sultrycitron

[sultrycitron]

SIR??

[sultrycitron]

--- turn me to ashes

no-outbreak!joel miller x babysitter!reader

summary: Joel catches you with a cigarette.

warning(s): shameless smut, D/s sexual dynamics, power imbalance due to employment (babysitter), implied age gap (reader in her twenties), pre-established relationship (D/s and fwb), consent is sexy MANDATORY, unprotected piv, rough sex, manhandling, spanking as a punishment, impact play (leather belt), fingering, choking, subspace, SWEET SWEET AFTERCARE, able bodied reader, joel can carry reader because he's a big man, dom!joel miller + soft!joel miller, soft cuddles following rough sex just because

wc: 3.2k

a/n: heyyyyyy... how y'all doin'..... can be read on its own, or can be read after taking care !!

diet mountain dew -> take another drag, turn me to ashes

gracie's masterlist

---

You didn’t mean for Joel to catch you with the cigarette. 

But delight curled in your stomach when he found you in his backyard, the blowing smoke into the warm night. 

He was pissed. That much was obvious. You didn’t even bother hiding the cigarette behind your back, because his eyes fixated on it between your fingertips. 

In truth, the day had been complete shit. Class after class, roommates causing drama, your other job breathing down your neck, putting on a bright smile for Sarah despite the heaviness of anxiety slung across your shoulders… you were desperate for a reprieve. Desperate for a firm hand. Desperate for a reminder of who you belonged to. 

So, the cigarette. And Joel. 

“What the fuck are you doin’,” he drawled, voice low and warning. You’d never seen him this heated. 

You take another drag leisurely, and give him a shy smile. “Didn’t wanna stink up your house.” “Hm.” Joel stalked towards you, still in his work boots and jeans, his white work shirt stained with dust and grime. He looked tough, and dirty, and you wanted to sink to your knees when he cocked his head. “Wanna tell me what that is?”

You flick some ash into the dirt, bringing the cigarette to your lips for a drag. “I think you’ve seen one before, Joel–”

As quick as a snake, Joel’s rough hand wrapped around your wrist, pulling your chest to his with an assured jerk of your arm. 

The cigarette smoldered between you, poised for your lips, but was held firm by Joel’s grip on you. The anger in his eyes made your chest pang with anticipation, and your stomach curled with bratty defiance.  

“Don’t want to be my smoking buddy?” You asked innocently, batting your eyes at him over the burning stub. You smiled, feeling brash. “What about Tommy?”

His eyes flared, and you smirked, knowing you had him. He’d complained about his brother’s bad habit more than once. 

“Think he’d be my smoking buddy?”

In an instant, Joel grabbed the cigarette from between your fingers, stomping it out in the dirt under his dirty boot. He gripped your arm firmly, and dragged you towards the house. 

You made the mistake of giggling as he pushed you through the back door, the cool air conditioning sending chills down your sweaty skin. 

Joel grunted at your amusement. “Laughin’ hard for a girl about to get her face fucked.”

You turned to face him as you walked backward, making a pouty face. “Are you mad at me? It was just a little cigarette, Mr. Miller–” The hand that wrapped around your throat, pinning you to the nearest wall with a thud, didn’t even register until blood rushed to your head. Desire sparked in your core, and you bit your lip to keep from grinning like an idiot.

“Maybe I should call my brother, let him use you for a bit until you’re beggin’ for me to come save you,” Joel growled, his breath hot in your face. “Let him have his fun before we start callin’ dibs on your holes.”

The vulgar thought sent chills down your spine, arousal blooming in your stomach as the fantasy took root. You nearly whined at his words, at the notion of being between two men such as the Miller brothers. At them sharing you. 

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Joel murmured, peering into your eyes for signs of fear. Instead, he found only want. “Lettin’ two men play with you for a while?”

His free hand dug underneath the waistband of your shorts, the swipe of his fingers at your wet core evidence of your wicked desire for him and his brother. 

Joel chuckled, and brought your arousal to his lips, cleaning off his fingers with a satisfied pop!

Letting go of your neck, Joel ducked to your waist, slinging you over his shoulder with one easy lift. 

Bent at the torso, and gripping Joel’s shirt to steady yourself, there wasn’t a lot you could do as he carried you through his home, and up his stairs. 

It was like you were filled with air, the ease at which he carried you. Through his white shirt, his back muscles clenched and tightened, but he hauled you upstairs with the determination of a man on a mission. 

Your core gushed at the rough handling. 

Joel crossed through his doorway with you over his shoulder in moments, throwing you onto the bed unceremoniously. He gripped the waistband of your shorts with both hands, pulling them down with a fierce yank. 

You moaned as the air conditioning hit your bare cunt, and Joel silenced you with a precise slap to your folds. 

Nearly snarling, Joel flipped you onto your stomach, and gripped your hips to bend you at will. At his handling, your ass and pussy were high in the air, and your upper body pressed into his pillows. You shivered at the exposure, feeling his eyes boring into your skin. 

“Tell me to stop if you need, baby,” he said, his voice low. Not seductive, but serious. “Tell me to stop, and I stop. No questions asked. But until then…”

You nodded into his pillow, still held to the bed by his hand. “I’ll tell you to stop, Joel.”

“Good girl,” he praised. 

The spank that came down onto your ass was punishing, and brutal. You yelped at the initial sting, and sighed as the pain dwindled into burning pleasure. 

“I wasn’t gonna punish you for the cigarette, baby.” Another slap stung your skin. “I’ve had a few in my day, why would I punish you for that?” Another slap. “I was gonna give you a few orgasms, take the box from your purse, be all sweet about it.” Another slap. “But you started mouthin’.” 

Joel landed a spank onto your exposed cunt, and you bit down into the cloth of his pillow to keep from crying out in delicious pain. 

“Good girls don’t mouth off, baby, you know that.” Another slap to your ass. “Askin’ after my brother like he could ever make you feel like this.” Another slap. “No, no, mouthy brats that forget their place don’t get sweet orgasms and easy forgiveness.”

Another spank to your cunt had tears dripping from your eyes, and delighted shrieks absorbed by his mattress. “Aw, you cryin’? That’s good.”

Joel shoved two fingers into your soaked, stinging pussy, pulling a long moan from your lips. It was too much, too tight… but that wasn’t for you to decide. 

“You know what happens to brats, baby?” Joel sneered, hooking his fingers against your g-spot. 

You whined at the rough treatment, what you’ve been craving all day. “Pun…ished. Brats–” he twisted his fingers against your spongy core, and you lose all sense of speech. 

Joel chuckled with wicked condescension. “All it takes, huh? God, you’re easy. What happens to brats again?”

You barely managed to breathe a reply. “Brats… get punished.”

Joel laid a spank to your bare ass in response, and you bit down into his pillow to stifle your cries. “Yes, they do. And you’ve been a fuckin’ brat.”

Joel pulls his fingers from you roughly, and anticipation floods you as you hear him fumble around with his belt, pulling it from his denim loops. 

The light hit of the leather to your ass was painless, but had you flinching at the impact. Joel’s words were quiet, knowing you hung onto every word without even asking. 

“This alright, baby? This punishment…”

“Please, Joel,” you breathed, trembling with want. “Please, I need it so bad, need you…”

Joel hummed in acknowledgement. “Gonna give you five. Count each one, or I start over.”

He didn’t wait to see if you heard him. 

The crack of leather across your ass was stinging, and painful, and had your core flooding with need. You whined into his pillow, tears streaming down your cheeks. “One.”

“Good girl.” The belt came down a second time, right on the fleshiest part of your ass. You cried out in pain, and want, and desperation for more. 

“T-two.” The word was moaned. Joel laid two more strikes in quick succession, making you cock your hips higher into the air as your skin became red and sensitive. The odd mix of pain and pleasure had your pussy dripping. 

As tears leaked from your eyes onto the sheets, a light spank of the belt to your exposed cunt had you nearly shrieking. Joel’s voice was heavy with dominance. “How many, baby?”

“Three and four!” Your voice was high-pitched.

“‘Atta girl, takin’ your punishment so well. One more, and I’ll give you my cock, okay?”

Swallowing, you presented your ass to him openly, taking a deep breath. “Okay.”

The last strike was the hardest, and you bit down into the pillow to stifle the near-scream that ripped from your throat at the impact. Still, your cunt was swollen with desire, and you wondered if there was anything you wouldn’t do to get Joel to put his cock–

His tip traced up and down your wet folds, pulling a guttural moan from your lips as the blunt head nudged your neglected clit. 

“Please, please, please–” you babbled, nearly sobbing. 

“I gotcha, baby,” Joel groaned, and flipped you onto your back with a firm hand on your thigh. 

Between your spread legs, Joel tore off his shirt and jeans, and you spied the precum staining his briefs before he took those off, too. His gaze on you was hungry, like he wanted to sink his teeth into your skin. 

Gently, Joel slipped his rough hands beneath your clammy t-shirt, pulling the fabric from you like your skin was fragile as porcelain. It was such a contrast to his rough handling just a few moments ago, where he punished you with the fuzzy line between pain and pleasure. Now, he was sure in his movements, but entirely softened in demeanor despite his aching length.

Your bra came off a moment later, and Joel’s eyes traced your hardened nipples with heat, but made no move to touch them. 

Instead, he held your legs up against your chest as he positioned his cock against your aching cunt, his dark eyes locking onto yours as he sank into your heat. 

A high pitched moan escaped you as you stretched around him, and he moved slowly, giving you time to adjust. He didn’t pull himself back, knowing you could take it. Knowing you needed to take it. 

“Joel,” you whimpered, and he leaned over you, his fingertips brushing hair from your eyes gently. 

“You can take it,” he assured you, sinking deeper as you arched into him. “You take it so well, everything I give you, because you’re so good for me.”

The praise had your cunt fluttering around his cock, and another inch of him found room inside of you. Joel’s groans of pleasure were like music to your ears, his breath warm against your face. 

A haziness filled you, your body feeling as if it were in a dream. Light, and floating, focused solely on the man that bottomed out with a deep moan of your name, accented by a warm Southern drawl. 

You could only whisper his name as he laid his palm against your throat, holding you still as he moved inside of you. 

“So good for me, always so fuckin’ good,” he breathed against your ear, his thumb pressing against the pulse of your neck. He pulled his hips back slowly, and thrusted forward with dominating strength. 

Your head craned back at the force, and Joel found a steady rhythm, deep and hard, like he valued the joining of your bodies more than a speedy orgasm. 

Joel held to your throat firmly, peering into your face as your eyes rolled back into your skull. A dark smirk crossed his lips, and he pinned your head to the side with a nudge under your jaw. 

With your head tilted, and his cock reaching spots inside of you he’d never found before, Joel licked a long stripe up from your collarbone to your ear, just to savor the taste of you on his tongue. 

Your cunt clenched around him, high-pitched sighs leaving your lips, and he chuckled against your skin. “Gonna come, baby? Gotta ask permission.”

“Please, Joel, please, let me come… I need it so badly, please,” you whimpered, keening into his cock stretching you open, into his hand squeezing your throat. 

Joel placed a soft kiss on your cheek, like a sweet lover. “Come.”

With a gush, your cunt clenched his cock desperately, moans escaping your lips freely as your orgasm flooded over you. Any sound seemed muffled, like you were held underwater, and your vision was blinded with pleasure. Distantly, you felt Joel speeding up his thrusts, nailing into your spent cunt selfishly. It stung against your bruised ass, only heightening the sensation of your core pulsing around him. 

Joel held firm to your throat as he came deep within you, warmth blossoming in your lower belly. His groans cut through the fog that the pleasure clouded you with, satisfaction curling in your chest. A satisfaction that you did what he wanted, and he gave you what you needed. 

For several moments, each of you caught your breath, his cock softening inside of you. As he shifted to pull out, you found yourself gasping, holding tight to him. 

Joel studied you as you whined, needy to be close to him. He caressed your face gently, seeing something in your eyes that seemed to unnerve him. 

“Baby, I think you’re in a subspace right now,” Joel reasoned, tracing his thumb across your cheekbone. “I promise, I’ll be right back. Gonna clean you up, get you something to eat. Ain’t nothin’ you gotta do, alright? You’ve been such a good girl.”

You swallowed, the fog in your head clearing a little bit at his praise. “Okay, just… come back, please.”

Joel smiled contentedly. “I will. Promise.”

You grunted with an edge of pain as he pulled out of you, before exhaustion crept in. The week had been a whirlwind, never allowing you to truly register how tired you were until the warmth of Joel’s bed eased you into a state of dozing. 

Vaguely, footsteps against hardwood registered in your haze of exhaustion and… what did Joel call it? Subspace. 

The sound of someone fumbling around in the kitchen made you smile softly, your eyes closed to the cozy bedroom. 

A quiet call of your name roused you from your dozing. 

Joel leaned over you, a sweet grin on his face. On the night stand beside you, a grilled cheese, apple slices, and a glass of water rested, and your stomach grumbled at the sight. 

“Gonna clean you up, now, okay?” Joel said, a damp washcloth in his hand. You nodded, eyes fixed on the sandwich. With a smile, he handed you the grilled cheese and wiped down your inner thighs, sticky with release. 

Mid bite, Joel cleaned up your sore cunt, making you wince slightly. He paused, letting you swallow the food before continuing. You let out a soft moan at the care, the attention, the fog clearing little by little. 

Joel kissed you on the lips as he finished wiping you down, and you swallowed the last bite of the sandwich. Each of your limbs was nearly limp, pliant to his touch. 

“You gotta go to the bathroom, baby,” Joel insisted, wrapping his arms underneath your waist and legs, lifting you like you weighed nothing. You giggled as he carried you, though you weren’t sure of why. The warmth of his chest was comforting, the closeness of his body against yours. 

He set you gingerly down onto the toilet seat, knowing your ass was tender from his punishment. You groaned lowly, and his brows furrowed. You held to his hand as you did your business, and he knelt beside you as he waited. 

“You don’t have to stay in here, Joel,” you whispered, though leaving was the last thing you wanted him to do. 

His coffee brown eyes were kind, and crinkled as he shook his head. “Right now, all I wanna do is be here with you, baby.”

“In the bathroom as I pee?” you asked, giggling quietly. 

“Absolutely, pretty girl. Who else is gonna bring you back to bed?” Joel replied, his thumb pinching your chin playfully. 

You looked down, heat rising to your cheeks. You weren’t sure why you suddenly felt shy, considering he knew you better than anyone, inside and out… literally. 

Something else occured to you. Your giggy grin, the fog over your sense, the need to be close to him... “Joel, that word you said… subspace?”

Joel’s face fell slightly, but he nodded. His eyes were wholly fixed on you, attentive to every twitch and glance. 

“What… what is it?” you asked, feeling a little foolish. 

Joel cleared his throat. “I’ll get you back to bed, and then I’ll tell you about it, okay?”

