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thewritergx · 5 months ago

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Jackson: Joel Miller x F!Reader: Part 1

Summary: Sat 1 year after Ellie and Joel find a home in Jackson. Joel is plagued with thoughts of ruining the sweet girl his brother rescued. A series of Joel destroying all your innocence.

Warnings: Mentions of guns. Knife use. Smut Containing: Age Gap (Joel is 57, undisclosed age for reader but I picture her around 28). Praise Kink, Kissing, Fingering, Gentle Dom!Joel, Innocent Reader, Virgin Reader. Its giving corruption kink, lowkey free use kink at times. So many pet names I can’t even list them out.

Word Count: 5.5K

EXPLICIT SEXUAL CONTENT. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Please feel free to like and repost. Click Here if you’d like more stories from me. Text divider from @plum98. Text Color Generator. If you'd like more Joel Miller stories, please go check out @pearlessance.

If Joel Miller had been told a year ago that he would be finding solace comfort between the legs of a woman half his age, he would have laughed until all the air in his lungs was depleted, leaving him bright red in the face. The last thing Joel ever considered himself was a ‘dilf’ but behind the impenetrable walls of Jackson, you were clinging onto him like he was made of the finest metals. A handful of gold and pearls in your unwavering grip.

He never meant for it to turn out this way. He didn’t mean to have you accidentally clenched around his fingers in an anguished void of eroticism. Yet there he was, dismantling every particle of decency he had remaining in his traumatized psyche.

Joel wasn’t sure why he was so intrigued by you. He couldn't point it to a singular trait or moment in time. Maybe you made him feel young again, like a teenage hot for teacher. Maybe it was the way your eyes wrinkled slightly when you smiled up at him. Maybe it was the way you leaned into his touches, no matter how faint. All he knew was that the sound of your voice stimulated his body with a deadly erotic static every time he spoke to you. Forbidden and illicit as your lips brushed against his.

Joel and Ellie had just begun settling in the new city when you showed up. It was a dull morning, the sun just starting to rise over the horizon as snow drizzled down the frozen air. Joel had been sitting on his newly furnished porch, polishing a rifle to perfection and sipping on a piping hot coffee. His tired eyes fluttered closed, warm steam from his mug hitting his face. He was never a fan of the cold, having grown up under the hot Texas sun, but he was starting to find peace in the frigid atmosphere. His usual racing mind was void, an uncommon and strange occurrence since the outbreak began. He allowed himself half a second of relaxation, his broad shoulders easing into a rickety vintage chair.

Even in this secure environment, he knew not to let himself get too comfortable. Startled by the image of his brother’s wobbling tracks against the snowy ground, his eyes widened. Tommy’s slender strides buckled. It looked like he was carrying something. Something Joel couldn't quite make out from the distance between them. He stood on alert, his coffee almost spilling as he slammed the porcelain mug on a feeble side table. Joel stomped through the arctic powder, a white-knuckled grip on his rifle. Tommy struggled to keep going, falling to his knees with a hard ‘thud’. Joel swore he felt his heart stop. The only audible sound was his blood vessels restricting, the air in his lungs hindered by his hasty steps. Tommy was never a weak man, but the time spent walking back to camp, the weight in his arms, and the heavy snowfall had exhausted him to the point of complete collapse.

“Tommy!” The concern in Joel’s tone was palpable, his strong arms grabbing his brother. Joel snaked his hands under Tommy’s shoulders, supporting his weight and pulling him from the soiled ground. Finally, Joel could recognize the undisclosed package in Tommy’s grip. A girl. She looked freezing, her cheeks a bright red and slow breaths crackled.

“Fuck, give her to me.” Joel’s heart pounded, rushing to take you in his arms. You were feather-like in his arms, weightless as he pressed you against his chest. The thin jacket you wore hardly provided any fight against the icy rain that trickled down but Joel had hoped his body heat would be enough to provide some type of warmth. He rushed you to the infirmary, his stride incalculable and unstoppable. He had practically thrown you inside, placing you under multiple layers of thick blankets. You looked almost peaceful, but your body was shivering and your skin a ghostly pale white.

