed as he walks down the hall to where Ellie is being held. He hears her before he sees her. “Get the fuck away from me, man. Where’s Joel? I want to talk to him. Now!” She demands and Joel wastes no time shoving the door open.

“How the fuck did you-?” The man holding her shouts and Joel wastes no time shooting him.

“Get your shit, kid. We are leaving.” He demands and Ellie scrambles to get her backpack.

“Who the fuck is she?” Ellie’s eyes widen when she realizes that you are naked underneath Joel’s coat. “You picking up naked women now?” She demands.

You pull the jacket tight around you and tell the girl your name. “He saved me.” That is all you tell her, not willing to divulge what happened between you.

“We don’t have time for this. Come on.” Joel growls as he escorts you and Ellie through the halls. “Where would your clothes be?” He asks, wanting you to have something to wear before you leave this hell hole.

“They might have put them back in my room.” You tell him quietly. “Down the hall to the left and three doors down.”

Joel nods, “stay here. I’ll get them.” He says as he hands the knife to you. “Scream and slash if anyone comes along. I’ll be right back.” He promises as he rubs down the hall, finding the room empty and he grabs the clothes from the side, rushing back down the hall.

“So, uh, are you okay?” Ellie asks as she shifts awkwardly, looking up and down the hall. It’s not like Joel just adopts people, and he doesn’t seem like he’s going to leave you behind.

“I’m- im good.” You murmur quietly.

Ellie nods, knowing that things happen and she isn’t sure she wants to know what happened to you. Joel is tense as he comes back down the hall with your clothes and boots. “Get your boots on.” He demands, knowing the rest can wait. You shove your feet in the boots and Joel nods, “stay close. No one makes a noise.” He demands as he guides you through the compound to find the exit.

It’s silent, making your heart feel like it’s pounding loud enough for everyone to hear. Freedom is so close. To get away from here is everything you’ve wanted since you’ve been brought here. Following behind the girl sandwiched between you and Joel, you figure that she is his daughter from how protective he is over her.

Joel sees the fire exit door, unguarded and the light shining through. He walks faster just as a man comes around the corner. “Fuck.” Joel grunts, raising his gun to kill the guy before he can shout. “They heard that.” Joel says as he grabs the guy’s gun from his holster and he slams the exit door open. “Go. Go. Go. Run!” He demands, shouting at you and Ellie to get out of the building. “Run into the woods.” He orders as he hears the others shouting out behind him.

Following Ellie, you run, not even daring to look back over your shoulder. Joel fires off another few shots and from the shouts, it sounds like he hit them. The brush scratches your thighs and legs as you run through the bitter wind, not bothering to try to keep the jacket closed around your body as you race for freedom.

Joel keeps running, running until all three of you collapse deep in the forest. Footsteps and shouts have faded and he feels that you can take a moment to take a breath. “Are you okay?” Joel asks Ellie breathlessly and she nods, “I’m fine.” He looks at you, walking over to you, “are you okay?”

"I'm free." You pant, closing your eyes and wrapping your arms around your body. "I- thank you." You whisper, opening your eyes again and looking up at him. "I-I'm fine, but I need to- to clean up and get dressed."

Joel nods, “there’s a stream that runs through here that we passed before they caught us.” He says, knowing he wouldn’t mind freshening up too before he has to talk to you about what happened back there. “Let’s go.” He says with a nod, knowing you’ll want to be back in your own clothes.

Pushing off the tree you had been leaning against, you start to follow Joel and Ellie again. It's easier to be behind them so they don't have to see you naked in Joel's coat and so you can continuously look over your shoulder to make sure no one is following you. "Oh thank God." You moan when you hear the water close by and break through the trees to see a small stream. It will be cold, but you need to try to wash Joel's cum out of your cunt.

“Let’s give her some privacy.” Joel says, holstering one gun and holding the other to keep guard as he guides Ellie through the brush to give you some space.

“Why is she naked?” Ellie asks, ever inquisitive. “Long story.” Joel sighs.

“Did she - did you and she-?” Ellie doesn’t finish the question but Joel looks at her with slightly pained eyes, “just leave it.”

Ellie's mouth drops open and she almost speaks again, but the look on Joel's face tells her that he will snap at her if she does. "Ooooookay." She huffs and shakes her head. "I thought sex would put someone in a good mood." She mumbles to herself. Down at the stream, you quickly pull off your boots and plunge into the cold water. Biting your lip to keep from screaming at the temperature, you quickly start washing your body. You don't have soap, but the cold water is better than nothing for washing away the cum between your thighs.

Joel feels the guilt closing in on him. The way he had sex with you and you didn’t want to have sex with him. You were forced and he’s struggling with that. Do you think he forced you? He swallows harshly as his eyes scan the perimeter, his ears on high alert for any noise and he spins when you come through the brush fully clothed. Your hands go up when he aims the gun at you until he lowers it. “Okay. We gotta keep moving.” He says, knowing his own wash can wait.

You shake your head, knowing that he will want to clean up. Get the residue of you off of him. You feel horrible, knowing that you took advantage of this man while he was tied up. It doesn't matter that you were forced to, you were the one who had done it. "I can watch." you offer quietly. "While you clean up. I know it would be better."

“It’s fine. Let’s move.” Joel says, knowing it’s risky to stay here for too long and it’s going to get dark soon. He wants you and Ellie as far away from that place as possible. “Ellie, come on.” He calls out as Ellie lingers behind. “We gotta move.” He says and starts to guide you through the trees.

You don't have anything but the clothes on your back. Handing the jacket back to Joel, you settle for keeping up with him. He walks briskly, obviously wanting to put plenty of distance between your little group and the men who were chasing you. Biting your lip, you wonder what will happen when you stop, if he will want to part ways, or if he will keep his word.

Joel sighs as walks as far as he can before it gets too dark. “We will set up camp here. I’ll take watch. We leave as soon as the sun rises. I want to get to Wyoming as fast as possible before anything else goes to shit.”

You shake your head. “You can’t possibly stay up all night.” You protest and Ellie scoffs.

“Good luck convincing him of that.” She huffs, shaking her head. “It’s downright impressive how stubborn he can be.” You bite your lip and nod, aware that he could just leave you here, so you decide not to argue. Ellie sets up her sleeping bag and there’s not going to be a fire, Joel is uncomfortable starting one since they might still be looking for you.

Joel gives you his sleeping bag, knowing he won’t be using it tonight, and he settles against a tree with his gun in hand, listening to every leaf and branch and rustle in the forest. It doesn’t take Ellie long to pass out but he can tell you’re still awake. “You should get some sleep. It’s been a long day.” He murmurs softly.

You stare at his profile in the dark, wondering if he will talk about what happened or just pretend it didn’t. It seems like he’s going to pretend it didn’t when the silence hangs between you. “Wake me when you get tired.” You finally whisper. “It’s been a long day for you too.”

Joel doesn’t respond with anything other than a nod and he watches you as you curl into his sleeping bag, exhausted by the events of the day. Joel sighs softly under his breath, knowing that you are a gorgeous young woman, someone he would’ve been lucky to have had in his previous life but he’s committed too many sins to ever reap such a reward. He sends a silent prayer up, that you aren’t pregnant. It’s a death wish in this new era.

****

Doubled over, you heave, the little bit of rabbit stew and water you had coming back up. Groaning as your stomach twists and turns, the hand on your back is reassuring, even though you know you can just imagine the concern on Ellie's face. True to your thoughts, Joel had never brought up that day, what had happened between you, and neither had you. You had desperately hoped that you would get your period, that the group's efforts to breed you would have been in vain. However, two months have gone by and now you are experiencing what can only be morning sickness on your trek across to the continent. You've had to backtrack, go south, and chase your tail to get around raging rivers, blown up bridges and bypass large cities where infected might be. Now, it seems like there's going to be a fourth member of your little party.

Joel winces when he hears you retching again. It’s been two months since he was forced to fuck you and he tries to deny the reality of what is happening but he can’t. Every day that passes, you’re in danger and he desperately needs to get you and Ellie to safety and not out in the middle of fucking nowhere.

"It's getting worse." Ellie huffs when you finally stop heaving and wipe your mouth with the back of your hand as you gasp for breath. It's been taking it out of you and you know that you've been slowing them down. You being sick has made you weaker and able to travel less. It wouldn't surprise you if Joel ended up leaving you out here on your own. "Joel! It's getting worse." Ellie barks at Joel where he is scanning the area again. "We need to get her some medicine or something."

Joel bites his lip, “it’s not medicine that she needs, kid.”

Ellie frowns, “then how the fuck is she gonna stop throwing up?” Ellie hisses, eyebrows raised and Joel shakes his head, looking at you, almost pleading with you to say it’s not so but deep down, he knows it’s happening.

"Time." You croak out, finally catching your breath and straightening. "It'll go away eventually. It just takes time." You know that Ellie is smart, she will figure it out, but right now, you don't need her worrying about it.

“So why aren't me and Joel sick?" She demands and you shrug your shoulders. "Just my lucky little virus, I guess."

Ellie scoffs, “I don’t want to be catching that.” Joel swallows harshly and he adjusts the rifle over his shoulder.

“You won’t.” He says, “it’s just her.” He grabs your water bottle and hands it to you, his dark eyes focusing on you.

