#post outbreak!joel | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

gracieheartspedro · 2 years ago

Text

Who We Are

pairing: fem!reader x dbf!joel miller

description: when your father falls ill, his patrol partner and best friend, joel miller finds a way to aid in his recovery. but this solution is complicated and requires you to take on a week-long hunt for supplies and resources. being stuck on the road with an older guy you've been crushing on for ages won't be so bad, right? wrong. because he's been pining after you, too. and one of you will have to give in evenutally.

word count: 17k words. this one is a LONG ONE. get a snack.

warnings: MINORS DNI! this is 18+, post!outbreak joel, age gap (reader is in her 30s, joel is in his mid 50s), i don't describe the reader all that much, consumption of alcohol, illness that requires medical intervention, blood, guns, killing of infected, forced proximity, joel is kinda pervy?, talks of loss of family members, joel lies about his past, oral (f receiving), face sitting, unprotected p in v, overstimulation, dirty talk, creampie, after care.

author's note: ... hi folks! this one is a long one, so like I said, grab a snack and get comfy! I was going to make this multiple parts but I'm eager and unhinged. to be honest, this story is better as one big one shot anyway. I had a very intense time editing so I know I probably missed some things. I may write little branch off stories if you guys enjoy it enough. anyway, enjoy! <3 lemme know what you think!

“Didn’t know you were workin’ tonight, darlin’,” Your father’s Southern drawl brings you out of your daze. You had been cleaning glasses for the last hour and a half. Surprisingly, the Tipsy Bison wasn’t busy on a Wednesday night. You had been keeping busy by cleaning and serving two visitors.

You look up, noticing your father and his patrol partner wander into the bar. They find a seat at the bar, right in front of you as you dry some whiskey glasses.

“I work every night this week, Pops,” You mutter, turning back to the liquor bottles to grab his favorite bourbon. You knew exactly what he came here for. He wanted to pester you on your shift and watch you write under his partner’s gaze. He thought your little crush was entertaining. You have made comments to your dad in the past about how you thought Joel was nice to look at and your Dad would just laugh. He would jokingly wiggle his finger at you and tell you to find someone your age.

Little do you and your father know, Joel feels similarly about you. The first moment he saw you, he thought about how if he was a young buck, he’d lock you down as soon as he could. The age held him back initially, never even entertaining your subtle glances or welcoming smiles. Then when he realized who your father was, he immediately shut down all thoughts like that in his head. You were strictly off-limits.

“Well good, keeps you busy.”

You did not enjoy the idea of working every weeknight with a bunch of drunks, but this job was a bit better than constantly shoveling horse shit. Instead, you got to mingle with the locals. Maybe find yourself a man, since you were in your early thirties and unmarried.

Joel loved coming to the Bison when you were here. It meant he got to drink a whiskey neat and watch you twirl and rush around the bar. Tonight was slower, though, so he got the privilege of speaking with you, which was rare.

You pour your Dad his bourbon, finally glancing up at his partner who’s practically ogling at you. You made a conscious effort to avoid his piercing brown eyes.

Joel Miller was a dream boat, god damn. Every time he glanced in your direction, you would freeze up and stutter out a very jumbled “hello”. He was quite guarded, never much to talk. When he did finally speak, you found yourself reeling over his deep voice.

“Whatcha want, Mr. Miller?”

His lips twinged, his eyes flicking up to yours. He loves hearing you say that, he thinks to himself. You hand off the bourbon to your Dad, waiting for a response.

“Whatever he’s having is fine, sweetheart,” He says plainly, nodding toward the half-empty bottle. Your knees could buckle at the nickname, but you keep your composure. You can’t crumble that easily.

You three slide into a conversation about their patrolling, what they found that day, and the game plan for tomorrow. You make a sly comment about how they needed to find some meaning in life other than patrol. Your dad laughs, and Joel just stares blankly at you. You instantly want to take back the comment and never speak again, ever. Instead, you just continue drying the glasses you just washed.

When your dad finished his bourbon, you noticed his expression change from relaxed to pained.

“You okay there?” You ask, grabbing his glass and placing it in the sink below the counter. He rubs his chest, letting out a deep guttural cough. Joel looks perplexed while you get closer and notice the blood splattering into your dad’s palm.

“It’s nothing, just a cough,” He manages to say, his voice hoarse. You scan his face, knowing immediately that he’s lying.

“Bullshit, you’re coughing up blood,” You reach towards some towels, tossing them on the counter in front of him, “You should probably go get checked out, Dad.”

Joel quips, “Yeah, don’t need you getting sick when we are out tomorrow. Why don’t you stop by the infirmary before you go home?”

Your Dad just shakes his head, “You two are being dramatic. It’s nothing, I promise.”

Your Dad was known for downplaying his pain and sicknesses. You remember being a little girl traveling with him across the country and every time he got hurt, he’d just suck it up. He shattered his left pinky years ago and he resolved to just chop it off. So that’s what he did. He was lucky it never got infected. But he was known just to blow off all his ailments, reminding you he’s beat all the other odds.

So instead of fighting with him, you just nod all the while, stealing a long glance at Joel. He’s finishing his drink and you can’t help but watch his neck. His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows and you fixate on it for a bit too long.

You’re brought out of the trance when he slams the glass down, his dark brown eyes drooping. Joel always looked tired, but you knew after the day they had, he was actually tired.

You had a couple more hours at the Bison before you had to close up, so you bid them a farewell, reminding your Dad that you’d be home before he stumbles off to bed. He never slept much, he would just read in the living room until you got home usually.

Joel waves you a farewell, thanking you quietly for the drink.

“Don’t be a stranger,” You say as he turns his back to you to head for the door. He turns a bit, giving you a slight smirk as he reaches for the door.

You spend the rest of your shift daydreaming about what it’d be like to be with a man. You spent most of your time in Jackson without giving much of the men your age a thought. More than half were taken, anyway. While you let your mind wander, you realize your imagination is placing Joel in the spot of all the made-up situations with this said man.

You lock the bar door behind you, tugging on it to ensure it’s snug in the latch. The air was shifting, the cool warm summer turning into a slightly chilly fall. You wore a long sleeve today, luckily, or else you’d be shivering on your way home. The walk home wasn’t a long one.

When you reach your front door, you realize the living room light is on. Dad’s awake.

But as you reach to turn the knob, you hear ghastly breathing from the other side. When you swing the door open, you see your Dad in his recliner, his hand over his chest. He’s dry heaving, trying to get out a cough.

“Hey, hey,” You quickly race to his side, “Are you okay? What’s happening?”

He breathes in deeply, “I just can’t seem to catch my breath. Something isn’t right.”

You have never seen him so panicked. You nod, understanding that your next step is to get him to the infirmary. He should have gone on his way home. You didn’t know if anyone would be there and you surely didn’t know if they would be able to treat his symptoms.

“Are you in pain?” You ask, grabbing under his arms to lift him out of his chair. He’s wobbly, so you keep your hand under his armpit and use your other free arm to balance him. He shakes his head.

“Just weak.”

Your heart sinks. Never in your life has your father admitted to feeling weak or sick. It was like as soon as he got home, his body just gave out. You help him into his shoes and start your trek back towards the middle of town. You wish you didn’t have to walk him so far because it felt like with every 5 feet, his lungs were giving out and sending him into a coughing fit. You probably woke the entire town trudging him through the streets. When you get to the front step of the infirmary, you knock as loud as you can. Usually, they had an overnight shift nurse helping, having them watch over whoever was dragged there during the day. Dispensing medicine if need be. You knew a couple of the nurses, most of them your age or a bit older.

When a familiar face opens the door, you feel a sense of relief.

“Hey Sidney,” You greet her, sort of pushing your Dad into the room, still keeping your hands wrapped around his center, “Something’s wrong with Pops.”

She reaches out to help you with him, “Oh no, what’s going on?”

“Can hardly breathe,” Is all he can muster out. You look at Sidney, concern spread across your face. She nods, knowingly.

Sidney was one of the nurses you trusted the most. She gave you stitches when you sliced your hand open on a glass bottle a couple of weeks ago. She was patient and gentle, always checking to see if you were doing alright as she sewed your skin together. She’s a former Firefly, probably in her 40s. She got trained by some doctors years ago so she knew a decent amount about all sorts of medical treatment.

She takes hold of the situation completely, grabbing your Dad and walking him to a free bed near the door. She gets him to lie down and she starts scrambling for some supplies to do a quick once over of him. He looks pale and for some reason, very small, in the hospital bed.

“It’s gonna be alright,” You say, poking his arm. You say it for him, but you mainly say it for yourself. He closes his eyes and nods.

“Always is, kiddo.”

The news was not ideal. After observation and some tests, Sidney decided your father probably has pneumonia. The problem was, that Jackson was low on antibiotics and they would have to decide if your Dad’s case was urgent enough to give him some.

It pissed you off, but you had to hold back your anger. This situation was out of Sidney’s control, but you knew exactly who to raise your voice to. Sadly, the city council was asleep in their beds, as it was 4 a.m. Sidney reassured you that she would ensure your father was looked after until the morning when they could discuss with everyone if it would be okay to give him some of the highly sought-after antibiotics.

But for now, you should get some rest.

Your father fussed at you while he was in and out of sleep, telling you that you needed to go home and sleep. Your body was plagued with exhaustion and your brain was hardly functioning. You would need to plead a good case, so even a couple of hours of sleep would do you good. You ask if you could occupy a bed nearby and Sidney agrees with a sympathetic smile. You curl up, trying to clear your brain of your racing thoughts.

You can’t lose your father, he’s all you have.

You need to remind the council of all your father does.

You need him to get better.

You need him.

“We only have 4 vials of antibiotics,” Maria states, trying not to look you in the eyes. She feels horrible, but she knows deep down the rest of the council will probably reject your father using any. It was going to be a tough decision like this that made most of the people in the council think they were playing God, but it was real life. Would they give your 60-something-year-old father antibiotics for pneumonia or give it to a young child suffering from an infection? They had to think ahead and supplies were scarce.

You cross your arms, waiting for the next shoe to drop. “And?”

Tommy stands up, knowing you will not like the next sentence. He practically guards Maria with his broad frame. He resembled Joel, with his dark hair and stern eyes. His were a bit softer.

“We are low on resources, hun. We need to think ahead and ensure that the pros outweigh the cons of giving him one of those vials. You understand?”

“Why was this not a thought in the summer? When it was a good time to go seek some out? I just don’t under-”

“We had that sickness going around over the summer. Lots of people getting fevers. Before we knew it, Dr. Peters realized we were low. I had intentions to get out and try to find more, and trade with some people, but we just haven’t discussed it all yet. There’s a process. It was in the works.”

Your blood is boiling and your patience running out. Each second of arguing was another second your Dad could be closer to death.

“Well, it’s a shitty fuckin’ process. Where can I go to get more, then? Is there another community we can trade with? A hospital we can scavenge? You guys can’t expect me to sit around and wait for him to get worse.”

Maria looks to Tommy, trying to wrack her brain for a response. Tommy’s lip twitches, knowing exactly what to say. He did not want you to do it, but he knew how you were. You’d do anything for your family.

“There’s a hospital in Salt Lake that I’ve heard is practically untouched. Fireflies used to reside there and do tests. They probably left behind some supplies.”

You narrow your eyes, “Salt Lake? Isn’t that a whole week away?”

You start to pace the room, trying to console yourself. You can’t just leave for that long and assume that everyone will take care of your Dad. Tommy places his hands on his hips, trying to figure out a resolution. He liked your Dad, always going to him if he needed help around the commune. Your Dad is always one to offer a helping hand and give solid advice. He didn’t want to watch him die, either.

“How about this,” Tommy huffs, “How about we give him one of our vials and you and Joel head out to Salt Lake to scavenge that hospital? If we are right in our assumptions, there’s probably a lot of resources there. And Joel’s been there before.”

“Why are you roping Joel into this?” You press, crossing your arms.

“Joel knows where to go. He can get you there in one piece.”

“Where am I going,” Joel’s presence takes you by surprise. You turn back at the front door of the infirmary, seeing Joel’s disheveled hair sticking up in every direction. He had red cheeks, probably from the jog he did to get there. As soon as he heard about your father, he booked it from the stables to his side.

Tommy shoots Joel a knowing look, “You and her are gonna go back to Salt Lake. You think they have antibiotics at that hospital you took Ellie to?”

Joel’s visceral reaction sends you. His heart practically stopped when Tommy brought up the hospital.

You start to sweat when he does, realizing you would have to travel that far with Joel Miller.

He swallows, shifting his weight to his other leg. “Probably. Why can’t ya just give him what we have?”

Maria shakes her head at his response, “We have a long winter ahead of us, Joel. We have four vials left. This saves us from a council meeting where they shoot down everything. They won’t approve it. If I reassure them that you are going to get some more, they won’t mind if we give him one.”

He huffs, scratching his chin in contemplation. You knew this would not be ideal for him, but you’re willing to do anything, even if you had to do it alone. The four of you stand in silence while Joel wracks his brain for an excuse to say no. None comes to him.

It’s not that he did not want to help you, he just does not want to relive some trauma with you by his side. He would have to swallow back all his emotions, all the while you would be posted up right next to him. He does not want you to see him falter under pressure.

“She can’t go alone, Joel,” Tommy quips, gesturing towards you. You were shaking, your body reacting before your brain even could. Your nerves were shot.

He shakes his head, “And if they don’t have the supplies?”

You didn’t even think that far.

“They will,” Tommy says, matter-of-factly, “It’s our best bet. The Fireflies disbanded, there has to be stuff left behind.”

You don’t know how Tommy knows all this, but he must have good sources to know all these things. Joel nods at him, accepting his response. He looks back at you, trying to figure out how you feel about the proposition by reading your face.

“Does that work for you?” His deep voice isn’t meant to be intimidating, but you flinch anyway at the question.

“I don’t have much of a choice. My Dad needs the medicine. If you guys think we can make it there and back in one piece, I’ll do it.”

“We will leave tomorrow morning. In the meantime,” Joel waves over Sidney, who’s still sitting by your sleeping and dazed father, “Give him one of those vials.”

Joel sacrificing his time and effort for your father was unfathomable to you. Sure, Joel was a great friend of your Dad’s, but he truly didn’t owe you two anything. It made you enamored with him even more.

As the day shifted into the evening, you sat by your Dad’s bed and waited for the antibiotics to kick in. His body needed rest, you knew that much because he slept more than he probably ever had in his lifetime.

He was sweating out a fever, so every so often you’d pat his head with a cold rag. He would mumble a quiet “thank you” and then return to snoring. As the sun sets, you welcome Sidney back for her night shift. She checked your Dad’s vitals, telling you his lungs are already sounding a bit better. You stretch and yawn, cracking every bone in your body while you do. You were stuck in the same position for so long, elbows on your knees, your chin propped up by your hands.

You had a long trip ahead of you, and you couldn’t lie, you were scared half to death. You did not want to come back and find your father dead. You were also terrified about going back outside of Jackson. You spent most of your last 20 years living in the wild and shitty QZ’s. You were always on edge out there, and then you found Jackson. Ever since then, life has been a little more hopeful. You were able to form relationships and have some simple enjoyment, after all this time.

Your Dad finally wakes up when you start stirring more. His one eye opens first which makes you crack a smile.

“Mornin’ Pops,” You joke, grabbing his warm hand, “That antibiotic should start working soon. You’ll be better in no time.”

“Yeah,” He croaks, “But I heard you’re going somewhere.”

You bite your lip, afraid to stress him out. You knew he would worry about you, he always did.

“Yeah, me and Joel are going to get more supplies. Nothing too drastic,” You lie, brushing your thumb over his scarred knuckles, “You trust Joel enough to take care of me?”

It was the first time he laughed in the last 24 hours, “Course he will. He knows how much you mean to me. If he fucks up, he will get a load of me, that’s for sure.”

His voice was reassuring to hear, especially since he’s joking with you.

“Okay, I believe you,” You mutter, “We leave tomorrow morning, so I need you to be good and get all the rest you can. I want you up and moving when I get back, you hear me?”

“Roger that, kiddo.”

“Mornin’ sunshine,” Your tone is sarcastic and Joel can tell. You did not expect to be stuck with Joel Miller alone for a week, especially outside the walls.

He clears his throat as he finishes packing up his horse.

“Mornin’,” He grumbles, patting his horse’s mane, “Let’s get you all set up. You’ll be takin’ your Dad’s horse, Ranger. He is already saddled up, just need to get your stuff on there.”

Luckily, you packed light. You brought a couple of changes of clothes, some food, some camping gear, and of course, your gun.

Joel helps you tie down your bag and ensures all the straps he just put on are tight enough for you. You just watch him, enjoying how just takes control of the situation. He had the father instinct, always making sure everything would be safe and secure for the girls he loved. Or liked. Whatever.

You thank him, grabbing onto the saddle and flinging yourself up onto the horse. Ranger was truly your favorite horse in all of Jackson. He was the best behaved and the biggest. His mane was long and black and he loved to be brushed. You spent a lot of evenings riding him for fun, just enjoying his company.

Joel gets on his horse, adjusting how he sits before he takes the reigns and guides you towards the main gates of Jackson.

“You still sure you’re ready for a run like this?”

He’s giving you a chance to back out. But this was now an obligation. If you didn’t do this, you would indebted to everyone. You would be the person to blame if someone’s loved one died. Not really, but you felt that guilt.

“Readier than I’ll ever be, Joel.”

“How is Ellie doing?”

You were burning to make conversation. You needed to rid your mind of all the anxiety surrounding your own life. Joel was too quiet, it made you feel queasy. He was too wrapped up in his thoughts. You were about 20 miles outside of Jackson, the sun was coming up through the foliage.

He inhales sharply, “She’s a teenage girl. She’s grumpy.”

You grip onto the reigns of your horse, your body swaying back and forth with the trot.

“I remember being that young and being constantly annoyed by my Dad’s nagging,” You chuckle, remembering the days of angst, “Are you annoying her, Joel?”

Joel scrunches his face at such allegations. If anything, Ellie was annoying him.

“Course I’m not! Just… want to make sure she’s doing good. Which she is. Everyone tells me ‘bout how helpful she is.”

You think back to the last interaction you had with Ellie. She had been helping out at the stables when you were in charge of feeding and cleaning the horses before you got the job at the Tipsy Bison. Ellie wanted to know everything you knew, pestering you with silly questions like what their names were and why they were named what they were.

“She’s very helpful,” You acknowledge, thinking about how enthusiastic she always was about learning, “You raised her right.”

He huffs, “Was hardly me. She’s just smart and raised herself.”

You did not quite understand the history between Joel and Ellie, but you knew Joel was not her biological father. You had no clue how they found each other or when. But you could see the love Joel had for Ellie. You remember him lighting up when he explained to you and your dad how she was the best shot amongst the recruits.

Joel will probably never indulge you in the specifics of his relationship with Ellie, simply because it’s complicated. He never felt the need to explain himself to anyone but Tommy.

“You had a hand in some of it, Joel. Give yourself a little credit.”

But Joel was never good at that. He was hard on himself, weary to accredit any of Ellie’s behavior to himself.

The rest of the ride was occupied with the sound of leaves rustling. Joel spots a fallen tree that he says would be a good eating spot. You agree, hopping down off your horse with ease. You tie his reins up on a nearby branch and start digging through your saddle bag for the apple you packed for yourself. You were sick with unease all day. With everything going on in your life, the last thing on your mind was hunger. Plus, you were alone with a man that you had to put all your trust in.

You pop a squat on the chipping bark and get out your pocket knife to start cutting the red fruit. Joel gets out a bag of jerky from his pack and finds a spot next to you. He looks over at you, perplexed at your food choice.

“Just some fruit?” Joel interrogates, instantly knowing your hunger cannot be satiated by apples. No one can be satisfied with only fruit.

Your stomach churns at your first bite, “Just not that hungry.”

That’s all the explanation he needs. You watch as he starts to munch on his bagged meat, cringing at the sound of his mouth. You try to block it out, but it’s eating away at your brain. You hated the sound of chewing, it was such a stupid pet peeve, but you couldn’t help yourself. Joel is oblivious, probably not even hearing how loud he’s being. You smack his arm out of instinct, something you did to your dad when he was being too obnoxious.

He looks down at you with furrowed brows and annoyed eyes.

“You’re eating too loud,” You say, wanting to smack yourself at how stupid it sounds out loud.

He looks away, completely flabbergasted at the reaction. “Eating too loud? Really?”

You feel embarrassed for letting your brain get the best of you. So you just cut more of your apple off and slowly crunch on it. You try your best not to hyper-fixate on your chewing. When you’re in a trance, lost in your thoughts, Joel nudges you back. He’s getting you back, now.

“Now you’re chewing too loud,” He jokes, popping another piece of his jerky in his mouth, “Should probably keep it down. So loud you may attract some infected.”

You can’t help but smile at his stupid rebuttal. You give him props for making you feel less foolish.

“Sorry,” you mumble, eating another slice intentionally loud, “Can’t help myself. They are just so crunchy.”

You hear him giggle, his smile easing your churning stomach.

“It’s okay, sweetheart. I’ll forgive you this one time.”

You knew the ride to this hospital would be long, but you didn’t realize how barren the landscape would be. You also didn’t realize how bad your ass would hurt. You and Joel finally pull off into some woods when the sun starts to set. Joel acts like he knows exactly how to navigate the woods, guiding his horse deeper and deeper. In between some large trees, you spot a lake.

“Wanna go swimming?” You question after hours of no conversation. He glances back at you with a sly smirk on his face. When you look to your right, you notice a small path. Joel clicks his tongue for his horse to follow it. You two trot through the leaves, before coming upon a small decrepted cabin.

“This is us,” He states as he halts his horse.

He had secretly always pictured taking you out here. He could not help but insert you into his small fantasies. Some nights he would imagine what it would be like to have you stick by his side forever. He always felt guilty afterward.

You look at the building in wonder, completely speechless. You assumed you would be camping on the forest floor, not in an intimate cabin by a lake. You swing your leg over and slide off your saddle. Joel starts to tie up his horse nearby and you follow suit. You continue to look at the cabin, curious as to who kept up with it. It looked well maintained, besides some cobwebs at the peak of the roof.

“Is this yours?”

He shakes his head, “No. Technically Tommy’s. He goes this way to get to another settlement about 50 miles south. He found this place on a whim and cleaned it up.”

You look around the area, seeing there’s even a fire pit right by the water. It had chairs and stones to outline the charred wood. You could not help but imagine what this place was before Tommy found it. How many fun nights were probably spent here by the original owner? If you had no one to go back to, you would just live here. But the more you think about that scenario, you think about how lonely you would probably get. Maybe if you had someone to stay with you.

You finally look back at Joel. He’s standing on the stone path with his eyes locked on you. You get self-conscious for a moment, realizing he probably noticed how entranced you were with the surroundings.

That’s exactly what he was thinking, too. How beautiful you stood in the shadows of the trees, your eyes curiously glancing around like a kid in a candy shop. You had him wrapped around your finger without even knowing it.

“You good if we stay here overnight? Get back on the road tomorrow?”

How could you ever say no to an offer like that?

You nod, swallowing back your insecurity, “Yeah, for sure.”

Joel could build a good fire. Watching him gather all the wood and place them into a perfect formation. As soon as he lights it, it builds and builds. When the warmth envelopes you, you start to finally feel at ease. Joel sits down with a stick, nudging the fire every so often.

He felt guilty. He felt like he was betraying your father, a man who was trusting him with his daughter. He should not be imagining how a little life in the woods would look like with you. He should not be picturing how beautiful you would look underneath him. He should not be having these devious thoughts about you. His eyes are trained on the flames as they build, trying to push those daydreams away.

When his sleeve lifts as he toys with the charred wood, you notice the watch on his wrist. It looks ancient, the face of it shattered. You don’t realize you’re staring at it until he snatches his hand away from your view.

“Sorry,” You retract, sitting further into the chair, “Your watch is broken.”

He places the stick next to his foot, finally out of his head for a moment, “Yeah, I’m aware.”

You were so stupid. You know not to pry further, knowing there’s probably a story and you don’t feel like you’re at a stage with Joel Miller to dive deeper. He notices how small you making yourself, and it makes him feel bad. He never wants to make you insecure.

“Your necklace,” He starts, trying to place your mind somewhere else. It was a feature on your body that he noticed ages ago, but he never tried to beg the question, so this seemed like a great time to move the subject along. “Is it a moon?”

You reach up to your throat, feeling for the necklace you never took off. It feels like he almost wants to see if you will spill your story first. He is bad at reading women, sometimes. Most of the time.

“Yeah, it was my sister’s.”

He feels stupid, instantaneously. As soon as those words fell from your lips, he put his face in his hands.

“Oh, I’m sorry.”

Your feelings towards what happened 20 years ago were drastically different than how you feel now. You could still feel the horror and the pain you felt, but it wasn’t so gut-wrenching anymore. It honestly doesn’t even feel like it happened to you.

You drop the crescent moon charm from your hands, “No, it’s okay. She died on outbreak day. She was a bit older than me, her name was Reagan.”

He looks up at you and just nods, taking in the information. You don’t know if it’s a gesture for you to continue to talk, but you take it as just that.

“Her and my mom were at one of her soccer games when all hell broke loose. From what I heard, she was bit by one of her teammates and when me and my Dad were packing up our things to get out of there, I grabbed some of her stuff. A necklace, a sweatshirt, and her favorite pair of sneakers. I don’t know why. But yeah, this necklace is the only thing that survived 20 years. Sweatshirt got too small, shoes got too torn up.”

You don’t even notice the tears pricking in your eyes until you blink. You don’t even remember what she looks like, her face is kind of jumbled in your memory. You remember her hair though, long and brown and super curly. Joel just listens, his eyes trained on your hands as you nervously rub them together. When you peer up at him, you see the mutual pain written on his face.

He thinks to his beautiful Sarah. His eyes fall to his broken watch. The pain is still very palpable.

“‘m glad we have somethin’ from our people. Somethin’ to remember them by, ya’ know?”

You scan his broken watch and nod timidly. “Yeah, something to remember them by.”

You stand up after eating some more food you packed, ensuring you’re somewhat nourished before you go to sleep. Joel stares at the fire, his eyes heavy with exhaustion. He knows he has to sleep, but he knows you need it more. He’s willing to give up his hours for yours.

“You want me to do first watch?” You quiz, hoping to get the answer no. Instead, he just shrugs. You cross your arms, a cool shiver going down your back as you step away from the fire.

“I’ll start first,” He mumbles, grabbing his poking stick, “There’s a bed in there all ready for you. Get some rest, we got a long day tomorrow.”

You respond with a slight wag of your head, “Okay, goodnight, Joel.”

You turn on your heels and head towards the front door of the cabin. You creak the door open. It’s pitch black so you step back onto the small porch to grab the lantern Joel lit a while ago. You slowly creep through the one-room cabin, placing the lantern on the small table by the door. It lit up most of the room so you got a great look at the wooden framed bed, waiting for you to lay upon it.

You feel a pang of guilt making Joel sit outside to guard you as you slept. You knew you needed rest. You also knew it would start getting colder and colder and that fire would die eventually.

Joel could handle himself, after all. You would just have to push your worry aside. When you curl up onto the hard mattress, you think back to the last time you were left to trust another man to look after you as you slept. It was a traumatizing night, so instead of worrying yourself, you close your eyes and remind yourself that Joel is safe. Dad trusts Joel. Joel is a good man.

Sleep eventually takes over, your soft snores rattling off the wooden walls.

After a couple of hours, the shivering takes over Joel’s body, so he creeps into the cabin. The lantern is dimmer, slowly running out of fuel. He shakes his head, smiling to himself at your disregard for resources. He walks over to the small wood-burning oven, opening the door to it as quietly as he can. You don’t even stir. You’re a deep sleeper, he would remember.

He starts a fire with the old coals, warming up the small space. Once he stands up from his squat, he hisses at the crack of his knees. He glances over at you, making sure he did not wake you. Nothing.

You were a peaceful sleeper, your mouth slightly ajar. To Joel, you were always so beautiful. Not even just your looks, but your kind and reserved nature. You always gave him a delighted smile when he looked your way. You were dedicated to always being there for your father, which would always melt his cold heart. He would always watch you with a careful eye, praying that you would somehow get older or him, younger. He hated himself for admiring you so often, especially since he respected your father so much. But you were right there.

He sat himself in the old recliner chair near the door, peaking out the window every so often. He would always find himself training his eyes back on you, watching your chest rise and fall slowly.

It takes everything in him not to curl up next to you.

The second day starts off a bit rough.

When you wake up in the early morning hours, you take notice of a sleeping Joel in the corner of the room. You spring up, loudly rattling the bed frame. It sends Joel jumping out of his skin, his eyes flying open to look at you.

You are panting like you just ran a mile.

“Jesus Christ, girl,” He barks, his tone tired but also vicious, “Thought someone had you at gunpoint.”

“You were sleeping!”

“Shit, yeah I was, wasn’t I?” His tone is more relaxed, sort of annoyed. He rubs his eyes, glancing outside. Your horses were still there and it doesn’t seem like you guys have been ransacked.

You clench your fists, “You’re lucky we didn’t get shot in our sleep or something.”

He rolls his eyes, slowly rising from the chair he took over, “That’s a little dramatic, sweetheart. We are fine.”

After that comment, you did not want to talk to Joel Miller.

You also start to question if you can trust him. He should’ve woken you up to take charge of the watch, but instead, he ignorantly fell asleep and risked your life.

When you pack up to leave, he realizes how rattled you are. He wants to apologize, but he’s too stubborn to do so. You were being dramatic. But he shouldn’t have said that. He should’ve kept that comment to himself. He was never really good at holding his tongue, always saying the first thing on his mind.

When the sun sets on the second day, Joel promises you two should be in Salt Lake the next afternoon. The whole day pretty much consisted of you two bickering about state capitals. He swears the capital of Pennsylvania is Philadelphia.

“It’s not, it’s Harrisburg,” You would say.

You also talked about times before the Infection. He mentions his daughter, Sarah, telling you about how she used to play soccer and she loved going to the Texas State Fair. It makes your heart happy to hear him light up about her, but it makes you want to cry hearing a father talk about his dead child. You can’t imagine that type of pain, and you hope you never do. He doesn’t even know why he’s suddenly baring his soul to you, but he starts to feel like his walls are falling away and he’s comfortable around you.

He tells you about how he plays the guitar, which you lock onto quickly.

“You’ll have to show me how good you are,” You smile, imagining Joel Miller strumming along to some folksy song you request. He can only imagine what type of music you would want to hear from him.

“When we get home,” He mutters, “I'll give you a performance.”

“I cannot wait.”

The conversation with you was easy. You could get anything out of him, pretty much. You were a lot like your father, but softer. He enjoyed your company a bit more. Your laugh was infectious and you were a lot easier on the eyes, of course. When you two stop for a break, he watches as you look for four-leaf clovers on the forest floor. When you find one, you pick it up and bring it over to his hunched-down frame.

“My mom used to say they were for love and luck,” You explain, “Think you need it for both.”

He knew you were joking by the way you giggle and return to your spot on the ground. He just shakes his head and sticks the clover in his jacket pocket.

He was dreading being back in Salt Lake. He doesn’t want to relive that day when Ellie was practically ripped from him. It sent him spiraling just thinking about all the outcomes that could’ve transpired that day.

He contemplates telling you for a few brief seconds.

He wouldn’t have much to lose, especially now that everything is said and done. But then fear takes over and he wonders, would you judge him for it?

He imagines how you would react. How your nose would probably scrunch up, how your disposition towards him would soon contort into horror. You would probably call him a monster. You would probably never look at him the same way, with that beautiful smile and attentive gaze.

“You okay, Joel?”

You two were positioned on the edge of some woods off a dirt road. Joel didn’t want to attract anyone with fire, so you two decided you would just camp on the ground near the highway you would end up following to get into the city.

“‘M all good,” He practically whispers, “Just tired. You mind gettin’ first watch?”

You just silently nod, watching him rise from his spot and move over to the sleeping bags you two had set up when you arrived. You watch as he awkwardly wiggles his large frame into a small sack. It makes you giggle a bit. He positions himself with his back to you, his front facing into the woods. He can’t spend his time staring at you like he would like to, he needs to sleep.

You realize he has a leaf stuck on the back of his head. You couldn’t help yourself, it was going to bother you for as long as you were awake. You stand up and slowly creep up to him.

You squat down and pluck the leaf out of his thick curls. His head snatches back at you, knitting his brows together in confusion.

Secretly deep down, you just wanted to find a reason to touch him.

“Can I help you?”

You give him a shit-eating grin, “Yeah, you just got leaves in your hair. It was going to bother me if I didn’t get it out. You’re very, very welcome.”

He rolls his eyes, “Can I sleep now?”

“Don’t know, I’m already getting bored without you glaring at me.”

You were now on a mission to annoy him, he guesses.

Without thinking, he responds with a comment that would stick with you all night.

“Yeah, you like it when I look at you, don’t ya?”

The homestretch was only about another 20 miles. You and Joel had made good time, only taking about three days to get to the hospital. After the subtle flirting with Joel the night before, you got a little more ambitious with your advances.

Before you two took off to get to your destination, you asked Joel if you could change your clothes. You had mud all over your jeans and your shirt was reeking of body odor. The natural deodorants that were handmade in Jackson only did so much.

“Yeah, make it quick,” He orders, pointing to a more private area of the camp, “There’s some bushes over there.”

“I’m not getting dressed in a bush, Joel. Just look away,” You test, already shrugging off your flannel. He notices your bold move, instantly peeling his eyes away from your direction. This can not be happening to him right now.

“What the hell,” He murmurs, his hands propped up on his hips, “You’re doin’ this on purpose.”

You feel your cheeks heat up, “Doing what on purpose?”

“Testin’ me. Me and my patience.”

You throw your shirt over your head and grab one of your spare ones from your pack, “Well, if it’s a test, you’re passing with flying colors, Miller.”

He glances back at you without even really thinking, spotting you in your bra with a shirt covering your eyes. It’s almost like when you tell a child not to press a button, and it makes them want to do it even more.

He wanted to keep looking.

“Fuck,” He says under his breath, trying to push those types of thoughts out of his mind.

You shimmy off your pants, folding them as soon as you get them off your legs. You needed a shower so bad, you felt so filthy.

“You think we could stop back at the cabin on the way home? I want to bathe.”

Thinking about you naked and taking a bath made his dick hard.

“Yes,” He manages to say, “Hurry up, please!”

You grin at his frustration, “Fine, fine. I’m almost done.”

You and Joel trot along an abandoned highway, cars littering every lane. It was nothing new to you. You have seen plenty of cities in your lifetime. Each time was a bit different, but for the most part, they were all the same. Riddled with infected and bombed to shit.

You think back to when Tommy said Joel had been here before. Your mind starts to wonder, and being that you still had a couple of hours before you got to see the actual hospital, you decide to speak up and ask.

“When was the last time you were here?”

He thinks for a second. He was waiting for these questions.

“Over a year ago.”

You shake your head, “Was there a reason?”

You had no business prying into Joel’s life, but you felt like after spending days with him, there was some kinship. Maybe even a friendship.

“Ellie’s mom was a Firefly. They had a base camp out here,” He explains, but would he go further? Would he spill all the beans?

It’s technically not his story to tell. But then again, Ellie didn’t even have the truth, so it was a story only he knew.

You wait before responding, “Did you find her?”

“Who?”

“Ellie’s mom,” You press, glancing around some cars. You are trying to act like you didn’t care, but you could tell from the moment you entered the outskirts of the city, Joel was plagued with the weight of the atmosphere. His shoulders got heavier, his eyebrows further knitted together. He was tense.

“No, she’s dead. So I brought her home,” He says, half-bending the truth. He’s lying, but not really. Ellie’s mom was dead but that was never the reason they came out here. He just wants to say it, but his chest feels like a weight is pushing down, almost cracking his ribs. He swallowed the guilt.

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.”

You didn’t have much else to say, letting the silence eat away at the prickle of your arm hairs as they stood up. You try to relax, but now that you are in the city, it feels real. You traveled all this way for medication so Jackson would not shun you. It sounded kind of stupid, coming all this way in hopes of a stocked Firefly hospital.

You also traveled all this way with Joel Miller. You managed to speak to him without tripping over every word and poking fun at him. You watched him sleep at night, looking so peaceful in the woods surrounding him. You try to think about the last time you saw him smile. You saw him differently, now. He came all this way to help you and your dad. He is risking a lot, disregarding his duties back home, just so he can be with you and protect you.

You ponder if things will be different when you get home. Maybe he would talk to you more when he came to the Tipsy Bison. Maybe he would wave back at you when you saw him around town.

You secretly hoped being next to him for so long would change your relationship with him.

Joel starts to ride next to you, studying your face as you stare forward.

“What are you thinkin’ bout so hard over there?” He poses, watching your face twist when he speaks up.

You lick your lips, “Thinking about what it’s gonna be like when I get home.”

“What do ya’ mean?”

You halt your horse to look over at him. He does the same.

“We came all this way and I am scared when we get back, you won’t want to talk to me anymore.”

He shakes his head, a slight chuckle escaping his lips, “Kiddo, your dad’s my patrol partner. ‘Course, I’ll still talk to you. You’re always around.”

The nickname makes you cringe. You don’t want to be a kid to him.

“Right, of course.”

When you get to the edge of the city, Joel starts explaining the game plan. How you will get to the hospital, do your sweep as quick as you can, and don’t meander around. He also explains how the exit plan is to drop everything, no matter what, and return to the horses. You see someone? Run.

You want to say you know how to handle yourself, but you resist and just nod in understanding.

To your surprise, you two do not run into any hoards. You turn a corner and spot a couple of infected twitching near an old school, and you two carefully back up and go up another block to avoid them altogether. You two don’t say anything to each other as you spot the hospital in the distance. Joel just points forward, having you trot at his side.

You pull out your gun when you start to hear some clicking nearby. Joel gestures to you to be quiet and continues to the front of the hospital. You two ride your horses to the ambulance drop-off, parking them there. When you jump down, you start to grab your pack so you can fill it with whatever supplies you find. Joel does the same, throwing his leather backpack over his shoulder. You check the magazine of your gun and take off the safety.

“Okay, we stay close to each other,” He explains in a hushed tone, “Grab whatever you think we need.”

You wiggle your head in agreement. He raises his rifle as you two enter the side door. The hospital is quiet besides the wind blowing through some shattered windows. You click on your flashlight that is attached to your backpack, making sure it’s pointed forward. The main corridor leads you down to some triage rooms and nurse's stations. Joel gestures to you to check out some triage rooms. You find some bandages and some tongue presses. You grab the entire box of bandages and stuff them in your bag. When you return to the hall, Joel is stuffing some of his finds in his pack.

“No meds yet,” He grumbles. You two press forward, keeping your steps silent. You find some lab rooms off the main hallway and you two scope out each room carefully, your guns still drawn and at the ready. You find more items; some gloves, masks, and some scissors. You pick them up, stuffing them in your back.

You hear movement from behind you and quickly spin. It’s just Joel, holding a couple of vials of medication. You rush towards him, using your light to see what the vials read.

levofloxacin

amoxicillin

“Jackpot,” You murmur, “Any more?”

He grabs a baggie sitting on a table nearby, “Not that I saw.”

You continue searching, not finding much of anything in the drawers. A lot of the stuff is picked through.

You point to a central staircase, “Wanna go up?”

“Yeah, right behind you.”

Joel was reeling, spotting some areas where blood was splattered across the walls as he walked through the hospital. It was terrifying to put himself back in this exact spot. It felt like a fever dream. Now he had you with him, another person he cared too much about to admit to anybody, let alone himself. He cared about you in a whole different way than he cared about Ellie.

You trail up the stairs, finding some old labs and nurse's stations. All were picked through. You couldn’t help but notice the blood all over the floor in some areas. You try to figure out what could have transpired here, but you don’t even try to beg the question to Joel. With the look on his face, you are afraid to say much of anything.

Something bad happened here and he was a witness to it.

It made you want to hurry up and spare his feelings. Instead of taking careful and methodical steps, you run room to room searching drawers and counters for anything of value. You find some alcohol swabs, safety pins, and some wrist splints. When you get to the last room in the hallway you’re in, you hit the jackpot. It’s a cabinet with some vials.

You start to quietly read them off to Joel who’s standing on the threshold of the room.

“Grab them all,” He says, pulling his pack off his shoulder so you can put some into his, “We can find use for ‘em.”

You also find some sutures and unopened syringes. You wish you could get down on your knees and thank whatever god is up there for blessing you with everything. You don’t believe in that though, so instead you excitingly grab Joel’s arm and shake it.

“Let’s get this all home,” You smile, pressing your fingers harder into his bicep, “Maybe celebrate with something strong from the bar.”

Then you hear it.

Click. Click. Click.

Joel grabs your arm back, shoving you behind him. He slings his pack over his shoulder and you do the same. You never had many issues with killing infected, but you did not know what you were dealing with. It was dark and all too quiet for too long. Joel creeps forward, his gun drawn forward to peek out the door. When you do the same, he tucks you back behind him.

Lining the hallway is about 3 clickers. Your stomach drops as they slowly make their way to the sounds you two made seconds ago. Joel glances back at you, his face very serious and stern.

You can read the look on his face and being that you dealt with these fuckers before, you know that you need to be silent. He looks back down the hall, spotting an exit in a staircase that’s slightly blocked by one of the clickers. He waves you along as he slowly tiptoes down the hallway. You get closer and closer to the first clicker and your gun is trained right at them as you keep your distance. You can tell by the clothing that it was a woman at one time, the infection growing out of every crevice of her body.

She clicks and clicks, but does not attack you. You and Joel continue, not making a sound as you shuffle past the next one. But once you get close to the one closest to the door, something snaps and it’s like they all realize exactly all at once. One squeals and the others follow suit. Joel yells for you to run, but you don’t budge, emptying your gun into the closest one. It crumbles to the ground. With that one down, Joel grips your wrist tightly and flings you towards the door. You two rush out as Joel lights up the hallway with gunfire.

You now know that you’re attracting every infected in a mile radius so time is of the essence. You practically fall down the stairs trying to get to the bottom. Joel does not like how fast you moving, pressing you to run faster. You two sprint down the hallway as two runners come full speed at you from an opposing hallway. You try to shoot but your gun is empty. You scream for Joel to do something and he puts them down expertly. He’s spot on even with the adrenaline coursing through his veins. You find the door you came in from and quickly make your way to Ranger. He seems sort of spooked so you try to gingerly climb up him, grabbing his reigns from the pole you tied him to. Joel is quick to mount his horse. He pulls his horse back, guiding it to head back the way you guys came.

