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justagalwhowrites · 2 months

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Hi! Soooo I've read a lot of amazing Joel Miller fics, but Lavender is seriously my all time favorite. Doc and Joel's story just made me so emotional. Here's my request for a drabble/oneshot- a sneak peak into Doc and Joel's relationship when they first get together pre-outbreak. Specifically, Joel takes Doc out on a nice dinner date for the first time and she feels super special and they are starting to catch so many feels for each other. Thank you!!!

OMG Hi Bestie!

So you sent this ask in like... 1.5 million years ago and this isn't EXACTLY it but... I think it fits the vibe. I hope. So here's Joel and Doc's first Valentine's Day together. I hope you like it!

Cupid

You and Joel spend Valentine's Day together. A Lavender one shot. Can be read as a stand alone with the understanding that Joel and Reader have an established relationship.

^We're gonna pretend that's Joel for this, OK? OK.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader (From Lavender)

CW: Smut :) Just some fluffy, fun, p in v smut. They're in love and we love that for them. Pre-Outbreak. Age gap but not the focus of the fic (11 years, reader is 22 Joel is 33.) No use of Y/N. Minors DNI 18+ Only.

Length: 3.8k

Wednesday, February 14, 2001

You’d never had a boyfriend on Valentine’s Day before.

The thought made you oddly nervous. Not that Joel had given you anything to be nervous about, of course, but you were. Valentine’s Day had always just been another day for you. Sometimes Nan got you one of the little boxes of chocolates but, otherwise, it had never been something you had a reason to celebrate. You were just so used to ignoring it that, until Saturday, you hadn’t even thought about Valentine’s Day.

You’d been in bed with Joel. It was late and your bodies were pressed close together, his skin on yours, your nose nuzzled into his throat, your head still a bit fuzzy from the orgasms.

“How do you feel about goin’ to dinner Wednesday?” He asked softly, his fingers trailing over your side, lips in your hair.

You frowned against him.

“Doesn’t Sarah have practice?”

“Canceled,” he said. “Besides, I was gonna get Tommy to take her, anyway. He’s already taking her for the night so we can have some privacy.”

You frown deepened and you felt him chuckle against you.

“Did you forget?” He asked.

“No,” you said defensively. “I just… didn’t know there was something to forget.”

He laughed a little again.

“It’s Valentine’s Day baby,” he said. “Fully intend on takin’ full advantage of any holiday that lets me romance you.”

Joel seemed to mean it. By Wednesday night, you didn’t know the details of what he was planning - you didn’t get to see him on Tuesdays, Sarah had Girl Scouts across town and your classes ran too late to see him before her meeting - but he’d sent flowers to your apartment the day before your date, timed when you were home for lunch between classes with a card that said he loved you and told you to be ready to go at 5:30 Wednesday night.

You weren’t sure if you were doing your part in this right at all. You’d spent a good chunk of Sunday shopping and cursing yourself for not remembering freaking Valentine’s Day. It’s not like there weren’t heart shaped boxes of candy sitting out every time you went to the grocery store, it should have occurred to you. It just hadn’t even registered that it would apply to you now.

You at least had an idea of what you wanted to get him and weren’t going in completely blind. You’d been keeping an eye out at thrift stores for vintage shirts from his favorite bands, never exactly hunting for them but always checking the men’s section when you went in to find something for yourself. You also had a picture from a trip to a museum of you, Joel and Sarah had made that you’d been keeping to give him at some point, wanting to frame it for him.

It took a few hours - and stops at four different thrift stores - but you eventually found a Fleetwood Mac shirt that you thought was from the 70s and was wearing thin in a few places but you were sure he’d like it. You found the perfect frame, too, the wood cracking at the sides but you had a plan for that.

You fixed the frame, coloring the glue forest green so it was like vines were growing on a tree and put the picture of the three of you in it. It was off center, you’d been holding the camera away from yourselves and hoping that you were all in the frame. You were looking at Sarah, she was looking at you and Joel had his perfect, crooked smile that made his cheek dimple and his eyes shine.

You made brownies that afternoon, covering them in pink glaze and red heart sprinkles before piling them on a plate and sneaking a bite of one before getting ready. You took a curling iron to your hair and did your makeup and painted your nails red before slipping into a dress you’d found when shopping for Joel’s shirt, black and form fitting and you tried to not feel like an imposter as you tied the red ribbon around the half ponytail at the back of your head.

There was a knock at your door and you took a last look at yourself in your bedroom mirror, breathing deep and trying to calm your thudding heart before you answered it.

“Jesus, baby,” Joel said, a look of almost awe on his handsome face as you opened the door. “Should warn a man before you show up lookin’ like that…”

“Is it too much?” You asked, looking down at yourself. “I can change…”

“Don’t you dare,” he said, looping an arm around your waist and pulling you against him. “You look fuckin’ amazing.”

You put your arms around his neck and kissed him, smiling against his mouth, before stepping back from him. He’d dressed up, too, in black jeans with a white button down shirt that he’d tucked in and worn with a belt. He even had on a tan blazer, one that looked almost too small for his broad shoulders.

“You look so good!” You were practically giddy, hands going over your mouth to keep from sounding too excited. Joel laughed a little.

“Don’t know if it warrants that much of a reaction. But figured I’d at least try to look like I belonged out with someone as pretty as you,” he teased and you rolled your eyes. “C’mon, we don’t leave now we are in very real danger of not making it out of the house, you are too damn tempting.”

Joel led you to his truck - which was almost shockingly clean, water from the car wash still dripping from his bumper - and opened the door for you, offering you his hand as you climbed in.

“So,” you smiled as he started driving. “Where are we going?”

“You’ll see,” he smiled back. “Believe it or not, had something cookin’ for a minute.”

His hand found the inside of your knee, the callus of his thumb stroking the skin there. You tried to figure out where you were going as he drove but you were still caught totally off guard when he parked in front of a French restaurant you’d been dying to try.

“Are you kidding me?” You gasped. “Joel!”

He laughed and took your hand, kissing your knuckles.

“Know you’ve been wanting to try it,” he said. “Turns out a guy on my crew’s sister works here so I could wrangle a reservation…”

“This is amazing!” You were practically giddy, going to open your door, but Joel stopped you.

“Gotta let me try to be a gentleman,” he kissed your hand again. “Sit tight.”

He got out and jogged around the front of the truck, opening your door and offering you his hand.

“Why thank you sir,” you said, trying to sound aloof and dignified. You didn’t think you pulled it off, too busy smiling to make it convincing. He pulled you in close and pressed a kiss to your temple before putting his hand on the small of your back and guiding you into the restaurant.

They sat you at a table in a secluded corner, a white tablecloth and the low glow of a candle setting the scene. The host handed you a menu in a leather book with a gold tassel on the end and you waited for him to leave the table before you mouthed “oh my god” at Joel, who smiled and laughed quietly across the table.

The menu had was full of French foods you’d only dreamed of trying at a restaurant: coq au vin, confit de canard, gigot d’agneau. There was even boeuf bourguignon. But the prices made your eyes go wide, your newly-painted nails digging into the leather of the menu.