"Thanks." You murmur quietly while Ellie mutters to herself. Taking a large drink, sighing, and wiping your mouth again. "I'm okay, Ellie." You promise her. "Why don't we keep on? I'm hoping we can find a house to sleep in tonight."

Joel nods, “it’s gonna be dark soon and it’s getting colder. We need a better shelter. Let’s keep going.” He says, knowing that he can focus on this. On survival. He can keep you and Ellie safe. This new development….he doesn’t know how he’s gonna handle it.

It takes you a moment to move once Ellie shuffles away. Aware that Joel’s eyes are still on you, but you don’t talk about it. Instead, you shuffle the small pack he had found for you up on your shoulders as you try not to freak out about being pregnant.

You walk for a couple more hours before you end up finding an abandoned house. It’s nothing fancy but it's a shelter from the cold wind and it’s warm. “Come on, let’s get inside.” Joel says, setting his rifle down as you and Ellie get inside of the cabin. “I’ll go see if I can find a rabbit or something. Get some wood for a fire.” He gestures to the empty fireplace.

“God, a fire.” You moan quietly. “Being warm when I sleep.” It’s been some time since you’ve slept under a roof and you are looking forward to it. Especially because you’re sure it’s going to rain tomorrow. You might be here for a day or so. “Let’s go collect some wood and see if we can find some water.” You tell Ellie as you drop your bag. “Maybe there’s some clothes in the bedrooms we can go through.”

Joel makes his way out into the woods, knife and gun in hand as he listens for any wildlife and his heart is pounding. You’re pregnant. He inhales sharply, suddenly feeling his lungs contract and he feels like he can’t breathe. Bending over, he closes his eyes and his heart is pounding. He failed Sarah. He’s failing Ellie. He’s going to fail you and the baby. He’s going to fail.

“You’re not like, gonna die, right?” Ellie asks as you both haul an armful of wood back to the small cabin. You had told her that the weather might get bad and it could be a good idea to get extra wood. The idea of spending a day or so with walls and roof around you seems positively luxurious, especially in bad weather. “I don’t think so.” You don’t want to tell her right now that you're pregnant, but soon you will have to. It’s horrible, but you wonder if Joel hopes you might lose the small little bean that’s growing in your belly. It’s not like he wanted a baby and this world isn’t made for babies anymore.

Joel inhales deeply, trying to catch his breath and he opens his eyes. It’s hard to think about becoming a father again and he tries to calm down. His heart pounding in his chest and he rubs his chest, trying to stop it. His mouth is dry and he gives himself a moment to gather his composure before he resumes his venture to find dinner.

Once you both have brought a good pile of wood inside, you start to poke around in the kitchen. Hoping that you might find a few cans of food or some sturdy pots to boil water in. You need to stay hydrated more than normal with your morning sickness.

Joel returns to the cabin with two rabbits, his blood pressure returns to normal, and he locks the door once it’s shut behind him. “Got two. Should be plenty for all of us.” Joel says, heading into the kitchen so he can work on skinning the rabbits and getting them on the fire that you and Ellie have prepped.

"There was a well." You announce. "We've hauled in a shit ton of water and the kid is already dreaming about a hot sponge bath." You tell him from the fire. You can't watch him skin the rabbits right now, your stomach would revolt.

Joel works fast to skin the rabbits and prepare them for cooking. He spears them and places them over the fire before he shrugs off his jacket, glancing at you across the room as you pour water into smaller buckets to heat up. “I’m sure everyone could use a clean up.”

“Damn right, you stink.” Ellie huffs, dramatically waving her hand in front of her nose.

You snort at the frown on Joel’s face and shake your head. “It’s hard work crossing the country.” You remind her.

Ellie chuckles, “too fucking right it is.”

Joel huffs, “language.” He reminds her and she rolls her eyes as he turns the rabbits. “Go clean up, kid. Dinner won’t be too long.” He says after the buckets of water are warmed and you help her carry them into the bathroom.

“I found a couple of cans.” You tell Joel. “Stuck them in Ellie’s bag.” The labels were long since peeled, but the cans weren’t swollen, so there is a good chance the food inside is still good. “And there’s some clothes that might fit you.”

Joel nods as he spins the rabbits. “That’s good. This shirt is getting ratty. Too thin with the colder weather coming in on us. How are you…how are you feelin’?” He asks softly, “do you think you’re - that you got-?” He can’t finish the sentence, too terrified to know the answer despite already knowing it deep down.

You sigh softly, knowing the conversation had to come eventually. “There were some larger clothes that I stuffed in my bag when Ellie wasn’t looking. For when I can’t fit these.” You tell him quietly. “I’m sorry. If you want to leave with Ellie in the morning, leave me behind, I’ll understand. You didn’t ask for this.”

Joel shifts away from the fire, coming over to you. “You didn’t ask for this either. Those bastards…they forced you - they forced us. Now, we face the reality of what happened and I- I am not a man to run away from my responsibility. You’ll stay with me and Ellie. You will have this baby and I will use everything in me to protect you all. With my life.” He promises.

“I don’t want you to do that.” You shake your head and frown. “Ellie needs you. She’s important.” Over the course of the last two months, you’ve learned why they are on the road and why he’s so protective over her. “If it comes down to you or me and the baby, you choose yourself.”

Joel scoffs, “you gotta be fucking kidding me, baby?” He says and shifts closer. “I will never choose myself over you and the baby. Never.” He hisses, “I don’t give a fuck about my life. I am here to protect you and Ellie and now this baby. That’s my life. That’s my duty.” He says with conviction.

You don’t agree with him, Ellie is more important than you, but you don’t argue. You can see the set of his jaw, he won’t change his mind. Instead, you look back at the fire. “There’s bad weather moving in,” you tell him quietly. “Ellie and I gathered enough wood to stay if it doesn’t blow through in the night.”

“Then we will see it out. Are you hungry?” He asks, knowing you must be. He is and he isn’t the one growing a child inside of him. God, a baby. His child. His heart twists and he wonders if it’s a boy or a girl. It doesn’t matter either way as long as they are healthy and safe but he is terrified he’s going to fail them.

“I’m starving.” You admit sheepishly. “Getting sick hasn’t been helping but it feels like I’ve not eaten in a week.” Even though you are ravenous, you won’t take more than either one of them. All three of you need to keep up your strength. “Soon enough Ellie will find out too.” You remind him. “What do we tell her? Do you- um, do you want her to think it’s someone else’s baby?”

Joel shakes his head, “she’s not stupid. We will tell her it’s mine and that we were forced into having sex. Ellie is - she’s beyond her years and I know that she won’t judge us. She needs to know if we are to be a unit.” Joel says softly, already deciding to give up some of his portion so he can make sure you have enough food.

You sigh softly, aware that you are a burden to him. He didn’t want another kid and here you are pregnant. “At least we will be warm and cozy tonight.” You change the subject, looking around the cabin. “This place must have been cute twenty years ago.”

Joel looks around and nods, “yeah. I used to build houses with my brother. We had a construction company. Seems like a lifetime ago now.” He sighs, thinking of Tommy. “Do you, uh, what do you want? A girl or a boy?” He asks after a moment.

It takes you a minute to realize he’s asking about the baby. Surprising you again, although you can see Joel being a man who worked with his hands before the outbreak. “I don’t really care if it’s a boy or girl.” You admit, your hand drifting down to your stomach. “As long as they are healthy, right?”

Joel nods, “healthy is all that matters. I, uh, I had a daughter. Before the outbreak. Her name was Sarah. She was shot on the day and I- I - I died that day too.” He admits quietly, staring into the fire.

“Oh god.” Your heart sinks and your eyes start to water. You can’t imagine how he felt losing his daughter. “I’m so sorry, Joel.” You reach out and touch his arm. “Nothing I can say will make it okay, but I’m sorry.”

He doesn’t push you away like he would everyone else. You are connected to him now and you deserve to know who he is, even the ugly dark parts of him he’s hidden away. He takes your hand in his, squeezing it, “thanks. I miss her every second of every day but Ellie…she gave me a new purpose.”

“She’s a special girl, I can see why you’ve grown attached to her.” You murmur. “She’s amazingly resilient. I don’t know if I could have survived all of this when I was her age. I was so innocent.” You snort, amused at how naive you had been at her age.

Joel chuckles, “ain’t we all at that age? It was a different time. We were allowed to be naive. She isn’t.” He sighs after a second and lets go of your hand so he can take the rabbits off of the fire. “Can you go tell the kid dinner is ready? She will soak all night if you let her.”

“I will.” You had found some metal dishes, ones that you can take with you, and cleaned them up. It will be a proper dinner tonight. Making your way to the small bathroom, you knock on the door. “Ellie? Dinner is ready, okay?” She huffs but agrees and you grin at the attitude teenagers give as you go back into the main area.

Joel serves up the rabbit onto the plates, serving you and Ellie more than him and he brings the plates over to the rickety table, setting them down. “Eat.” He orders you when you appear back in the room.

You frown when you see only two plates and shake your head. “Where’s yours?” You demand, not wanting him to go without.

“I’ll get meat off of the bones.” He says, knowing he can get more from the bone than you or Ellie. Ellie doesn’t like chewing from the bone.

You want to argue but you know it will do no good. Joel is determined to make sure that you and Ellie are taken care of and you can’t fight him your entire pregnancy. You resolve to make sure that he has plenty of meat when you are done. “There’s a pot we can make a stew with tomorrow?” You offer, knowing that would stretch the food supply that you find. “It’s not heavy. I can carry it.”

