#Joel IS here but I hope to god no one complains about this as if it were shipping just because he's standing opposite of maid Jimmy | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

hellishjoel · 9 months

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off to the races

6.3k / dbf!joel x f!reader

Series Masterlist | Next Chapter

pt. 1 pt. 2 pt. 3 pt. 4

series summary: You and your parents rent a lakeside cabin, Joel and Sarah Miller are your neighbors. You’re all grown up, and you’ll do anything to prove to Joel you’re a woman now.

warnings/information: MA 18+ (minors DNI), NO OUTBREAK, neighbor!joel, age gap (reader is in their early 20’s while Joel is in his 40’s), alcohol consumption, slight daddy issues lol, cursing, use of pet names, dominant!joel, maybe a lil brat tamer!joel, oral sex (m receiving), a lil praise kink, a lil degradation kink, facial, etc. you know ;)

A/N: needed to get cool slutty daddy out of my system. He’s just a Lana coded man!! I plan on turning this into a series, I hope it get's some love! let me know what you think by sending me an ask!

Your desperate eyes met his, trying to gauge what he thought. You hated how you looked like you wanted him so bad. He was your neighbor, your friend’s dad, but you wanted him to be something for you too. “I don’t know what the hell you think you’re doin-” His words made your chest go tight and your eyes filled with pure horror. What have you done?! “But you need to be the one to walk away, because I don’t think I can.”

Summers in Danbury were what you looked forward to all year long when you were younger. You would love the long drive to the lakeside cabin, swimming in the dazzling blue water all day, and catching fireflies at night before ending it with roasting s'mores over the campfire.

Now, all Danbury reminded you of were your parents stripping your feeling of independence as soon as you stepped in their embrace and the lack of cell service.

It wasn’t all that bad, though. Who were you to complain about an all-expense paid vacation on the water? Your parents were fine, you just graduated from university, everything was just.. good. It almost made you a little bored, thinking about the impending summer.

The warm sun’s kiss on your skin was a welcomed greeting after spending the past 9 months away at school out of state, your eyes twinkling below your sunglasses as you stepped out of the car. It was good to be back in Texas.

“Look, there she is!” Your dad cooed as he was eager to point out the sign that sat beside the entrance of the cabin that read ‘Life is Better at the Cabin’. Cheesy. It wasn’t your choice of decor since it was just a rental property, but still. You also despised the ‘The Secret Ingredient is Always Love’ sign in the kitchen.

You plopped your bags down at the end of your bed, the one just down the hall from your parents, quick to plug in your phone charger though it made little difference with your lack of a strong signal.

You turned your head to the window, seeing an old, beaten pickup truck turn onto gravel, a small smile peaking on your lips.

“Hey, look who it is!” Your dad cheered eagerly from the living room, appearing to also be gazing out the window at the sight coming down the road and pulling into the house next to yours.

The truck in question belonged to Joel Miller and his daughter, Sarah. Sarah had been your close friend each and every summer since you were little. You two were attached at the hip once your family started vacationing here, despite her being a fair five years younger. You two got along nonetheless.

You stepped outside to greet them, as your mother and father were already out doing, your face lighting up as Sarah made a b-line to your embrace. “Oh my god! Look at you!” She praised, her eyes lighting up at your appearance.

You two didn’t get the chance to spend the past few summers together due to business with school or internships on your part, so her surprise in seeing you a few years grown up was warranted.

“Look at me? Look at you!” You said through punched lungs as she hugged you so tight you were losing your breath.

If you thought Sarah’s tight hug was bad, you weren’t prepared to see what was waiting on the other side of the pickup truck.

Your lips parted at the sight of Joel Miller. He was sort of… handsome. Was that wrong to think that? I mean, he was so much older than you, someone’s dad, Sarah’s dad. You tried not to let your eyes linger for too long but his voice pitched into the conversation and you had been caught.

“Hey, Skids.” Ugh. That dreaded nickname you had yet to wear off. “Haven’t seen you these past few summers. Happy to be done with school?” Joel’s southern drawl was a shock to your system after being up in the Midwest for school.

He was tall and rugged, so unkempt. His hair was tousled everywhere and his beard was growing with salt and pepper stippling through the landscape of his jawline. He looked hot, the faint glisten and stain of sweat marking the collar of his shirt and at the sides of his biceps.

You blinked a few times before a graceful smile fluttered on your lips.

“Hi, Mr. Miller.” You gently cooed. What? If he could call you by that horrid nickname he had given you when you were barely ten, you could call him by his surname. Your eyes caught his own shift, his jaw twitching at his name being called like that. It was just his name after all, right?

“Joel.” He corrected with a raised eyebrow, your eyes finally dragging themselves away from his handsome character as they turned to your parents, who were obsessing over Sarah. She was about to go into her senior year of high school, so of course, they had all of the basic questions to ask her. Are you taking any advanced classes? Are you still on the swim team? Do you know where you want to go to college?

You tried to look interested, but you could still feel Joel’s gravitating stare in your direction.

You were just imagining things, right? He was looking one foot over, to Sarah and your family. Except he wasn’t. You know because you snuck a casual glance over to him, and he was still on you. His gaze alone made a shiver travel up your spine.

While Sarah and your parents were nestled in their own world of conversation, you take a few subtle steps away and join him by his truck. It still felt warm, the engine relaxing after a good drive in the Texas heat.