You nodded, finishing your business. Joel scooped you up with a kiss to your forehead, tucking you back into his blankets. His hands were careful, precise, like he was handling something precious. He even handfed you a few apple slices, and made you drink the whole glass of water with a little coaxing. The fog clouding your mind dissipated, though the fatigue remained. 

Sliding into bed next to you, Joel’s arms enveloped you immediately, holding you close under the covers, though nothing about it felt sexual. He simply wanted… to have you near. 

He took a deep breath. “Subspace is somethin’ I read about when we first started this…” he fumbled for the word. “Dynamic, I suppose. You trustin’ me to take care of you, trustin’ me with your body, trustin’ me with the control that you guard so closely. Subspace is a state of mind, I guess, that people like you get when your brain releases higher levels of adrenaline and happy chemicals.”

You hummed against his chest, nuzzling closer. “Like a high.”

“Exactly. You get that sorta floaty feelin’, like reality is slightly altered. Supposed to be in response to the balance between pain and pleasure, the sensations sending you into the space.” Joel clenched his jaw, shrugging. “I dunno if that makes sense, or if that even was what–” You pressed a hand against his heart, and he cut himself off, peering at you. “That sounds right. It felt amazing, exactly what I needed… how did you know?”

Joel smiled a little. “I guess… you just make sense to me. It’s how I knew you needed somethin’ different tonight, why you were actin’ up. I looked at you, and I knew. Can’t really explain it.”

Sleep nagged at you, the steady beat of his heart in your ear lulling. “You make sense to me, too, Joel. Why did it worry you at first?”

Joel considered it a moment. “With a high, there’s a drop, too. A low, I guess, because your brain is still gettin’ back to the baseline once the happy chemicals settle. I needed to make sure you felt safe, and satisfied with what we… with what I did.”

You smiled hazily, eyes shutting with exhaustion. “I do, Joel. You make me feel…”

Your voice dropped off to sleep, and Joel could only wonder what you would’ve said.

[sultrycitron]

[sultrycitron]

I want to write. I have ideas. I open document. I type four of the worst sentences ever created in the english language. I daydream the rest of the scene. I close document.

[sultrycitron]

he feels like home

summary: All Joel Miller wanted was a cake from you, the town baker. All you wanted in return were a few items and to have a drink with him. Now, you’re naked in your bedroom, sitting on his face, getting eaten out like you’re the first real meal he’s had in years. 

“Then ask me for what you really want.” 

“You wanna come in and fuck me?” 

“Only if you’ll let me take you out on a date tomorrow. I don’t do that casual, fuck buddy shit. You’re either mine, or nothin’ at all.”

pairing: Joel Miller/f!reader

rating: E (18+!!! No y/n, porn with some plot, explicit smut, Possessive Joel Miller, big-juicy-legal age gap, unprotected p in v (wrap it up!), creampie, oral sex (f & m receiving), face sitting, woman on top, rough sex (arms pinned behind back, face shoved against bed), begging, dirty talk (so much), praise (a ton), multiple orgasms, overstimulation, breast worship, aftercare, reader is a lil bratty, feelings, pregnancy mention, Good Parent Joel Miller, sneaking around)

word count: 13.3k+ 

a/n: Hi! I missed Joel a lot, and as soon as he traded Legos for a cake, my ass was typing out this fic idea. I hope you enjoy my horny fever dream! Note: Halican Drops is a fake band. Sarah wears their band t-shirt in the first episode. I headcanon that they sound like Joan Jett & the Blackhearts. Title from "long story short" by Taylor Swift. Shoutout to @devineconjuring for betaing! 

Thank you for reading! Comments and reblogs feed me. I’d love to know what you thought!

Masterlist

It’s a Tuesday in Spring, the sun due to set in the coming hour. The temperatures outside have begun to warm up, melting some of the snow high in the mountains. You’d already completed your shifts for the day in the community kitchen, assisting with making breakfast and preparing for lunch and dinner, which a majority of Jackson ate in the mess hall—you didn’t, instead opting to enjoy your food in the comfort of your apartment. With your evening meal finished and your dishes washed, you’re sitting on the couch in your living room listening to the soft tune of Nirvana playing on your record player—a new addition to your collection, their MTV Unplugged in New York album from ‘94—while darning the holes in all of your socks. There are two piles on the coffee table in front of you, one for the hole-y and the other for the now holeless. 

A knock on your front door has you pausing, your eyebrows furrowing. You’re not expecting anyone tonight, as indicated by the oversized David Bowie concert t-shirt, lack of bra, and black leggings you’re wearing. “Coming!” you announce, leaning forward to set the sock and yarn on the tabletop before getting up and walking the short distance to the door. Turning the doorknob, you crack it open enough to see who’s there. To your surprise, it’s that handsome older gentleman who arrived in town a couple of months ago, whom you haven’t had the opportunity to introduce yourself to, but have definitely ogled. How could you not with how his flannels always hugged his broad shoulders and how good his jeans made his ass look. You take in what he’s wearing today—a red flannel shirt with dark denim on his bottom half. Your eyes meet his. “Can I help you?” you ask. 

He gives you a sheepish smile that’s honestly adorable on such a rugged face. “I’m sorry for botherin’ you, ma’am. My name is Joel. Joel Miller, Tommy’s brother? I’ve been in Jackson a little while now, and I was told you’re the person to talk to if I’m in need of a cake.” 

“Oh!” You open your door wider. “Yes, that’s me!” Quickly, you give him your name and offer your hand for him to shake, noticing immediately how much bigger his is when it practically engulfs your smaller one. It has your mind wandering, wondering what it’d feel like on other parts of your body. That thought heats your skin, and you feel a little disappointed when he lets go. “What kind of cake are you needing?” 

“A birthday cake.” 

“For your wife, or girlfriend?” 

“No.” He shakes his head. “For my dau—kid,” he catches himself. 

You lean against the doorframe, crossing your arms over your chest, and you see his split-second glance at your breasts. You smile. “For your kid, who’s not your daughter.” 

He sighs, his hands going to his hips. “It’s… complicated.” 

“You adopt her?” 

“Yeah.” 

It was pretty common for people to take in orphaned children, especially here in town. As sad as it was, there have been instances of kids losing their parents or guardians on their way to Jackson who still managed to make it to the town’s walls, or who were found by patrols and brought in. Luckily, there was an abundance of couples and families willing to foster or adopt the children. 

“How old is she turning?” 

“Fifteen.” 

“Got yourself a teen. How long has she been in your care?” 

“Seven, eight months.” 

“Ah, I understand the not-daughter thing now.” His kid is older, and their relationship is still relatively new. They’ve probably bonded but aren’t comfortable using father-daughter labels yet. “Just you and her?” 

“Yeah.” 

He’s single. That’s good to know. 

“It’s sweet that you want her to have a cake for her birthday.” 

He smiles fondly. “It’s her first.” 

Handsome, polite, and loves his adopted child as if she were his own? He’s perfect, and it’s surprising no one has taken him off the market yet. Maybe you should shoot your shot. There aren’t a lot of guys like him in Jackson, and it wouldn’t hurt to try. 

“That’s even sweeter,” you reply. “What’s her name?” 

“Ellie.” 

“A great name—simple and lovely. The last cake I made was for this woman’s husband, named Reginald. Do you have any idea how fucking hard it is to spell out, ‘Happy Birthday, Reginald,’ on a cake the size of a small dinner plate?” 

He looks amused. “Pretty hard?” 

“Pretty fucking hard, Joel. I made it work, though, squishing the letters together. Do you have a preference if it’s chocolate or vanilla?” 

“Uh, chocolate, I guess?” 

“Okay, and when do you need it done by?” 

“The day after tomorrow.” 

“Short notice and chocolate—that’s gonna cost you extra.” 

“That won’t be a problem. I used to be a smuggler. I can find somethin’ you’d want.” That’s how you’re paid, by bartering, goods, or favors. 

“A smuggler, huh? If you don’t mind me asking, where are you from? Aside from Texas, I know Tommy’s a Texan.” 

“Boston. The QZ out there.”

“Doing your smuggling, I assume?” 

“Yes.” 

“You’re not a chatty guy, are you?” 

He huffs out a breath, looking down at his boots. “No, ma’am. I don’t have much to chat about.” His eyes land on yours again.  

“That’s not true. You came all the way here from fucking Boston. You could tell me about your travels, Ellie, or hell, we could reminisce about the days before the world ended.” 

He smiles, his weight shifting to one side. “Were you even alive back then?” 

“I was.” 

“You had to be young. A kid.” 

“Yeah. Doesn’t mean I don’t remember the comic strips in the Sunday newspaper and how good fresh McDonald’s fries were.” 

His eyebrows rise almost to his hairline. “Wow, I haven’t thought about McDonald’s in years.” 

“What I’d give for some McNuggets and an apple pie.” 

“Did you get some of the apple pie at dinner tonight?” 

You smile. “I made the apple pie at dinner tonight.” 

He matches your expression. “Did you? That tells me the cake is gonna be really fuckin’ good, then.” 

The compliment makes you preen. “Thank you. My mom taught me how to bake before, you know.” The outbreak. “We had this old family recipe for peach pie that always won first place at the county fair.” 

“If it was anythin’ like the pie tonight, I can see why.” 

“Stop that,” you tease, waving away his words. “Flattery will get you everywhere.” 

His eyes dart away, clearing his throat. It must have been a while since he was last flirted with. He focuses on you again, changing the subject. “So, what kind of stuff do you want?” 

“Ummm, let’s see. It’s her first cake, you’re a sweetheart, and I have all of the ingredients. How about records, movies, and booze?” Easy stuff for him to get. It’s basically the equivalent of a half-off discount. “Oh, and socks!” Yours have seen better days. 

“Any records or movies? You’re not lookin’ for anythin’ specific?”

“Nope.” Any duplicates you receive, you’ll trade.

“What about alcohol?”  

“I’m not picky. Whatever you have will do.” All that matters is that it’s safe to consume. Liquor is a hot commodity and a valuable bargaining tool. 

“Okay.” He nods. “That’s not too bad. I appreciate you for bein’ so kind to me. I’ll have it all to you tomorrow.” 

“Great! But there’s something else I want, too.”

His eyes narrow slightly, and he frowns. He thinks you’re trying to pull one over on him. “What else?” 

“I’d like to have a drink with you.”

When every day could possibly be your last, there’s no point in playing coy. You’re going to go after what you want, unashamed. 

Surprise shows on his face, clearly taken aback. “You want to have a drink with me…?” he says the words slowly, like he almost doesn’t believe them. 

“Yes, I want to have a drink with you, Joel.” 

“Why?” 

“I don’t know. Why would a woman want to have a drink with you?” 

He frowns. “It can’t be for the reason I’m thinkin’.”

“If you thought it’s to get to know you better because I’m interested in you, that is correct.” 

That just makes him look confused. “Me? You know I’m old, right? Shit, I’m probably older than your parents.” 

Your eyebrow lifts. “And? You’re an adult. I’m an adult. What does your age have to do with anything?” 

His arms cross over his chest. “A lot, sweetheart. I don’t think you know what you’re askin’ for. I’m not a young buck anymore. I don’t have the energy of a boy your age. I’m old and broken. My fuckin’ ear doesn’t even work.” He points at the right one.

“So, you’ve got some wear and tear. I don’t care. I still want to have a drink with you. But hey, if you’re uncomfortable with that, then don’t worry about it. I’ll, of course, still make Ellie her cake for the stuff we agreed on.” 

“It’s not that I’m uncomfortable. I’m flattered, really. I’m just havin’ a hard time understandin’ why you’re interested in someone as old as me. There’s gotta be guys closer to your age around here that’d love to have a drink with you. What I mean is you’re beautiful, and I know you can do a lot better than me.”  

You smile. “You think I’m beautiful?”

“Yes.” He nods. “But that’s beside the point.” 

“Have you thought that maybe I like that you’re so much older than me?”

He stands up straighter, his interest piqued. “You got a thing for older men?” 

“Now you’re getting it. I do have standards, so it depends on the man in question. In your case, you check all my boxes.” 

His expression shows his curiosity. “What are you lookin’ for?” 

“Someone caring, pleasant to talk to, not creepy, easy on the eyes, can hold their own, and fifties preferred; I’m willing to dip into the late forties if I have to.” 

“Why is fifties preferred?” 

“You really wanna know?” 

“Yeah, I do.” 

“Okay. Men your age are great in bed, it’s as simple as that.”

“What makes them great?” 

“You wanna know for later?” 

You’re rewarded with a flirty little smirk. “Maybe.” 

His answer thrills you. “Maybe, huh? I’ve found them to be very generous, and they seem to care that I’m having a good time, too, which is fantastic. They’re also the only ones who’ve ever gone down on me. The guys my age are always in a rush and generally care more about themselves than me. It sucks. So, men in their fifties are my preference.” 

The explanation has his dark eyes getting even darker. Now that he’s aware of the extent of your interest in him, there’s a palpable shift between you, and it becomes clear that the attraction is mutual. 

“And you’re not seein’ anyone currently…?”

“No. I’m single and very available, especially to you. Now do you wanna come in for a drink?” you ask, the door squealing as you push it open even more. 

There’s no hiding that he’s contemplating your offer; it’s there on his face, probably warring with himself over the morality of the situation, and you get it. Given the significant age difference, there are many things he could be worrying about, which he needs to weigh the pros and cons of. At least it’s reassuring that he seems to have a conscience. You’re just hoping he chooses to give in to his desires. 

It’s seconds later that he’s made his decision. 

“No use in fightin’ it,” he says under his breath. 

Joel sends the butterflies in your stomach into a frenzy when he takes a step toward you, his hand going up onto the doorframe above your head. He leans in close, your faces only an inch apart, and you gulp at the proximity. “Only a drink?” he rasps. “Is that really all you want, sweetheart?” His eyes keep jumping from your eyeline to your mouth like it’s taking a lot for him not to kiss you. 

“No,” you breathe. 

“No, it’s not. Tell the truth. What do you want?”

“You.” 

Excitement burns low in your belly. You can’t believe this is actually happening. You figured he might be okay with having a drink with you, but this? This is definitely better.

“Then ask me for what you really want.” 

“You wanna come in and fuck me?” 

“Only if you’ll let me take you out on a date tomorrow. I don’t do that casual, fuck buddy shit. You’re either mine, or nothin’ at all.”

A shiver moves down your spine, your heart pounding so hard you think it might beat right out of your chest. From that declaration, and his confidence, you know he’s got a big dick. Better yet, you’re almost positive he knows how to use it, too. 

“Yes, I’ll go out with you, but I’m not yours until you show me why I should be.”

He smirks. “Is that right?” 

“Yep,” you answer. Your palm presses to the front of his jeans, over his hardening cock, which you’re happy to find is rather sizeable. 

It delights you how his eyes close, and he groans, “Fuck.” When they open again, there’s only the tiniest sliver of brown circling his blown pupils. “You’re gonna be the fuckin’ death of me.” 

“Not up for the challenge?” 

