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cowboymarcs · 4 months ago

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weather the storm // j. miller

this fic was a labour of love, heavily inspired by the SHIT weather down here in australia. it's hot, and humid, and damp as hell. sending love from the fiery bog, i guess. this started out cosy and wholesome, but then gets a bit horny towards the end, but i hope you guys enjoy regardless. you can picture show or game joel, up to you. the pictures are purely for the vibes. - clarke xx

warnings: 18+ only. established joel x reader. smut. afab!reader, no mention of pronouns. swearing. p in v sex. apocalypse birth control (pulling out and praying. make sure to wrap it up irl.)

The rain had not eased in days; an endless deluge that soaked into the soil, leaving it swollen and muddy. The boots on your stoop were coated with dried muck and clumps of grass, and one pair was noticeably missing.

Stepping out onto the sheltered porch, wrapped in an old, knitted blanket, you breathed in the wet, earthen scent of petrichor. The sun had risen, visible and bright for the first time in a week, but clouds that rumbled like a hungry beast lingered on the horizon. You’d enjoy the sun while it lasted.

With a sigh, you went back inside and swapped your blanket for an apron, securing it at your waist. Just as you were setting out everything you needed to make a few loaves of bread after breakfast, Ellie came down the stairs, rubbing her eyes. Her dark hair stuck up at odd angles, messy from sleep, and she stifled a yawn as she plodded into the kitchen.

“Hi, Els,” you whispered, huffing a gentle laugh at her bleary-eyed stare as you attempted to flatten her hair. “You sleep okay?”

A noncommittal grunt was her only answer as she burrowed further into her sweater, (one of Joel’s, you noticed with a smile.)

“Why don’t you go grab your brush, and I can try to sort this out,” you said, gently ushering her back upstairs. “Then I’ll make us some breakfast, hm?”

Ellie nodded, moving sluggishly up the steps, sliding her hand along the polished wooden railing, feet scuffing against the faded, threadbare carpet.

Joel found the two of you in the living room a few minutes later, tired from the overnight border patrol. His boots were back in their designated spot outside the door, and an unfamiliar warmth sparked in his chest as he watched you. Leaning against the doorframe, arms folded, he watched as you ran the brush through Ellie’s hair, taking care to untangle the knots.

Despite the frown on her face, he knew Ellie was comforted by the gentleness. She wouldn’t talk much about how she felt, but he knew her fear, her lingering sorrow, all too well, and Joel couldn’t imagine how much harder it would be to deal with at her age. So, to see her like this, eyes closed as you twisted her hair into a low bun. To see Ellie letting somebody else do something for her, when she’d spent so long forced into independence…

It made Joel realise that maybe, despite the state of the world, that she’d be alright. Ellie had him and, if he believed in miracles anymore he would’ve thought it was one, she had you.

They both had you.

“Mornin’,” he murmured once you noticed him, a soft expression on his face which he hoped hid the weariness. His knuckles brushed against yours as he followed you down the hall to the kitchen, breathing in the faint scent of soap that clung to your clothes. The same subtle scent that lingered on his bedsheets and, sometimes, along the collar of his jacket after you borrowed it.

He kissed your cheek when you stopped at the stove, his hands resting on your hips as you cracked a few eggs into the old iron skillet. Ellie, who had bounded through the archway only moments after you, made a sound akin to dramatic disgust.

Stifling a laugh, Joel wandered over to sit at the dining table with her. Ellie rambled about her plans for the day, something about helping out at the stables with Tommy.

“Well, don’t go about causin’ trouble,” Joel chided, one eyebrow cocked. Ellie just rolled her eyes.

The burner click-click-clicked as you turned it on, putting the kettle onto boil.

“Coffee?” Joel inquired, turning stiffly in his chair to look over at you.

“No, that stuff ain’t good for your heart, old man,” you said, fixing him with a loving, but stern stare as you set mugs and plates along the counter. Despite his grumbling, Joel knew it was for his own good. Especially when he was meant to sleep for the next couple of hours.