“You need a new truck. She looks like she’s on her deathbed.” You point out, the one corner of his mouth tugging up as he kept his eye on Sarah and your folks with his arms crossed in front of his broad chest.

“She’s just fine.” He retorts nonchalantly. You hated that about him. You could never figure out what he was thinking, unpredictable but not exactly chaotic.

“She?” You asked with raised eyebrows. “I always knew you had a special woman in your life. Didn’t know she was so old, though.” You egged him on, your favorite pastime in the summers; Grinding the gears of an old man who had a bigger attitude than you most days.

“You still have quite the mouth on you. Glad to see that hasn’t changed.” Joel said sarcastically as he pushed himself off the front of the truck with his hip, his head nodding off to the side in a silent way of telling you to follow him. You watched as he pulled down the tailgate, rust screeching until it stopped with a generous thump.

“Supposed to be Sarah helping me with this, but since she’s busy being Miss Danbury, you can help me.” He said as he pointed to some firewood and other bigger pieces of wood in varying sizes.

“What do you plan on doing with all this wood anyway? I think the Amazon is looking for it.” You huffed but climbed up into the back of the truck bed without him asking you to. His protective hand instinctively guided your hip for stability, and you felt a rush of air pump through your lungs. “Thanks.” You murmur before you start reaching for stacks you could handle.

“Sarah wanted to throw y'all a bonfire with it being your first day back for the summer or what have you.” Before you could stop yourself, you were already cooing at him as you jumped down from the tailgate, watching as Joel gave a tight face of annoyance. Don’t do that, you’re gonna get yourself hurt.

It took Joel all of two seconds to grab two of the larger cut pieces, throwing each of them onto his shoulders. You couldn’t help but stare at his biceps that cradled the wood, the tan skin and muscles popping out of the dark green t-shirt he wore. Focus, focus, focus, focus, focusfocusfocus.

“And the bigger pieces? What are those for?” You asked out of sheer curiosity now once he threw them down in the back of his lawn, the sight of your parents and Sarah long gone.

He shrugged and shook his head, his hands on his hips as a layer of sweat started to build up around his hairline. “Just carvin’ projects. The rest can be used for scrap lumber around the lake properties.” His head finally turned to look at you, his eyes raking you up and down for a moment before nodding to your lake house rental. “Doin’ property maintenance over the summer on the houses ‘round here.”

“So if we need maintenance, we call you now?” You asked with a dubious face, to which he nodded.

This man never stopped. It made sense, you supposed. You reflected on the summers in the past, knowing Joel to manage his own contracting business and picking up odd jobs around town. You remember one summer, he redid the flooring of an old bakery in town and then built custom shelves for the loaves of bread and bagels. Another summer, he repaved people’s driveways with blacktop. He was a laborer, a blue-collar man through and through.

“That’s right, Skids.” The nickname made you scowl at him again, but you wouldn’t mind seeing Joel Miller laid under your kitchen sink or repairing the window in your bedroom so it could finally let in some fresh air. Frankly, you just wouldn’t mind seeing Joel Miller.

After Joel reclaimed his daughter from your parents with a snarky yet subtle, Thanks for all your help, kiddo to Sarah, he said goodbye to you and your family as everyone parted ways back to their own homes.

You were tired from the drive, but you didn’t lack attendance to the bonfire Sarah was putting together specifically for you in a welcome back to Danbury! sort of celebration. She invited the other nearby neighbors, so by the time you finally joined, it was packed with people sitting around the fire. People who lived on the lake loved a good party, anything with beer to keep them occupied.

It was a lot of talking and bottles clinking, marshmallows on sticks, and a crackling fire blazing at the center of everyone. You weren’t one for beer but Sarah insisted on feeding you bottle after bottle.

She liked sharing secrets with you, away from her dad. She considered you someone she could tell anything to. And you felt the same way. So not more than half an hour later, you two were giggling and sitting on the tailgate of Joel’s old pickup truck when you saw him start to saunter over. You saw him coming first, snatching Sarah’s bottle out of her hand and taking a sharp inhale as you hid away your own. Sarah’s secret, right?

“Dad,” she playfully whined when he came over to bust their little party.

He was silent for a moment before he looked at the dwindling flames. “Fire’s gettin’ low.” He pointed out, looking between the two of you.

His face was lit up in a mix of gold hue from the fire and silver from the moon. His face had this intensity, a bucked-out jawline, cheekbone, and nose. It was like he was carved from stone.

Sarah was silent, not wanting to leave behind her friends at the bonfire to shuffle over more wood. You softly nodded as you took a swig of her beer bottle in your hand before setting it down once you hopped off the truck bed.

“I can help.” You offered. Joel looked down at you hesitantly, sneaking a glance to where your parents sat around the growing circle of people.

“Yeah.. yeah, ‘lright.” Joel said as the two of you walked off to the dividing line on his property, the wood you had dropped carelessly earlier in the day now in a neat stack. You certainly weren’t drunk, but slamming Sarah’s beer along with the other ones she ushered you before was now messing with your head, the edges of your vision a little fuzzy, especially in the dark since the glow of the bonfire was at such a distance.

Before you knew it, you were stacking the wood into your arms, too much maybe. Joel called out your name in a warning tone.

“No, I got it! See?” You tried to reason with a cocky smile as he shook his head.

“You don’t like to listen.” He gruffly said as he started picking up the smaller pieces as they fell out of your arms.