Joel growls, his lips suddenly on yours, kissing you hard. A surprised sound leaves your throat, but you’re quick to kiss him back, matching his fervor as you grab fistfuls of his shirt, tugging him into your house. His large hand is on your ass, the other shoving your front door closed before its cupping your cheek. Neither of you wants the kiss to end, your mouths staying fused as you walk backward until you bump into the arm of your couch. This is when you spin him, getting him around to the front of the sofa. You break apart as you push him, Joel falling back onto the cushions with a heavy, breathless thump. 

Dust floats in a patch of evening light behind him as you stand there, your pulse hammering in your rib cage, your lips tingling. This man with lines etched into his face, carving out the years of grit, survival, and untold grief—no one is lucky enough to make it as far as he has without losses—he’s looking up at you like you’re the first beautiful thing he’s seen in a long, long time. 

It’s electric and heavy all at once, like standing on the edge of something dangerous and good. What are you to do but jump headfirst into the abyss that has the potential to ruin you for anyone else?

“You’re gorgeous,” he says, ending the silence. “C’mere, baby.” He holds out his arms to you, and you’re like a moth to a flame—drawn to him, crawling into his lap without another word. Straddling his thighs, you take his stubbled cheeks into your palms and kiss him once more. He moans into your mouth, his big hands grabbing onto your ass, encouraging you to grind against the straining length in his jeans, the friction to your clit stoking the arousal in your center. 

It shouldn’t be a surprise that he’s not in a hurry to get you naked. He’s more interested in kissing you, delving his tongue between your lips to tangle with your own. It makes you assume he hasn’t been with a woman in quite a while, and he’s taking his time, luxuriating in your affections. 

It goes on and on, until you hit a point where you need to come up for air, your mouth coming off of his to draw in a deep breath. He pants, kissing your chin and the underside of your jaw. 

His hands go still. “Can I take your shirt off?” he asks, pulling back to look at your face. His lips are reddened and shiny from spit, his cheeks tinted in a pink flush.

You smile, your fingertips sliding through the hair above his ears. “Only if you take off yours, too.” 

“Okay.” 

He doesn’t waste time. Joel grips the hem of your t-shirt, tugging it up and off your raised arms, letting it fall onto the floor. Your fingers start unbuttoning his flannel, while his attention is on your bared breasts that he caresses, his thumbs sweeping across the soft skin, your nipples tightening.

The last button is undone. “Off,” you order, pushing open his shirt. He sighs at being interrupted, but he does as you say, sitting up in his seat, jostling you as he shrugs off his flannel, the garment meeting the same fate as your t-shirt. 

There’s no time for you to admire the newly revealed skin; he’s zeroed in on your tits again, his hands squeezing them gently, weighing them in his palms. It’s hard not to laugh when he shoves his prickly face into the pillowy mounds and happily sighs. You’re not sure if he’s enjoying your softness again or if he’s a boob guy. Maybe it’s both. You are, however, pretty sure he’s in heaven, and good for him. He can have this moment. Your arms are around his neck, with your fingers pressed into the brown waves on his head.

He kisses along the side of your breast, and you’re gasping at him sucking your pebbled nipple into the warmth of his mouth. It sends a shock of pleasure straight to your clit, making you squirm in his lap. “Yes,” you moan as he swirls his tongue around the hard bud. He moves to give your other breast the same treatment, a shiver rolling through you when cold air hits the saliva left behind on your skin. 

Wetness pools between your thighs, your cunt aching, pulsing with need. Joel pulls off your stiff nipple with an audible pop, lifting his head to meet your eyes, his gaze heavy, pupils blown. His voice dips into something rough and hungry. “If I’m not mistaken, you like your pussy eaten?” 

“I love it.”

“Thank Christ, ‘cause I fuckin’ love eatin’ it, and it’s been too damn long since I’ve gotten a taste.”

His eagerness has heat sizzling in your veins. “Well, how about we change that?” You get up to stand in front of him. “Lose the boots.” 

He smiles. “Yes, ma’am.” He grunts as he leans forward, quickly untying and taking off the worn leather boots that he puts neatly paired on the floor next to him. His socks look a lot better than yours—one of the perks of being a smuggler and knowing where to find things. 

You stick out your hand to him. “Let’s go, handsome. We’re taking this to the bedroom.” 

“I like the sound of that.” He accepts your palm, and you pull as he rises up onto his feet with a pained groan. “Will be better for my back.”

With Joel hot on your heels, you lead him out of the living room and through the kitchen to the hallway, down to the end where your bedroom is. Crawling onto your queen-size bed, he follows and has you squeaking in surprise when he roughly tugs your leggings off your lower half, causing you to fall onto your stomach. He easily manhandles you onto your back, giving you a glimpse of his strength. You find yourself lying there with your head cushioned on a pillow, Joel kneeling between your legs. 

It catches you off guard how he looks down at you, as if he’s seeing something sacred. There’s awe there that he barely hides. Reverence. It takes your breath away that, once again, it’s written on his face that he thinks you’re the most beautiful thing he’s seen in a very, very long time. 

His hands smooth up your thighs. “Today is my lucky day,” he murmurs, voice thick with want. “Just look at you.” He hooks his fingers into the waistband of your panties, dragging them down and off, tossing them to the floor. “Fuckin’ perfection laid out for me. Look at that pretty little pussy.” With two fingers, he spreads open your slick folds, his hot gaze locked on your cunt. “You’re gonna taste so fuckin’ good.” His tongue wets his lips like he’s imagining it. “I wanna fuckin’ drown in it.”

A sharp jolt of excitement shoots through your core, clenching hard with anticipation. You’re expecting him to dive in, tongue first. What you are not anticipating is Joel leaning up, wrapping an arm around your waist, and rolling you on top of him to have you straddle his stomach. 

Your eyebrows pull together, blinking down at him with your hands on his chest. “I thought you were eating me out…?” 

He smiles. “I am. Maybe not the way you’re expectin’, though. You ever ride someone’s face?” 

Your stomach flips. “No?” 

“Well, looks like today is your lucky day, too.” His biceps flex as he guides your hips up toward his head. “Get up here, baby.”

You grab the wooden headboard to steady yourself, your heart racing, nerves twisting in your gut. You want it—you want it so fucking bad, but your brain won’t stop worrying about the logistics. Or the potential body count of one extremely hot older man. 

He gets you to settle over his face, your thighs bracketing his ears. “How do I do this without, you know, killing you?” you ask. 

His voice is muffled beneath you. “Just sit on my face. All of your weight. I wanna feel it.”

He wants you to smother him with your pussy?

“Joel, babe, I like you, and I want to see where this goes, but that can’t happen if I suffocate you.”

“Suffocatin’ between your thighs would be the best way to leave this world.” 

Considering the alternatives of getting bitten by infected or murdered by fellow humans, he isn’t wrong that dying while doing something you love is the best way to go out.

“That doesn’t reassure me.” 

“It’d take more than your pussy to kill me. I can move you off if I have to, or I’ll tap your thigh twice.” He demonstrates. “So, quit your worryin’ and sit.” 

“Bossy.” 

He smacks your ass, the sharp sting making your cunt clench. He loses patience, gripping your thighs, yanking you down against his face. That worry you had about accidentally murdering Joel? It flies out the window, your brain short-circuiting at the heat of his mouth and the wet messy sound of his tongue plunging into your pussy. It’s instant, the pleasure cutting through you sharp as a knife, your head falling back, your knees buckling. 

“Oh, fuck,” you moan, already starting to tremble.

It’s filthy and almost too much, but not enough all at once. His stubble scrapes your inner thighs, adding a bite to every glide of his wicked tongue, his groans vibrating against your sensitive skin. You’re floating, your heartbeat thumping in your ears. He licks up every drop you’re dripping like a man possessed, his nose bumping your swollen clit. 

He’s going to make you come—arousal burns hot at the base of your spine, the knot in your belly winding tighter and tighter. You’re so lost in how fucking good it feels you don’t even realize you’re grinding down until Joel’s fingers grab your ass and rock you against his mouth, helping you move. 

“That’s it,” he groans into your cunt. “Use me. Fuck my face, baby.” 

And you do, your hips moving greedily now, chasing every lick of his tongue, unashamed. Your whole body burns, your pussy soaked, every nerve in your body lit up like the Fourth of July. Sweat drips down your spine and between your breasts. 

You thought Joel was in heaven earlier with his face buried in your tits, but from the way he’s eating you out like it’s his last meal on earth and how he can’t seem to stop groaning against your cunt, this is his real heaven. He drags the flat of his tongue through your folds to wrap his lips around your throbbing clit, and when he sucks, he has to hold you still as you writhe, chanting his name over and over again, spiraling out of your mind in pleasure. 

God, he really is going to ruin you for anyone else, isn’t he? It’s not like this is the first time you’ve been eaten out, either. But no one’s devoured you like this. He’s truly hungry for it—relentless. Slurping at your pussy like it’s his favorite meal.

“Don’t stop,” you whimper. “Don’t fucking stop. Your mouth—fuck—I love your mouth. It’s so good.” You don’t even know if he can hear you with your thighs clamped over his only good ear. 

Maybe it was a mistake challenging him to show you why you should be his. He’s pulling out all the stops to convince you. You’re already unraveling, and this man has the audacity to snake his hand up to your breast and tweak your nipple. It forces a choked sound from your throat, and your vision blurs for a second. 

He works you up, higher and higher, until you’re trembling over him, your thighs quaking, belly tight, heart hammering like it's trying to break free. You’re drenched, dripping onto his face, as he feasts on you like he’s starving. 

“Fuck, Joel—” you gasp, but can’t even finish the thought. 

You reach for his hand on your thigh, desperate for something to hold onto. He squeezes it, grounding you. 

Joel moans into your cunt as if it’s the best thing he’s ever tasted, dragging his tongue in slow, deliberate strokes that push you right to the edge. Then he sucks your clit deep into his mouth, and the world drops out from under you. 

You scream. There’s no other word for it. You cry out like you’re shattering, hips jerking, cunt clenching so hard around nothing it aches. Your orgasm rips through you, hot and brutal, pleasure crashing over you in waves that leave you gasping and twitching. 

Joel doesn’t stop; he doubles down.

He groans like he’s getting off on it, rutting his tongue against your pulsing clit and shoving it inside you to lick up your release. His stubble scratches your swollen lips, his fingers digging into your ass to keep you right where he wants you.

“That’s it,” he growls into your pussy between licks. “Give it to me. Fuckin’ soak my face, baby. I want it all.” 

Sounds are spilling from you of their own accord—moans, cries, possible declarations of love for this guy you’ve known for less than two hours. You don’t know what you’re saying, you just know he’s wrecking you, and you never want it to end. 

“Joel, Joel—oh fuck—I can’t—” He has you coming again. It builds until it spills over, dizzying and all-consuming. Your body goes taut for a heartbeat, and then you’re melting, euphoria searing through your veins, your thighs shaking uncontrollably around his head. This one isn’t as explosive as the last, but it’s deep, stealing your breath and making you feel like your soul just drifts out of you.   

“Good girl,” his voice half-muffled by your cunt.

His tongue continues lapping lazily at your oversensitive clit until you’re flinching, overstimulated. Finally, he eases up, making a satisfied hum. 

“You did so fuckin’ good for me,” he murmurs.

You’re numb with pleasure—boneless, floating. Joel’s strong hands slide up to your waist, carefully lifting you off his face. He settles you onto his chest for barely a moment before your legs give out, collapsing onto your back beside him in a spent, panting heap. Your arms and legs feel heavy, your body buzzing like a live wire. 

Well, it still rings true that guys his age know what they’re doing in the bedroom. You have a theory on why that is, and it has to do with them being in their thirties before everything went to hell. They remember what it’s like to fuck in a time void of the uncertainty and fear of today. They remember what it’s like to be carefree and able to take their time in bed, unlike these days, where it’s hard to find somewhere safe enough to feel that relaxed. 

Luckily, Jackson is one of those places. So here, in the safety of the town, they get to relive those years, and you’re more than happy to go down memory lane with them. 

And somehow, with hardly any effort, Joel wants you to be his. 

It’s embarrassing how giddy that makes you. 

He can’t know he’s already sold you on a relationship with him. You want him to work for it, so you don’t come off as too easy. 

The old springs in the mattress squeak as Joel shifts onto his side. His rough, calloused fingers stroke along your cheek. “You okay, sweetheart?” he softly asks. “Need a second?” 

You nod slowly. “My arms are noodles, and my legs aren’t any better. I’m pretty sure I couldn’t walk if I tried. 

“Yeah?” You can hear the smile in his voice. “It’s a good thing you don’t have anywhere to be.” There’s a pause. Without looking at him, you know he’s frowning now. “You don’t have plans, right? Tonight?” 

Your eyes blink open, your head turning his way, smiling. The bottom half of his face is shiny with your juices, and he looks adorably worried with a crinkle between his eyebrows that you reach up to smooth with your thumb. “No plans. I was going to fix all the holes in my socks. Maybe patch up some other clothes. I’d much rather spend my evening with you, though.” 

He smiles, grabbing your hand, kissing your knuckles. “Good. I’ve got nothin’ goin’ on, either. I just need to be home by midnight.” 

“Because you, what? Turn back into a pumpkin after midnight?” 

He gives you a flat look. “No, I don’t turn into a damn pumpkin. I’ve got a kid. I need to be home for her.” 

“You have no idea how much it turns me on that you’re a good dad.”

Joel huffs in amusement, his eyes leaving yours. “I don’t know about bein’ a good dad, but she doesn’t seem to hate me, so I must be doin’ somethin’ right.” 

“I mean, you’re getting her a birthday cake—her first birthday cake, might I add—and you were willing to pay whatever price it’d cost. Sounds very ‘good dad’ to me. That actually reminds me. Don’t worry about the shit we agreed on. We’re good. I’ll make the cake tomorrow. You could even come over and help me, if you wanted to.” That’d be such a cute date. 

His gaze comes back to yours, his lips downturned. “I don’t want you doin’ it for free. I know that ingredients aren’t easy to come by, and you’re takin’ time out of your busy day.” 

“Who said anything about free? Just so we’re clear, I normally do not make cakes in exchange for sexual favors, but this will be the only exception because you were that good—don’t let it go to your head.” 

It’s too late, the smugness is already showing on his face, his dark eyes sparkling with a crooked grin. “I was that good, huh?” His head dips to place a soft kiss on your naked shoulder. “You gonna be mine now?”

“I don’t know. I think I need some more convincing.”

“More convincin’?” He lets go of your hand to rest his palm, warm and firm, on your thigh. “What will it take?”

“You know what I want.” 

“Be a good girl and ask me for it.” 

You suck in a breath, your cunt throbbing in beat with your heart. Oh, you like that. 

Quickly, you compose yourself. “Ask for it? Or do you want me to beg for it?” Your tone shifts to something sultry. “Please, Joel. I need your cock. I’m aching for it. Fuck me. Fill me up. Ruin me—whatever you want. Just please, will you fuck me now?” 