Time passed and Joel, along with Tommy, had spent days at your bedside. They had made sure you were taken care of, helping you drink water, and making sure you got enough to eat. Strangely, Tommy was thankful for the practice, knowing a new baby was waiting for him at home. Once you had recovered and could leave the infirmary, you really didn’t have any other place to go except Joel’s. Tommy had found you alone in the woods, but he had just started his own family. Plus, It didn’t really feel right leaving Joel after he had watched you at your worst. Alone and with no other choices, you moved into the spare bedroom right down the hall from him and Ellie.

This particular day had been one straight from his most lustful nightmares. Like every day, he was in charge of weapon maintenance, foot patrol, and a newer annoyance. Training new recruits. Joel had not given much thought to teaching the younger members of Jackson how to protect themselves. But he was glad he could be of some use, especially with the way certain members still looked at him like he was a threat. Like he might bust down the doors in a blaze of ranging gunfire at any moment. He tried his best to build new connections, build a new life for Ellie and himself. A life his brother would be proud of. In the newfound dystopia he had begun to call home, he never expected you to be so motivating. You were a lot like him in certain ways. Quiet. Unapproachable. This made Joel want to do good, guarantee you were proud of him.

For the last three months, you had haunted the halls of what was once Joel’s newly perfect home. As perfect as you could these days, anyway. You were always lurking. Your tight little body sprawled out on the couch, your hair fallen forgotten in the bathroom sink, your toothbrush in the same cup as his. It was too much for an old man’s fatigued heart to take.

To make matters worse, Joel was in charge of training you. Every day, it was shooting, hand-to-hand combat, or teaching you how to use makeshift medical supplies. He hated admitting it, even to himself, but teaching you how to shoot a gun might have been the best thing left in this godforsaken world.

Joel would stand close behind you, wrapping his fingers around your hands to help you aim better. He would try to ignore it, but the way your tiny hands gripped the gun under his fingers was enough to spring his cock to life. He wondered if you could feel it pressed against your back as he leaned down, lowering his voice. His breath would be all hot and slow in your ear while he told you what a good job you were doing. You always tried to keep your reactions to his words internal, but god some days all you wanted was for him to press you against the wall and trap you against him as he explored your body with his calloused hands. Surely, he had to know. He had to sense how much you loved it, the simplest of touches having you weak in the knees.

Despite Joel's love for the shooting range, bullets couldn’t be wasted and through his discontent, you were a surprisingly great shot. That meant today’s focus was hand-to-hand combat. A special type of torment in which you quickly grew fond of. You worked on blocking punches, throwing someone off you, and other easy ways to stab the infected. This kind of practice often required Joel to push you around, grab you tight against him, or hover his full body weight above you.

Joel huffed, his chest expanding with each heavy breath as he laid under you, his muscles firming around your strong grip on you pinned his arms down.

“Ya learn quick,” he grunted, bending his knee to lock you in place as you sat atop him. This was one of the moments when he couldn’t stop picturing you naked. He imagined the way your tits would bounce in this position, perfect for him to wrap his hand around your throat or gently slap your cheek.

You pushed off him, holding a hand up as he struggled to pick himself up off the ground.

“Yeah well, you’re a good teacher”. You rolled your eyes, taking his hand in yours and balancing your weighing as you helped him off the plush grass.

“Yeah. Alright, square up. Let's go again, darlin” Joel stood in front of you, tightly wielding a sharp knife in his hands. He was always giving you pet names like that, the words falling from his lips and landing between your legs like rain. You watched as his jaw clenched, muscles in his arms flexing as he threw a jab at you. You swerved your body, quicking jumping out of the way and hitting the knife out of his hands. The blade landed with a thud, leaving Joel weaponless.