You couldn’t help the playful scoff that left your lips, still insistent on stacking more in your arms, going as far as tucking some in your elbows but all they did was drop at your feet once you went to reach for more.

“Stop bein’ so damn difficult.” He piped up again as he snagged your wrist, halting your movements.

“Yeah? I thought you liked difficult women.” Your words were fast like a whip, your eyes challenging his own as the two of you shared unnecessarily long eye contact.

“Drop-- the wood. Stop bein’ a-”

“A what?” You challenged. The distance between you two suddenly felt like it was becoming air-tight, his eyes narrowing on yours as his features hardened. He didn’t look mad, lord knows you’d never want to actually make Joel Miller mad. He just looked-- provoked.

“A brat.” He finally bit, your teeth clenching at the name. The shock of it all made your arms finally burst open like a dam breaching with water, all of them falling to your feet as you let out an involuntary squeal. God, you did not want him to hear that noise leave you like that.

You finally tugged away your wrist from his hand, your eyes leaving his daggered gaze to examine your palm that had a decent size splinter plunged into the center of it.

“Shit,” You swore, feeling whatever heat you had left in your body pooling to your stringing finger.

You heard Joel let out a debated sigh before he took you by your wrist, much more gentle this time, and tried to bring it up closer to his eyes to examine it.

“Can’t see for shit out here.” He grumbled. You couldn’t see it either but you could feel right where it spread searing pain through the rest of your hand.

“I got some tweezers in my workshop, I’ll get it out.” Joel offered as he started walking a few paces but you let out an involuntary whimper at the sound of him taking it out.

“You don’t want that to get infected, do you?” He asked with a true voice of reason, to which you let out a sigh of agreement and followed him to his workshop.

You had only been inside Joel’s workshop a handful of times. You remember once your dad dragged you over so he could talk to Joel about his truck, and you had to wait there and wait there until they finished gabbing. Another time was when you explored it on your own, your eyes fascinated by the little world he surrounded himself in. It wasn’t all wood like you’d expect it to be. He had old guns mounted on the wall, ladders hung up in the rafters, and dusty old fishing plaques that made you disgusted at the sight. It housed his tools, the same ones he had been using for years. He knew where they were by heart, not even looking when he reached for something. Everything had its place, down to the tweezers he immediately found in an old little toolbox.

“Here,” he said as he pointed to an old metal stool as tall as your waist. You sat down on the cold metal, a little hiss of discomfort leaving you as he sighed. “Always somethin’.” Joel shook his head and offered you a spare dusty blanket, shaking your head.

“Just-- fix my hand. Please.” You said as you displayed your palm to him, now seeing it in the light for the first time. Okay.. it didn’t actually look as bad as it felt. Joel actually smiled as he looked at the tiny sliver shoved into the skin.

“..Might have to amputate it.” He said with a half-serious tone, as joking as Joel could sound. But there was a little glint in his eye, one of satisfaction from his own joke.

“Joel Miller has a sense of humor? I’m surprised. And pleasantly delighted.” You teased as he huffed and shook his head, the smile that graced his lips already came and gone. Sort of. He just looked down at your hand so you couldn’t directly see it anymore.

It took you until now to see that he changed out of his dark green shirt from this afternoon and into an old 80’s rock band shirt with a worn dark navy flannel over it. He must have showered after laboring in the Texas heat. The thought made your stomach churn in excitement.

You shivered at how cold you felt all of a sudden, no longer by the warm fire and on this damn metal stool. You shifted uncomfortably on it, cursing yourself for wearing jean shorts.

Joel let out an exasperated sigh as he stood up straighter and shoved off his flannel, your eyes softening at the sight.

“You want me to take tweezers to your hand but you keep... shiftin’ around. Stand up.” He directed, and this time you didn’t debate with him. You hopped off the metal stool and he laid down the flannel. It was a nice gesture and you were grateful. You hoped the goosebumps were from the temperature, not how close he was.

Joel pulled up another metal stool so he could steady himself, reeling himself in as close as he could and holding your palm open in his as his eyes squinted a little bit.

You felt frozen in place, your lips parting as you slowly looked down to one of his knees that parted between your own legs. Fuck. You weren’t sure if it was the little buzz of beer still in your system but something drove you to have enough courage to gently lay your hand just above his kneecap.

His eyes flicked up to yours, trying to read what was behind your thought process right now. He looked so confident, you feared you looked all shifty.

You could feel the worn denim of his jeans under your palm but underneath, he was warm. He was as hot as a furnace as your body craved it.

“The sliver.” You pointed back out, your voice smaller since you two were in such close proximity. You watched his chest heave as he took a deep breath, grumbling something under his breath before he focused back to his initial task.

You pursed your lips as you both watched and felt the tweezers line up to the red and irritated skin, his movements precise and patient until you watched him clench the tool closed.

You let out an involuntary breath of both relief and anticipation, just wanting it out already.

“Hold on, just gotta make sure I..” Joel’s voice trailed off as he slowly pulled the tiny sliver from your palm, an uncomfortable whine leaving the back of your throat.

His thigh twitched under your palm at the sound, not even realizing your hand had sunk higher up his jean-clad thigh.

“Got it.” He finally said, swiping the tip of the tweezer on the table to display the nasty little piece of wood that had caused you all this grief. You let out a breath through your nostrils and nodded.

“Thank God, no amputation.” You joked, to which he awarded you a small smile.