You follow suit, hearing stirring from all around you as your hair whips in the wind. You are not worrying about the noise you two are making now, galloping down the once-busy streets of Salt Lake City.

“Don’t stop til’ I say so!” Joel calls out. You can hardly hear with your heartbeat in your ears and the wind against your ear drum.

You get to the edge of the city after about 20 minutes of dodging left-behind cars and random barriers. You get to the point where the foliage takes over and the infected taper off. You don’t realize it until you start slowing down and your heart gets back to its normal pace, you’re freezing.

You yell out for Joel, who’s still going quite fast. He halts completely, letting you catch up with his step.

“We have to stop, I’m freezing.”

You weren’t wearing all your layers and you knew it would be detrimental if you didn’t stop to wrap up before you two continued your journey. Joel nods, trotting off the main part of the road into some woods.

When you get off your horse, you can feel Joel’s eyes lock onto your vibrating body.

“Jesus, girl,” He dismounts, wrapping his reigns around a nearby branch, “The wind do you that much damage?”

You can’t help but laugh as you rifle through your pack to find your extra layers. You can remember packing two thermals, but with the way you’re shaking, you can’t even grip onto the clothes to move them around to search. You don’t even realize Joel has come to your side, you only notice when he nudges your side with his three fingers. You move out of his way so he can look, but you can’t help but feel the warmth his gentle touch gives you on your hip.

He pulls out a thermal, handing it out to you.

“Just put it over your other long sleeve,” He instructs, digging for another layer for you. You take his advice and throw it over your head. When your head pops through the neck hole, you spot him smirking at you.

“If you don’t warm up soon, I may have to share my body heat so we can get back on the road,” Joel jokes, watching you pull your hair out of the back of your long sleeve. You didn’t hate the sound of that, truthfully.

“Guess I will try my best not to warm up then.”

He shakes his head, grabbing onto your other thermal, “You can’t say stuff like that to me, darling.”

“Why not?”

Joel has slipped up a couple of times already, he wasn’t planning on giving in. But the teasing was fun and light-hearted. He knew in his heart it was not going to turn into anything.

Right?

“Because I don’t think it’s a very good idea for us to talk like that to one another,” He explains, stepping back as you add the other shirt onto your already warming body, “May lead us somewhere we can’t come back from.”

You swallow, “Maybe I’d like that.”

It takes you a day and a half to get back to the cabin. Joel promised that you two could spend a whole day there if need be. You two were physically and mentally exhausted. The horses needed rest too, you could tell Ranger was beat.

When you arrive on the property, Joel makes sure to scope out a radius before you two settle in. Ever since the sly passes you made at him, he’s been more quiet. You can tell he’s deep in thought. Maybe it wasn’t about you, but he had something on his mind.

You use the fire stove to warm up some water from the lake to give yourself a quick “bath”. You just used an old rag and some bar soap to scrub your limbs, trying to get off all the caked-on dirt. Joel stayed outside by the fire, cooking up some squirrels he was able to trap. You stood in your undergarments, lathering your skin, watching him from the window as he poked at the fire.

You felt a bit better once you were clean. The growl in your stomach was dull and kind of painful. You needed to eat, so you got your dirty clothes back on and headed outside to prop yourself up next to Joel.

When you open the cabin door, his head snaps over to you.

“Howdy, cowboy,” You gleam, walking down to the stump next to him. You couldn’t help but flirt now. It was funny to watch him squirm, the glint in his eyes not hard to notice.

“You all clean?”

You nod, giving him a cheeky smile. “Yeah, now you go get yourself all cleaned up.”

He grabs his stick poker, “Don’t got any soap.”

“Use mine.”

Joel stops his motion immediately to train his eyes back on you. “You want me to smell like you?”

“Well, I smell delicious, so why not?”

He scans your body with his eyes, “Cause if we get home and your Dad smells your soap on me, he’ll put it bullet between my eyes.”

You know he’s being dramatic, finding any excuse to opt out of using the soap you just used on your body.

“So, what you’re saying is,” You clear your throat before continuing, “If my dad wasn’t your friend, you’d lather yourself with my soap?”

He contemplates for a moment, “Yeah, and other things.”

Your heart stops beating for a second. Joel can not help but smirk at your reaction. He was playing with fire, literally and figuratively. The tension between you two was so heavy, that you do not think you could even take a deep breath in.

He stands up from his spot next to you. “Why don’t ya eat, sweet thing? I have to clean myself up, I guess.”

Joel can not do this.

You were his friend’s daughter. Sure you were grown, beautiful, strong-willed, and everything he could want and more but he could not take advantage of you. The only way he felt this way right now was because tensions were so high back in Salt Lake. You two have spent a lot of time together, the hormones… what the fuck is he thinking?

You sit by the fire, your stomach doing back flips as you think about Joel in the cabin, by himself, practically half naked.

Why were you doing this to yourself?

Your heart is racing faster than it ever has. No clicker, no stranger, nothing has made you this nervous. Your hand reaches for the door handle, but before you can turn it, Joel rips open the door.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

You stand there, dumbfounded. “I-I don’t know.”

He’s standing over you, his chest rising faster the more you keep your eyes trained on him. He has a green flannel on, the top couple of buttons undone. You lift your hand to touch the skin peeking through, but he stops your movements before you can make contact. You note the scent of wood burning in the cabin and it’s a lot warmer than you left it. Joel must have started the stove again.

“We can’t.”

You shake your head, “No, we can’t, can we?”

You two know better. You know better. You know better.

You are breathing in each other’s spaces. You don’t even want to look him in the eyes. His arm snakes around your midsection, pulling you forward into the cabin. At that moment, you knew that you two didn’t know any better.

It’s almost like you two silently made the decision.

“We can’t tell anyone about this, sweet girl,” He whispers, his hands still firmly on your back. You could not resist this temptation anymore. He was right in front of you, wanting you just as badly as you wanted him.

Your eyes glance up at his dark sultry gaze, “It’s our little secret.”

His hand reaches up, gracing your chin with his touch. When he dips down to meet your height, you finally get bold and extend your hand up and around his neck. Your lips connect and you feel like a million little butterflies explode in your stomach. You had never desired a kiss from anyone as much as you did with Joel.

He’s eager and impatient, though. He’s not as soft as you imagined for a man who hardly spoke. He just wants to feel you everywhere, all at once. His mouth melts into yours, his tongue exploring every inch of yours. He’s moving you around the room, stumbling over furniture and shoes as he backs you into the large wooden bed frame.

“So fuckin’ perfect,” He mumbles into your lips as soon as he lifts you up onto the mattress. It catches you by surprise, mainly because you never expected him to manhandle you in this way. He’s hungry for every inch of you. After all these months of secretly pining for him and him not giving you any positive response, you never anticipated something like this happening. Especially at a time like this.

“Joel,” You whine, pulling him down on top of you as you fall back into the flannel blankets, “I need you everywhere.”

He grins peppering kisses down your neck, “Don’t worry, I will treat you so fuckin’ good. Been wantin’ you for so long.”

It was so filthy and hot. Your dad’s patrol partner, his best friend. Keen to make you feel good? And wanting it for a while? You must be imagining his words because you can’t even comprehend the situation.

But it’s true. Joel’s secretly been watching you when you’re not looking. When you sling drinks on Friday nights, he watches you from a booth in the corner. Tommy’s caught him a couple of times, smacking him and reminding him that you were off limits. When you came to his house with extra pot pie or soup, he would watch you walk away from his house from his living room window.

This taboo yearning kept him up at night. But now, he has you alone and he needs a taste.

He pulls back to look at your face, “Are you sure you want me?”

You can’t help but giggle a bit.

“Joel, I’ve been wanting you for longer than I would like to admit,” You purse your lips as you bring your hand up to trace his collarbone, “Think about you all the time.”

It was the truth. Your mind was taken up but all his little sly comments. The way he would drop anything to help you or your dad. His beautiful brown eyes didn’t help one bit either.

“My god, girl…Gonna have me cumming in my jeans like a teenager.”

He returns to laying kisses all along your body. It started with wet kisses down your neck, only for it to trail right where your shirt begins, right below your collarbones. You push him back for a moment, taking your shirt off over your head. He watched you carefully, ensuring there was no hesitancy with your actions. He wanted to be absolutely positive that this is what you wanted.

As soon as you reach for the clasp of your bra, Joel grabs your arms away.

“Let me,” He mumbles, letting his fingers trace along the seam of the black fabric before using his right hand to undo the back. With him this close to you again, you inhale sharply, catching the scent of your soap.

“See you took up my offer,” You tease, letting your bra fall down your shoulders, “Did you get clean just for this, Miller?”

He catches a glimpse of you under the bra and his mind goes blank. You notice his change in disposition and decide it’s best to discard every other article of clothing completely. You struggle to get your jeans off, so he helps by practically ripping them off your legs. He can’t help but spot the soak undies attached to your jeans. When you are bare under him, he gawks at you for a moment.

“A beautiful woman like you,” He shakes his head, biting his lip. He unbuckles his pants before he stands and shoves them down his legs. While he’s making an effort to get as naked as you, you start unbuttoning his flannel. He watches you take your time, thumbing each button slowly. He tilts your head back up, his eyes leering at you for a moment. “And you want someone like me?”

You know he’s probably in his own head, so you feel the need to prove to him, that yes this is what I want.

You grab onto his neck and pull him back down into a passionate kiss. When you notice him give in, you use all your might to push him sideways and onto his back next to you. You mount his lap immediately, holding him down with your body weight. Your soaked slit trudges over his large hard-on while you dip your head to capture his lips. You feel his hands trail up the sides of your body, leaving goosebumps in his wake. He finds your boobs, palming them with his warm calloused hands. You were extra sensitive so as soon as his fingers find your nipples, you’re moaning into his mouth.

When your hips jet forward, his tip slides between your pussy lips. The sensation sends him into overdrive, his grip on your waist getting tighter. He’s so fucking big.

“No foreplay, you just wanna grind your pussy right onto my cock?” His question sends shockwaves through your body and you raise your hips up off his crotch. You kneel over him, anticipating to rotate your pelvis back onto him, but he has other ideas.

Because Joel has been thinking about what you taste like for too long. He can’t just fuck you. He lays back, all the while, dragging you up to his chest so your pussy is hovering over his pursed lips.

“Joel, what are you doing?”

You feel his hot breath huff onto your slick center, “I’m gonna devour this beautiful pussy, first. Need to get you warmed up.”

Without any warning, he wraps his arms around your thighs and pushes your center closer to his outstretched tongue. You gasp when he starts to run his tongue up and down your slit. You can’t help but settle around his face, your knees feeling like they may already give out.

You’ve never sat on someone’s face and watched them eat you out like a starved man. But Joel is precise with his motions, his mouth wrapping around your clit. When he starts to suck, the suction noise makes you whimper and shake. You have only ever cum by your own hand, so when the familiar heat rises in your stomach, you know instantly this is going to be the best sex you’ve ever had in your life.

Joel is a very easy man to please. He thoroughly enjoys watching women crumble above him, their orgasms surging through their bodies while his tongue is pressed into them. But with you, he wants to drudge it out of you over and over again. You’re so magnetic on top of him, your head thrown back in pleasure. Your hands rest on your shoulders as you grind down on him, your peak teetering the edge. He shimmies his hand in between your thighs and begins to use his fingers in you, just to drive you crazier. He’s fucking up into you with his pointer and middle fingers, managing to latch onto your clit while he does.

When you tumble into bliss, Joel moans into you, egging on your spasms. You lurch forward, dragging your center off his drenched lips. Your legs are limp as you try to crawl up the bed. Joel rolls over, creeping up the bed with you. You lay on your back, propping yourself up onto some of the pillows.

“Do you need a break?” He asks, his hands feeling up your bare, still kind of shaking, thighs. You shake your head “yes” and breathe out loudly. Your body is covered in a light sheen, the sweat pooling around your hairline. Joel lets you take a moment, making sure you are completely ready for him.

When you finally meet his eyes, your stomach fills with butterflies. He’s admiring you from his position, his eyes not finding yours until he’s done checking out your bare chest. You giggle, tugging on his wrists. He takes up your advances, positioning himself above you. He’s caging you in with his tanned strong arms, only allowing you to really move your upper body. You tangle your hands through his messy dark peppered curls, which makes him sigh. He secretly loved it when women felt through his hair.

“Fuck me,” He groans as he reaches down between you, grabbing ahold of his hard member. You watch as he drags it through your heat, gathering all your wetness before teasing your entrance.

“Joel, please.”

He smirks, pushing in just his tip, “Please what, baby girl? You want me to give you all of it?”

You are already overstimulated after your last orgasm and you are a bit nervous to imagine what all of it is. You nod, though, because the stretch is already so delicious.

“Please, Joel, please. I need it,” You whine, knowing how desperate you sound. It’s music to Joel’s ears.

“Shh, baby,” He eases in further, “I told you I’m gonna treat you real good. Gonna treat this pussy, so fuckin’ good.”

When he’s fully sheathed in you, your nails are digging into his shoulders. When he eases back to pull out some to ensure you can take it, you’re a moaning mess. It only eggs him on, feeling how slick you are and how tight you are around him.

“That’s right baby, take all of me,” He says as he lifts himself off you. You have nothing to grip onto now, except the sheets that line the queen-sized bed. Joel wants to watch himself slip out of you and go back into you with ease. You love the friction, but you know you need more.

You don’t know how, but it’s like he reads your mind. He starts to increase his pace, holding onto the back of your thighs as he drills into you. The curvature of his dick hits exactly where no man could ever reach.

“Oh my god, fuck Joel! Fuck!”

Your words only encourage him to go harder and faster.

“Keep screamin’ my name, baby doll.”

The sweat is dripping down his face with how much effort he’s putting into fucking you. You’re floored at how quickly your orgasm builds again, the sounds of him plowing into you alone sends you into overdrive.

As soon as you start to vibrate under him, Joel takes that as a great time to start thumbing at your clit. You feel every one of your nerve endings burning with such rapture, that you can’t even say anything. You’re just howling, no coherent words even coming out. Your vision goes white.

The scene is something out of the old pornos Joel used to watch. You’re writhing under him, the orgasm practically sending you cross-eyed. You reach up to anchor yourself down and the only thing you can find to grab is Joel’s forearm.

“Yes, Joel!”

His hips continue to snap into yours as you squeeze his cock with your gyrating hips. He’s fucking you through it, watching your face contort. Your grip on his arm hurts, but he does not care. It’s unbelievably hot to watch the girl he has adored from afar cumming around him. Over and over.

The scene is enough to have him chasing down his own high. The feeling of your cunt gripping onto him so tight, while his name is chanted from your lips, the cum practically shoots out of him before he has time to grab his shaft and pull out. He does not empty himself in you though, quickly prying himself out of your weeping hole and spilling out the rest onto your stomach.

“Shit.”

You don’t even realize what happened, not caring about really anything except for how wonderful and high you feel. Joel tumbles onto his side, half of his body resting on yours. His mouth is close to your ear so he whispers it to you, his voice shaky.

“I came inside you.”

You lick your lips, trying to regain some saliva in your mouth, “I do not care, Joel.”

He does not prefer that answer, but he accepts it for the time being. You could not feel your face at the moment, you did not have time to worry yourself over Joel cumming inside you. It was not the first time someone did that.

Joel rolls off the bed, his legs feeling wobbly with his first steps. He’s still half hard and stumbling over to the bowl of water he just used to clean off himself. He grabs a clean rag and soaks it in the soapy water. The least he could do was clean up his mess.

You watch him trudge over to you, the cum still pooled on your stomach and a bit in your belly button.

Joel places the warm towel on your lower tummy, wiping up his mess.

“Thanks,” You manage to say, your post-orgasm haze wearing off a bit. Now you’re just cold and exhausted. You shiver as soon as he removes the towel from your buzzing body. He notes it immediately and grabs the blanket that had been kicked to the floor. He lays it over you, making sure your full nude body is covered by the chilly air.

“I need to go take a leak, I’ll be right back.”

You try to stay awake. But as soon as he gets some clothes on and heads outside to relieve himself, you’re lulled to sleep by the sounds of the rustling woods that surround the cabin.

When you slowly open your eyes, you instantly notice how dry your mouth is. The itchy fabric of the blanket is tickling your bare limbs as you shift. Joel’s not beside you.

You sit up, glancing around the cabin. His stuff is still here, but he is not. You keep the scratchy blanket wrapped around you as you plant your bare feet on the wooden floor. As soon as you take your first step forward towards the front door, it slowly swings open.

Joel stands there, fully clothed, cheeks reddened from the cold outdoors.

“Mornin’,” He says with a sleepy voice, “Got up early to get the horses fed and saddled up.”

All you remember is him going to pee outside last night, right before you fell asleep. “Did you ever come to bed last night?”

“Yeah, only got a couple of hours of sleep. You took up most of the bed.”

You clear your throat, becoming hyper-aware suddenly that you are very naked under the blanket. Joel tries not to notice your natural sensuality when you wake up. Sleepy eyes, swollen lips, slightly tangled hair. Even if last night never happened, he would be completely enamored by you.

“Oh, okay,” You mutter, trying to act natural about the fact that you slept with Joel fucking Miller last night. “We all set then?”

He shuts the front door, cutting off any more cold from slipping in. You watch him slowly start to invade your space. He feels pulled towards you, the gravity overcoming every sense he has. He needs to be close to you, touching you, feeling you.

“Yeah, we are all set.”

Chills run down your spine when his cold hand reaches out and grazes your cheek. You flick your eyelashes towards him, not knowing what to say next. He dips down to your height, kissing your lips carefully. He is nervous you will back away from him, but you don’t. You lean forward into him, the weight of your entire body pressing into him.

He is the first to pull away, but you swear you could be latched onto him forever. His big brown eyes are lasered in on your eager lips, but in the back of his mind, he knows that you two need to get back home soon. He promised Tommy four days, nothing more. And you needed to get home to your Dad. Fuck. Your Dad. His fuckin’ friend.

“We have to get home,” Is all he says.

And then he’s gone. It’s like he blipped out of the room. You blink and the door slams and you are alone again.

You stumble out of the cabin with your backpack on, your eyes adjusting to the sunshine between the falling away leaves. Winter creeps in so quickly in Wyoming, you think to yourself.

Joel is already posted up on his horse, waiting for you to hurry along and join him. You pet Ranger for a moment before you hop up onto his back. He can’t help but realize how perfect you seemed in the sunlight. Your face hasn’t aged with time like his. It makes sense because you’re so much younger than him. You’ve lived a very full and traumatic life, sure, but you still had a lot more energy to live. He couldn’t picture that you’d want to spend the rest of it with an older guy with maybe 20 more years left in him if you’re lucky.

The thoughts start to eat away at him as you two make your way through the forest.

You assume he’s just tired from not getting a lot of sleep, so you just keep your lips sealed until you make it to the main trail back home.

“So, when we get home,” You break the quietness with your open-ended statement. Joel doesn’t know what you’re insinuating, so he just keeps his head forward. “What happens, then?”

He pulls back his horse's reins to position himself looking directly at you.

“What do you mean?”

You look at him suspiciously, “Do we tell people?”

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Joel thinks.

“Tell them what?”

He has to be messing, right? You think.

But no, he’s deadly serious.

“About us,” You remark as Ranger trots a bit closer to Joel. He shakes his head and your heart sinks. He can’t do this, not after you two slept together.

“There is no us,” He grumbles, unable to look you in the eyes anymore, “We can’t do that. You’re too young.”

If you weren’t on a horse, you would’ve already smacked him. “What the hell, Joel? What if you get in my pants and make me feel special and now we are nothing? Because I’m a little bit younger than you?”

“No, it’s not like that-”

“Well, it seems like it is like that,” You bite the inside of your cheeks, holding back every instinct to burst into tears, “Fuckin’ asshole. I should’ve known better.”

When the walls of Jackson come into your line of sight, you could cry with excitement. Your hands were shaking, not only from the cold but the nerves. You had been silent the entire ride back. Your only desire was to get home to your Dad and ignore Joel Miller for the rest of your life.

You can only hope and pray that your father is on the mend. To keep on track and not let panic take over, you’ve tried to put your mind on other things this whole trip. Most of those things you wish you’d forgotten, already.

The doors open when you two get close. When the crack is big enough to see through, you spot some familiar faces waiting for you. Tommy, Maria, and even your father. He’s standing up straight, wrapped in layers of jackets and blankets. You tap Ranger with your foot, getting him to speed up. When you reach about 30 feet away, you practically fall off him to get your arms around your father.

A sense of relief floods your body. A tidal wave of happiness and solace. He’s okay. He’s alive.

When his scent reaches your nose, it triggers your tear ducts. After years of never having to really worry about him, knowing he can handle himself, you have felt this constant state of uneasiness the last week.

“My baby is back,” He grumbles into your hair, his arms locking around you, “I knew I could trust that Joel.”

You don’t have time to feel guilt over your actions, you’re just so happy he’s upright. You also don’t want to hear his God-forsaken name from your own Dad. When you pull back to inspect his face, you note the tiredness in his eyes. He looks better, but not his normal. You grab each end of the blanket that’s slowly slipping off his shoulders and bundle him tighter.

“Let’s get you back in the warm, how ‘bout it?”

You glance back at Joel who just nods, knowingly. You remember that you still have your backpack on, so before you stroll away, you shimmy out of it. Tommy watches you carefully as you hand it off to Joel.

“Get those meds to the infirmary,” You whisper to no one in particular. Joel studies your face, waiting for you to say something else. You do not. As he grabs your pack, you feel like Maria and Tommy are gawking at you two. Like they know something was left unsaid.

You two move differently around each other. When you shift one direction, Joel follows suit.

Joel feels like every eye in Jackson is on him. Tommy’s being the most piercing, watching him like a hawk as he grabs his horse and guides him towards the stables. While you stroll away with Maria and your father, Joel and Tommy bring the horses and supplies to the stables.

As you walk, you listen to Maria explain your father’s steady recovery. She mentions how Ellie has been keeping a careful eye on him. After she heard you and Joel were going to be gone together, she asked Maria if she could help him somehow. Once your dad got well enough to walk, she got him settled in your house. She’d go over there for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, just to help. It makes your heart swell when you hear your dad say how kind and generous she was, just like you.

Joel starts to unpack your bags from your horse first when he gets the horses parked.

“Somethin’ happen out there?” Tommy presses, noticing how odd you and Joel moved in front of him, “With her?”

“No, nothin’,” He lies, placing your bags on a table near Ranger. When he lifted the first duffle bag, he got a whiff of you and it made his stomach sink. “We just had a rough spot in the hospital. Clickers and shit. Nothin’ too crazy-”

“Joel, I know when you’re lyin’ to me,” His eyes are shooting daggers now. Joel was too old to be pestered by his little brother. He groans in annoyance but Tommy does not give up, “What did you do?”

“I didn’t do nothin’, Tommy.”

“Bullshit,” He grumbles, grabbing one of your bags, “Want me to ask her?”

“You won’t get anythin’ out of her. She’s mad at me, okay? She is pissed I won’t…”

He feels humiliated, his stomach twisting into knots. He would never intentionally hurt you. He just put his foot in his mouth when he realized how much your actions would change everything for him. He could not just be someone you slept with. He could not just leave it.

“You won’t what, Joel?”

He bites his lip, not wanting to say it out loud.

“I won’t let her ruin her life for me.”

Tommy’s eyebrows furrow, not completely understanding what he’s droning on about.

“What?”

“Jesus Christ, Tommy!” Joel wasn’t anticipating a shake-down when he got home. You two really didn’t help with those looks splattered across your faces when you rolled into Jackson.

“You slept with her, didn’t you?”

Joel shakes his head, peeling his eyes away from Tommy. Joel knew nothing could get past him, so he is practically surrendering. Tommy knew then.

“You dumbass,” He whispers, getting closer to Joel, “You slept with her when her daddy is your patrol partner? After I told you to stay away?”

Joel clenches his teeth, “I don’t need this right now. I’m gettin’ these meds to the infirmary and then I’m takin’ her stuff to her.”

“Joel-”

“Just fuckin’ drop it, Tommy. I ain’t doin’ this.”

Your Dad has a nice setup, thanks to Ellie. She has transformed the downstairs guest room into a wonderful stay, with tons of pillows and bedside service. When you get inside the house, Ellie is there. She stands in the corner of the living room, timidly, as you guide your dad back to his warm bed. Maria and her wait for you to handle getting him back to his bedroom. Even though his recovery has been a steady incline, he’s very weak and exhausted all the time. It’s his body’s reaction to fighting a rough illness, but he made sure to reassure you that Sidney told him it’ll be a couple of weeks before he’s 100% back to normal.

You get him back in bed, his eyes already drooping to find slumber again. You manage to get his shoes off and help him under his covers. Once his head hits the pillow, you stand by the bed for a minute to ensure he’s actually sleeping. You slip out of the room, and the sudden rush of comfort of being home takes over your senses. To hear the crackling of the fireplace, and the smell of your homemade candles. While you enjoyed every moment spent with Joel, there’s nothing like home.

For a second there, you thought you had that same feeling being next to him in bed. But maybe you were wrong.

You walk out to where Maria and Ellie stand. They are mumbling to each other while you kick off your boots by the door.

“Hey, Ellie,” You catch her attention, her freckled face down turning with concern. You smile, trying to ease her, “Thank you for all you’ve done here. I am glad he had someone like you looking after him.”

She nods, her lips twitching, “It’s no problem at all. I know how much you two mean to Joel and I just wanted to do what I could.”

Hearing his name sinks your heart, “We owe ya one.”

Because you did. No matter what would eventually transpire between you and Joel, you owe him your father’s life. His idea saved him. With how sick he was, Joel’s quick plan was enough to bring him home. Then for Ellie to spend her days looking after him while you two were gone? You were forever indebted to them. Sadly.

“Well, we should leave you to get settled. Let us know if you need anything at all,” Maria gestures to Ellie towards the front door. Their footsteps trail around you, heading to your front door. Before Ellie can reach for the handle, there’s a knock. You nod your head, letting her know it’s okay to open it.

Joel stands there, your bags in his hands.

You honestly just left your belongings for him to deal with. Joel looks down at Ellie, his eyes lighting up at the sight of her. She’s not as impressed, initially.

“Hey kiddo,” Joel acknowledges, before spotting Maria, “Mrs. Miller.”

“We were just heading out,” Maria says, pushing the door wider so she and Ellie can slip by his large frame, “Give the girl her things and let her settle back into her life, huh?”

Joel was already annoyed at the narrowed eyes and judgemental jabs. It’s like everyone somehow knew he fucked up.

You two watch Maria and Ellie leave, their breaths forming clouds in the cold sharp air. Jackson’s weather changed overnight, you think, remembering how it was more tolerable before you left.

“Can I come in?” Joel ponders, still holding your backpack and duffle.

It was cold and while you wanted to slam the door on him, you know you can’t. You move away from the threshold, gesturing for him to come in. His footfalls are heavy and drawn out. You shut the door, waving him towards the living room so your voices don’t carry down the hallway to your father’s newly set up bedroom.

He places your bags on the couch before he stretches his shoulders in discomfort. Your stuff was not that heavy, but Joel could not help but try to draw your attention. He glances around your living room, taking in some of the artwork and photos that line the walls. Some are old photos of you and your father, in which you don’t really resemble him at all.

“Back to how things were, huh?” You remark, bitterly. You wanted to attack him with every mean thing plaguing your mind, but you don’t. You were tired from all the travels but you were also tired of the idea of fighting for someone who does not care to fight for you back. You had done that for years with pointless boys.

The whole walk to your house, Joel’s thoughts were moving a million miles a minute. He did not want you to live your life resenting him. He cared for you deeply, but he did not want you to miss out on all the wonders of life. Joel could not give you kids. He could not give you 40 more years of happiness. He would be an elderly man before you could even reach menopause. He does not want you to regret things when you’re old and gray.

“I don’t want that. You know damn well I don’t want that.”

You could scream. But you stay even, not giving in to the temptation to just rip him a new one.

“I don’t know what you want, Joel. One minute you’re kissin’ me and begging to be with me, the next you’re telling me you can’t be with me because I’m too young.”

“Baby-”

“No! Don’t you dare? You had no intention of making this a thing, yet you played into it and got exactly what you wanted. I’m just another notch for you, ain’t I?”

Your hands are clenched, waiting for his delayed response. You are embarrassed and humiliated that you were delusional enough to let Joel toy with every one of your emotions.

“You know that ain’t true, girl. I just don’t want you to live your life regretting that I was a part of it, okay? You want to spend your days with an old man who can’t give you everything you want? ’m not good for you.”

He can’t let you make this mistake.

But you’re not easing up.

“What do you think I want? Kids? A simple life? A picket fence? Joel those are things I wanted when I was living in a world that didn’t have a brain-eating infection that’d turn people into zombies,” You’re huffing and puffing, trying to understand why he thinks he can tell you what you need and want.

“I spent years of my life wishing I could get those things, but I gave up a long ass time ago. I don’t want those things nearly as much as I want you. I fuckin’ want you, okay?”

You realize you’re not being quiet and your Dad could probably hear every word falling from your lips. He can hear you desperately plead with Joel Miller to be with you.

Joel is shocked you’re laying all this out. He can’t believe his ears when you say you want him. A man like him being wanted is quite unbelievable, especially by a woman like you.

You could hear a pin drop with how silent your house is. You fold your arms, trying not to give into the nausea you feel from spilling your soul to him.

“I just…” He fidgets with his hands for a minute before those puppy eyes glance up at you, “I don’t want to ruin your life.”

You step closer to him, your face inches away from him. You train your eyes on his mouth, unsure how to respond to such blasphemy.

“I have spent so many days thinking about what it’d be like to live in a world where the Joel Miller would even glance in my direction. I imagined what it’d be like to kiss him,” You’re whispering now, making sure this revelation is for his ears only, “I imagined what it’d be like to have a man who’d treat me well and look… Exactly like you. I have dreamed of you.”

Joel would have never guessed such a statement fall from your lips.

You breathe out, relieved it’s finally off your chest.

“I just don’t want to leave ya worse than I found ya,” His softness instantly makes you crumble into his arms. He holds you tight, before pulling away to search your face. You teeter forward on your toes, pressing a firm but attentive kiss to his lips.

When you draw back, “I’m not givin’ you up, Joel.”

The tension is shattered when you hear your Dad yell your name from down the hallway. You snap out of your trance of staring at Joel’s beautiful lips and dart toward the voice.

“Yeah?”

You open the door and see him, his eyes wide open and focused on the door.

“Who you talking to out there? Is that Joel?”

Suddenly you’re hyper-aware of every word you just said, scared half to death that your Dad would get out of bed and beat some sense into you. Joel follows you down the dimly lit hallway, but you don’t even hear him, too rattled by your father’s question.

“Yes, it’s me,” Joel speaks up, coming forward to meet your Dad’s confused expression, “How you feelin’, man?”

“I’m feelin’ like I’m hearing some odd things from down the hall. You two fighting?” His voice is breaking a bit.

The silence after he asks the question is deafening. You glance over to Joel whose mouth is slightly ajar, unable to move with an answer. You bite the inside of your cheek, wishing you could disappear into the wall nearby.

Joel cannot lie to his friend. He certainly would never do it with you right beside him.

“Yeah, you uh, heard us?” He barely manages.

“Yeah, I sure as hell heard my daughter beggin’ you to take her on, is that true?”

“Dad-“

“My daughter wants to date a man that’s 10 years younger than her own father? Kind of twisted.” He snaps, shoving the blankets off his legs. “But, I am gonna be honest… I expected this.”

You can hardly breathe with the tension in the air.

“Sorry?”

Joel’s tone is dry, and he’s unable to fully form a coherent thought.

Your dad coughs before he starts, “Well, I could tell by the way you looked at her that you had a thing for her, Miller. Didn’t think you’d be dumb enough to entertain it.”

“Dad, he’s not dum-“

“And I thought you’d get over this little schoolgirl crush, but I was mistaken, I guess.”

You were used to your Dad’s sarcasm and upfront jabs. You spent a lifetime throwing them back at him, but this time you had nothing to say. You watch as he settles back from obnoxiously tearing off his blankets.

You fiddle with your fingers, trying not to show your internal anxiety-riddled monologue. He thought you’d get over your crush. He always noticed how Joel looked at you. How did he look at you? How did you never notice?

Joel is spiraling, reverting to his original conclusions. He knew this was a horrible idea. He should have never stepped over the line. He’s a horrible man. You don’t deserve someone as awful as him.

He smacks his lips, making you and Joel come back down to Earth and out of your heads.

“Whatever is happenin’ between you two, I probably will never fully understand it. But you are adults, you do whatever makes you happy,” He says with both hands up in surrender, “I am too old to bother with my daughter’s love life. She’s a big girl, I trust her. But Miller, if you hurt her-“

“I’m a dead man.”

Your father laughs which in turn makes you smile crookedly.

“Just one thing,” He points to you, “I don't want to hear or see anythin’-”

You nod, cutting him off immediately, “Deal.”

Joel catches your eye when he smiles in your peripheral vision. You look over at him, a grin plastered to your face.

You can’t believe you’re actually going to do this.

And Joel can’t believe your father somewhat agreed to let it happen. He was sure he would have a gun in his face before he could even mutter a word. But instead, your Dad is receptive to him being with you, which is all you can ask for.

“Well, get along now, I wanna get back to sleep. You two were keepin’ me up,” Your dad grumbles, readjusting his frail frame to get comfortable in bed. You just nod, pointing at the door for Joel to exit. You follow suit, closing the door behind you tightly, making sure it clicks. Joel stands in the darkness of the hallway, waiting. He is in disbelief.

You just take one of his hands and bring it to your lips, softly pressing a kiss into his knuckles.

“Let’s go get cleaned up and take a nap,” You murmur, walking him to the end of the hallway to the bottom of the stairs. He accepts the offer, trailing behind you like a lost puppy.

You were not sure where this was all going to end up. Neither of you did. But you could not wait to carve the way with him, bringing every last one of your daydreams to life.

THE END

or is it? I have started writing snippets to go along with this story- if you want more, here's the link:

No One Fucks With My Baby

#joel miller fic #joel miller #joel x reader #joel miller x fem reader #joel miller smut #pedro pascal #joel miller the last of us #joel miller tlou #joel the last of us #joel miller fanfic #joel last of us smut #joel miller x reader #the last of us #post outbreak joel #dbf joel #dbf joel miller #gracieheartspedro #fic: who we are

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mari-positas · 1 year ago

Text

fall into temptation | three

Jackson! Joel Miller x Preacher’s Daughter Reader

series masterlist

summary: Of all the women to catch Joel Miller’s attention—it just had to be one of the goddamned preacher’s daughters.

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. SLIGHT PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION OF READER, mentions of her hair which she can put up into braids as well as her style of clothing. despite the nickname Joel gives her, it does not speak to her body type or size. AGE GAP (reader is in her 20’s and Joel is 56). several mentions of religion and religious symbols, reader has a father and two sisters, all who come with names, reader gets put into a a very uncomfortable situation, insecurity, anxiety, Seth is an asshole, protective Joel, he threatens to break someone’s jaw which is a warning in and of itself. SMUT. loss of virginity, reader is inexperienced but not totally clueless, oral (both m and f receiving), risky unprotected p in v sex (please wrap it up), lots of praise and pet names (baby, babygirl, honey, you know, the works), Joel gets a teensy bit rough, creampie, hint of aftercare, ends with a cliffhanger, but also not really if you think about it?

MOODBOARD FOR AESTHETIC PURPOSES ONLY, NO MENTION OF RACE OR BODY TYPE.

word count: 10k

a/n: it was not my intention to post this on jesus day, but here we are. this took forever and a day considering the second part was posted back in september, but i am so so proud of myself for finally completing a wip i could cry. i did a bulk of the editing while i’ve been sick and in all honesty i probably should have asked someone to beta for me because i think i coughed out like 90% of my brain cells this week, but i think it turned out okay. ish.

Somehow, even over the volume of the live music, you could still hear their hushed, astonished whispers.

“Are you seeing what I’m seeing?”

“Is that Joel Miller with Pastor John’s daughter?”

“What’s she doing holding his hand?”

“He’s got to be at least twice her fucking age—”

Throat bobbing anxiously, you glanced up at Joel.

His shoulders were squared back, his head held high.

Solid. Steady.

Joel couldn’t seem to care less about the bewildered stares, the judgment that was being flung his way. Not once did he seem to waver. But you?

Oh, you were already starting to crumble underneath it all, on the verge of falling apart right before everyone’s prying eyes. Shame sat heavily inside of your chest, the weight of the feeling suffocating you, making it harder and harder to breathe as it prevented air from reaching your lungs.

It had nothing to do with Joel. Of course it didn’t. It had all to do with you and with who you were. Their beloved preacher’s sweet, innocent young daughter.

His youngest daughter.

Suddenly, the whispers were no longer whispers.

“Oh God, she’s not going home with him, is she?”

“That’s not right! Someone should say something!”

“Pastor John would never allow something like this.”

“Poor thing’s naive—she doesn’t know any better.”

Hot, stubborn tears of frustration glazed over your eyes and threatened to spill. It was as if you were a child who didn’t know any better, a gullible, clueless little girl with nothing in her brain who needed to be rescued—saved from the bad, bad man before he did bad, bad things to her.

Had it been anyone else, no one would have batted an eye. No one would have noticed, let alone cared. But it was you that Joel Miller was leaving the bar with in the middle of the night and it was you whose hand he had clasped in his own. That is what made it wrong. That is why it was a problem.

Everyone’s concerns had nothing to do with him at all, they had everything to do with you. You, you, you. You were the sole reason why it was a problem, the reason why he was being perceived as the Devil himself, horns out as he dragged the poor little unsuspecting angel down to the fires of Hell.

“Joel?” Overwhelmed, you instinctively reached for his arm with your free hand. Cold and trembling, your little fingers curled tightly around his bicep, digging into the firm, bulging muscle through the thick corduroy fabric of his sleeve. You whispered his name again. “Joel—”

“S’alright, babygirl,” he reassured you quietly over his shoulder. He gave your hand a comforting squeeze. “S’alright. Just keep your eyes on me, sweetheart. I’ve got you. You just keep on lookin’ right at me, okay?”

Nodding, you inhaled deeply and focused on him. Only him. The broadness of his back and his shoulders. Tufts of hair that curled over the collar of his shirt. Only him. He’s what mattered. He’s all that mattered.

“Almost there,” Joel murmured, squeezing your hand again as the door came into view. “Breathe, baby. We’re almost there. I’ve got you. You’re alright. Ain’t gonna let anythin’ bad happen to you. Promise I’ve got you.”

It wasn’t until his fingers wrapped around the old, brass handle that you finally exhaled the breath you had been holding out in utter relief, though it was very, very short lived. Just as Joel pulled the door open, you felt a hand wrap around your arm. Dry, slender fingers dug into the soft flesh above your elbow as an attempt, and a feeble one at that, was made to tear you out of Joel’s grasp.

The music stopped and the bar fell silent. Everything and everyone came to a sudden standstill, freezing mid dance, mid drink, mid bite, mid gossip.

Shocked, you glanced over your shoulder. “Seth?” you squeaked his name. “What—what are you doing?”

Seth didn’t acknowledge you. His focus was on Joel.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing, Miller?”

Joel’s anger couldn’t be seen, but it could be felt. So palpable you could have wrapped your fingers around it. It radiated off of him and loomed over the entire bar like an incoming storm cloud. Threatening. Dangerous.

“Where are you taking her?” Seth demanded, his other hand curling around your wrist as he tried, but failed, to snatch you from Joel’s side once more. “Let the girl go! You let her go right now, you hear?”

Caught in between the two men, you nervously turned to look at Joel. Nostrils flared, jaw clenched, seething eyes that did the talking for him. His message was loud and oh so abundantly clear.

If Seth didn't take his hands off you, he wasn’t going to have any hands.

Not after Joel Miller was through with him.

Blazing heat flooded your face. As if it couldn’t possibly get any worse, everyone had now gathered around you to watch the tense encounter, eyes wide, brows raised and jaws practically on the weathered, hardwood floor.

Tommy Miller stood among the crowd, subtly shaking his head, his lips pressed together in a tight, thin line of disapproval as he glowered at his older brother. Would he be looking at Joel like that had it been Esther in your place? If she was the one he was taking home? Would any of this be happening if it was her instead of you?

“Seth.” Uttering his name, you shifted your attention back to him. You sounded calm and collected, despite feeling anything but. Joel’s hand in yours was the only thing keeping you steady and grounded. His touch was the only reason you hadn’t yet spiraled into a state of panic. Clearing your throat lightly, you spoke again and tried your hardest not to waver. “Please let go of me.”

Still fixed on Joel, he spat, “I’ll be damned if I let him take you anywhere.”

“He’s not taking me anywhere, Seth.” Without thinking, the words came tumbling out of your mouth—loud and clear for everyone in that room to hear. “He isn’t forcing me to go with him. I’m making the choice to leave with him. Out of my own volition. Please let go of me.”

Finally, Seth looked at you. His old, worn features were twisted in disbelief. “What?”

You swallowed dryly. Part of you wanted you to shrink away, curl into yourself. Instead, you straightened your posture, forced yourself to stand a little bit taller. Willed yourself to have a backbone for once in your life.

“You heard me,” you said, lifting your chin in defiance. Several onlookers gasped in surprise at your rebellion. Where had this insolence come from? “I’m choosing to leave with Joel. Now, please let go of my arm.”

Behind you, Joel stood silent and still.

Watching. Observing. Waiting.

He wanted nothing more than to intervene. Rip you out of Seth’s hands and shatter each and every last bone in all ten of his fingers for putting them on you. Had Joel not realized that this was probably the first time in your whole, entire life you’d mustered up the courage to use your voice, he would have easily given into the urge. He wanted to protect you. He needed so badly to protect you. Yet, he knew you weren’t helpless or incapable of standing on your own two feet. He knew you deserved the chance to stand up and speak for yourself after a lifetime of being silenced, a lifetime of being forced to stay in your place, seen but never heard.

“Seth, let go of my arm,” you repeated. It was no longer a polite request. It was a demand.

He scoffed. “Do you honestly think I’m going to let you leave with somebody like him? You think I’m just going to stand back and let him take advantage of you?”

Oh, you hadn’t liked that insinuation, not one bit.

It caused something inside of you to finally give way.

Snap.