His fingers tighten on your leg, his voice deepening. “How do you want it?” 

You smile. “How do you want me?”

“Flip over.” 

“Take off your pants.” You glance down at the denim to see the impressive bulge at the front. “I’m not going to be the only one who’s naked.” Your gaze returns to his. “Go on. Get up and strip.”

He’s frowning. “And you were callin’ me bossy…” he mumbles. 

“You got a problem with that, big guy?”

“No, ma’am.” 

He moves to get off the bed and walks around to the end of it. You sit up on your elbows to watch with interest as he undoes his belt and unbuttons his jeans. He doesn’t drag it out, shoving both his pants and boxer briefs down his legs and peeling off his socks, before standing to his full height for you to take him in, his hands on his hips. 

The first thing that catches your attention is his dick bobbing between his legs. He’s mouth-wateringly thick, with a decent length that, at the thought of how it’d feel inside you, has you rubbing your thighs together to quell the sudden ache. The tip is flushed an angry red, with beads of precum smeared to make it shine in the light of your bedside lamp. 

“Keep starin’ at it like that, and you’re gonna start droolin’.” 

Your eyes rise to his amused ones. “Who says I’m not already?” 

He’s smirking. “That mouth’s gonna get you in trouble.” 

You smile. “Is that a threat, handsome?” 

“It’s a fact.” 

“I love this foreplay. You’re cute.” 

His eyebrow lifts. “I’m cute?” 

“Yes, you’re cute, and so fucking hot.” Your attention returns to his body. Naked, the broadness of his shoulders and the tininess of his waist are more pronounced. “You’re in amazing shape.”

“You think so?”

“I’d fuck you, even with the wear and tear.” You wink at him. 

Speaking of wear and tear, his body is littered with scars, some old, having silvered long ago, and others newer. There’s one low on his abdomen that catches your eye, and you need to get a closer look at it, scrambling onto your hands and knees, crawling over on shaky limbs to kneel in front of him. It’s relatively big, jagged—a quick patch job by someone inexperienced or in a hurry—and red, which means he’s only had it a handful of months. The injury must’ve happened on his trek to Jackson from Boston. 

What’s fascinating about it is that a wound of its caliber should’ve killed him while traveling across the country. If it weren’t the blood loss that got him, the risk for infection in those conditions would’ve been insane. Your hand moves of its own volition, pressing your fingertips to the warm, raised skin—you gasp when he abruptly snatches your palm, your chin lifting to meet his eyes. 

“Sorry,” you apologize immediately. 

“Shit.” He lets go, looking startled by what he’d done out of instinct. “No, I’m sorry.” His eyes dart away, sighing. “I haven’t been touched like this in a long fuckin’ time.” 

“Let’s change that.” 

He meets your gaze as you grab his waist for support and lean in to kiss the scar softly. He swears under his breath, his thighs tensing. “Jesus,” he rasps. You keep your eyes on his, kissing down through his happy trail to your destination between his legs. “You’re gonna fuckin’ ruin me.” 

He must’ve showered earlier after working his assigned job for the day. The scent of crushed thyme clings to his skin, sharp and earthy with just a hint of mint that’s grounding and fresh.

When your fingers wrap around his cock, Joel’s head falls back as he groans loudly. He’s hot in your palm, his shaft hard as steel and velvety smooth as you slowly pump him. 

“God, you have a pretty dick,” you tell him. 

He stares down at you again, and you love how he looks at you, as if you’re a reward and not just a good time, how he looks at you like you mean something. “Yeah?” he says the word in question. His big hand caresses your face, stroking his thumb over the apple of your cheek. “You want it to ruin that perfect little pussy?” 

“Yes, after this—” Dipping your head, you take his cock into your mouth, engulfing as much as you can until he’s hitting the back of your throat. There’s only a second for you to enjoy the heaviness of him on your tongue before he’s pulling you off of him. 

“No,” he hisses. “None of that, sweetheart.” He grips the base of his shaft, giving it a squeeze to calm himself. 

Frowning, you look up at him. “Why not?” 

“Because if you keep goin’, I’m gonna blow before I even get inside you. I told you, it’s been a long fuckin’ time since I’ve been with someone.” 

His reason makes you smile. “And you want to fuck me instead of coming down my throat.” 

“And I want to fuck you instead of comin’ down your throat.”

Why is that romantic to you? Maybe because there aren’t a lot of guys who’d turn down a blow job so you can get off together. 

“Hands and knees?” you ask, “Or on my stomach?” 

A grin tugs at the corner of his lips. “That’s my girl. Hands and knees, baby.” 

You don’t have to be told twice—turning in place, you shuffle up the mattress, settling on your hands and knees in the center of the bed. It’s instinctive how you arch your back, your ass lifted, and thighs parted. It’s a pose that feels both vulnerable and powerful, knowing exactly what kind of view you’re giving him. 

You glance back over your shoulder. “You coming, big guy?” It makes you grin, finding him distracted by the display you’re putting on. You wiggle your ass to get his attention. “You gonna get up here?” 

That snaps him from his reverie. His tone lowers, rough with desire, “Yes.” The mattress dips behind you as he climbs on, getting close enough that you can feel the heat of his body. Your head falls forward as his large, calloused palm slides up your spine, heavy and possessive, to squeeze the back of your neck. “Look at you,” he says, sounding awed. “My good girl with her ass up and her needy little pussy drippin’ for me. I’ve never felt so fuckin’ lucky.” His hands move to smooth over the curves of your backside before he grabs handfuls of the meaty globes hard enough that it borders on painful. “You’re perfect—you’re so fuckin’ perfect. But you know what else you are?” 

You hear him spit onto his fingers, slicking up his cock before he slides it through your wet folds to get it even wetter. Then he’s pressing the fat tip against your aching entrance, teasing it, your breath catching in your throat.

“What?” you whisper. 

“Mine.” 

He drives into you, sheathing himself in one hard thrust that knocks the air from your lungs, your body jerking forward from the impact. 

A guttural groan rumbles from Joel’s chest, his hands gripping your hips even tighter, holding you in place. He’s stretching you to your limit, filling you so completely that it’s hard to think, your fingers curling into the blankets. 

You’ve never been more thankful for foreplay, that he took the time to get you ready to take him. He feels massive inside you, and so fucking good, pressing against all of the right spots. At the thought of how it’s going to feel when he’s pounding into you, your cunt clenches around him. 

“Don’t,” he says through gritted teeth. “Don’t move.”  

It’s clear he wasn’t lying when he said he hadn’t been with anyone in quite some time. With his breaths turning ragged and his hips twitching from holding himself back, the man is fighting for his life not to come. Enough time passes that you’ve grown used to his dick, or as used to it as you can get with how big it is. What matters is that it’s not as overwhelming as it initially seemed.

You look back at Joel, catching him with his eyes squeezed shut, jaw tight, and sweat glistening on his brow. 

“Need a minute?” you ask.  

He cracks his eyes open. “You’re so fuckin’ tight and warm.” 

“You’re just big.”

“Am I?” He smirks.

You roll your eyes. “I’ve stroked your ego enough today. And hey, if you finish early, no shame. My pussy has that effect on some men.” 

From your previous dalliances with older men, if they hadn’t fucked in a while, the first round usually went fast, something they expected so they’d get you off beforehand. After that, they could go for as long as you wanted. 

His eyes narrow. “Are you callin’ me old?” 

You grin. “All I’m saying is you might not have the stamina you once had, and that’s totally cool.”

He moves faster than you expect, gasping when he shoves your shoulders down, forcing your chest to the mattress, with your spine arched and ass up. In the blink of an eye, he’s got your arms pinned behind your back, his large hand easily wrapped around both of your wrists, holding them there in one rough fist. 

“I told you that mouth of yours was gonna get you in trouble,” he mutters, angling his hips.  

He pulls out of you halfway and slams back in, the force stuttering your breath. 

One thing you’ve learned about Joel is you shouldn’t challenge him unless you want to be fucked within an inch of your life, as was happening right now. There’s no teasing, no slow buildup—he sets up a punishing pace from the start, the new angle absolutely devastating with his cock hitting something so divine inside you you’re seeing stars. 

“Joel, fuck—” you cry out. “Oh, fuck.” 

It feels like he’s taking you apart piece by piece, coming undone by how he’s filling and fucking you, how he owns you. He wasn’t wrong when he said you were his. He could have you any way he wants, and right now, he’s proving why he gets that honor. 

“You’re gonna feel me tomorrow,” he grits out between thrusts. “Every time you move, you’ll remember who this pussy belongs to.” 

His grip tightens on your wrists, using your arms as leverage, dragging you back onto his cock with every thrust. Each stroke is deeper than the last, your cunt greedy for every inch of him. You can’t think, you can’t breathe, you’re completely at his mercy as another orgasm starts to take shape in your core. 

Finding out that not only is he handsome, polite, and a good father but that he also fucks, has made you determined to lock him down and make him yours. 

He has you gasping now, your knees shaking hard enough you’re worried they’ll give out. Joel’s rhythm is brutal and unforgiving, his cock hitting so deep you swear you can feel him in your guts. Every push and pull of his hips is working you higher and higher. You’re so fucked out of your mind that all you can focus on are the sensations: his thick cock hammering into you, the burn in your thighs, the strain in your arms, the sweat coating your face and back, your heartbeat pounding in your ears. 

The pressure in your belly builds, your body trembling.

He says something above you that you don’t make out, smacking your ass to get your attention. The sting has you sucking in a breath, your pussy clamping down on him. 

“Answer me,” he orders. “Is this what you wanted? You wanted to be fucked like this?”

“Y-yes,” you choke out. “Don’t stop. Please, don’t stop.” 

“I’m not stoppin’ until you beg me to, and you say you’re mine.” 

Noise echoes off your bedroom walls. The old bedframe creaks under you, the worn bedsprings squealing with each thrust, skin slapping skin, the wet suck of your used cunt, moans, and ragged breaths—a symphony of debauchery. 

All you can do is take it, your back bowed, arms pinned, getting shoved forward into the sheets every time he fucks into you. He’s worked you up to the point that the coil in your belly is close to snapping, you just need—

Joel gives you another taste of his strength, pulling you up against his chest with little effort. His pace doesn’t wane, his cock working in and out of you, holding you close with an arm over your chest and another across your stomach. 

His lips press to the shell of your ear, feeling his hot, panting breath. “I know you’re close,” he rasps. “Can feel you squeezin’ me. Say it. Tell me you’re mine and I’ll let you come.” 

You grab onto his arm that’s locked against your breasts, nodding your head frantically. “I’m yours, Joel,” you gasp. “I’m fucking yours. I’ll always be yours. Please, let me come. Please.”

His hand on your stomach goes to the apex of your thighs, pinching your clit. You mewl, jerking in his hold. 

“This pussy is mine, too, isn’t it?” he asks. 

“Yes, it’s yours. Your pussy, your girl, I’m all yours, only yours. Please, Joel. Please, let me come.” 

“Good girl.” He kisses behind your ear. “Come for me. Let me have it.” 

A cry rips from your throat as he circles your clit, his other hand on your breast rolling your nipple between his fingers, his cock still pounding into you. It’s everything you need, setting you off and over the edge. The coil snaps, pleasure crashing through your body, sobbing his name over and over again, your nails digging into the skin of his forearm to tether you to earth. Your cunt spasms around him, clenching down on him hard enough it slows him to a stop. 

He groans in your ear. “That’s it.” His grip tightens around you. “That’s my fuckin’ girl. Come for me, baby.” 

You collapse against him, boneless. It’s Joel’s arm wrapped around your middle that holds you steady through the aftershocks when all you want to do is fall forward onto the mattress and rest your eyes. Your breaths are coming out ragged, your heart hammering so hard it feels like you’ve outrun a horde of infected. 

“Good girl,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your shoulder, then another to the side of your neck. His free hand rubbing comforting circles on your hip. 

You don’t speak. You’re not even sure you could if you wanted to. 

You’re still clutching his arm, and he doesn’t pull out; he stays nestled inside you, keeping you full after ruining you in the best way. Having him so close and surrounding you is the only thing that grounds you, the room quieting as you catch your breath. 

He waits a beat for you to come down before he asks, “Still with me, sweetheart?” 

You reach up behind you to thread your fingers into his sweat-damp hair, letting out a shaky exhale. “Yes.”

He nuzzles the crook of your neck. “I didn’t go too hard?” 

The softness is wholly unexpected. He’s holding you like you’re something precious, pressing reverent kisses to your skin and quietly checking in. It makes you like him even more and evokes a certain feeling that tightens your chest with emotion. Is it tenderness? Or is it that he’s treating you like more than a warm body to fuck? Maybe it’s both. Whatever it is, the ache you feel behind your ribs is almost as overwhelming as the orgasms he’s coaxed from you. 

“No. I can take it,” you answer. 

He hums in agreement and kisses a spot below your ear. “You took it really fuckin’ well.”

You smile. “You dished it out really fuckin’ well.”

“You got anythin’ to say about my stamina?” 

The question makes you snort. “I apologize for doubting your stamina. To be honest, I’m a little shocked that you haven’t come yet.” 

“Almost did, when you came. Took a whole helluva lot not to.” 

“Well, color me impressed, old man.” 

He pinches your hip, and you giggle. “Call me that again, and I’ll make sure you can’t walk for a week.” 

“Is that a promise?” 

“That fuckin’ mouth of yours.”

“You love it.”

He sighs. “Do you wanna stop or keep goin’?”

His arm is wrapped around your middle. He’s still hot and hard inside you, keeping you deliciously stretched. Obviously, you want to keep going, but there’s something you want to do for him. 

“Oh, I’m gonna get you off.” 

You untangle his arms from your body and crawl forward, his cock slipping out of you with an obscene wet sound that has you sucking in a breath and Joel groaning. You get up onto your knees and shuffle in place to look at him. 

“Sit down,” you order, and point at the spot beside you on the bed. He raises an eyebrow, and you roll your eyes. “Do you want to come with my tits in your face or not?”

That gets his cute little ass moving up the bed. He pauses when he’s next to you, his hands framing your face as he gives you a kiss that leaves you a little dizzy when he breaks away. He snags your four pillows, using them to cushion his back against the headboard, his legs sprawled out, arms folded behind his head, watching you with hungry eyes. 

He looks at home in your bed as if he’s been here hundreds of times and not only once.

And god, is he a sight to behold. A rosy pink flush rising from his chest to his cheeks, his hair tousled, skin gleaming from perspiration, and between his legs, his thick cock slick with your come and still rock hard. 

You straddle his hips. “Boob guy?”

The second they’re within reach, he’s cupping them in his large palms. 

He huffs, amused, crookedly smiling. “What makes you think that?” 

“Hmmm, let’s see. You checked them out at the door, buried your face in them on the couch, and you couldn’t keep your hands off them while you were literally being smothered by my pussy, and fucking me six ways to Sunday.” 