“I’ll call the surgeon and tell ‘em to turn around. We’re good here.” Joel said as he gently released your wrist. You watched his features carefully, seeing his lips part as he glanced down to his leg that your hand still held for balance.

“What’er you doin’?” He finally asked, his voice dropping an octave at the question. Shit.

Don’t read this wrong, or this will be the most awkward interaction you and Joel have had to date. This is worse than when he saw you fall out of the inner tube while boating, worse than when some kid tripped you at the town barbeque, worse than when you fell off Sarah’s scooter so hard that he gave you the nickname Skids.

“Woah, Skids! Better slow down!” God, that was so many years ago. His chuckle still echoed in your ears.

Now you were older, you were a woman. You had long legs and glowing skin, and a smile that knocked guy’s out of the fuckin’ park! But he was older too, older than you, younger than your dad but god, not by much. You were so close to him, you could inhale the distant smell of the bonfire, the one he probably made instead of Sarah. He also smelled like an old spice deodorant and fucking cigarettes.

He was stingy, and greasy, and hot, and Joel.

Your years of anticipation thinking about him like this was over.

You bit down on your lower lip, your mind was foggy with the rushing in your heart, feeling your ears pound and your palm still seared. He was a head taller than you while you sat together, and before you could stop yourself, you were leaning in and pressing a soft kiss to his pulse.

Your lips lingered around his neck for a moment, the sensitive skin of your mouth feeling beard stubble and tasting distant cologne. Your breath fanned over the skin, clammy but sweet with his sweat.

He didn’t stop you, his eyes merely watching you carefully.

“What’er you doin’?” He asked again, but this time, his words sounded more-- goading. Do it, I know you won’t. You’re chicken shit. If you know what you want, do it.

Your heart raced as you nearly leaped off the stool, closing the distance between you two as you stood between his legs. Your hand moved higher on his thigh, so close that you were nearly touching the leather of his belt. Your mouth returned to the sweet spot of his pulse while your injured hand reached up to the opposite side of his neck to gently hold him there.

“Joel,” you whispered his name breathlessly, asking him for more, feeling his head drop down beside yours. You feared you embarrassed yourself, he wasn’t reciprocating, he wasn’t--

The thoughts brewing in your head bubbled down to a boil as his firm arm wrapped itself low around your waist, keeping you to his front as he pulled down to look at you with a stern look on his face.. You were so fucked.

“I don’t know what the hell you think you’re doin-”

His words made your chest go tight and your eyes filled with pure horror. What have you done?!

“But you need to be the one to walk away, because I don’t think I can.”

His words surprised you. He didn’t think he could walk away from you right now? Holy shit.

Your heart was pumping so hard under his watchful gaze, seeing his eyes look from yours to your parted lips. But he didn’t kiss you, you don’t think you would let him. It felt too intimate. You just didn’t want another boring summer in Danbury and you were determined to have a fling.

Who knew it would be with Joel Miller. But you wanted him.

Your brave hands took him by the chest of his shirt, your mouth moving to his jawline as you balanced the tightrope of kissing and nibbling on the skin before your hands moved south to find his belt buckle.

His legs naturally parted for you, catching a brief smirk on his lips as you took control of the situation.

“Dirty girl goin’ right for my fuckin’ cock.” He whispered against the shell of your ear, a desperate nod leaving you while your cheek involuntarily rubbed against the stubble of his beard. You didn’t know he talked like that.

You initiated more space for yourself, nudging the inside of his thighs with your own legs as you had his back up against his drafting table with you no longer on his side but standing in front of him.

Your quick fingers desperately undid his belt, feeling the old leather under your fingers. You didn’t have the balls to look at him and frankly, you were afraid you would lose your nerve if you did.

His hands were encouraging for your nervous system, firm palms planted into your hips and even going as far as to squeeze the flesh that sat under your jean shorts. His body warmed you up, his eyes admiring you as you plucked open the button on his jeans.

You pushed your tongue against your cheek in concentration, all of a sudden desperate at the thought of having him in your mouth. You dragged down the zipper, the relaxed denim exposing the black briefs he wore underneath that hugged his tan hips.

You slowly sunk to your knees before him, as if you were worshiping a God. Maybe you were, it was Joel Miller, after all.

“This what you were learnin’ off at school?” Joel belittled, your head doing a few quick nods as a flush stained your cheeks. God. Something about Joel calling you a slut had you in a tailspin. You couldn’t wait anymore.

Your fingers delicately felt over the impressive growth that his briefs held down, biting down on your bottom lip as you let your pointer finger make the outline of his girth.

He let out an audible grunt at the action, his jaw jutted out, and his eyes filled with lust. “Lemme see that pretty mouth.” He practically purred, your chest rising and falling in anticipation as you slowly opened your mouth for him. You felt the intrusion of his thumb, a guttural moan leaving your throat as your big eyes stayed on his. He pinched at the inside of your cheek for a moment, your eyes twinging closed and opening back up with twinkling tears on the brim of flowing.

“Good girl, keep that mouth open for me.” He encouraged as he pushed two fingers past your lips, testing you. And you were more than willing to accept his little challenge. His fingers pushed on the back of your tongue, feeling your lips graze all the way to his knuckle as you worked on breathing through the feeling of his fingers shoved down your throat.