The blood in your veins boiled, ran hot enough to make you feel like you were about to burn from the inside out. “Joel isn’t taking advantage of me! It isn’t like that,” you seethed, furiously. The quiet, well mannered, obedient good girl everyone in Jackson knew was gone. And she could stay gone. In your periphery, you could see Leah elbowing her way through the sea of people to the front of the crowd with an incredulous look plastered on her face. She stood there beside Tommy, who appeared to be just as incredibly bewildered by your outburst. “Don’t treat me like I’m some child who doesn’t know any better! I’m an adult and I’m old enough to make my own choices, okay?”

For a moment, you had forgotten it was Seth standing there in front of you.

“I’m capable of making my own decisions! I don’t need you to dictate my life. I don’t need you to tell me what is and isn’t good for me—controlling what I should and shouldn’t believe in.” Your voice trembled as emotions you’d been suppressing for years bubbled their way up to the surface. Amidst the chaos, you could feel Joel squeeze your hand again, as if silently encouraging you not to lose your nerve. He was your anchor, the only person who could keep your world from capsizing. You knew he wouldn’t let you drown. Not even God, who you had always been forced to believe was your pillar of strength, had ever made you feel this protected. Safe. “I don’t need you to tell me how to live and much less when it’s the end of the world.”

It wasn’t Seth you were addressing.

It was your father.

Your father, who controlled every last thing, from what you would eat to the way that you dressed and how you wore your hair.

Your father, who refused to let you have a mind of your own, who simply could not bear the mere thought of you thinking for yourself.

Your father, whose love felt like shackles, heavy, rusted metal restraints that had been digging into the flesh of your wrists for far, far too long.

“You need to let me go now,” you said, swallowing back the lump in your throat. Once more, you caught Leah from the corner of your eye, your heart lurching in your chest when you noticed her desperately trying to wipe at her eyes with the back of her hand. She was the only person in the room who understood how you felt. Her rebelliousness only ever masked the pain of knowing her father’s love came with terms and conditions—and the fear of knowing what would happen if those terms and conditions weren’t met. For several weeks, you’d gotten a taste of what she went through everyday, how her fear of putting her foot down led her to run around in secret and live a double life. “Just let me go.”

Seth firmly shook his head. “No! I’m not letting you go anywhere with him. I don’t know what the hell he did to you, but he’s clearly got you all fucking brainwashed.”

That was fucking enough. Joel stepped in, lowering his voice as he said, “Y’know, I’ve just ‘bout lost count of how many fuckin’ times she’s asked you to let her go now and it’s really startin’ to piss me off.” Raising an eyebrow, he laid his offer out on the table. “Here’s the deal. You let go of her right now and I won’t shatter your fuckin’ jaw into pieces. That seem fair enough to you?”

“No.” Seth gripped your arm even harder, prompting you to let out a little yelp as his nails dug painfully into your skin. Though it’d been accidental and he hadn’t meant to hurt you, it didn’t matter. He’d just set off the ticking time bomb that was Joel Miller.

Furious, Joel snatched a fistful of his shirt with his free hand—the other still held yours. Gentle, despite being mere moments away from beating someone to within an inch of their life.

“Joel! Stop!” Tommy’s voice broke through the tension as he approached. His footsteps were slow—careful and cautious, as if he was afraid to make any kind of sudden movement. “Joel. Hey. C’mon now, let’s not do this, alright? Ain’t gotta handle things this way. We can talk it through. No need for anyone to wind up bleedin’ in the fuckin’ infirmary tonight, so just take a breath and let him go.”

Blatantly ignoring Tommy’s attempt to keep the peace, Joel tugged Seth forward, yanking him closer. “Listen to me and listen to me good ‘cause I ain’t gonna fuckin’ say it again. You’d best take your fuckin’ hands off her right now unless you wanna spend the rest of the night sweepin’ up your teeth off the floor of your own fuckin’ bar,” he threatened, his tone enough to send a chill up anyone’s spine, even your own.

“You wouldn’t dare, Miller.” Somehow, Seth managed to keep a straight face, but you could see it so clearly in his eyes and in the tremble of his lower lip—oh, he was terrified of Joel and rightly so. “Not in front of all these people. Not in front of your brother. That wouldn’t be a smart move considering you’re already on thin fucking ice for what you did to that boy’s face, now would it?”

Joel tugged him closer. “Test me,” he hissed through gritted teeth. “Go on. Fuckin’ test me.”

His challenge was immediately met with a pathetic look of defeat. Seth dropped your arm and he was released.

“S’what I fuckin’ thought.” Without another word to the man, Joel whirled around and roughly pulled the door open, leading the way outside. As you both descended the building’s old, creaking wooden steps, you began to shiver and he suddenly remembered he’d left his jacket behind inside the bar. He wrapped an arm around your shoulders. “C’mere, my little dove,” he murmured as he tucked you against his side for warmth. “I’ve got you.”

The first thing he did was light the fireplace.

“Should start warmin’ you up, sweet girl,” he’d said to you over his shoulder. He tossed a log into the blaze as you sat perched on his couch rubbing your bare arms with your hands. “M’gonna go upstairs and find you a blanket, alright? You stay put.”

“Okay,” you’d mumbled, knowing there was no point in telling him not to fuss over you.

Even with the soft, fleece throw blanket he had draped around your shoulders and the warmth of the flames in front of you, you continued trembling. Subtle, but he’d noticed it, felt it when he had sat down beside you and pulled you close against his side. “Oh baby, you’re still shakin’?” That was when he realized you weren’t cold. Frowning, Joel rose to his feet and disappeared down the hallway. He came back to the living room a minute later with a glass of water in his hand. With a small, labored grunt, he dropped to one knee in front of you and held it out. “Here.”

“No, thank you.” You shook your head. “I’m not thirsty.”

“Maybe not, but I’m kinda worried you could be in a bit of shock right now,” he stated, the creases in between his brows deepening as he observed you for any other physical signs of distress. Carefully, Joel lifted the glass to your lips, gently coaxing you to take a drink. “C’mon, darlin’. Think you can be a real good girl for me and at least take a couple sips? Hm?”

Sighing softly, you nodded and did as he asked of you, taking a small sip of water. It soothed your dry mouth and throat and you took another one. Maybe you were thirsty after all.

“Little more, now. Little more. That’s it. That’s my good girl.” Once he was satisfied with how much you’d had to drink, Joel set the half empty glass down on the oak coffee table behind him. He turned back to you, placing his large hands on either side of your thighs below the hem of your dress. He started tracing soft, soothing circles into your skin with his thumbs. “M’real proud of you for standin’ up for yourself back there, sweetheart. Took a whole lot of fuckin’ courage to do that, y’know.”

You glanced down at your hands in your lap. “Mhm.”

“Baby. Hey. Look at me.” One of his hands abandoned your leg and he reached up, delicately taking your chin between his thumb and index finger. He tilted your face upwards, his worried gaze meeting your own. “Talk to me. M’right here.”

“That—that was a lot,” you admitted meekly, shoulders sagging as the adrenaline started wearing off and your body slowly came down from the peak hormone rush. “It was a lot.”

Sighing, Joel’s hand fell away from your face. “Yeah, I know it was a lot, babygirl. I know. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have—”

“No.” You were quick to cut him off. “Don’t be sorry.”

His chest heaved with another sigh, this one deeper, heavier, bearing the weight of his guilt. “Well I am,” he said. He planted his hands on either side of you on the couch and lightly shook his head. “Didn’t even fuckin’ think twice when I pulled you outta that fuckin’ supply closet and took your hand in front of all those people. I was so fuckin’ hellbent on showin’ everybody you were mine that I didn’t even stop and think ‘bout what all it would mean for you. It was selfish of me. Real fuckin’ selfish. And I’m sorry, little dove.”

“Do you regret it?” you asked, quietly.

Joel chuckled in spite of himself. “M’pretty sure I’m the one who should be askin’ you that question, darlin’,” he remarked. “Tell me. Do you regret it? Do you regret me pullin’ you outta that closet?” He momentarily paused. There was a stutter in his heartbeat when you dropped your gaze away from his, silence your only reply. “Do you regret me takin’ your hand in front of everyone?”

Of course not.

You wanted to be his and you wanted everyone to know it. There was no regret, none.

Still.

The consequences that you would undoubtedly have to face in the morning were overwhelming. Daunting.

Surely, by then, your father would know about you and Joel. When he came downstairs right after sunrise and he discovered you weren’t in the kitchen helping Lydia prepare breakfast, he would question where you were and make some kind of remark about how you should not be sleeping in this late. He would tell her just how irresponsible it was for you to ignore your duties and obligations to him and the family. Sloth was one of the seven deadly sins, after all. He would make her trek upstairs and wake you, and when she did, your sister would find your bed empty.

Meanwhile, there would be a knock at the front door.

No stranger to having members of the congregation show up on his doorstep when they were in need, be it of prayer or comfort, your father would answer it only to find someone, not in need of solace, but who felt that it was their responsibility and moral obligation to inform him that they had seen his youngest daughter leaving The Tipsy Bison with Joel Miller in the middle of the night, hand in hand.

He wouldn’t believe them.

“Now, that is simply not true,” he would say, offended that anybody would have the nerve to show up at his door and accuse you of something so vile. “That’s not possible. I know my daughter and she would never do such a thing. It must have been someone else that you saw with him. Someone who looked like her, perhaps.”

Then, Lydia would descend the staircase and tell him you weren’t in your bedroom. “She must have gone up to the main street as soon as she woke up,” she would suggest with a shrug, not yet privy to the events that had taken place the night before at the party you and Leah had snuck off to. She never had to worry about you, the good one. “I did notice we were running pretty low on eggs. Sugar, too. She probably wanted to be the first in line at the pantry to—Papa? What’s the matter?”

The color would drain from your father’s face when the realization slowly sank in. No, you weren’t out on the main street picking up eggs for breakfast and sugar for his tea. You were lying up in Joel Miller’s bed—defiled, impure, and with the curse of Eve on your flesh. Even after dedicating his entire life to making sure you did not stray from the path of righteousness, he had failed. You had fallen into temptation.

There was a chance he would have mercy on you. All you had to do was beg and plead for his forgiveness—and more importantly, for the forgiveness of God. “Vow to atone for your sins,” your father would say, his gaze fixed on the Holy Bible in his lap. He probably wouldn’t be able to look at you, not after what you had done. “Repent. And swear to me, child, that you will never so much as glance in that man’s direction ever again.”

No. That’s not what you wanted.

You wanted Joel and the freedom to be with him.

But that freedom came with a high, high price.

You were willing to pay it, but you’d be lying if you said you were prepared to navigate the consequences. Then again, was there really any way for someone to prepare themselves to be shunned by their own father?

“I can take you home,” Joel offered quietly, the sound of his voice taking you out of the future and bringing you back into the present.

“What?”

“I can take you home,” he repeated himself. “I can take you home right now if that’s what you want, sweet girl. Won’t give you any kinda grief ‘bout it.”

Confused, all you could do was stare at him.

“Listen to me, baby. You mean a lot to me. More than I can even begin to explain,” Joel reassured you before any kind of doubt could find its way into your mind. “I want you to stay with me. There’s nothin’ on what’s left of this fuckin’ earth I want more than for you to stay here with me. But what you want matters to me a hell of a lot more than what I want.” He reached up, lightly stroking your cheek with his thumb. “If you decide you wanna go home and go back to your family—back to your old man—then that’s where I’ll take you. Okay?”

Your father would give you an ultimatum. But Joel? He was giving you a choice. And he’d respect that choice.

“I wanna free you from your cage, my little dove. But I think we both know you’ve gotta make the choice to fly outta there on your own.” He lightly swept his thumb over your quivering bottom lip, his eyes meeting yours as he whispered, “Door’s wide open for you. What you do next is all up to you.”

“I’m afraid, Joel,” you confessed. A tear slipped from the corner of your eye and rolled its way down the side of your face. He was quick to wipe it away, along with the others that followed. “I do want out of my cage. I really, really do. But I’m terrified. All I have ever known is my family and my faith. I have never been apart from my father and my sisters.”

His expression softened. “I know you’re scared. Can’t promise you things will be easy, but there is one thing I can promise you.”

“What’s that?” you questioned, then waited with baited breath.

He gingerly cupped your cheek in his large palm. “I’ve got you,” he swore to you, just like he had done so back at the bar. “If you decide to stay, I promise I’ll take real, real good care of you, alright? For the rest of my life, I’ll take care of you. You won’t ever have to worry ‘bout a thing with me by your side. Swear it on my life.”

Warmth blossomed in your heartspace and finally, you stopped trembling. Lifting a hand, you curled your fingers around his wrist as your gaze fell to his mouth. “Joel?”

“What is it, darlin’ girl?”

“Kiss me. Please.”

With a gentle nod, Joel’s other hand found your hip, the warmth of it seeping through the cotton fabric of your dress. Leaning in, he brushed his lips against yours. It was a chaste thing, soft and innocent until you grabbed the collar of his shirt and pulled him closer to you. “Babygirl,” he mumbled against your lips. He deepened the kiss, sweeping his tongue through your parted lips and into your mouth. He tasted like bold bourbon and citrus beer. There was a faint hint of tobacco too—you recalled him admitting to you one night in the church house that while he wasn’t all that much of a smoker, at least not like he used to be when living in the zones, he would occasionally partake in the habit if he happened to come across a pack of cigarettes while out on patrol, pairing the nicotine with a drink. He tasted delicious. He tasted delicious because he tasted like yours.

You sank back into the worn, supple brown leather of his couch, tugging him forward so he sank in with you. Over you. Releasing your near death grip on his collar, you managed to wedge your hands in between your bodies and began to claw furiously at the buttons of his shirt, your fingers shaking out of pure desperation to feel him. It wasn’t until you were halfway down that he finally noticed what you were doing and leaned back, catching both of your wrists.

“Baby, wait,” he panted, shaking his head. “Don’t think now’s a good time for that—”

“Joel, please,” you pleaded, the intense ache between your thighs almost too much for you to bear. “Please. I want it. I want you.”

“S’been a rough night for you.” Joel’s voice was hoarse—strained, like he was aching just as much, if not more. “You’re real emotional right now. Vulnerable. Last thing I want is to take advantage of you at a time like this.”

You frowned. Had Seth’s words gotten into his head?

“You’re not taking advantage of me.”

“Darlin’ I just don’t think we should—”

“Joel, please,” you begged him again. “I was so good for you, was I not? Wasn’t I patient, just like you asked me to be?”

His lips thinned into a tight line. He wouldn’t be able to resist much longer. You, his beautiful little temptress of Eden.

“I waited for so long,” you reminded him. “I’ve been so, so good for you. Please, just make me yours already. I don’t want to think about anything else right now. I just want to be with you. Please, Joel. I need you so badly it hurts.”

Christ.

No man could stand it. No man could possibly have the strength to deny you.

With a look of utter defeat, he folded. Before he could say another word or make another move, your greedy mouth was on his, and you kissed him with fervor, with urgency, as you finished the task of unbuttoning his shirt. Pushing it off of his shoulders, the corduroy fabric fell into a crumpled heap behind him, nearly knocking the glass of water off the coffee table. You broke away from him and shamelessly marveled at his mouth watering form—you admired the way miles of smooth, tanned skin stretched over his wide shoulders, broad chest and soft, soft belly. Arousal pooled between your legs and you reached out and raked your fingers down his chest, and over his stomach, going lower and lower, following the trail of coarse, dark hair that led you to his brown leather belt. You clumsily started fumbling with the brass buckle until he caught your hands once more.

“Slow down, my little dove,” he murmured. “No need to rush this. We’ve got all night.” He stood up and held his hand out to you. Time blurred a bit—maybe it was your nervousness mingled with the eager anticipation of what was to come, but there seemed to be a small gap in your memory, a blank space that spanned from the moment you rose off the couch until the moment you found yourself standing in his bedroom where you were about to answer to the call of the flesh.

Dropping your hand, Joel switched on the lamp on his bedside table and kicked off his boots before taking you into his arms. “C’mere, honey.” He nuzzled your cheek with the tip of his nose as he spoke, the scruff of his beard tickling your cheek. “Couple’a rules, sweet girl. I do somethin’ that you don’t like, you tell me. You want me to stop, you tell me to sto—”

Without waiting for him to finish his sentence, you slowly lowered yourself down onto the floor and knelt at his feet with purpose, as if kneeling before an altar, a sacred, holy space. Though you felt anxious, you were eager to worship. “I haven’t forgotten about what I said earlier tonight,” you cooed, noticing the mild look of surprise on his face. “I said I’d make it up to you and I intend on keeping my word.”

All the blood in his body rushed south to his cock and it strained painfully against the crotch of his jeans. “Baby, I—” Again, he was cut off, only this time by the sound of his own groan when your hand brushed up the front of his thigh and over his growing bulge. He glanced down, his heart thrumming painfully hard against his sternum as he watched you reach for his belt buckle.

With all your might, you willed your hands so as not to tremble. It was self-explanatory, what you were about to do, but your total lack of experience sowed seeds of doubt into your mind—you wanted to make him feel good, just like he had made you feel good outside of the church house during services. Just how you knew he would make you feel tonight.

Hand still over his buckle, you pressed the tenderest of kisses to his bulge through his jeans. Then, turning your head, you rested your cheek on one of his thick, blue denim clad thighs and peered up at him through your eyelashes with a small, nervous smile as you confessed what he already knew. “I’ve never done this before.”

Oh, how sweet and endearing you were. Joel reached down and smoothed your hair back and away from your face, tucking it behind your ear. “S’alright, honey,” he crooned, grazing the silkiness of your cheek with his index finger. “I’ll walk you through it. Teach you how to be a real good girl and suck my cock just the way I like it. That what you want, my little dove?”

His filth made your cunt clench hard around nothing.

Slowly lifting your head off of his thigh, you pulled your bottom lip between your teeth and managed a clear, consenting nod as your hands fumbled with his buckle, the clinking sound of metal ringing loudly in your ears. You undid the button on his jeans and pulled down his zipper, your throat drying when you saw the outline of him, his size intimidating even behind the cotton fabric of his faded, black boxer briefs.

With a harsh swallow, you glanced up at him, silently asking him for his permission to continue.

Such a polite little thing, Joel thought to himself. “Go on, sweetheart,” he encouraged.

You tugged his jeans down to the middle of his thighs and hooked your index fingers underneath the elastic waistband of his boxer briefs, pulling them down and freeing his cock. There was a deep, swooping sensation in your belly as you watched it slap up against the lower part of his abdomen. After many nights of sitting in his lap, feeling him through his clothes, grinding your cunt down onto him, you thought you’d at the very least had an idea of what you would be in for, but oh, how wrong you had been. He was so much bigger than you could have imagined, and your stomach swooped again when you realized he was not going to fit. Anywhere.

Licking away the dryness of your lips, you take him in one of your hands, feeling the heaviness of his length in your palm. He was so long and so, so thick.

“Oh fuck,” Joel hissed the curse through gritted teeth, his hips jerking forward involuntarily as your touch sent a charged jolt of electricity shooting up the length of his spine. He looked down at you, his pupils blown wide with arousal. Christ. You hadn’t even done anything to him yet, but seeing you sitting so prettily at his feet was almost enough to make him come on the spot.

Delicately wrapping your hand around him, you found yourself almost in awe at the way your fingertips barely, just barely, touched. The sheer size of his cock dwarfed your hand, and made it seem so much smaller than it really was.

“You’re so big,” you murmured, echoing your thoughts. You licked at your lips again, suddenly feeling ravenous, an appetite that had seemingly come out of nowhere making you salivate. The tip of him was flushed red, slit already glistening—how badly you wanted, needed a taste. Never, ever, did you think you would be down on your knees for anything but prayer, but there you were, starved and desperate to bite into the forbidden fruit.

“What’re you waitin’ for, darlin’ girl?” he croaked.

“Permission,” you replied, sweetly.

“Go right ahead, baby. S’all yours—I’m all yours.”

Yours.

Yours, yours, yours.

Finding your first push of courage, you leaned forward and so carefully swept your tongue along the tip of his length, collecting the slight saltiness leaking from the slit and getting your first delectable taste. With your hand still wrapped firmly around his base, you looked up, your eyes locked on Joel’s face as you flicked your tongue up against the rigid underside of his cock.

“Fuckin’ Christ,” Joel groaned, all of the muscles in his stomach already pulling taut when he felt you dragging your tongue in a slow, purposeful lick along the length of him. “Babygirl.”

“Is that good?” you asked him, sounding hopeful. “Am I doing good?”

“Doin’ so, so fuckin’ good for me, sweetheart. Look so fuckin’ pretty down on your knees for me.”

Pleased, you wrapped your mouth around the head of his length, pressing forward and taking him in as far as you possibly could—which, in all fairness, wasn’t very far. At least not as far as you would have liked. Another groan tore itself from the depths of his chest as your plush, plump lips sealed around him, your tongue warm and wet on the underside of his cock. Moving both of your hands to rest on the sides of his thighs, you began to move your head back and forth, following what felt most natural to you. The nerves you initially felt slowly but surely dissipated, vanishing one by one with every curse, every tremble, every sharp breath.

Joel resisted the urge to buck his hips forward, fought the desire to feel himself at the back of your throat. He needed to be gentle, so careful with such an innocent, pliant thing who had much, much to learn. “Sweet little fuckin’ mouth feels so good around my cock, baby, just like I fuckin’ knew it would. Y’think it can take more of me, little dove? Hm?”

You hummed, the vibration intensifying his pleasure.

“Yeah? Y’trust me?”

Your reply came in the form of a muffled, “Mhm.”

Joel reached down and cradled the back of your head in the palm of his hand. He carefully guided you further onto his throbbing length, slowly feeding you one inch at a time. Your fingers dug into the denim of his jeans. He was much more than a mouthful for you, and you could only take about half of him before he hit the back of your throat, prompting you to gag around him. Drool dribbled out from the corners of your mouth and down the sides your chin, dripping onto your lap.

“Oh fuck, sweetheart. Yeah, that’s it. Little more now, honey,” Joel encouraged. He bucked his hips forward, his head slipping further down your throat. Just when you felt like you were about to choke, he pulled out and you tried your hardest not to cough and sputter as you took in a much needed, precious breath of air. He gave you a few seconds or so to finish catching your breath as he shoved his jeans and boxer briefs further down his legs. He stepped out of the articles of clothing and kicked them somewhere off to the aside, standing before you completely bare. “Open up.”

Your absolute devotion to him bred sweet submission, so as worried as you were that you wouldn’t be able to handle it, you nodded obediently and very willingly did as you were told.

He guided himself right back into your waiting mouth, pressing deeply. You tried to relax your jaw, reminding yourself to breathe in and out through your nose. Tears streamed down the sides of your face as you did your best to forestall another gag. “Little bit more,” he said, thrusting his hips in a slow, steady controlled rhythm. He advanced even further into your mouth—trusting he wouldn’t suffocate you, nor push you too far past your limits, you opened up wider. He moaned, “Yeah, baby. That’s my good girl. That’s my good fuckin’ girl.”

With a bit of newfound confidence, you hollowed your cheeks and sucked him. You swiped your tongue along the thick, prominent vein on the underside of his cock, earning yourself more of his sweet, sweet praise.

“Fuck, yeah, suck me off, sweetheart. This pretty little mouth was fuckin’ made for sin,” he breathed, guiding your head back and forth with a firm, but gentle hand.

You moaned, the noise muffled around his length. Slick soaked through your panties and coated the insides of your thighs. With another moan, you tightly squeezed your legs together, inwardly reminding yourself that patience was a virtue.

Noticing the way you had shifted, Joel moved his hand from the back of your head, lightly curling his fingers around your jaw. He pulled you off of his cock, a loud, lewd popping sound bouncing off the sage green walls of his bedroom. “C’mere, baby.” He grabbed your arms, effortlessly hoisting you up to your feet.

“What’s wrong?” you questioned him worriedly. “Did I do something wrong?”

Chuckling softly, he brushed a finger along the strap of your dress. You could do no wrong, his perfect, perfect girl. “Of course not, sweet girl. You did so fuckin’ good for me,” Joel reassured you, lightly tracing along your collarbone with his finger and making your flesh erupt in goosebumps. He leaned forward and feathered a kiss onto your lips, murmuring against them, “Are you wet, little dove?”

Before you could even process the query and generate some kind of coherent response, he dove his opposite hand between your thighs, cupping your warm heat in his palm. At this, your weak knees buckled, prompting you to reach out and grab onto his arms to hold steady and keep yourself from falling into a helpless heap on the floor.

“Oh, honey. You’re soaked. That what sucking my cock does to you?” he cooed. He peppered another kiss, this one onto the corner of your mouth. His voice lowered another octave. “Poor little thing. She needs me, don’t she? Needs me to take care of her?”

You whimpered. “Yes.”

“Manners, babygirl,” he reminded you, skimming your cheek with his nose. “Yes, what?”

“Yes, please.”

Humming in approval, Joel withdrew his hand from in between your legs and guided you backwards towards his bed. “Sit,” he commanded gently, bidding you to let go of him. “Arms up.”

Reaching for the hem of your dress, he took great care in pulling it over your head, then discarded the vibrant yellow material over his shoulder, leaving you in nothing but your cowboy boots and thin, cotton white panties. Without a word, he knelt before you and pulled off one boot, and then the other, setting them both aside. He hooked two fingers underneath the elastic waistband of your underwear, coaxing you to lift your bottom off of the bed, just long enough for him to pull them down and slide them down your legs. He was so tender in the manner in which he undressed you.

“Fuckin’ beautiful, beautiful girl,” Joel praised. His dark gaze dragged down the length of your body as you sat before him wearing nothing but the delicate, gold chain around your neck. The holy cross nestled between your supple breasts gleamed in the light of the lamp on the nightstand. He would leave it on until your decision was made, set in stone. “My pretty little dove.”

“Joel.” You whimpered his name, hands curling around fistfuls of his dark blue sheets. You were drenched now, in dire need of some relief. If he didn’t touch you where you needed him most, you would surely lose your mind.

Desperate, you leaned back slightly onto his bed and parted your knees, your folds glistening as you showed him just how badly you needed him.

Joel groaned, almost visibly salivating at the sight. The blazing heat in his eyes sent ripples of desire coursing through your body, straight to your throbbing core.

You opened wider. “Please.”

“Christ, babygirl. Already soakin’ the sheets.” Sliding a finger up along the seam of your pussy, he grazed your clit, the touch light, but somehow still enough to make your hips arch off the mattress as white-hot pinpricks of pleasure danced their way up your spine. He lowered his head and leaned in, your sweet scent drawing him in like a moth to a flame. Just when you were about to start pleading him for more, he dipped his face into the apex of your thighs, his mouth finally, finally, meeting your wet heat.

“Oh!” you gasped, your head falling back. “Fuck!”

Against you, his lips curled upwards into a wicked grin. He’d never heard you curse before, not until now.

Joel took his time devouring you, savoring the essence of your cunt with each broad stroke of his tongue. Sealing his lips around your clit, he flicked the swollen, sensitive bundle of nerves over and over again, eliciting from you some of the sweetest noises that he had ever heard in his entire life. In preparation for what you both knew was to come, he pushed one finger inside of you, the invasion causing you to fist his sheets even harder. He then slipped in a second finger, groaning in sheer, carnal bliss at how your walls squeezed them, at the mere thought of them squeezing his cock in the same manner. How was it that you felt so much tighter this time around?

“Oh God.”

You shouldn’t be saying His name. Not like this.

Not when something this sinful was being done to you.

Hungrily, Joel lapped at you, curling both of his fingers in an upwards motion to hit the perfect spot. He knew you were close, felt it in the way that you squirmed and writhed. Draping his arm across your hips, he pinned them down onto the bed, holding you still as he chased your high as if it were his own.

“Joel,” you chanted his name over and over again in a fevered prayer. Releasing the sheets, your hands found his hair, tangling themselves in his curls. Your head fell back, and you cursed at the ceiling of his bedroom. “Fuck, fuck, fuck Joel—”

Pushing onto his mouth, you came, moaning his name so loudly you were certain the whole neighborhood was getting an earful.

Joel pulled back, his beard and mustache slicked with your spend. “S’right, honey,” he crooned, his digits still buried to the knuckle as he helped you to ride out your wave of ecstasy. Eventually, when he pulled them out, you tried closing your shaking legs. He tsked and shook his head, wrenching them open further. “No, no, baby. Keep those pretty thighs open for me. Wanna see her.” He admired his work, his cock twitching at the sight of your pussy, swollen and shining, and ready to take him.

Like earlier, there was another brief skip in time.

Mind still in a haze, you hadn’t even realized that he’d risen to his feet and guided you further up onto his bed, not until you were lying on your back with your head on his pillow and he was hovering over you, his hard length brushing against one of your messy, inner thighs when he settled himself between your legs.

Your heart began to pound in a mingle of both fear and excitement.

Joel’s eyes met yours. His pupils were blown so wide, there was not one, single trace of brown anywhere to be seen. “Y’absolutely sure about this, little dove?”

Your response came without hesitation. “Yes. I’m sure.”

He pressed a kiss to the underside of your jaw. Your submission was a gift, and he would cherish every last second of your surrender to him, savor it for as long as he possibly could. His lips, soft and warm, skimmed along the column of your throat, leaving a trail of fresh goosebumps in their wake.

If, by some chance, you decided that you wanted to go back to your father and to your faith, Joel didn’t know how he would find it in himself to let you go, not after this. Of course, he would have to let go, though.

The last thing he wanted was to help free you from one cage just to stick you right back into another. While he was no stranger to loss, he had to admit to himself that to lose you would be a knife to whatever was left of his heart.

Shoving the thought out of his mind, he reached down and gripped the base of his cock, pumping it in his fist before running the leaking head along your puffy lips, coating himself in your wetness with the hope it would ease some of the pain you were bound to feel. “Ready, babygirl?” he asked you, lightly teasing your entrance. “Might hurt a bit. M’gonna go slow. Just need you to relax for me, alright?”

“Okay.”

“I’ve got you,” he promised.

You nodded, saying softly, “I know.”

Though he knew he had all of your trust, Joel could still sense your anxiousness. He reached out for your hand, lacing your fingers together with his own as he gingerly pressed forward and eased himself into you, taking the very innocence you had been taught your entire life to preserve, one slow, careful inch at a time.

“Oh—Joel!” You cried loudly at the initial stretch, your pretty face scrunching in discomfort. Tightly slamming your eyes shut, sparks flew behind your eyelids when he finally bottomed out. The burning sting in between your thighs was too overwhelming, almost impossible to cope with. He felt so enormous within you, you could have sworn he was in your belly. Another broken cry fell from your lips and he swallowed it with a comforting kiss.

“Jesus Christ,” he hissed against your lips, a thin sheen of sweat coating his brow, neck, and chest. He wasn’t sure where he found the strength, but he suppressed his urge to thrust. Instead, he dropped his face into the hollow of your neck and waited, giving you the chance to adjust to him. He mumbled against your skin. “Doin’ so good for me, sweet girl. Y’know that? You’re doin’ so fuckin’ good for me.”

Even in discomfort, you preened at his praise.

He squeezed your hand, and after a minute, he gave an experimental thrust of his hips—and then another and another before he ceased his movement once again. He was so big and you were so deliciously full of him.

Eventually, the pain subsided, and you found yourself asking, no, begging for more. “Move.” Your other hand found itself cupping the side of his face, coaxing him to lift his head and allowing your gazes to meet. Your soft, plush thighs parted further to help accommodate the breadth of his hips. “Please, Joel. I need you to move—I need you to fuck me.”

Surely, you would be the death of him.

He drew his hips back with cautious, tender care, then advanced in the same manner to fill your precious cunt all over again. He did it over and over, your pleasured moans encouraging him to begin picking up the pace. He drove his cock in and out of your weeping pussy, the slapping of flesh against flesh, the lewd, wet squelch of you around him inspiring him to fuck you harder, faster. And the noises you were making?

There was something oh so beautiful about your cries, sweet raptures of submission as you laid there beneath him, all too graciously taking everything he had to give you like the good, good, good girl you were for him.

“Fuckin’ hell, sweetheart,” Joel rasped. “Look at you—look at the way you take my fuckin’ cock, honey.”

And you did.

Glancing down, your gaze fell between your bodies and you watched in awe, openly marveled at the way Joel slid in and out of your cunt, how he knocked hard so deeply inside of you, driving himself as far as he could possibly go.

“Fuck Joel, I’m gonna—” You tried warning him as the pressure in your belly neared its peak, but you tumbled over the edge before you even had the chance to finish your sentence. Arching up off off the bed, you pressed your chest against his, your fingers squeezing his own so hard you feared you might break them.

“That’s it babygirl, let go,” he grunted, speeding up his thrusts. “Squeeze my fuckin’ cock—just like that. Good girl. My perfect, perfect girl.”

You didn’t quite get the chance to let the praise sink in.

Joel pulled himself out of you, and with ease, he flipped you over onto your belly. His hands gripped your hips and pulled them up off the mattress, his fingers moving to firmly knead the fleshiest part of your ass. He leaned over you, the head of his cock nudging at your hole. “Y’think you can handle a little bit more, sweetheart?” he whispered the question into a tumble of messy hair, the delicate scent of the lavender shampoo you used to wash it filling his senses. “Answer me, little dove.”

“Yes,” you replied breathlessly with a nod. “I can.”

With a satisfied hum, Joel sank into you, this second stretch not quite as overwhelming at the first, but still intense. “Relax,” he murmured, hunching further over your quivering back. He pressed a kiss onto the top of your head and then leaned down to brace his hands on either side of you. “Need you to be sweet for me just a bit longer, okay, baby?”

“God,” you whimpered when the heaviness of his balls came to rest on your sensitive clit.

It was the second time you’d uttered His name.

Joel almost grinned at the irony. He found his rhythm, groaning in gut-deep satisfaction with each snap of his hips—each smooth stroke in and each smooth stroke out.

“Oh fuck, sweet girl.” Heaven was indeed a real place, and Joel Miller was buried in it to the hilt, right at this very moment.

He was getting closer and closer.

Maybe it was your eagerness to help him reach his own release mingled with the pride you knew you would feel once you did that gave you a second wind, a fresh, new burst of energy. You planted your hands firmly on his pillow. Rolling your bottom lip between your teeth, you curved your spine and pushed back onto Joel with purpose, meeting his thrusts halfway as you rode his aching length to the satiation that waited for him at the end.

“There’s my girl,” he rasped. “Oh fuckin’ Christ—”

No way he could live his life without you now.

He needed you.

He needed you so much more than you needed him.

Joel slipped an arm around your shoulders, across your chest.

“Oh!” you gasped as he then yanked you back, pulling you flush against him. The rough crash of your back against his chest, combined with the angle in which he was fucking you knocked the wind out of your lungs.

His lips were at the shell of your ear. “Stay,” he panted, his breath hot against your cheekbone. He wrapped his other hand lightly around your throat. Relentless, were his hips now—his movements had become frantic. Desperate. “Stay with me, baby.”

Even as you fought to catch your breath in the position he had you in, you picked up on the fact that he wasn’t asking you of it, nor was he demanding you of it.

He was begging you.

Him, the most feared man in this town. Begging you?

“Joel,” you choked.

“Please, my little dove,” he pleaded, turning your head towards him. His mouth was then on the corner of your own, his beard roughly scratching the soft and delicate flesh of your cheek. “I need you, babygirl. Stay with me. Please, just fuckin’ stay with me.”

Your hands curled around his wrists. “Yes, I’ll stay,” you moaned. “I’m yours, Joel. I’m all yours. I—I’m not going anywhere. I promise. I’ll stay with you.”

A low, guttural sound rumbled through his chest. Joel firmly took hold of your cross, and without so much as a warning, he ripped the chain from around your neck and tossed it somewhere over his shoulder. He heard it land on the hardwood floor with the tiniest, faint clink the moment he spilled into you, ropes of warm release coating your fluttering walls. Curses and groans spilled from his lips and into your neck. Your cunt clutched at his pulsing cock, greedy for every last drop of his spend she could get.

Once you were filled, you both collapsed beside each other on the bed, heaving to catch a steady breath.

“Y’okay, sweetheart?” Joel managed to ask, his chest still rising and falling rapidly.

Exhausted, all you could do was nod and utter, “Mhm.”

He exhaled an amused huff through his nose. “C’mere.” He reached for you and pulled you against his side. He draped an arm around your shoulders, holding you as close to him as was possible. “Y’did so good, honey.”

Your mouth curled into a small, contented smile.

Several minutes had passed by, and despite telling him that you were too tired to even think about moving, Joel made you get up and use the bathroom, and while you did so, he ran a clean washcloth under warm water. “Here, darlin’. Let me clean you up,” he’d said, his lips meeting your forehead in a loving token of affection before he sank down onto one knee and ran the damp cloth along the insides of your thighs. He took extreme care when he wiped at your swollen folds, knowing you were still sensitive to the touch. “There we go. All done, now.”

Not long after, you were both back in his bed, wrapped up in his sheets.

Yawning, you nuzzled into bare his chest, your eyelids feeling heavier and heavier with each and every second that ticked by. You’d started drifting off when you heard his voice.

“Baby?”

“Hmm?” you answered sleepily, eyes still closed.

“Did you mean what you said?”

“Mean what, Joel?”

There was a brief pause. “Y’know, when you said you’d stay with me.”

Snuggling closer to him, you mumbled, “Mhm. Of course I did.”

“S’not gonna be easy,” Joel murmured into your hair.

“I know.” You yawned. “But I have you.”

“You do. You’ve got me—and I’ve got you, babygirl.”

“Mm. I know that too, Joel.”

You felt him kiss the top of your head and then fell fast asleep in his arms.

The sun bloomed over the Grand Tetons.

Your father would wake soon, that’s to say if he wasn’t up already.

The nerves began to set in.

Joel must have sensed it. “Breathe, baby. S’gonna be okay,” he soothed, squeezing your hand.

With one of his warmer, heavier jackets that normally didn’t see the light of day until winter season draped around your shoulders, the two of you made your way down the road and towards your house. Or better said, towards your father’s house. Because after what you were about to do, that yellow and white cottage would no longer be a place you could call home.

He led you up to the porch. “Y’sure you don’t want me to go in there with you?” he asked, quietly.

You could have laughed. You almost did.

“Do you believe that to be a wise choice?”

“No, I reckon it ain’t the best idea,” Joel admitted with a sigh, raking his free hand through his unkempt, salt and pepper hair. He looked up at the house, then back at you. “Look, little dove. No matter what happens in there, just know that everythin’ will be alright. M’gonna take care of you. For the rest of my life, I’ll take care of you. I’ll try my hardest to be everythin’ you need.”

“You already are, Joel,” you said, your gaze earnest.

His chest swelled with warmth.

Truth be told, Joel didn’t know how he had managed to defy the odds—how he, of all people, had managed to make his way into that sweet, innocent, beautiful little heart of yours, but somehow he did, and he would not take this responsibility lightly.

He brushed your lips with his and promised, “Gonna be waitin’ right here, okay?”

“Okay.” Inhaling deeply, you willed yourself to let go of his hand and took a step back. You then started up the porch steps on wobbling legs. When you made it to the top, you glanced over your shoulder at Joel, who gave you a subtle nod of encouragement. Exhaling slowly, you reached for the knob with trembling fingers and turned it, opening the door. You stepped inside, your heart dropping into your stomach when you saw your father sitting there at the foot of the staircase, as if he’d been waiting for you. He had been waiting for you. Fully dressed, he sat on the second to last step with both hands folded on his bible in his lap, a rosary clutched between them. “Papa?”

He said nothing. Instead, he silently observed you—his eyes glazed over the men’s jacket and the short dress you wore underneath it, the disheveled, loose hair and kiss swollen lips. Your holy cross nowhere to be seen.

“Papa.” You swallowed harshly and shifted your weight anxiously from the heel of one boot to the other. “We, um—we really need to have a talk.”

He peered around you, catching a brief glimpse of the man standing outside, waiting for you at the foot of the porch.

He cleared his throat, lightly. “Yes, child. I suppose that we do.”

Nodding tightly, you turned around and slowly closed the door. Joel’s words rang in your mind over and over, giving you the push of strength you knew you would need.

I’ve got you.

divider credit goes to @saradika 🤍

#fic: fall into temptation #joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x afab!reader #joel miller x you #joel miller smut #joel miller series #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller angst #the last of us fic #the last of us fanfiction #tlou fanfiction #post outbreak joel

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alltheirdamn · 1 year ago

Text

Crush | Jackson Joel x f!reader

Song inspo: Crush by Ethel Cain

Summary: After sharing a late-night smoke with a stranger, you let him take you home to his place... Rating: 18+ Explicit MDNI Word Count: 3.6k Warnings: pure filth, porn with not a whole lot of plot, cigarettes/smoking, alcohol, flirting, light banter, oral (m & f receiving), deepthroat, rimming, anal play, spanking, rough unprotected piv sex, filthy talk, pet names (sweetheart, good girl), language, creampie, joel is a filthy bitch per usual A/N: If Joel isn't the most Ethel Cain coded man ever written I dont know what else to tell you.

Masterlist | Ko-Fi

“Got any t’spare?”

The deep, timbre voice jolted you from your peace and quiet. Footsteps crunched on the snow toward you, a tall older man dissolving from the shadows. The gray streaks in his hair shimmered under the twinkling lights that hung over the bar's roof, and you tracked his long, languid steps as they neared your shivering body. As he got closer, you could finally make out the unkempt beard growing on his jaw and neck. It was short and manageable but still messy as if he had no care about his appearance. What struck you silent, though, were his darkened brown eyes. The creases around them softened him in places, but there was a pain that lingered behind his irises that paralyzed you.

Biting your half-smoked cigarette between your teeth, you reached between your jeans and silken underwear to retrieve the hidden carton. Cigarettes were hard to come by in Jackson, and you knew how to keep your share of them a secret. But something about this man made the idea of lying seem dangerous, so you complied.

“Here,” you muttered, inhaling another drag.

He took the cigarette carefully, his thick fingers barely brushing over yours. Despite the snowfall above you, his hands were warm against your skin. You shuddered as you pulled away to dig your lighter from your back pocket.

You held the flickering flame to the butt of his cigarette, igniting the tobacco until a plume of smoke billowed into the air.

“I ain’t seen you ‘round Jackson ‘fore,” he said, his Southern accent thick and distorted from an inhale of smoke.

You dipped your head, fitting your fingers around the cigarette as you pulled it from your lips.

“Just got here this weekend,” you huffed.

“Who y’come here with?” He asked.

“Do you tend to go nosing around someone’s business before introducing yourself?” You smirked.

“Shit,” he muttered, extending a free hand. “Joel.”

You gave him your name as you wrapped your hand around his. Joel’s fingers squeezed your hand softly before he abandoned your grip and returned to his cigarette.

“I came by myself,” you finally answered.