“Els? Can you go grab some chives from the garden for me?” You asked, handing her a small pair of shears. “Just a little bit, for the eggs.”

You plated up the eggs and toast while she was outside, watching the steam rise from the food in cloudy tendrils, lit by the sunlight streaming through the window. Just as you were spooning a dollop of tomato chutney onto the side of Joel’s plate, Ellie returned with the greens and rinsed them in the sink. You let her garnish, and she took a quiet pride in it.

“Cutlery, please,” you mentioned with a soft smile in Ellie’s direction, and Joel set about pouring and straining the tea. It was a tight fit, having the three of you crowding the small kitchen, but it was… warm. Homely. As close to normalcy, to family, as you could get these days. And when breakfast was laid out on the table, positioned perfectly in front of the window, shutters thrown wide, you dined in the morning light as warmth seeped into the house.

A short while later, with the dirty dishes stacked by the sink, you bade Ellie farewell for the day. You sent her off with a few snacks for later, and the pair of Tommy’s jeans that you’d mended for him, so she could return them.

With Ellie gone, Joel could finally give you a proper greeting. His kiss was sweet and long and slow, one of his warm hands rested firmly on the small of your back. Unhurried and gentle, you threaded your hands into his hair, cupping the back of his neck.

“Patrol go alright?” You asked quietly as he pulled away.

He nodded, stealing another quick kiss, simply because he could. He brushed his thumb over the softness of your cheek, momentarily distracted, but his gaze locked on yours when you cupped his face.

“You head up to bed, okay?” Your voice was quiet as you rested your forehead against his, noses touching. “I’ll wake you up at midday.”

“Alright, darlin’,” he murmured, shrugging out of his jacket with a quiet groan. It took more effort than usual, and Joel immediately wished he’d waited until he was upstairs to take it off when he saw the concern on your face.

“Joel–”

“M’alright,” though the grit of his teeth told another story.

“Joel,” you chided, a little firmer this time, hands planted on your hips.

With a sigh, his head dropped, eyebrows pinched. “S’just my shoulder, nothing I can’t handle.”

Shaking your head, you ushered him upstairs and into the bathroom. Grabbing a screw-top jar from the cupboard, you pressed it into his hands.

“This should help, it’s an organic pain-relieving balm.”

At Joel’s incredulous look, you rolled your eyes with an exaggerated huff. “Maria made it, it will help. It helped Ellie when she twisted her ankle the other week.”

Joel still wasn’t sure, especially not as he unscrewed the lid and cautiously sniffed the thick, honey-coloured paste within, pulling back with a grimace.

“Stubborn, stubborn man,” you muttered, taking the jar from him, scooping some of the balm into your hand. “Turn around, take your shirt off.”

He did as you asked, accepting your assistance in tugging the fabric over his head. His shoulder wasn’t noticeably hurt, no bruising or redness, but it looked a little swollen. As you rubbed the balm into his skin, you almost swore at the tension in his muscles. Working your way across his back, to his other shoulder then down his spine, all you found were knots.

“How do you walk around like this, Joel? Christ.” You tutted.

Joel shrugged, muttering an apology that was cut off by a groan as you dug your thumbs into a particularly stubborn knot at the base of his spine, just above the waistband of his jeans.

“Alright, go on,” you murmured once you were done, pressing a kiss to the side of his neck as he turned back around. “Bed.”

He huffed a quiet laugh, resting his hands on your hips and kissing you properly. Once, twice, before you swatted him away, mock defiance on your face, despite the hitch in your breath.

“I’ll wake you up in a few hours. You need rest.”

You led him to the bedroom, closing the curtains while he took his jeans off and eased into bed. The old mattress groaned beneath his weight, and he let out a gruff sigh as he settled down, pulling the blankets over his weary body.

“Sleep,” was all you said, a whisper against his brow as you kissed his forehead.

“Fine,” he grunted, nestling deeper into the cushions.

---

A few hours later, midday came with the return of thunder and rain. So much for the sunlight you’d basked in that morning.