You were determined for him not to get the best of you, to prove how you had some experience under your belt. Your tongue willingly swirled around his digits, humming softly as you suckled. Now it was his turn to look like he was ready to fold. You felt him swell in your hand, the hand still stroking over his erection in his briefs.

He ripped back his fingers, leaving them with a pop to your lips. Holy shit. You took a few deep breaths and swallowed, blinking back the tears that his fingers provoked from going so far down.

“Damn, baby, look so pretty down on your knees for me. Don’t make me wait ‘ny longer.” Joel’s breaths were heavy, his southern drawl exaggerated in his lust-filled state.

A proud smirk laced on your lips, his eyes on you as he watched you pry down the material of his briefs, watching as he lightly lifted his hips off the stool and using the drafting table behind him as leverage to let his jeans and boxers rest comfortably around the top of his thighs. What you had been craving slapped eagerly into the palm of your uninjured hand, an unexpected little moan leaving you.

You studied his cock with anticipation, the glowing pinkish-red tip glistening with pre-cum from all the anticipation. He was generous in size, he would be the biggest you had ever taken. He was just… grown. You let out a satisfied little mmm, smirking up at him as your fist wrapped delicately around the base as you pumped over just the bottom half of him.

Your hand came up to push some hair behind your ear but Joel was quick to handle that for you, stroking the stray pieces back behind your ear and then planting his palm right on the top side of your head. He tried to guide you closer but you just continued to smirk at him, a desperate grunt leaving the back of his throat.

“Don’t play with me, kitten.” The nickname had you fawning, much better than the other nickname he had given you in the past. Maybe this new one would replace the old, the girl he dismissed before now a woman whose attention he craved.

You guided his tip to gently tap at your flattened tongue, using his base to guide him until you generously wrapped your mouth around his leaking head. He let out a satisfied hiss which made you smirk, knowing you were the one making him dance on the line between pain and pleasure.

You let out an involuntary mewl as the fist he had made in the back of your hair forced you further down his rigid member, feeling wet tears threatening to spill over your waterline as his tip nudged against the back of your throat. He said not to play with him and you disobeyed.

Your palms flattened to the front of his thighs as you pushed yourself off of him, gasping for air as you swallowed the mixture of your spit and his leakage that clogged your throat.

“So fuckin’ pretty chokin’ on me like that, such a pretty face.” He sneered, referring to your teary eyes. But the compliment made you blush and the choking and sobbing was all of a sudden worth it for the praise.

After that, you craved to take all of him just like he wanted. Your head worked in subtle bobs, taking inch by inch of him at a time. Sometimes his hand in your hair guided you, allowing you to take him with confidence as he let out disgusting groans and low moans.

Your gluck, gluck, glucks filled the shed, hot pants leaving your mouth around him but not willing to let your head up. Trails of your saliva attached themselves from his balls to your lips, the sight being a trophy for your hard earned deep throating. He was already so close, you couldn’t bear not to taste the prize you had worked so hard for.

All of a sudden, Joel stood up from his seat at the drafting table and you couldn’t help but show a look of disappointment. You thought he was done, going to leave you like a mess on the floor with bruises on your knees from the cold concrete and your slobbery mouth feeling his loss.

Your wet eyelashes fluttered as he returned to fist the hair at the top of your head and angled your face upward, watching as his other hand yanked on his member. The sight made your jaw drop.

“Where do you want me to finish?” His words were pained, stretched thin as he tried to hold out for an answer from you. But you wanted him to finish, you wanted to watch his face contort from the wake of his orgasm that you helped create.

“Mmm,” you hummed out as you purposefully prolonged his finish, watching as his chest puffed and his skin grew rosy from the heat flooding his body. Your cockiness was punished by a tighter grip in your hair, yanking your head closer to his shaft to force a real answer out of you. Your scalp stung but only a smile was on your face.

“You wanna cum on my face, Mr. Miller?” You asked in the most innocent tone you could muster, your mouth parting at the sight of him. He looked heavenly. The glow from his shed lights made him appear as if he had an angelic glow. But you knew he was hellish, nothing close to an angel.

Joel let out a scoffy little grunt at your question, a wicked smile gracing his lips as his hooded eyes slowly fell completely closed as the shock of his orgasm coursed through his body.

You eagerly watched and you hated how hungry you knew you looked right now. You licked your lips, eager for his taste, eager to make the Joel Miller cum. You were desperate.

His cock began twitching in his hand, watching as he methodically yanked out his own orgasm. His eyes lazily glanced between his shaft and to your large eyes, slowly smirking at the sight of you holding out for him.

“Let me see that tongue, darlin’.” His words were breathy, just on the edge of no return. You obeyed, dropping your jaw and flashing him your tongue as you fluttered your eyelashes. At the sight alone, he finished himself off with eager grunts and short moans, you swore one of them was your name.

His hot cum landed on your face, your eyes closing in satisfaction with a cocky smile. Most landed on your tongue, a few piping hot white strands splattered like paint on your cheeks and nose. All the air in your lungs left you as he tapped his pulsing tip eagerly against your tongue, watching with his jaw slack as he let the rest pool onto your tongue and down your throat.

You swallowed knowing he was watching, his hand in your hair relaxing. He tasted better than you expected, a new craving.

Instead of fisting your strands, he started stroking them away from your messy face, praising you as he tucked himself back into his pants.