Joel bites his lip, not liking the idea of you carrying anything at all. “Until it’s too heavy. Then I’ll take it.” He commands as Ellie comes out of the hall, dressed in new clothes and her hair wet.

“Fuck yes. I'm starving.” She groans as she sits down at the table and immediately digs into the food.

You eat more slowly, drinking a lot of water since you’ve been sick and chuckling to yourself as Ellie chokes down the food like she’s not eaten in years. “Slow down, you don’t want to make yourself sick.”

Ellie nods, “don’t wanna be like you. Getting sick and shit.”

You chuckle softly and nod, glancing over at Joel. “Fair enough.” You hum and Joel nibbles on the bones, enjoying the flavor of the meat.

“Slow down.” Joel tells Ellie after a second, “don’t need you throwin’ up around here.”

You snort when she rolls her eyes, but starts to slow down. All of you continue to eat in silence and Joel frowns when you push your half eaten plate towards him. “I can’t eat anymore.” You tell him truthfully. The water is sloshing in your belly. “Besides, if I get sick in the morning, it will just be a waste.”

Joel narrows his eyes at you slightly, trying to discern if you are being truthful and he reluctantly takes the plate, picking up the remaining rabbit to eat it. “Try to keep it down. You need to eat and keep your energy up.” He tells you, “and plenty of rest.”

Ellie snorts. “Okay, dad.” She huffs sarcastically. “Jesus, you act like she’s pregnant or something.” You freeze for a split second before you laugh, trying to make that thought disappear.

Joel looks at you before he looks at Ellie and she picks up the look. “Oh shit. She’s - you’re - you’re pregnant?” She chokes and you glance back at Joel.

“She is.” He declares, “we, uh, when those assholes took us a couple of months back…they tied me up and uh, they made us have sex. And from that…she’s pregnant.” Joel explains as simply as he can.

“Assholes!” Ellie huffs, indignant on your behalf and you bite your lip. You hadn’t wanted to tell her at all, but she would have figured it out.

“So now you know why you can’t catch what’s making me sick.”

Ellie nods, surging forward to hug you and you’re surprised but return it. “You didn’t deserve that. Neither of you did but I’m excited for a baby. Wonder if it’s gonna look like you or Joel. Hopefully you.” She says, “are you guys together?” She asks and you shake your head.

Joel bites his lip, “we, uh, we didn’t - it was once to save our lives and I’m gonna be here for you and her and the baby. No matter what.”

He couldn’t look more awkward if he tried and all the dreams you have been having about Joel while sleeping just fizzle away. Reminding you that he hadn’t wanted you, it was just circumstance that had caused this, and a fucked up circumstance at that. “It’s better that we aren’t.” You tell her lightly, reaching out and tugging on her hair. “You don’t have to watch us kiss or hear us late at night.”

Ellie wrinkles her nose, “I can’t even imagine you kissing anyone.”

You snort and Joel rolls his eyes, “finish your food.” He orders, picking up his canteen and gulping down some water. He can’t let you know that he thinks about that time with you every night. He thinks about how you felt, how you smelt, how he wants to touch you again. In the past two months, he’s gotten to know more about you and it’s hard to deny that he likes you.

When the rabbits are gone, you collect the plates and wash everything in the five gallon bucket of water you had kept aside for that and bite your lip. “We still have enough water for both of us to wash.” You offer Joel. “Do you want to go first?”

Joel shakes his head, "you go first. Take your time and relax." He insists, "Ellie, it's time for bed." He says, "I'm gonna do a scan of the area before I lock us in." He says, grabbing his rifle.

“Awww man, I’m gonna get to sleep on a mattress.” She huffs happily, pulling her sleeping bag out of her bag and setting it down on the old bedding you had dragged out into the main room. Figuring it would be better to sleep next to the fire than in the bedroom.

Joel smiles to himself as he exits the cabin, his ears on high alert for any intruders as the smoke from the chimney billows into the night sky. He clutches the gun as he walks around the perimeter, wanting to make sure you and Ellie are safe before he retreats back into the cabin. He’s glad Ellie knows. He’s gonna need all the help he can get on this trek to find Tommy. Time is of the essence.

In the bathroom, you strip down with a sigh and crawl into the tub. Groaning quietly as you slip into the cool water, it’s still warmer than you’re used to and that is a pleasure. You want to enjoy this and spend a little time relaxing while you can.

Joel settles in to first watch as you come out of the bathroom dressed in new clothes. “Get some sleep, sweetheart. Who knows when the next time we get to sleep in somewhere like this.” You nod, shifting to lay down on the mattress inside of your sleeping bag.

****

Joel wipes his face, the wind whipping in his face and he glances back at you and Ellie behind him. The snow is falling and you are struggling. Your bump is round and pushing against your coat and every damn minute has Joel close to a heart attack when you stumble or get tired. He’s failed you. It’s taken too long to get you to Wyoming and he knows deep down you hate him for dragging you across the fucking country.

You pant quietly, aware that Joel has to keep slowing down for you. It’s been miserable and it seems like your luck never seems to get better. You stumble slightly, Ellie reaching out to steady you in the deepening snow. “We need to stop!” She shouts ahead to Joel but you shake your head.

“No! Keep going. I’m fine.” Your back is aching and pinging with pain, but you know that you need to go farther to find shelter for the night.

Joel turns back to look at you, seeing the way your brow is pinched. “We gotta keep going. Find shelter. We can’t be out in this.” He shouts and keeps his rifle pointed just in case someone sneaks up on you. His eyes constantly scan the horizon for any sign of a shelter. The darkness draws in until he finally calls it, finding a cave near the river to shelter in. “Come here, sweetheart.” He says, helping you sit down on your sleeping bag. “You need water?” He asks as he gets your flask.

“Please.” You reach for the water, panting slightly. It’s been hard today, your body aching more than normal and the baby has been kicking like crazy. Joel’s been amazing through this all, although you know he’s getting frustrated with how long this is taking. Having a pregnant woman slowing him down wasn’t something he had anticipated.

He hands the bottle to you, shifting to kneel down and his hand rests on your stomach, feeling the kicks. “Christ. They are active. Your back must be aching. Lay down. Ellie - let’s get some wood for a fire and then I’ll find us some food.” Joel says, knowing he needs to find extra. You need your strength and he’s been trying to go without so you have more for the time comes for you to give birth. He’s terrified. Fucking terrified of that moment and it’s any day now.

“I-I’m fine.” You insist even though you are exhausted. “Just need to rest.” You want nothing more than for Joel to pull you into his arms and maybe rub your back, but your stomach is pretty much all he will touch. “Don’t go on my account.”

He wants to laugh and say it’s the least he can do but he can’t. He sighs and stands up, glancing at Ellie who nods. “Watch her and I’ll be back. Don’t go too far.” He orders as he grabs his rifle and ventures into the darkness to find your dinner.

“Are you okay?” Ellie asks quietly, her serious face as she watches you closely. “I’m good.” You promise. “Just tired and fat.”

Ellie shakes her head, “you aren’t fat. You’re growing a fucking baby. That’s insane. It’s crazy that a baby is gonna come out of your vagina. I do not fucking envy that.” Ellie shivers in disgust.

You let out a small laugh, secretly having the same thought. You’ve tried hard to hide the fact that you’re terrified from her. It won’t do any good to have her upset about something that you can’t change. “We need to start a fire.” You groan. “Give me a minute and I’ll help you find some wood.”

Ellie nods as you stand up, groaning out as you struggle with the surge of pain. Ellie helps you up, holding onto your arms. Meanwhile, Joel is hunting, his ears pricked up to hear any rustling. His heart is pounding and he knows it's the anxiety again. He is terrified of you having the baby. He's already failed you. He hasn't found Tommy and you're in the middle of nowhere. He's already failed his child and he feels sick about it.

You constantly ache now, every fiber of your being protesting in pain. Although you know that it’s just because you’re pregnant, you also fear that you might be going into labor. You can’t tell Joel or Ellie that, they will freak out. The pain passes and you sigh, thinking that it’s not so bad right now.

Joel returns with a few rabbits, the fire started by Ellie and he works fast to skin and gut the rabbits before he sets them on the fire to cook. “You doin’ okay, sweetheart?” He asks you, seeing the sweat on your forehead. “You sick?”

“Hot flash.” You lie with a grin. “Don’t know how, but your kid is making me boil in the middle of winter.” You laugh. “Good thing I’m not pregnant during the summer, I would have never survived without air conditioning.”

Joel nods, handing you some water. He refilled the flasks down at the river. His stomach twists with the words “your kid” and the reality hits him again. “Christ. It’s too fucking dead out here. There’s nothing. Not even a cabin. You’re about to pop and I- I have failed you.” He whispers when Ellie goes to set up her sleeping bag.

“You haven’t failed me.” You scoff, shaking your head at him. “You got me away from that place, you’ve protected me. Kept me fed and safe.” You haven’t failed me.” It’s sobering to realize that he’s upset about things you can’t change.

Joel swallows harshly and shakes his head, “I gotta get you somewhere safe before you give birth. We have nothing for a baby.” He says, glancing back at the fire. “We need to make sure we can get more clothes to make diapers or something.”

“I’ve been saving our clothes as they wear out.” You admit. “My bag is full of them. I just need to cut them up into diapers.”