“Don’t think I can get that beef you make,” Joel said absently, looking at the menu. “Not gonna measure up to yours, don’t care how good the restaurant is…”

“Joel,” you whispered over your menu. He looked up from his, brows raised. “We really don’t need to eat here…”

He frowned.

“Not seein’ something you want?” He asked. “We can go somewhere else, might be hard to get a table but…”

“No!” You shook your head quickly. “No, the food looks great but…”

You bit your lip and trailed off and he watched you, waiting for you to finish.

“But?” He asked eventually.

“But this place is…” you lowered your voice. “This is expensive. We really don’t have to eat here just because I’ve talked about it, we can go anywhere, we can just order a pizza if you want, I really don’t need all this, this is…”

“Baby,” he cut you off, a crooked smile on his face. “Don’t worry about the price. Been wanting to take you here since this place opened, set aside some money for it. Get whatever you want.”

“But…”

He set the menu down and crossed his arms over the table, leaning over it toward you.

“You gonna let me spoil my girl for Valentine’s Day or are you gonna give me trouble?” He asked. You frowned a little, thumb toying with the corner of the menu. Joel tilted his head until you met his gaze. “I mean it, baby. Really want to do this. Please let me?”

“OK,” you said, still uncertain and looking at the menu again, looking for the least expensive entree.

“Swear to god you order the cheapest thing, we’re comin’ back next week,” Joel said as though he read your mind. “You’d better get what you actually want.”

“You drive a hard bargain,” you said, trying your best to ignore the price column on the menu.

You settled on the duck and Joel got the steak frites and, once the numbers were out of your head, you were able to relax more, savoring the wine and running your heel-clad foot over the inside of Joel’s leg from across the table.

“You would’ve been makin’ fun of me last night, Baby,” he smiled, taking a sip of his wine. “Remember how I told you Sarah didn’t know what she wanted to bring to school for Valentine’s Day?”

“Yeah,” you frowned.

“Well,” he laughed. “She decided yesterday she wanted cupcakes. So we stopped by the store on the way home from scouts, got the themed cake mix, all that. But she really wanted to try and do it herself so I started out just supervisin’… ended up running the cake mix through the pasta strainer to get all the egg shells out of it, that girl was in rare form…”

“Oh no!” You laughed, loud enough that the table close to you shot you a glare and you tried not to laugh harder when you quieted down. “How’d they turn out?”

“Alright I think,” he said. “They were kinda lopsided but tasted fine. We split one this morning.”

“You send her off to school with a sugar high?” You teased.

“Not from half a cupcake,” he waved you off. “The little box of candy I caved and let her have this morning did that.”

You giggled.

“I’m sure her teacher appreciated that.”

“I’m just hopin’ with the sweets from school it carried through to when Tommy picked her up from school,” he smirked a little. “Think I owe ‘em for loading her up with candy after Halloween last year, as if she didn’t have enough already…”

The food was incredible, so good you had to set your fork down to focus on the flavor of the first bite, Joel smiling almost proudly from across the table. By the time you were done, you were two glasses of wine deep - Joel ordering a second for you before you could stop him - and he was holding your calf under the table, hand sliding over the muscle to cup your ankle, thumb massaging the tendon there.

“You’ve been playin’ a dangerous game over there, baby,” he said, voice low.

“You’re hot,” you said, almost shyly. “Can’t help it.”

“Thinkin’ I should get you home,” he said. “Get you outta that dress.”

“I’m thinking you’re right,” you said, heat settling low around your hips.

Joel’s mouth was on you before you even got your front door closed, your arms around his neck and his hands on your ass, holding you tight to the front of him.

“I,” you kissed him. “Got,” another kiss. “You.” Kiss. “Something.”

“Really?”

Another kiss as you nodded.

“Didn’t need to do that, baby…”

“Too bad,” you smiled, kissing him long and hard before pulling back from him. “I like doing stuff for you, too, you know.”

You took his hands and led him to your bedroom, sitting him on the bed before handing him the box with the shirt and frame inside. He opened it almost reverently, a little smile pulling up at the corners of his lips as he did.

“It’s not as good as what you did,” you said, sitting next to him, twisting your fingers around on themselves as he lifted the lid of the box.

“Oh, baby,” he said softly, picking up the frame, his thumb tracing the parts you’d repaired. “This is perfect… when was this?”

“Remember when Sarah and I were on Christmas break and we went to the natural history museum the day before New Year’s Eve?” You said.

“That was a good day,” he smiled down at the picture before setting it on your nightstand and he laughed as he got out the shirt. “Where the hell’d you find this?”

“I’ve been keeping an eye out,” you smiled. “It’s well loved but I did wash it already…”

He cut you off with a kiss before you could finish, dropping the box and the shirt to the floor as he pulled you against him, his lips insistent and needy on yours. He quickly shrugged out of his jacket as you fumbled with the buttons on his shirt and he unzipped your dress. You got each other undressed quickly, his mouth on yours as he lay you below him, his large hand cupping your pussy before he slipped two fingers between your swollen, slick lips, tracing over your entrance before sliding up to tease your clit as he settled between your thighs.

“Fuck, you’re wet,” he panted against you, pushing his fingers into your tight channel, just up to the first knuckle. “This all for me, baby?”

You nodded and tried to pull him closer, to bring his body fully against your own, but he stayed just far enough away that you could feel the warmth of his skin but not the softness of him itself. You groaned and he smiled as he trailed kisses over your jaw to your throat.

“Seems like you might want somethin’,” he teased a little. You just nodded. “Should say what you want, baby, so I know what to give you.”

“You,” your fingers scrambled over his back, desperate to find some kind of leverage. “Want you, please Joel…”

He kissed you gently but you could feel the hunger behind it. He needed you, too, you could feel it in him.

“OK baby,” he said softly, lining himself up at your entrance, the swell of his cock just close enough to start to part your walls without pushing in. “Give you what you want…”

He kissed you as he pressed into you, a moment of resistance before the thickness of his shaft entered you. You whimpered at the stretch of him, arching into his touch, your pussy already starting to tighten and flutter around him.

“Oh fuck,” he groaned. “You already close?”

You just nodded as he pushed deeper, his cock opening you to him until he was fully inside you, his head pressed firmly against the part of you that made you press your hips up against him and your fingers dig into his skin. You felt yourself pulse around him once before going even tighter as he moaned, his head dropping to your shoulder.

“Goddamn you feel good,” he panted. “Not gonna last once you come baby, tellin’ you that right now…”

“S’OK,” you clumsily rocked your hips up against his, desperate for that last little bit of friction you needed to push yourself over the edge. “Just… I need…”

“I got you,” he said, pressing somehow deeper and making you whimper below him. “Give you just what you need. Take such good care of you, baby, promise I will.”

He started slow but hard, the steady drag of his cock as he pulled back from you followed by the firm, heavy thrust of him as he fucked back into you. You matched his rhythm, moving your body in time with his, his skin warm on your own, his brown eyes warm and soft and deep on yours. You clung to him as his pace increased, your body getting tighter around him, orgasm building until your head was fuzzy and all you could feel was the desperate heat of pleasure deep inside you.