Joel’s chuckle turns into a choked ‘fuck’ when you guide his cock back inside you, slowly sinking down his shaft inch by inch. He shuts his eyes for a moment, his jaw flexing. You loop your arms around his neck, bottoming out, and fuck, he feels even deeper like this.

“You got me,” his voice sounds strained. “Fuckin’ love them.” His head dips to flick your nipple with his tongue, then kisses the curve, giving the other the same treatment. He sits back to meet your gaze. “Fuckin’ love how pretty you look sittin’ on my dick, too. You gonna ride me, baby?” 

Leaning forward, you kiss the line of his stubbled jaw to whisper in his left ear. “I’m gonna ride you into the sunset, handsome—and you get free rein of my tits.”

He grabs your chin, moving your face in front of his to crush his lips against yours, kissing you needily. His tongue plunders your mouth as you start moving on his lap, slow circles at first, savoring how his cock drags along your walls. Joel lets out the tiniest whimper, his palms skimming down to grip your ass. He kisses the underside of your jaw and down your neck, sucking hard on your pulse point—you gasp, your fingers pushing into the mess of waves at the back of his head. 

“You’re too fuckin’ good to me,” he says with his lips on your throat. 

“You deserve it,” you breathe. 

He isn’t going to last very long with how he’s throbbing inside you, so thick and desperate. You’re pretty sure that if you bounce on his dick with your breasts in his face and talk dirty to him, you can get him off in under two minutes. Hell, maybe you could do it in one. You decide to make it a challenge for yourself. 

Planting your knees into the mattress, you grip his shoulders for leverage and start moving with purpose. You rise until only the tip of him remains, then slam back down, in quick succession, again and again and again. It’s hard and fast, clenching around him on the upstroke to make it even better. 

He groans under you, fingers clawing into your ass like he’s hanging on for dear life. You pry them off as you continue working yourself up and down, putting his big hands on your tits.

“Fuck, baby,” his words come out ragged, his eyes glued to your chest. 

“You like that?” you pant. “Your cock buried so fucking deep inside me while you play with my tits?”

“Yes.”

He teases your stiff nipples with calloused thumbs, and he can’t help himself, leaning in to seal his mouth over one pebbled peak. He greedily sucks, the pleasure sparking through you, stuttering your rhythm for a moment. You keep going and are ready for it when he moves to your other breast, his tongue swirling around the hard bud.

You sound breathless. “You’re close, aren’t you?”

He doesn’t want to let your nipple go, so he hums his affirmative that vibrates against your skin. 

It’s slippery between your legs, his dick sliding easily in and out of your pussy. You speed up, becoming just as ruthless as he was, using him like he used you, fucking him at the same punishing pace. Your thighs collide with his in a sharp, wet smack that echoes off the walls, the bed creaking loudly. Your nipple pops out of his mouth, and he grabs your ass again for something to hold onto. “Gonna fuckin’ kill me,” he groans. He looks up at you, his eyes wild and glazed over. There’s no mistaking he’s absolutely wrecked and barely holding it together. 

It makes you smile seeing him so undone. “Can’t take it, baby?”

“I can—fuck,” he gasps, his eyes squeezing closed for a split second. He swallows hard. “Fuckin’ ruin me.”  

“With pleasure.” You ignore how your thighs burn and the bedframe squeaks. He’s your focus, he’s all that matters. You watch his face as you ride him, how it contorts when you bear down on him. You memorize every detail, every sound, every little thing that makes him tick and fall apart. His attention is back on your heaving breasts. “I want you to come inside me,” you tell him through panted breaths. “I want you to fill me up, make me drip. I wanna feel every last drop inside me. Can you do that for me, handsome? Can I have your come? Please, Joel?”

His glassy eyes snap to yours, and that’s all it takes. 

It’s game over. 

He surprises you when he sits up just enough to grab you with one arm around your back, the other cradling your head, dragging you down into a kiss as he comes. It’s desperate and messy, his lips crashing into yours, a groan rumbling from his chest, swallowing the whimper you make as you feel his cock thicken and jerk, the pulsing heat flooding your depths. Each spurt makes your cunt clamp down around him on reflex. He holds you there, locked in the kiss as if he’s afraid you’ll disappear if he lets go, his whole body beneath you trembling. You roll your hips, slower than before, grinding, drawing out every last wave for him to give you everything he’s got. 

Then—

CRACK.

The ancient bedframe finally gives out. 

With a deafening groan of protest and a sharp snap, the entire mattress drops six inches on one side, sending you both lurching sideways with surprised gasps. You’re straddling him, leaning a little to the left, Joel breathless and stunned under you. You look at the current state of your bed, then at him, somehow still balls-deep inside you, his hair a mess, his pretty face dazed, and cheeks flushed. 

“You broke my fucking bed.” 

His expression switches from shocked to offended, his eyebrows cinching together. “Excuse me, I broke your bed? Baby, you were ridin’ me like a fuckin’ mechanical bull.”

“After you fucked me into the mattress. Either way, it’s your fault. No one has ever broken my bed before.” 

“No one has ever fucked you like me before.” He looks smug about it, too. 

“Touché.” Your attention turns to the bed again, frowning. “Fuck, I’m gonna have to sleep with my mattress on the floor. With making the cake and working, I won’t be able to fix this for a few days.” 

“I’ll fix it tomorrow.” 

You look at him. “You don’t have to. It’s fine. I can probably get one of the handymen to do it when I’m free.” There are a handful of knowledgeable men who help fix things around town—Tommy is one of them. 

“I said, I’ll fix it tomorrow. You don’t need a handyman when I used to be a fuckin’ contractor.” 

That has you perking up. “A contractor?” 

“Yeah.” He takes a moment to get comfortable, keeping you atop him while he scoots down the lopsided bed and arranges your pillows to prop up his head and shoulders. “C’mere,” he says, pulling you down to lie half on top of him, his softened cock slipping out of you. Your ear is pressed over his heart, hearing the steady beat, his arm around you with his hand on your hip.

“It’s sexy that you used to be a contractor,” you say. Your palm is resting on his stomach, and he covers it with his free hand. “I’m just going to make the assumption that was back when you were in Texas, and since it gets pretty hot there, did you work with your shirt off often…?”

He’s amused. “Yes. Especially in the summer.” He’s drawing imaginary shapes on your hip. 

“What I’d pay to see that.” 

“Well, you’re makin’ the cake for free—”

“Not free,” you interrupt, lifting your head to look at him, resting your chin on his pec. “I’m making the cake in exchange for you eating my pussy like a champ.” 

He huffs, meeting your gaze. “Now you are, but before, the shit we agreed on for you to make the cake was nothin’. It would’ve taken me no time at all to get, so you were makin’ it for free.” 

“More like half-off to non-smugglers.” 

“Then you need to re-evaluate what your skills are worth ‘cause you’re sellin’ yourself short.” 

“You are very sweet, but I promise the deal I made you was only for you. A chocolate cake with basically a day’s notice? Come on, I’d want some good shit for that. Coffee, painkillers, antibiotics, ammunition, a firearm—what I asked you to get wouldn’t even pay for the chocolate, let alone a whole cake.”

He’s frowning, his finger pausing on your skin. “Then why would you agree to so little from me?”

You smile. “A weakness for single older dads.”

“You got a lot of those around here?” 

“Nope,” you pop the ‘p.’ “You’re a rare breed, and the reason why, if I’m yours, then you are mine. I do not share.”

“I don’t either.” 

“Perfect.” 

“Glad we got that out of the way. Can we go back to talkin’ about me bein’ a contractor?” 

“A sexy, shirtless contractor?” 

“Yes. What I was goin’ to say before you interrupted me is that you were so kind about the cake, that if you wanted, I can fix your bed without a shirt on.” 

“Can that be standard when you fix anything around my apartment?”

He smiles. “If that’s what you want.” 

“Oh, I want it. Also, may I make the request that the bed be extra-reinforced? We will be testing it out when you’re done.” 

“Is that right?” 

“Yep.” 

“You’re gonna fuckin’ wear me out with how much you want my cock.” 

“Your mouth, too. I’d also like to see what your fingers are like.” 

“Jesus Christ.” His fingertip starts making shapes on your hip again. “I wanna know more about you than just what you like in bed. How long have you lived in Jackson?” 

“Seven years.” 

“You got any family?”

“Biological? No. Lost my parents and little sisters when I was about twelve. Typical tragic backstory where I was the lone survivor. You know the bartender, Seth?” 

“Yeah.” 

“He and his wife found me and raised me with their kids. I was an adult by the time they decided to come out this way, and they told me I was old enough to make my own choice on whether I’d follow them or not. Obviously, I did. They may not be my blood relatives, but they’re still my aunt and uncle, which took me some years to label them as such. It’s hard when you remember your family, and they could never replace my parents. Was Ellie close with her mom and dad?” 

He frowns. “She didn’t have parents, or at least ones she knew. She was raised by FEDRA in Boston. I don’t think that girl knows what it’s like to be loved by a parent, or anyone, for that matter.” 

“From what you’ve told me, I think you’re doing a great job of showing her what it’s like to have a loving father, or a loving parent in general. The cake was a great idea. It’s so sweet and thoughtful. Do you have a present for her?” 

“Before I come over here tomorrow night to take care of your bed and have that drink with you, I’ll be spendin’ my day fixin’ up a guitar for her.” He’s fondly smiling. “I finished gettin’ all the parts I needed today—even traded your uncle for a piece of bone I’ll use for the saddle—”

“I know nothing about guitars. What’s the saddle?” 

“But you know what one looks like, right? An acoustic guitar?” 

You picture one in your head. “Yes.” 

“Okay, so you know the part near the bottom of the body where the strings are anchored? Where they’re pinned in?” 

“Yes.”

“That’s the bridge. The saddle sits on the bridge. It’s usually made of bone or plastic and holds the strings up at the right height and helps them stay in tune when you play.” 

“I think I know what you’re talking about.” 

“Good. So, got the bone, new strings, and I’ll clean and shine the rest of the metal parts. She has a thing for moths, and I’m gonna try my damndest to carve one into the fretboard—that’s the guitar neck with all the metal frets and dots to guide your fingers when you’re playin’? I’m gonna put it right at the top below the headstock, where the turning pegs are.”

“I can’t believe you don’t think you’re a good dad. The lengths you go to for this child. She’s really lucky to have you.” 

“Maybe.” 

“She is. Do you play?” 

“Since I was about half her age.” 

“You’ll have to play me something sometime.” 

“I will, but don’t ask me to sing. I’m fuckin’ awful at it.” 

“I have a hard time believing that. Is that your only hobby?” 

“No. I also do woodworkin’.”

“Like wooden figurines?”

“Yeah.” 

“You gonna make me one?” 

“What’s your favorite animal?” 

“Ummm—” You have to think about it for a second. “Maybe otters? I think it’s cute when they hold hands while sleeping.” 

“I’ll make you a pair of otters then.” 

You smile. “Just like that, you’re gonna woodwork me a couple of tchotchkes?” 

“Yeah.” He shrugs. “Gives me somethin’ to do when I’m home from work, and Ellie’s out bein’ a kid.” 

“If you ever want some company, I’d be happy to hang out with you while you do your thing. I’ll also watch movies with you, go horseback riding, and you could even help me make cakes.” You suddenly feel unsure of yourself. “Unless you’re not interested in any of that and you’re just looking for an exclusive sex partner.” 

“I told you I don’t do fuck buddies or casual shit.” 

“So, you want to date me?” 

“If you’ll have me.” He lifts your hand from his belly to kiss your knuckles. “I’d understand if you didn’t want people knowin’. though.”

Your eyebrows furrow. “Why wouldn’t I want people to know I’m dating you?” 

“Because I’m old.” 

“Once again, I do not give a fuck that you are—how old are you?” 

He takes a deep breath and says on the exhale, “Fifty-six.” 

“Once again, I do not give a fuck that you are fifty-six. You’re hot and sweet, and I’d want everyone to know you’re mine.” 

He smiles. “Yeah?” 

“Yes. There’s just one little thing we need to figure out.” 

“What’s that?” 

“How long do you wait until you tell Ellie?” 

“After her birthday. Maybe in a week or two to see how things go between us.” 

“Solid plan.” You lean up and peck him on the lips. 

“What about you? You got any hobbies?” 

“Mostly baking. I also collect records and love watching movies.” 

“When I go out again, I’ll find you more records and movies.” 

“That’s sweet of you, but you don’t have to do that.”

“I want to. I do have a question.” 

“I’ll hopefully have an answer.” 

“I know you like sex—”

“Love,” you correct. “Love sex very much.” 

“Yes, I know you love sex very much, and you said you weren’t seein’ anyone. Do I need to worry about any former, uh, paramours?” 

“Wanting to fight you for my bed?”

“Yes…” 

“No. The few guys in town are all married now, and there are a couple of traders who stop by every once in a while who’ll be disappointed, but they won’t step on your toes.” 

“I know it’s none of my business, but why didn’t any of the men here wanna marry you…?”

“Oh. I guess we should probably discuss this now, rather than having me blindside you down the road. I’d like to have a family one day, and they were all done with babies and raising kids. They married women closer to their own age who felt the same way. So, if that’s a dealbreaker, you need to let me know now.” 

He’s quiet as he thinks about what you’ve said. Nerves swirl in your belly. You’re hoping and praying this isn’t the end. 

“I had a daughter,” he finally tells you. “Sarah. She was my pride and joy, my everythin’. She died in my arms twenty years ago on the night of the outbreak. It broke me. I was a shell of a man from that point on, and then Ellie came into my life. I was hired to transport her across the country, but things, uh, didn’t work out when I got her to her destination. So I brought her here to Jackson, where we’d be close to Tommy, and she’d get to have a somewhat normal life as a kid. 

“For twenty years, I swore to myself I’d never bring another child into this godawful world.” At his admission, your heart plummets. “Was really fuckin’ careful when I’d fuck to limit the risk as much as possible, too, which meant I never finished inside my partner. I never had the desire to, or would ever humor the idea.” 

Now, you’re confused. “If you’re so anti-creampies, why is your come dripping out of me as we speak?” 

He smiles and caresses your cheek with a gun-calloused palm. “Because in all of my fifty-six years on this planet, the happiest I’ve ever been is when I’m a dad. I fuckin’ love bein’ a father, and I know I’m too old to even be thinkin’ about babies, but if it happened? I wouldn’t be upset about it. I’d welcome it.” 

He’s perfect, and you’ve never wanted a man more. 

“I know we’ve only known each other for less than a day, but marry me.” Joel chuckles. “I’m serious. Make me your wife. I will fuck your brains out, have as many babies as you want, bake you delicious things, and treat Ellie like she’s my own kid. You’re everything and more that I want in a partner, and I think we’d be good together.” 