He nodded slowly, and you both silently inhaled another pull, the smell of smoke swirling around you. You had gotten used to the tinged smell that followed a drag, the bittersweet ambiance that tended to linger on your clothes and hair. You let your eyes wander over Joel as he squinted up into the sky, the pout of his lips wrapped around the cigarette filter.

“S’not an easy trip gettin’ here,” he commented. “You’re a lucky lil’ thing.”

His eyes fell to yours as he said the final two words and something about the drop in his voice made you squirm. The tug of his lips told you he knew it, too. You hollowed your cheeks as you sucked in a lung full of smoke, the cherry burning bright as it lit up Joel’s shadowed face.

“Lucky, huh?” You quipped. “I don’t think it’s luck.”

“Whadaya think it is then?” He asked, tilting his head.

You pinched the cig between your fingers, studying the thin filter as it dwindled closer to the butt. You were already craving another; the stress of traveling had really gotten to you, but you knew you’d need to ration your contraband if you planned on staying in Jackson for a while. You’d already sacrificed one to Joel, which was stupid, but you enjoyed the company of someone who needed it as badly as you did.

“I think I fought tooth and nail to get here. I learned to survive out there alone, and I did it all without luck.”

“Y’saw some scary shit out there,” he nodded, reading between the lines. “I know it ain’t easy. Did the same thing myself ‘few months ago.”

“You’re here alone, too?” You wondered.

“Came here alone, but I got family here,” he shrugged. “My brother, Tommy, he’s the one runnin’ the town.”

Your eyes widened, taking in the area around you. All the houses, the people walking by, the little bar nestled behind you… it was all because of his brother.

“Well, when you see him next, you better tell him thank you for me. I’m really grateful to have somewhere to stay.”

“Sure thing, sweetheart,” he grinned.

A comfortable silence settled over you, and you both alternated between puffs of smoke. Joel glanced at you ever so often, his dark eyes staring intently at your mouth each time. After a while, your cigarette burned less, and you tossed it beneath your feet to extinguish it, the heat of it melting a hole into the snow.

“Y’know what tastes good with a cigarette?” Joel asked.

“What?”

He dropped the butt of his cigarette to the ground, following your lead and squashing it into the snow.

“Whiskey,” he said matter of fact. “Got some up at my place if y’wanna come over.”

“I won’t say no to that,” you smiled. “You owe me for the cig anyway.”

Joel’s home was nestled far into the woods at the end of town, its cozy space welcoming and warm. The steps up to the front door were covered in snow, and the front porch was adorned with a wooden rocking chair and table. He opened the door and ushered you inside, the bite of the night chill finally relenting once the door shut.

“Lemme take this,” Joel offered, his hands guiding your winter jacket off and hanging it on a hook by the door.

You were left standing in just a thermal and jeans, your body shivering as the cocoon of warmth disappeared. He shrugged off his heavy jacket, placing it beside yours. His green flannel stretched against the muscles of his body, and you ogled at him. You would have never guessed that he looked like this under the cover of his jacket.

“It ain’t polite to stare,” he joked.

You blinked at him, heat crawling up your neck and coloring your face red.

“Well, you’re not hard on the eyes,” you tossed back, giving him a playful grin.

Now he was blushing, the soft pink tint blooming under the scruff on his cheeks. With a subtle tilt of his head, Joel guided you to his kitchen, and you watched as he searched for a bottle of whiskey and two glasses. It was hard not to fixate on his thick fingers as they dwarfed his mug, nor was it easy to avoid watching the muscles in his neck flex as he swallowed a long sip of the liquor.

“So, do you make a habit of inviting strangers to your home?” You asked, sipping the whiskey slowly.

“Only the pretty ones with tobacco,” he smirked.

The burn of the liquor down your throat coursed down your chest, warmth spreading into your limbs. Joel’s heavy stare was enough to make warmth bloom in other areas, too, the friction in your jeans becoming a problem that needed fixing. You had spent months all alone on the road trying to make it here, never once giving in to your desperate needs. You barely had the energy to fantasize about a man touching you, and now you were feet away from an opportunity to fulfill your needs.

“Ah, so you’re only interested in what I have to offer.”

You were gunning for a reaction, hoping he’d take the bait. Joel was a stranger; maybe that sentiment was part of the attraction. No strings, no emotions…just someone to fuck and blow off some steam with.

Joel finished the rest of his drink before stalking toward you, his fingers dancing up your arm. You squirmed at his touch, stepping into his space and letting your chest brush against his. His fingers squeezed your chin, tipping your head back so that you met his eyes.

“Y’got other things to offer?” He smirked.

“Depends on what you want.”

You grinned at him playfully, grinding your hips against the erection tenting in his pants. Joel exhaled a strangled groan, his fingers tightening around your jaw before traveling down your throat. You gave him a defiant look, arching your neck to allow his large hand to cover the entirety of your neck.

“Think I wanna see ya’ on your knees, sweetheart,” he rasped. “Wanna see those pretty eyes full of tears when y’try to take my cock down this pretty lil’ throat.”

You moaned helplessly, squeezing your thighs together to try and relieve the pressure building inside your core. Joel used his hand around your neck to guide you to your knees, your eyes still obediently staring up at him.

“God damn, you’re even more beautiful like that,” Joel exhaled.

He worked at his belt, letting go of your throat so that he could use both hands to free his cock. And the moment your eyes caught sight of his thick cock, you understood why he needed both hands. You wet your lips involuntarily, the aspect of trying to fit the girth of him in your mouth igniting a newfound excitement inside you.

“Stick out your tongue,” he ordered.

You quickly obliged, your jaw dropping open. You could hardly contain the grin tugging at the corners of your open mouth, arousal buzzing through your veins. Joel shoved his pants halfway down his thighs and bent over to meet you at eye level. With a brief grin of mischief, he spit into your open mouth, humming in satisfaction as he eyed the saliva coating your tongue.

“Mhmm,” he smiled. “Good fuckin’ girl.”

Joel pumped his cock a few times before sliding it over your tongue, the stretch of your mouth around it forcing your jaw sore. You hollowed your cheeks around him, the salty taste of his precum dripping down your throat as you took him deeper. You swirled your tongue around the tip of his cock as it glided further into your mouth, your eyes twinkling as you watched Joel’s head tip back in ecstasy.

“Yeah, just like that, sweetheart.”

You reached a hand up to caress his balls, stroking them in tandem with each bob of your head. Joel nearly buckled over at your soft touch, his hips snapping forward until your nose collided with the wiry hair surrounding his cock. You sputtered violently around him, saliva dripping down your chin while tears sprung from your eyes.

“There we go,” he grunted. “Lookin’ so pretty chokin’ on my cock. Y’like that?”

He shoved down your throat again, suffocating you with his musky scent and salty taste. You nodded vigorously, your mouth still full of him. Snaking a hand down your pants, you tried to squeeze your fingers between the fabric of your underwear, desperately seeking relief from the ache throbbing harder inside your core.

Joel tutted at you, ripping his cock from your mouth. You wailed in protest, a string of saliva still webbing from the tip to your mouth. A strong hand gripped your hair, and you stared up at him with swollen lips and lust-blown eyes.

“Y’gonna offer me a taste of that sweet lil’ pussy now?” Joel asked, quirking a grin.

“Take what you want,” you panted, grinning at him.

Joel didn’t need to be told twice. He hauled you up and walked you toward the empty dining table, slamming your chest down into it hard enough to make you gasp for air. With your nails digging into the wood, Joel worked at ripping your jeans and underwear down your legs, the half-empty carton of cigarettes falling to the ground.

“That’s a cute hidin’ spot,” Joel chuckled.

“I like to keep them safe from strangers.”

“Ain’t done a good job of that tonight.”

Joel’s hand came down with a resounding thwack against your ass, a cry erupting from your lips. The sting of his palm on your skin radiated down your legs, the slick pooling further down your thighs. Jesus Christ, if he didn’t fuck you soon, you might go crazy.

“God, damn, sweetheart,” Joel exhaled, swiping a finger over your entrance. You jerked at his touch, chasing the pleasure coursing through your body. “Just drippin’ for me, ain’t she? Y’need my cock stretchin’ this tight pussy out?”

“Fuck,” you groaned. “Please, Joel.”

“Got you beggin’ for it already,” Joel laughed. “I think I like you.”

You ached for his cock, but you felt him shift behind you and gasped as his tongue licked a thick stripe up your center. You squirmed as his beard tickled your shivering skin, and your cunt fluttered around his tongue, each flick against your aching clit sending a ripple of tremors down your limbs. The bridge of his nose brushed through the crease between your entrance and tight ring of muscles, and you instinctively flinched away.

“Y’ever had someone fuck you here?” Joel muttered.

You wagged your head in protest, and he hummed in approval before his tongue traced around the tight ring. The sensation was so foreign to you, but his mouth on you felt too good to oppose. Back and forth, his tongue lapped up your juices and returned upwards, a consistent rhythm that had you gasping for more.

“Might have to stretch out this virgin hole if y’let me,” Joel mumbled, his fingers prodding up your inner thighs.

“Maybe,” you exhaled shakily.

Joel took your lack of words as an invitation to start annihilating you with his mouth, his lips suctioning over your clit, his tongue pulsating over your sensitive bud. It didn’t take much longer until your orgasm was cresting to the surface, a wail escaping your mouth as your body seized.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” Joel groaned. “Think this sweet lil’ pussy’s ready for me now?”

You were too blissed out to formulate words correctly, so you only responded with a desperate whine and a slight shimmy of your ass. Joel straightened behind you, lining up with your leaking entrance. The thick head of his cock brushed against your wet folds, pushing in slowly, and you held back a whimper as your body adjusted to the stretch of him bottoming out inside you.

“Shit,” he gritted through clenched teeth. “Just suckin’ me right in, ain’t you?”

“Feels so fucking good, Joel,” you moaned.

He drew back his hips, his cock nearly slipping out of you before he drove right back in. The table beneath you creaked, and your core fluttered around the girth of his cock, splitting you open. Joel’s hands groped at the plush skin of your ass, spreading you open for his pleasure. Any other man and you’d be embarrassed by how exposed you were, but for some reason… Joel was driving you insane.

“Takin’ my cock so well, sweetheart,” Joel praised.

You keened at his words, each thrust of his cock blinding your vision. Calloused fingers dug into your hips, and the smoky fragrance of his skin evaded your senses as he dipped over your spine, drawing his mouth close to your ear.

“Wish y’could see the way your pussy wraps around my cock,” Joel teased. “Gonna wreck you ‘til you’re a fucked out mess, sweetheart.”

“Use me,” you panted.

The pent-up desperation from months spent alone was clawing out of your throat; the harder he fucked you, the more you craved it. Joel’s hand wound around your hair, tightening it around his fist until he could pull your neck back. That’s when he really started ramping up the speed. His body slammed against yours, thrust after thrust, turning you into a blubbering mess of jumbled words.

“Desperate.” Thrust. “Lil.” Thrust. “Thing.” Thrust.

“Wanna—wanna cum for you, Joel,” you gasped.

Pain radiated up your neck the tighter he gripped your hair, but you couldn’t give a damn as the orgasm surged through your core. Joel kicked your legs out wider, the angle of his cock spearing into you the deeper he pushed.

“C’mon, sweetheart,” Joel urged. “Lemme feel this pussy squeeze my cock.”

Hypnotized by his words, your body reacted on cue, a white-hot explosion detonating inside your core. You screamed out his name, your cunt turning into a vice around his cock. Joel choked on his breath, his movements choppy and off-beat as he pounded through your climax. The wet sound of your cunt around his cock was loud enough to echo through the empty house, and Joel exhaled in satisfaction as he reached down to pull one of your legs onto the edge of the table.

The new position sparked another fury of warmth inside your veins, his rough hand squeezing the underside of your kneecap as he broke you open wider.

“Gonna fill this tight lil’ hole with my cum,” Joel rasped. “Y’want that, sweetheart?”

“Yes,” you pleaded.

Wedging your leg higher onto the table, Joel snapped his hips in repetition, carnal groans falling off his lips each time he sunk deeper. You tossed a glance over your shoulder, seeing his face scrunched up in concentration; his eyes were so fixated on his cock slipping in and out of your drenched hole that he didn’t realize you were watching. A muscle in his jaw twitched, and you could feel the sudden surge of tension paralyzing his body. Joel ground out your name as he emptied himself into you, white-hot ropes of release painting your insides.

“Jesus,” you exhaled, watching his features soften as his eyes fluttered shut.

Joel’s eyes snapped open, connecting with yours. A grin teased one corner of his mouth, beads of sweat coating the thick mustache covering his upper lip. Gingerly lowering your leg to the floor, Joel bent over your body, brushing a hand under your chin to guide your lips to his. He coaxed your mouth open, the sweet taste of whiskey and cigarettes still dancing on his tongue. You nipped at his plush bottom lip, drawing it between your teeth until he groaned.

“Want another smoke?” You asked, pushing your nose against his.

“Just gotta do somethin’ first,” he whispered.

Joel slipped out of you, the immediate trickle of liquid gushing down your thighs at his absence. He crouched behind you, pressing gentle kisses into the supple flesh of your thighs as he traveled higher. Two thick fingers plunged inside your gaping entrance, the stretch not nearly as shocking as it was with his cock. You chewed your lip to hold back another wanton moan, his fingers curling against the spongy spot inside your core.

“I need you to relax for me, okay, sweetheart?” Joel insisted. “Y’trust me?”

“I barely even know you,” you laughed. But you obliged, regardless, nodding your head eagerly.

Joel’s fingers worked their way out of you, trailing higher up the seam of your entrance until they prodded at your virgin hole. You buck your hips at his feather-like touch, the pads of his fingers pushing against the tight muscle gently.

“Relax,” he crooned.

You inhale sharply, letting your body sag onto the table. The initial stretch of his finger was uncomfortable, your body tensing as Joel worked you open. You whimpered quietly, shifting your body slightly as he slid another finger in alongside the first, your body sucking him in knuckle-deep.

“Attagirl,” Joel murmured. “Got both your holes stretched and filled now. Feels good, don’t it?”

You gave him a pathetic nod, your body on the cusp of overstimulation. Joel gently pulled his fingers from you, and you looked back to see him draw them between his lips, sucking them clean. Those dark brown eyes flicked up to meet your watchful gaze, a dangerous smile splitting across his face.

Oh, hell.

You and Joel spent the rest of the night on his porch, watching the snow blanket the ground between dancing puffs of smoke. There was minimal chatter after he cleaned you up, your clothes pieced back together, and the cigarette carton stashed away in its usual spot under your jeans. Ever so often, you’d eye Joel between drags, watching his jaw flex as he hollowed his cheeks. Under the pale light of the moon and flickering bulb over his porch, you made out the streaks of grey in his hair, familiarizing yourself with each curl that stuck to his sweat-dampened skin.

“You’re starin’ again,” he stated, his eyes locked on the snow swirling in the air.

You blushed, ashing the butt of the cig over the porch rails. The heat of his gaze on you was impossible to ignore, so you cooled yourself and turned to him with a shy grin.

“Guess there’s just something about you,” you muttered.

Joel’s brown eyes twinkled, and he smiled right back.

“You just sayin’ that ‘cause y’got my cum leakin’ out of you, sweetheart?” He teased.

“Christ,” you exhaled, rolling your eyes. “That’s definitely not why.”

“Y’gonna tell me then?” He pressed his shoulder into yours.

You returned the playful shove, letting your arm brush against his. Flicking the end of your cigarette into the yard, you straightened your body.

“You owe me a pack of Reds,” you laughed. “Then, maybe I’ll tell you.”

“Just tell me when y’wanna come and get ‘em,” Joel smirked.

He drew you in for a soft kiss before urging you to head home, both of you reluctant to leave the porch. As you walked through the gate in his fence, you glanced back one last time to capture his attention with a small wave of your hand. Hidden in the shadows, you saw Joel’s hand lift to his mouth, blowing you a kiss that drifted past the lingering haze of smoke and falling snow.

#jackson joel #jackson joel x f!reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel x f!reader #joel miller one shot #joel miller fanfic #joel miller tlou #tlou fanfic #post outbreak joel #smut smut smut

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aurorawritestoescape · 1 year ago

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HIS || Post outbreak Joel x f!reader x Tommy x m!original characters || 1k

18+ mdni, DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT, NON CON, smut, gang bang

Kisses to @milla-frenchy for beta-ing<3

MASTERLIST

*****

“She out cold?”

“Seems so.”

“Too bad for her.”

You hear loud laughter all around you that sounds more like barking. Your mind is screaming for you to open your eyes but you can’t.

“No one comes in her cunt except me and Tommy, got it?”

Joel.

A memory of the night flashes behind your trembling eyelids.

You’re sitting on his lap, drawing patterns on his big hairy forearm. There’re other men there. Laughing, drinking, taking whatever pills they managed to trade. Cigarette smoke stings your eyes. Joel kisses your neck and you giggle. His stiffening cock twitches under your left asscheek.

You want him so fucking bad. You wish you two were alone.

Their sticky eyes cling to you all night. But you’re with Joel so you feel safe. Protected. His.

His big arm is wrapped around your waist, heavy hand rests on your clothed thigh but you still can feel the heat of his palm through your jeans and your pussy slowly melts into your panties.

When he’s talking to the men, his warm wet breath hits your collar bone. You wish to taste it. You don’t mind him smelling like whisky and cigarettes. You want to give him everything.

He’s taking everything from you right now and sharing you with his friends while he’s at it.

“Can we fuck her mouth?”

“Sure”

This sounds like the bold guy. What was his name? Your mind is blank. Why did you drink so much? Why did you take the drugs they offered?

You trusted Joel. You wanted Joel.

Cold hands open and take off your jeans. Pull your tank top up and off you. You don’t fight it. You can’t. All the sensations are numbed to the maximum. They touch you with their thick fingers and you feel it seconds later. They spread your legs and hold them bent at the knees.

“Look at the little slut, she’s so fuckin’ wet,” you hear Tommy’s voice.

“She’s been grinding against Joel all night,” another gruff voice smirks.

“Thirsty whore!”

“She’s getting more than she bargained for now, huh?”

You don’t hear Joel and fear grips your heart tighter.

“ ‘m gonna taste this pussy before you fuckers stick your dirty dicks in her.” Tommy again.

More laughter. You feel his wet tongue slide between your folds. The arousal starts smoldering deep in your core. But the chemicals in your blood douse any pleasant sensation as soon as it appears. Tommy’s sucking on your clit and all you feel is despair.

The darkness swallows you again.

You take a sharp breath and finally open your eyes. Joel is between your naked thighs now, his cock is stabbing your soaked pussy in deep sharp strokes. It burns. He’s thick. It hurts every time his tip hits your cervix and you whine.

“Slut loves it,” you hear someone on your right. Someone’s roughly squeezing your breasts and you feel a hot mouth sucking on your nipple.

You focus on Joel. Blown eyes locked with yours, he’s watching you with an expression he’s often had, looking at you on your runs together. Cold, predatory, hungry. It seems that he’s finally doing what he’s always wanted.

You wonder why you have never noticed what was hiding behind his intent stare. You didn’t understand it or just didn’t want to see the truth. A tear rolls down from the corner of your eye to your temple. Your body is exhausted by this and your mind is pulled into the abyss once again.

You’re suffocating. Wake up.

You see a soft stomach in front of your eyes. You can’t breathe.

“Hey, pull out!” Joel barks and the thick cock leaves your mouth. You’re drooling on your naked chest, coughing, wheezing, swallowing globs of air.

You raise your eyes. You recognize the man who’s holding your head up, roughly gripping your hair. He slapped your ass as soon as you arrived at Joel’s place. Joel shot him a glare but didn’t say anything. You should have known.

“Ya gonna kill her like that,” Joel growls without a trace of worry in his cold voice.

“Who gives a shit,” the man laughs and pulls on your chin, opening your mouth and pushing his cock back inside.

Your face is wet with tears and something else. Your mind spares you and you black out before the man comes down your throat.

Next time your eyes snap open Tommy’s standing on the bed over your torso, his cock sliding back and forth between your glistening breasts. They’re slippery and it glides smoothly as he’s moaning over you. A smell of cum hits your nose. Someone’s fucking your sore cunt but you don’t see who.

Suddenly you feel hot. You realize that your back is leaning on someone big and warm behind you. You just notice the hands pushing your breasts together for Tommy to fuck.

You recognize these big hands immediately.

“Joel”. Your weak voice is barely audible among the cacophony of male groans and curses.

“Rise and shine, sweetheart,” he rasps brushing the shell of your ear with his lips, “You just missed Ben comin’ all over ya tits. Poor fucker blew his load as soon as he got to touch ‘em.”

He barks a laugh and you flinch.

“Fuck you!” you hear a voice from afar and they all laugh again.

“It’s ok, sweetheart,” Joel coos at you, turning your head to the side making you face him. He smiles at you but his gaze stays icy. “You’re pretty. They haven’t used a pretty girl like you for a while. They need it. You’ll understand.”

He leans down and kisses your puffy lips, pushing his tongue between them and claiming the last part of you. You've been longing for this kiss as long as you knew him but now all you feel is rage. You lift your shaking hand and drop it on Joel’s forearm. The one you were caressing just a couple of hours ago. With your last strength you try to scratch him but leave nothing but faint white marks.

Joel chuckles against your lips,

“Feisty kitten. Don’t worry. In the mornin’ I’ll give you a bath and fuck you again. This time alone.”

*****

Thank you for reading!♥️

Masterlist

Tag list: @milla-frenchy @harriedandharassed @missannfairy @iamasaddie @nervousmumbling @bbyanarchist @stevie75 @puduvallee @auteurdelabre @mountainsandmayhem @senoratess @flamingochick55 @theoraekenslover @survivingandenduring

Tommy tag: @huskyfox5

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mermaidgirl30 · 1 year ago

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✨Run Rabbit✨

A/N: This idea literally came out of nowhere today, so I had to hurry and write it real quick! This idea is based off the song “Run, Rabbit Run!” by Flanagan and Allen. The song would not leave my head, and then I got this image of Joel chasing reader through an abandoned mansion. This one is a tad bit dark, but I hope you enjoy! If you liked this work, please think of reblogging and leaving me comments 🩷 Thank you to @ozarkthedog for being my beta 🥰

Summary: At the beginning of every month, you meet Joel to play a little game of hide and seek at the abandoned mansion near Jackson. It’s not just any game of hide and seek though. It’s dark and it’s twisted. If he catches you, he gets to do whatever he wants with you.

Pairing: Dom! Joel x fem! reader

Rating: Explicit (18+ ONLY MDNI)

Word Count: 4.1k

Tags: Possessive Joel, hide and seek, cat and mouse, Joel chases reader until he finds her, Jackson! Joel, outbreak! Joel, smut, fingering, oral, unprotected p in v, cream pie, dirty talk

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

The air is suffocating, the black walls are covered in regret and years of cigarette stench. The dim lights seem to shine down on you like a spotlight as you run as fast as you can through the lavish house. You can hear him calling you, stalking you in the dark shadows like a starving dog hunting to devour fresh meat.

“Can’t run from me forever, darlin’. You keep on runnin’, but I’ll eventually find you,” he chuckles as his deep voice reverberates around the echoing halls.

You cover your mouth, keeping your body down as you run run run past the expensive statues and monumental paintings of the abandoned mansion. Your throat is on fire the longer you run, your body aching like that of a dying man on his last breath of life. Your legs feel like they’ll give way at any second, but you have to keep going. You can’t give up. Not yet. Not when he’s right on your tail.

Tired. You’re so very tired, yet you keep running. Dragging your hollow body down the vine covered corridors of the wide hallways as you gasp for fresh air in your watered down lungs.

You fly around a narrow corridor and nearly trip yourself on a bed of dark green vines that bite at your ankles, threatening to take you down as Joel draws closer to you.

You can feel his overbearing presence, can taste the whiskey that bleeds inside his thick veins, can feel his large body already crowding yours as if he’s already caught you. He hasn’t caught you yet, but you know he will. He always catches you.

This was all a game. A dark, twisted game that started on a cold night in December. You remember the first time he chased you, the first time he tore through all your clothes the minute he captured you and devoured your entirety on that pitch black night. Now, every first Saturday of each month you’d meet him back at this abandoned mansion to play his little game. He called it hide and seek, you called it a deadly game of cat and mouse because you were the mouse, and cats always caught their prey.

It’s like you two are stuck in a never ending dance, two souls completely consumed in the other as you spin in circles until one of you collapses. You shouldn’t keep coming back, shouldn’t want to play his dark little games, but yet you come. Every single time, you come, unable to face the reality of a month without his touch, his taste, his growls. You’d let the man do as he wanted because how could you resist those charming, big brown eyes? You couldn’t, you just couldn’t. You were a moth drawn to a flame, and he was the brightest, most dangerous flame of all. Something you wanted to forever be branded by.

Joel Miller was a fucking menace of society, but he was your menace. So you’d continue the game until one of you stopped breathing.

“Where are you, little lamb?” he calls as your breath scorches the vine covered walls. You continue running, twisting around dark corners, running down stone steps, and hiding behind crimson curtains.

The next wooden door you come upon is locked tight. No amount of shaking the golden handle or hurling your body into the door will make it budge. You turn your head from side to side. The only way out is from the way you came. The hallway that he is in. Fuck.

You gulp down a silent breath and make a run for it, even though you know he’ll be there waiting like a prowling wolf.

You take careful steps down the marble hallway and sneak around the cold corner until you see his dark silhouette shining against the reflective flooring. You gasp as your eyes go wide, but before you can run he reaches out a long arm and clasps tightly to your wrist.

“There ya are, little lamb. Thought you’d get away from me this time?” he smirks as he wraps his calloused fingers tightly around you and tries to pull you in.

“Haven’t caught me just yet,” you laugh as you somehow manage to slip out of his grip and make a run for it.

You run down some slippery stone steps and end up at the back of the mansion with vine covered long corridors and twisting mazes of green bushes. You run as fast as you can as the wind sweeps through your long hair, letting the brisk wind set your adrenaline on fire.

You manage one glance back and see just how fast he’s creeping up on you. He’s like a lion running after a gazelle, the hunter about to attack the prey with its bare claws. And he will destroy his prey.

You take a few more steps, but then you feel a hand claw at your shoulder. He takes you down on the hard floor as you come crashing down to the pit of your doom. Pain radiates through your body, but you brush it off as you crawl forward, trying to escape the man that will take you as his own.

“Where do ya think you’re goin’, pretty thing?” he asks darkly as he wraps a hand around your ankle and tugs you in his direction. You hear a squeak escape your mouth like a trapped mouse that just got caught by a giant cat.

“I’m running away from you,” you answer back as you kick and try to squirm out of his reach.

He obviously has other plans because he drags you back underneath him and turns you flat on your back as he pins your hands above your head, his hips and large thighs caging you in so you can’t break free. He won this round, like he always did.

“Didn’t think I’d catch you so soon, little lamb,” he chuckles deeply as the weight of his body hangs over yours entirely.

“You just caught me off guard,” you sigh as you see his dark chocolate eyes honing in on yours. They’re so captivating, so damn pretty that you can’t look away. He’s so gorgeous even when you should find him intimidating.

“Now you’re mine,” he smirks as his chocolate eyes become darker, more blown out as he hovers his plush lips over yours. “Just what am I gonna do to you tonight, hmm?” he asks as lust fills the void of his dark eyes, making you squirm with anticipation already. You know what you want. You want him.

“Maybe I should be a little rough with you, hmm? That what you want?” he asks with the tick of his sculpted jaw, his thick eyebrow raising as he looks at you like he just won the most valuable prize in town.

You shouldn’t want this, shouldn’t be feeding his sick mind as he plays his dark games, but you can’t help it. You want it just as bad as he does. You want him to be rough with you.

You look at him with wide eyes and smirk right back at him, challenging his dominant side to give in. “So be rough with me,” you whisper back.

You see his dark eyes grow large with need as he huffs out through his nostrils. “Open,” he demands as he grabs a hold of your jaw and squeezes, just enough for your lips to part open slightly. He bends his head down and inhales deeply as he spits into your mouth as you feel the warm spit cover your tongue.

“Swallow,” he growls as you fully oblige. You close your mouth and swallow as you taste his spit slide down your throat. All hot and moist as you taste him in the back of your throat. And somehow you think it’s so goddamn hot.

“Good girl,” he praises as he shifts his weight down and starts unbuttoning your faded denim jeans.

“Now, you’re gonna be a good girl for me, right?” he asks as he starts to drag the denim down your legs, feeling a wave of slick slide down your lace panties as your adrenaline kicks in.

“Mhm,” you nod as you watch him strip your legs bare, next going to tear off your sticky pink t-shirt while he hovers over the fine lace of your bra, his calloused fingers circling your back as he slowly undoes the clasps.

“Gonna let me taste every inch of you, little lamb? Gonna let me fuck you till you can’t take anymore?” he asks as he undoes the last clap and slowly starts to slide the bra free, leaving your full breasts exposed to the chilly night air. The only thing left is your slick covered panties, and then you'll be completely bare.

“Yes,” you breathe as he cups your breasts and slides his tongue along the crook of your neck, all teeth and tongue as he nips and bites at your flesh.

You can’t help the burn, can’t help the absolute need that courses through your body as his weight encompasses your chest. His hot breath bleeds into your lungs and it’s as if you can breathe fresh air for the first time. His woodsy, whiskey scent makes you dizzy as he slides his wet tongue along your bottom lip as he hovers his weight above you. He’s like a wolf that comes to feed on you in the night, and you’ll gladly let him devour you whole.

He snakes his hand down your abdomen and slides his hand underneath your ruined panties as he presses his thumb in between your folds, collecting slick as you groan at the feel of him spreading you wide.

“Open up, darlin’. Wanna give you a taste,” he whispers. He slides his thumb in your mouth, and you press your tongue around it, tasting the sweet saltiness of your own arousal as you let it slide down your throat.

He opens his mouth and sucks the rest of the slick off as he moans at the taste of you in his system. “You taste so fuckin’ sweet, darlin’. Wanna just eat you up,” he groans as he hovers his lips back over yours, inching closer and closer until you’re practically begging him to drop down on your lips.

“Please,” you whine as your hands fist at his green flannel shirt, desperate for him to get closer to you.

“Please what?” he smirks as his dark eyes weigh into yours, pools of lust overflowing the edges as his pupils now expand into complete darkness. A predator about to eat his prey up entirely.

You have to use all your strength to get any words out, desperate for his touch. “Take me, all of me,” you plead as your eyes search his black pits that burn you alive.

“Oh, sweetheart. I’m gonna take it all,” he smirks.

Before you have time to respond, he drops his lips on yours and fists your hair as he tugs hard and pries your lips apart as he slots in his wet tongue. He glides his tongue against yours and circles your mouth as you moan against him and drink his whiskey breath down.

He breaks apart from your mouth and nips playfully down your neck as he kneads your breasts together. His tongue comes down to circle each nipple, bringing them to life as they harden and pebble for him as you writhe underneath him in pleasure.

His experienced hands are everywhere, burning your skin alive as he skates his calloused fingers up and down your glistening body that’s now caked in sweat. He shoves your legs apart and slides the lace down your legs as he sits back and examines your entire naked body that’s on full display just for him. Glistening skin and slick coated folds splay out in front of him, and he looks like a mad man the way he’s looking at you.

His nostrils flare as his eyes grow wide, the big black pits scavenging your body as he drags a hand through his thick salt-and-pepper scruff as he groans out a heated response. “Goddamn, little lamb. You’re so fuckin’ wet and ready for me. I can hardly stand it,” he moans as he slides between your legs and pushes your thighs apart, his calloused fingers spreading your folds apart as he spits down in between them and starts running meticulously up and down your open folds as he starts circling your clit slowly.

You moan and writhe underneath his fingers, but he just presses a big hand to your stomach and holds you still as he works his fingers up and down your soaked pussy. And it feels so good that you want to crawl out of your own skin as the flames alight in your lower regions.

“Fuck,” you moan as he licks a thick strip from your dripping hole all the way to the top of your clit as his nose brushes against the coarse hair that sits above your clit. He inhales a large whiff of you as he groans and wraps his arms around your thighs as he holds you down against the cool ground.

“That’s right, little lamb. Gonna have you screamin’ my name by the time I get done with you,” he chuckles darkly as he dives back in.

His tongue devours you as he slides it up and down, drawing tight circles around your throbbing bundle of nerves as he sucks you deep into his mouth. He glides his middle and ring finger into your dripping hole and works them in and out as he curls up and hits your spongy walls again and again as his tongue feasts on your clit and his fingers go knuckle deep into your pussy.

Your eyes start to roll back as your head hits the hard floor, your body feeling like it’s floating on a cloud as hot heat starts to slide down the base of your spine. Close, you’re so close. Almost there.

He growls up at you as he demands your attention right now. “LOOK AT ME,” his voice echoes off the vine covered walls as his dominance sheds through the dim light of the hallway.

Your eyes snap up to find blown out dark pupils looking up at you as he sucks you in his mouth expertly. His nail beds dig into your thighs as one of his fists sit knuckle deep in your pussy. You’ve never seen him so wild, so much like a starving wolf that it makes more slick slide down his fingers as he pumps in and out of your drenched walls.

He pops your bundle of nerves out of his mouth as he gives you one more long lick as he growls up at you with pure dominance in his words. “Come for me, little lamb. Want ya to scream my name, tell me just who’s makin’ you feel good. Come on, darlin’. Show me how you break,” he smirks as he quickens the pace of his fingers and drops back on your clit as he circles circles circles until you’re seeing stars in your vision.

“Joel, I’m gonna… gonna,” you whine as you feel your orgasm start to break apart.

“Go on. Come for me. Be a good girl now and obey,” he growls as he pulls you back into his mouth while his fingers press up into the spongy walls as you feel yourself coming hard for him.

You clench up around his fingers and feel slick start to rain down his fingers onto your thighs as you throw your head back and scream his name as your moans echo through the long, dim lit corridor. Your body feels like white noise washing through it as your toes curl and your fingers slide through his tousled curls.

He groans as your fingers dig into his scalp while he licks up every inch of spilt slick in between your thighs. You feel your high start to come down as you take nice, deep breaths and focus on the buzzing in your ears.

Joel sits on his knees and views the mess that he made in between your legs as you splay across the floor with your legs still wide open for him. He must enjoy the view because he can’t keep his hungry eyes off you.

“Such a good girl, you know that? Now, gonna let me take ya all the way? Gonna let me fuck ya now, sweetheart?” he smirks as he starts unbuttoning his green flannel shirt, undoing the buttons quickly as he slides it off his thick arms and throws it in a heap next to the vine covered wall. His rock hard abs sit glistening in the night light while a happy trail of dark, coarse hair sits just above the waist of his jeans in a v shape. It makes you want to get on your hands and knees and crawl to him as you beg to have just a little taste of him.

“Yes, please. Fuck me,” you moan as you push your breasts together as your center feels on fire for him.

“Oh, I’m gonna fuck ya deep, little lamb,” he smirks as he knits his eyebrows together in concentration.

He unbuttons his dark jeans and threads the leather belt through his belt loops while he shoves his jeans and boxers down his legs while he stands and hovers over you with his hard cock hitting the base of his hairy stomach as the tip sits weeping and swollen, just waiting to get inside you.

You lick your lips together and stare at the swollen tip as saliva starts to coat your mouth. You can practically taste the salt on your tongue, can almost feel the precum sliding down your throat as you beg him for just one more taste. He looks so delicious, and you want to just eat him right up.

He smirks down at you as he sees you staring at his thick cock that screams your name. “Want a taste, little lamb?” he smirks as you nod your head mindlessly.

“Get over here then and do somethin’ ‘bout it,” he demands as he pulls you up by your hair and plants you on your knees in front of his large body.

“Go on then. Let me see how good you can choke on this cock, darlin’.” He flashes his pearly whites at you and wraps his fingers around your hair as you take your hand and start sliding it up and down as you spread the precum all over his thick length.

You lick the tip lightly and swirl around slowly as you tease him while your hand works up and down the base of him. “Fuck, there ya go,” he groans as you take him inside your mouth as you taste salty goodness drip down your throat. You take him deeper as you choke on him, feeling the drool coat his cock as you go back and forth on him slowly.

He grabs tighter to your hair and starts to fuck up into your mouth as you feel him bottom out at the base of your throat as it constricts around his thick length. You choke and gag around his length as he deep throats you over and over again. Your vision blurs as the tears lick at the corners of your eyes, but you don’t care. You love when he chokes you out, when his cock is deep in your throat as you hear his stifled moans get caught in his throat the more your mouth deep throats him.

“Fuckin’ Christ,” Joel growls as his thrusts become rougher and deeper, enough to where you’re gagging on your own drool as it coats your mouth as he slips deeper inside.

Before you think you can’t take anymore, he releases his cock from your mouth as a bead of drool connects from his tip to your lower lip as you choke for air with his fingers still firmly wrapped around your hair.

“Good fuckin’ girl,” he praises as he releases you and shoves you back to the ground as your back his the cold floor. “Now spread those legs, sweetheart. Gonna fuck ya nice and deep now,” he instructs as he spreads your legs and gets down on his knees. He throws your legs over his shoulders and lines his cock up with your folds as he slowly slides the tip up and down your folds as your spit on his cock collects with the messy slick in between your legs.

“Jus’ relax now, darlin’. Let me help fill this pretty pussy up,” he smiles as he shoves his cock through your folds and fills you up.

You gasp at the stretch, he’s so fucking big that you never quite get used to the stretch. There’s a tinge of pain, but mostly you’re so full of him that all you can focus on is how good he’s making you feel. He fucks up into you deeper as he bottoms out inside you over and over again.

His body hovers over you as his lips nip against your neck as he slides in and out of you faster faster faster as you start to feel wildlife burn through your whole body. He folds your legs in half like a pancake as he fucks deeper inside you, making your walls squeeze his large length tight as you get close to your second orgasm.

You study his appearance, focusing on his knit eyebrows that are sewn together in concentration as he loses himself in you entirely. Sweat sticks to his forehead as his curls stick together in the glistening sweat. His broad back is flexing and tightening around you as your nails claw his tan skin, making him moan into the shell of your ear as he licks against the edge of your ear with thick pants leaving his mouth.

You kiss along the edge of his jaw, nipping at his scruff as you moan his name eagerly into the base of his ear as he speeds up his thrusts, bottoming out again and again until you can’t take it anymore.

“Joel, I’m gonna… fuck, I’m gonna come,” you pant out as he presses his forehead against yours.

“Come for me, pretty girl. Let me feel ya,” he commands as he thrusts up inside once twice three more times until you’re squeezing his cock with your walls and pouring yourself all over him. You moan his name and scratch your nails down his back as he moans back in satisfaction.

“Oh, that’s a good girl,” he praises as he continues rutting up inside you until he’s choking for air with his own tongue.

“Christ, I’m gonna come. Fuck, I’m gonna…” He doesn’t take long till he’s shooting thick ropes of come inside your walls as you feel warmth bubbling all inside you. He takes a minute to let it all out, releasing all his spend inside you as you breathe in his whiskey coated scent.

“Fucking hell, sweetheart. Can’t get enough of that sweet pussy,” he groans as he pulls his cock out of you and lets his spend slide down your milky thighs.

He collapses onto his back and pulls you into his side as you wrap a leg around his waist and inch your head up to the crook of his neck as your arm wraps around his broad chest.

“Some game, huh?” you pant as your exhausted body splays over the entirety of him.

“Some game,” he agrees as he rakes his fingers through your messy hair and kisses the top of your forehead as you relax all your weight into him.

“Think there’s ever gonna be a day where you won’t catch me?” you ask curiously as he smiles down and shakes his head at you.

“No, sweetheart. I’m always gonna catch you. Even if I have to run a couple miles to get to you. I’ll always catch you, my pretty girl.”

You smile as he pulls you tight against his body, and you spend the rest of the night just lying on the floor in the abandoned mansion where this all started in the first place. A twisted game that ended in two lovers running back to each other again and again.

Maybe some games aren’t meant to be played, but this one was specifically made for you and Joel. The cat and the mouse who started off running away from each other, but it ended with both of you falling apart together.

Tagging some mutuals who might want to read🩷 @milla-frenchy @vividispunk @littlevenicebitch69 @jasminedragoon @morallyinept @mountainsandmayhem @dugiioh @pedrostories @syd-djarin @laurrrra @joelmillersblog @joelmillerisapunk @amyispxnk @msjarvis @lotusbxtch @untamedheart81 @littlemisspascal

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tightjeansjavi · 1 year ago

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snooze

A/N: this is all @corazondebeskar fault 🥺

~Word Count: 717~

Summary: Joel loves to nap

Pairing | Joel Miller x f!reader

Warnings: none, domestic fluff, soft!joel, peepaw!joel and a sprinkle of angst, readers nickname is honeypie and lady, reader has no physical descriptions (given the content of my blog, all fics are +18 minors dni!)

The last thing Joel Miller ever expected after the outbreak was finding himself in a domestic situation where he had the luxury of fucking napping.

He loved to nap.

Sometimes he’d fall asleep in the porch chair out on the back deck with the sun warming his face. He’d set his guitar down to the side, cross his arms over his chest and mumble about how he’s just gonna rest his eyes for a few minutes.

When you come outside to check on him, he’s snoozing, soft snores slipping past his plush lips. Face relaxed, and the once permanent furrow of his brows is no longer present.

Sometimes after dinner he’d situate himself on the couch with you and Ellie on either side of him while he lets Ellie pick out a movie to watch. He’ll argue that he won’t fall asleep..this time. But between the blanket draped over his legs, and Ellie curled up with her head in his lap, he’s dozing off with his head resting on your shoulder.

His favorite time to nap is arguably right after lunch. Specifically Sunday’s because it’s the one day out of the week where he’s not on patrol, and he gets to spend his whole day with you.

The sunroom is a new addition that he and Tommy built together. There’s a built-in bookshelf along the wall that is brimming with all different genres of books. There’s even some house plants. The main star of the room is the cozy chaise lounge. It’s a bit faded, and has seen better days, but he loves it.

His eyes are already droopy when you move to get up from the spot you were sitting on. He loved it when you would read to him, and today’s book was Wuthering Heights.

“Where you goin’,honeypie?” He rasps, peeking one eye open to look over at you.

You place your hand over his covered knee, squeezing it gently before you lean over and press a soft kiss to his cheek, and then his lips. “Laundry is probably done by now. I’ll be right back, okay?” You brush away a few strands of his soft curls. He’s been growing his hair out lately, and the grays in his beard are more prominent. You’ve never stopped loving this man, and he’s never stopped loving you.

“Hurry back, please. Miss you already.” He murmurs, lips curving into a lazy grin.