“Yes! See, that was perfect.” Joel smiled, his broad shoulders spreading as he stretched his arms out. He wasn’t lying, you learned far quicker than he liked to admit, the end of your training with him just a few weeks away. “That's enough for today. Gettin’ kinda late”. Joel patted your back, a simple praise of how well you performed.

All Joel really wanted at this moment was to get you underneath him, and not in the “pretend to fight me off” type of way. In a way that would have you whimpering his name and your legs quivering.

He tried to keep the invasive urges at bay, forcing himself as far away from you as the enclosed space of Jackson would allow. Even after avoiding you until dusk, your touch lingered on him like a parasite, eating at his tanned skin until it was all mushy and broken. He would be successful for a brief time, maybe even until the morning if he was lucky. Training you every day was gradually unraveling him. Bit by bit until he was losing control, a constant internal conflict raging inside himself. He could stay at a distance for now, but in the end, he could never truly escape you.

For you, that evening had gone by so painfully slow, your body begging for some type of release. You had slipped into a comfortable pair of panties, the material hugging your ass softly. You lazily threw on an oversized t-shirt and crawled under the thick blankets of your bed, heavy as a bag of rocks thrown down the stairs. The bed was warm and through exhaustion, your eyes quivered closed. Flashes of Joel’s hands on you, pinning you down and throwing you around invaded your thoughts. All the training along with your daily tasks had depleted every ounce of your strength, but Joel sent a jolting rush of stamina through your nervous system.

You let yourself lean into your desires, lethargically reaching your hands down to the bundle of nerves insistent on your affection. Any other day you might have been strong enough to ignore the ache, but today you were weak. Today you were consumed by it. Your hands found your panties in a pathetic desperation, a faint wet spot darkening the material at your core as you began to rub merciful circles. You bit your lip, a jagged inarticulate sound escaping. Your fingers moved delicately, needy and wet from an entire day of training, your subconscious daydreaming to get back into your room and play with yourself.

The only problem with this was you weren't really any good at it. You knew how it worked, all the parts, and what you were supposed to do with them. You just couldn't reach the ‘end’ that so many people raved about. You tried an endless amount of times, even thought about hooking up with random guys you had stumbled upon in the past. But it never felt right, forcing yourself to be with someone just because they were the only one around. You had decided the high that other women described must have been a complete lie. Still, you learned different angles, different ways to finger yourself, and all types of tricks. Something was always missing, an extra sensation that would push you over the edge always out of reach.

Your index and middle finger created a slight friction on your clit, a rough buttery sensation against your panties. Goosebumps formed across your body as you feebly slid the restricting cotton down, spreading your legs to give yourself better access to pleasure. You added some spit to your fingers, a hushed wail slipping as you continued making small circles, biting your bottom lip harder and throwing your head back. You shut your eyes tight, the sound of Joel telling you ‘Good girl, that's perfect’ and all his other innocent compliments replaying. You sped your movements up, adding more pressure to the sensitive nerves. It felt adequate, but you knew it wouldn’t last. You needed more. Delicately, you dipped your finger inside your crying pussy. Your walls gripped around your finger, sucking it in further like it was starving. You curled the digit, trying to hit that spot that was just out of range. You hardly grazed it, your g-spot unobtainable. After a lengthy time of great strive your finger became slick, drowned in your juices but nowhere closer to the finish line. You groaned, your arms already becoming tired from the relentless pumping.

“Ya know, you’re doin’ that totally wrong.” A familiar voice spoke out from the dim light of the room, a dark silhouette basked in moonlight.

You threw your blankets over you, jumping under the covers and removing your fingers quickly. You stared, frozen. Even in the dark with shadows hiding his facial features, you could make Joel out. Your mouth fell agape as Joel stood against the wall, his weight on his back foot. He crossed his toned arms across his chest condescendingly, watching in silence.

“Oh my god! You scared the fuck out of me. What are you doing?” You spoke fast, voice revealing how obviously embarrassing the interaction was.