“Want you to come for me, baby,” Joel panted, one arm slipping below your arched back. He tilted your hips ever so slightly, the angle adjusted just enough that he could press deeper, his hips against your clit, all of him hitting you just right. You gasped at the change, your arms latching onto him tighter, your hips stuttering against him. “Oh fuck, there you go, just come for me, that’s it, c’mon, just give in to it baby, just…”

You cried out as you came, Joel holding you close and tight, his movements never slowing as he chased his own orgasm inside you, thrusting hard and deep until he pressed against the back wall of you as you throbbed over him, coming undone with a shaky groan. You felt him pulse inside of you, emptying himself deep until he went limp on top of you. He adjusted quickly as you caught your breath, rolling onto his back and taking you with him so you ended up sprawled on top of him, your nose nuzzled against his neck as he held you, his large palm gently tracing over your back.

He pressed a kiss to your forehead and you hummed happily, whole body feeling soft and hazy as you just focused on his skin against yours.

“You’re too good to me,” you sighed as you snuggled into him. You could feel him frown.

“Why’d you say that?”

“Because you are,” you kissed his neck. “You did way too much for me today, I can’t measure up.”

“Hey,” he said quietly, pulling back from you just enough that he could look into your eyes. “Don’t say that, that ain’t true…”

“Yes it is,” you said, running your fingers through his curls. “I loved it, I loved it so, so much. But it’s too much, I can’t do the same in return, I don’t deserve…”

“Yes you do,” he cut you off, giving you a little squeeze. “Baby, you do so much for me just by existing near me, you realize that?” You looked at him skeptically but he didn’t give you a chance to argue. “I mean it. My life is so much better because of you. Never thought I could love someone the way I love you, you made me understand this kind of thing existed at all. You make me laugh more than anyone else I’ve ever met and you are so damn sweet. Plus you’re so smart, I could just sit and watch how your mind works all damn day and never get bored and the fact that you’d just let me… Not to mention how you take care of me and Sarah. Never thought I’d find a woman who could love my little girl like you do. You’ve given me everything and you do it every damn day. I just wanted to try and give you some of that back.”

“Joel,” you said softly, tears burning at the corners of your eyes.

“Never had a ton goin’ for me,” he said, smiling a little. “Always kinda figured I’d fucked my life up at some point but… I wouldn’t have Sarah or you without everything I did leading up to it. Makes me feel like I did something right to get the two of you in the end, you know?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, kissing him softly. “I know.”

He smiled his gentle, crooked smile at you and you just looked into his chocolate brown eyes for a moment before you sat up quickly, remembering.

“I made you brownies!” You almost jumped out of bed and Joel laughed, catching your wrist as you untangled yourself from the sheets.

“Wasn’t done with you yet,” he tugged you closer, kissing up the inside of your arm.

“I’ll be right back,” you said. “Promise.”

You went to the kitchen and put two of the brownies onto a small plate and got a large glass of water before going back to your bedroom, Joel sitting with his back propped against your headboard. You handed him the water before you climbed in bed with him, holding the plate out to him. He laughed a little.

“These look amazing,” he said, picking up a brownie and taking a huge bite, groaning a little in pleasure as he did. “Taste amazing too,” he said, his mouth full. “You’d have been ashamed of those cupcakes…”

“Next time Sarah has a baking project, just call me,” you said, taking a bite of your own brownie. “I take sex in payment for culinary lessons for the right client. Namely you.”

He smiled, tugging you against him.

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

You snuggled in closer.

“Think we should make these brownies a holiday tradition,” Joel said, finishing his and kissing your temple. “These are damn good.”

“Plenty more where that came from, Miller,” you teased a little, sucking some of the pink frosting off your thumb. “You know, this was my first real Valentine’s Day.”

“Yeah?” Joel asked, looking down at you as best he could as you stayed tucked against his side. “I do OK?”

“You did amazing,” you smiled. “Ruined me for all other men.”

“Good,” he said, settling back against the headboard. “Gonna need all other men to keep their hands off you, anyway.”

You smiled a little at that, the idea of being his and he being yours. He nuzzled down into your hair, his lips pressing against the crown of your head.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, baby,” he said quietly. “First of many.”

Your smile grew.

“Happy Valentine’s Day.”

#fanfic #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #lavender #joel miller x oc #smut fic #send asks #kit answers

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justagalwhowrites · 4 months

Text

Shelter

IT'S FINALLY DONE!

A request from MONTHS ago from the lovely, the talented, the supreme Lavender fan @dundienominee who wanted some QZ era Joel angst that included a few specifics. I thought you'd sent an ask but I think it was just one of the millions of DMs lol

So here it is! A NON-CANON Lavender one shot, where Joel and Doc are stuck together when FEDRA puts the QZ on lockdown.

I hope this is what you're looking for, love!!

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader from Lavender (can be read independently with the understanding that Joel and Reader are exes and Reader also dated Tommy in the QZ.)

Warnings: SMUT!, Results of canon-typical violence, infidelity (not on each other). No use of Y/N. Minors DNI, 18+ only.

Length: 8.4k

August, 2017

Joel had been right.

That wasn’t a fact he particularly appreciated in that moment. He’d rather have been right and not shot. He’d rather have been wrong, for that matter, even if you’d be bound and fucking determined to hold it over him for the next who knows how fucking long.

But no, he had to be right and shot.

Still, better than another alternative.

You shot. You hurt. That was the worst possible outcome.

Well, maybe not the worst. That would be you dead.

Joel couldn’t think about that.

“Shit,” you swore, the sound of FEDRA around the next corner.

“There,” Joel said through gritted teeth, nodding toward a pile of junk.

“Right,” you said, pulling him along toward it, your shoulder tucked into his underarm. You pulled him down to the ground just as a dozen or so FEDRA guards ran past, armed to the teeth, guns drawn. Joel fought to keep quiet, breathe silently through the pain, until he couldn’t hear them anymore. You looked at him. There was blood on your cheek. “Should we wait? Or do you think we’re good to move?”

“So now you want to listen to me?” He asked sarcastically. You glared at him. He ignored it. “Should be alright now, doubt more troops will be headin’ that way from here.”

You helped him to his feet and he leaned against you again, trying to ignore the way his body seemed to be hyperaware of everywhere you touched him. You started walking.

“I’m really sorry, Joel,” you said, sounding a little breathless, as you started getting close to his apartment. “I really thought it would be alright…”

“Maybe fuckin’ listen to me next time,” he managed through the pain. “Might not be a damn doctor but I do know about shit like this…”

“I know,” you said quietly.

Joel let the subject drop.

The two of you had gone to the absolute shittiest part of the QZ to run medication to a boy there who had been in the clinic just a few days earlier. You’d gone on a special trip outside the QZ for it. You had explained it all to Joel and Tess, of course, but he didn’t really get it. All he knew was there was a four-year-old boy who needed some drug urgently.

You just hadn’t bothered to explain where that drug needed to be taken until you, Joel and Tess made it back to the QZ.

“No,” Joel had shaken his head. “No fuckin’ way…”

“He’s going to die,” you said. “He has the flu, he’s already showing signs of complications, if he doesn’t get help it will kill him, I need…”

“No.”

“Fine,” you snapped. “I’ll go on my own.”

You turned to leave.