His thumb strokes over the apple of your cheek. “I’m flattered by your offer, sweetheart. I truly am, and have half a mind to accept it, but marriage isn’t somethin’ you rush into. I know most everyone does these days with how uncertain everythin’ is, but I’d like to take my time to court you properly before we decide to get married.” 

You sigh. “If you insist.” You glance up at the clock on your bedside table; the red numbers show it’s after ten p.m. Your gaze returns to his. “We’ve got less than two hours before you need to head home, Cinderella. Would you be up for another, softer, maybe sensual round—I’m thinking missionary—then we can shower, you can help me get my mattress onto the floor, and take off? Or do you want to shower, help me get my mattress onto the floor, and hang out in the living room, watching a movie or something until you need to leave?” 

“Another round, we shower, we leave your bed alone, and you come home with me instead of sleepin’ on the floor.” 

“To your house, where Ellie is…?” 

“I’ll sneak you in. She spends most of her time in her room anyway. She won’t know you’re there.” 

“If you want to hold off on her knowing about me, I don’t think this is a good idea.”

You don’t know how he does it. One minute, you’re lying half on top of him, and the next, he’s got you beneath him on your back, his hips cradled by your thighs. He kisses your clavicle, saying into your skin, “It’ll be fine.” His lips trail up your throat, making you shiver when he sucks on your pulse point, his cock hardening against your core. “Come home with me.” Joel continues his journey, laving kisses along the underside of your jaw to nip at your chin. He hovers his face over yours, searching your eyes. “Will you?” 

“Only if you’re sure.”

“Quit your worryin’. I told you, it’ll be fine. She’ll have no idea.” 

“Okay, then. I’ll go with you.” 

He smiles. “Good girl.” 

Joel wasn’t kidding about sneaking you into his house. That’s how you find yourself freshly fucked, showered, and clothed, creeping up a dark staircase behind him and into a hallway, where he signals for you to stay because Ellie’s door is open. He walks over to her doorway, leaning in it like he’s done it a hundred times before, the light shining on his face showing that fond smile he always has when he talks about her. 

“Hey, kiddo.” 

“Hey, Joel.” 

“You have a good day?” 

“Scooping horse shit?” You have to hold in your laugh. “Not really, but afterward, Jesse and I went to Dina’s to watch a movie.”

Jesse and Dina are good kids.

“What movie?” 

“Star Wars. The first two, but I wasn't really paying attention. We were too busy joking around and trying to throw popcorn into each other’s mouths.”

“What’d you do after that?” 

“We went and had dinner. Did you get some of the apple pie? It was really fucking good. I think the peach cobbler is still my favorite, though.”

You also made the peach cobbler. Ellie has good taste. It’s your favorite, too. 

“Yeah?” he asks. 

“Yeah.” 

“Well, hopefully it’ll come ‘round again soon.” 

Once traders come through with more peaches, you’ll be able to. It’s adorable watching him interact with her and seeing how much he clearly loves her. 

“I sure hope so. How was your day?” 

“Good. They had me out patrollin’, and I went through some houses to see if I could find anythin’ good. Did you get the tapes I left on your desk?” 

“I did! I listened to the Backstreet Guys, or whatever the fuck they’re called—people used to like that shit?” 

Is she talking about the Backstreet Boys?

Joel chuckles. “Sarah loved them.” 

“She usually has great taste in music,” Ellie replies, “but I’m not sure about this one.” 

“Well, I’ll tell you right now, NSYNC is similar—” She is talking about the Backstreet Boys, and how very ‘good dad’ of Joel to be familiar with the music his child loves. “—but I think you’ll enjoy the Halican Drops albums. That was Sarah’s favorite band. I’ve been lookin’ forever to find you their music, and I hit the jackpot today when I came across a kid’s room that hadn’t been picked clean.” 

“Oh, sweet. I’ll listen to them before bed. Thanks, Joel.” 

“You’re welcome, kiddo. Don’t stay up too late. You gotta be up early to scoop more horse shit.” 

She groans. “God, I fucking hope not. Can you ask Tommy to assign me to anything else? Like anything else.”

His voice softens. “Yeah, I’ll do that in the mornin’. Night, Ellie.” 

“Night, Joel.” 

He pulls her door closed and waits ten seconds, then motions for you to come to him. He grabs your hand when you’re within reach and leads you further down the hall to his room at the end, where he opens the door and flips on the light. He ushers you in, closing the door and locking it behind you.

The first thing you notice is that it smells like him—crushed thyme, gun oil, and something uniquely Joel, mixed with the scent of freshly cut wood. Then you take in the area, the paintings that depict cowboys, his woodworking workstation, what you assume is Ellie’s future guitar leaning against it, another one hanging on his wall, and further in the room, a third you think is the one he actually plays. The piece of bone he got from your uncle is sitting atop the worktable, along with little metal parts and his tools. 

“I like your room,” you tell him. “It’s cozy.” He’s got a comfy-looking accent chair you could imagine him reading in and a desk by the door with a drawing of a moth on top of it—what he plans to carve into Ellie’s guitar.

He spins you to face him. “Thanks.” He grabs the hem of your shirt and pulls it up off your arms, followed by your sports bra. “You’re my first guest.” 

He grunts, crouching down in front of you. Joel gets his fingers under the waistband of your leggings and underwear, tugging them down. You hold onto his shoulders for balance as you step out of them, and he removes your socks, leaving you completely nude.

“Is that why you were adamant about me coming over tonight? So you could finally christen your bed?” 

He stands back up, one of his knees popping. “No.” Joel kisses you, and you hold his scruffy cheeks as he works open the buttons of his flannel. He shrugs it off and unbuckles his belt, his lips leaving yours to get his jeans undone and shoved down, followed by his boxer briefs. 

“When I said ‘christen your bed,’ I meant have sex in it for the first time. Why are we naked if we’re not gonna fuck?” 

All of his clothes are on the floor, including his socks, and instead of answering your question, he straightens and captures your lips once more, his hands gripping your waist. He kisses you as he walks you backward toward his neatly made bed, and when you’re beside it, he breaks away to pull back the blankets.

“Get in.” It’s not a suggestion, and you do as he says, getting under the sheets and turning on your side, propping your head up with your arm to watch what he’s doing.  

“The lack of clothes and kissing is giving me mixed signals.” 

“What do you mean?” he asks on his way to turn off the overhead light. 

“When I’m naked with someone and we’re making out, that’s the lead-up to fucking.” 

The room goes dark, save for the moonlight slipping through the closed blinds, offering some illumination as he returns, going around the bed and crawling in on the other side. You turn over to look at him as he gets to the middle of the bed. “C’mere.” He reaches toward you, and you scoot like he asks until he’s able to pull you up against the solid warmth of his front. He curls around you, one arm draped over your waist, the other under your head, his large palm resting gently on your spine. “Have you ever slept with someone?” he asks. 

You blink up at him in the dark, quietly replying, “We literally just fucked twice.” 

“No.” He brushes his thumb lightly over your back. “Not sex. I mean, have you ever just fallen asleep with someone?” 

The question has your breath catching a little, but not from arousal. No, this is something completely different. It’s warmer. Sweeter, and it makes your chest ache for some reason. 

Your mouth opens to reply, but no words come out immediately. 

It has you thinking back, really thinking back. Sure, you had nights where men stayed over. Nights when you were tangled in sweaty sheets with someone who’d be gone by morning. But this? Naked and held? No rush. No expectations. Just simple, quiet skin-on-skin closeness? 

“No,” you finally admit. “Never.” 

Joel hums a contented sound in his throat. He kisses the top of your head, his facial hair lightly scratching your forehead. “I hope you like it, sweetheart,” he murmurs. 

You lie there, stunned. You assumed he asked you here for the same reason men before him invited you into their beds—to fuck, and maybe some post-sex cuddling before your clothes are back on and the mood fades. 

But Joel doesn’t just want you. He wants you with him, here like this, in a way that feels much more intimate than sex. He doesn’t just wreck you with his body; it’s the way he chooses you when he doesn’t have to, how he holds you like you matter, like you’re his. With him, you’re not being used, you’re being kept. 

That dawning realization sinks in, curling around something tender behind your ribs. 

Your voice is small when you whisper, “You didn’t want me here for sex, did you?” 

“No,” he answers. “I wanted you here ‘cause I’ll sleep better with you next to me.” 

Your throat tightens, staring into the dark, feeling a little overwhelmed because you don’t know what to do with all of this affection settling over you. 

“Oh.” 

Joel chuckles, pulling you in tighter, tucking your head under his chin. “Yeah. Oh.” The room goes quiet, then he adds, “Also, don’t want you breakin’ my bed.”

“Excuse me?” 

“You heard me,” he laughs into your hair. “You ride like a fuckin’ hellcat. That old frame of yours didn’t stand a chance.” 

His statement has your mouth dropping open, a mix of offense and flattery.

“That’s rude and slanderous because we both agreed you broke the bed.” 

“We agreed on no such thing. Tomorrow, I will even show you proof that you rode me into the sunset and your bed straight into the ground by where it snapped.” He kisses the top of your head again. “Gotta reinforce both our beds before I let you do that again. I think your couch could take the abuse, though, so that’s an option.” 

He has you biting back a smile. “I hate you.” 

“No, you don’t.” 

“No, I don’t.” 

“You wanna marry me.” 

“I’m not so sure I do now.” 

“You do.”

“Maybe.” 

“Six months.” 

“Six months, what?” 

“If we’re still together in six months, I’ll marry you.” 

Your heart rate increases. “Really?” 

“Yes. Now, get some sleep.” 

Masterlist

Thank you for reading! If you’d like to be tagged in my fics, please fill out the form in my bio, on my masterlist, or just let me know! 

[sultrycitron]

Husband Joel

Synopsis: really none!! These are head cannons of if Joel was your husband. There will be sfw and nsfw mixed.

What to expect: pre and somewhat post apocalyptic Joel, marriage, talks of children, pregnancy (Sarah exists), NSFW head cannons such as fingering and insinuated eating out, and uh.. death

Joel, who proposed to you in the dumbest way possible. Aka, you found the ring on his dresser and he played it off as if he meant for that to happen (he didn't)

Joel, who on your wedding night worshipped you in your wedding dress.

"You look s'pretty.. just for me.." Your newly wedded husband murmured softly against your throat, hands running down your sides and memorizing the feeling of your clothes. As much as he wanted to tear it off of you, he wanted to savor this. Wanted to look at you as you fell apart in that gown and know that you're his. He wanted to take his time with this.

"Joel—" you started, trying to wriggle out of your wedding dress, he stopped you. His brown eyes looked up at you mischievously before his lips met yours, humming as he kissed you. After a long moment, he pulled away and rested his forehead against yours. "Don't." He panted out, gulping and squeezing your hips. "Want t'make love to you in this pretty lil dress." He whispered, before sinking to his knees and going under your skirts.

Joel, who was beyond ecstatic when he figured out you two would become parents.

You stared blankly at the pregnancy test. Positive. Sure, you and Joel had been married for awhile now but you two had never discussed kids. You sat at the kitchen counter waiting for your husband to get home.

When he finally did, he furrowed his eyebrows in worry when he saw your face. Before he had a chance to ask, you spoke up. "Joel we.. we need to talk." You murmured, squeezing the pregnancy test. He slowly nodded before looking down at your hands. After a moment — it clicked.

".. are you—?" He didn't finish his sentence, mouth going dry. You nodded and prepared for something.. but your husband let out a laugh of shock. When you looked up at him, you could've sworn there were stars in his eyes. "You're— oh my god, we're gonna be parents. We're gonna be parents!" He said happily, tears rolling down his face as he laughed and quickly pulled you into a hug.

Joel, who had started preparing a baby room just days after you told him the news.

You came home after a long day of work, surprised to see your husband's truck already in the driveway. What was he doing home already? Didn't he have work today?? He was nowhere to be seen, so you started to slowly make your way up the stairs. One of the doors was ajar and when you peeked inside..

"Joel, oh my god." You snorted, looking at your husband painting along the trim. He looked up at you like he'd been caught red handed, lavender paint on his cheek and hands. You rolled your eyes playfully and set a hand on your flat stomach. "We don't even know if it's a boy or a girl yet."

Your husband stood up, setting the paint brush down in the paint before walking over to you - wrapping his arms around your waist in greeting. Paint definitely got on your shirt. ".. I read that lavender is calmin' for babies." He reasoned.

Joel, who gently fucked you as your pregnancy developed

Joel grunted, a hand supporting your hip as his hips met yours in slow thrusts. He was always too scared of accidentally hurting you or the baby, so no matter how much reassurance you gave — he treated you like you were glass.

You moaned softly, eyes fluttering shut as he leaned down to suck on your breast and massage the other with his free hand. "Oh, fuck.. Joel—" "Shh, shh.. I've got you, sugar. Just lemme get m'fill before I gotta share." He whispered against your ever swelling breasts, switching places with his hand to shower them in equal attention.

When you came on his cock, he moaned softly against your breasts. He pulled away with a soft pop and continued to rock his hips into yours. "That's it, such a good girl f'me.. that's it mama.." he whispered, riding out your high as he chased his own. Oh this man would be the death of you.

Joel, who cried when Sarah was born and held her like she was the most precious thing.

Joel, who would quietly pleasure you when Sarah was asleep

"Shhh.. 's okay, baby." He quietly shushed, thumb rubbing your swollen clit as two of his fingers worked themselves in and out of you beneath the sheets. You'd been terrified of waking your toddler up, but Joel wanted to make you feel good. You'd been so tense lately.

You softly cried and buried your head in your husband's shoulder as you felt your stomach tighten, trembling as his fingers found your sensitive spot and made sure to precisely aim. You let out a quiet sob into his shoulder as you came, feeling his fingers gently thrust. "Did so good f'me.."

Joel, who lost it all in the blink of an eye

He wished with every fiber of his body that he hadn't gotten separated from you two. By the time he got there, the bullets rang out — followed shortly by his own to take out the officer.

He ran towards you and your little girl, nearly tripping but continuing to run towards you. He fell to his knees and breathed heavily, shaking his head as his arms carefully scooped you and Sarah to his body. "No.. no— baby, baby get up." He pleaded with you, seeing the light slowly leaving your eyes as they struggled to meet his. He panicked and looked at the bundle of joy you both worked to create, sobbing and holding her stomach.

"Sarah? Sarah, baby, it'll be okay— hey, hey, look at me.. Sarah. It'll be okay, I'm gonna.. I'm gonna get you n' mama outta this, okay?" He desperately pleaded, wanting to believe it himself. He trembled as he rose to his feet, helplessly cradling you both as he aimlessly searched for help. Anything. Anyone. But he could feel the way you and Sarah went limp against him.

Joel, who had never been the same

A/N: wowie!! That came out so much sadder than originally planned!!!! Requests are open lovelies!

[sultrycitron]

Bella Ramsey my beloved

I don't EVER wanna hear you say they don't know how to act again.