Both no longer in the hot fantasy you swore you imagined once, you tried to collect yourselves. You shakily stood up from the ground, your knees cold from the concrete. You wipe off any dust or dirt they may have collected, sneaking glances at Joel as he fastened his belt around his waist once more and popping the button of his jeans back into place.

You glanced around for a tissue, your back to him as you cleaned up your face. Oh my god, you were wiping Joel Miller’s cum off your fucking face. As the two of you pieced yourselves back together, he reached for his discarded flannel that he had given you still resting on the metal chair you previously abandoned before settling between his legs.

“Said you were cold. Take it.” He said as he fisted some of the material and looked at you expectantly. You sighed before gently taking the material and wrapping yourself in its warmth.

As he placed a bandaid on your palm to cover your futile wound, you admired the flannel in all of its unknown beauty.

It was one of his older ones, you sort of felt bad because you could only assume it was one of his favorites. It adorned a few minor holes and rips, some of which were badly stitched back together in an attempt to salvage it for another few years. Despite its appearance, you melted into it because it smelled like him. It smelled smoky like his cigarettes or maybe that was just the residual smoke from the bonfire. As you walked outside, you could smell it clearer.

Sandalwood with a hint of cinnamon, you wondered what cologne he used.

Your head was lost in thought as you began to wander back towards the bonfire, a sharp clearing of his throat bringing you back to your senses. You whipped around, seeing as he pointed to the stray wood you had dropped from earlier.

“Oh-” you said bashfully as you returned to the pile with him, both of you knelt down picking up stray pieces. Once you started piling the wood in your arms again, he let out a short chuckle from deep inside him as he held your wrist from stacking more.

“That’s enough for now, just go.” You liked seeing his face lit up like that, knowing you were the cause of it being even better.

“Okay, Mr. Miller.” You cooed quietly, his face hardening at the name of adoration you had given him.

“Okay, Skids. I’ll be seein’ you.” He said with a tight nod of his head, his eyes directing you back to the fire. You set down the firewood by the rocks surrounding it as a barrier, clearing your throat as you returned to the tailgate. You could still taste his cum on your tongue.

No one seemed to notice your trip taking unexpectedly longer than necessary. Your parents were both swaying their heads and laughing, empty bottles by the legs of their folding lawn chairs to explain their obvious lack of awareness.

Sarah had joined up with other friends in your absence, but you didn’t mind.

You finally had a moment to reflect on what had just taken place in Joel’s shed. You let your vacation house neighbor cum in your mouth. Your older, stoic, stubborn ass of a neighbor.

As if on cue, Joel returned to the side of his truck with his body leaning against the tailgate. His jean-clad hip lightly grazed your thigh, glancing over to see him offering you a beer.

“Since you’re all grown up now.” He said with a little spark behind his eyes. You nodded and took the opened beer with a growing smile.

“Cheers.” He offered as he held out his bottle to clink with yours.

“Cheers to another summer in Danbury.” You tell him.

He cocked his eyebrow and glanced over to you one more time before he focused his eyes on the growing fire.

“This one ain’t quite like the rest.” It almost sounded like a promise from him. You hoped it was. Because you were wearing his flannel and you were on his knees for him tonight, you wondered what experience of Joel could offer you this summer.

---

read part 2 - dark paradise!

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atomicladytimetravel · 4 months

Text

Employees Only

Summary: No outbreak AU. Joel Miller owns Miller Contracting and you are his assistant. When Joel gets the bid from a huge client, he celebrates by doing what any sane man would do…banging the assistant.

Warnings: Porn with very little plot. Drug use (marijuana), Boss/Employee relations, Smut/Explicit. Contains sex under the influence of marijuana, nipple play/stimulation, oral (f and m receiving) light gagging, fingering, Joel’s a little cocky about his dick (pun intended). Joel is a simp for you. No physical description of reader, other than female.

18+ only - MDNI

Friday. Fucking finally. Not only is it the end of your work week, but it’s also the end of you spending longer evenings than usual helping your boss put together a bid for one of the biggest clients he could ever hope to acquire. You can’t do any real complaining though - Joel made sure you were well compensated for your extra time and (let’s just face it) he sure is fun to look at. Not to mention the, you know, huge fucking crush you’ve had on the man for…well, for probably about as long as you’ve worked for him. Suffice to say, you’d do juuuuust about anything Joel asked you to do.

You’re making your way to your favorite hole-in-the-wall Chinese restaurant, the air conditioning in your car blasting to combat the sweltering Texas heat. You have to pass the small office building that houses Miller Contracting on your way to get to the Chinese place and, even though it’s damn near ten o’clock, Joel’s old pickup truck still sits in its usual parking space. Curious, you pull out your phone and select his name from your recent call log. He answers on the first ring.

“Now why are you callin’ me this late darlin’?” he drawls. His speech is raspy and a little slow; he sounds so fucking sexy.

“Oh no reason really, just wondering why I see your truck parked at the office,” you respond. He chuckles a little.

“You stalkin’ me or something?”

You smile and roll your eyes, even though he can’t see you.

“In your dreams, Miller,” you retort playfully. “I’m on my way to get some food and I just so happened to pass by.”

“Well, I was gonna wait until Monday and tell you in person, but…Avalon Premier Hotels accepted our bid.”

You can hear the grin in his voice and you hear yourself gasp.

“Joel, oh my god! That’s incredible news!” you squeal excitedly. On the other end of the call, Joel thinks to himself that he would very much like to hear those first four words again in a much different context.