He’s a sap. A real softy now that he has no reason to fear. You and Ellie, and this town have turned a lion into a house cat.

“You’re a real softy, Joel Miller.” You whisper and brush away a few stray breadcrumbs from his patchy beard.

“Mhm. ‘S’cus’ of you, lady.” He teases gently.

You peck his lips once more, lulling him to close his eyes. Rest, Joel. You have all the time in the world to sleep. To love. To relax. To live. All the time, my love.

His lashes flutter as he sinks further into the couch, awaiting your return so he can snuggle with you once more.

Taking care of the laundry and tidying up the kitchen takes all of 10 minutes for you to complete. You find yourself thinking about the days when 10 minutes could either mean life or death. 10 minutes used to feel like 10 seconds. To run. To hide. To fight. 10 minutes now felt like 10 hours. 10 years.

You and Joel fought hard for this life of peace and not a day goes by where you don’t feel grateful for it all.

When you return to the sunroom, one of his legs is sticking out from under the quilted blanket, and he’s sprawled out entirely. His skin holds a warm glow from the trickling sunlight coming in through the windows.

He senses your presence even in his light slumber, and his arms subconsciously reach for you.

I’m here. You reassure him as his eyes open, droopy with sleep. He looks scruffy and soft at the same time. A big ole teddy bear; all yours.

Missed you. He murmurs softly as his arms wrap around your middle, pulling you back against his strong chest.

Missed you too, Joel. You melt into his warm embrace. Heartbeats steady, calm and at peace.

Two house cats basking in the sunlight, bellies full, and hearts warm.

Banners made by the lovely @saradika 🤍

I no longer have a taglist so please follow @tightjeansjaviupdates for fic updates and notifications!

#joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel x you #joel x reader #soft!joel miller #joel miller fluff #joel miller imagine #joel miller drabble #joel the last of us #joel miller fic #post outbreak joel

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nehi-soda · 6 months ago

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In desperate need of some young game Joel Miller post outbreak fics. This Joel does not get enough attention or love. 🥲

*Image from fireflyEJ26 on Pinterest.

#I may write one myself to fill the void #joel miller #post outbreak joel #game post outbreak Joel #pixel joel

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domesticgoddess22 · 6 months ago

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wish upon a cowboy

chapter 5: giver/taker

pairing: raider!joel miller x fem!reader Summary: A rugged raider takes you under his wing after hunters leave you for dead. The two of you form a team and you quickly grow attached to him–mumbling, grumbling, protective Joel Miller. When you divulge your wishes to experience life before the outbreak, Joel decides to make them come true. All of them. warnings: age gap (early 20s/mid 40s), praise kink, breeding kink, daddy kink, unplanned pregnancy, unprotected piv, canon-typical violence, light choking, dom!Joel, angst word count: 3.3k(ch5) rating: 18+ explicit MDNI masterlist | Ao3 | My Booktower @orcasoul @guiltyaschargedmf @idrkman (Thank you, guys. I'm going to assume you want to be tagged for the next few chapters too. Please let me know if not, no judgement <3 )