Joel realizes how much more prepared you are both physically and mentally for this baby than he is. He didn’t even think of that. He nods and reaches for your hand, “great idea. This - it will be fine.” He says more to himself than to you.

You hold onto his hand for a moment, knowing that it’s the closest you will get to him again. “It will be fine.” You echo. “Women have been having kids for thousands of years.”

Joel nods, knowing it's true but he needs to make sure you're safe and in an environment where your child can be born safe and without fear. He swallows down some water and he gets the rabbits on the fire.

He’s watching you closely, so every time you grunt in pain, he looks over. “Baby’s active.” You explain and he nods. The baby has been kicking more, so it is plausible. Maybe this is just those fake labor pains you used to hear about when you talked about this kind of thing. It seems like a million years ago. “Do you- uh, you do have any names you’d want?” You ask curiously.

Joel licks his dry lips, knowing that he hadn’t really thought about a name. Thinking about names makes it all real and he’s struggled enough with the reality of becoming a father again. “I haven’t really thought about it.” He confesses, “haven’t really had time. Do you have any names?” He asks, wondering what you have pondered. This is your first child and he knows that you must’ve thought about names.

“I - it’s so hard to think about.” You admit quietly. “All the names I’ve thought about have memories attached and it’s a lot more than being able to name them. I don’t even know if it’s a boy or a girl.” You bite your lip. “What- did Sarah have a middle name? Do you?”

Joel bites his lip, “Sarah’s middle name was Alexandra because my middle name is Alexander. So…Alex.” He says, “could work for both.” He snorts with a soft smile as he remembers the day he and his ex decided on Sarah’s name after she was born.

“Alex.” You smile softly at the name and think that it’s perfect. “Would it be….too painful if I named the baby that?” You don’t want to hurt him, reminding him of the child he lost. Nor do you want him to think you are trying to replace Sarah, just….honor her a little.

Joel reaches for your hand, “not at all. I think it’s perfect.” He promises, his heart aching at the thought of his baby girl but she’s gone and this baby is coming. He can love Sarah with his entire being and still be a father to this new baby. “Are you feeling okay?” He asks when he feels you squeeze his hand.

“I’m okay.” You promise, nodding quickly. “Just-“ you grunt slightly. “Hard to find a comfortable way to sit, or lay, or exist right now.” You joke, hoping he accepts that answer. “If it wasn’t freezing, I’d probably be looking for the nearest body of water to float in to feel like less of a cow.”

“You ain’t a cow. You are…you are beautiful.” Joel murmurs, letting go of your hand so you can find a comfortable position. “I know this baby isn’t coming into the world that we knew and it’s…it scares me to death to think about all the things that could happen to them but you gotta know, I’ll protect you, Ellie, and this baby until my dying breath.”

“Can you please stop talking about dying?” You ask softly, not wanting to let Ellie overhear. “That scares me. So much.” You blow out a breath. “I- you protect us so much better than I can, I can’t- not having you here-“ you choke up, eyes filling with tears. “I’m sorry…” you whimper. “Hormones.” Wiping your eyes, you try to compose yourself. “I don’t want to think about any of our dying breaths right now.”

Joel nods, reaching up to gently wipe your tear away, his hand cupping your cheek as his dark eyes meet yours. “It’s okay, sweetheart. I’ll fight tooth and nail to stay with you and the kids as long as possible.” He assures you, his hand still on your cheek.

There’s a moment where you think that he’s being tender. That there’s a hint of affection for you, before his eyes shift again. His walls go back up. You don’t sigh, but you want to. Instead, you nod against his hand, nuzzling into it slightly. “Thank you.” You murmur quietly

He drops his hand from your cheek and glances over as Ellie settles on her sleeping bag while the rabbit cooks. “It’s okay. We will figure it all out.” He promises and turns his attention back to the rabbit cooking over the fire.

Your own comfort is now down to zero as you shift, trying to find the best way to lay and ease the tension in your back. At least there is a rock outcrop to lean against and you sigh when you have to pee again. “Ellie, help me up.” You ask softly. “I have to pee.”

Ellie nods, shifting off of her sleeping bag to help you up. “Geez, I am glad I don’t like boys.” She murmurs and you chuckle, “pregnancy sucks.” You tell her and she snorts, “I can tell.” Joel cuts up the rabbits, placing it in the tins you have been carrying to use as bowls.

Waddling off for a little privacy, you groan quietly and clutch your stomach. You do need to pee, but you needed a second away from their concern more. “Fuck”. You whimper. “Just- just let me get through the night.” You tell yourself and any other higher power that might be listening. “We need tonight.”

The next morning, Joel can see how weary you are, the redness in your eyes from lack of sleep and he’s worried. Every day could be the day the baby comes and he needs to get you somewhere safe. “You doing okay?” He asks, wanting to make sure you’re okay when he can see how you’re struggling.

“Didn’t sleep.” You don’t mention that Joel had passed out and both you and Ellie had let him sleep. He’s constantly exhausted and it’s starting to wear him down. “I’ll be okay.” You murmur. “We need to move.”

Joel nods, knowing you need to rest but he also needs to get you somewhere safe. When you come across the cabin, Joel is excited to find shelter until the woman tries to shoot him and misses. He wrangles her and ties her up, managing to get out of her that her husband is coming home soon.

Once the woman realizes that you are pregnant, she makes you and Ellie some soup. Making you sit down in a comfortable chair that has you moaning in pleasure. “She will give birth soon.” She predicts as she sits down in the chair opposite you, ignoring Joel and the gun. “Her spirit is strong.”

Joel clenches his jaw, on edge in case it's more than just her husband who is returning. When the man comes back, his own gun is raised and he reprimands his wife for letting Joel in until he sees you, sitting pregnant in his favorite chair. "She needs a safe place to give birth." He says, knowing that won't be his cabin. It's bad enough to have Joel and the women in his home for this amount of time.

“I'm fine.” You hiss, right as a pain strikes so it just makes you look angry. “Tell him what he wants to know and we will leave.”

Joel clenches his jaw and adjusts his gun. “Don’t go south of the river. It’s only dead there.” The old man tells Joel who glances at you for a second. “Get your stuff. We are leaving.” Joel says with a set jaw.

You bite your lip, struggling out of the chair and you sigh in relief. The pressure isn’t nearly as bad since you’ve eaten and rested, it has to be those false labor pains everyone always talks about. “Thank you.” You murmur to the old woman. “Take care of your baby.” She warns you.

Joel sighs as he escorts you and Ellie back into the wilderness. The snow is deep and the wind is freezing. “You warm enough?” He asks you when you shake, worried that’s it’s too cold for you to continue and you can’t just sit down and have a baby in the middle of fucking nowhere.

“I’m okay.” It’s like your motto now, you utter it so often, but you have to be. You can’t stay at that cabin to give birth, but you need to find somewhere safe. His hand hovers over your back and you nearly stumble in the snow.

Joel glances around, eyes narrowed to shield against the storm. “Come on baby. Let’s get movin’” He says as he escorts you along the riverbank. “We going across?” Ellie asks and Joel nods, leading the way across to the “dead” side of the river.

The bridge almost looks forbidden, but the three of you walk across it, the icy water rushing underneath. “Looks like a dam.” You grunt out, biting your lip when another pain, sharp this time, shoots across your belly.

Joel can tell something is wrong but before he can even ask you, you’re suddenly surrounded. Horses approach and he shoves you and Ellie behind him, his heart pounding in his chest as he grips his gun, outnumbered with each passing second, he’s terrified.

The men, the horses, all of it makes you clutch your stomach. Pulling Ellie behind you, to protect her while you try not to double over when another pain crashes through you.

When the dog appears, Joel freezes. When he’s told it detects the virus, he’s terrified that the dog is going to rip Ellie apart. Or attack you for some reason. His heart pounds, puffing out clouds as his breathing quickens and he feels like he’s gonna be sick as he holds his hands up. “Please.” He mouths like it’s going to make a difference and all he can do is brace himself.

You tense when the dog rushes towards you. Barking and snapping, for a second you think it’s going to bite your stomach. Until he whines and sits. Ellie’s hand in front of you and you can’t believe the girl was going to risk getting attacked for you. Watching in amazement as the dog starts to lick her. Until another pain has you doubling over and screaming in pain.

Joel spins, uncaring of the guns on him until he’s ordered to stand still. “Please. She’s pregnant. We are trying to get shelter and I’m trying to find my brother.” He says, voice shaking a little as his fists clench when he can’t do shit but stand there.

“Joel!” You gasp and the woman on the horse looks at him, “Joel?” She asks, recognizing the name. She glances at her fellow riders and nods, making Joel frown as the guns lower slightly so he rushes over to you.

“Sweetheart. What - oh shit.” He gasps as he sees your jeans go darker.

You whimper, feeling colder now that your water has broken and soaked your clothes. “I’m sorry, I tried-“ you grab onto his arm. “I tried to hold off.” You start to cry, knowing that you are in labor and these people are probably going to kill you all because of you.

Joel’s eyes are wide as he looks at the woman on the horse whose mouth is hanging open. “Get her inside. Now.” She orders and Joel guides you over to the horse.