“No the fuck you won’t,” Joel grabbed your wrist, yanking you harshly alongside him. “Gonna just get yourself fuckin’ killed…”

“Fuck off, Joel.”

You pulled yourself from his grip and stalked off, leaving him no choice but to follow you. For someone as damn smart as you were, you made stupid fucking decisions.

Decisions that led to the two of you getting caught in the crossfire between two rival groups that left Joel with a bullet in his stomach near his hip.

“Almost there,” you said, your fingers holding tight to his side.

“Know where the fuck we are,” he muttered. He didn’t need to look at you to know that you rolled your eyes in response.

He managed to make it up the stairs and into the apartment, Tess pacing the living room. She stopped when she saw him, her eyes going wide.

“Jesus Christ,” she ran to him, taking his other side.

“Let’s get him to the table,” you said. “Trying to avoid doing this on the floor again…”

Joel had all but forgotten that you’d saved his life here, in this room, once before. He had almost no memory of it, what little he did remember was more like a dream. You, next to him, your hands soft, voice gentle, something warm in him that was tied to you. You didn’t seem real, you seemed like something he’d lost, something that was in a place that was too far and too good for him to reach. But you were there. And you were taking care of him.

“Fucking told you, Doc,” Tess snapped, helping to haul Joel’s broken body to the table. She cleared the papers and trash from it, dropping shit into a chair. “Fucking told you not to go to that side of the goddamn QZ…”

“Yeah, I get it,” you snapped back. “I’m a fucking idiot, alright? Just help me.”

You and Tess got Joel up on the table and he groaned, his muscle tensing and pulling around the wound in his stomach.

“Sorry, sorry,” you said, helping him lay back on the wood with a grunt.

“Don’t know why I let you talk us into this shit,” Tess said, still pissed, as she unbuttoned his shirt. “I should really fucking know better by now, you’re the dumbest smart person I know…”

“Tess,” Joel growled.

“She’s going to get you fucking killed,” she snapped. “She’s going to get us both fucking killed…”

“Tess,” his voice was sharper.

He knew that Tess was far from a fan of yours. She’d been growing tenser and tenser around you for a while now. He was never sure why, if it really was what she said and it was because she felt like you took stupid risks, if it was because he’d never been able to care about her the same way he cared about you in spite of how much he loathed it, if it was because she was tired of trying to keep the peace when you were so clearly done with him. For a while, it had seemed like the two of you were friends. Almost friends. But not anymore.

“Someone has to give a shit if you live or die, Joel, and we both know that it’s not going to be you and it’s not going to be her, either,” she unbuttoned his jeans next. “So that leaves me.”

“You think I don’t give a shit?” You asked, dropping your pack on a chair and yanking it open. “You think I keep you and him alive for fun?”

“No, I think you do it so you can keep trying to save a place that can’t be fucking saved,” she was yelling now.

“Tess.”

“Shut up, Joel,” she barely glanced at him before rounding on you again. “I’m tired of being some tool in her goddamn stupid crusade…”

“Tess.”

“I didn’t fucking make him come with me!” You yelled back at her. “I would have gone on my own, he’s the one…”

“You really think he’s the one who makes the decisions when it comes to you?” Tess shoved you. “You really think he’d let you run off to get yourself fucking killed? You’re an idiot sometimes, Doc, but you’re not that fucking stupid.”

“Tess!” Joel was trying to sit up but she wasn’t paying attention. You were. You looked at him, frowning.

“No,” she yelled, shoving you again. “No, I’m done with this shit, I’m done pretending that we’re doing fucking anything besides risking our fucking lives for some pointless…”

“Tess!” He managed to sit up, grabbing her arm before she could shove you again. Her head spun, hair whirling, eyes narrowed. “She’s right, don’t fuckin’ blame her…”

“She’s…” Tess shook her head. “You are so fucking stuck on her, on her bullshit, on…”

“Get out.”

You pulled gauze out of your pack and pressed it to the wound at his hip.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” She gaped at him, her brows raised.

“You can figure out how to fuckin’ respect her or you can go,” Joel said through gritted teeth. “Not gonna just let you talk about her…”

“Her is right here,” you cut him off. “Stop talking about me like I’m not fucking here. And Joel you need to lie down before you fuck something else up, Jesus…”

Tess looked between him and you before she shook her head and stepped back from the table.

“Good fucking luck,” Tess snapped before stalking out and slamming the door behind her.

You looked where she had been for a moment before nudging Joel back down onto the table.

“You done?” You asked, brows raised. “Because I don’t need you to defend me from your girlfriend, Joel. I’m still going to keep you alive even if you both hate me.”

“I don’t…”

“Stay still.”

He gritted his teeth and stared daggers at the ceiling while you worked on him for a moment, pressing gauze into his skin for a bit before pulling it away.

“Don’t think you’ve hit anything major,” you said, more to yourself than to him. He still grunted in response. “Stay put, I still need to get that bullet out and get you cleaned up.”

He followed you with his eyes as you went about collecting tools, cleaning yourself up, putting on sterile gloves. He tried to focus on you without it raising his blood pressure which, he figured, wouldn’t be the best thing to do when there was an open wound on his torso.

But it was hard.

It had been years with you like this. More than a decade. Thinking about you too much made his chest tight, his stomach clench. Thinking about you too much made him worry he might be having a fucking heart attack, that you just might be the death of him.

But you were still who he thought about when he needed comfort. Still where his mind went when he was in pain and he needed to remember why he should try to live through it. Still what he pictured when alone at night and he thought the loss and the emptiness of his life would swallow him whole. Still where his thoughts found when he wanted to come because nothing had ever felt as good as you.

“Think you can sit still while I get this sucker out of you?” You asked. “Because I don’t exactly have someone here to hold you still at the moment.”

“Just do it,” Joel squared his jaw and stared at the ceiling again.

You were quiet for a moment before you touched his bared skin with the lightest, gloved touch.

“I really am sorry,” you said softly. “I know… We have our issues but… I really hate seeing you hurt. I really hate getting you hurt.”

Joel looked at you, your face drawn into a frown, your eyes sad. Even now, he thought you might be the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

“I know,” he said, looking back at the ceiling.

You were quiet and he could feel your eyes on him before he felt you slip some kind of instrument into the wound. He hissed through the pain of it but kept still.

“I know,” you said, voice gentle and soothing. “You’re OK, it’ll be OK.”

He remembered you using that voice with Sarah. He came home from work once and his daughter was perched on the counter, sniffling, her face streaked with tears. You were talking to her in that voice, a wad of paper towel held against her knee.

“You’re OK. It’ll be OK.”

“You with me, Miller?” You asked after what felt like an eternity but knew it must have only been a few minutes. “Need a break?”

“Just finish it,” he managed through gritted teeth.

You found the bullet and planted your hand firmly on the softness of his stomach.

“Hold still,” you said. “This is going to have to be kind of slow, there’s relatively little damage, nothing major hit and I’d like to keep it that way.”

You pulled on it and he could feel you moving through him, through the gaping wound him, pulling the pain out into the open air.

When you finished, you held the bullet up, glistening with blood.

“The cause of all this trouble,” you said, turning it in the light. “Let me patch some of this up and make sure you don’t bleed out. I don’t think you’ll need a blood transfusion this time at least…”

Joel frowned, lifting his head slightly as you set to work.