With Joel’s favourite mug in hand, you crept up the stairs, making sure to avoid the one that creaked. Despite your best efforts, Joel heard you coming, and his bleary-eyed gaze was on you as soon as you stepped into the bedroom. Years of constant vigilance did not easily fade.

“Hey, darlin’,” he murmured, huffing contentedly as you set the mug on the bedside table and slid beneath the blankets with him. He drew you in, wrapping an arm around your waist, and buried his face in the crook of his neck.

“I made coffee,” you whispered into his hair. “Just one cup, for us to share.”

Joel just hummed, more than content to go back to sleep, but a cold breeze swept through the open window and the strong scent of fresh coffee wafted over to him. With a groan, he sat up, adjusting the pillows so he could lean back against the wrought-iron bedframe.

You grabbed the mug, still steaming, and took a cautious sip before handing it to him. The two of you sat there, curled up in bed, sharing coffee and watching the storm.

“Ellie alright?” Joel asked, unable to hear any sign of her from downstairs.

“Yeah, she dropped by before the storm started to let me know they were setting up a movie in the hall.”

Nodding, that constant, quiet worry in his heart when it came to the mischievous teenager eased a fraction.

With the coffee drained to its dregs and rain lashing against the windowpane, you nestled closer to Joel. His warmth seeped through you, warming you to the bone, and you sighed.

“Sweetheart,” came his voice, soft and gravelly, so quiet it was almost swallowed up by a roar of thunder.

“Yeah?”

“C’mere.”

Your gaze flicked up to meet his, hand stilling on his chest where you’d been tracing absent-minded patterns in the coarse smattering of hair there. With a soft smile, you sat up, graciously taking his offered hand, keeping you steady as you moved to straddle him.

He reached up to cup your face, tracing his thumb over the curve of your cheek, the softness of your bottom lip. Lightning flashed outside, haloing you in pale light, limning your body with silver.

“Beautiful,” he murmured to himself as he pulled you close, warm hands heavy on your waist, until your chest pressed against his. Foreheads touching, he ran his fingers down your spine, slipping them beneath your shirt on the way back up. “So damn beautiful.”

You sighed into his mouth when he kissed you, melting under his honeyed touch; slow and sweet. It was nice to be here, with him, just the two of you. Nowadays, shared moments were sparse. There was always work to be done in Jackson.

But here, with the storm raging outside, finally there was peace.

You barely registered getting undressed, only that the moments you spent away from him to tug your pants and shirt off were too long. His boxers stretched and strained against the soft thickness of his thighs, and you leaned down to press a kiss to his hip as you pulled them off. Discarding the fabric on the bedroom floor, you climbed back into his lap, skin on skin.

His touch was warm and gentle, exploratory. Drifting from your hips to your waist to your chest, you sighed at the whisper-soft scrape of his fingertips down your spine. He mapped you out by touch alone, his gaze locked on yours. His brown eyes were heavy-lidded, swirling with desire and adoration, and you just let him stare.

With anybody else, you would’ve shied away. But not with him. Not with Joel.

Your Joel.

It felt strange to consider someone as yours when the idea of permanence was revoked as the world ended. And you felt… selfish. Selfish for claiming a little light on a dark landscape, but… If selfishness meant you knew the assurance in his touch, the safety in his embrace, then you’d take it and run. So be it.

Just this once, you had something for yourself.

Joel’s name was a hoarse exhale from your lips as his fingers found the wet heat between your thighs, dipping into you with a gentle desperation. He groaned as your arousal dripped down over his knuckles, and the sound made your breath hitch. And when he brought his fingers to his mouth and sucked them clean, your head fell back, gaze hitting the ceiling as a strangled plea tore from the back of your throat.

His cock lay hot and heavy against your inner thigh, and you rocked your hips over it. Once, twice, until the sticky strings of your arousal coated the shaft, and when the head notched in your opening, you let out a whimper.

Lifting yourself just enough that Joel could grip the base of his cock, you grabbed his shoulders as he lined himself up with your entrance. Then, once he’d guided the tip into you, his hands found your waist to keep you steady as you sunk down on him. Taking it slow, accommodating to the slight stretch inch-by-inch, you gasped at the familiar girth of him.