au: quick recap. You just told Joel you were pregnant and before he can respond, there's a group of raiders that threaten both of your safety.

~~~~

Joel’s jaw locks and his nostrils flare, the only telltale signs that he’s having any emotional response to your news and doing everything in his power to keep it bottled up inside. Whether it’s anger he feels or excitement, you don’t know. So he says nothing, tugs your arm with near-bruising force, and stuffs you into the nursery closet.

“J-Joel! Don’t leave me in here I can–”

“Shut up!” He demands in a hushed whisper, the closet door clicking shut and obstructing the angry snarl of his lips from your view. “Do not move from this closet,” is his last command before stepping back out into the loft.

Whatever it is he’s feeling, he’s channeling it into something physical. Something violent. You see it through the crack of the bifold doors with the way he swaggers over to the stairwell, twirling his handgun around his pointer finger like he’s about to play a game of darts with his buddies–like death isn’t waiting around the corner to claim yet another soul from this wasteland. Joel’s broad shoulders are tense, brow furrowed, back pressed against the stairwell as the men enter the house.

“We know you’re in here, and we know you’ve got a pretty little whore with ya. Come out now and we won’t hurtchya, how’s that sound?”

The man’s voice is raspy, like he’s smoked a pack of Marlboro Reds and sipped car oil for the last eighteen years, and that’d be a feat because both items are scarce. The unwelcoming sound of his voice cuts across the house in a thunderous bellow, like the terrorizing sound of infected thrashing against the metal walls of your old QZ.

When Joel doesn’t respond, the man’s temper ignites. “Look, there’s four of us and only two of you. Do the math, bitch!”

Your heartbeat is a deafening, pounding drum in your ears. You still see Joel, a horizontal sliver in the crack of the door, illuminated with the humble rays of twilight that make his lumberjack green flannel look more like steel blue. He’s silent like a predator, unmoving but alert, his eyes trained on the men downstairs as he takes shelter in the shadows.

Before you can process what’s happening, Joel is out of your field of view and gunshots bang in a rapid succession. Three shots–four? It could have been ten, but you lost count after the first two when your ears started ringing. Your eyes are wide in shock, your body trembling in fear of what’s next to come. Then you hear the rumbling roars of angry men followed by a thundering crash downstairs. Two men are shouting profanities, fists punching against flesh, wood splintering, and the sound of bodies crashing to the floor.

Suddenly your painful memories of your parents’ execution flash through your mind. The empty, lonely feeling in the pit of your stomach when they left this world. Left you. And then you were on your own again. Alone so long you forgot what it felt like to have someone hold you. Couldn’t remember the warmth of someone’s touch and if you even missed it.

The only contact you’d had was that of violence, of the men back in Austin that tried to have their way with you, of thieves that left you with a bullet in your thigh in the middle of a clicker-infested city.

And then you met Joel. Sure he was grumpy, didn’t say much, and sometimes seemed almost annoyed with you, but you eventually learned that it’s just how he is. That underneath that thick layer of hurt he wears, there’s a soft teddy bear that’s ready to protect you at all costs. Yet, all you can do is hide. Guilt weighs on you like a thousand bricks. You’d hoped to be more useful than this, but without a weapon, you’re just chicken that’s too scared to get your ass out of this closet and go help.

The final gunshot goes off and there’s a loud thump on the wooden floorboards, the showdown between the last two men standing has come to an end. Now there’s only one man left in the house with you. He’s either a killer or a killer. You hope to God that it’s Joel because if it isn’t, there’s going to be a big gaping hole in your heart when you have to walk this earth without him–assuming you make it out of this house alive.

So you hope that it’ll be him who appears at the top of the stairs in victory. That he’ll open the closet doors and give you that grumpy look of his, mutter that he ‘took care of it’ like he always does and you’ll rush into his arms, thanking God that he made it. But when the house is eerily still and there’s no sign of Joel, the heartwrenching reality of losing him sinks into the pit of your stomach like an anvil.

It only took two months. Two months for you to fall in love with him. Two months for him to fuck you so good that he got you pregnant. You cover your mouth to muffle your sobs, sticky tears streaming down your face, letting a good minute pass before you summon the courage to move.

With a shaky, feathered touch you push open the creaky doors and will yourself out of your hole, knees chafing against the muck green carpet as you scuffle out of the nursery and peek through the stair rail. You see three figures splayed out on the kitchen floor, but in the dim light of the late afternoon, you can’t confirm if any of them are Joel.

The wooden railing presses into each side of your cheek as you careen forward a little further, nose peeking out from between the bars, eyes cast downward with apprehension to find the startling image of a thick pool of blood that’s painted the checkered tile a jarring shade of crimson.

Skin as rough as sandpaper clasps around the back of your neck, fingers snaking into your hair and yanking you up off the floor. “Well, well, well, whatta we have here?” A yellow grin shines at you, blood oozing from a mean cut chiseled across his cheek. “Found myself a little mouse,” he coos, and there’s a horrid stench of cigarettes that sucker punches your gag reflex.

“What the fuck did you do to Joel?” You hiss as your face scrunches up with a mixture of anger and despair before you melt into a sob. That the last gunshot was for Joel. You were officially alone and would probably die soon too, if you were lucky.

“Awww, don’t cry now. You don’t need that old fart, now do ya?” His voice is dripping with false sincerity, disgustingly saccharine that it only made you cry more. “Woah, woah woah, did he fuck you that good? Don’t worry little bambi, I’ll show ya a good time and you won’t cry no more.”

The despair doesn’t last long. Joel’s voice calls your name from in the kitchen, and then his angry footsteps eat the stairs.

The man whips you in front of him, a knife digging its nasty edge into your cheek. “Come any close and I’ll fucking cut her up!” He screams, chest heaving in a sporadic rhythm. “Don’t think I won’t, bitch!”

Joel stops in his tracks at the top of the stairs, gun aimed at the target, and from your perspective, dangerously close in aim to your body as well.

“You best do as I say if you want her to live.”

“What d’ya want?” Joel’s voice is raspier, deeper than the gentler version that you’re used to.

His elbow hooks tighter around your neck as he belts out, “Gun on the ground–NOW!!”

Joel doesn’t move, doesn’t obey. “Let’s just talk about this first–”

“I said now!” Spit flies across the room as the man reaches the precipice of unhinged–if he wasn’t already there.

“Easy, easy,” Joel coos as though he’s talking to a horse. He bends at the knees, slowly easing himself down to place his gun on the ground, but you know it’s all a facade. Joel can’t bend his knees all the way without suffering the consequences of his age. There’s no way he’s going to gently ease down.

Joel, half-crouched as he prepares to drop his gun, flicks his eyes at you. The two of you exchange a telepathic agreement on what would transpire next before he redirects his gaze to the enemy. Your brows crease desperately as your mouth puckers together to silently mouth the word no. Because what can you even do?

That’s when the enemy’s elbow constricts even tighter around your neck. You notice the gleam of blood oozing out of a wound in his forearm. A bullet wound. With a deep breath and a strong dose of courage, you dig your thumb into his wound with all your might, a guttural roar tearing from your lungs as you do.

You duck. A gunshot erupts.

One shot to his chest, then two, and the man finds himself knocked back against the stair rail. He flips back from the sudden impact and then there’s a loud thud of his body meeting the first floor of the house. Unable to tear your eyes away from the horror, you curl into yourself as the prospect of death releases its chokehold on you once more.

And it’s all thanks to Joel, who rushes to your side and wraps his arms around you, your back is flush against his chest, and you feel a sudden rush of warmth and safety. “Thought I told ya to stay hidden? Shoulda known you wouldn’t listen.”

“I thought something happened to you, I didn’t know what to do!”

“I told ya I always win,” he breathes out, voice smokey and confident in the shell of your ear. He rests his chin on your shoulder and rocks your body side to side, his hands gently gripping your waist for support. His chest is still heaving from the earlier altercation as his calloused palm slides up from under your sweatshirt and you feel his rough hand flush against your belly. “Think the baby is happy I won?” He smirks into your neck and you feel butterflies flutter in your stomach.

You twist your neck around to meet his gaze, big brown eyes look at you lovingly. “Yeah, I think the baby is happy their daddy won.” Your breath ghosts his lips and then you smile, looking up at him through thick lashes.

He spins you around so his hips are pressed into yours, and then he pulls you into a sweet kiss, which quickly transitions to something more heated and steamy as he goes from tasting your lips to lapping at your tongue. A masculine groan rumbles from his throat all the way into yours. That’s when you realize he’s hard. Really hard.

“Joel, right now? Really?” Your tone is playful as you stifle your giggles, pushing away his kisses to no avail. He demands more, kissing and licking your neck instead.

“You put a spell on my or some’n ‘cuz baby, your pussy is all I can think about,” he’s sucking on your neck now, thrusting into you with his jeans on. “Now you go ‘n tell me you're pregnant with my kid, how else am I supposed to celebrate?”

“We shouldn't do it here, though. It's still not safe.”

“If anybody comes in here…” Joel begins, pausing as his heady kisses decorate your neck, “I'll just kill ‘em.” Your panties feel soaked at the sound of his protective threat. His forearms meet the backside of your thighs, cushioning your ass as he lifts you off of the ground and into his veiny arms. His strong lower back muscles feel firm against your calves as you cling to him, his hard cock throbbing through his jeans against where you need him most.

In the master bedroom, the moonlight spills on the sheets like water, illuminating the faded silk fabric with a bluish glow. The dresser is decorated with relics from another time, a vase with withered flowers, porcelain knick knacks of a wedding couple, and dusty necklaces–all of which barely have enough luster left to light the room, like the dimming light of a candle as it swallows the last inch of its wick.

Joel rests you on the edge of the oakwood dresser, releasing you from his embrace just long enough to remove your pants, and then he presses his torso into you once more. His tongue dances with yours, chest heaving as he pours every kiss he has into your soul. One thick palm is pressed to your cheek and then he curls it around your neck for support, reeling you in even closer.

His other hand finds yours, tangling your fingers together like a stitch that could never be unsewn. His touch and his kiss felt like real love, even if it wasn’t said in words, you could feel your love for him, and you hoped that he felt it too.

All your life, you’ve never felt more safe than you do by Joel’s side. You belong here. Belong with him. It’s in this moment that you realize you were meant to be with Joel from now until the rest of your life. It was no mistake that you were carrying his child, it was exactly as it should be. There was never going to be anyone else besides Joel. You were safe by him, safe in his arms, his kiss, and safe with his cock buried inside you every night.

He pulls your panties to the side, a string of your wet connecting you to the fabric. “Oh sweetie…” Joel coos, rubbing the thick pads of his fingertips against your slippery folds. “Did’ya miss me that much?”

You bite your lower lip and look up at him, wide-eyed and slutty as you moan mhmmmm. He hums in approval, peeling your shirt off to reveal your perky, bare breasts. In one long drag, he licks your chest from just above your breast up to your collarbone.

“Baby, ‘m not gonna be gentle with you. Need you bad.” His voice is hot in your ear, locks of your hair tickling your cheek from the soft wind of his breath. “You gonna be a good girl for me?” He asks, rubbing delicious circles into your clit that make it impossible to refuse him.

“Y-Yes.”

“Yes what?” He says through gritted teeth, yanking your panties off.

“Yes, Daddy.”

“That’s my girl. Now spread those legs f’me and show me that pretty little pussy.” Obediently, you do as he says, a desperate need to please him igniting your core. The last time he had you, you were both drunk. This time would be different and you could feel it. He was sober, more aware of your body, more in control. He sinks to his knees, relishing in the view of your glistening cunt. “Fuck… You’re gorgeous. Been dreamin’ about this since the last time I had you.”

His bristly beard brushes against your naked thighs and his lips hover over your slit. You can feel his breath, a warm, welcoming breeze in the cool fall air. “No…” You plea, pushing him away, but you have no effect on him as he digs his nose into your folds and tastes your entrance. “Joel, I’m embarrassed.”

“Don’t be. You’re beautiful,” he praises and proceeds to suck on your bud. Your back arches in ecstasy. Whatever part of you refused him before was long gone and replaced with a slutty girl that was begging for more.

“Ahhn, just like that–Don’t stop.”

“You were tellin’ me no just a second ago, now you’re beggin’ for more?” His laugh rumbles into you, vibrating your pussy and making you feel even more stimulated. You moan at the pressure of his tongue swirling on your clit, shamelessly rolling your hips onto his face as he pulls his name from your lips.

“Want you inside me–Please, please…” The words tumble out of your mouth.

He smirks at you, masculine pride reflecting on his face, “Needy girl. I like that.” He stands up, the sound of his zipper opening is followed by the pressure of his cock against your cunt. With both of his hands firmly on your waist, his hips snap to yours without any warning, all of his length splitting you open with a delicious sting that quickly becomes euphoric. Both of your jaws go slack at the feel of one another.

This time around, you were carrying his baby, creating a bond between the two of you that could never be broken. You belonged to him and belonged to you. Joel’s eyes are dangerously dark as he leans over you, your ass in his hands, his cock in your cunt, and now his lips against yours. He kisses you roughly, tongue tasting yours as you gasp for air in between each kiss.

His hips slap against yours at a devastating pace, the trinkets on the dresser clinking together, drawers shaking violently, the entire frame of the dresser threatening to dent the walls.

His kisses are rough, his thrusting is brutal, and his grip on your waist was sure to leave bruises in the morning. Joel is far from gentle. He’s fucking you. Hard. And you love every minute of it. The way his skin sounds slapping against yours, the way he grunts in echo of your wanton moans, and the way your wet sounds squelching with his juice, dripping out of your slot and coating the salt and pepper bristles around his cock. It leaves your mouth watering, your cunt dripping, and your legs shaking.

It’s the best sex you ever had.

Joel’s groans deepen, his pace becoming more erratic as your walls clench around him tighter and tighter. You can feel him swelling with each moan. You wrap your legs around his back and reel him in even closer.

“‘m close, baby.”

“Fuck me,” you plea, just to reach your white hot climax too. “Make me yours, Joel.” Your words are enough to send him over the edge.

“Come on my cock, baby,” the sensations send you over the edge, soaking his cock just like he asks. His head kisses your cervix again and again, and you feel the pressure of his balls on your slot with his final thrust as he pours his warmth into you with a masculine groan, biting into your shoulder and kneading his fingers into your breast.

“We’re gonna have to stop doin’ this eventually,” he says after pulling out his half-hard cock and watching his sperm drool out of your slot. Then he scoops it up and with two fingers, shoves it back into your hole to hide the mess.

“Why?” Your brows knit together, eyes wide with desperation as he pulls out again. Why would either of you ever this to end?

“Don’t matter now since you’re already pregnant, but if we keep this up, you’ll keep gettin’ pregnant again ‘n again,” he says taking a few steps back and zipping up his jeans. You almost feel sad that his cock is no longer on display for your pleasure. You decide to be bold with him–you’ve spread your legs twice for him and are the mother of his baby for God’s sake.

You hop off the dresser, sashay over to where he stands, and snake your palms up his chest before placing them on each of his cheeks. You pull him down to you and softly kiss his lips, the tang of your wet is still an aftertaste on his lips.

“I don’t want this to stop. Ever,” you say, voice a little raspy and worn from your lovemaking session.

Joel looks at you in thought, his beautiful brown eyes, once lustful, are now filled with the glistening shine of adoration. In this moment, you can see the outline of yourself reflected in the darkness of his eyes and a feeling of love floods through you once more.

He smiles, crows feet creasing at the side of his eyes as he says, “I’d like that.”

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#joel miller #joel x reader smut #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel x you #the last of us #fanfic #joel x reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller smut #wish upon a cowboy #joel miller unplanned pregnancy fic #post outbreak joel #raider joel

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leeannsparks · 1 month ago

Text

Jackson's Own Rockstar

Chapter 2 Here

Synopsis: Let it be known that on September 26th, 2003 your life almost ended along with the world because you had a pair of fucking headphones on at work. Absolutely ridiculous looking back on it, but god if you don’t miss that record store sometimes. It’s like you can almost see the way it was before monsters started crashing through the windows and your boss dragged you into the back room. Now, twenty years later, you’ve finally found a little bit of home to grow your peace in, but when gruffness and kindness walk through the gates of Jackson, that peace starts to grow on a shakier foundation.

Chapter One: Nothing Else Matters

You know the shittiest thing about the cordyceps outbreak? You actually loved mushrooms before all of this. Paired on a greasy, cheesy slice of pizza with bacon, or the holistic healing dried ones that you would take before lifting off to another plane of existence. Now, you couldn’t even look at a patch of fungal growth on a tree without prickles of fear slowly tap dancing up your spine.

There were a lot of things you couldn’t look at without that fear, if you’re being honest.

But for now, at least, the dissonant clinking of the bottles that you brought to the back of the Tipsy Bison helps keep it at bay.

“Hey Seth, I’ve just got one more case and then it should be all good to go.” You called out from the back room before making your way out front again.

Seth glanced over his shoulder towards you, he was busy measuring out the decent amount of alcohol into different bottles so that the town wouldn’t drink him dry tonight. “Go ahead and head on out now, you’ve been here since this morning.”

You stopped by the bar, leaning on the counter, grateful for the relief it brought to your aching back. “Aww, what, you don’t want me around anymore Seth?”

His hand, which held up a small notebook and pencil, tried to wave you away. “Exactly, getting sick of seeing your face all the time.” He was trying to hide a smile, you could tell.

Rapping your knuckles on the dented wooden counter, you stood up straight again. “I’ll remember that the next time you want some honey for your biscuits, no more special treatment from me asshole.” Seth was a good guy, a gruff old hard ass but a good guy.

“You’ve been working too damn much rockstar, want you to actually sound somewhat decent when you sing my favorite song tonight.”

He would get his song, but you couldn’t help but mess with him just a bit. “Oh, and who said I’d be singing your favorite, huh? I’ve got a lot of special requests for tonight.” Seth never really asks for much from you outside of work, so if he wants his ‘Blue, Bayou’, well, who are you to say no?

You watched as he leaned down and pulled out a mason jar from underneath the bar. The color inside a deep, rich purple that shone when it caught the few rays of sun peeking in. ‘Star’s Special Juice’ was written in fading ink on the side. A homemade mead that you had asked/begged him to make for you using some honey from the apiary on the edge of town and blackberries. He gently shook the jar as if to say, ‘you want some of this, don’t you?’

One of your hands rested over your heart in mock indignation. “You really gonna hold out on my special juice Seth? Especially since I provided all the ingredients for it?”

He glanced at the jar with a small tilt at the corner of his mouth. “Shit can’t be called juice and you know it.”

Your hands raised in false compliance, “alright, alright, I’ll play it for you, but…” you pointed a finger at him. “I expect a jar ready for me to take home at the end of the night.”

Pretending to think it over, he finally gave you a nod of agreement. “Deal, now get on outta here.”

Your hands lowered in agreement, coming to rest in the pockets of your pants before taking a few steps back and turning out of the Tipsy Bison. The air always smelled a bit sweeter after working in the back room, no more dust clogging up your lungs. The Wyoming temperature was still chilly despite Spring coming around, but the sun was kind enough to help with that.

“You slackin’ off at work Star?” A voice called out from your left.

Tommy Miller, resident cowboy, apple of Jackson’s eye, doting husband and occasional pain in your ass. “Oh honey, if anyone’s slackin’ it’s you.” You called back to him, already beginning your journey to the other side of town.

“Tell Mars I said hi,” you waved over your shoulder with a quick ‘will do’. “You gonna play something for me tonight?” He called out to your retreating form.

Looking back at him, you noticed a new face walking up a few feet from a stack of lumber. He was tall, taller than Tommy, but then again, most people are taller than you anyway. His gaze was lowered, hands fiddling with a pair of gloves, and you noticed the resemblance between the two men. Could this be the other infamous Miller, you thought?

You had heard about his brother's visit a couple months back, riding into town with a kid in tow. But they had barely stayed for a week before heading out again, it definitely left the town talking though.

His face finally tilted up, but immediately turned to the side as if he could avoid the conversation his brother was having that way. You thought there must be something in the Miller genes for those two men to be as handsome as they are. Soft curls, gorgeous face, but a terrible scowl, as if every bit of happiness had been drained out of him. You can’t blame him though, you remember the years that passed without so much as a smile very well. Feeling as though you didn’t even have the freedom to laugh again till you settled here. Give it time Miller, maybe you’ll be able to crack a smile too.

Shoulders shrugging in a what are you gonna do gesture, you turned back to keep walking, speaking at a volume that he could still hear. “You’re at the bottom of the list now Tommy. Shoulda talked to me sooner, like Maria did.”

“Since when does she get special treatment, huh?” He playfully called back, but you just sent him another wave in response, leaving the two brothers behind.

“Who was that?” Joel asked, finally pulling on the gloves that he had been fiddling with.

Tommy turned to lead them both over to the stables. “Oh, that’s just Star, you’ll probably see her around. Oh speaking of which, I meant to let y’all know there’s gonna be a little music night at the Byson if you wanna stop by. It’s always a fun time, plus it might do you some good to start getting to know the town.” He slapped a hand over his brother’s shoulder, jostling him a bit.

Joel shrugged the hand off, nudging him back. “Is that not what the tours are for?”

The younger Miller already knew that it was going to be a fight to get his brother out of the house. “Now come on, you actually might enjoy it, plus it might be good for Ellie you know. They play really good music, especially Star, it can be something you two can bond over. Plus, use it as an excuse to have a drink with your brother.”

“She’s probably not gonna want to go Tommy. Don’t think she’s all that into country music anyway. ” He sure as hell didn’t want to go either, but sometimes it was just easier to use Ellie as an excuse.

Tommy used to never have to try this hard to drag his brother out for a drink, but that was a different brother back then. “Well yeah, she definitely won’t if you don’t even seem interested. But don’t worry about that, there’s a good variety, and some of the teens come around so it might help Ellie meet them, make some friends her own age.”

The two of them pushed open the doors to the stables, one of the beams had started to rot from age, and he told Tommy that he’d help him out. He was eager to find a way out of the conversation but he also hated how right his brother could be, like a damn broken clock. The thing is that he worried about Ellie now even more than he did the months they travelled together.

He blames himself, of course he fucking does, there was almost nothing left of the girl that tried anything to get a smile from him. She slept until noon, which he didn’t think anything of at first; teenagers like to sleep in, he thought. But after the first week in Jackson, he started to see that no matter how much sleep she got, she was just tired. She gave barely there smiles at dinner and never bothered to leave their house. He thought for sure she would have been excited to explore the town, be as loud as she wanted, actually talk to new people, but no. And if he’s being honest with himself, he didn’t have a clue, no plan for what he could do, what he should do. He knew he’d failed her so many times on that journey together, and it’s just something he continues to do.

But how the hell does he tell Tommy all of that?

He doesn’t, so he just goes where he’s needed, and hopes that he can be there for Ellie when she needs him too.

A few hours later, after the beam has been repaired, he tells his brother that he’s going to grab something from the mess hall and head home.

Tommy stops him again before he leaves, trying to plead his case one more time. “Just talk to her about it Joel, she’s gotta come out of the house at some point.” As much he hated it, the words kept repeating over and over again, like a constant reminder that he was failing.

The steps that led to his house still felt like strangers beneath his feet. He walked in and set down the sandwiches he had picked up on the kitchen counter. Still felt odd to even think about taking off his own boots. There’s no reason he should have to rush out of the house, but leaving them behind was a habit he couldn’t shake yet.

“Hey kiddo, brought back some grub from the mess hall,” he called out to the top of the stairs. There was no response, and it left a gnawing fear in his chest as his own voice echoed in the quiet house.

He grabbed the two sandwiches again and started to walk up the steps, each one creaking under the pressure. After the more important repairs were done in Jackson, he needed to talk to Tommy about getting some lumber for his own renovations. He didn’t want Ellie to take a wrong step and break through the floor.

He raised his fist, once, twice before finally knocking on the door, “Ellie?”

There was still no response, but he heard faint shuffling within the room that calmed the frantic thumping in his chest. He turned the door knob, knowing that he should wait until she said something but needing to make sure she’s okay.

And she was, she was curled into the corner where her bed met the wall, window open, breeze blowing away the loose strands of hair that fell around her face. Her knees were up to her chest, an open notebook in her lap and a pencil laden with bite marks between her fingers.

She didn’t look up at him when he walked in, just kept on drawing, the scratching of the pencil breaking apart the silence. “Didn’t say you could come in,” she said, it wasn’t meant to be hateful or rude, just the best teasing she could do right now.

“Didn’t say I couldn’t either,” he walked over to her bed and held out the sandwich as a peace offering. She took it with a small thanks, setting aside her now closed notebook so she could unwrap the foil. Joel sat down at the end of the bed, as close to edge as he could get, trying to give her as much space as possible. His own sandwich was held in hands, they were shaking slightly as he unwrapped it, guess this technically counts as us having dinner together, he thought.

“How's uh, how’s your drawing coming along,” he asked after his first bite.

Her cheeks were puffed out like a chipmunk as she scarfed down the sandwich. Did she not eat anything at all today? “S’fine, just doodles,” and she left it at that, didn’t elaborate or ask anything in return. Should I just leave her be, he asked himself. But no, he couldn’t do that.

It might do you both some good.

It was like Tommy was right there saying those words to him again. He hated when his brother was right, but he hated seeing Ellie in this state more. Looking over at the clock he saw that it was almost six thirty and remembered Tommy saying that the event started at six, he and Ellie could still make it.

After finishing the last bite of his sandwich he stood up and brushed the crumbs away. “Come on and get dressed, we’re going out.”

She looked confused, rightfully so, “out, out where…outside the walls?” The question made him pause because why the hell did she sound excited about that possibility?

“No not outside the walls now come on, I expect you downstairs and ready in fifteen minutes.” He didn’t give her a chance to argue before walking out of her bedroom. This’ll do us some good, he tried to convince himself.

Quarter of an hour later both of them were outside and heading towards the front of Jackson. Easy to tell they were heading in the right direction from the cacophony of sounds, some folks were already stumbling about the streets, eager for normalcy, but above it all there was music. He noticed Ellie’s head perk up at the noise, hoping that Tommy wasn’t lying about them not just playing country music, for her sake.

“So you dragged me out of the house for a bar that I can’t even drink in?” She asked once he turned them towards the direction of the Tipsy Bison.

It got a small laugh out of him, more like a huff than anything else. “I dragged you here cause Tommy promised good music,” he tried to reason, hoping that Ellie wouldn’t immediately turn around and go back home.

“And you want me to trust Tommy’s music taste?” He couldn’t help the small smile that came from her joking with him again

“Well he got it from me, so I better not hear you shitting on it,” he teased back.

“Cool, so I gotta sit through a night of old man music…greeaaatttt.” She dragged out the last word, looking around, probably plotting a quick escape.

“Alright smartass, one hour, if you don’t like it we head home,” home, he thinks, that’s got to be the first time he’s actually called it that since they got here.

“Okay fine…can I have my first beer then?”

The no was out of mouth, firm and resolute before he opened the door to the bar. To say he instantly regretted his decision was an understatement. The bar was the busiest he’s ever seen it as if all of Jackson had tried to cram themselves inside. His eyes immediately darted to Ellie and saw that she felt as out of place as he did.

“You alright?”

Her feet were shuffling side to side and her hands clenched like she was trying to fight off her own anxiety. “Yeah…just an hour right?”

He gave her a firm nod before hearing his name called from across the room, he saw Tommy and Maria at one of the standing tables. His brother had pulled up a chair for his wife who had one hand resting on her stomach and the other clutching the glass of water on the table in front of her.

“Didn’t think you two were gonna show up, glad you made it,” his brother brought him in for a hug and sent a quick nod at Ellie. Good thing he knew not to try that shit with her, the girl would probably punch him if he went in for one. “How you hangin’ in there Ellie?”

“Fine, is this the only shit they’re gonna play tonight?” She asked while pointing at the small band on stage. He opened his mouth to remark about her language but he stopped himself when he saw the smile she had on her face. Whether she was playing it up for Tommy or not, it was nice to see her smile again.

“I’m sure they’ll play something you like at some point, you want a drink brother?” Joel found himself fiercely nodding, unsure if he could even stay the full hour he had bartered without some help. Tommy left the table to head towards the bar, he turned towards Maria, offering her a greeting. However, she didn’t look all too pleased at being left with him, the two of them still had a long way to go apparently. The tension had him second guessing if he’d even be welcome to a seat at their table, but it still didn’t stop him from dragging over two stools.

He felt a tug at the sleeve of his flannel and turned to see Ellie looking over at the bar. “Woah Joel who’s that?”

He tried to follow her line of sight but couldn’t tell which person she was talking about, “who?”

“The chick talking to Tommy,” she clarified. He looked for his brother and saw him chatting with you, the woman from this morning. Earlier he had only caught a glimpse of you as you were walking away but now he could see you fully. He didn’t think women like you even existed anymore. You looked like you could have been one of the girls he had a poster of on his wall in his youth, one that Tommy would have tried to steal and end up ripping.

Long shaggy hair framed around your face, layered and teased to high heaven with streaks of gray. You glittered with silver from your nose, to your ears, even down to your fingers, piercings and jewelry catching the lights above. Draped in a faded gray tank top with some indecipherable logo that had been washed away with time, it left the softness of your arms exposed, there was strength in them but still soft. The shirt was tucked into high-waisted black cargo pants with ends nestled inside beaten and broken boots. Every part of your outfit was tucked but loose to hide the curves beneath. Nearly every inch of exposed skin he could see was covered in faded ink, gray where they once used to be black.

He felt another tug at his arm and realized he had said nothing, just stared, snap out of it, he thought. “I’m not sure, haven’t been introduced yet, think her name’s Star or something.” The name fits you, he thought before mentally shaking himself awake. There’s no way that could be your real name.

Ellie looked at him with even more excitement, “seriously? That’s the sickest name ever.” She turned away from him again and grabbed his wrist trying to drag him along as she took a step. “Come on, we gotta go introduce ourselves.” That one move brought back a memory of Sarah trying to drag him to another store in the mall years ago. Even when he was dead on his feet he still lumbered behind her, anything to make her happy.

“Woah, whoa kiddo, why you in such a rush?” She looked at him as if he was the crazy one, like she hadn’t just been trying to pull him through the crowd.

She gestured over to you, “Joel… did you see her…she’s like the coolest person I’ve ever seen.” Yeah he could imagine she’d never seen someone who looked like they were still stuck in the 80’s.

She tried to drag him along again, but he kept his feet planted. “Well now hold on it looks like she’s busy right now.”

“Yeah busy talking to Tommy, come on Joel…” she trailed off, eyes darting to you again, “no fucking way.”

“Language Ellie.” It came out like an instinct, he wasn’t even sure what she was talking about now.

Her hands started to smack at his arms and he couldn't help the huff of laughter he let out while trying to shake her off him. “Look, look she’s got a guitar dude, holy shit is she gonna play.” He looked back and saw someone from behind the bar hand her a dark guitar, the instrument covered in faded stickers and markings.

“Yeah, Star plays at every music night just about.” Maria said from behind him, he saw that she was smiling at Ellie as well, probably just as grateful to see some excitement from the kid.

“We gotta get a seat.” She was practically jumping in place as if she was going to miss the most important moment of her life.

“Well we’ve already got our own table so come on,” he said while pulling out one of the stools for her. She eagerly hopped up, dancing in her seat as she kept her eyes on you at the other side. He saw you give Tommy a pat on the shoulder before heading over to the makeshift stage, putting the guitar strap over your shoulder.

Tommy started walking back over to the table, drinks in hand, at least he had the good mind to just get Ellie a water. “What’s got you so excited huh?”

“She’s ready to see Star play,” Maria offered as an answer. He turned back to give Joel a questioning look, but he could only return a small, confused shrug.

The sound of clapping drew their attention to the stage where the people up there were now walking off, one of the men stayed behind to address the crowd. “Thanks for letting us play for y’all tonight, now everyone give it up for Jackson’s own rockstar.”

The crowd roared again as you smiled at the man making a grand gesture towards you. You shook your head before walking up the few steps to center stage. In spite of the dozens of eyes on you, you’ve never felt so at home. This place was a lot like the first bar you ever performed in, a gig you would have never gotten if not for your mom. She had worked in Mad Dog’s rundown bar for years to take care of you so the owner had no problem letting you in once a week after you turned sixteen.

“Now y’all know I hate it when you call me that,” you voiced out into the crowd with mock annoyance. While it might have been one of the most pretentious nicknames ever given, you couldn’t help but feel the joy and fire it gave to the twenty-five year old girl still nestled inside you. The girl who practiced in the garage everyday after school, who came up with the most ridiculous band names for a group that would never make it out of that town.

You waited for the crowd to quiet down before carrying on. “I’ve got a few requests tonight but I was hoping to show y’all a few others I’ve been working on if that’s okay?” The crowd cheered in agreement, giving you your cue to get down to it.

Joel couldn't remember the last time he had heard the chords that you started to pluck from those strings. Maybe it was early in the morning on a random drive to work before he knew it would be the last time he heard that song. You were good, fuck you were really good, he thought as your lips parted to sing lyrics that were somehow still imprinted on his brain after all these years.

It’s almost like every conversation halted so that they could live in a moment of nostalgia.

He hadn’t seen this look on Ellie’s face in a long time, not since before Salt Lake. The girl was entranced by you, eyes unblinking so she could take in every note your fingers played. Her own fingers tapped against the wood, like she could almost recreate it, if she just tried hard enough. She looked over at Joel mouthing ‘wow’ before turning her attention towards you again. He wished he could remember that feeling, hearing a song for the first time. Maybe it was the feeling that was settling in his chest right now, the first time. Maybe it was the way your hair swayed in front of you while you bobbed your head, keeping time, keeping a smile on your face that made the song feel brand new.

Even Tommy was lost in a memory for a minute before giving him a look that screamed I told you so, and fuck if that didn’t irritate him, but his suggestion brought a bit of light back to Ellie so it was worth it.

Your fingers smoothly travelled the neck of the guitar as you dragged the outro from the strings, letting it sit for a moment before looking out to the mostly smiling faces of Jackson. The water glass placed on the seat of a stool onstage was picked up before you began again.

He saw a couple stand up from their seats when your next song started, which must have been one of the special requests you mentioned. Three more songs that he thought he’d never get the chance to hear again were played before you addressed the crowd.

“Alright everyone, it’s hot as hell up here so I’m gonna take a quick break,” the people of Jackson booed dramatically as you waved goodbye. Beside him Ellie immediately hopped off of her stool.

She turned to him like she had just received the most important mission, “Joel, I’ve gotta go talk to her.”

For the life of him he couldn’t understand the sudden infatuation the girl had developed for you. But if it kept that light shining a bit brighter than he was okay with it. “Well alright then, go talk to her.”

“Okay,” she said excitedly, turning to walk over to you before quickly pivoting to face Joel again. “Wait, you're not coming with me? What do I say?”

He had never seen Ellie act like this before. “Just go introduce yourself, what are you so nervous about?”

She looked at him as if he was the stupidest person on the planet for even suggesting such a thing. “Dude she’s like an actual fucking rockstar, I mean come on.

Tommy and Maria tried to hide their laughter at the girl's star-struck expression. “She’s still just a person Ellie.”

“Yeah but she’s like closer to your age isn’t she? The only old person I know how to talk to is you!”

This girl somehow finds a way to make him feel ancient every damn day.

“Just go talk to her Ellie, Star’s real sweet, no need to be scared of her, promise.” Tommy tried to offer his own encouragement which actually helped since it made her realize that she couldn’t let them think she was scared.

“M’not fucking scared,” she spit out before finally turning around to bulldoze her way through the crowd.

Joel sent a silent thank you Tommy’s way.

You had hopped off the stage and headed straight for the bar. “Can I have my special juice now Seth,” the man pretended to be cleaning a glass as you leaned over the counter.

“Didn’t hear my song yet,” he mumbled without laying eyes on you.

“You’ll get it after I take a break, you really gonna choose tonight to be an asshole to me?” He huffed before leaning down to grab your mason jar and sliding it in front of you along with a glass of water. You took both eagerly before letting out an exaggerated ‘thank you’, you downed the water before starting to twist off the mason jar lid. Before you could get it open though a shy, quiet voice let out a small ‘hi’ to your left.

You turned and saw an unfamiliar young girl, shifting side to side with nerves, arms clasped behind her back like she didn’t know what to do with them. “Well hi yourself, haven’t seen you around here,” you said, putting as much friendliness and sweetness into your voice as possible so the girl would hopefully feel at ease.

“Uh, yeah, we just got here a couple weeks ago.” You remember Maria telling you about the newcomers, one of them being Tommy’s brother, which must make this Ellie, the kid who was with him.

“Oh you must be Ellie then,” you finally took off the lid and held out your free hand to her in greeting. “Nice to finally meet you, my name’s Star.”

“Y-yeah I know,” she stammered out while shaking your hand in return. “Maria told me while we were watching you play, which uhm, you, you were awesome by the way.”

Oh my gosh, I wanna keep this girl in my pocket, you thought. “Yeah, you liked it?”

She was practically beaming at you. “Loved it, I’d never heard that first song you sang before, I mean I hadn’t heard any of them but holy shit you just…wow, like I didn’t know fingers could move like that.” Her own fingers wiggled in front of her like she was proving a point ‘see mine don’t do that.’

You couldn’t help but laugh, “well going your whole life without listening to Metallica should be a crime but I’m really glad you liked it.”

“Was that the name of the singer?” She was so eager, like she was ready to soak up every bit of information that she could get.

“No, that was the name of the band.”

“That’s a sick ass name.” Jeez you had said the same thing about them when you first started listening, you were probably around the same age as her then too.

“Oh, I agree, one hundred percent.” You remember being so mad at your mom for seeing them before you.

You took a sip of your drink before setting it back down, rings clinking against the glass. Ellie’s eyes followed your movements before sticking on the mason jar.

“Can I try some?” You almost choked on the drink that you were swallowing.

You tried to give her your best authoritative stare down, but you weren’t exactly the picture of good influence now were you. “And exactly how old are you?”

“Fourteen, almost fifteen.” She said it so firmly like ‘yes I am an adult, thank you for asking.’

“And just how much trouble would I get in if I gave you a sip?”

“I mean I won’t tell if you won’t,” she said slyly, oh this girl has some spunk.

You brought the drink up to your lips again, “hmm, well I’m only agreeing because I really don’t think you’ll like it. Besides, I had my first sip at twelve so I can’t say shit.” You brought the jar down towards your stomach where it was hidden by Ellie. She looked so excited and you couldn’t help the cheesy smile on your lips as she sneakily took the jar, quickly looking around before taking a small sip.

The disgust was immediate on her face and you couldn’t help but laugh as she handed it back. “Not for you huh?”

“Oh fuck…I mean I could learn to like it.”

It looked like she was ready to take another sip just to prove her point, so you slid the jar farther away. “Nah I don’t think so hun…honestly I don’t even like drinking that much, that’s why I’ve had this jar for a couple months now.” You closed the lid and handed it back to Seth who put it back in its special place. “So, you a big fan of music Ellie?”

“Huge…but I mean I haven’t listened to a lot you know, just what I could get my hands on, but yeah.”

She sounded almost embarrassed at the fact and with a bit of insight you realized that this sweet girl wanted to impress you, as if somehow your opinion actually mattered. You remember being her age trying to worm your way in with the older bleacher creatures, god you tried so hard to make yourself seem older, cooler, just so they’d let you hang out with them.

You hated kids when you were younger despite being one at some point yourself, obviously you don’t hate them anymore but kids just felt so much more complicated. So you really can’t explain the fierce protectiveness that came with meeting this girl. Maybe your age was finally getting to you, kicking up those motherly instincts that were apparently buried somewhere in there. If this new girl wanted a friend and was looking at you to be one, then dammit you’d be the best friend she could ever ask for.

Your head nodded in understanding at her lack of exposure, not as if there’s much access to music outside these walls. “What would you say is your favorite song then?”

She was so excited by your question. “Oooh I’ve got a few…I don’t know if you’ve heard of Take on Me, but that one definitely.”

“Are you kidding me, excellent choice Ellie, that’s a good one right there.”

“Thank you,” she said, ‘finally someone gets it,’ went unspoken. “Joel jokes and says I need better taste but I just think it’s cause he doesn't want to admit it’s the best song ever.” Ahhh Joel, that’s the name Maria had said.

Wanting confirmation, you asked, “Joel’s who you came here with right?”

“Yeah, he’s Tommy’s brother.”

Seth slapped his hand down on the bar a couple times across from you letting you know it was almost time to play again. You gave him a nod of acknowledgement before turning your attention back to Ellie. “Good to know, well I’ve gotta get back up there for a few more songs but you know I’ve got more records than I know what to do with. Some of them could definitely use another listen, if you’re interested of course.”

If her eyes could get any brighter it would be an impressive sight. “Wait, are you serious?”

“Of course, I mean we’d have to talk to your dad but yeah I’ve got no problem with that.”

“Oh he’s not my dad.” Interesting…but none of my business, you thought.

“Well regardless he should still know if he’s looking after ya.” Seth’s hand met the wood again, “guess that’s my cue, why don’t you come find me again afterwards, you can talk to Joel and I’ll introduce myself, be less of a stranger.”

She nodded her head,“awesome, yeah.”

“Awesome,” your tone mimicked hers, “I might be biased but I think you’ll really like the next couple of songs.”

“Can’t wait.” You gave her a small wave as she started to maneuver through the crowd back to her own table. Seth gave you an impatient look and you rolled your eyes back at him before heading back on stage.

Picking up your guitar you slid the strap over your shoulder, and slid the capo down a few frets. It’s been ages since you’ve played this new addition to your set so your fingers skimmed over the strings just to make sure you still had it somewhere in your head.

Nodding to yourself you looked up at the eager faces. “Hey everyone, I’ve got a few more for you tonight but this next one is a very special request, hope y’all enjoy.” There were a few drunken whoops from the crowd, which you smiled at. Glancing towards the back of the room you saw Ellie giving you an enthusiastic wave, she was flanked by Tommy and Maria to her left and who you now knew as Joel Miller on her right. You gave a quick wink at Ellie before plucking out the intro of her favorite song hoping that she would still appreciate an acoustic version.

When you looked at her again you couldn’t help the smile that crept into your singing. She was aggressively shaking Joel’s shoulder in excitement and the others at her table were laughing at her antics. As soon as your hands left the guitar you could hear her cheering louder than anybody else and couldn’t remember the last time warmth like this settled in your chest.

A few more requests and then it was down to your last song now. You always closed out with something from Journey’s Frontiers album, your moms request, one you always faithfully keep.

Your guitar was carefully placed down beside the piano as you took a seat at the bench. The keys of the piano were smooth beneath your fingertips, your foot a bit restless on the pedals. As it builds it’s almost like you can hear the instruments meant to accompany the songs. This was the only ballad that you never glanced out at the crowd during. Hoping they’ll fade away so you can feel her beside you. Most people never pay close enough attention to notice the stinging tears you hold back, but tonight someone was.

Joel saw, of course he did, he hadn’t been able to look away, no matter how many times he fought for his gaze to be elsewhere, it just kept drifting back to the stage. He never thought passion, peace or joy of this extent could still be found among people. Never thought something so simple as a song could bring so much happiness to Ellie, or so much sadness for the person singing it.

“Thanks for letting me play again tonight guys, I’ll see y’all at the next music night alright!” You called out to the residents, happily waving goodbye before walking off again. Your guitar was handed off to Seth for safe keeping as he passed you another glass of water. “Was that good enough for you Seth,” you asked after you took a few sips.

“It’ll do for now I suppose,” he replied, trying to hold back another smile.

You finished off your water with a hum while he went away to serve a few other patrons. Another elbow grazed yours on top of the bar. Looking over you saw Ellie leaning next to you in a similar pose to yours.

“You played my song!” She had the biggest grin on her face and all your worries about her not liking it faded away in an instant.

“Oh, is it your song now?”

She looked around the bar, “don’t see anybody else claiming it, but dude, you gotta teach me how to play that song! And you play the piano too! Wait, are you like some music genius or something? Do you play like everything?” The girl was going a mile a minute but you were eager to answer any and all questions she might have had.

“No definitely not, most I can play is guitar, piano and just a lil bit of drums,” you said, holding up your pinched fingers, leaving the tiniest of space to emphasize your point. “But as far as teaching you goes I wouldn’t mind. I’ve had a few of the younger kids say they want to learn but they always end up raiding my vinyl collection instead. It’d be nice to actually have someone who wants to learn.”

“Cool,” she was practically vibrating with excitement. “I talked to Joel about visiting tomorrow but he said he’d have to meet you first.” Her eyes rolled in annoyance and you smiled at the teenager's plight.

“It's what any good parent does, Ellie don’t think too hard on it,” your mom had been the same way. Though you will say you got told no more often than not since she wasn’t the biggest fan of your friends at the time but oh well. “How about I head over there and we can get awkward introductions out of the way, sound good.”

She was like a bobble head with how quickly she nodded, similar to how she was with Joel earlier she grabbed your hand and started pulling you through the crowd

There wasn’t a chance for you to introduce yourself before Ellie addressed the only stranger at the table. “Okay Joel you’ve met Star so now I can visit her place tomorrow right?” You shook your head at her version of an introduction and gently pulled your hand out of her grip before holding it out for a friendly handshake. Granted, the man on the receiving end had a very unfriendly tilt to his lips, not off to a great start, you thought.

“Nice to meet you Joel, name’s Star,” he still hasn’t reached out, why hasn’t he reached out?

“So I’ve heard,” god his voice, smokier than a bonfire with rough underused Texan charm. He was handsome, no gorgeous, you didn’t think men as pretty as him even existed anymore. Speaking of pretty he had the prettiest pair of eyes you’ve ever seen, a little sad but there’s a lot to be sad about these days. You were so lost in those sad eyes that you didn’t notice he’d finally taken your hand, even his hands are nice, wait, no, no, we’re not doing that. “Nice to meet you too, and uh, nice, really nice singing up there.”

You didn’t notice the odd look that Ellie was giving Joel so his behavior didn’t seem that strange to you from this first meeting. In your eyes, this was just a man who’d been on the outside of a safe circle for too long. “Well thank you very much, I’m glad y’all liked it.”

“You did a real good job up there Star, laying on the southern a bit thick with your covers aren’t ya.” Tommy spoke up beside Maria, now with him you saw the odd look he gave Joel but you still couldn’t understand what it was for.

“Just been listenin’ to you yap and copyin’ Miller,” you said while mimicking his twang. As if anyone could sing Brooks & Dunn without a bit of southern flair. Everyone laughed at your teasing except for the man whose hand was still being held in yours. Trying to not make it seem like you were yanking your hand away you slowly dropped the connection and leaned to rest an arm on Ellie’s shoulder. “Anyway I’ll let y’all get back to your evening, just wanted to stop by and introduce myself, make sure it’s alright for Ellie to come over for a visit tomorrow.” You addressed the last part of your sentence towards Joel, hoping you had made a decent enough first impression.

The thing is though, he really seemed to be debating on whether or not she could. Ellie must have given him a look when he glanced over to her because he sighed before giving a single nod. “S’fine by me, long as she’s back before dark.” You looked at Ellie who stared up at you, a silent conversation of ‘you think we can do that’, ‘yeah sure.’ The two of you gave a singular nod in return.

“Fine by me, we’re not gonna be doing much, I told her I’d show her a few of my records.”

“About time she learns what good music is.” Ellie let out a low embarrassed ‘dude’ at Joel’s snark. Oh to be a teenager embarrassed by their parents again.

“I was actually planning on showing her the worst ones in my collection so the jury might be out on that one.”

“Did you know Joel plays guitar too!” Ellie dropped that little bit of information, hoping it might fluster Joel in retribution.

“Oh really?” There weren’t a lot of musicians in Jackson so you were always happy to meet someone with the shared interest.

He quickly shook his head trying to brush away the attention that was now placed on him. One of his hands came up to rub against the back of his neck like he wasn’t sure what to do at the moment. “Nothing like what you were doing up there, it’s been ages, probably wouldn’t even know what to do if I picked one up again. Told Ellie I might be able to teach her but-”

“Oh Star actually said she does lessons.” He had no idea what compelled him to share so much or even talk as much as he did but there came that instant regret again. Well if she wants to learn from her I won’t stop her, probably a better teacher than I could be for anyway, he thought.

You wouldn’t have even noticed the brief flash of disappointment that Joel tried to mask if you hadn’t been stupidly staring at him. Nope, not good, not gonna cause a riff here.

“Well Ellie realistically I’ve only got one day where I could teach you” not true but what she doesn’t know won’t hurt her. “But if you’re determined to learn, I would take Joel up on those lessons, you only get better with practice after all.”

She was bummed by the news and you hoped that Joel didn’t think you were trying to overstep, but some things are just better left for a parent to teach. “Oh…kinda hard to do that without a guitar though.” Oh, is that what she’s upset about?

You brushed off her problem, “don’t worry about that, I’ve gotcha covered.”

“Really?”

“Really, really…” you noticed that the crowd had started to thin out, which you took as your cue to leave the table as well. “It’s been great talking to y’all but I gotta get back behind the bar and help Seth out. Joel, Ellie, lovely meeting you two, and I’ll see you tomorrow alright?”

“Cool, oh what time should I be over?”

“Anytime you want hun,” you silently begged that she wouldn’t be there at the ass crack of dawn. With what little you know about this girl you honestly wouldn’t put it past her. You gave a final wave to the group before heading to the bar to actually start working again.

After you left Tommy turned towards Joel like somebody had body snatched him. “Can’t remember anybody ever saying it was lovely to meet you brother.”

“Shut the fuck up Tommy,” he grumbled out before draining the contents of his glass. It was the truth though, lovely is not the word people would use when it came to being introduced to Joel Miller. Definitely not in the last twenty years, hell even in the years before if he was being honest.

“He’s got a point there,” Ellie remarked with a shit eating grin.

“Not you too kid-”

She held up her hands, “hey I’m just glad you managed a decent first impression, thought for sure you were gonna scare away my new best friend.”

“And you just had to pick someone three times your age to be your friend huh?” He no longer thought it was strange that she was so drawn to her, he understood, she was like a walking reminder of times gone by. Still, if Ellie was determined to have friend in you then what could he do? Hopefully shake off whatever odd, unwanted feelings you brought to the surface in him.

“Friends with you aren’t I?”

Well…she had him there.

A/N: Hi Everyone!!! Thanks so much for taking the time to read and indulge me in my Joel Miller obsession, it means a lot to me. Just a few quick notes for ya, moving forward there's no set update schedule but I'm hoping to update every two weeks as long as life doesn't get in the way. I also wouldn't say that this is entirely a song-fic as I don't like to include lyrics in my writing beyond a line or two, but I will be including 'Star's set list' at the end of chapters that need them. The reader is named Star, I know a lot of people don't like being surprised when the reader is named, but it works best for the story I'm writing. However, Star will be given little to no defining characteristics outside of the ones that are important for her character. Lastly, this fic is also over on AO3 if you'd rather read it over there. See y'all next time, happy reading! - Lee <3 Chapter Playlist: Nothing Else Matters - Metallica Brand New Man-Brooks and Dunn Don’t Know What You Got (Till It’s Gone)-Cinderella Take on Me- A-ha Blue Bayou- Linda Rondstatt (Seth’s Request) Dust in the Wind-Kansas Faithfully-Journey (Star’s Mom’s Request)

#joel miller tlou #joel miller fic #joel miller x reader #joel miller x original character #plus size reader #post cordyceps outbreak #slow burn(ish)#curvy reader #no use of y/n #reader is female #reader is 45 #eventual smut #joel needs a hug #found family #JOR TLOU

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grayandthyme · 1 month ago

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ain’t about bein’ good ;

synopsis: Joel teaches you to play. warnings/tags: fluff, soft, semi-established relationship though it doesn't mention what it is ♫ velvet ring - big thief

w.c 1.4

The guitar strings bit softly into the pads of your fingers—a sharpness unfamiliar yet oddly welcome.

Callouses, Joel had explained once, were the badges of those who played often, earned through persistence and pain. He made it sound heroic, in a way.

He bore them too, silent proof of his own dedication.

Not just from instrument. From guns. From hard work.

“Now, bring your middle finger back here,” he murmured, his hand settling over yours, warmth radiating through his touch. His voice rumbled low, steady—an anchor against the hesitant, fractured notes that spilled from the guitar. The melody was raw, unfinished, but there was something beautiful in its tentative progress.

“I don’t think I’m any good at this,” you sighed, tilting your head until it rested against his shoulder, seeking comfort in the closeness.

He shot you that look—brow furrowed, eyes sharp but patient. The one that said—girl, you haven't even tried.

“Seriously,” you laughed, more of a breath than a sound, shaking your head. “My fingers aren’t long enough for this.”

Joel didn’t say anything at first.

Just sat there behind you, solid and still, the weight of his arm lingering over yours, like he hadn’t quite decided whether to correct your form again or just leave you be.

His thumb brushed against the edge of your palm, a slow, absent drag—thoughtful, maybe even affectionate, though he’d never call it that.

“You don’t need long fingers,” he said finally, voice low, that Southern drawl curling slowly around each word, “You just need to want it bad enough.”

You huffed again, not out of frustration this time, but something softer.

Fondness, maybe. He always made it sound so simple. Like the ache in your hands and the awkward chord shapes didn’t matter, not really. Like the trying itself was enough.

“But you make it look easy,” you muttered, letting your gaze drop to the guitar resting across your lap. The strings still hummed faintly from the last awkward chord you'd tried to play, the sound already fading.

He leaned in a little, chin near your shoulder, close enough for you to feel the way his breath warmed the side of your neck. “Ain’t easy,” he said, “Just looks that way when you’ve been doin’ it a long time.”

You could hear the years in his voice when he said it.

All the nights he must’ve spent with an old guitar, callousing his fingers and pouring himself into something that didn't talk back.

Maybe that’s why he was so patient now. He knew what it took.

“I don’t like being bad at things,” you admitted, quiet. It slipped out without much ceremony, but he caught it anyway. Just a jest.

Joel grunted—his way of saying he heard you.

Maybe even understood.

“That why you gave me hell when I taught you how to shoot?” he asked, and you could hear the smirk in his voice even if you couldn’t see it.

You turned your head slightly, just enough to catch the corner of his mouth. He was smiling. Barely. But it was there.

“I gave you hell because you were bossy.”

“Mm.” He tilted his head, considering that, “Didn’t hear you complainin’ when you hit the bottle dead center.”

You laughed again, real this time, and Joel’s smile widened for a heartbeat before it slipped away like it always did—fast, almost shy. Like he didn’t trust it to stay.

Verbal silence settled between you again, but it wasn’t empty. It was the kind that wrapped around the two of you like a blanket. Comfortable. Familiar.

Your fingers brushed against the strings again, this time gentler. They still stung, but you didn’t flinch. Joel’s hand ghosted over yours, guiding your fingers back into place. Not forcing, just… reminding.

“Try again,” he said softly.

So you did. The chord came out cleaner this time—still not perfect, still clumsy, but not broken. Progress. He didn’t say anything, but his hand stayed right there, steady over yours. Grounding.

“See?” he murmured. “Told you. Ain’t about bein’ good.”