Unbeknownst to you, Joel has been smitten since you stepped foot in his office for the first time. He internally cursed his HR department that day for hiring the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. But they had done just as he’d asked and hired the best damn person for the job. Joel has told you on more than one occasion that he has no idea how he made it without you.

“I’m just over here celebrating a little. The sound system Tommy insisted we put in the employee lounge outdoes mine by a long shot and I wanted to hear some music,” he explains further. “You should come join me. You know I couldn’t have done this without you.”

You look down at your outfit - a tank top, no bra and a pair of what are quite possibly the shortest shorts you own - and contemplate the offer. You remember you’re off the clock and think, “the hell with it, he can’t dress code me now.”

“Sure,” you accept. “You want some Chinese food?”

——————

When you open the front door to the office, you’re immediately hit by the pungent aroma of marijuana. Ah, now his slow, raspy speech makes sense. When you enter the employee lounge, you find Joel manspread on the couch, a fat blunt dangling from his lips. He’s changed out of the button up you had drooled over all day and into a Miller Contracting t-shirt that hugged his delicious biceps. Nirvana is playing loudly over the sound system and he doesn’t realize you’re there until you plop the food down on the coffee table. His eyes rake over your body unashamedly and you find yourself blushing under his gaze. He reaches for the remote and turns the music down.

“God damn sugar, I didn’t realize I’d be gettin’ dinner and a show.”

“It’s like 103 degrees right now Joel. Besides, I’m off the clock,” you remind him, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Hey, ain’t sayin’ it’s a bad thing,” he winks. You eye him suspiciously, but he just smiles innocently. He pats the couch cushion next to him and when you sit down, he holds the blunt to your lips. “You deserve t’relax a little, too.”

You take the blunt between your lips and inhale the smoke, holding it for a few seconds before exhaling through your nose. You’re not exactly a stranger to pot, but it has been a while since you’ve smoked any. It doesn’t take long at all for the foggy feeling to take over, your body feeling weightless. The munchies kick in soon after, and you and Joel practically inhale the Chinese food. As you eat, another blunt is passed back and forth and you’re soon the highest you can ever remember being.

Joel cleans up the remnants of your dinner and you sink into the couch cushions, your fuzzy brain content to just stare at nothing. When he returns, he sits so close to you that your thighs touch. He leans back and throws his arm around the cushion behind you. You’re close enough to smell his cologne and that plus the fact that he’s so close makes you want him, bad.

“This may have been a bad idea. Weed makes me so horny,” you say. You had wholeheartedly intended for that to be a thought and not something you said aloud to your boss. You’re mortified when you realize that the words actually came out of your mouth. Before you can even attempt to apologize, though, Joel responds.

“Oh yeah? You want some help with that?” He looks down at you expectantly and you stare back at him blankly for a moment before answering.

“I…y-yeah, yes,” you stammer. The next thing you know, you’re being pulled onto his lap; the fabric of your shorts is thin and you can feel just how hard he already is beneath the denim of his jeans. He kisses you with the passion of someone who’s been starved of affection. He holds you tightly close to his body, as if he’s afraid you’ll disappear if he doesn’t.

“Please tell me this is real,” he murmurs into the kiss.

“It’s real,” you giggle, resting your forehead against his.

“You are so pretty. Absolutely fuckin’ gorgeous,” he says softly. You kiss again, open mouthed and tongues swirling together. You grind your hips onto him, trying to relieve the aching between your thighs. He puts his hands on your hips to stop them.

“Ain’t gotta do all that now. I’ll take care of ya soon, understand?” he says sternly. You let out a tiny, pathetic whimper but nod in agreement. He shakes his head and uses his pointer finger to tap your lips.

“Use your words.”

“Yes, I understand,” you tell him.

“Yes what?” he asks, eyebrows raised expectantly.

“Yes sir.”

“That’s a good girl. Fuck, I just knew you would be. You want to be my good girl, hm?”

The whole time he’s been talking, his hands have been roaming farther and farther under your tank top. His fingertips brushing against your skin makes a shiver run down your spine.

“Yes sir,” you reply in a voice barely above a whisper.

He’s cupping your breasts now, thumbs swiping repeatedly over your nipples. The urge to grind on him again is overwhelming, but you hold still. You whine softly when he removes his hands and he shushes you.

“Relax sweet thing. I just want to get this shirt off of ya is all.”

He pushes the shirt up your torso and you raise your arms to let him pull it over your head. He groans appreciatively at the sight of your breasts and pushes them together before burying his face between them.

“So fuckin’ perfect,” he mumbles against your skin. He puts his mouth all over your breasts, sucking and nibbling and making you want to rock your hips so badly you can hardly stand it. You gasp softly when he latches on to your nipple, sucking until the bud has hardened. When he switches to the other side, you can’t help but roll your hips, craving some sort of relief.

“Ah, ah,” he admonishes, his hands holding onto your hips firmly. “What did I say?”

“I’m sorry,” you pout. “I just need you to touch me so bad sir.”

“Oh, is that all?” he teases, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. He pinches both nipples between his fingers gently. “How’s this?”

“It feels good, but I need more sir.”

“Hmmm…no, I think I’ll see if I can make you cum like this first.”

No one has ever tried to make you orgasm this way, and you’re not even sure it’s possible. You tell him this, but he just shakes his head.

“Can I try? If it doesn’t work for you, we can move on, I promise.”