“What do you mean ‘this time?’”

You froze for half a second before you tried to brush it off.

“Just, you know,” you said. “In general.”

He watched you work for a moment.

“Hey.”

You glanced at him before looking back at his wound.

“What?”

“You had to give me a blood transfusion last time?” He asked, trying not to groan at the pain.

“I didn’t want to freak you out,” you said eventually, tucking gauze into the wound. “But… yeah, you were down a lot of blood and… Look, I did what I had to do to keep you alive.”

You cleaned up the skin around his injury.

“Whose blood?”

“What?” You asked, focused on the task.

“Whose blood did you use?” He asked. “Don’t imagine you went down to the clinic so whose blood.”

You were quiet and Joel was about to ask again when you spoke.

“We didn’t know your blood type,” you said quietly. “So Tommy would have been the best option…” your voice trailed off but he knew that wasn’t the end. He kept watching you and you sighed before you kept going. “But I’m O- so…”

He just blinked for a moment.

“It was yours.”

Your eyes darted to his for half a second.

“Yeah. It was mine.”

He was quiet as you pulled off your gloves with a sharp snap.

You’d saved him. Bled for him, poured yourself into him so he would keep breathing. He’d walked around for who knows how long with you pulsing through his body and he hadn’t known.

“You should have told me,” he said eventually.

“Yeah, well.”

You started packing up.

“You should have…”

“I couldn’t be sure that you wouldn’t fucking slit your wrists if you knew, alright?” You snapped. “You hated me. You still hate me but it was worse then, you’ve figured out how to tolerate me in the last decade which is great and all but Jesus, Joel, don’t act like telling you was the easy thing to do.”

You threw your pack over your shoulder and he sat up, ignoring the pain at his hip.

“I need to get home,” you said. “Try not to wreck all my work…”

There was a pounding at the door that made you jump. Joel shoved himself off the table and quickly buttoned his shirt as he limped for the door.

“Bag down,” he said quietly. “Stay back.”

You nodded, obeying him for once in your damn life.

He opened the door slowly, cautiously. A FEDRA officer stood at his door.

“Can I help you?” Joel tried not to growl, tried not to do anything that would incite suspicion. Not that he could help that he had on a bloody shirt with a fucking bullet hole in it.

“There’s been increase violence in a nearby quadrant of the QZ,” the man said, barely looking at Joel. “We’re requiring all residents to shelter in place until further notice. Is everyone here a member of your household or does someone need an escort home?”

Joel saw you step toward the door, opening your mouth like you were about to speak, but he held his hand out behind him, silencing you.

“Same household,” he said. “We’re all set here.”

“We’ll let you know when it’s safe to leave,” the guard said. “Lock your door.”

He left before Joel had a chance to respond and he shut the door quickly before slumping against it.

“Joel!” You hissed, going to his side and looping an arm around his waist. He leaned against you and you helped him to the couch. “What the fuck were you thinking?”

“You really want to get a fuckin’ FEDRA escort home?” He grimaced.

“No,” you snapped, setting him on the couch. “But do you remember how long they locked us down for last time?”

“No.”

“A week,” you said, sitting on the threadbare arm chair. “And I’d rather get a FEDRA escort than have you kill me out of frustration in three days because that’s how long we’ll last before you get that fed up with me.”

“Jesus, you really think we can’t manage to not kill each other for a few fuckin’ days?” He settled into the couch. “You n’me have survived a lot worse than that.”

You scoffed.

“Have we?” You asked, brows raised. “Besides, aren’t you worried about Tess?”

He shrugged.

“She can handle herself better than you can,” he said and you rolled your eyes. “You that worried about gettin’ back to Derek?”

“Worried about FEDRA showing up at my door to look for relief for the clinic and not finding me,” you snapped. “Should have just let them…”

“Not gonna let you go out there with those fucking assholes if people are out there shooting at each other!” Joel cut you off. “Don’t trust ‘em with shit let alone with you! I can keep you safe here so you’re staying here, it ain’t up for discussion!”

You just blinked at Joel for a moment, a shocked look on your face.

“Think we can handle not strangling each other for a few damn days,” he muttered, looking away from you. He couldn’t really handle looking at you. You didn’t say anything. You just got up, grabbing your pack and stalking further into the apartment. He frowned. “Where do you think you’re goin’?”

“Don’t want to be around you any more than you want to be around me,” you said. “So I’m going to Tommy’s room…”

“Always liked his bed,” Joel muttered, grinding his teeth.

You flipped him off, not bothering to even look at him before slamming Tommy’s door behind you.

***

Day 1

Tommy needed better hobbies.

It was clear Joel had barely used Tommy’s room since he’d left. There were some boxes for storage - things you weren’t about to go searching through since you were pretty sure it was full of black market things from smuggling runs - but otherwise it was exactly how you remembered it. Not that you’d ever spent much time here. You liked to avoid Joel and Tommy seemed to like to avoid him even more than you did when you were around. You’d slept here a few times, when Joel was outside the QZ but Tommy had stayed behind, but he was much more likely to be at your place than his.

But this room was all but a shrine to him. Or maybe more of a mausoleum, something left in memory of someone who was gone and would never be back. You hadn’t really realized how much you’d missed your friend until you were back in his space, surrounded by his things.

You also realized that, in reality, you didn’t have a ton in common. Tommy’s book collection was… lacking. He had a few tattered Tom Clancy novels and you settled on one that you were pretty sure he’d brought over to your place once or twice.

It wasn’t really your thing, though, and you were desperately bored. You were going to have to emerge from the room eventually to do more than pee and refill your water bottle in the bathroom sink. You were almost out of the jerky you’d packed for your trip outside the QZ and you’d never been very good at sitting still with nothing to occupy your mind.

But you’d need to check on Joel’s injury at some point, anyway. Because looking at the ex who seemed to mostly hate you but apparently flew off the handle at the thought of you getting shot.

Which you didn’t fully understand. If anyone asked you, you’d have sworn up and down that Joel would shoot you in the street if it wouldn’t make his life harder. You were surprised he hadn’t all but tossed you to an infected in the years you’d been going outside the QZ but the fact that you did things like pull bullets out of him and stitch Tess’ knife wounds closed was apparently a good enough reason to keep you alive.

You didn’t see how that was a good enough reason to keep you from leaving his apartment when the two of you were about to be locked down for who the fuck knows how long. What were you supposed to do with… well, any of it?

Your head dangled over the edge of the bed when you spotted a ratty tennis ball in the corner. You tumbled off the bed and picked it up, oddly grateful to have something to function as a distraction and started bouncing it off the wall, catching it out of the air when it bounced back at you.

“The fuck you doing?” Joel called at you from the other side of the wall.

You rolled your eyes.

“Keeping myself from being so bored that I jump out a window.”

He was quiet for a minute.

You threw the ball again.

“It’s annoying.”

You caught the ball and then threw it.

“Should’ve sent me off with FEDRA then.”

For a moment, you thought that might be the end of it. And then the door opened.

He’d gotten changed, at least, his new shirt as clean and intact as you could really find in the QZ and he looked a little pale. You looked him in he eye and you threw the ball again.