“This is gonna hurt, baby.” He warns you as he helps you up, your cry echoing in the clearing as you grunt in pain but soon you are on and Joel swings on behind you, Ellie getting on another horse. The group escorts you through the gates and Joel’s eyes widen at the sight of something he hasn’t seen in a long time: a community.

You are barely able to hold into the saddle horn, panting as you can finally breathe now that the pain has passed. Unable to even pay attention to the commotion around you as you come to terms with the fact that you are having this baby now. “Holy fuck-“ Joel hisses and pulls the horse to a stop. “Tommy!” Your head jerks up at the name of his brother. Could he be here? Joel shifts off the mount, nearly falling down as he stares at a man on a scaffolding. “Tommy!”

Tommy’s eyes widen as he climbs down the scaffolding. “Joel!” He shouts back, both men rushing towards each other before they embrace, Joel pulling back to look at the brother he’s been searching for for so long. Your cry of pain drags them away from their reunion and Joel pats his brother on the back. “She’s having a baby. She needs medical attention. Now.” Joel demands and Tommy looks at Maria who nods.

Hands, so many hands, gently pull you off the horse. Although it’s Joel who practically drags you off your feet as they lead the way. Through some buildings and into a room that looks like a doctor’s office. “Jo-Joooooeeeeelllllllll!” You clench your teeth together as another pain rips through you.

“I’m here.” He promises, holding you tight as he gets escorted into a room with a bed and a set up like pre-outbreak days. He would be impressed if he wasn’t fucking terrified. “It’s gonna be okay, sweetheart.” He promises, helping the women take off your coat and the wet clothes. He turns his head when you’re naked. Not because he doesn’t want to see you but he hasn’t since the day he got you pregnant and you deserve your modesty. A hospital gown is put on you and you are helped onto the bed.

“Let’s see what’s going on here.” An older woman, who was a midwife in the previous world, introduces herself and that’s when Joel crumbles. He can’t stand there. He’s failed you. He’s already failed this baby. He stumbles out of the room, blindly walking until Tommy finds him.

When Joel walks out the door, your entire body sags and you start to cry. Unable to call out for him, unwilling to force him to be here with you. Circumstance had made him put up with you, but now he’s fulfilled his part of your deal. He’s gotten you somewhere safe. “It’s okay, dear.” The kind midwife pats your leg and tries to soothe you. “I need to see how far you’ve progressed. How long have you been in labor?” Her question makes you focus and you shake your head. “I thought it was fake pains.” You gasp. “Two- two days ago I started cramping.”

Tommy pours Joel a glass of whiskey and he stares at his younger brother. Months. Fucking months he’s been traveling trying to find him. He’s put his life on the line. He’s got Ellie and you now. Your lives on the line and the baby. Shit, his baby. Meanwhile, Tommy has been shacked up in a nice community with running water and electricity without a single word to his older brother that he's alive. “Looks like you’ve got things good here.” He says after he takes a sip, needing to calm his nerves when your face keeps flashing in his mind.

“Yeah. I, uh, got married. Maria. She’s my wife.” Tommy says and Joel congratulates him through gritted teeth.

“I gotta go to Colorado. Take the kid. She, uh, she needs to go there.” He half explains and Tommy shakes his head.

“I can’t do that. I’m going to be a dad.” He reveals and Joel almost chokes on his beer.

“So am I.” He murmurs and Tommy’s eyes widen.

“The pregnant - your baby?” He asks and Joel nods. “What the fuck are you doing here then? You should be with her.” Tommy growls and Joel shakes his head, his hand shaking as he sets the beer down.

“I’ve already failed her. The baby. All of them. I can’t - what if - Sarah.” He gasps, feeling the anxiety threatening to overwhelm him again. Tommy comes around the counter to touch his brother’s shoulder.

“You won’t fail them. You’ve kept them alive. Now go. You need to be there to see your child born.” Tommy insists, “come on, I’ll take you.”

You're nearly fully dilated. The midwife said it won’t be too much longer before you are pushing your baby out. She’s given you an IV, but she doesn’t have any drugs to give you. Your eyes squeeze shut as another pain consumes you, making you cry out Joel’s name since you felt safest with him. Even though he’s not here. He’s left you. He doesn’t want to be here when his child is born.

Joel rushes in when one of the women standing outside of your room tells him you’re about to push. “I’m sorry. I’m here. I’m here, baby.” Joel promises as he comes over to stand next to the bed, pushing your sweaty hair out of your face and offering you his hand to squeeze as tight as you need when you push. “I’m sorry I left. Fuck, I’m sorry baby.”

Even as you are grabbing onto him, you’re shaking your head. “No, no, no, you don’t want this.” You whine in pain. “You don’t- just goooooo.” You gasp out and clutch his hand even harder. “I’m- I know you don’t want- Sarah-“

Joel feels the guilt settle over him like fog, heavy and he can admit, self induced. “No. No. I - I won’t go. I’ve been terrified of becoming a father again. Of failing again. Of failing you. The baby. Just like a failed Sarah and - shit - baby, I can’t lose anyone else.” He chokes, squeezing your hand like it’s his lifeline.

You are panting by the time the pain passes, slumping back against the bed and letting out a small sob. “I won’t-“ you don’t finish the sentence because you know childbirth is dangerous. Anything could happen. “I love you.” You whimper before the next pain starts and the midwife tells you to start pushing. Unable to look at Joel to see his reaction as you grit your teeth and bear down.

He doesn’t respond, knowing it could’ve been the emotions of the moment and he’s never been a man to just blurt out how he feels without considering his words and the circumstances. Words like love are thrown around too much, even nowadays, and he doesn’t want you to say something and regret it. “That’s it, sweetheart. Doing so good. Just breathe.” He says, trying to coach you and reassure you like he did his wife when Sarah was born.

There isn’t time for you to focus on Joel’s non response to your confession. Focusing on your need to push and the orders the midwife is giving you while Joel steadies you is comforting. Closing your eyes when you have a moment to breathe before you are tending to push again.

His heart pounds in his chest, his eyes darting from your face to the midwife between your legs. “Doing good, baby.” Joel promises despite not having a clue how far along you are. Your nails dig into his palm and he swallows down the hiss of pain, knowing it’s nothing compared to the pain you’re going through right now.

“The head is almost out.” The midwife looks up. “The next push will be for the shoulders and I need you to push hard.” She orders, making you nod and regrip Joel’s hand. “Okay, push!” Your grunt turns into a scream as you bear down, feeling the blood rushing through your veins and your lungs start to scream for oxygen.

“You got this. You’re doing so good.” Joel promises, letting you squeeze the shit out of his hand. He is terrified for the baby to be born. Shit scared there’s something wrong with them. “You got this baby. Nearly there.” He murmurs, unable to stop himself from leaning in to kiss your forehead.

One more push and the pressure instantly goes away. A choked cry filling the room, getting louder as it squawks and you are looking down as the midwife comes up with your child in her arms. “Congratulations mama, it’s a boy.” She tells you, depositing the still slick child onto your chest.

Joel lets go of your hand, a choke escaping his lips as he stares at the baby now crying out in protest of being pushed into the world, and tears sting in his eyes. His hand raises to touch the baby but he stops, unsure of what you want and the midwife grabs some surgical scissors, asking if he wants to cut the cord. It feels surreal. Like it’s a dream he’s about to wake up from. His hand shakes as he cuts the cord and he stands by you, unsure of how you want him to proceed.

Looking down at your son, your hands shake as you hold him. Unable to believe this is real. “A- a boy.” You choke out, looking up to see Joel looking at you with longing in his eyes. He’s not hiding it right now. “Take him.” You order softly, moving to pull him off your chest. “Hold your son, Joel.”

Joel doesn’t hesitate, slowly reaching out to take the baby into his arms. He’s tiny and so perfect. Ten fingers and ten toes. His eyes like yours. His nose is like Joel’s. He’s perfect and Joel can’t stop the tears that suddenly stream down his cheeks. “Hey little man.” He murmurs, staring at the baby in awe. His son. “Hi Alex.” He whispers, leaning forward to press a kiss to his forehead.

You smile, exhausted and still cramping as the midwife continues to work on you, but you can’t take your eyes off the scene. The big, burly, gruff man is so fucking gentle as he holds his son. Starting to gently sway, rocking him as he holds the minute old child. “Alexander Joel Miller.” You venture softly, wondering how he would feel about the complete name.

Joel looks over at you, his eyes widening slightly as you name your child with a version of his own name. It’s perfect and he knows at that moment that there’s no use denying how he feels, at least to himself. “It’s perfect.” He murmurs, carrying the baby back over to you to place him in your arms, stroking his head as he settles against your chest to try and root at your breast. “Did you mean it?” He asks you softly as his eyes flick from the baby to you.

You keep your eyes on your son, not wanting to see the rejection in Joel’s. “I don’t expect anything from you.” You promise him quietly. “You didn’t ask for this, for me and Alex.” It’s crazy that you’ve fallen for him, but you have. His dedication to protecting you and the baby, Ellie, has made you fall in love with him. “Just- just don’t reject Alex, please. You don’t have to love me, or even be around me.”

Joel leans closer to you, “it’s hard to not love you when it’s already happened.” He murmurs, “I- I’m not good with words or - or emotions, but sweetheart, you gotta know that there’s nothing on this earth that I’ve ever felt like this before.” He confesses softly. It’s true. Even his ex wife didn’t make his heart pound like you do. “I’ve wanted you for months but I thought you didn’t want me after we were forced to- you know. I didn’t want to make things awkward between us when I had to protect you and Ellie and if you didn’t feel the same. I’m not good at this but for you, I want to try. I want you and our family.”