You turned your head again, this time far enough to look at him fully. He met your eyes, quiet and sure, and even though he didn’t say the words, you could feel them in the way he looked at you.

In the way he didn’t pull his hand away.

I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.

Joel wasn’t the type to fill silence with words. He didn’t need to. Everything he meant—everything he felt—was right there in the space between each note, in the warmth of his calloused fingers on yours, in the soft rhythm of his breathing behind your shoulder.

And maybe that was love. Not loud. Not easy. But there, all the same.

Steady as a song still being learned.

“Hey,” you chimed, nudging the neck of the guitar gently toward him with a grin, “C’mon. Play. I deserve it after my hard lesson.”

Joel’s eyes flicked from your face to the guitar, then back again.

His mouth twitched—something between a scoff and a smile.

The kind he tried to hide, like affection, was something he wasn’t allowed to show outright.

“You just wanna sit back and let me do all the work,” he muttered, shaking his head.

You tilted your head playfully, eyebrows raised, “That’s what teachers do, Joel.”

"They teach."

He made a sound in the back of his throat, somewhere between amusement and surrender. “Yeah, well… I didn’t sign up for no damn recital.”

You rolled your eyes, shifting in his lap as he took the guitar from you with that kind of reverence he always had when his hands were on it.

Like it was something sacred.

Like it had saved him once or twice—

It probably had—he owed it respect.

You settled back against his chest, your head fitting just beneath his chin, and waited.

Joel held the guitar for a moment without playing. His fingers hovered over the strings, still and uncertain. Like he wasn’t sure if this was something he wanted to give away just yet.

It was his own personal melodica, and now it belonged to both of you.

But then—softly—he started to strum.

The notes came slow, quiet.

Like he was whispering through the instrument. It wasn’t the kind of song you’d hear on the radio or one he’d brag about knowing. It was older. Worn-in.

Sad in a way that made your chest ache, but sweet, too.

You didn’t say a word.

Didn’t dare.

Because this wasn’t just him playing a song. It was him letting you in. And Joel Miller didn’t do that easily.

His voice joined the guitar after a few bars—low, gravelly, and tender in a way he probably didn’t mean it to be.

He's singing.

Not just about anything—but, seemingly about you.

About here. About Jackson.

He trailed off after that, the next chord lingering under his fingers like a thought he chose not to finish. His voice fell away, but the guitar kept going, a quiet hum beneath your heartbeat.

You swallowed, hard.

“That yours?”

Joel didn’t answer right away. He adjusted the tuning peg on one string, pretending to focus.

“Might be,” he said finally, like it didn’t matter. But his grip on the guitar tightened just a little,

“Just somethin’ that came to me one night.”

Like you.

You knew better than to push. If he wanted to tell you the rest of it, he would. But even what he’d given you already felt like more than you had any right to ask for.

You reached up, fingers curling loosely around his wrist where it rested on the body of the guitar. His skin was warm, rough beneath your touch, and he didn’t pull away.

“Y’know,” you said gently, “… you should sing more. Even if it’s just for me.”

He gave a low grunt—an automatic dismissal—but you could feel the way his chest rose beneath your back, the quiet pride hiding under all that resistance.

“I sing just fine when nobody’s listenin’.”

“I’m not nobody.”

Joel didn’t respond to that, not out loud. He didn’t need to.

Instead, he leaned down, pressing his mouth to the crown of your head in a kiss so light you might’ve missed it if you weren’t paying attention.

But you were. You always were, when it came to him.

The hum faded. His fingers stilled. And for a long moment, you both just sat there, the silence stretching comfortably between you.

His arms came around you loosely, guitar forgotten for now, and he held you the same way he’d played—quiet, steady, and full of things he didn’t know how to say.

You closed your eyes, listening to the sound of his heartbeat behind you.

That was the real song, wasn't it?

authors note: woaaahhh i love. canon. soft joel.

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alltheirdamn · 1 year ago

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Give Me Tonight | Joel x f!reader

Summary: Joel has to leave. Rating: 18+ Word Count: 2k Warnings: a fuck ton of angst (sorry) A/N: This is a tiny one-shot for the lovely @janaispunk and their 1500 Kisses Challenge ... Thank you for giving me the inspiration and the ability to celebrate your milestone!! xoxo

Masterlist | Ko-Fi

Things between you and Joel were strictly physical. You fulfilled each other's needs and parted ways at the night's end, no questions asked—no kisses exchanged. That was an unspoken rule both of you had decided: you didn’t kiss. Kissing was romantic. Emotionally charged, if you wanted to be more specific. Nothing about your relationship with Joel was emotional; you were okay with that. For the most part, at least.

There were times, however, when Joel had his body pressed against you that you so desperately yearned for his lips on yours. When his face twisted up in pleasure, and the beads of sweat rolled down the curve of his nose…that is when you wanted to kiss him the most. Amidst the carnal need driving the force of his endeavors, you noticed a hint of softness in his eyes. It was most prominent when the moon crested over the sky and you were saying your goodbyes. Joel lingered a few moments too long at the door when you turned to leave, almost hesitant to see you go. If he asked you to stay, the answer would always be yes.

But the question never came, and the answer was never given.

One night in particular, much later than expected, Joel showed up at your small apartment. Given the circumstances within the Boston QZ, it was run down and rather barren, which is why you favored Joel’s place over yours. You could only count a handful of times Joel appeared at your place, and that night had been a shock. After a sharp knock on your door, you opened it wearily, scared it was to be a band of raiders coming after you. God knows it was bound to happen at some point. But luck was in your favor, and your time hadn’t run out. Joel stood before you, a plain denim button-up stretched across his sturdy frame and his hair disheveled.

“What are you doing here?” You asked. There was something unreadable in his eyes, a swirling emotion swimming in the chocolate pools you hadn’t seen before.

“Can I come in?” He asked.

He was halfway over the threshold before he asked the question, inviting himself in like any other time. You closed the door soundly, following him into the living room—if you could call it that. There was only one dingy sofa against the wall, along with a half-broken coffee table and a radio that sat near the window. Joel stood in the middle of the room, his hands shoved deep into his pockets.

“Joel,” you cautioned. “What is it?”

“I’m leavin’ tomorrow.”

He didn’t even turn to look at you as he said the words—three words shaped into a weighted knife that slid right between your ribs. You couldn’t articulate why it hurt, but it did. It was the end of whatever this was between you, the end of warming each other's beds, and the constant need to fill a void left inside both of you. Joel wasn’t a man of many words, but you knew the grief he harbored from losing his daughter twenty years ago. You had lost people you loved over the years, as well, and you craved the connection only Joel could give you.

“Leaving where?” You asked.

“Marlene’s asked me to do somethin’.”

“Are you going to tell me what she’s asked you to do?”

Finally, he turned to you, an amalgamation of emotions swimming across his features. You’d never seen him so conflicted, as though the weight of the world balanced on his shoulders. Whatever Marlene was asking of him, the price must be high. Joel wasn’t one to give his help freely, yet here he was, tormented by a nameless job he could not reveal.

“I can’t,” he admitted.

Static buzzed between your bodies, a teether vibrating in the wavelengths of denial that neither of you sought to unfurl. Too many nights had you spent under his body, mapping the constellation of scars that marred his skin. He could argue it all he wanted, but Joel had also memorized yours. The deep understanding of each other's bodies had become something rooted further than just physical. You couldn’t hide from that truth, nor could he.

“When will you be back?” You asked.

You saw the answer so plainly on his face: the clench of his jaw, the averting of his gaze. He didn’t know. Or worse, he knew and didn’t want to say. Saying it aloud meant it was real.

“I only came to say goodbye.”

“Oh.”

What else could you say? Truthfully, you didn’t want to say anything at all. You wanted to stay in this moment and savor the time you had left. Even if it meant standing feet apart and staring at each other helplessly. He’d go, and you’d stay. You had no place in his life, only the purpose of warming his bed and giving him release.

“You didn’t have to,” you offered. “I would’ve figured out you were gone. You don’t owe me anything.”

“That ain’t fair to you. Y’deserve a goodbye.”

You looked down at your hands, your nails digging into the skin of your palms. You weren’t used to Joel speaking so much, let alone in such a solemn way.

“And I wanted to see you,” he added. “Just one more time.”

Under the weight of your eyelashes, you tracked the shadow of his body growing closer. He would swallow you whole if you let him—and you would. Whatever emotion this was that you refused to acknowledge, it had latched itself so tightly to Joel you feared it would never come undone. You’d live your days without seeing him again and learn to be okay with it. You survived this long with the loss of your loved ones; you could do it again.

“You’ll be okay, right?”

You lifted your head, though you were afraid of the truth staring right at you. He nodded, but you saw through it. He was lying.

“I don’t—.” You swallowed your words. Try again. “I don’t know what to say.”

Joel stepped forward, his calloused and rough hands molding around your face. Never once had he touched you so carefully—never had you realized how desperately you ached for it. He tipped your face up, your eyes steady on his.

“Then let’s not say anythin’,” he whispered.

You stared, wide-eyed, as Joel dipped his head towards yours. A slight tilt, an exhaled breath, and his lips were colliding with yours. You froze under his touch, letting the movement of his lips on yours guide you through your uncertainty. You didn’t trust yourself not to fall apart in his arms. If you cracked under the weight of your emotions, would he catch you?

Joel’s fingers flexed around your cheekbones, coaxing you silently to give way to your control. Keeping your distance would at least save you the massive heartbreak in the end, but he was gifting you this one moment. Why would you deny yourself that?

Parting your lips, you welcomed Joel’s tongue into your mouth. A slow, languid kiss that deepened every time your lips met. You melted into one another, consumed by a heavy grief that wrapped around your bodies. It was just you and Joel, locked in each other's embrace while the world tore itself apart around you. Your trembling fingers worked at the buttons of his shirt, fumbling over each as they popped open. Joel’s hand came to rest on yours, halting your exploration.

“Not tonight,” he muttered, breaking from your mouth.

Crestfallen, you pulled away. What were you without your body? That’s what Joel wanted, wasn’t it? It was all you had left to give, and even at that moment, he turned you down. Joel curled a finger under your chin, tipping your face up until you swam within the stormy chocolate waves inside his eyes.

“I just want this,” Joel confessed. “Just give me this. It’s all I need tonight.”

Words failed. They evaded you, though you searched for them and came up empty. Joel took your silence as an invitation to continue his feverish search for solace upon your lips. A broken cry stifled your breathing as you let Joel slip his tongue over yours. Tender strokes overlapping with pitying cries, you resolved to nothing but a heap of devastation.

Joel tangled a strong hand in the tendrils of your hair, guiding your head in whichever way he chose fit. Control fell to the wayside, and you allowed him to overtake the moment. Whatever he wanted, you’d give him. He could ask you to break apart your ribs and rip out your heart, and you’d ask him for his hand to hold it.

This kiss was your undoing.

“Joel,” you whispered.

“Hmm?”

“Promise me you’ll come back.”

He pried away from your swollen lips and rested his forehead against yours. You looked up through tear-drenched eyelashes to see the crease between his brow furrowing deeper. He carried so much pain in his expression.

“I can’t make promises like that.”

Honey-sweet tones of his voice were replaced by an emotionless staccato—a monotone-sounding blade slicing through all hopes you harbored inside your chest.

“Stay with me,” you pleaded. “Just for the night.”

“I can’t.”

“Can’t or won’t?” You argued.

“It’s better if we leave it like this.”

Joel broke from the cocoon of denial you both had built, the walls tearing down and crumbling around your feet. He strode toward the door, his fists clenched and his back hunched with tension.

“Joel!” You called out.

Your body moved on its own accord, crashing into his large frame the second he twisted around at the sound of your voice. He wrangled you into his arms, hauling your body up until your legs strained to wrap around his hips. His hands found their place against your body, one gripping the back of your neck, the other pressed to the base of your spine.

Joel brushed his nose against yours, his eyes drifting shut as he inhaled your aroma. You tempted him into a soft kiss, a subtle coax of your lips hovering over his.

“Kiss me goodnight, Joel,” you whispered, your words spoken over the curve of his mouth. “Kiss me goodnight and give me hope there will be more. I can’t accept that this is it.”

“I can’t give you hope,” he lamented, his mouth moving against your skin.

“Then give me tonight.”

Joel crushed his lips against yours, a ferocity awakening inside him that hadn’t been there all night. You shaped yourself into his form, arching into every hard ridge of his body; no space between you was left unfilled. Joel’s fingers flexed around the curve of your neck, his hand sliding over its shape until his palm rested against your throat. The familiarity of his possessiveness sprung into place, a simple reminder of what you meant to him.

Whatever that may be.

The room spun around you as Joel walked you both toward your bed. He laid you out gently, piecing apart your clothes until you were bare beneath him. His clothes followed, and you returned to his heavy embrace once again.

He took you slowly, every thrust and moan shared between you becoming the only noise inside your small apartment. Terminal moments faded away into the late hours until you both lay side by side in morbid silence. You expected Joel to leave when he finished, yet his body stayed glued to the bed.

Rolling onto your side, you traced a path down his arm, allowing your brain to catalog every inch of his skin and the marks he bore. Years of pain ingrained themselves into his body, and he would collect so many more as time passed. Time that did not include you.

Joel eventually turned his head in your direction, his tired eyes barely holding their weight. You hummed softly, hoping to guide him to sleep. Reaching for his hand, you lifted it to your mouth and kissed each of his fingers, tears rolling down your cheeks as you made your way over each knuckle.

“Goodnight, Joel,” you whispered.

You stirred awake, turning over to see the dent in the mattress beside you.

He was gone.

Joel wasn’t coming back.

#joel miller fanfic #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x reader #joel x reader #joel x f!reader #joel miller #post outbreak joel #tlou #joel miller one shot #1500 kisses challenge #angst angst angst

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sugarcoated-lame · 2 years ago

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Wake Up Call

Joel Miller x Female Reader

pre-outbreak Joel x reader

All of my works are 18+ minors dni!

Rating: Explicit

Summary: Joel knows you’re not a morning person, so he often loves to help you wake up in way that you’ll both enjoy.

slow, sleepy morning smut with Joel :)

WC: 3200

Warnings: i’m terrible at titles and summaries i know, this is basically just smut (18+), established relationship, fluff, cuddly joel, smut, somnophilia (kinda?), oral (f receiving), fingering, unprotected piv, creampie, biting ? (joel bites reader’s shoulder once), a hint of overstimulation, use of a few pet names (sweetheart, darlin’, baby), no use of y/n or description of reader’s physical appearance, moodboard is not indicative of reader’s appearance, joel’s morning voice and joel saying “good girl” in said morning voice deserve a warning. let me know if there’s any I missed! x

a/n: this was my first time writing an actual fic for Joel, so please be nice <3 this was based on some thots that I wrote for an ask that my beloved @sebsxphia sent me 🧡 this was so self-indulgent and I had such a fun time writing it and making the moodboard, I hope y’all enjoy reading!! happy reading, comments and feedback are greatly appreciated 🧡

Joel Masterlist | Main Masterlist

•

It’s a Monday morning like any other. The sun is still rising in the sky, languidly illuminating the world in its hazy golden glow, and you find yourself waking up the same way you do most mornings as of late.

Eyes slowly blinking open to the steadily brightening light that’s begun to make its way through the too-sheer curtains that cover Joel’s bedroom window, a broad chest pressed to your back, and soft breaths blown into the crook of your neck and moving a few strands of your hair along with them.

A strong arm is wrapped around your middle; one big palm splayed across the skin of your belly beneath your—his— t-shirt while the other rests underneath your pillow.

You’re growing used to waking up to Joel’s warmth radiating through you with all the nights you spend in his bed these days, his legs entangled with yours beneath the blankets that had been kicked further down the bed in the night, the extra warmth not needed when you’re completely encapsulated by the furnace that is Joel.

It’s still early as the two of you begin to stir, a while yet before either one of your alarms are set to go off and pull you from the comfort of each other’s embrace and Joel’s plush bed, and into readying yourselves for the upcoming workday.

The arm around your waist tightens as you slowly begin to wake. Joel burrows further into the crook of your neck, scruffy beard tickling at the skin of your shoulder where his shirt has fallen loose in your sleep, the action one that’s grown to be of great comfort for you.

Joel’s always been an early riser. All the nights spent together over the months that you’ve been together now, he’s always woken up before you.

He has an alarm clock, but you never understand why he bothers to set it in the first place. His internal clock is always waking him up naturally as the sun comes up, and approximately thirty minutes before Sarah wakes up for school.

Not that you’re complaining, though, because you’ve come to appreciate the slow and natural way you wake up with Joel.

His flurry of kisses to any patch of bare skin he can find, and the warmth of his broad chest pressed against your back always wake you up gently. It’s a routine you’ve come to love, miles better than any loud alarm.

Though Joel can never seem to sleep later than the sun, he loves it because it means he gets to spend a few extra moments just admiring your peacefully sleeping form.

He knows you’re not a morning person, that you love your sleep and hate nothing more than to be woken up by the shrill ringing on an alarm.

So, another benefit of Joel waking up before you is that he gets to wake you up slowly, gently, snuggling into you and littering your skin with kisses that he knows will bring about that sleepy smile that he loves so much as you begin to stir.

Joel’s morning voice is gruff and somehow even deeper than it already is normally as he turns to nuzzle his nose into your neck, pressing a feather soft kiss to the skin just below your ear.

“Mornin’ sweetheart. How’d you sleep?”

In your still half-asleep state, you just barely grace him with a sleepy hum of acknowledgement before pressing your body back against his, cuddling further into his warmth and beginning to drift off again, not quite ready to wake up yet.

Since Joel knows that getting up early is not even close to your favorite thing to do, he often loves to wake you in a way that he knows you’ll both enjoy.

So, it’s no surprise to you when you begin to be pulled further from your slumber by the feeling of his arms retreating from around you, the loss of the comforting heat of his body against yours causing the tiniest of whimpers to escape your lips.

Joel smirks—though he knows you can’t see it through your still-closed eyes—those strong arms turning you onto your back before his body is sliding further down the bed.

Before you know it, gentle kisses are being pressed to your knees, leading a trail up to your inner thighs, the wiry hairs of his beard scratching lightly against your skin as he makes his way up towards where your panty-covered core has already begun to flutter in anticipation.

Calloused palms reach under your thighs and they’re no sooner being parted by the width of Joel’s broad shoulders, his plush lips pecking along the skin where your thigh meets your hip. Languidly making their way up to your hip bones, dotting a sweet kiss to both before descending.

Nosing along the cotton of your underwear, Joel sends a shudder through your entire body when he brushes over the damp spot that’s begun to darken the fabric.

Taking in your heady scent with a groan, his lips press a single kiss there before the warmth of his tongue laves against your seam through the thin fabric and pulls another sleepy whine from your parted lips.

Joel’s rough fingers dip under the waistband as he reaches up to pull them down your thighs, letting out a low groan as he slowly reveals your core, all pretty and glistening just for him.

You’re still not fully awake when he licks into you. His tongue white hot as it licks a broad stripe up to your clit, mixed with the pleasant burn of his facial hair scraping against the soft skin of your inner thighs, has your hips bucking against his mouth and quiet whimpers leaving your lips even in your still-sleepy state. Joel can’t help but growl at the taste of you.

His strong arms wrap around your thighs to hold you in place, to keep you open wide for him as he fucks you with his tongue, and it’s only when he sucks your sensitive bundle of nerves between those plush lips that you fully awaken on a broken cry.

With your eyes squeezed shut now from pleasure, one of your hands reaches down blindly into his soft, sleep-mussed curls as his tongue swirls around your clit in firm, tight circles.

You’re already getting close to reaching your high when your eyes finally open and you peer down to see Joel.

The bottom half of his face is slightly obscured under the covers as he makes his way back down to your entrance—the tip of his nose brushing against your clit and rendering you dizzy while his tongue laps up the gush of arousal there, and those deep, chocolate eyes boring into your sleep-hazy ones as one hand leaves your thigh so that one of his thick fingers can join his tongue.

Joel turns to press a kiss to your inner thigh, and you can feel his slight smirk against your skin along with the tickle of his beard as he murmurs a quiet “Mornin’, baby.”

The deep, raspy drawl of his morning voice has you clenching down around his finger as it pushes into you, pulling a breathy whine from you as your own fingers tighten their hold in his hair, and you’re barely able to get out a shaky good morning back to him.

In the tranquil, early morning quiet of Joel’s bedroom, you both can hear just how wet you are for him. The deep groan he lets out mixes with your breathless cries as you both listen to the squelch of his digit sliding in and out of you.

“Ya hear that?” Joel’s lips press again to your inner thigh. “So wet for me, darlin’. Were you dreaming of me?”

It’s all you can do in your hazy state to let out a hum of agreement and nod, not trusting your voice as his words and his thick finger pull you closer to that edge.

Joel’s cheek still rests along the smooth skin of your thigh as he turns his gaze upward to watch your face while his finger continues its ministrations. He nearly growls at the sight—your head thrown back and hair spread messily across his pillows. Brows furrowed and eyes clenched shut in pleasure, your perfect lips parted and letting out the prettiest sounds as he works you over.

“Joel— fuck.” You can’t help the desperate moan that escapes your parted lips as Joel adds in a second finger and crooks them just right. Turning your face into the pillows to quiet the sound—his daughter is still sleeping right down the hall, after all—your hips buck toward him of their own volition and push his fingers even deeper as they prod against that spongy spot inside you that has you seeing stars.

“Doing so good for me, baby.’ Joel praises with one last peck to your thigh, before he turns his head to press a lingering kiss to your swollen clit that sends a jolt up your spine.

Then, he’s trailing back down toward your entrance, drawing another gasp from you as the tip of his nose just barely grazes your clit. You can’t help but whine at the loss of his fingers as Joel pulls them from your core, your walls clenching around nothing for only a moment before the warmth of his tongue takes their place.

Joel laps up some of your wetness with a groan that sends shockwaves through your core before his tongue presses back into you. The warm, wet muscle glides through your walls, in and out, and you find yourself whimpering in frustration at the feeling—oh so good, but not quite full enough.

It’s enough to have your hands relinquishing their hold on his locks and scrambling to pull him up the bed by his shoulders and begging him to fuck you.

“Joel, please. Need you now, baby!” Your voice sounds breathless and borderline frantic, and Joel can’t help but feel a little pride in just how worked up you get for him.

“Need—”

He cuts off your desperate pleas with a bruising kiss, pulling a needy sound from deep in your throat at the taste of yourself on his lips as they meet yours.

Joel parts from you to glance at the clock on his nightstand. He knows you’ve probably got about twenty minutes now before you each have to get ready for your respective days—before Sarah wakes up for school, and she’ll be knocking on his door to make sure that he’s up and ready to take her there before he heads to work.

Plenty of time to give you what you need.

Joel takes a moment to admire your features—pretty eyes still bleary from sleep, bottom lip swollen from his kiss and from being bitten between your teeth as you tried to keep your moans quiet. Chest heaving slightly in anticipation, nipples pebbled underneath the loose fabric of his t-shirt as you wait for him to make the next move.

He leans in to give you one more lingering kiss, his tongue parting your lips and meeting yours in a languid swirl that leaves you feeling dizzy when he pulls away.

Joel shifts back onto his knees, and you have half a mind to protest him being so far from you before his hands are meeting your hips.

“Turn over, baby.” He instructs you softly, those strong hands moving you with a surprising gentleness as he guides you to lay on your stomach.

You lie with your cheek pressed to the pillow, fingers digging into the sheets underneath it, your body tingling with anticipation as you wait for him to touch you.

Joel hastily removes his boxers, biting back a deep groan as he gives his already-throbbing length that’s been neglected until now a few firm strokes, spreading the precum that’s pearling at the tip as he watches your thighs clench with need.

You feel the calloused palms of his hands begin to trail the back of your thighs, and up slowly over your ass, fingers pushing up the hem of his much too-big t-shirt that you wore to bed along with them and making you shiver as they expose the smooth planes of your back.

Joel’s hands slide back down to part your thighs and make room for him, lifting your hips just slightly, and then he’s positioning himself over you.

With his broad chest pressed to your back once again and your spread thighs bracketing his, he reaches down to run his cock through your folds, gathering up your slick and pulling sharp gasps from you both as his tip bumps against your clit, before he notches himself against your entrance.

His body is a comforting weight against your back, the both of you letting out simultaneous sounds of pleasure and relief as Joel pushes into you slowly. His face rests in the crook of your neck and he groans at the way your tight, wet walls envelope him just right, the muscles already clenching around him as he waits to move.

Hips pressed to your ass while he gives you a moment to adjust to his length, Joel revels in the way you whine at the fullness of him. It’s always a stretch to accommodate his size, but you always take him so well.

“Mm—move, Joel. Please, baby.”

Your words and your hips attempting to buck back against him under his weight are enough for Joel to start moving, arms bracing beside you as he pulls his own hips back, slamming back into you in one quick thrust.

“Fuck!” You bury your face in the pillows to muffle your moans as Joel begins a steady pace.

All of your senses are completely surrounded by him—his scent on the silky fabric of his pillowcase, the hairs of his beard scratching at the column of your neck as he quietly grunts and moans into your ear, the weight of his strong body pressing you into the sheets as his cock fills you up and quickly pulls you back toward the edge of that cliff, more than ready to fall off.

Joel’s lips begin a trail of kisses all along your neck and up to your ear so he can whisper directly into it, that deep drawl of his eliciting a downright sinful mewl from your lips.

“So good for me, sweetheart. Always feel so good.”

His praise has your walls clamping down around him tighter as Joel fucks you slow and deep into the mattress. Both his words and his hips stuttering as he drives into you, bringing you both closer and closer to your highs every time his length prods against that spot inside you that makes you feel like you’re going to come undone.

“So, fuck—fuckin’ tight.” Joel groans as he buries his nose in your hair.

One of his large hands reaches out to cover one of your own that’s still tightly gripping the sheets, the other snaking its way beneath your body to find your clit and you shudder underneath him as the speed of his thrusts begins to quicken.

Face still buried in the pillows, your desperate cries of Joel’s name are muffled as he works you closer to the edge. The feeling of his cock dragging through your slick walls and filling you oh so deep, and the rough pads of his fingers circling your clit, leave your mind feeling hazy—and not because you’re still sleepy.

Joel can tell that you’re close from the way that your moans have shifted into breathless, broken cries, your cunt clamping down around his cock in a vice-like grip that’s driving him to the brink right along with you.

“Such a good girl for me,” He pauses to press a gentle kiss just behind your ear before he continues. “Need ya to come, baby.”

Joel’s words of encouragement, along with his deft fingers speeding up in their assault on your clit, have you falling over the edge with a sob of his name.

“Good girl.” He mutters close to your ear as his hips continue to piston against your backside, fingers still rubbing your clit and leaving you a writhing mess underneath him.

Your loud cries are softened as you bite down on the pillow below you when the pleasure borders on overstimulation. You feel so full as Joel continues to fuck you nice and deep, working you through your orgasm as he begins chasing his own.

With your release soaking his cock, and the velvety walls of your cunt practically strangling his length, his hips begin to falter in their rhythm and it’s only a few more thrusts before Joel reaches his peak.

Pressing impossibly deeper into you, he leans in to bite down on your shoulder through the fabric of your t-shirt to muffle his moans as he coats your spasming walls with his cum.

Joel’s deep, throaty moans mix with your softer sighs as his hips gradually come to a stop, still buried deep inside you as his fingers leave your oversensitive bundle of nerves, hand now retreating from beneath you as he lets his weight slump against you for just a moment.

With a few more kisses to the side of your head, Joel makes his way back down to your neck, and then to your shoulder where his lips press tenderly to where he knows is probably now a bite mark under your shirt, before he slowly pulls out of you.

The weight of him leaves you as he moves back onto his knees on the mattress, taking a moment to admire the mess of you both between your legs.

Joel then reaches for the box of tissues on his nightstand, grabbing a few to clean up the mix of your releases that’s begun to leak out of your core, tossing them into the trash can beside his bed and moving to turn you onto your back.

Body pliant and sated, and practically melting into the mattress, Joel can’t help but chuckle at you as leans down to meet your lips in a kiss so sweet it has you sighing against him.

It’s only a few moments after you’ve finished, after he lays back down on the bed and pulls you onto his bare chest, that the alarm goes off with the shrill signal that it’s time to start the day.

With a groan, you look up from your spot lying against Joel’s chest to see him already gazing down at you, a small smirk lifting the corner of his lips as he reaches a hand up to run through your hair.

“Guess it’s time to wake up, sweetheart.”

With a dramatic roll of your eyes, your head flops back down onto his pec with another huff of disagreement and the two of you share a breathless laugh before Joel moves to shut off the alarm.

And, though you won’t admit it, you definitely wouldn’t mind an early wake-up call if you got to wake up like this every morning.

•

Aaaaah thank you for reading!! Don’t hesitate to leave a comment or reblog if you enjoyed! x

tagging everyone who reblogged the original post that this was based on 🧡 : @seitmai @givemeth @lumoverheaven @fangirlbang @onceupona-happilyeverafterlove @regalwhovianbrowncoat774 @twoheartscanyon @sunblchdfly @caffeinated-idiot @fandomimagines2023

and a few others moots who i think may be interested 🫶🏼 : @softiedingo @joelsgreys @gasolinerainbowreads @thepascalofus @ilovepedro

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mermaidgirl30 · 1 year ago

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✨Tear You Apart Part 1: You’re Mine✨

Series Masterlist

My first dark! Joel fic and I think I’m obsessed. I plunged into this head on and got major inspiration from the vampire scene in Saltburn and Little Red Riding Hood. This is filthy and I absolutely love it! There might be a part 2 for this! Comments and reblogs are always appreciated. I would love to hear your thoughts 🖤

“The wolves prey upon the lambs in the darkness of the night, but the blood stains remain upon the stones in the valley until the dawn comes, and the sun reveals the crime to all.” - Kahlil Gibran

- Summary: Joel comes for you late at night. He always does. Always stalks, chases, and prowls after you like a starving wolf. And when he catches you, he devours you, feeds on you like the animal he is. Will you run and hide or will you give into the temptation that calls you in the forest?

- Rating: Explicit (18+ ONLY MDNI)

- Word Count: 9,718

- Tags: Dark themes, Little red riding hood references, dark! Joel, Joel is a menace, oral, fingering, choking, unprotected P in V, cream pie, filthy smut, degrading actions, not really violent but lots of dark themes, manipulation, rough sex, dirty talk, Joel calls reader little lamb, possessive Joel, feral! Joel, post outbreak! Joel, controlling Joel, dom! Joel, submissive reader, Joel x fem! reader, Joel is in his late 40’s and reader is in her late 20’s

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

Songs: “Change” and “Rosemary” by Deftones

The wind tears through the frigid night of Jackson, banging its haunted whispers against the side of the little wooden house. It screams in warning beware, beware. He’s coming. A glaring caution sign from the ghosts of the forest. They scream your name, shrieking and bellowing from the soil below as they make their way above the cold, vacant dirt, floating their way to your doorstep. Clawing, knocking, warning you that he’s close. Get out, leave. He’s near, he’s near. Run.

You want to run, want to sprint out of bed and run as far as you can, but you can’t. He’ll find you, stalk you till he hunts down your scent and discovers you hiding. You pray that he won’t, but he will. He always finds you. And when he does he takes and takes until you have nothing left, feeding his anger and bitter soul, using your body to escape whatever hell he had been through in the past.

You know he’s lost something special, something close to him. You can see it in the wrinkles that encase his forehead. See it in the dark brown flecks of his tired eyes. See it in the way he carries himself, worn and tattered like the old leather boots on his feet. Can feel it when he crowds your body as he lays over you in the middle of the night. Can feel it on his calloused fingers as he bleeds you dry from the inside, hollowing you out and sucking your lifeless soul and taking it as his own.

You never know what he’s lost, can never figure out what it was that was stolen from him. He doesn’t talk about it, will never let you in even though you beg him to. But you can feel the pain, the absolute agony that holds close to his cold heart. It’s whatever he’s lost that drives his rage, his desire for retribution. And it’s that loss that feeds his desire to take, destroy everything in his winding path. That’s why he comes, always at night, always at the dead blackness of night. He comes crawling to you, needing a way to soothe his scorching temper, needing a way to bury the agony of it all.

He’s broken, just like the shattered black military watch he wears on his left wrist. You try to ask him about it, try to graze your fingers over the broken glass, but he growls at you. Gnashing his sharp teeth as he releases the caged up wolf inside him. You know better, but you push back. Let me in, let me in, you scream. But he never does. That just pushes him further, bringing out the beast from within.

He’s coming closer. Almost here, almost here, the ghosts whisper in warning. You can feel him, as if he was already there at your doorstep, as if he was already clawing his fingers into your fragile skin. Tearing you apart piece by piece just the way he likes it.

Your body starts sweating, you toss and turn against the cold sheets that cling to your damp skin. He’s coming, they call. And it’s then that you can feel him as if he’s standing right outside. You can feel the weight of his steps on the cold, snowy ground. You can hear his shaky, quivering breaths as he trudges through the patches of white snow, can feel the warm breath as he blows it out, can reach your shaky fingers out as his breath kisses the sky. You can feel it, can almost taste it as it whips through the wind, landing up against your fogged up bedroom window.

Run. Hide. He’s here, he’s here, the voices warn. But you don’t listen, can’t listen. Joel’s deep voice washes the voices out, makes them flee from your mind. Mine, mine, he screams in your head as he claims you over and over again with his hands. Those big, rough hands that you so desperately want wrapped around you.

You shouldn’t want it, shouldn’t desire it, but you crave him like you’ve never craved anything in your life. He’s like a disease. Festering and invading your body, making you sick with want, with need. Pulling at your insides so much that you can’t ignore it. Can’t ignore the deep ache in between your thighs as you yearn for his touch, for his entire being. And you’re certain that you’re just as fucked in the head as him now.

He makes you sick. Sick with need, with desire. You shouldn’t crave him, shouldn’t want this. Most days he’s unkind, barely speaking, barely able to tolerate his own self. But he gives as much as he takes, and you crave the way he gives. And now you’re just as bad as him, just as selfish and needing as him. Mine, mine, you call in your mind. He’s yours just as much as you are his.

Your eyes open wide as you look at the small clock that hangs on the wall, the hand ticking and ticking as it reaches 1:00am, the time he usually comes after his late night watch shift. Your body quakes from the anticipation of him. You can hear him now. He’s here.

You feel the weight of his heavy feet against the wooden floorboards as he opens the front door, hearing it shriek as it closes behind him with a soft shutter as it knocks against the glass window. He’s coming, he’s coming.

You hear the narrow stairs creak as he climbs up the steep steps. He’s coming for you, coming to claim you, to devour you. He’s like a wolf in the night as he stalks his prey. His dark eyes search for you, your scent hanging in the air as he comes for it, chases it, wanting to taste it. Wanting to rip you to shreds under the weight of his body as he claws and pounces on you. Claiming you as his one and only as he dominates you. But you fully oblige, always surrendering yourself to him completely.

You’re little red riding hood, and he’s the big bad wolf that wants to eat you alive as you spill yourself for him, letting him mark his paws all over you until you can only see the blacks of his eyes as he claims you. My, what large eyes you have. But he’s talking to you as he’s in between your legs, lapping up your flavor as he looks up at you with those dark pits and smiles with his sharp canines glistening in the night. And God, you’re already wet thinking about it, already trembling in the sheets as you wait for him, waiting for him to completely ravage you and destroy you until you’re no more.

You want to touch yourself, want to put an end to that aching throb in your center as slick pools inside you, fighting hard to hold back the urge. He’ll be mad if you don’t wait for him. If he sees you fingering yourself before he gets to you, he’ll be furious. He’s selfish, always so fucking selfish with you. He wants to be the one that makes you feel good, under his conditions. He’s dominating, controlling, wanting your orgasms to come from him and him alone. He’s greedy, but he always gives, feeding into your sweet desires as he revels in your body, in your arousal, in your taste.

You hear the rusty doorknob twist and turn under his grasp, hear the door start to creak open as his dark form clouds against the darkness of the hallway. Take me, take me, you beg in your mind. And you swear he can hear you as he stalks towards you with his massive form.

He’s tired, you can see it in his weathered stare as his dark eyes search for you under the silky sheets. He throws off his tan, heavy coat and tosses it to the side of the room. As he makes his way to you, he pushes up his plaid, green sleeves slowly, exposing thick veins that spiral down his arms, ending in his massive hands. You gulp at the sight, taking in the way his arms flex against his sleeves. They pull and tug so tight that they’re bound to rip at any moment as his bulging muscles encase your nimble body.

He stops at the end of the bed, pulling back the clean sheets as he takes in the sheer nightgown you’re in. His eyes trail over your body as his deep scowl turns into something primal, dominant. “Get up,” he demands as he yanks you up by the wrist and pulls you to a standing position. There’s never such a thing as a hello or hi, beautiful. Only ever demands and commands as he comes for one thing, your body.

He pulls up the wooden chair that sits in the corner of the dark room and places it in the middle of the floor. He looks up at you with the darks of his eyes and curls his index finger, coaxing you to sit in the chair. Your body is hypnotized as you dance your way over to him under a waning spell that puts you at ease.

“Sit,” he says firmly as he pushes you down gently, your back hitting the hard wood as you sit up straighter, preparing yourself to give yourself to him. Your hands fall flat against your thighs as the sheer nightgown barely reaches the tips of your knees. You can feel the cold wind as it blows hard outside your window, can almost taste the white snowflakes that linger on his leather boots.

Your breathing goes ragged as he circles the chair. Circling and circling as he trails a calloused finger over your bare shoulders as he takes you in with his chocolate eyes, inspecting you as he drinks in your features. Your throat goes dry as you watch him stalk around you. He’s a hungry wolf and he’s starving for you.

“Tell me, have you been a good girl today?” His words drag against his teeth as he snarls the words out. He continues to circle, making you audibly gulp at the words that leave his mouth.

“Yes, sir,” you answer, your nails digging into the flesh of your aching skin.

“Have you touched yourself today?” he asks as he circles you again, peeling his hands over your arm as you shiver from his rough fingers.

“N-no,” you stutter out, falling over your words. Except you had. You did earlier in the shower, thinking of Joel’s hands, pretending his fingers were yours as you made yourself feel good, spilling yourself all over the tiled floor as you called his name. Joel, Joel.

“You filthy little liar. I know you did. I can smell your arousal all over your fingers.” He grabs your hand tight and pulls it up to his nose as he inhales deeply, his eyes closing as he breathes in your scent. When he opens his eyes up, he takes your fingers into his mouth and sucks slowly, watching you with cold, heavy eyes. Your eyes go wide as you watch him slurp your taste up. A wave of slick runs down the seam of your lacy underwear, and you have to squeeze your legs shut at the growing throb that’s now aching to be touched.

He releases your fingers slowly as you watch him pool his saliva all over you, watching it slide over your hand as he drops it back to your knees with a slapping sound that echoes through the walls of the bedroom. He makes a slow, steady circle around you as he halts right next to you. You see him out of the corner of your eye as he bends and places his hands on his knees, slowly curving his spine as he eyes you with a hard line strewn across his lips. You gulp and sit up straight. You’re in trouble, you know it too.

“I, I didn’t mean to…” you squeak out carefully.

“Shut the fuck up and listen to me,” he growls. You automatically go quiet, afraid to interrupt him again. “The next time I find out you pleasured yourself without me, I’m gonna make you fuck yourself on my fingers while I watch, you got that?” he hisses.

Your mouth drops open at the mention of you fucking his fingers yourself, and you have to gulp down a moan at the thought of it. “Mhm,” you hum.

“Repeat it!” he yells, anger seething up in him.

“Yes, I understand,” you say with your eyes low, looking down at your shaking hands.

“Good.”

He skates around and stops in front of you, bending down as he places his rough hands on your knees. “Now, what are we gonna do with you, huh? You gonna be a good girl for me?” he asks as he moves your hands away and places his own on the end of your sheer nightgown.

“Yes,” you breathe, your voice shaky as he inches your nightgown higher, grazing his calloused fingers over your thighs, feeling that low tingling sensation start in the back of your spine.

“Good. That’s good,” he groans as he pushes your nightgown up higher and higher, climbing up your thighs until no more material is touching your legs. The only thing left is your white lacy underwear that are ruined from how drenched you are.

“Now, tell me. What were ya thinkin’ about in the shower?” he asks as he slowly pushes your thighs apart, trailing his fingers up nice and slow as he teases you, getting you all worked up for him.

“You, I was thinking about you,” you gasp as he pushes your legs even further, causing more slick to build up from the action of his rugged hands.

“Were ya thinkin’ of these fingers curling up inside you as I make you cum? Or maybe my tongue swirling around that pretty pink clit of yours?” he purrs as he glides his fingers against the edges of your lace, almost touching you where you need him as he ghosts over your center.

“Y-yes, both. Please, Joel,” you beg as he teases you again, ghosting over you without so much as a light touch to your aching center.

“Please what?” he asks with his brown eyes growing darker, the edges of his pupils expanding into dark coal.

“Touch me, please,” you beg, licking your lower lip in anticipation. He sees you slide your tongue over your lip and you see his eyes grow sharper, arousal swirling all around his black pupils.

“Well, since you asked nicely.” He glides his fingers through your clothed folds, and you gasp at the feeling of your budding arousal. “So fuckin’ wet for me,” he groans as his chest rises and falls in waves, pulling his fingers away again as you huff in frustration.

He loves to tease you, loves to torture you as he builds you up and then makes you beg for it. He wants to hear it, wants you down on your knees as you plead and moan for him, calling his name as you beg again and again. Touch me, taste me, fuck me.

“Joelllll,” you beg again, dragging the last syllable out as you call his name, needing his fingers on you, needing his tongue, his cock, his everything.

“Such a needy girl, aren’t you?” he teases, trailing his fingers over your seams again as he slowly unhooks the material from your hips. He slides the wet material down your legs and disposes of them on the ground, leaving you completely bare from the waist down.

He pushes your thighs apart and smooths a thumb over your center as he slides it all the way up, collecting slick as he goes along. You shudder under him as you feel yourself drip on the wooden chair, so turned on that you feel like you could orgasm right at this moment. “Goddamn, you're drenched,” he groans as he takes his thumb in his mouth, sucking all the slick off as he stares into your eyes intensely. And fuck, it’s hot.

“Now, you’re gonna be a good girl and show me exactly what you were doing in the shower. Go on,” he nods at you. “Show me how you touched yourself.” He stands back against the wall and leans on it, crossing his arms and knitting his eyebrows together in concentration, watching as his flexed muscles pull at his plaid shirt. “Any day now,” he says sternly. “Touch yourself. Now,” he growls. You automatically obey and nod up at him.

You gulp saliva down your throat and slowly bring your right hand over your center, gently pressing your fingers to your throbbing clit as you circle yourself, leaning back into the chair as a quiet moan escapes your mouth as you feel the pressure building fast. You’re so close, already so close.

“Eyes on me,” he commands as the low, guttural sound emits around the room.

You pull your head up and lock eyes with him as you focus on your breathy moans, hitting the sensitive bundle of nerves again and again. You hear the pulsing blood rush through your ears, feel your body tense as you close in on your orgasm. Almost there, almost.

“Place a finger inside you,” he commands, his voice vibrating through your bones. You obey and slide your middle finger inside as you feel the drenched, tight walls cave around your finger. “Another,” he demands as his eyes go pitch black watching you play with yourself. You slide a second one in and curl them up, hitting the spongy walls that threaten to make you cum.

You let out a loud, aching moan as you curl your fingers again and again while your thumb circles your clit in meticulous circles. Your mouth shapes into an O position as you feel your walls clench around you. You pull out a deep rising orgasm that starts low in your spine and spreads over your heated cunt as you climb higher and higher into bliss.

“Good girl,” he growls as he watches your orgasm wash over you. White, hot heat spreading through your entire body as you ride out your first orgasm, throwing your head back as your eyes roll back into your skull, feeling the wooden chair become soaked with your slick.

You take a moment to come back down to earth, back to where you can breathe again. Feeling your ragged breaths become even as you open your eyes and focus on Joel as he stands in the corner brooding and revelling in your pleasure. He’s breathing fast as his broad chest moves up and down, can practically hear him as his breaths come out choked and fast. He’s turned on, you can see the bulge in the outline of his dark jeans as he takes you in with his eyes, trailing over your center again.

“Feels good, doesn’t it?” he asks with a deep voice rasping in the back of his throat.

“Yes, so good,” you breath out tensely. “Want you to make me feel good though,” you beg as you open up your legs for him, feeling his eyes scrape over your soaked outline.

“Oh? Think you learned your lesson?” he asks curiously with a raised brow.

“Yes, promise,” you confirm, already biting your lip at the anticipation of his fingers on you.

“Mmm, alright. Since you did what I asked, I guess you earned a reward.” He stalks toward you, bending down before you as he gets on his knees and brings your legs up over his shoulders, slowly trailing his fingers up your inner thighs as he works you up again, getting you ready for your second orgasm.

“Look at this pretty pussy, all soppin’ and drippin’ for me. Want me to make you wetter? Want me to make you see stars?” he purrs as he blows on your center, making you buck your hips up at the breezy feeling as it tickles your most sensitive areas.

“Fuck, yes,” you squirm, begging for his touch.

“Mmm patience, little lamb. Gonna take ya nice and slow. You gonna be a good girl and cum all over my fingers?” he groans as a deep growl escapes his chest.

“Yes, fuck. I’ll be the best girl, your best girl,” you whine out.

“Mmm that’s what I like to hear,” he praises. Before you can respond, he licks a long, slow stripe up your center as you moan out his name.

“What’s that, little lamb? Couldn’t hear you over your moans,” he teases.

He pulls you lower in the chair as the wood scrapes along your back, feeling his rough hands wrap around your thighs tight. He inhales deeply and then spits on your cunt in a degrading, ravishing way. He takes his thumb and spreads the warm spit over your folds as you writhe under his touch.

“Hold still,” he warns as he presses his other hand on your thigh. You nod up at him and let him continue stroking his thumb up and down you, spreading your wet folds as he gently presses slow circles around your bundle of nerves. You let out a low, drawn out moan as he slips two fingers inside you and flicks his tongue back and forth in slow, lapping circles, so close to bringing you to the heavens again, so close to orgasm already.

One more thrust inside of you and then he’s pulling his fingers out, leaving your clit as he takes his mouth off you and backs up, dropping your legs from his shoulders as he stays straddling in between your legs. Why did he stop? Why did he fucking stop?

“Joel, I need to…I need to…” you whine out. He hushes you with the swipe of his finger to your lips, and you quietly pout as your eyebrows furrow together. Need to cum, need to cum.

“Think you deserve it?” he asks as he wets his bottom lip with his tongue, building you up even more as you beg to cum.

“Yes,” you cry out, your clit throbbing with need, your body sick with desperation to let go.

He chuckles a low laugh and smirks up at you, his dark eyes honing in as the black pits expand around him. He’s cruel, wicked, a devil in disguise as he torments you. He knows what he’s doing, he knows.

Filthy trickster, vicious teaser. Cruel, cruel, cruel, the voices whisper in your mind, filling you with regret and longing as you dig your nails into the wooden chair, feeling your body screaming at you. Let go, let go. Need to cum, need to cum. Joel sees the torment in your needing eyes, sees the way you’re scraping your nails into the wood as you beg him to release you with your watering eyes.

“You know, the female orgasm is a complex thing. I can feel you screaming inside to let go, can see the way you ache for release.” He grunts as he pushes a wet, hot finger inside your mouth, slowly pushing a second in as he slides his fingers further up, feeling your saliva cake around him.

“Suck,” he commands. You do as he says and suck his fingers, feeling your sweet arousal slide down the back of your throat. “Good girl,” he praises, but he doesn’t let up. He keeps his fingers inside your panting mouth.

“It’s just so hot to watch you suck my fingers with your dripping slick all over them,” he says as he bites his lip, sending his fingers further down your throat as you gag and choke on them, seeing his eyes become full black pits as he watches with pleasure. “Such a good girl, choking on my fingers. Wanna see you choke on something else,” he growls as his sharp incisors beam up at you in a smirk as he slowly releases his fingers from your mouth, pulling saliva with him.

You groan at the sight of his disheveled, tousled curls, at the grey patchy beard that encases his face, at the smoldering stare he’s giving you, at that devilish smirk that’s taunting and teasing you in the most torturous way.

“Your mouth. God, your mouth looks so inviting, and your teeth. They’d feel so good closed around my neck,” you whine as you beg him to finish you off, let you cum in peace.

“Mhmm. The better to eat you with, my dear,” he smirks. The little red riding hood quote takes you for a ride as you feel your cunt clench up around nothing, needing a release.

He smirks up at you once more and winks before he dives back into you, his fingers curling up inside as they jab up into your spongy spot, his mouth pulling and sucking your clit into his mouth. You feel the bubbling sensation, feel the waves crashing around you as they pull you under, drowning you in a wave of bliss and white heat as it explodes around you. You scream his name loud and desperate as you feel yourself let go. You clench around his fingers and then release, spilling your slick all over him. But what takes you by surprise is that’s not all.

You feel another orgasm take over as your body crumbles underneath him as he continues licking up your slick, working his fingers up and down you as he draws out more, spilling all of you, taking all of you for himself. Selfish, so selfish. But he builds you up so good that this is the best release you’ve ever experienced, like you’re walking on cloud nine as you feel a squirting sensation take over. Feeling yourself inject him with your slick as it sprays all over the front of his plaid shirt.

“Goddamn!” he yells as he pumps his fingers inside you, slowing his rhythm as he works it all out of you. You feel your legs shake and shutter around him as he holds your thighs open, not letting you close until he’s gotten every last drop out of you. After a few seconds of total bliss, you feel your body relax as there’s no more. That was the most intense orgasm of your life, and you wanted more. Needed him to continue to do that for however long this would go on.

“See what happens when I make you wait, when I tease you,” he smirks. “Makes you feel that much better,” he smiles, a devilish grin taking form on his face.

“You’re a menace, Joel Miller,” you respond out of breath, your eyes glazed over as you look over his aroused face.

“A menace, huh? Is that what I am?” he laughs.

“Yes,” you say carefully.

“Better watch your mouth,” he warns, slowly sliding his hands over your pale skin as he drags over your thighs, ending at your knees.

“What if I don’t?” you mock, wanting to test the waters, wanting to feed his anger. Keep quiet, keep quiet, the voices whisper. But you don’t listen. You never listen, always pushing them aside.

He stays quiet for a moment, but you see his features turning from day to night. He’s furious, his anger fuming inside him as you challenge him. Back down, back down, run, the ghosts scream. But you don’t. You stand your ground, let him rip into you as he takes control. You want him to, you need him to. He’s ruined you like the dead soil that lies in the snowed over dirt outside. He fucking ruined you.

You watch as his eyes turn frigid, his blood running cold as his eyebrows furrow up, his rage conforming to every bone in his hollow body. He’s on you in the next second, his hand wrapping around your throat as he squeezes just slightly, not enough to hurt you. He’s warning you, declaring his dominance over you. Telling you that he owns you, controls you.

He hovers in front of your face as his hot breath blows over you, smelling a hint of coffee and whiskey as it surrounds you like a cloud. You could get drunk off his scent, drunk off him. “Don’t you dare talk back to me, little lamb. You know what happens when you open that pretty fuckin’ mouth of yours.” He narrows his eyes as they stare into you like sharp daggers.

He squeezes your neck tighter and you try to open your mouth, but nothing comes out. It’s not to the point of pain. He never goes too far, only gets you close. It feels good, so good the way he’s squeezing, the veins in your neck begging him to put more pressure into it. You’re sick, infected with his poison with the way he mind fucks you into doing anything he says. You're a puppet, and he’s pulling all the strings.

Get out, get out, they scream. He comes to take, he comes to destroy, they warn. But you don’t care. Let him destroy. You want him to, need him to destroy your body. You let him take, let him consume you as he throws you to the wolves. Except he is the wolf, and he is the one that tears you apart piece by fucking piece. A lamb to a wolf’s slaughter.

He ghosts his lips against your ear, slowly biting down on your earlobe as he pulls down sharply. You wince and he lets go slowly. His rough tongue glides up your jawline as he squeezes lightly around your throat, building that sweet pool of arousal up again as he twists your emotions. You can barely tell the difference between pain and pleasure anymore. He’s been so rough with you, has done so many demoralizing things as he takes and takes from you, feeding his hatred and anger from the ghosts of his past. But he makes you feel so good, so fucking good. You can never deny him, can never run from him. You want it, you want it. So you’ll have it, you’ll have him.

“I could just eat you right up,” he purrs as he bites at your lower lip, pulling it back and releasing as it slaps back into place. You feel the sting of his teeth mark your throbbing lip, but it feels so good. So good.

“So do it. Take me,” you beg, choking out the words with his strong hand wrapped around you.

His eyes go black as he smirks up at you, his eyes smoldering into yours. “You asked for it, little lamb. Now c’mere.” He growls as he releases his death grip on your neck and yanks you out of the chair, slamming you into the white wall as he pins your arms above you and shoves the sheer nightgown up your body. He rips it over your head and tosses it to the floor in a heap.

You feel the cold air across your bare skin as his body crowds you, his lips sinking deep into your neck as he bites at the thin flesh. He pulls and tugs and sucks in a needy, aggressive way. You release breathy moans as the pain turns to pleasure, as you fall deep into the wolf’s trap as he claws at you. Taking, taking, taking. He’s rough, insensitive, always taking what he wants, what he craves. But you let him, you always let him.

He rolls your nipples with the pads of his rough thumbs, gathering your breasts as he kneads them together, making you pebble underneath him as he bites at them, leaving marks all over you. He claims, he takes with no regard for you. It’s what he needs, but you need it just as bad now. He’s brought you to ruin again and again, and he’ll continue to take advantage. You’ll let him, you’ll let him.

He glides his tongue back up to the crook of your neck and bites hard as you scream in both pleasure and pain. It’s too much, too much. But you take it, allowing him to have his way with you. He needs it, he needs it.

You feel the edge of his bulge against your leg as his hips dig into you, feel the shape as your body shakes around you. You want it, you need his cock. Your hands are still held against your will above you, so you lift your leg up slowly, skimming the base of him as you feel his large length through his denim. He grabs your leg fast and shoves it down as he grabs your chin and brings your eyes to his level.

“Did I say you could fucking touch me?” he snarls as his jagged teeth shine in the moonlight.

“No…” you whisper scarcely.

“No is right,” he snarls with bared teeth. “You do as I say when I say it. Got it?” he asks as he shoves you up against the wall, keeping his hand planted firmly against your jaw.

“Yes, sir,” you respond with a shaky breath.

“Good girl,” he smirks. “Now, let me teach you a little lesson on how to fucking do as you’re told,” he growls. “Stay,” he commands as he leaves you clinging to the thin wall. He saunters over to the wooden chair and takes a seat as he spreads his legs, palming himself slowly as one hand unlatches his leather belt and drops it to the floor with a clank.

“Get on all fours, now,” he commands as he swiftly unzips his jeans, slowly yanking them to the ground as he kicks off his leather boots and pushes the jeans to the floor, leaving him bare from the waist down. You gawk at the size of him, of that massive twitching erection as it plants firmly against his tight stomach, a bead of precum glistening on the swollen tip of him. He’s so fucking pretty sitting there, about to palm himself as he watches you. Something about that brings out the sultry, unruly side of you. You want to taste him, need to feel him inside you.