“You tryin’ to piss me off?” He asked, one arm propped against the door frame.

You shrugged and caught the ball.

“You just make it so fun…”

You threw the ball again and he came and snatched it out of the air. You glared at him.

“Are you trying to make me miserable?” You asked. “Because it’s getting really old…”

“Is that what you think I’m doing?” He snapped. “Think I decided to come find you in my brother’s bed because it’s fun…”

“Oh will you stop fucking harping on that?” You shoved off the bed and stalked over to him in the doorway. “It’s ancient history! Think it’s time to get over the fact that your brother decided to pick up your broken toy…��

“You think that’s why I’m pissed?” He asked, brows raised.

You ignored him, dropping to your knees and yanking his shirt up. He stopped breathing and you checked his wound before getting to your feet.

“In a few hours I’ll change your dressing,” you said, looking up at him as you stood almost shockingly close to him. You could see the pulse in his throat. “Leave me alone until then.”

He clenched his jaw, looking you up and down, before storming off, yanking the door shut behind him.

Day 2

You waited until you heard the bathroom door close before you emerged. You were officially out of jerky and sitting in a room full of Tommy’s things while being sharply aware that he was thousands of miles away from you was wearing on you fast. You needed something - anything - to distract you.

So you darted to the kitchen, grabbed a bag of jerky, and paused on your way past Joel’s room, his door cracked open. If you were quick…

You opened the, the hinges creaking, and ducked inside.

It was neat, orderly. Like you remembered it being years ago when you were together. There were little signs of him everywhere, enough that you’d have recognized the room as his even if you’d walked into it in a strange place a thousand miles away. Little carvings on the window sill, the watch you’d helped Sarah picked for his birthday gift on the nightstand, a cracked Springsteen CD case sitting next to a worn boom box. You resisted the urge to touch the booklet and see if it fell open to a specific page, if you could tell what he’d been looking for when picking that album.

Instead, you went to the bookshelf that was collapsing, worn boards sagging between cinderblocks. You recognized Joel’s taste in books, a little more in line with your own. You found a Cormac McCarthy book you hadn’t read with a spine that looked comfortably warn and pulled it, almost reverently, off the shelf.

“The hell you doin’?”

You jumped, almost dropping the book and the bag of jerky.

“Sorry…”

“I say you could come in here?”

He was standing in the doorway in pajamas, his pants slung low on his hips, t-shirt stretched over his broad shoulders.

“I am bored out of my mind,” you said, squaring your jaw even though you knew you shouldn’t be in his room. “I got desperate.”

“You think that’s a reason to just waltz in…”

“No, but…”

“Sure acting like it!”

“Is hating me fun for you?” You snapped. “Because it sure seems like it is! I don’t know why you’d work this hard at it if it wasn’t.”

He looked you up and down for a moment.

“Just get the fuck out of here,” he stepped to the side and you ducked around him, all but running back to the room you’d claimed as your own.

You settled in on the bed with your new book, resting it on your knees and trying to forget how mad Joel had been just because you dared set foot in his room, as though you didn’t live together once in another life. It had been so easy for him to forget. You’d been so easy for him to forget.

You opened the book and tried to get absorbed in the story but were having a hard time focusing, shifting around on the bed and hoping that a more comfortable position might make it so you could let yourself fall into it. You were changing positions for the third time when something fell out of the book and flitted like a leaf down to the worn quilt. You frowned, picking it up and turning it over in your hands.

It was a picture. A picture of you.

“What?” You whispered to yourself, eyebrows knitting together.

It was a photo you recognized. Derek had it in his bedroom and he’d taken it without you knowing. You were folded into an armchair in his living room, a book in your hands, hair wild with a ribbon in to keep it out of your face. When he’d developed the photo, you remembered the day he’d taken it. One of the few that you had off from both jobs in the QZ. It had been warm that day, you hadn’t bothered to put on a bra or even pants, sitting around Derek’s place in a pair of his boxers and a tank top. He’d fucked you that morning, before it got too hot, and the two of you spent the day not moving much otherwise, not wanting to spend hours sticky with sweat and miserable.

The day stuck out to you, though, not because of the heat or because you got to spend it somewhere besides the clinic or the school. Instead, it was because it reminded you of summer days in Austin with Joel. Trying not to run the AC too much, you sat far apart on the couch wearing as little as possible with Sarah coming and going from the house with friends. He would bring you glasses of ice water or lemonade almost every time he got up, his lips finding your forehead when he pressed the cold glass into your palm, his large hand finding your ankle because he had to be touching you in some way without making both of you miserable in the heat.

And now Joel had a picture from that day, the one where he’d been on your mind the whole time, so much that you’d given up on trying not to think of him.

You weren’t sure how he’d gotten it. Derek may have given him a copy if he’d asked but you didn’t know how he knew it existed. And why would he want a copy in the first place?

You looked a little closer at it, the corners curling, edges peeling. Like it had been held a lot. There was a discolored almost halo around the edges of you, like someone had been tracing over the outline of you over and over again.

There was a sharp knock on your door and you stuffed the photo into the book again.

“What?” You asked, tone softer than it had been when speaking to Joel in years.

“Mind checkin’ this damn wound?” He asked through the door, his voice oddly gentle. “Since you’re here and all. Make yourself useful.”

“Yeah,” you said. “Yeah, of course. No problem.”

You made sure the photo was tucked away and set the book on the nightstand, keeping your fingers crossed that Joel didn’t realize which book you’d taken.

***

Joel didn’t like that you’d taken to hiding in Tommy’s old room.

He didn’t like that you were still here. Or so he tried to tell himself. Really, he didn’t like that you were still here without being here, like you were the ghost in his house in the same way it seemed you’d spent most of the last decade. You were just more corporeal now.

He was used to you crossing his mind all the time. Used to the feeling that, any second now, you’d come around the corner as you finished braiding your hair or with a little bottle of nail polish in your hand or a book in fucking French tucked below your arm. He knew what to do with that.

He didn’t know what to do with you actually here, in such close quarters. Especially not when you seemed to find such comfort in just the memory of his fucking brother - his brother who had damn near gotten you killed - and not Joel, who was actually here.

Joel stared down the hall at Tommy’s - your - door. His wound ached. You’d checked it earlier, said there was no sign of infection and that things were coming along well. You refreshed his bandages and he’d try not to think about the way the soft skin of your arm felt when you brushed against his exposed flesh.

That had been hours ago. He hadn’t heard a word from you since, not even the squeak of the mattress as you shifted and moved in ways he knew so well but couldn’t see.

He shoved himself to his feet with a pained grunt and went to the door, the one that seemed to fucking haunt him now. He knocked once.

“Yeah?”

Your voice sounded thick.

“Want a drink?” He asked. You were quiet. He pressed on. “Figured it was better than drinkin’ alone.”

He gave you a minute and was about to give up on you responding when he heard small creaks on the other side of the door before it opened.

“Whatcha got?”

It took a few whiskeys before you stopped being quite so stiff at his kitchen table and Joel pulled out a deck of cards that had to have been old before the world fell apart but had somehow managed to stay complete.

“Game’s Gin,” he said, dealing. “Remember how to play?”