“Fuck,” he breathed through gritted teeth as he bottomed out, the tight warmth of you squeezing around his length. “There you go, baby. Takin’ it all, y’feel so good.”

For a moment, the two of you didn’t move, breathing in sync as you steadied yourself. He hit so deep like this, and it made dizzy. Then, with his hands guiding you, you rocked your hips.

“Fuckin’ perfect for me,” he groaned as you circled your hips. Your clit bumped against the coarse thatch of hair across his pubic bone with each movement, leaving you keening and breathless, one hand fisted in the sheets by his head, the other planted on his chest.

“Just like that, honey, just like that.”

His voice urged you on, drawing a fervour from the depths of your chest. Hazy desire whirled in your stomach, coiled like a spring, or a cat ready to pounce. Lightning flashed, and the glimpse of rugged ecstasy on Joel’s face through the gloom made you whimper.

Teeth gritted, brow furrowed, chest heaving; he was the picture of a man undone, halfway to losing his mind. And, by God, he looked so good like that.

The storm drowned out your desperate whines, but you leaned down so you could be chest-to-chest with Joel, so you could hear his ragged moans and staggered breaths. He used to stay quiet during sex, only an occasional grunt or quiet ‘fuck,’ but once, after you’d done something particularly wicked with your mouth, he’d let out the weakest, most desperate moan.

You’d told him it was the hottest thing you’d ever heard, and he hadn’t held back since.

“Fuck, Joel,” you whimpered, clinging to him as he started to thrust up into you, meeting each gentle rock of your hips.

“That feel good, baby?”

“Ye- fuck! Yes.”

“Mhm, I gotcha.” He punctuated his words with a particularly harsh thrust, and you cried out, burying your face into the crook of his neck. “I gotcha, darlin’.”

You clenched around him moments later, the strength of your release hitting you unexpectedly. Riding it out, your hips moved of their own accord. Shuddering, you rolled to the side, moaning as Joel’s cock slid out of you.

His voice was hoarse as he swore, his soft stomach tensing as you wrapped your hand around his shaft, jerking him off until he hit his peak. His cum spurted across stomach, leaving behind a mess you’d clean up later. For now, though, you just wanted to be held.

Joel was more than happy to oblige. He panted as he came down from his high, holding you as close as he could. With your legs intertwined, the sheets wrapped around your ankles, you breathed him in.

The storm still raged, the sky impossibly dark, but every flash of lightning gave you a glimpse of the sheen of sweat on Joel’s brow, his kiss-swollen lips, a little dribble of blood on his lower lip from what must have been a particularly harsh nip from you.

“Sorry,” you whispered, wiping the blood away with your thumb. You propped yourself up on your elbow to get a better look, hoping you hadn’t hurt him too bad.

“Don’t be,” he replied, reassuring you with a gentle kiss against your forehead. “Feels good.”

Sheepish, you sunk back down into the cushions, nestled safely beside him.

---------------

thanks so much for reading <3 my inbox is open if you have anything you'd like me to write, or just want to have a chat. love love love you, thank you again <3

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cowboymarcs · 4 months ago

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my pretty girl

words: 1.9k

warnings: 18+ only, smut, p in v sex, protected sex, tit play, established relationship, fluffy

“you coming fishing?” jj asks pope, slapping him on the shoulder, not even waiting for an answer before he begins pulling him along.

“baby-” pope looks to you, and you quickly fix your face, a smile spreading over your features.

“go ahead.” you encourage him. “ive got some cleaning to do around the house anyways.” you shrug.

pope frowns. you should have known better than to attempt to hide your emotions from him, he sees so easily through you. “sorry, jay.” he steps out of his friends hold. “im staying home with y/n.”

jj sighs dramatically, tipping his head back. “fine!” he leaves the patio, grumbling something about all of his friends having girlfriends and leaving him behind.

“you can go, i don't mind.” you say softly as pope sits down on the sofa next to you.