Your lip trembles and you close your eyes in relief that he feels the same way you do. “I don’t- I don’t want to trap you.” You explain. “I know that we were forced to have Alex, but I enjoyed it. I felt so guilty for enjoying that, for getting pregnant. But I don’t regret this little joy.” You look down at the way your son is still hungrily trying to suckle, grunting at your breast. “He’s a symbol of hope. That there is something to live for, fight for.”

Joel nods in agreement, “he’s our hope. You didn’t trap me. You were forced just as much as I was and I- shit - I feel so guilty thinking of that time together as much as I do.” He admits quietly, “I can’t regret that day when it brought me you and Alex. I love you, baby. I- I know I’m an asshole who can’t handle emotions most of the time so don’t expect me to say it all the time to you but I want you to know that’s how I feel.”

“I don’t care that you say it.” You shake your head, smiling at him when you look back up at the man who has saved you. “You show it. You show Ellie by letting her be herself and keeping her safe. You show me by protecting me and looking out for me and Alex.” You brush your hand over your son’s head, aware that he will still have to be cleaned up, but he’s only minutes old. “You will show your son you love him by teaching him how to survive this world, to protect those he loves.”

Joel nods, wanting to believe you and he tries despite his demons whispering in his ear about how he is going to fail. He swallows harshly as he leans in to kiss your forehead and he nudges his nose against yours, "can I kiss you?" He asks softly and you nod. He leans in closer to brush his lips against yours, soft and sweet.

You sigh into the kiss, loving how tender it is. Reaching up, you cup his cheek and caress it until the midwife slowly tries to take the baby to clean him up.

Joel pulls back, a slight blush on his cheeks when the midwife winks at him and he watches as she carries the baby over to clean him up and weigh him. “You did so good.” Joel murmurs, kissing your forehead, “you’re so fucking brave.”

“I didn’t have much of a choice.” You admit ruefully. “It was pretty much be brave or give birth in the middle of nowhere.” You chuckle. “I almost did that anyway.”

“Thank fuck you didnt.” Joel murmurs, reaching up to brush your sweaty hair back out of your face as the midwife wraps your son in a blanket. It’s surreal. Like yesteryear but it’s real life. It doesn’t feel real to Joel to be in a town with this capacity. He’s going to have to leave though to take Ellie on the rest of her journey.

****

Ellie has already bid goodbye to you and Alex and now it’s Joel’s turn. The urge to simply stay where he is. To not go and finish his duty to Ellie is tempting but he is a man of his word and you’re safe here. “I, uh, I’m gonna come back.” He promises softly, reaching down to stroke the baby’s head as you cradle him.

“You better.” You hate that you can’t go with them, but it’s not feasible. You have a two day old child. The best thing you can do is stay right here, where he knows you will be safe. Tommy has already promised to look after you. Looking up, you bite your lip. “I love you, Joel.” You whisper softly. “Be safe.”

His eyes meet yours and he nods, leaning in to press a soft kiss to your lips, conveying the words without saying them out loud. You know how he feels. You’re safe here and that’s what matters to him. “Be good, baby.” He says as he straddles the horse and Ellie shuffles on behind him, clinging to his jacket. Ellie offers you a small wave as Joel nudges the horse to move and he doesn’t look back. He can’t look back at what he’s leaving behind.

****

It’s been nearly two months since Joel left. Him and Ellie. Every day you walk to the gates and ask if he’s been spotted, or if there’s been any word. There’s been nothing, but still you continue to hold out hope. Carrying Alex in a little sling around your body, you’ve made friends with the community and slowly turned the house they had let you stay in, into a home for you and your little family when you’re reunited. You have to have hope, you’ll go crazy with worry if you don’t.

Joel lies to Ellie about her rescue. It kills him to lie to her but he has to to protect her. “Come on, let's go home.” He says and the duo are quiet as they make their way back to Jackson, down the mountain and when he enters the gate, he is suddenly exhausted. It’s like the pressure and adrenaline are gone and he’s home. His heart thumps when he stumbles into the town and sees you standing there, his eyes widening as they meet yours.

“Joel?” Your eyes nearly bug out of your head when you see the man you have been thinking about for two months. “Joel!” Holding the baby against your chest as you rush towards him. He looks worn, tired and sad in a way you can’t describe, but he’s here. Ellie right behind him. “You’re back!”

Joel wraps his arms around you, the baby between you, and he doesn't hesitate to press his lips to yours. Relieved to be home and find you and Alex safe and sound. His body relaxes, knowing he doesn't have to fight to survive right now at this moment.

You’re surprised by his kiss, figuring that he wouldn’t be the type for public displays. You don’t mind it though, kissing him back fiercely before you break away and look over his shoulder at Ellie. “Good to see both of you.”

He reluctantly steps back so you can hug Ellie. Tommy comes over to slap his back, knowing his brother well enough to know he just needs rest now. "Come on, let's get you all home." He says, walking with you all to get you back to the house you have made a home in their absence.

“I’ve gotten most of the house clean.” You tell them as you walk towards the house. “Ellie….I didn’t know if you were coming back, but I hoped you would. There’s clothes in the closet, clean. And I put some of the books closer to your age on the shelves.”

Ellie smiles at you, half hearted as she tries to reconcile what happened to her but she needs a shower and an actual bed. Joel is quiet as you walk to the house and all he wants is to hold his son, to have a moment where nothing else exists for him except his son. When he enters the house, his shoulders relax properly, sensing this is a home. You’ve made it so comfortable and he loves it, instantly at ease. “I’m gonna go shower.” Ellie says and you nod, “go shower. I’ll make some food.” You say as you work on untying Alex from your body and Ellie heads upstairs to leave you and Joel to your moment.

“I know you have to be tired, but do you want to hold him?” You ask quietly. If he doesn’t, you’ll put Alex in his little swing that hangs in the doorway between the kitchen and the dining room. Joel nods and you transfer the baby to him with a soft coo to Alex who is about to laugh or cry.

Joel looks down at the baby. He’s already changed so much in the two months he’s been gone and he hates how much he’s already missed. “Hey buddy. It’s daddy. Sorry I haven’t been around but I’m back.” He promises, leaning in to kiss his son’s forehead.

You can’t help but watch the interaction for a moment, nearly about to cry from hoping and praying it would happen one day. Alex stares up at his father curiously and you smile at the scene, wishing you had a camera. The shower upstairs turns on and you remember that you need to make them something to eat. They have to be starving.

Joel cradles his son, just staring at him, and he realizes that his prior death wish, his blasé attitude to living or dying is over. He has a purpose now. Ellie and Alex. His kids are his purpose in life and he will do whatever it takes to keep them safe.

In the kitchen, you start pulling out pans to cook. The eggs you had received this morning will be perfect and there’s still a little bit of the smoked pork. You wonder how long it’s been since Joel has eaten an omelet, you open the refrigerator to pull out the fresh mozzarella you had helped make just the other day.

Joel leans down to kiss Alex’s forehead. “You been a good boy for your mama?” He asks, feeling terrible for having left you alone for so long to look after a newborn. He remembers when Sarah was this age. He was exhausted. Her mother couldn’t bond so it was all on him to make sure the baby was fed, clean, and loved. “Your mama is incredible. She grew you while trekking across the country. In the cold weather. With no shelter. She’s amazing and we are so lucky to have her.”

You hear everything that he says, but you don’t comment on it. Aware that even if you protest, he won’t change his mind. Instead, you set out the ingredients for your meals and start whipping everything together. Alex will want to eat soon, so you want to get this done before he is demanding his own meal.

Ellie comes downstairs about ten minutes later to find Joel cradling the baby. “Can I hold him?” She asks and Joel nods, gently transferring the baby into her arms and she grins, “he’s got your nose.” She says to Joel who snorts and nods, “poor bastard.” Ellie coos, gently rocking the baby as Joel walks into the kitchen to see how things are going with the food. “You need any help?”

“No, I’m good.” You promise, looking over at him and smiling. “If you want to take a shower, the one in the master bedroom feels great.”

"I'll wait until after we eat. Ellie is desperate for food...and so am I." He confesses, stepping closer to gently hold your waist. "I thought of you every damn second I was gone."

“We walked every day to check to see if they had heard anything about you.” You murmur. “We missed you. I missed you.”

He rests his forehead on your shoulder, breathing you in, reassuring himself that you’re safe. “Missed you too.” He murmurs, “the food smells good.”

“I know you have to be hungry.” You murmur. “Smoked pork and mozzarella omelets.” You announce. “We’ve started making cheeses and hoping to get the old commercial freezer system working so we can save it.”

“That’s great.” Joel murmurs as you cook and his fingers flex on your waist until he hears Alex crying. “I’ll get him.” He says, kissing your shoulder before he heads back into the living room.

“I didn’t do anything. He just started crying and I-” Ellie looks panicked but Joel nods and holds his hands out to gently take the baby.

“It’s okay, baby boy.” He murmurs, rocking the baby and he can tell he’s hungry. “Sweetheart, I think he’s hungry. Let me finish cooking and you take care of our boy.”