“Couldn’t sleep. Head a noise. Thought you were cryin’. Came to check on ya.” Joel took a step closer, his eyes dark and eyebrows furrowed in a slight frown. “Didn’t mean to interrupt but…I can see you’re strugglin’ I can help…If you want.”

You racked your brain to find the words adequate enough to articulate your racing mind, watching as Joel stood, shirtless and chest completely exposed. You could see him now, the muscles in his arms, the scar where he stabbed. God, you didn't get to see him like this nearly enough. In fact, now that you thought about it, you weren't sure if you had ever seen him shirtless at all. Greying hair lightly peppered his chest, a trail running from his belly button to the clothed fabric around his waist. You were nearly drooling, his boxers hugging his thighs.

“I-I”. Your chest rose and fell, your heart beating quicker than you were used to as you tried to make sense of his words. “H-help me ho-how?”

“Been standin’ here for a while. You're not comfortable enough, ya need to relax. To be honest, ya look scared,” Joel chuckled, his face a bit flushed but words nonchalant and composed. “I consider myself a pro in this area. I could show ya how to make it better.”

“I know how to do it”, you snapped. You cut your eyes at him, a sudden rush of anger slapping you in the face. Who was he to tell you how to masturbate? He didn't own a vagina. You doubted he could do it better than you.

Joel peered deep into your eyes, his stance at attention like a soldier in formation. He wasn’t going to budge. You knew he didn't believe you, not if he really had been watching like he said.

“Okay then, little girl. Show me…if you're so good at it”. Joel stood in place, like a stone unmovable.

You felt pathetic, peering up at him with white-hot embarrassment. A switch broke and you had given in so easily. You didn’t put up a fight for a second, your core pleading for your attention to return to the earlier movements. “O-Okay”, you whined, laying back down and moving the blanket towards the foot of the bed. You let yourself diminish into the mattress completely, your body on view for him. You trembled, silently spreading your legs and scooping up the wetness dripping out of you. You placed your finger back inside, humming at the little pleasure it gave you.

Joel let out a groan “That’s a good girl. Play with that pussy for me”. The tone in his voice was new to you, smooth like he had just drunk a hot tea. His jaw clenched shut, teeth clashing tight as sounds of your wetness vibrated off the walls. He wondered how often this occurred, how many times he slept through your cries of need. He moved across the room with a leisurely pace, sitting on the edge of the bed as he watched you sprawled out in front of him, body hypnotizing him. You felt the bed sag under his weight, achingly close but untouchable. You curled your finger more, listening to his hitched breathing and closing your eyes again. It was strange, him watching you like this. You tried your hardest to hit the right spot, letting out a huff of frustration and reluctantly removing your fingers, making circles around your clit again. It was clear to both of you. You had no idea what you were doing.

Usually, Joel preferred his women experienced, liked them a little loose and pre-used. He could be rougher that way, less careful, and more spontaneous. But fuck, you looked so fucking pretty, begging to cum but unable to do anything about it. He was sure he died and woke up in his personal heaven.

Fuck, he couldn't believe he was doing this. He was supposed to be the man keeping you safe, not the one sneaking into your bedroom at night and making a mess of you. Joel hummed, watching the slight shake in your legs grow with anticipation of a climax you would never reach on your own.

Before you could stop him, too focused on proving him wrong and torturing the both of you, he was gently grabbing your wrist and pulling your hand away from your aching pussy.

“Just let me... know ya need me. You were sayin’ my name, ya know?” The look in his eyes had changed from a hungry desire to a desperate soft plea, his voice a whisper in the suffocating quiet of the bedroom. He never had to be this cautious before, never really paying much mind to what his actions might result in.

You thought for a moment, looking into Joel’s eyes for any sense of danger. He didn’t turn away, didn’t loosen his grip. But in his eyes, you could see it, helpless wanting. His shoulders dropped as he waited for any type of response that would allow him to come closer.

“O-Okay,” you whined, “t-thank you”.