[sultrycitron]

oh my god I need more lactation kink joel 😭 can I request one where they’re having sex (maybe they’ve just started having sex after she’s healed from the baby so it’s one of the first times after a long waiting period) and she starts leaking and she’s embarrassed and feeling insecure and he laps up the milk without hesitation and then plays with her tits and nips and gives her lots of praise 🍼

Milk & honey

Pairings: Jackson!Joel miller x fem!reader

Content warnings: Lactation kink, postpartum sex, breast milk, Dom!joel, soft praise kink, penetrative sex, glasses kink, body worship, milk insecurity, fluff mixed with smut, established relationship, reader has recently had a baby.

Word count: 1000

The first time Joel touched you like this again was slow, tentative, reverent. Like he thought you might break. You hadn't let him touch you for weeks. It because you didn't want to, but because your body was still healing. And he waited. Every long night beside you, every morning holding your baby in his arms with the same quiet awe he used to look at you, he waited.

Tonight was different.

You'd put your baby down after a warm bath and Joel made dinner, watched you as you sat barefoot at the table, cradling a mug of tea in the tired hands. Your body still felt like someone else's. Not your own. Not yet. The soft weight of your breasts, the roundess in your stomach, the way your hips still ached when you walked too fast. You caught him looking, again. And this time, you didn't flinch.

~~~

You slipped into bed whilst Joel was reading his book before bedtime, his glasses perched on his nose.. once you got inside the bed he curled behind you, thickhands roaming your waist, your belly, cupping the swell of your breasts under your sleep shirt.

"Still so full," he mumuered, voice low and scratchy.

You blushed. "Joel-"

"I missed you," he said, not bothering to hide the desperation in his voice. "Missed this. Missed you." You turned in his arms, kissed dhim slow. Let him undress like you were made of something sacred. He didn't rush. Not even when his cock twitched hard in his boxers, not even when your thighs spread open for him like muscle memory. When he got on top of you, glasses still percher on his nose, beard brushing against your jaw, you let out the smallest, neediest moan..

"God, baby," he brather. "You sure?"

"Yes," you whispered, hips lifting to meet his. "Please joel. I wan you,"

His hands slid under your thighs, pushing them open so he could settle between them. You felt everything, every inch of his thick, slow thrusts as he eased inside you. It was overwhelming. A stretch you hadn't felt in weeks..

Your breath hitched.

"You okay?" He murmured, lips brushing your temple. His glasses slipping slightly down his nose.

You nodded, tears stinging behind your eyes from the fullness. "Just missed you"

He began to move, gentle and deep, grinding down just right so your body opened for him. You gasped at how intense it felt after so long. Joel grunted, slow and deep in his chest.r "so fuckin' tight baby. Missed bein' inside you. My sweet girl"

And then, your body betrayed you.

A sudden warmth formed across your chest, dampening the front of your shirt.

You froze.

Joel noticed instantly. "What's wrong?"

"I- I'm leaking.." you said quietly, eyes darting away, trying to hide the wet fabric clinging to your skin, "I'm sorry, I didn't realize-"

"Hey," he said, cupping your cheek, still moving inside you but slower now, like a rocking lullaby. "Don't apologize. You hear me?" Your eyes met his. Hellled down, saw the dark spots forming around your nipples, the milk soaking through your shirt.

And then? Joel moaned.

The deep, filthy sound of it made you shiver.

"Jesus, baby.."

You blinked, stunned. "What?""

He sat up slightly, still buried inside you, and pushed your shirt up to your collarbones. Your swollen, milk-heavy tits bounced free. Joel's eyes darkened behind his foggy glasses. "Look at you," he whispered recently. "All full for me" he ducked his head, tongue immediately latching around one taut nipple, sucking greedily.

You gasped.

"Joel-"

He groaned like a man starved. One hand kept your tit steady while he drank, warm milk spilling into his mouth. "Fuck, you taste so sweet," he murmured, lapping and teasing your nipple with his tongue before switching to the other, moaning low as he suckled again.

The sight of it, Joel between your breasts, glasses starting to fog up, beard damp with milk. Was too much.

You keened under him, fingers tangling in his greying curls. "God- Joel, you're gonna make me cum " he pulled back with a wet pop, lips shining, pupils blown wide behind his misted lenses. "Cum for me, babygirl, wanna feel that sweet little pussy squeeze me" you whimpered, hips grinding up. "I feel- so gross..." Joel shock his head, breathing hard, pushing your thighs open wide as he thrusted into you. "You're beautiful. Fuckin' divine. This body? Gave me a family. Gave me everything. And now she's gonna cum for me, isn't she?"

He thrust hard, deep. The friction of his pubic hair against your clit, the milk on your breasts cooling in the air, the filthy praises spilling from his mouth, it all collided.

Your orgasm hit like a wave.

You cried out, nails dragging down his back as your body seized and shuddered beneath him. "That's it," he growled, "fuck, that's my girl. Felt you. So fuckin' good,baby. So good" he fucked you through it, chasing his own high.

When he came, it was with a grunt and a buried moan against your throat, hips jerking as he filed you with everything he had.

He then collapsed on top of you, both of you panting, tangled together in sweat and milk and warmth.

You noticed it first.

His glasses, still on. Completely fogged over.

You giggled breathlessly. "Joel, your glasses..."

He looked up, slightly dazed. "Huh?"

You reached up, gently taking them off his face. They were steamed to hell, smudged with your skin and dampness. You laughed softly, wiping them clean on the hem of the sheet. Joel's face broke into a slow, lazy grin. "Guess I forgot to take 'em off."

You slid them back onto his nose and cupped his cheek. "I like you with them on "

"Yeah?" He murmured, pressing a kiss to your lips. "You like seein' how much I worship you?"

You flushed, letting your hand fall to your breast again. Milk had started to bead at your nipple once more.

Joel's eyes darkened.

He leaned down and licked it up like honey.

"Sweetest thing I've ever tasted," he whispered, "you keep makin' it, baby. I'll keep drinkin'."

[sultrycitron]

How do you feel knowing someone at some point could jork it to your writing

Rub my head and call me Steve Harvey because

[sultrycitron]

I'm Still Here

Jackson!Ellie x f!reader

Synopsis: Ellie still has nightmares of when she lost Joel, even years after it had happened. In this, she never went after Abby. You try to offer a physical distraction to calm her down.

What to expect: spoilers for S2E2, subby Ellie, tears, crying, very soft smut. I feel like we don't see enough gentle smut of Ellie. Fingering, kissing, you know the drill

She could still feel his eyes on her from his final moments. The ragged final breath he took when Abby finished him off, but he didn't look away.

"Joel! Joel, get up! Fucking get up!" Ellie sobbed, having called out his name a thousand times. This exact scenario had plagued her dreams since it happened. She was standing now, no longer on the ground holding her stomach. no one was holding her down. So why couldn't she move? All she could do was watch. He didn't even look like himself, beaten black and blue.. the only thing that she recognized behind his bloodied figure was those eyes. Those brown eyes that poured into her soul and ripped it out of her body, full of so much love until the very end. She never even got to apologize or say three simple words. I love you. But grief had a funny way of being cruel. The moment she shut her tear stricken eyes, she heard his voice.

"It's your fault, you know." That familiar southern drawl spoke, and when Ellie looked up - she was horrified by the sight. Joel standing in front of her, hair sticking to his bloody face and his teeth broken, his leg completely mangled from blunt force. He limped, getting closer and closer to Ellie. "Shoulda declined takin' you at all. Atleast then, Tess'd be alive. I'd still be alive. But you have a funny habit of killin' those around'ya, don't you? Guess it makes sense. You're just like the rest of yer kind" He spoke cruelly, voice broken and mangled. The young girl looked up at him, broken and lips trembling as she struggled to answer his words. This wasn't Joel. This wasn't Joel. This wasn't Joel—

"My.. my kind-?"

"Cordyceps."

The way the word rolled out so smoothly made her chest hurt. Each blow hurt more than the last. "Think 'bout it. Riley, Tess, Sam, Henry, me.. we'd all still be alive if we hadn't met you. But you jus' take and take. I'd even argue that you're worse than the rest of them because you're aware. Whose next? Your girlfriend?" The mere thought of losing you after she had lost so many people killed her. Everyone she ever cared about had left her or died, and god, if she had to pick between those two options she'd want you to leave and save yourself. You were the only reason she stayed here in Jackson and didn't run off to kill Abby and herself in the process.

Tears ran down her freckles cheeks, still unable to move as she looked Joel in the eyes. She shook her head and hiccupped. She couldn't look at him like this but she couldn't look away either. He was gone the second she blinked. "J.. Joel? Joel, wait— please. Please I'm sorry. I'm sorry, come back—" she wept, having lost him all over again. When she looked down, her hands trembled and were drenched in his blood.

"Mh.. 'm sorry.. 'm sorry, Joel.."

The whispered words woke you up, groaning as you pushed yourself up and rubbed your eyes. What time was it?? You look up and squint at the window of the home where you and your wife slept. It was still dark out. You look down, eyes softening at the sight of your beloved trembling and weeping apologies in her sleep. It'd been 10 years since Joel passed but it still haunted her. You lost count of how many times you'd seen her like this. You reach a hand out, brushing messy locks behind her ears. A grimace took place on your face when you felt some strands stick to her forehead. Night sweats.

Carefully shaking her shoulder and kissing her cheek, you whispered. "Ellie..? Baby, c'mon.. get up.."

Your wife woke up with a strangled gasp, sitting up so fast she hit her forehead against yours on the way. The both of you groaned in pain before Ellie looked up at you, her chest rising and falling rapidly in adrenaline before her eyes softened. You were still here. She hasn't lost you yet. "Shit.. sweetheart, are you okay?" Your voice cut her out of her staring, reminding her that everything was alright. Ellie was never a sensitive woman. Hell, she'd fist fight a clicker if you let her - but she quickly crawled closer to you and crumbled in your arms. She sniffled and clung on tight, flinching a bit when your arms came around her. "Hey, hey.. Els, it's okay."

Ellie buried herself in your throat, heavily inhaling your scent and feeling your pulse. Hear your breathing. "I'm.. I'm so glad you're— you're okay. I haven't.. haven't lost you yet." She wept pathetically against you. Your wife. Who was tougher than anyone else you knew, tattoos and piercings.. was sobbing in your arms. You gently rubbed her back, whispering in her pierced ear. "Els, it's okay.. I'm not going anywhere. You aren't losing me."

Oh, your poor baby. You rubbed firm circles into her back, rocking the both of you back in forth as you tried to soothe her aching. But you had an idea.. distractions usually worked, right?

You gently draw Ellie back from your flesh, wiping the tears from her cheeks before leaning in and kissing her. Your lips danced along her trembling ones softly, happy when she mustered the energy to join the tango between the two of you. A gentle hand pushed her onto her back, never breaking the kiss and comfort between your proximity. The kiss only broke after a few long moments. "I love you so much. I love this,"

You kissed her lips again, pulling back to plant a kiss to her nose. "And this.. and this.." you murmured against every piece of her you kissed, pulling back and adoring her from above. Her cheeks were wet from tears, eyes glossy and searching yours for a cure to her ache. "I love all of this and more.. why would I ever want to be anywhere else but right here?" You knew that she was worried about more than just you leaving. But you didn't want to upset her even more by bringing up your possible death in the future. But your comfort seemed to be working, her breathing becoming steady.

A hand trailed down her stomach to her boxers, pausing in its tracks. Ellie always slept without pants on. You gently squeezed her hip. "I'm gonna take your mind off of everything, but only if you let me.. okay? Is that alright?" You asked softly, seeing her nod. "I need verbal consent, honey."

"Yes.. that's— that's more than fine."

You smiled tenderly at her, before slipping your hand beneath the waistline of her draws. A lovely gasp emitted from her throat as you gently rubbed your middle finger through her folds. You had one hand down her underwear and the other gently messing with her hair as she squirmed. Ellie was used to being the 'top', but she needed extra attention right now. You shushed her softly as you used two fingers to circle her clit, feeling the wet slick build beneath your fingertips. She was so amazing. You continued with your ministrations, slow and gentle to the point her brain became foggy with need rather than pain.

You kissed away the remaining tears on her face before nuzzling your nose against hers. Your breaths intertwined in a rhythm, yours calm while hers was inching towards erratic. "B.. baby, please.." she panted out, needing to feel you inside of her. You were everything she needed and more. Who were you to deny her wishes? Your fingers trailed down, carefully pushing her folds apart before sinking in. You kissed her softly as you did this, swallowing her moans so she wouldn't feel embarrassed. You only wanted her to feel in bliss right now.

Her tongue weakly fought yours, saliva dripping down the side of her mouth into her hair as she allowed herself to get lost in the sensations. You scissored your fingers slowly, feeling her whine rumble in your lips from the pleasurable stretch before you continued to thrust your fingers in and out slowly. You opened your eyes just momentarily, watching how hers fluttered when you found the gummy spot inside of her. You pulled back from the kiss — a long line of saliva breaking once you were away long enough.

"Right there?" You asked softly, watching as your wife panted and let out soft little oh's and ah's.. your fingers curled up, massaging the delicate bundle of nerves that made her see stars. You saw her mouth fall wide open, soft sobs of pleasure seeping out. "That's it, my love.. let go.."

Her walls fluttered around your fingers, a whimper parting from her lips as you gently rode out her orgasm. Once all was said and done, you pulled your fingers out of her and wiped them off on your pants. As much as you'd like to taste her, you knew she just needed comfort right now. You laid down beside her and pulled the heavy blanket over both of you, kissing her cheek as your arms wrapped around her.

"Good night, I love you.."

"I love you too.." she slurred out softly as she fell asleep in your arms.

She slept soundly for the rest of the night.

A/N: requests are open!! Feel free to request<3

[sultrycitron]

Masterlist

✎﹏ The Last of Us

Gentle Hands - Jackson!Joel x reader

I'm Still Here - Jackson!Ellie x f!reader

Husband Joel Headcannons - Joel x f!reader

✎﹏ Epic the Musical

✎﹏ Fallout

✎﹏ Stardew Valley

✎﹏ Original Stories

[sultrycitron]

Gentle Hands

Jackson!Joel x Reader

Synopsis: After settling down in Jackson, life is getting better for Joel. He has everything he could ever want, including you. But he's still so scared of hurting you with his hands that have brought so much pain to others.

What to expect: yearning old man, Joel whimpers, praise to the max, body worship, finger foods (fingering and eating out), p in v, fluff, age gap, minor nip stuff, very very tame stuff, no pronouns for reader but female anatomy

Joel was never a kind man. Even before the apocalypse, people would describe him as off-putting and unfriendly. He could hear it in their silence and feel it in their eyes. But he never cared, after all, why should he? They were just people passing by in his life. No one he wanted to stick around. When he lost his daughter, his brother was the only person alive he cared enough to keep around. But that all changed when he met Ellie. When he arrived in Jackson. And finally, when he met you. You were younger than him, you were kinder than him - you were better than him. With your soft smiles and your ability to make the world seem like a better place. And at first, he hated you for it. The old man hated how despite everything, you could still find the strength to be happy without someone to be happy for. You weren't just surviving. You were thriving.