“Okay.” You are hesitant to stop cooking, because you want to make the meal for Joel and Ellie, but you take the baby from his father. “Hey, sweet boy, mama’s here. Are you hungry? Is that your problem?” You have gotten used to feeding him and pull your shirt down to pull your breast out. Luckily there was a seamstress in town who could convert any bra into a nursing bra. Alex quiets down the second he senses your nipple and grunts as he latches on and starts to drink.

Joel takes over at the stove but his eyes are fixed on you breastfeeding the baby. He has missed you, thought of you in his every step to get home to Jackson. You’re just as gorgeous as when he left and seeing you with the baby has his heart thumping in his chest. He turns back towards the stove, making sure the food doesn’t burn.

There’s something about Joel and Ellie being here that makes the house seem like home. The atmosphere is even cozier than when it was just you and Alex. The baby gulps down the milk greedily and you watch as Joel finishes the omelets. “The doctors said that he’s healthy. I’m healthy.” You add.

Joel nods, “that’s good.” He watches Ellie as she sits down and asks you if it hurts to have him sucking like that and you chuckle softly and shrug, “sometimes.”

Ellie wrinkles her nose, “yeah I don’t wanna do that.” She says with conviction, “no kids for me.”

You nod, “good choice, kid.” Joel shakes his head with a snort and he plates up the food.

“Dinner’s ready, kid.” Joel says as he places the plates on the kitchen table. “Come eat.” He says despite his own stomach grumbling.

“You two eat.” You tell Joel when he tries to split the food between the three of you. “I’m not hungry right now. I’ve eaten just a little bit ago.” You had eaten already and you want them to enjoy themselves.

Joel doesn’t argue, starving after barely finding anything to eat in the last thirty miles of walking back here. Ellie digs in, no manners as always but he doesn’t reprimand her, knowing that she’s starving too. He groans softly when he digs in, the food hitting his tongue like ambrosia.

You enjoy the way the two of them are eating heartily. “There’s plenty of eggs being produced, so don’t worry about eating all of them.” You laugh quietly. “I’m about egged out myself, but it’s good protein.”

Joel hums around his mouthful, trying to not shove it in but it’s hard when he’s so fucking hungry. “Is there anything else to eat?” Ellie asks, still hungry and she knows she has to mind her manners but fuck, she’s starving.

“There is.” You nod and point towards the refrigerator. “I have some leftovers in there and the microwave actually works now that we’ve got the hydro power working.”

Joel can't remember the last time he used a microwave. Maybe the day Sarah died. He swallows the bite of food and takes a sip of water. "I can take Alex." He offers, wanting to hold his son again now that he is asleep against your chest.

“Okay.” You know that he’s missed time with Alex. He deserves to bond with his son. Handing him off to Joel, you go to the fridge to pull out some more food for Ellie. The light doesn’t work on the inside anymore, but it’s cold.

Joel cradles the sleeping baby, staring at him and memorizing his tiny features. “He’s so beautiful.” Joel murmurs, unable to tear his eyes away from the baby as you prepare some more food.

Ellie is wide eyed at the microwave, thinking it might be the coolest thing she’s ever seen and you glance over at Joel and Alex. “He is.” You agree. “And he’s so sweet. Such a good baby. Rarely cries until he needs something.”

“Gets that from you.” Joel chuckles, “resilience and being easy going.” He says knowing how calm and composed you were being pregnant and trekking across the country. “Holy shit that’s amazing.” Ellie gasps as she looks down at the hot food and back to the microwave.

You laugh and nudge her shoulder. “Wonders of the past.” You tease her. “There were whole bunches of kids who couldn’t cook except for a microwave.”

Joel snorts, “pizza rolls were my go to.” He says and leans down to press a soft kiss to Alex’s head, breathing in his scent. You serve the food that Ellie devours and soon Joel stands up with the sleeping baby. “Can you take him, sweetheart? I want to have a shower.” He says, knowing he stinks but he wanted this time with his family first.

“Of course.” You had anticipated that he wanted to shower. After that, he probably wants to sleep for at least a week. You wonder when the last time he actually slept was. “The water should be hot and I’ll grab those clothes that I think will fit you.”

Joel nods, leaning in to kiss your forehead as he makes his way to the bathroom. He groans when he steps under the hot water, allowing himself to relax for the first time in a long time. He watches the blood and dirt swirl down the drain. The memories of what he did to save Ellie go with the water, letting himself compartmentalize like he always has to avoid the guilt that comes with each person he kills. It was to protect Ellie, to save her life. That’s what he tells himself as he lathers up, “to get back to my family.” He murmurs, unable to regret the actions that brought him home to you and his son with the girl he’s come to love as a daughter.

Downstairs, you clean up the kitchen, Alex in his bouncy chair while Ellie catches you up on everything that happened. Your eyes widen when she tells you that Joel had been stabbed with a baseball bat and almost died, biting your lip to keep from crying the tears that come so easily now. You almost lost him and you didn’t even know. Her face takes on a haunted look, one you can easily interpret and you pat her shoulder gently, telling her that she doesn’t have to talk about it.

Joel rests his forehead on the tile as the water runs over his back. The images of the close calls flashing in his mind and he eventually drags himself out when the water runs cold. He wraps the towel around his waist and he grabs the razor you left on the side for him to cut down the beard that has grown out during his absence.

Once he’s bounced his little heart out, Alex starts to fall asleep in the little chair. It’s reclined position perfect for naps and you had already sent Ellie up to her room to check out the books or take her own nap if she wanted. Just anxiously waiting for Joel so you can talk about what the future might hold for you. You hadn’t stopped loving him, that’s for sure, but he might have realized that he didn’t want a life with you.

Joel comes out of the bathroom to find you setting clothes down on the bed for him, the towel wrapped around his waist and skin still damp from his shower. “Everything okay baby?” He asks as he walks over to you, his hand finding your shoulder.

“Everything’s good.” Your eyes immediately dropping to his side and they widen dramatically. “Oh my god.” You whisper, reaching out and touching the scarred skin. “Ellie told me.”

He sighs softly, sitting down on the edge of the bed, and he stares across the room at the faded carpet. “I thought I was gonna die.” He confesses, “I thought I was gonna die and leave you behind, leave Alex behind. I thought I was going to fail Ellie. She was taken and they nearly-” He chokes, unable to finish the sentence.

“They didn’t. She is-“ you shake your head. “She’s here, and you are here.” You can’t help but move closer, reaching out and caressing his wet hair. “You’re both safe now.”

Joel swallows harshly, “I couldn’t lose her. They - I haven’t told her.” His voice lowers, “the Fireflies…the doctor…they were gonna take her fucking brain. She would’ve died and I couldn’t let that happen so I took her and killed - I killed people trying to save her life. I couldn’t let her die.” He whispers, closing his eyes.

“Oh my god.” Your eyes widen in horror and you can’t imagine Joel letting that happen to Ellie. He cares about her so much, he loves her, protects her like she is his own flesh and blood. “You- you did the right thing.” You manage to choke out. “They were going to- to kill her?” Your voice drops to a whisper. “No, fuck no, assholes. They deserved what they got.” You are furious and you would have killed them too when you found out. You don’t blame Joel at all.

He focuses on your hand in his hair as he tries to control his breathing. “She doesn’t know. I- I think she would’ve wanted to die. To give the world a chance to cure the virus but I couldn’t let her. I couldn’t lose her.” He admits, closing his eyes as the pain surges inside of him.

“She should never know.” You immediately agree. “No, she- she wouldn’t understand.” You do. You would die for your son, you would kill for him. Ellie falls into that same category for both you and Joel. “She’s here now. Safe. No one is going to take her away.”

Joel nods, reaching for your hand to squeeze it. “Thank you. For everything. I never - I thought I would be killed at some point and I didn’t care. It’s why I was vicious. I didn’t care if I died but I do now. I want to be here for you and the kids. I love you. I love you.” He rasps, opening his eyes to look at you.

His vow warms you through. Squeezing his hand back, you smile. “I love you too.” You promise softly. “I was so worried about you two, even as busy as I was with Alex. We walked to the gates every day.”

He leans in to nudge his nose against yours, “I missed you both every day. Kept me going. Even when I was on my deathbed.” He says as he brushes his lips against yours, gives you a chance to pull back but he wants you, wants to reassure himself that he’s home.

“I’m glad it wasn’t your death bed.” You whisper against his mouth and press closer to him. “You’re home, Joel.”

He reaches for your waist, dragging you closer to press his lips a little harder against yours, his stomach twisting with a sudden need for you. He needs to feel you, to know that he’s home. He’s back with his family. His tongue is about to slide into your mouth until he pulls back. “Where’s Alex?” He asks, wanting to make sure the baby is okay.

“He’s asleep.” You explain softly. The bassinet is in the nursery, making sure that he wouldn’t be disturbed if he wants to sleep. “The baby’s room is right across the hall.”

He nods, reassured that you can hear the baby if he wakes up, and he presses his lips against yours again, his tongue immediately sliding into your mouth with a groan. His fingers digging into your waist as he slides his tongue against yours, his cock twitching under his towel.

You groan into his mouth, desperate to be close to him. To know that this emotion is real, that his promise that he loves you is real. Joel has never touched you, just you touching him when you made Alex, so you want to feel his hands on you.

He shifts to lay you down on the bed, pleased for be touching you like this in an actual bed. “Baby, can i- I want to taste you.” He murmurs, kissing along your jaw as he shifts to straddle you as you shift up the bed to settle against the pillows as he follows your body.