Joel crept forward, sympathetically hooking his arms around your waist and pulling you closer. Your back rested against his chest, legs on either side of his muscled thighs. His skin was smooth, warm like a campfire and his breath on your neck heated you even more under the chill of the snowy mountains. Throughout the months of getting to know the unmerciful brooding man, you had never gotten the opportunity to be this close, this intertwined.

“Like this, soft and slow” Joel whispered, positioning his fingers on the sides of your swollen lips. He moved unhurriedly like he had pressed a button and frozen time around you. In his mind, he never had to leave this room, all the time in the world to watch you fall apart. Tactfully he spread your lips apart to reveal the slick wetness leaking out of you.

“Fuck.” Three fingers hovered above your clit, the motions tender as they moved in repeated circles “What's got ya all worked up, pretty girl?” The pads of his fingertips absorbed the saliva you had paced there moments ago.

“Nothing,” you swallowed, your words already strained in the back of your throat. Despite your earlier presumption, Joel could do this better than you. He was proving you wrong each time his fingers slid across, shockwaves forcing you to admit defeat.

Joel hummed, watching his fingers soak in your juices. “Think it was probably me, huh?”

Shane crept up on your skin, your cheeks impossibly more flushed. You shouldn’t admit it. That it was him. That it was his words.“I-I…just like the way you talk to me, is all.” The words came out a strained whine, leaning into him and spreading your legs wider, watching his delicate fingers dancing across your needy skin.

“Yeah? Ya like when I tell you what a good job you're doin’? What a good girl ya are?” His voice was so light, his Texas accent almost innocent. Like he was talking to a baby.

“Y-yeah”, you nodded your head, the simple four-letter word feeling like a monologue as you spoke them.

“I do it ‘cuz I know ya like it”. Joel listened to the way you responded to his touch. He had to get this perfect. Had to make sure you knew he was more than capable of handling your little ‘problem’.

Quiet ‘ohs’ quickly streamed from you, Joel’s fingers melting you into him. You tried to keep quiet, hoping no one could hear you through the thin walls of the house. Joel silently prayed that Ellie was already asleep, his heartbeat thudding at the thought of her finding out what was going on in the room a few feet across from her.

Joel quickened his pace, your clit swollen around his fingers, thick arousal coating them. He hummed into your neck, and you tensed. “Relax”, was all Joel had to say for you to nod your head and stretch your neck out. His lips feel to the exposed skin, placing serene kisses under your ear. He left a burning hot trail with his lips, his beard brushing against the delicate skin. He sucked a bright red spot where he felt you liked it the most, low enough for your shirt to mostly cover but still marking you his. The added sensation caused you to stir your hips, your legs and hands shaking.

“Try and stay still, baby. Keep movin’ like that and you're gonna drive me crazy,” Joel mumbled, his free hand wrapped tight around your waist.

Joel dragged that hand up your body, placing it tenderly on your cheek. He turned your head as much as your neck would allow, a loud moan falling out of you as he brushed his lips against yours. His tongue danced liberally inside your mouth. Your perfect plump lips parted for him without a hint of hesitation, mint and beer thick on your tastebuds. His mustache kind of tickled, the hair grazing your lips. You tried to breathe through your nose as Joel sucked your bottom lip into his mouth, fingers still determined on shattering your sanity. You couldn’t remember the last time you kissed anyone, warm saliva spreading across your mouth and chin. You felt drunk against him, almost powerless in his grip.

Joel pulled away, a growl escaping him as you breathed heavily against him. “Goddamn. That’s my sweet girl”. You swallowed hard at his words, a sense of pride filling you.

“Can I put a finger in you, darlin’?” Joel slowed his circles, reaching lower, finally gathering as much of your natural lube as he could. He was collected, so much more confident than you.

You shook your head, a hesitant ‘yes, please’ was all you could respond. You were positive you looked a mess, but something told you Joel didn’t care.