You’re on all fours, waiting for his commanding call as he allows you to come to him. You need to feel him, need to taste him, need to smell him as his hot arousal encases the air, taking over every logical sense of your brain as he calls to you in your mind. Come out, come out wherever you are, little lamb. Time to come play with the big, bad wolf.

“Crawl,” he growls from the middle of the room, glaring his dark black pits into your soul. You generously oblige as you scrape your nails over the wooden floor, feeling your knees drag behind you as you make your way to him slowly and steadily. You feel your eyes gloss over with pure lust as you stare up at him, watching him pump his hand up and down his large cock, spreading precum all over himself. You gulp at the sight, at the massive length he has on him.

God, he’s so big. So big that when he takes you, he stretches you to your limits. Splitting you in two as he drives into you over and over again. It’s never vanilla, it’s always rough. So very rough. But you like it. Like the way he feels inside you as he claims you, dominates you. You’re mine, all mine, he grits through his teeth as he takes you, digging his nails into your skin as he rips at you, shredding you to pieces.

Take me, take me, you beg through your mind. And you swear he hears you by the way he sits up straighter at full attention and smirks down at you with eyes full of pure lust. And he’s telling you now with his smirk, with his eyes. You’re mine, he growls. And you know it, you know it. His to take.

You grovel over to him, batting your long eyelashes up at him as if that’ll stir the desire in him. You bite your lower lip and flick your tongue across the edge seductively as you smolder for him. Take me, take me, you scream.

The anger builds in him as he snarls down at you and hisses as he continues to pump his large length. The thick veins cascade around his thick cock as shots of precum drip down around him, ending in his coarse, wiry hair. You want to taste him, need to taste him. You’ve never craved anyone like this in your entire life.

He wrapped his twisting vines around your wrists and pulled until he had a forceful hold on you. He dragged you through the pitch black forest and devoured your body, claiming you as his own in the first week he met you. And you were hooked ever since, never being able to say no to him. You could even hear the forest shrieking its warning calls. Run away, leave, get away from the wolf with dark eyes. But you didn’t listen, only hypnotized by the dark, dominant beast of the night.

When you finally reach him and work your way in between his legs, he grabs your jaw with his rough hand and forces you to open as he squeezes you tight. “Tongue out,” he presses and you fully oblige.

You stick your wet tongue out, and he brings the tip of his cock to you as you slowly lap at the end with your tongue. “Fuck,” he groans from deep in his chest as he stares down at you with a snarl. You slowly draw sensual circles with your tongue along his most sensitive spots and lap up precum into your mouth as you generously swallow the salty flavor of him. You smirk up at him as you lap at his tip, giving him your best smoldering eyes that you can.

You watch his eyes turn coal black as he grabs the back of your hair and pulls your eyes up to his. You wince at the pain simmering through your skull as he holds you tight, unable to move an inch from him. “Quit fuckin’ teasin’ me,” he growls as his piercing eyes sear through you like a knife. He pulls your hair tighter and you cry out in pain. “You gonna be a good girl and behave?” he asks with a twinge of anger in his deep voice.

“Mhm,” you nod as he stares his hard eyes into you.

“Better be.” He bares his teeth as he lets his grip drop from you, and you catch yourself on his knees. “Now be a good little lamb and show me how good your mouth fucks,” he growls as he sits back in the wooden chair and scoots his hips up, waiting to be pleasured by you.

You’re quick to appease him. You wrap a hand around his thick cock and slide your hand up and down, spreading precum all around his length, and then you take him in your mouth. You work him nice and slow as you bob up and down, up and down, gathering spit all over his cock. He moans a deep, sated sound out of his throat as he watches you with hollowed out black eyes.

You continue flicking your tongue and sucking his thick, substantial length as you work up and down to please him. You can tell he’s right on the edge of release by the way he’s clenching his jaw and breathing out ragged, concentrated moans. But he won’t end there, not tonight. He’ll push your boundaries, he always does.

As you pull back to his tip, he reaches down and grabs your hair hard and thrusts up into your mouth. He brings your head forward and forces you down as his large length hits the back of your throat, making your eyes start to water from the action. He doesn’t let up, he just keeps thrusting harder and faster as he mouth fucks you forcefully.

You choke and gag on him as he hits the back of your throat over and over again. Your mouth is a swimming pool of saliva as it drips down your chin, caking his cock with slick drool. You feel like you're drowning and can’t breathe underneath him, but he keeps going. He’s almost there, almost there. Need to breathe, need to breathe. Your eyes water as tears spill down your crimson cheeks and fall to the cold floor. He’s pushing you, always pushing you to your limits as he pushes past them. He loves when you choke on him, loves to hear the gargled, gagging sounds as your throat constricts around him. And when you look into his black eyes and see the way he bares his sharp teeth down at you, you know you made him feel good.

“You look so goddamn pretty choking on me, little lamb. Feels so fucking good when you deep throat me, when I fuck your mouth with my cock,” he moans as he pushes you deeper, nearly suffocating you under the weight of his massive cock that’s coated in drool. “Now you’re gonna be a good girl and swallow for me,” he commands as he thrusts inside you.

You can’t take much more. You’re out of breath and you’re digging into his thighs as you continue to take him, barely able to hold on anymore. You see him clench his jaw again, his breath speeding up as he groans curses out of his mouth. He’s there, he’s there. His dark eyes roll back as he holds your head in place and releases his load all through the back of your throat. You feel the white, hot liquid slide down your throat as you swallow the salty taste of him.

“Good girl. That’s a good fucking girl,” he growls as he finishes releasing himself in you. You watch his body go slack against the back of the chair as he breathes hot, whimpered moans from deep within his chest. He drops his hand from the back of your head, and you pull back, finally able to breathe again. You catch your breath and cough as you choke on more saliva and cum. You brace your hands on the cool floor and sink your nails into the wood, getting a grip on reality again as your body comes back to earth. Your voice is so shaky, so raspy as you wipe the drool from your chin and swipe the tears from your eyes.

He takes, he takes, the voices whisper. But you let him take, you let him ravage you as much as he wants. Don’t give in, don’t listen to the beast. But you do, you always do. The beast has claimed you as his, and little lambs always listen to their master.

The shrieking wind blows against your window, warning you of the beast that lies inside. Warning you that there’s danger near, and it’s lurking. That danger sits in your wooden chair, revitalizing himself before he crowds your body over the bed. He’s not done with you just yet. He needs to feed, needs to devour the entirety of you. He needs to destroy every last part of you as he claims you for himself over and over again.

He slowly pushes himself out of the wooden chair and grabs your arm, pulling you up from the cold floor as he grasps you tight. “On the bed,” he commands as he bares his teeth and pulls you over to the queen sized bed. He pushes you down as you fall on your back into the cool, satiny sheets.

He slowly unbuttons his plaid shirt as he stalks toward you with dark eyes that look like they want to devour you whole. When he gets to the last button, he pulls off the shirt and drops it to the floor, leaving him completely bare. He’s so goddamn handsome that it hurts to even stare for too long.

His broad shoulders and thick arms make it hard to breathe. His bulging veins that spider down his arms and cover his massive hands makes you want to whine in need. His tousled curls and brown flecked eyes make you want to come undone just from one look. They’re hypnotizing, spellbinding. And if you look close enough, you swear you can see the flash of yellow in his eyes as he stalks toward you, ready to pounce as he comes in for the kill.

Run, go now before it’s too late, the voices warn. The wolf comes to steal, the wolf comes to kill, they shriek. Let him, you whisper to the voices. You’re his to take. You want him to take. Take me, take me, you beg. And he will, he always does.

You feel the mattress shift underneath you as he drags his body over the edge of the bed, slowly crawling on top of you as his massive form hangs over you. His eyes are black pits as they stare at you, tempting you to come into the darkness as he drags you down again and again. Your eyes go wide and your pulse races in your neck as you stare up at the man made of nightmares.

“What’s the matter, little lamb? Scared of the big bad wolf?” he asks as he smirks down at you, his eyes pooled with darkness.

“No, I’m not scared,” you whisper out as you gulp down your fears.

“Then why can I smell the fear on you?” he smiles, his teeth like white, jagged razors.

“I’m not scared of you. No. I’m scared you’ll run off into the night and never come back.” Your voice comes out meek, breathy. Why the fuck did you just say that? His smile drops from his face and his eyebrows knit together. You can’t tell what he’s feeling, can’t tell what he’ll do. Don’t go, don’t go, you whisper. You need him. You need him.

His jaw flexes and relaxes as you see his waning features in the moonlight. He grazes his calloused fingers over your jaw slowly and comes to cup your chin as he pulls your eyes up to his. “You don’t have to worry about that, little lamb. Even if I run, I always come back. You’re mine and mine alone. Tell me who you belong to,” he growls possessively, making you desperate for his touch. You need him, you need him.

“You. I belong to you. I’m yours,” you gasp out, not able to hold on much longer. Touch me, taste me, devour me.

“That’s my good girl,” he praises.

Before you can comprehend what happens, he crashes his lips down to yours and devours you. Sucking, biting, kissing your throbbing lips as he shoves his tongue in your mouth and glides his rough tongue against yours. He swirls and swirls, filling up your senses with the taste of him. He tastes so fucking good, you could get lost in his whiskey taste, needing to drown in it until it fills up your lungs completely.

When he releases from your mouth, he cages his arms around your shoulders and crowds your body with his. “Little lamb, little lamb. What pretty eyes you have,” he purrs as he slowly pushes your legs apart with his knees, spreading you wide open for him to take. You bite your lip at the gentle praise and feel yourself become wet with arousal at the sight of him spreading you.

He lowers his head to your neck and licks a stripe up the side, right in the sensitive crevice of your neck. “And you taste so fucking good, I just love eating you up,” he groans as he bites down on your most sensitive nerve ending in your neck. You moan at the sharp, hot sensation as a wave of slick runs down your inner thigh.

He trails his hand slowly down your center, starting at your chin, gliding down your sternum, sliding over your abdomen, and ending at your wet, hot center. He spreads your soft folds and draws tight, slow circles around your clit as you hear the sloshing noises from your arousal.

“Joel,” you moan out, whining as it takes you under a sea of hypnotic pleasure. “Take me. Please, take me,” you beg.

“That’s right, little lamb. Good girls get rewarded, and you’ve been such a good girl for me tonight,” he praises through your thick cloud of pleasure. “Gonna fuck you now, little lamb. Gonna show you how good I can make you feel,” he says with bared teeth.

“Please,” you beg as he takes his thumb off your clit and pulls you down further in the bed, angling your hips up as he wraps your legs tight around his back.

“You’re mine, little lamb. Mine,” he growls as he plunges his thick cock in you, spreading you wide and splitting you in two as you moan out in pleasure.

He keeps his strides steady and slow, quickly picking up the pace as he fucks up into you over and over again. Driving your moans out of you as he bottoms out inside you, pounding over and over again against your tight walls. He throws your legs over his shoulders and digs his nails into your hips as he fucks you hard and fast, repeatedly hitting the soft, spongy area inside you over and over again. It’s too much, it’s too fucking much. You whine out as you moan his name over and over again. So good, it feels so good. You can feel the pressure building, feel your orgasm about to take form as your walls flutter against his cock.

“You’re squeezin’ me so tight, little lamb. Feels so fuckin’ good. Let go for me, want you to come for me. Tell me who fuckin’ makes you feel good. Tell me who you fuckin’ belong to,” he growls as he fucks inside you harder, pressing the pad of his calloused thumb against your throbbing bundle of nerves as he circles and circles, drawing that sweet orgasm out of you.

You feel the tingling sensation wash over your head, down your spine, and ending at your aching cunt as your toes curl around him. You keep your eyes trained on him as you’re barely able to keep them open. You feel your mouth drop open wide as you let out a loud moan that’s meant for Joel.

“You. I belong to you, Joel.” You scream out his name as your orgasm washes over you, feeling your walls clench up around him and then release white slick all over his cock as he continues to thrust up inside you, as he continues to circle your pulsing clit. White, hot heat spills through you as you completely lose yourself to him. Your body feels staticky as your mind goes fuzzy and your brain fogs over, only thinking of the man with dark eyes that takes you over completely.

“Good girl, good fucking girl,” he growls as he leans over your body and hovers over you, driving his thick cock in and out, in and out. Bottoming out so many times that you see stars. He’s there, he’s almost there, he’s about to cum. Four more thrusts and his body tenses up, his black pupils expanding as he throws his head back and clenches his jaw. He spills his seed inside of you as you feel the sticky cum coat your walls. He claims you, he claims you, and you love it, can never get enough. Mine, mine, mine, he growls possessively. And you’re his, you’re all his.

He slowly pulls out of you as you feel his seed drip down your inner thighs. “Did so good for me, little lamb. So good,” he praises as he cleans the mess from your thighs, wiping away the evidence that he had been there. He collapses next to you in bed and pulls you to him as he wraps his strong arms around you, crushing you to his chest. It feels good, this feels good.

He always leaves right after he finishes, never stays to comfort or hold you. He’s selfish, mean, but tonight he holds you. He holds you. He stays. You don’t say anything about it, don’t ask him why he stays because he’ll just get up and leave, leaving you empty and alone.

You feel the heavy weight he holds close to him, feel the heartbreak he carries with him day after day, can feel the cold glass of the broken watch grazing against your back. But you don’t ask, don’t chance it. You feel the loss cover him, feel his anger seething somewhere underneath his calm demeanor. It’s there just waiting to pounce, waiting to lash out at whatever stands in front of him.

He’s the wolf that stalks Jackson, the wolf that terrorizes the forest, the wolf that haunts the whispering ghosts that lie buried in the cold, dead ground. He goes around destroying, rampaging, slaughtering in the thick of the night. He’s a menace that looks for anything he can sink his teeth into and bleed dry. He’s a looming threat over every area he enters, threatening to destroy and kill. He takes, he takes. Again and again. But that’s what wolves do. They hunt and they take and they dominate while their prey cower before them, just waiting for the kill.

Joel is a wolf. A reckless, vengeful, powerful wolf. He loves to devour, loves to control, loves to dominate you. But he also gives, never letting you go starving for his touch. He always comes at the dead of night, always pulls you from your deep sleep to tumble around with the wolf in the sheets.

He’s like a melodic, captivating melody that hypnotizes you, calling you into the forest night after night with his deep howl. You always go, never ignoring the call that’s meant for you and you alone. And when you go, the ghosts reach for you from under the dirt and try to pull you away, warning you of what you’re about to face. But you ignore them, stepping over their graves as if they were never there. You go, you always go. Never betraying the lonely wolf with the sad, dark eyes.

It’s now while he holds you tight in his arms that you realize maybe you were meant to find him. He’s broken, a lone wolf that walks the hollow streets of Jackson just trying to find a purpose to keep going, to keep fighting. And when you showed up a few months ago, it's like a little light turned on inside him when it was all around black before you came.

You see him now for what he really is. He’s not all bad, not all teeth and claws. He yearns to break free from his wolf form, begging to run free with the rest of the pack instead of being cast out like he is. You see it in his wrinkled forehead, in his jaw that repeatedly clenches and relaxes, in his dark brown eyes that hollow out when you stare into them.

He’s so close, so close that you smell his mahogany forest scent that clings to him as it pulls you in, intoxicating you into a relaxed state. He stares at you with those dark eyes, his chest breathing in and out in shallow waves. You try something new, feeling brave all of a sudden. You slowly reach out your hand and brush it through his tousled curls, gently moving away a dark piece that falls against the side of his face. He doesn’t move, doesn’t lash out at you like a wild animal. He stays calm, just staring at you with a soft expression. His eyes change to a chocolate brown instead of the deep black pits he usually has. And then he surprises you by reaching his hand up slowly to your face, hesitating at the gentleness of himself. He trails his calloused fingers over your cheek, as light as a feather as he takes in your tranquil features.

He changes, he changes, the voices call. No more teeth, no more slaughter, they chant louder. A quiet victory to the ghosts that haunt the forest.

And just like that, you have tamed the wolf, controlling all his pent up rage, giving him the restitution he needed all along. You can see it in his big brown eyes, how he looks at you as if you saw him for the first time when no one else did. When no one else could give him what he needed. He needed someone that could understand all the hurt and loss he had been through. You’ve lost, you’ve died a thousand times through grief, but you found your way again through him. The hungry wolf that you were searching for all along.

And so the lost, scared lamb found herself in the face of the big, bad wolf. He came to destroy, to take, and to use. But you found a way to tame the claws, to tame the gnashing teeth. Somehow you controlled the beast, showing him that he truly wasn’t alone. Never leave, never leave, you call to him in your mind. And it’s like he can hear your thoughts because he drags his thumb lightly down your jawline and responds.

“I’ll stay, little lamb. I’ll stay,” he whispers. And he does, he does.

Maybe not all wolves are out to steal, kill, and destroy. Maybe there are wolves that are just lonely, broken, needing to know that someone understands them. Needing to know that they’re truly not alone. Joel is that wolf. He just needed to find you. He needed to find the lamb that wouldn’t run and cower in his presence. He needed a lamb that would stay by his side, that would show him the way out of the dark and into the light. He needed restitution. He needed you. He needed you.

And so he stays, he stays. The lonely, bleeding, broken wolf finding resolve and contentment with the quiet, gentle lamb. He stays.

Tags: @janaispunk @amyispxnk @iamasaddie @ashleymsnodgrass @tuquoquebrute @whxtedreams @fanfictilltheend @burntheedges @cinnamongorll @studioghibelli @pedrostories @blueseastorm @trea-bae

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aquariusmiller · 7 months ago

Text

cowboy like me

Chapter I: Save A Prayer

Pairing: Jackson!Joel x f!reader

Series Summary: You turn out to be Joel’s biggest lesson in trust – how will he handle the second side of the same coin?

Chapter Summary: Your view of the harsh post-outbreak world is slowly turning around when you discover an unusually friendly place. You have an encounter with a stranger that pushes you in the direction of staying.

Word Count: ~2.6k

Warnings: anxiety (reader is cornered), a tiny bit of swearing, flirting, kissing, overboard drinking, dark!reader if you really really squint (will be darker in other chapters), canon compliant

A/N: I've had this idea for a while for a reader with a con artist past so dark it could rival Joel's, inspired of course by "cowboy like me" by Taylor Swift haha. The reader would have a chapter committed to a backstory and the fic could be read with or without it if you don't like your reader having too much of a story by themselves. First time writing, so be kind and enjoy :)

masterlist

song recs: save a prayer - duran duran ("So I asked you to dance but fear is in your soul") and enchanted - taylor swift ("I was enchanted to meet you")

You had... An interesting day, to say the least. Walking through the thick woods in the chilly fall morning, the only sounds accompanying you were the stream of a nearby river and an occasional wild animal. You were looking for abandoned houses, low on ammo and hoping to find some, but you had no luck. You walked back to the river and decided to try crossing it. You found a wooden plank near the river, obviously used often and you stopped and debated on your decision. If it was used so often, you could be walking straight into raider territory, or worse. Groups of people were rarely friendly. With no other choice, you moved the plank and crossed the river, hypervigilant as you continued searching.

Soon, you realized your hypervigilance was well-earned, as you heard the trot of horses. You ran to hide behind a nearby tree. The hooves pounding the ground were growing louder and you tried to calm your breathing and will your anxious mind and body into silence. The group was looking around for you, one of the men getting dangerously close to the tree you were hiding behind. He suddenly turned around and saw you, shouting.

“I found her! Behind this tree!”

Horses quickly surrounded you and you were scared to death, thinking you’ve run out of luck. Thinking your days are numbered. But you were surprised as after harsh questioning, a man that introduced himself as Tommy and had this kind look in his eyes, like he wanted to help you, approached you and asked you to come with them.

You didn’t trust him fully. You knew the horror stories about people acting out all types of stories to lure you into a trap. Hell, you’ve done it. But when Tommy told you about a walled settlement with food, water and electricity, were everyone works to get their share... You really wanted to believe it. You were tired of running. Tired of being alone after two weeks of only the open sky and your black Toyota keeping you company. You went with him, keeping in mind you could always escape if things go awry.

You looked around in awe as his story turned out to be true. You saw big walls and friendly guards protecting the settlement. Guards were never friendly, the way you recall them from the QZ. As they let Tommy and you through, you looked around at the houses, the working streetlights, the people talking and laughing without a care in the world on a small bench, kids running around and playing on a grass field. How was this real?

That’s how you ended up in Jackson. You’re still not over the initial shock as you unpack clothes from your backpack and put them in the closet of a cabin within the walls that Tommy deemed as yours. You’re astounded and warmed by the kindness you haven’t experienced in a long time.

You’re not sure you’re staying. Why? You’re just waiting for the twist. Waiting for something to go wrong. You decide you’ll enjoy your stay, though, and try to sniff out this community.

Jackson has a bar. A bar! You decide it’s the perfect place to go as night has already set in and it’s your first day in this peculiar settlement. You take out the only clean clothes you have and smile widely as you head into the shower. A working shower with hot water. You could cry of joy right now.

You walk into the bar named “Tipsy Bison”. Such a typical name for a bar that looks like this, you think. It’s obviously an old and restored dive bar, and you can’t help but marvel at the coziness of the rustic interior. It’s mostly in wood, bottles of hard alcohol on the shelves and what you assume is homemade beer on tap. The lamps are casting a warm light against the dark wood.

You straighten your black turtleneck and sit down, noticing a man sitting a few barstools from you for the first time. He’s lost in thought, sipping a glass of whiskey. He’s wearing a warm green button up shirt and jeans and... He’s handsome. Very much so. You can tell he’s fairly older than you by the slight salt and pepper in his hair and beard. He has dark hair, an unapproachable facial expression and a full beard. You can also instantly tell he likes to keep to himself by his clear disinterest in talking to others. But that just draws you in more... What is hiding behind the gruffness?

No, fuck no, you’re not doing that. You’re not going to try to figure out who he is. Figure out his tells, his secrets, what makes him tick, then use it against him. No. But... Some time with him in Jackson wouldn’t hurt. You’re not sure you’re staying anyway. Might as well have some fun, even if only for a night.

You order a whiskey and when the bartender brings it over sip on it for some liquid courage. Then you stand up and sit down next to him. You give him your best smile, hoping your forwardness would cheer him up.

“Hello, handsome.”

He turns around and looks at you surprised, not without a little amused smirk on his face, clearly not used at all to being approached like this. He looks at you from head to toe, sizing you up or checking you out, you’re not sure yourself. You’re just sure he’s already trying to figure out your angle. He nods politely and says.

“Hello. You seem new around here.”

You notice a thick southern accent and a deep voice, and you can’t help but like it. You give him a friendly smile and a nod. “Yeah, just got into Jackson this morning, with the help of Tommy.”

He smirks slightly as he hears Tommy’s name, obviously knowing the guy. “Yeah, he’ll bring about just about anyone with a sad pout and a sob story.”

You’re surprised by his brazenness, you’d think with what he said he’d be worried he’d offend you. He pays no mind to it, though. You are also curious about what he says. Seems like Tommy’s kindness and naiveté was real. You smile. “Well... You’re not wrong about that.” You chuckle.

“How are you settlin’ into Jackson?” He asks politely.

You nod and smile. “Well... This place is amazing. I couldn’t believe it when I first heard it from Tommy. But then I came in and... It’s like a small town. People hanging out without worrying about infected. I had a shower with warm water.” You chuckle happily as you stare at the bar. “It’s... Incredible. I couldn’t imagine in my wildest dreams places like this existed anymore.”

He nods in understanding, having reacted similarly when he came into Jackson. It’s soon switched with a stern look. “You’re gonna have to earn your share, y’know? We don’t need any freeloaders.”

You turn to look at him, trying not to get offended at his continuous brushing off. You nod swiftly. “Of course. Tommy has told me. I’m just still trying to figure out what I’m going to do around here.”

He nods, satisfied with your determined expression. You obviously didn’t think this came for free. “Erm... Tell me, what’s your name?”

You smile and tell him your name.

“I’m Joel.” He holds out a hand to shake.

You shake his hand as you look into his eyes. His calloused hand has a firm grip and you find yourself really liking his touch.

He looks back up at you and sees the mischievous smile you’re sporting as you look back at him. He wants to pull away and forget all about this, but your eyes and smile draw him in. Make him want to see where they will take him.

You shake hands for a moment too long and pull away, looking at him with a friendly smile. “Nice to meet you, Joel.”

He nods as if he’s trying to gather himself. “Likewise.”

“So... What do you do around Jackson?” Your mischievous tone is obviously teasing him for his cold demeanor earlier.

He smirks sheepishly. “I patrol. Fix around things. Hunt for food.”

You look at him curiously. “Patrol?”

“Ya think this place runs on hopes and dreams? Yeah, a few of us patrol the perimeter, make sure to keep the infected, raiders and other unfriendly folk away from the walls.”

You nod. “Interesting. Think I could do that around Jackson.”

He has an almost condescending smile. “Yeah? Can you shoot a gun?”

You nod. “Duh. Of course. How do you think I came all the way here?”

He looks at you, sizing you up again. “Fight? Work in a group?”

You nod, even though you know damn well working in groups has never ended up well for you. “Yeah. I could even fight you, I reckon.” You smirk.

He smirks widely, amused at the thought. By the look in his eyes you can tell he could have you on the ground in five seconds flat. “Careful. I don’t pull punches.”

You smirk and lean your elbow on the bar, your hand on your cheek as you act (though you’re not sure you’re acting) impressed with him. “Good.”

He smiles slightly and takes a sip of his whiskey, very aware of your antics.

You take sips of whiskey too, finishing your glass. The music starts playing. It’s an old song you know well. “Save A Prayer” by Duran Duran. Joel is obviously shook out of his thoughts as he hears the song playing.

“Haven’t heard this song in a hell of a long time.”

You nod. “Me neither. I love it.” You smile.

He turns to look at you surprised. “You know this song? Ya don’t seem the age.”

You nod. “My father used to play it for me all the time when I was little.” You chuckle. “Grew up to like it.”

He nods as he looks at you for a second, obviously appreciating your taste in music, even if it’s not completely yours. “So you know Duran Duran?”

You nod and smile widely. “Yeah. Think it’s my favorite band from the eighties.” You get an impulsive idea and turn to him. “Say... You wanna dance?”

He instantly shakes his head. “Nah... Not the dancing type.”

You smile widely as you take his hand. “When was the last time you had fun, old man?” You chuckle.

He smirks as he takes your hand and leads you to the small space in front of an old jukebox meant to serve as a dance floor. “You’re gonna regret sayin’ that.”

You laugh lightly as he takes you to dance. “Yeah? What are you gonna do?”

He lets the question linger as a promise as he stands in front of you and looks at you, lust in his eyes. You put your left hand on his shoulder, your right hand in his as you start to dance. He lets his hand snake around your waist as you lead the slow dance. You look at each other, both trying to find something in the other’s eyes. The alcohol, the way his hand feels around your waist... They’re enveloping you, making you lose yourself in him. You raise his arm and twirl around it, laughing happily. He pulls you gently back in, a laugh threatening to break his stoic demeanor.

The song ends and a slower one starts, and you two are close, dancing and keeping eye contact. You glance down at his lips and he leans his face in instinctively as he glances at yours. You begin closing the distance and he leans in too. You meet halfway in a slow kiss. You’re not sure you’ve felt anything better than the taste of his lips in this old dive bar. You pull away and lick your lips as you lean in for another one and he gently puts his hand on your cheek to stop you. “Not here...” His gruff voice is quiet.

You nod and pull away, smiling at him softly. You’re not sure why this man is affecting you so much. “Alright... Wanna head back to the stools and talk?”

He nods with a faint smile. “Um... Sure.”

You head back to the barstools and sit down. You talk for a long time about where you came from, how you ended up in Jackson. Neither of you reveal much, but you manage to pull a hearty chuckle out of this rough man. You feel warmth in your chest as you do. He’s from Austin, Texas, you’re from LA. He came from the Boston QZ, you came from the Detroit one. You could tell he’s also been through hell to come here, trying to hide the pain in his eyes as he says “Been in the QZ for twenty years before some business brought me here.” You can tell there’s a long story there, but you know better than to ask. You can only get a faint sense of the darkness behind them, just like you’re sure he senses yours. It’s a silent understanding.

You down whiskey after whiskey as you talk, enjoying the way the alcohol takes the edge off after the stress you’ve endured lately. Joel looks at you questioningly a couple of times and asks you if you’re sure you can handle the amount you’re drinking. You nod but you get progressively drunker until you start to slur words. Joel’s look of curiosity is replaced with faint annoyance as you try coming onto him wasted.

“Yeah, I live alone in Jackson.” You tell him with a wide drunken smirk.

He nods. “Yeah, I’m sure you do.” He looks at the way you’re slightly swaying on your stool and your eyes are already half-shut from the liquor. He thinks for a long moment, practicing restraint before he says “Say, want me to walk you home? Think you’ve had enough for tonight.”

You smile and lean in slightly, leaning your arm on the bar again, almost missing it as Joel slightly moves, ready to catch you if you fall before your arm lands safely. “Wanna come home with me?” You look at him with a teasing and offering expression, not even noticing how slowly you’re speaking.

He shakes his head, frustrated with your insistence while he’s trying to control himself. “I’ll just walk ya there. You’ll thank me in the morning.”

You teasingly pout at that and shake your head. “Thought we had something.” You chuckle.

He just looks at you sternly for a few moments before he speaks. “Let’s go.” He starts getting up from his seat and helps you up gently. You lean on him as he keeps you in a firm grip and you feel his core strength and his frame. You take your purse and he helps you out of the bar.

Cool night air hits you as you exit the bar. You sober up slightly, but still feel the pleasant buzz from the alcohol, combined with the smell of him: wood, metal and something uniquely his. You lean on him as you walk languidly, letting him lead you. He asks you where you live and you murmur the place. He drops you off at your cabin and you manage, after two attempts, to put the key in the lock and walk into your new home.

You walk into the cabin and stumble to your small bedroom. As you think back on the interaction, you’re hit with slight embarrassment as you realize Joel was actually irritated with how drunk you are. You lay in the bed, too tired to change and close your eyes, vivid pictures of everything that has happened today crossing your mind. For the first time in forever, you’d say you feel good.

You think as a small smile crosses your face. Maybe you’ll stay for once. Maybe it will turn out well for once. You feel something bubbling up in your chest after such a long time, you almost forgot what it felt like. But it’s unmistakable – it’s hope.

#joel miller #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel tlou #x reader #female reader #joel miller x f!reader #jackson!joel #jackson!joel miller #tlou fanfiction #tlou fic #the last of us fanfiction #joel miller tlou #post outbreak joel #joel x reader #joel x you #joel x female reader

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tightjeansjavi · 2 years ago

Text

The Menu | Part 2

“like an angel to me”

A/N: so I think this is the fastest I have ever written something in awhile! Every time I think there’s no possible way for me to want Joel even more, I surprise myself with something like this 🥴

~word count : 5.3k~

Pairing | dark! Joel Miller x f! reader

Summary: after showing up to Joel’s apartment late one night, he gives you exactly what you’re seeking.

Warnings: dubcon/teetering on noncon (the lines are pretty blurred but I just want to be safe) coercion, manipulation, mind games, degradation, a sprinkle of misogyny, possession, ownership, dominance, humiliation, reader goes from being a dom to a sub real quick, brat tamer, praise kink, size kink, blood kink??, spitting kink, unprotected PIV, rough sex, breeding kink, creampie, light spanking, oral (male receiving) little to no foreplay, some aftercare??, Joel is an asshole, delulu! Joel, cockslut, whore, bitch, are all used. Age gap, Joel is in his 40’s reader is in late 20’s, reader has no physical descriptions, readers nickname is Angel, this story might not be for everyone, and that’s okay! Please heed the warnings! If I have missed any, PLEASE let me know. +18 minors dni!

The last thing Joel Miller expected you to do was laugh. Not just giggle, or a snicker, no. It was a full on wheezing laugh.

“Oh my fuckin’ god. You’re not actually serious, are you? Wow, is this supposed to make my panties wet or something? Cus’ it’s sure doin’ the complete opposite!”

His face turned beet red all the way to the tips of his ears. The glass that was clenched firmly in his fist was on the verge of shattering. Guess he couldn’t handle his fragile ego being busted open, huh?

“Y’think you’re so funny, huh?” His confidence was wavering on thin ice as he reached for the bottle instead.

“Oh, yeah. I think I am absolutely fucking hysterical. What? You don’t get your dick wet enough around here as it is? Oh, shit! Is it because your dick is small? It’s alright, Joel. Most women don’t care about size anyway.” You were smirking through your teeth as you sipped away at what was left in your glass.

The glowering man sitting across from you took one harsh swig from the bottle before he cracked his neck to the side. “I get my dick wet around here plenty. Thank you for showin’ some concern though. Ain’t you just a real peach? Why even mention my dick size, huh? Ask any woman around here and they’ll all tell you that I am well endowed.” He nearly growled as he slammed the bottle down along the coffee table.

“Geez, don’t go and get your panties all in a twist, Miller. I have no interest in knowing anything that has to do with you dick, I assure you. God, I swear all men, even after the world has gone to shit, are the same. Y’can’t handle someone busting your ego? Well, aren’t you just some delicate fuckin’ china.” You scoffed and placed your glass down on the coffee table like a dignified person.

Oh, you didn’t just bust his ego, you shattered it right down to the core. He could handle some bruising, sure. But god, if he didn’t want to tear you into two right now—

“Maybe I shoulda let those men in the alley fuckin’ tear you apart, since you think this is so fuckin’ funny. D’ya have any fuckin’ manners at all?! I risked MY fuckin’ skin to save your own and this is how you’re gonna act?!” His voice boomed through the thin apartment walls. He expected you to cower. To profusely apologize for poking the angry bear. Instead, you stood your ground.

“Maybe you should have! You could have just minded your own and let them fuck me up, but instead you what? Wanted to be the hero?! I never asked you to come and rescue me, Joel! Y’want me to say thank you? Fine. Thank you oh so much for saving me, Joel Miller! How can I ever repay you?” You mockingly batted your lashes, followed by an eye roll as you rose to your feet.

“Yeah, well, next time I ain’t gonna be there to save your skin! So, why don’t you jus’ go on back out into the streets, and see what happens!” He shook his head tightly as his jaw clenched like a fist.

“Great! That’s the best news ever because like I just said, I never asked you to rescue me!” You yelled exasperatedly as you made your way over to the door. Your head still throbbed, and your nose felt like a million tiny shards were digging into the flesh, but you’d much rather spend a night in lock up than another minute with this man.

“Great! Jus’ be on your way then, girlie!” He grumbled through his teeth.

“Oh, and Joel? For the sake of all the women in the QZ, why don’t you just keep your dick in your fuckin’ pants.” You gave him the middle finger before yanking his apartment door open. “Do not fuckin’ follow me home.” Was the last thing you said before you slammed the door behind you on the way out.

“Oh, don’t you worry! I ain’t gonna follow your bratty, disrespectful, no good—” he was cut off by the apartment door swinging shut so hard, it nearly fell off the hinges.

For good measure, the brooding bear got up from where he was sitting and locked the apartment door just in case you thought about coming back. Not that you were going to as you were already halfway across the QZ street heading home.

Joel Miller did not see you again for what felt like months (not really. He’s just a bit dramatic is all) when all in all reality, it had been two weeks to the date. He thought maybe you had died, or worse; He thought that maybe there was a chance that you got infected. Good riddance.

But then Tess told him that you were in fact alive, but avoiding him.

Joel knew why of course. He was quite the dickhead during your last interaction. Tess couldn’t really blame you for wanting absolutely nothing to do with Joel Miller ever again.

Business carried on like usual on their end even without your addictive charm in the mix.

You fucked a FEDRA soldier for extra ration cards just out of spite, and to get Joel Miller’s stupid face eliminated from your brain permanently. If you ever ran into that man again, you wanted to be smelling of another man’s cum just to rile him up all over again.

You wanted to crawl right up into his skin. Cover him in welts and hives to drive him mad. Hell, you wanted to poison him and leave him without the antidote. Fuckin’ Joel Miller and his stupid Texas twang and those piercing brown eyes and massive hands.

Perhaps that’s how you found yourself outside his apartment door late one night searching for a vice to be filled again.

You knocked once, then paused and knocked twice.

This is fucking stupid. What the hell am I doing?

When you heard no immediate answer from the other side of the door, you assumed that he wasn’t home and proceeded to turn on your heel to walk away—

The door squeaked open as Joel Miller's head appeared from the doorway.

“Fancy seein’ you here tonight, Angel.” He rasped deeply. You couldn’t even see his face yet, and you just knew he had a shit eating grin plastered on it.

“Miller.” You acknowledged him with a tight nod when you finally turned to face him.

He was leaning against the door jamb with his arms crossed and brow raised curiously.

“And what is it exactly that you're showin’ up here for?” He knows, of course. He’s known for awhile, but he wants to hear you say it first.

“Somethin’ that I heard you have to personally ask for. Somethin’ that isn’t advertised on your little menu here, Joel.”

his lips curve upwards in a wolfish grin. He cocks his chin to the side as his broad arm comes to rest along the chipped wood on the doorframe.

“Was wonderin’ when you’d finally give in, Angel.” He rasps. Thick and deep. His words hang heavy in the sultry air.

You fought the urge to roll your eyes at his response as you crossed your arms against your chest. “Okay, well, you don’t need to be all mysterious about it. Now, can I come in, please?”

“I see you're still at it with being a disrespectful brat, huh?” He pushed himself off the side of the doorframe so that you could make your way inside. The door was pulled shut behind you with a soft woosh of air.

“Yep, and I all I could think about these past few weeks of you fuckin’ the disrespectful brat right out of me, Joel.”

I fuckin’ knew it.

“Oh, I see. So, that’s what you’ve been up to all these weeks is thinkin’ about me?” He awaited your answer with a bated breath.

“No.” You deadpanned with a faux sigh. “Was too busy fucking a FEDRA officer for some ration cards. Didn’t have enough space in my brain to think about you setting me straight.” You teased with a smirk playing on your lips.

His fists clenched at his sides as his jaw tightened. The thought of you fucking another man, let alone a FEDRA officer?

“Hmm. Is that so? Well, I think you’re lyin’ through your teeth right now, Angel.” He wasn’t about to let you get under his skin that easily.

“Me? A liar? Oh, I’m truly wounded. C’mere, Joel. I bet you can still smell him on me.” You purred softly.

His eye twitched as he imagined you screaming another man’s name as you rode his cock—

He took a few steps towards you and backed you right up against the countertop. He dipped his head down towards your face as his hands came to rest along either side of the cool countertop. His nostrils flared as he inhaled your scent with his nose pressed deeply into the clavicle of your throat. “Did ya fuck him before you showed up here? Answer me, Angel. And y’better tell the truth.” His voice dropped an octave that shamelessly sent a pool of arousal dripping through your panties.

“Mhm. I fucked him before I showed up here. His cum is still inside of me, Joel. Y’gonna fill me up too?”

His teeth grazed the spot where your neck met your collarbone as he dragged his hot tongue across your skin. “S’that what Y’want?”

“Sure.” You shrugged almost disinterested.

“That ain’t how this works. Y’tell me exactly what it is that you want from me, and I deliver. Y’got that?” He asked you sternly as the bridge of his nose dragged upwards across your throat.

“Ah. So the women you fuck tell you what they want, and that’s all you do to them? Well, where’s the fun in that? Seems kinda boring to me, Joel.”

“Y’don’t like my rules, then y’can fuckin’ leave. That’s how things work around here, baby. So, I’ll ask y’again, what do you want from me?”

“Hold on. Hold on, cowboy. Pump the breaks. What if the thing they’re requesting is something you’re not interested in? You still do it? What about the things that you want? Ain’t that important in all this?”

“God, you’re annoyin’, y’know that? Can you just answer the goddamn question? I ain’t have all night.” He grumbled impatiently.

Then you did something that neither of you expected. You reached your hand up between your nearly touching bodies and grabbed ahold of his jaw tightly between your fingers and forced him to look directly into your eyes. “No. Fuck that. The world has gone to shit and you’re not thinkin’ of your own desires? Man, don’t you wanna be in charge for once? You think I’m so annoying and nothin’ but a disrespectful brat? Then show me what you do to women like me. Put me in my place, Joel.” You challenged him.

It was as if something inside of him had snapped. Maybe you were right. Maybe he oughta put you in your place after all. Why only be half in charge of how things played out, when he could take the whole cake himself?

“Alright. We’ll play the game my way then.” He chuckled darkly as his knuckles turned stark white from how hard he was gripping either side of the countertop.

As soon as you went to open your mouth, one of his hands clamped down instantly as he leaned in close. “Startin’ with shuttin’ this smart fuckin’ mouth of yours up. Yeah, ain’t so tough now, are ya Angel? Didn’t think so. Now, I’m only gonna ask you once, alright? Get. On. Your. Fuckin.’ Knees. Now.” He commanded you.

You dropped to your knees like an obedient dog on a leash waiting to be rewarded with a treat.

“Wow, would ya look at that. Guess the bitch can be obedient after all.” He chuckled.

Your eyes narrowed slightly at his new demeanor. You weren’t one for teasing, and right now Joel Miller was testing your patience.

“Don’t go lookin’ at me like that. You’re the one who showed up at my door, remember? This ain’t goin’ fast enough for you? Well, we’ll just see about that.” He tsked under his breath as his hand moved from your mouth to resting along your jaw.

“Open.” He commanded you as he applied a bit of pressure to either side of your cheeks. When you obediently opened your mouth, he praised you. “Good girl.” Followed by a light loving slap to your cheek. “Now, the way I see it is that you have three holes for me to fuck.”

His grin intensified when your eyes widened at his suggestion. It wasn’t that..you were afraid but if he wanted to fuck you in the ass at some point, you’d need to be ready for him.

“Oh ho ho. I see. You ain’t ever done that before? Hmm. I’m surprised that a mouthy bratty whore such as yourself hasn’t had a cock in her ass before. Well, maybe we’ll save that for another time.” He leaned down so he was closer to your face as the blunt ends of his fingernails dug into the skin on your cheeks. His lip curled up into a snarl as his pupils darkened. “But then again, I am supposed to be puttin’ you in your place. Ain’t I, Angel?”

Tears began to spring along your waterline from how hard he was gripping your face. Maybe you were biting off more than you could chew. “You’re hurting me, Joel.” You gritted out as a few tears leaked down your cheekbones.

“Good.” “Now I have your full attention. That’s very good, Angel. Look at you bein’ a good girl with your listenin’ ears. Now, if I do remember from our prior interaction, you assumed that my dick was small. Ain’t that right?”

You nodded meekly.

“Ah ah ah. Words, Angel. Use ‘em. I ain’t into silence. You speak when spoken to. Y’got that?” He squeezed your cheeks tightly as tears continued to roll down them.

“Yes sir.” You squeaked out.

He loosened his grip on your face, which in turn allowed you to relax your jaw. “Where were we? Ah! Right. The part where you assumed that my cock was small. Right before you called me some delicate fuckin’ china. So, how about you see for yourself.” He gestured to the growing tent in his jeans. “Don’t be shy now. Go’on and see if the women in the QZ are jus’ sayin’ horse shit about my size.”

You swallowed the lump growing in your throat as you felt his eyes burning holes in your skull from how harshly he was staring you down. Your hands quivered under his gaze as you reached for his belt to undo it.

“Don’t act so nervous, Angel. It’s just a cock. It ain’t gonna bite ya.” He teased with a chuckle. You could visibly see his hardened cock twitch under the confines.

You undid his belt before looping your fingers through the faded fabric and tugged them down swiftly over his ass and thighs.

You saw the sheer size and the girth of him through the tight fabric of his briefs as his own hand reached down to palm himself through the fabric.

“Holy shit.” You whispered in awe as your jaw fell open.

How in the hell is that supposed to fit?

He seemed to be reading your mind as his hand that was palming himself reached for your own and placed it under his. “We’ll make it fit, baby. Don’tcha worry your pretty little head about that. Although, maybe now is a good time to take back that little comment you made, hmm?”

Your own fingers dragged across the stiff outline of his cock as your eyes flitted upwards to meet his gaze. “I take it back.”

“Take back what?” He pressed.

“Sayin’ that you probably have a small dick.” You spoke quietly through the thick rising tension between you.

“Atta girl. See, that wasn’t so hard, huh? Still need’ya to take it out for me, Angel. Gettin’ awfully painful for me.” He hissed between his teeth when your hands finally grasped the waistband of his briefs and tugged them down. His cock sprang up freely against his taut stomach. The tip was gleaming with a bead of precum that was weeping from the slit.

“Well, it ain’t gonna suck itself, girlie. Get to it” he gruffly requested as he placed one hand along the back of your head and nudged you forward towards his cock.

For a brief moment you thought about just biting his dick off right then and there. Sorry, the voices. You just didn’t want to seem too excited. The FEDRA officer you recently fucked had nothing on Joel Miller’s cock. That was for damn sure.

Your glassy eyes stayed locked on his darkened ones as you stuck your tongue out and gave the tip of his cock a light kitten lick. He must have not been too pleased with it because his grip around your head tightened as he yanked your head upwards.

“Suck now, Or you ain’t gettin’ shit in return. We clear?” He asked you sternly with his eyes narrowed into slits.

“Crystal.” You mumbled in response before wrapping your palm around the base of his length and gave it a few slow tugs. When you finally obeyed, and he felt the wet heat of your mouth engulfing his weeping tip, his shoulders slumped as he inhaled a shaky breath.

“Shit—yeah. There ya go. See, that ain’t so hard? Fuck—that’s good, Angel.” He praised you from above as his hand loosened its grip around your head for a millisecond.

You relaxed your jaw on instinct to slowly inch your mouth further around him. The girth of his cock was stretching your mouth further than it had ever been stretched. Drool mixed with precum dribbled down your chin as fresh tears sprung to your eyes. You truly weren’t sure how you were supposed to fit all of him.

Joel didn’t want to admit it outloud, but seeing you sitting so pretty on your knees, mouth stuffed with his cock, and little tears leaking from your watery eyes, he never thought you looked so beautiful.

“That’s it, Angel. Relax a little more. Convince me that you’re actually enjoyin’ this. C’mon. Ain’t you a bit of an actress after all?” He chuckled.

Your hands found purchase around his bare muscular thighs as you tried to push yourself back for a gulping of air. Joel didn’t allow you the pleasure however as his hand was still firmly holding your head in place. You let out a sound that was nothing short of frustration before the tip of his cock pressed against the back of your throat, igniting your gag reflex to kick in.

Joel loved it.

His eyes rolled back when your throat clenched around him like a fist. His nails scraped lightly at your scalp as he threw his head back. He had received many blowjobs in his lifetime, but most women couldn’t take him all in. But once again, you proved Joel Miller wrong.

Feeling rather pleased with your work on him, Joel finally allowed you that breath of air that you so desperately needed as he removed his hand from your head. You immediately pushed yourself back off his thighs as his cock slipped out of your mouth with a light pop. You coughed a few times, gasping as a string of saliva hung from the tip of his cock all the way to your lips.

Before you could fully recover, his warm calloused palms were wrapped around your forearms and yanking you up from the faded tile floor hastily. He proceeded to wipe away your tears as his cock, still very much hard, twitched between you.

“Remember, Angel. You’re the one that showed up to my apartment like the cheap, bratty, beggin’ whore that you are. You asked for this. Y’wanna leave? Doors right there. I won’t stop you.” His thumb brushed the spot just below your eye.

You shook your head immediately. If it wasn’t for the constant tingle that simmered between your thighs, you probably would have hightailed out of there.

His smirk was nothing short of proud as he pressed a soft kiss to your forehead.

“Very good, Angel. Very good. I’m testin’ you, and you’re passing with flying colors. Got your listenin’ ears on and everythin.’ Y’know what happens when you’re a good girl? Y’get rewarded. And I’m feelin’ mighty generous..so in the next five seconds you’re gonna take your pretty ass on over to the couch, you’re gonna strip down and bend over the side of it. Y’got that?”

You nodded as your hands already dropped to the hem of your shirt, fingers playing with the frayed ends. “Yes, sir.”

He patted your cheek affectionately before he stalked off to his room. You could hear him counting down from five as you scrambled to discard your shirt and tug your jeans down over your thighs. Your pulse quickened as you made your way over to the couch and bent over the side of it. You shouldn’t have felt this excited, but Joel Miller truly did bring the inner whore in you out to play.

His footsteps were heavy and audible just as you were reaching for the waistband of your faded panties to drag them down your legs.

“Ah. I’m sorry, Angel. Was five seconds not enough for ya?” He tuts softly under his breath. His footsteps hold a slight swagger as you feel the heat of his body simmering on your bare skin. His hand rests along the back of your thighs before slowly dragging upwards. He grabs a handful of your ass, squeezing and kneading the flesh as your covered pussy clenches around air. “Didn’t give ya enough time to take these off, hmm?” He hummed under his breath as he dragged his thumb across your covered core, applying the tiniest of pressure.

“Joel,” you whimper with a sharp breath when you the pad of his thumb pressing against you. “I’m—sorry, sir.”

“Sorry?” He sounds slightly confused at your apology. You can’t see his face, but you imagine his head cocking to the side as he gazes down at you like a starved man salivating at the wet patch that pools in the fabric of your thin panties. “Honey, this ain’t nothin’ you gotta be sorry for.” He reassures you as his head dips down.

You can feel his wiry, coarse beard scraping gently at the base of your spine. His lips on your searing skin are wet, hot, and inviting as he begins to leave open mouth kisses all the way up to the spot between your shoulder blades. You feel both of his massive hands prying your cheeks apart, followed by the slick length of his cock sliding through your covered folds.

He grunts directly into your ear as the sheer mass of his body conceals you like a cloak. He’s so fucking big. It's suffocating, almost. Being enveloped by a man such as him. Your thighs rubbed together to relieve the ache between them.

Can he just get on with it already?

“Now, Angel. I’m gonna fuck this pretty little cunt of yours till your legs shake. Till that stupid FEDRA officers come doesn’t even fuckin’ exist anymore. You’re gonna scream my name, and you’re gonna let every single one of my goddamn neighbors in this shit hole apartment know jus’ who’s fuckin’ you so well. Hell, maybe even that FEDRA fuck will be able to hear you from outside. You’re gonna scream and cum, like the dirty, obedient, little cockslut that you are.” He growled before bringing his palm down against your ass with a harsh, stinging slap that sent your back arching.

“And maybe, if you do as your told, and you milk my cock fuckin’ dry, I’ll treat you like a princess. Food. Shelter. A cock to keep you warm at night? Soft touches. Kisses. The comfort that I know you so desperately fuckin’ seek. All of that, and more can be yours, Angel. You jus’ have to be good and do as your told.” His teeth scraped the outer shell of your ear before he bit down on the thin skin harshly between his teeth. His thumbs looped between the waistband of your panties before he yanked them down to your ankles swiftly.

“Joel, that’s not what—” you tried to speak and get a few words in. But this was his show, not yours.

“That’s not what, Angel? That’s not what you want? Oh, please. Let’s not start this off by lyin’ to me. You showed up here tonight because you were seekin’ somethin’ I offered. I know how that brain of yours works, little girl. Y’sure can run that mouth of yours, but you and I both know that you’re fuckin’ helpless. Those men in the alley would have killed you if it weren’t for me. They would have torn you to shreds had I not stepped in. Say it, Angel. Say that I saved you.” He snarled unkindly as his freehand slipped around to your mouth. He pressed a kiss to your throat, right where he could feel your pulse quicken. “Spit.” He commanded you.

You shamelessly spit of glob of saliva right into the palm of his hand just like you were told.

His annoyance was prevalent when you didn't bother to answer his demand for you to admit that he saved you. Your blood was pumping in your veins and your heart was beating because of him.

You felt an unpleasant chill roll down every vertebrae in your spine when he didn’t praise you for spitting into his hand like a good girl. You tried to turn your head to the side to see what exactly it was that he was doing, but he didn’t give you that satisfaction. Oh, no. He wasn’t going to give that to you.

You went to open your mouth, to tell him just what he wanted to hear, but your words were muffled as he shoved your face right into the couch cushion. His hand encaged your head while the other slipped back between your nearly connected bodies. He used your saliva as lubricant as he fisted the heavy weight of his cock a few times.

Your body lurched forward when you felt the head of his cock pressing into your glistening hole. He was barely notched inside your cunt, and you were already trying to crawl away. He was too much.

He tuts with a disappointed sigh, shaking his head tightly. “Y’wanted this, remember?” He almost sounds pitiful. Almost. “Can’t exactly fuck this tight little hole if you ain’t holdin’ still, Angel.”

“Joel—it’s too. Fuck. It’s too much.” You whine pathetically as your nails dig into the worn fabric on the couch cushions.

“Too much for a fuckin’ cockslut like you? Shut the fuck up and take it.” He hissed between his teeth. “Just fuckin’ relax and quit bein’ so stiff. I’m tryin’ to make this an enjoyable experience for the both of us!” He snapped cruelly. He dropped his hand from around your head and opted to wrap his arm around your middle, yanking you back against his hips as he sank further into your heat.

“Actin’ like your pussy doesn’t want this, baby? She’s huggin’ me so fuckin’ tight already. She’s pullin’ me right on in. S’like she’s takin’ my cock fuckin’ home.” He groaned deeply as he bottomed out. Filling you to the fucking brim. His cock felt like it was splitting you in two, right down the middle. His chest was firmly pressed down against your back as he rolled his hips forward.

A strangled moan crawled up your throat as you found yourself fucking yourself around his cock. Showing him that you could in fact play the role. Be the actress. Milk him dry just as he requested.

“Joeeel.” You moaned wantonly with your cheek pressed firmly against the scratchy fabric of the cushions. Your tears had long since dried in a salty cavern along your cheekbones.

“That’s it, Angel. That’s a good fuckin’ girl. See, I told you I can fuckin’ treat you well.” He grunted praisingly as his lips found their way to your neck once more. He sucked, licked, kissed on your sweat-slicked skin as he pulled his hips back before jutting them forward once more. He set a deliciously deep and urgent pace as he fucked into you. “Don’t think for a second that I’m—-fuckin’ lettin’ you off the hook so easily, Angel. Y’still gotta tell me who saved you. Who saved your fuckin’ life!” His teeth grazed the thin, breakable skin along the column of your throat. He bit down harshly, drawing blood to the surface as he sucked on the entry wound that he created. A marking of dominance. Possession. The carnal need to own you.

The coil in your stomach tightened and pulled as your orgasm quickly approached. You liked it. You liked being fucked like the cockslut that you truly were. With each harsh thrust of his hips, the weight of his balls slapping against your skin, you cried out his name in a cock-drunk stupor.

Joel. Joel. Joel.

“Not the FEDRA officer fuck, right? Did he fuckin’ save your skin?! Huh?! No, Angel. He didn’t. Bet he woulda taken the opportunity to kill you, Angel. I bet they all fuckin’ would! Every last goddamn rotten, son-of-a-bitch sick fuck left in this shithole would jump at the opportunity to spill your blood on the streets below, Angel. Not me! Not Joel. Why do you think that, Angel? Why do you think I’d never let anyone hurt you?”

Your pussy clenched down around his cock as your strangled cries fell freely through your parted lips. Your back arched to meet his relentless thrusts.

“Because—because you own me, Joel!”

Maybe it was the endorphins coursing through your veins. Maybe it was the way Joel Miller’s cock continued to hit the spongy spot inside of you with every heavy thrust of his hips. Maybe it was the way he spoke to you. Or the way his body shielded yours with sheer strength. Maybe it was everything combined. In your cockdrunk haze, you wanted to be owned by this man.

“Yes, Angel. That’s right. I do fuckin’ own you. I own your body. This pussy. That smart mouth of yours. I own the come that drips between your thighs. I own your screams. I own your thoughts. Your feelings. Your likes and dislikes. I own every fuckin’ part of your being.” He growled possessively as his thighs and yours began to quiver. As his cock began to twitch, and your tight cunt began to pulse like a heartbeat.

“You own me, and I own you.”

He didn’t disagree. He didn’t argue as the cries of his name falling from your tongue mixed with his own heavy grunts.

Angel. Angel. Angel.

As he shot hot ropes of his seed into your fucked out hole, you milked him of every last drop, and as he slipped out, you could feel a mixture of his and your come dripping down between your thighs.

You could feel his heartbeat against your back as his breaths came out as hot puffs across your clammy skin. His cock softened against his thigh. Glistening in yours and his come. Your eyes fluttered shut as the post orgasm haze swept over you.

You felt two strong arms gently pulling you up as your head fell back against his strong shoulder. He held you securely against him. All you could hear was his heart beat and your intermingle breaths.

“Did you really go and fuck that FEDRA officer before you showed up here, Angel?” He asked softly while the pads of his thumbs rubbed soothing circles against your hips.

“No.” You admitted. “I didn’t.”

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