“You can- anything you want.” Joel wants you. It makes your entire body vibrate in pleasure and you bite your lip. Your body has changed since giving birth, he’s seen all of you but you don’t know how he will like the changes.

Joel kisses along your neck, breathing you in and he reaches for the hem of your shirt, dragging it over your head. Your nursing bra is exposed and he wastes no time reaching behind you to unclip it and drag it off of your body. “Jesus.” He hisses when he sees your tits, swollen with milk for his child, and he feels a little feral. “Fuck. Are they sensitive?” He asks before he touches them.

“Not bad.” You murmur, running your fingers through his hair. “They have been toughened up by your son.” You tease. “You can touch them.”

He smiles for a second before he gently cups your breast, lifting it up so he can lean down and take your nipple into his mouth. A squirt of milk enters his mouth and he doesn’t care, it’s natural and your moan of pleasure has his cock twitching.

It’s completely differing having Joel suck on your breasts. The feeling of it making your cunt clench. “Oh god.” You whimper quietly. “The midwife- she- I’m on birth control.” You explain. You don’t know how they had done it, but they had means of birth control here and the old doctor had taught the midwife.

He groans into your flesh at that news, glad that he won’t get you pregnant again so soon after you’ve had Alex. “Are you cleared for sex?” He asks, “are you comfortable? If not, we can - I am happy to just hold you.” He says as he pulls off of your breast to look at you.

“Don’t you dare stop now.” You pant as you look down at him. “I want you. I wanted you the entire time I was carrying Alex.”

He groans, "thank God. Really wanna touch you again. Wanted to when you were pregnant but I didn't think you wanted me like that." He admits and leans down to take your nipple back into his mouth. His hands slide down to your leggings, pushing his hand in to find your wet cunt and he groans around your nipple as he finds your clit.

You are in heaven, loving the attention. His fingers are thick and calloused on your clit, making you moan his name out softly. You don’t want Ellie to hear and give you shit later, so you bite your lip.

His fingers rub your clit, groaning your name as he discovers how wet you are, and his fingers slide lower to push inside of you. He is gentle, wanting to make sure you’re comfortable.

You whine his name again, loving how tender he is being. It’s as if he wants to make sure this time, only the second time you’ve slept together, is special.

He groans as your walls flutter around his digits and he desperately wants to make sure this time is slow. You’re in control now. No one is holding a gun to your head and he needs you to be all in and enjoy this. Especially with the love that has grown between you. “Baby, need to taste you.” He murmurs as he reluctantly withdraws his fingers from inside of you and he hooks them in your leggings to drag them down your body along with your panties. Once both items are tossed on the floor, he gently spreads your thighs and he leans in to nudge his nose against your thigh, kissing along the sensitive flesh as he breathes you in.

You nearly pass the fuck out. Overwhelmed by just his breath near your cunt. You’ve not had someone go down on you since before the outbreak. “You don’t have to.” You pant, but Joel just huffs lightly against your folds. “I want to.” He insists before he takes a teasing lick of your cunt to taste you.

His groan reverberates through your body as his tongue pushes deep inside of your pussy, groaning your name as he pushes your thighs back to get access to more of you. He’s hungry for you after the first taste and the sound of your moan has him grinding into the mattress. “Fuck. You taste good.” He murmurs before he resumes flicking his tongue over your clit until he’s sucking it between his lips.

Your head tilts back into the pillow, eyes closed as you just feel the way that Joel is taking you apart. Swipe after swipe of his clever tongue until he pulls your clit into his mouth to make you gasp. "Oh fuck." You moan, unable to stop the way your hips roll down. "It's so- fuck, I don't ever remember it being this good. Fuck, Joel."

His fingers dig into your hips and he groans your name into your wet flesh, his hand shifting slowly to circle your entrance. His digits caressing your folds to give you a second in case you don’t want his fingers and just want his tongue but when you moan out “please” he eagerly pushes two inside of you.

You feel full. Not nearly as full as you remember his cock inside you, but better than your fingers. “Joel, baby, fuck, I love your hands.” You whine. “So fucking big. Imagined them on me so many times.”

He loves hearing that you’ve imagined him because he’s imagined you too. So many times. “Baby. Shit.” He hisses as he curls his fingers and resumes sucking on your clit. He wants to hear you cum. He desperately needs it.

His attention being focused on you is nearly too much. Whining as he continues to pull you apart, your fingers twist into the bedsheets and you moan wantonly.

Your moans echo sweetly in his ears and he pumps his fingers a little faster. “That’s it, baby.” He murmurs against your wet flesh before he’s lapping at your clit again. The sounds so sweet and he needs you to cum for me.

It doesn’t take too long before he throws you over the edge. Making you cry out in pleasure as your vision goes white and your entire body lights up as heat floods it.

He groans at the flood of your cum on his fingers, soaking them as you clamp down and he’s eager to push them into his mouth but he also needs to work you through your orgasm. He gently laps at your clit, working you through it before he withdraws his fingers, pushing them into his mouth as you pant against the sheets.

“Joel.” You whimper his name and nearly melt into the bed. “Holy shit, holy shit, you- that was amazing.” You pant out with a giggle. You had expected Joel to want a blow job, not to make you cum. “I- I want you inside me.” You confess, feeling slightly greedy after that.

He nods, needing that too and his wet fingers grip the sheets as he climbs up your body. Your fingers grab his shoulders to caress his skin. His cock is hard and throbbing against your inner thigh as you eagerly spread your legs wider for him. His eyes meet yours, wanting to make sure you want this and when your hungry eyes focus on him, he has his answer. He reaches between you to grip his cock, positioning himself at your entrance and he slowly pushes into you, groaning at the wet heat that envelops his cock. “Fuck.” He gasps, turning his head to press his lips against yours as he slowly pushes into you.

It’s even better than the first time. Both of you want this. Both of you need this. You kiss him back, moaning into his mouth while you wrap your arms around him. Pulling him closer until he is firmly embedded, buried to the hilt in your warmth.

He slides his tongue against yours, taking a moment to kiss you while he’s buried inside of you, not moving. Savoring this moment, something he wasn’t sure he’d get to have since he nearly died several times trying to return to you. He takes a moment until it’s too much and he has to move. His hips move back slightly until he pushes into you again, slow and unhurried.

It’s slow, methodical. Love making in every sense of the word. Every rolls of his hips is softened by your own arch, meeting him as your legs tighten around the back of his thighs. He lets his weight down onto you slowly when he pushes his arms underneath your body and you love the feel of him. Surrounding you and completely overriding all your senses.

You feel like home. That’s the only way Joel can describe this feeling. He feels like he’s back where he belongs and his heart pounds in his chest. His hips press against yours as he rocks into you, deep and slow.

Your lips press together and your tongues tangle while he slowly fucks you. Unless Alex wakes up or Jackson is attacked, there’s nothing stopping you from taking all the time in the world. Your fingers drift up and down the planes of his back, feeling the muscles moving.

He kisses along your jaw, loving the way you clench around him when he adjusts his hips. He’s trying to find that spot that makes you moan but he’s in no rush. Joel feels safe and secure for the first time in years and he desperately wants to cling to that feeling. His hips pushing deep again and when you cry out against his cheek, he grins in victory and focuses on that same angle.

When he’s determined, Joel doesn’t stop. When he finds that spot, he presses against it again and again, groaning at the way you squeeze him in response. You could sob from how good it feels, but you don’t want to make him think for a second you regret this.

Every rock of his hips has him hinting that spot and he grabs your breast, squeezing it and he arches so he can bend down to take your nipple into his mouth, gently biting down. “You close?” He asks, needing to know in case you need something else to send you over the edge.

"Fuck yesssss." you hiss, pulling him back down so he can suck on your tit again. Even if you weren't, you wouldn't mind. feeling too amazing for words.

He hums around your nipple, pleased that you’re close as he keeps his thrusts the same angle and speed, feeling you tense beneath him and he knows you’re close. “That’s it baby. That’s it. Cum for me.” He murmurs into your skin.

Your nails dig into his back, but you don't think that he minds. Not the way his thrusts have started becoming harsher. Short and deep, like he's trying to stop himself from cumming before you do. One more thrust and you are crying out wordlessly, unable to even articulate a praise as you fall apart around him.

He loves it. Addicted to this already even after having you when you got pregnant with Alex. He works you through it, rocking his hips and he’s so close. It’s been so long since he was inside of you - of any woman - and it doesn’t take long. A half dozen more thrusts and he’s pushing deep, filling you up with his hot seed after you told him earlier it was safe. His lips pressing against your neck as he pants.

“So good, baby.” You whimper quietly, closing your eyes as you feel him relax against you. His cock is still throbbing inside you and it’s probably the best feeling in the world. “I love you.”

“I love you too baby.” He murmurs, shifting to nudge his nose against yours. He’s so grateful he made it home to you and Alex with Ellie still alive and well. He kisses you softly while he softens inside of you, unwilling to move. He doesn’t want to move from this house, this town. He’s found peace finally and he will fight tooth and nail to keep it. To keep his family safe, he’d do anything. For now, Joel wants to enjoy his serenity and he kisses you with a smile, excited for his future in Jackson. It’s secure and safe…what could possibly go wrong?

#reblogging to read later #so far it’s really good #looking forward to more

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