Joel hummed, “Yeah? Do me a favor then, sweetheart.” Joel brought his hand to your mouth, fingers lingering on your lips. “Get those nice and wet for me”.

You hesitated, looking back at Joel to find his brown irises, darker and glazed over more than that usual. You self-consciously wrapped your lips around his fingers, only spreading your lips enough to fit them inside. Your teeth grazed against him, the rough pads of his fingers dancing across your tongue. They left a taste of your bitter-salty arousal thick on your tastebuds.

“That’s it. You always listen to me so well”. Joel’s cock twitched at the view of your cheeks hollowing around him. It was bizarre how kindhearted he presented himself, his usual rough exterior completely gone. You wondered if this was the real Joel, one no one else got to see.

Joel watched as he slowly pumped his fingers in and out, spit coating down to his knuckles. His breathing grew ragged, watching your eyes grow dark with lust as he hit the back of your throat. He studied your reaction, your eyes growing wider at the sensation of being so full. You strained, a muted cough slipping from you as he shoved them persistently deeper. You were taking them well, even through the obvious struggle.

Joel removed his fingers from your warm mouth, slick and shiny with a mix of your spit and slick. He lowered his hand to your clit again. Hesitantly, with eyes glued between your legs again, he slipped one finger past your folds and inside your velvet walls. You sucked in a deep breath at the feeling, startled as he curled his index finger. It was so much thicker, longer than yours and the gentle stretch flowed through your veins like water on a hot summer day.

“How’s that feel?” Joel tried not to focus on how fucking tight you were, his mind daydreaming of what you would feel like wrapped around him, all fucked out on his bed.

“Oh god,” you whined, voice shakier than you wanted it to be, and your hips returned back to that involuntary bucking. “G-good”. His finger brushed against your G-spot, little cries echoing in Joel’s ear. This was what you were missing all these years. A real man’s touch.

“I know, baby girl. I know. Gonna take such good care of ya, just like I always have” Joel placed a kiss on your shoulder, his finger pumping in and out at a controlled speed. His movements were like a drug, clouding your judgment. “Think you take another? Or is this too much already?”.

“P-please”, You tried not to beg too much, the pathetic whine in your voice striking Joel like a punch to the gut. Fuck, he would do anything you said right now. Anything.

“Always so determined,” Joel smirked, hypervirulently aware that you probably hadn’t taken this much before. Cautiously, he dipped a second finger inside you, stretching you with a heavenly sting. It was unfamiliar but invited and your body sucked him in further. It was more than your fingers could ever do and suddenly you understood why sex ruled everyone’s lives.

A wet sloppy sound filled the room and Joel pumped his fingers with a presentation purpose, a hint of strength behind each minuscule gesture. Joel growled, spreading your legs wider and pulling you further into him, fully in his lap now. You felt his bulge press against your back rock hard. You couldn't stop imagining how big he was. It felt so thick against you, like a 9.mm gun in his waistband.

His fingers were a velvet robe encasing you. It was almost too much and you felt an uncomfortable heat building in the pit of your stomach. Joel felt you clench tighter around him and he knew you were close. “There you go, sweetheart”.

“Oh fuck, wait wait wait.” You tried your hardest not to scream, but the squelching sounds Joel’s fingers created were pushing you over the edge.

You felt the man under you tense up, every fiber of his muscles firming. Regrettably, he stopped the movement of his fingers, leaving them frozen inside.

“What's wrong? You okay?” A thick hint of concern or maybe fear just behind his words.

“I-I…kind of felt like I was gonna pee, is all.” your cheeks flushed, burning with unease.

Joel hummed, moving his fingers again and ripping moans from you. “That’s good,” Joel chuckled, focused on keeping his fingers at a constant pace, “Means it’s workin”. He placed a hot trail of kisses down your neck again, biting at the skin.

You moaned at his words, that unfamiliar heat steadily finding its way back into you. Your legs shook almost uncontrollably, and you had to grip onto Joel's forearm to keep from slipping off his thighs.