You rolled your eyes.

“I’m not a total idiot, Miller.”

It was strange, drinking around you. Spending time with you in ways that weren’t required, being able to look at you in ways beyond brief, desperate glances driven by the subconscious need to never, ever forget just how you looked. The precise way your eyes were shaped or your brow arched or lips curved, the exact shade of your skin and your hair and your eyes. Because as much as he didn’t want to need these things, he did. He needed to know these parts of you the way a scholar needed to know his subject, with this obsessive, aching drive for more.

It had never been enough before, the little pieces he was able to collect when you and Tess were distracted with other things and he could take in the new way your skin creased around your eyes, and it somehow wasn’t enough now, memorizing the way you pursed your lips as you organized your hand and the way your hair had fallen out of the braid that was tight against your skull.

“Need somethin’ to change into?” Joel asked eventually.

“Hm?” You looked at him over your cards.

“Just…” he nodded to you. “Still wearin’ what you were when we came back from the run. Need somethin’ to change into?”

“Oh,” you looked down at yourself and then shrugged. “I mean, I won’t argue with it but I don’t want to put you out. It’s not like anyone’s getting close enough to smell me. Oh God, please tell me you can’t smell me from across the table…”

“No, Kid,” he laughed a little and took a sip of whiskey. “Can’t… can’t smell you.”

He wondered if, below the grime of the world outside, you still smelled like lavender.

“If you’ve got some stuff I can borrow then,” you shrugged before grabbing a card. Your face lit up a bit and you set a card down before fanning out your cards in front of you. “Gin.”

“Well shit,” he said, looking over your cards. “You win.”

Day 3

He left you something to wear outside your door.

Joel stared at the wall most of the night, telling himself it was because the fucking bullet hole was hurting more than it had been but that was bullshit. It had faded to a dull pain, one that was easily tolerable and certainly not enough to keep him up at night.

No, instead he stared at the wall that he knew you were just beyond. His mind went over and over your face again and again, logging every single facet so he’d know the next time he was away from you for a while. But that wasn’t enough, either. He wanted to hear you breathing as you slept, wanted to salt away that information, too. He needed it, needed to add it to his collection of you.

But you were out of reach. Asleep in his brother’s bed, the place where you’d chosen to be all those years ago and now left Joel wondering if you’d ever really left. If you’d ever have chosen Joel at all or if he’d just been a stop gap, a thing keeping you from Tommy all this time.

It would have made sense, when he considered it. You were always softer and more open than Joel, always more like Tommy in that way. Maybe all he’d ever been was a placeholder.

He was still awake when he heard you get up in the morning, heard you pause at the door before going to the bathroom and starting the shower.

He hoped he’d find your hair in his shower later.

Your hair was down and wet when you emerged, cautiously coming into the kitchen where Joel was making the shittiest excuse for coffee with instant packets that had expired so long ago it seemed like a miracle there was anything usable at all. You were in one of his flannels and sweatpants, the legs cuffed so you wouldn’t trip, your arms crossed tight over yourself.

“Morning,” you said, glancing at him like he was a predator and you were prey.

“Morning,” he said. “Feelin’ better?”

“Yes, actually,” you said. He held a mug out to you and you took it with a slight frown. “Thank you.”

He just nodded stiffly.

“If you want to lie down,” you nodded toward the couch. “I can check your dressings again. The good news is, this might be the last time I really need to do it so…”

Joel shrugged and obeyed, trying not to think about the sense of panic that flared in his chest at the thought of you not touching him anymore.

It was something Joel had found almost impossible to hold within himself. There was this constant yearning, a pull towards you that was as persistent as gravity and twice as strong. He needed to be close enough to touch you, hold you, protect you. He needed to be close enough to love you.

But standing in sharp contrast was the cold threat of you. The painful grip of it always there at the edges when he lived too long in the memory of loving you. It was a cruel and constant thing - one of the few constants Joel had found in his life in the QZ. He could let his mind wander to the memory of you asleep in his arms but, linger there too long, and the memory shifted to you pale and bleeding and nearly dead as he ran with your broken body to the clinic. The thought of you laughing all full and free with your hand on his chest would twist into you reaching for him and screaming as you were dragged away by raiders. Hell, spend too long trying to savor the memory of being deep inside you, the look on your face as you came undone under his touch, and his mind pulled him down into what McCarthy had described doing to you years ago.

All it took was a second, a moment of Joel not protecting you when he should and you could wind up there again. He didn’t know how to live with that. He wasn’t sure he’d ever figured out how to live with loving you at a distance, either. Something that had become harsh and clear in the days the two of you had been locked down in his apartment.

“This is looking good,” you said, nodding to yourself. Your hands were on his stomach. “Think I can trust you not to fuck it up from here, don’t need me messing around with it anymore…”

You got up and held your hand out, helping Joel sit up without pulling too much at his wound.

“Thanks,” he said. “For making sure I don’t drop dead.”

“Yeah, well,” you shrugged. “It’s what I do.”

You gave him a tight smile and went back down the hall, Joel frowning after you for a moment before following. He knocked on the door and he heard you sigh before opening it a few seconds later.

“Yes?”

“Don’t…” Joel realized he didn’t really have a good reason to be standing at your door. “Don’t have to keep hidin’ in here. Sure you’re going stir crazy… Just come out here and…”

“Do you really think that’s a good idea?” You asked, brows raised. “We’ve managed to not kill each other so far, I don’t know that we want to push it.”

“You really think being in the same room is gonna be pushing it?”

You laughed a little and crossed your arms protectively over yourself.

“Honestly? Yeah, kind of. I mean, Joel, come on. This is the most time we’ve spent together just the two of us since my first trip outside the QZ and we both know how that ended…”

“Yeah,” Joel scoffed, his blood getting hot as he saw you standing there, in his brother’s room, next to his brother’s bed. “Ended with you hating me and jumping into bed with my fuckin’ brother…”

“Jesus Christ, you cannot be serious,” you pinched the bridge of your nose. “Joel…”

“What?” He propped an arm against the door frame, holding himself back from stalking into Tommy’s old room like he wanted to. “That not what fuckin’ happened? You all but disappear for months and the next thing I know you’re with him. What was it, hm? Was I just who you settled for because you thought he wasn’t interested? That it?”

“No!”

“You just waitin’ for a chance to…”

“I was only with him because you left!”

You yelled it at him. You so rarely yelled, usually so measured and soft and kind in damn near everything you did. He went quiet, the silence hanging heavy between you.

“Do you think I was interested in him before?” You asked, quieter this time. “It was always you, Joel. From the day I met you, it was always you and you’re the one who left me. You’re the one who made me live without you after you made me love you and you don’t get to judge me for what I did to survive you hating me. Yeah, I probably fucked up with Tommy, by having him be anything more than a friend but I was so alone because you made me be so alone! You left me, Joel! I’m sorry I didn’t sit there and wait for you to decide you gave a shit again, I’m sorry I tried to find some semblance of a life without you because losing you was going fucking kill me if I didn’t! So stop holding Tommy against me, stop blaming me for what I had to do to survive losing you, what I’m still doing to survive losing you, because out of all the shitty things that have happened in my life that might just be the worst one!”