But you were like the cords to a guitar he strung, difficult to understand but so alluring to play. And god help him, you were addicting. You brought a smile to his face even as he tried to fight it off, and you looked at him with so much admiration as if he didn't have an unfathomable amount of blood on his hands. As if he didn't flinch every time he reached out to touch you, scared he'd ruin your white coat of purity with the hands stained red and his fingernails stained black from the lives he's stolen. You loved him even when he hated you. And he never cared about the people who stayed and went in his life before, but he was horrified of losing you and even more horrified of ruining you. How long until the blood from his wolfish teeth weighed down your soft coat of white??

"——–—??"

....

"Joel? Are you okay??"

The voice cut through his thoughts and the ringing in his ears, his head shooting up to meet the gaze of whoever was talking to him. His brown eyes softened when he saw it was you. His eyes flickered to the gentle hand on his shoulder and then back up to your worried face. Here he was on your couch, surrounded by the essence of you in every little thing, with your voice caressing his eardrums and your hand leaving so much warmth on his shoulder that was somehow not enough. He didn't deserve this.

".. Yeah, 'm okay darlin." He said after a moment, offering a smile and reaching his hand up to rest on yours before he hesitated. You didn't deserve something so vile against your skin. "Just a little tired, I 'spose."

Your eyebrows knitted together in concern, but you didn't push it. Joel was a stubborn man, you doubted he'd open up even if you begged him to. It was like trying to make a cat bark. It just wouldn't happen. Sometimes you wonder if the man in front of you was really human — at times, it didn't feel like it. The way he was so distant with himself made him feel like a ghost. You nodded in acknowledgement to his weariness, before sitting beside him and giving him one of those smiles he felt guilty for cursing when he first laid eyes on you. That was the same smile that made him feel like he was just Joel. And that's all he ever wanted to be.

The night always passed by like shooting stars when he was with you, as cheesy as it might sound. You two were talking about dream careers as children, futures you'd always envisioned before the disease spread and the bombs fell. Before humans became the equivalent of cockroaches. Joel was laughing, the lines on his face becoming more enriched with every wide smile that reached his glossy eyes.

"I always imagined m'self being a farmer. With a bunch'a sheep, name each one somethin like Mary."

"Mary? Like.. Mary had a little lamb? You'd seriously name a sheep that??"

"Abso-fuckin-lutely."

"God, that's so stupid."

You both laughed, shaking your head at the imagination of Joel surrounded by sheep with bad puns for names. The laughter died down, leaving a comforting silence to settle between the both of you. Joel was so pretty when he was happy, a rare sight that you found yourself itching to see more often. His silvering hair was illuminated by the dim light of your living room, his eyes soft and joyful behind his glasses. You didn't even realize what you had done until you shut your eyes, the feeling of his rough lips against your own. He tensed up but quickly melted into it, lips desperate for affection he had been denied for so many years. He seemed to lean in and pull back at the same time, but your hands carefully cradled his shoulders and guided him to complete acceptance. Just a moment had passed, but it felt like eternity. The both of you pulled away from each other's lips, Joel looking up at you in awe and love all at once. But the older man quickly retreated.

He wiped his lips off on his sleeve, his brain finally catching up to what he had done. Before you could even speak, he shook his head. "I.. 'm sorry." He hurriedly apologized, eyes landing on your lips as if searching for any signs of disease he spread. But you were fine. He was terrified you'd drop dead if he let his guard down for even just one moment. But you — gods above.. you reached out to take his face with no hesitation, it caused his heart to stop for just a moment. You looked at him with so much love, more love than he could bear.

You ran your thumbs across his roughened cheeks, the scratchiness of his beard tickling the crevices of your flesh. But you didn't mind. "Why are you sorry?" You asked, voice hushed and genuine. You wanted to know. No, you needed to know why he was so sorry for allowing himself to love and be loved. You watched his lips barely part, trying to form an answer but nothing came out. There was silence before finally an answer. "Because I'll hurt you." He said, wanting nothing more than to kiss you and have his hands where they ached to be, but the venom that coated his tongue and the blood that changed his hands was too much. He couldn't put you through that.

Your eyes softened, thumbs coming to a steady stop on his face. You leaned in and captured his lips with your own again, feeling him fight himself for self control. He wanted to give in, so much more than you could ever imagine. But he was scared. When you finally pulled back, your lips grazed against his as your breaths intermingled. "You won't hurt me. I promise, Joel." You gently assured, a hand running from his cheek to his chest. You watched him shiver at the lightest touch, his eyes yearning. "Just.. let me love you. Please."

You guided him to your space. This house was yours, but your room was still your safety. The place where you were at your best and your worst. You wanted to bring Joel in, to love him in the most vulnerable way you could. He was as nervous as a virgin, eyes trailing over every detail in your room down to the smallest stain. But they always came back to you. You smiled at him, soft and encouraging. He hesitated. But his large hands trembled, hesitant but finally resting on your waist. His lips drew into a thin line as he second guessed himself, but you ran your fingers through his hair. "Joel. It's okay. I'm not going anywhere." You carefully reminded him.

He took a deep breath before giving your waist a comforting squeeze. He was more comforting himself than he was you. "Alright, darlin'.. but if I make you feel uncomfortable, you have to tell me the moment I do. Okay?" He said softly, not moving until you nodded in understanding.

Joel's hands were experienced, rubbing up and down your sides as he leaned in to kiss you once more. His thumbs teased the edges of your chest, his palms firmly massaging your ribs down to your hips. He took control of the kiss, not dominating but soft. Desperate. The longer it went on, the closer he pulled you, the more he tried to make you both become one. You hummed softly into the kiss, feeling him shiver as you encouragingly caressed the nape of his neck with the bare minimum of your fingertips. The older man carefully sat you down on the edge of your bed, pulling his lips away from yours and trailing them down to your throat. Open mouthed kisses were left in his wake, the vibration of him moaning softly from the bliss of just touching you making you sigh softly.

"Joel.."

He was so lost in your softness, his hands carefully working your shirt off. He continued his trail of kisses downward once more of your skin was exposed to him, shining like the sun. He wanted to bask in it forever. His eyes flickered up at you for consent, lips inches away from the rosy bud on your chest. Your breath hitched at the sight.. he was not a wolf. He was a puppy. Helpless for affection and yearning for it, leaning into whatever he could get.. it made your heart flutter. You smiled at him and carefully curled your fingers in his hair, bringing him in closer as silent consent. His eyes fluttered shut, pressing a soft kiss to your nipple before enveloping it in the warmth of his tongue. A soft gasp that bubbled from your chest told him he was doing good, and that was more than enough for him.

When you imagined doing this with Joel countless times, this was never how you imagined it. You always thought he'd be dominating and rough in bed. But he was far from it, here he was, on his poor old knees worshipping your bust as if it was heaven. You couldn't look away from the sight before you, it was beautiful. He eagerly licked and suckled at the hardening bud, while a hand carefully pinched the other one to keep it from being neglected. You always thought he'd be a selfish lover for some reason, the way he held himself so high. But he hadn't even focused on himself a bit while loving you. Your chest rose and fell rapidly, biting your lip to drown out the embarrassing noises trying to crawl out of your mouth. Joel pulled away, panting and switching his hand out for his lips. He tenderly kissed and licked.

"fuck, baby.. you're s'perfect.. so beautiful. So soft. I can't believe I get to touch you like this, it's too good to be true." He mumbled in-between gentle suckles and kisses, his hands still gently rubbing your sides until they came down to your pants. Two fingers hooked in the loops of your pants, shimmying them down your curves until they pooled beneath your feet, hanging on by just one ankle as his mouth continued its loving assault. The heat in your cheeks was unbearable, watching in anticipation as he gave your nipple one last kiss before trailing kisses down your stomach, whispering praise all along the way until he got to the hem of your underwear. He looked up at you, eyes soft and pleading, but understanding if you said no. You nodded like you had before, but it wasn't enough for him.

With a deep sigh, you smiled despite the flush in your cheeks - running your fingers through his hair. "Yes, honey.. you have permission." You didn't know exactly what he was wanting permission for, but whatever it was, you'd be fine with. His experienced hands and lips had you melting. Once given verbal consent, Joel attempted to peel your underwear off with his teeth. After some struggle he gave up and just pulled them down, making you giggle despite the harsh cold air that touched your core. Joel stared and admired the sight of you, feeling like a starving man by just looking at what was in front of him. He leaned in, pressing a kiss to your clit and giving a few testing licks to see your reaction. The way your breathing changed, your chest arched higher into the air, it was all so beautiful. He nuzzled in, running his tongue flat along your folds and breathing in the sweet scent that was just so you. The sounds you made were music to his ears, the taste on his tongue making him whimper into your folds in pure bliss. You tasted like candy, sweet and addictive - every little noise you made like a sugar rush through his veins.

You whined at the attack to your private area, mouth falling wide open with a sharp gasp as you feel his lips wrap around your clit and suckle as if it was your chest. You bucked your hips into the feeling, feeling his tongue flatten against your bundle of nerves in his mouth. If that wasn't enough, the sudden gentle intrusion of a finger disappearing in your slick folds forced a soft cry out of you. It was so much. The way he suckled your clit, his nose pressed into the meaty flesh and coarse hair just above it while a finger pumped in and out of your walls. You felt yourself quickly unraveling, hands flailing around to find a support. One squeezed the bed sheets as the other tangled itself in his hair. "Oh fuck.. Joel.. i'm- hah- oh my god.. I'm so close." You panted, thinking it'd get him to pull away. Other lovers had pulled away when you gave the warning to chase their own release too, but he nuzzled deeper into your warmth and worked another finger inside. The moment they curled, you were done for. With a sobbed moan, you came and came hard from his ministrations.

Joel carefully pulled back from your clit, pulling his fingers out. He brought them to his lips, moaning at the taste of you as it hit his tongue all over again while sucking his fingers clean. He leaned back in, running his tongue through your folds to clean you up. Not leaving a single drop behind. "Just like that.. you did s'good for me, baby.." he whispered into your folds as if he was talking to them, his eyes watching as your hole clenched and unclenched around air. He could feel his own arousal twitch in his pants, a wet spot formed where the tip laid. Joel pushed himself off his knees, grunting in discomfort but not letting it discourage him. He gently laid you back and spread your legs, letting his fingertips run down your inner thigh.

"You're so beautiful."

The voice was soft, vulnerable as he looked at you from above. You had glossy eyes from pleasure, face red and tongue glistening from the saliva that formed in your ecstasy. He felt happy to be the reason you were feeling so good. His hands were bringing you pleasure, not pain.

He unzipped his pants and pulled out his member, gently placing the length on top of your folds. He looked at you, before speaking softly. "I'm gonna put it in, okay baby?" He said softly, waiting for your trembling nod after you gulped in mental preparation. He rubbed his tip through your folds, before sinking inside and letting your love overwhelm him. He sighed and trembled as he felt your tight walls around him, taking a moment to just stop and appreciate it. He slowly inched his way inside, folding on top of you once he bottomed out. He whimpered in your ear as his hands greedily but softly explored your body. "Oh my god.. s'perfect.. you feel perfect. You're so warm, so tight." He panted in your ear. Tears pricked the corners of your eyes, adjusting to the stretch of your.. friend? Lovers?? Joel's. Joel's cock. Nothing had been set in stone, but god you hoped this wasn't just a one off thing. It felt so close, so intimate.. having him deep inside. It felt like more than just sex.

After a moment, he began thrusting — it was slow, loving, deliberate. He rested one of his needy hands on the plush of your ass, the other on your chest just above your heart. Ba-dump. Ba-dump. It meant everything to him. You were alive and well, this was real. He melted at the fact that you chose him. You chose a broken man when you could've had someone so much better, and it made his dick twitch inside of you. "I love you.. I love you s'much. You're- fuck.. you're amazing. You're perfect, lil' lamb." He panted, biting his lip to stifle his own whines as he listened to yours. The way you moaned and shook with every thrust, the slow pace overstimulating and beautifully torturous for you both. He slowly picked up his pace, thrusting faster but still just as gentle.

Your hands fought his clothes back, nails digging into his shirt as you moaned softly. Diamond tears ran down your cheeks, and it made Joel's heart melt. You leaned in, kissing and nipping at his earlobe. "Oh.. Joel.. you feel so good." You whispered, a shuddering mewl escaping from your throat as he rocked his hips into yours.

It continued like this, the glistening sweat of both of your bodies mixing into a perfect combination of you both. The room smelled of your union and love. With everything combined, it was all too much for Joel. He shuddered as he felt you cum around his cock, riding out your high before pulling out just in time. His pullout game wasn't the same as it used to be, but he still managed to pull out just in time for his release to dribble onto the sheets below you both. He wouldn't cum inside. Not without you asking, at least. He crumbled beside you, panting in utter exhaustion.

You panted, still recovering from everything you both just did. You have Joel a playful smirk despite your eyes still being blissed out. "Tuckered out, old man?" You teased.

He huffed, wrapping his arms around you and bringing the blankets up to carefully shield their bodies from the creeping cold of the night. "Shut up.." he grumbled fondly, kissing your forehead.

He admired you until you fell asleep, his hands squeezing you closer. He would not harm you with his sullied hands. But he was willing to spill more blood on them for you.

A/N: this is my first smut in a LONG time, so please be nice!

[sultrycitron]

𝗰𝗹𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗿 𝖺𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗱𝗲𝘃𝗶𝗹 ෴ˋ ╸

⋆₊ ♱ Who am I?

My name is Zephyr, but you lovelies may call me whatever you'd like<3 I am 19 years old (06/30/06)

⋆₊ ♱ What is this account?

Well, this is an account for spicy fics and drabbles and head cannons<3

⋆₊ ♱ What fandoms do I write for?

Let's get a list out for this one

♡ The Last of Us

♡ Epic the Musical

♡ Fallout

♡ Stardew Valley

♡ Original Stories

More can be later added<3

⋆₊ ♱ Rules for Requesting

You have to be 18 or older to interact, no age in bio? You get blocked.

I will keep anonymous requests on as I understand many people feel embarrassed requesting publicly, but account visible requests will be top priority.

I am more than willing to explore kinks, but here is what I will not do

♡ pedophilia

♡ incest

♡ piss or shit

♡ vore

♡ child labor

♡ rape

♡ necrophilia

♡ beastiality

♡ acrotomophilia (sexualization of amputees)

♡ feet play

Some of these are just due to personal comfort, most of these are due to common sense.

I will write just about anything else, and you are free to request x reader or x character!

Remember guys, consent is sexy

Masterlist

🂡 ⊰ 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝘁𝘄𝗶𝗰𝗲 𝖺𝗌 𝗽𝗿𝗲𝘁𝘁𝘆 ♡