“That’s it. Feel how you're clenchin’ ‘round me, gettin’ all wet and shaky under me?” You nodded at his words. “Just relax into me, baby girl.” You arched your back, biting your lip in a desperate attempt to keep yourself from screaming out.

The feeling of needing to pee was replaced with something unnamable crashing through your entire body. “Yes, oh my god!” you cried, throwing your head back and bucking your hips up into his hand.

“That’s it. Cum on my fuckin’ fingers,” Joel kept his moments sharp, making sure to coax out every drop the orgasm had to offer. After your shaking stopped and your cries settled back down, he eased his fingers out of you. Your arousal leaked down your core, a puddle forming under your ass onto the exposed skin of Joel’s thigh.

“Did so good,” Joel kissed your cheek, rubbing small circles on your clit again as you cried out. He grabbed your hand, kissing your fingers and trailing up your arms until he settled past your shoulder and into your neck.

“Oh, fuck. Thank you, Joel”. You weren't sure why you felt the need to thank him, but you had to make sure you said it.

“You’re welcome, darlin’. Know I'd do anything for ya, right?” His voice was soft and airy, slightly out of breath.

You tried to focus on his words, your orgasm still thick in your mind. You closed your eyes, a wave of exhaustion hitting you like a brick wall. You nodded your head silently, lips parting as your heavy chest rose and fell.

Joel smiled, he didn't even need to be inside you to feel euphoria. Being close, just talking to you was enough. Sex was just an added pleasure. But, fuck, he couldn't wait to show you more. He wanted to completely ruin you. He was a terrible person, he thought, but he didn't care at all. Not with the way you breathed against him, your head heavy on his chest as your eyes fluttered closed.

It would be weird to stay, Joel thought. As he silently watched your chest expand against him, the thought occurred that he might get too used to this, already craving to rewire you into a whining slut. A little toy he could at any time. He was stressed, overworked, and constantly worried about Ellie. About you. Maybe he had finally found a way to release some of that pressure, even for a moment. Joel ran his thick fingers through your hair, admiring the way your body benignly twitched at the sensation.

Sleep came and went in waves for Joel. Some nights, if he was so exhausted and worn out from a hard day of work, you could hear his snoring echoing through the docile home. Other nights you woke up to the sound of screams and then an earth-shattering quiet. Like he yelled so hard he woke himself up too. The mornings after a night like that always resulted in a moody, quiet Joel. Like his mind was racing with so many visions he couldn’t even speak. But right now, Joel’s mind raced with different thoughts. Less violent but just as powerful and forsaken. He wondered how far you would let him go with this little game. Maybe he could show you all the tricks he had built up over the years, all his experience preparing him for this. Leading up to please you. To make you his. It was wrong. He knew that. Of course, he knew that. But as your hand settled on his pectoral muscle, he felt nothing but unwavering satisfaction.

The town already hated him. He was already a mysterious murderous stranger. What would ruining a girl half his age really change? Sure he would be berated and probably receive double the glances of disapproval but as long as you were under him, begging him to fuck you harder what did any of it matter.

As he laid under you, his cock throbbing and begging to be released, he dreamed of shoving it in your mouth. He dreamed of watching you struggle to take it, choking on the head of his dick as it slipped between your supple lips. Maybe you would even like it, beg him for it when he was supposed to be teaching you how to live in a world full of danger. All the risk, all the pain and suffering this new era threw at him disappeared at the sound of your pleas. All he wanted was for you to gag on him with tears streaming down your face.

He was a bad man. He knew it because behind all the need, all the repressed yearning for your innocent cunt, there was not a hint of guilt. Not the slightest bit of sympathy. To be honest, it shocked him. He thought he would care more about disgracing you. He hoped he wouldn't even be able to function, intense and unweaving regret causing him to suck himself back into the dark reality of this world. But it never came. That was the first moment he knew for sure the people of Jackson had been right. He really was a bad man.

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