“nope.” he shakes his head. “need some alone time with my pretty girl.”

you feel your cheeks heat up as he pulls you into his side, kisses being pressed against your head. despite dating for almost a year now, pope never fails to make you blush.

“i missed you.” you coo out, snuggling into his chest.

“yeah?” he smirks down at you. “even though it was literally less than 24 hours since i saw you last?”

“ugh, still too long.” you roll your eyes, even though you're happy pope got to spend some time with his friends, a boys night only at the chalet.

“so what cleaning do you have to do? i can help.”

“baby, i was just making something up so you wouldn't feel bad.” you giggle. “i mean, i do have laundry to put away but…”

“but you'd rather do something else?” pope questions.

“mhm…” you stand up slowly, hand squeezing around popes as you pull him inside, walking him towards your room.

“so this is what you meant by missing me?” pope laughs, shutting and locking the door behind you even though no one is home.

“hey.” you pout. “i missed you and i missed you.”

“aw, babygirl.” pope laughs gently, cupping your cheeks and pulling you into a kiss. you're instantly lost in his lips, not even realizing that pope had moved you further into the room until he's laying you down onto your bed.

“pope…” you whisper. “please.”

“i got you, baby.” he keeps his voice soft and soothing as he kisses you again, allowing you to focus on the kiss as his hands trail over your body, running his fingertips down your arms and cupping your waist, anything to touch you.

“will you-” you begin before suddenly feeling shy when pope looks down at you.

“will i what?” a smile spreads across his face. he loves when you ask him specifically for what you want, instead of just letting him take the lead and do whatever he pleases, having to guess what feels best for you.

“um…” you cover your face with your hands, only getting the confidence to say anything when you don't have to look pope in the eye. “play with my chest.”

you can't get the actual words out. breasts, boobs, tits, whatever you want to call them, and you have to settle for chest as it's the least embarrassing.

“hell yeah.” pope let's his excitement slip before calming himself, knowing how much his energy effects you.

popes large hands cup over your chest, rubbing at your breasts through your tank top and bra. pope kisses you again, but keeps them light so you can really pay attention to his palms rubbing against your nipples.

“can i take this off?” pope asks, hands moving down your stomach and disappearing underneath the hem of your shirt.

“yeah.” you nod, sitting up to allow him to pull the fabric away, leaving you in just a bra. pope has seen you naked many times before, but every time feels new and intimate with how gentle and caring he is.

“my pretty girl.” he coos out, warm brown eyes looking into yours.

pope reaches behind your back and unclips your bra after struggling with the clasp for a second, but he doesn't instantly pull it away.

he starts with the straps, slowly guiding them down your shoulders as his mouth follows with kisses, spreading goosebumps along your arms.

“pope.” you whimper out, a plea for more.

“mhm.” he hums, understanding what you're asking for as he pulls the cups down, revealing your already hard nipples.

he doesn't even wait to get your bra all the way off before his mouth latches onto your skin, tongue briefly flicking over your nipple before his plush lips wrap around the bud with a soft suck.

your hands come to his curly hair, scrunching it between your fingers as he plays with your chest using his mouth, switching back and forth to give each side equal attention.

“does that feel good?” he asks, a smile on his face. it's a rhetorical question, if the moans didn't tell him, then the blissed out look on your face would.

pope goes back to sucking on your nipple, one of his hands cupping your other breast, thumb swiping over your nipple as his other hand skirts down your stomach.

you feel your breath suck in before you even realize as he passes over the button on your shorts and delves right between your legs, cupping your pussy through the fabric.

“oh, god!” you squeal out. “pope!”

you can feel his smile against your chest as he rubs his fingers into you, pushing your already wet underwear against your cunt, focusing in on where he knows your clit is, having memorized your entire body from head to toe.

“i need you.” you whine. “come on, please.”

pope looks up at you, his gaze heated as his hand continues to rub against your core. “need me where?”

“need you…” you whisper out. “need you to fuck me.”

“that's my girl.” pope leans in and gives you a kiss. he always tries to encourage you when you manage to use your words.

pope moves so he's kneeling between your spread thighs. the first thing he does is rip his shirt off, and you ignore the urge to reach up and rub your hands against his defined muscles.