Your eyes were shiny with tears and you were standing closer to him than he’d really realized until that moment and his hands were on your skin before he fully understood what he was doing. All he knew was he needed to touch you, feel you, taste you.

His lips were on yours and swallowed the small, surprised squeak that slipped from you as he kissed you, mouth hot and needy against you.

He’d expected you to push him back, to be mad or hurt. Instead, you threw your arms around his neck, body curving and arching into his. Your fingers tangled and knotted in his hair and you pressed yourself so tightly against him that he could feel every line of you through his clothes.

“Joel,” you pulled away from him ever so slightly, sounding needy and breathless. “We shouldn’t do this…”

“Why.”

“We don’t work,” you tugged him closer but kept your lips from him. “We just hurt each other. And you have Tess, I have Derek, it’s not…”

“Tell me you don’t want this,” he cut you off, his eyes searching yours. “Tell me to stop and I’ll stop.”

For half a moment, Joel thought you were going to. But you didn’t. Instead, you kissed him again, a sense of urgency on your lips, like you were trying to devour him and he longed for you to swallow him up until there was nothing left.

He pulled you into the hall, pressing you back against the wall and ignoring the pain at his hip when he did. In that moment, he didn’t care if it killed him. He needed to be inside you, to feel you close and tight around him. Being without you now would be a more painful end than ripping himself open inside, what difference did a bullet hole make?

Joel pushed his leg from his uninjured side between your knees, shoving them apart and pulling your hips down on his thigh. You ground down against him and moaned into his mouth as you worked your core on his leg.

“Fuck,” you breathed, pulling ever so slightly away from him, your pupils blown and lips swollen. “Joel, you’re hurt, we shouldn’t…”

“Don’t care,” he pressed his mouth to your throat, earning him a delicious moan that hung in his ears like syrup on the tongue. “Need you, Baby. Need you so fuckin’ bad…”

You clutched yourself closer to him, rocking your hips on him as he pulled you back from the wall and maneuvered you to his room, his bed, the place he woke up every day and looked for you, some part of his subconscious knowing that he belonged next to you.

Your fingers pulled at his shirt, tugging it up and over his head before casting it aside and he nudged you onto the bed, taking his shirt off your body, too.

“Joel…” you were sitting back on your elbows, the soft fullness of your chest bared to him as he crawled between your legs. “I can’t… I can’t do this and go back to being nothing to you, Joel, I can’t…”

He looked in your eyes, a pain in them that he found sadly familiar now but it was harsher than he was used to, like you couldn’t keep it contained now so it was laid bare.

“Oh, Baby,” he breathed, his hands finding your waist. You closed your eyes at his touch, breath catching in your throat. “You’re everything to me, everything. Always have been.”

His lips moved to your throat, kissing and biting at the tender skin there as he pulled your pants down and off, you lifting your hips to help before putting your hand down his front to take hold of his cock with a moan. Joel moaned, too. He couldn’t help it, your touch was burned into his memory, what he longed for more than anything else and you were touching him. Your thumb grazed the head of his cock and he shuddered at the contact, whole body on fire with aching and desperate want.

“Need you,” he panted into your lips. “Fuck, need inside you…”

“Good,” you pressed your body against his and he felt his head graze your soft mound. “Because I need you, too. Never stopped…”

He kissed you and pushed you into the bed before pressing his cock into your wet heat. You moaned as you took him into yourself, your back arching. You were so warm and tight around him, Joel had to focus to not come from just the feel of your body clutching onto him.

“Goddamn,” he looked down to where he was buried in you to the root, your fingers sinking into his bicep as you panted for breath. He could feel you breathing, feel your heartbeat from inside you. Why had he wasted so much of his life fighting this when he could have been with you instead? In that moment - when he was buried deep inside of you and he could feel you everywhere, in everything - the fear he’d been so desperately fighting against faded to nothing. There was just you and everything you held, the whole of all his wanting looking up at him in quiet desperation. “Forgot… forgot just how good you feel, holy fuck.”

“Need you to move,” your nails dug into his arm. “Fuck, please Joel, need you to move, please…”

He wasn’t about to say no, even as your already tight walls clenched around him. He dropped his head to your chest and pulled out of you almost entirely, until just his head was left within you, before thrusting back in hard and deep. He kissed you again as he did, swallowing your needy sounds.

Joel tried to hold back, the echo of some pain in his body and his mind, but he was too overwhelmed by you for it to last long. You met his every thrust, working your hips back up against his own as he fucked into you.

“Fuck, Joel,” you wrapped one arm around his shoulders, digging your fingertips into his skin as he felt you getting so tight around him it almost hurt. “Fuck, I’m gonna… Joel, I’m gonna come, I can’t…”

“Do it,” he slid an arm below your waist and pulled you tight and flush to his body, needing to feel as much of your skin as he possibly could. “Come for me, come for me, Baby, need to feel you, have to feel you, fuck Baby…”

You whimpered and keened as your tight channel pulsed around his thick cock, squeezing him so tight it was like your body was pulling his own orgasm out of him.

“I’m comin’ Baby,” he pressed into you deep and hard and you clung to him as he came undone, emptying himself into you. “I’m comin’, fuck, I’m comin’ so fucking hard, Goddamn…”

He collapsed on top of you, his cock still twitching inside you. He couldn’t remember the last time he came that hard, felt quite that drained when he was done. His head rested on your chest, your heartbeat heavy against his cheek as your fingers trailed through his hair and his cock softened inside you.

“Fuck,” he was still panting for breath when he pressed a kiss to your breast bone and slid from your body, the pain at his hip suddenly back with a vengeance, as he collapsed beside you.

“We shouldn’t have done that,” you said quietly, turning your head to look at him.

“Baby…”

“We shouldn’t,” you said, your voice thick. “You’re hurt…”

“Good think you’re a doctor.”

You glared at him.

“We just blew up our entire lives, Joel,” you said quietly, eyes wet. “I’m with Derek and I just fucked you because, what, you loved me once and felt bad letting me get shot in the QZ? This was stupid, this was so…”

“No,” he shook his head.

“No?” You raised your eyebrows at him. “No what?”

“No to all of it,” he said. “I didn’t blow up a damn thing. I just finally was able to admit to myself that there isn’t anything to blow up without you, don’t want any of it without you.”

“Joel…”

“Been too scared of it all to admit that,” he pressed on. “But I can’t keep living like that, Baby. I can’t. And I don’t think you can, either.

“We’ve already wasted too much damn time,” he continued. “But I’m not wasting another minute of it, not when I could be with you. Not sayin’ there’s not shit to figure out - pretty sure we got a decade’s worth of it - but don’t ask me to waste more time. Please. Not when it comes to you.”

Your eyes held his as you reached a hand forward and carefully, delicately, cupped his cheek, your thumb tracing his cheekbone. He brushed his lips against the inside of your wrist, feeling the flutter of your pulse against his mouth.

“Think we can figure it out?” You asked. You sounded so uncertain, so afraid.

Joel’s large hand covered your own, holding you against his chin.

“Yeah,” he said quietly. “With you, think we can figure anything out.”

#fanfic #joel miller x female reader #send asks #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #lavender #smut fic #joel miller x oc

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