“my handsome boy.” you smile up at him, love so evident in your eyes, echoing the words he always says to you.

“love you.” pope knows his cock is straining against his shorts, and you are beyond desperate for him, but he still pauses to lean down and give you yet another kiss.

“love you too.” you coo back. it hasn't been all that long since you've made that declaration to each other, so the words still feel exciting every time they're said.

popes hands focus in on the zipper and buttons of your shorts, quickly undoing them to slide the jeans off your legs as he tosses them away.

you smile shyly as he begins to focus on getting himself the rest of the way undressed as you slip your underwear off and let them fall off the bed as you splay out.

“look at you.” pope coos, making sure to get the condom out of his pocket. despite you being on birth control, you're always extra cautious, way too young and responsible to get pregnant.

“come on.” you giggle, impatient, as he takes the condom and rips the foil, spreading the rubber over his length.

“kay, ready.” pope gets himself into position, holding himself up over top of you as he lines his cock up with your entrance.

you take a deep breath to relax your body as he pushes inside, making sure to go extra slow to allow you to adjust.

“f-fuck.” you whine, wrapping your arms around his shoulders, pulling him further into you as popes hips press all the way forward, cock buried inside of you.

“give me a minute.” you hum, shifting your hips from side to side. pope distracts himself with kissing along your jaw and neck until you give him a nod, a signal that it's alright to move.

“feel so good baby.” pope groans out, keeping his thrusts slow and steady at first.

“mmm.” you hum out, unable to actually form words in response.

popes back arches as he ducks his head to wrap his mouth around your nipple again, sucking as his hips slowly increase in pace.

you moan out, arms pressing him closer into your chest, encouragement to continue as he pumps into you, knowing neither of you can last that long.

“so warm and wet for me baby.” pope praises you, switching to the other side of your chest as the wet squelching sound spreads over the room with every movement of his cock.

“only for you.” you smile softly, glad when pope lifts his head to press a kiss against your lips.

“love you, love you, love you.” pope says, forever the soft and sweet boyfriend that you fell so deeply for.

“cum for me.” he urges you, shifting his weight to one arm to allow his other hand to drop, rubbing circles over your clit.

“oh my god!” you squeal out, head tilting back, pressing into the pillow as his fingertips work against your bud, having figured out just what you like and what touches get you there fastest.

“fuck, can feel you clenching around me.” pope gasps, hips moving faster, fucking into you with a fury that you know means he's going to cum soon.

“i-i-” you try to warn pope, but the words dissolve into moans as your orgasm hits you, high washing over your body as your legs shake, the tightening of your pussy causing pope to cum as well, pushing his hips forward to cum as deeply inside of you as possible, even if he is sheathed with a condom.

“fuck! baby!” pope shouts out, a few final thrusts before he pulls out, collapsing against the bed next to you.

“oh my god.” you giggle, legs snapping closed to cover the mess between your thighs as your hands come to your face, hiding your bright red cheeks from pope.

“you're so cute.” pope kisses over top of your hands before standing up and heading to the bathroom to discard his condom, coming back with a warm wet washcloth.

you keep your face covered as he cleans you up, always feeling a little shy right after sex.

“hey.” pope pokes you.

you put your hands down, a soft smile on your face as he hands you your clothes to put back on. despite knowing no one will be home for many more hours, you don't like to risk getting caught by hanging around naked.

you both get dressed quickly before you wrap your arms around popes shoulders, tucking your head into his neck.

“thank you.” you whisper. “that was really, really, really, good.”

“always happy to help.” pope laughs, reaching down to pick you up, your legs wrapping around his waist as he carries you through the house, back towards the patio to continue relaxing.

“ah, so that's why you didn't go fishing.”

“jj!” you squeal, jumping out of popes arms.

“what? john b was busy with sarah so i came back here. y'all are loud by the way.” jj shrugs.

“dude, im going to kill you.” pope says, rushing after jj as your laughter spreads throughout the backyard, watching your boyfriend chase his friend through the grass.

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