“Yes sir, you can try.”

He smiles softly and presses a gentle kiss to your lips.

“I’m going to squeeze a little harder, just let me know if you start feelin’ anything besides good.”

It feels amazing. Pleasure surges through you and you tip your head back, your hands gripping onto his shoulders to keep you steady. He alternates between pinching and rolling and you concentrate on the throbbing between your legs. He squeezes just a bit harder and it feels so good that a drawn out moan passes through your lips.

“Yeah sugar? How’s that feel?” he asks.

“Good. R-really good,” you respond breathlessly. “Maybe a little harder.”

“How’s this baby?” he asks as he pinches a little harder. There’s a little pain this time, but it’s a delicious kind of hurt.

“Oh!” you gasp, surprised to feel the stirrings of an orgasm. “Don’t stop please, it feels so good.”

“You’re doing so good baby,” he praises, leaning forward to press a kiss to your throat. He keeps the pressure and rolls your sensitive nipples between his fingers. Your eyes flutter and your orgasm is so close you can taste it.

“You’re close aren’tcha? What a good girl; go ahead and let it go baby.”

With his encouragement, an orgasm washes over you and you hear yourself shouting his name. With one hand still tweaking a nipple, he wraps an arm around your waist to keep you steady as you shake above him. When you come down, your eyes open to see Joel looking at you with a mix of awe and adoration.

“That was the most beautiful god damn thing I’ve ever seen,” he says before capturing your lips in a needy kiss. He sets you gently back on the couch and stands above you, squeezing the length of his cock through his jeans.

“God damn, I swear I stay hard for you,” he groans. “You know how many times I’ve shot my load thinkin’ ‘bout you?”

“Probably as many times as I’ve made myself cum thinking about you.”

“You mean we coulda been doin’ this all along?” he asks, still palming himself through his jeans. You lean back into the corner of the couch and press your middle finger to your clit over your shorts while you watch him; something about the action turns you on so much.

“You’re my boss Joel,” you point out.

“I also own this company doll. I can do whatever I want,” he reminds you. He pulls his shirt over his head and you finally get to see the body you’ve been fantasizing about for so long. His shoulders are broad and his arms are thick. His midsection is soft, but you can still see v-lines disappearing into his jeans. He undresses down to his boxer briefs and you watch, mesmerized, when he slowly pulls his belt through its loops. You’re not sure if you’ve ever been more turned on. He kneels in front of you and taps your hip, signaling for you to lift them.

“Up,” he commands. You lift your hips and he hooks his fingers in the waistband of your shorts. He drags them down your legs and is pleasantly surprised to see your lack of panties.

“No bra, no panties? What a naughty girl,” he tuts.

“Told ya I was dressed for comfort.”

He doesn’t respond, just tosses the shorts aside and admires your naked form.

“I can’t get over how gorgeous you are,” he says, shaking his head. He showers your body with kisses, sucking occasionally on your most sensitive places. You’ll be covered in hickeys later, splotchy red and purple reminders of how Joel worships your body. He places his palms on the insides of your knees and spreads them, giving himself a view of your glistening pussy. He spreads your lips with his first two fingers to admire what he considers a work of art.

“Look how pretty,” he murmurs. Before you can utter a response, he leans in and licks you from opening to clit. He alternates between this and kitten licking your clit and you have to fight yourself to not start riding his face.

“Fuck, you got the sweetest little pussy darlin’,” he groans into your center. He hooks his arms behind your knees and begins to eat you out with fervor. He swirls patterns on your clit with his tongue, dipping it into your entrance every now and then. You’re enjoying it too much to notice that he spells “J O E L” on your clit with his tongue, silently claiming your pussy as his.

“Mmm, fuck Joel, it feels so good,” you whine. You feel two thick fingers slide into your entrance and you buck your hips at the sensation. He flattens his free hand over your belly and pins you to the couch cushions. He curls his fingers into your g-spot as his tongue continues to flick over your clit and your moans mix with the wet squelching sounds of your pussy.

“Joel, oh my god!” you shout, your head falling back onto the arm of the couch. And there they were, those four words he’d wished to hear just over an hour ago. He’s never heard anything so beautiful in his life. You hear him moan and you lift your head to watch him. His eyes are hooded and his free hand is in his boxers stroking his cock. It’s undoubtedly one of the hottest things you’ve ever witnessed.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum. Oh god I’m so close,” you moan. He sucks your clit once, twice and on the third time, you come apart for him. He can’t help the satisfied smile on his face as he watches you tremble, his name tumbling from your lips like a chant. When he pulls his fingers out, they’re shiny with your spend. He spreads them apart and a string of fluid connects them.

“Look at the mess you made for me baby,” he marvels. He brings his fingers to your lips and you open for him; you suck his fingers clean, never breaking eye contact. You hear him moan softly when you swirl your tongue around the digits. He stands and you can see how painfully hard he is through his boxer briefs. You can’t help but stare at the outline of his cock, wondering how he walks around with that thing between his legs. He sees you staring and smirks.

“You wanna see my cock baby?” he asks.

“Yes sir,” you nod, blushing a little at being caught staring. You watch in anticipation as he pulls his underwear down, cock springing free and practically smacking him in the stomach. Your eyes widen when you see his size. He’s thick and probably around eight or nine inches. He wraps a hand around it and strokes a few times.

“Think you can put it in your mouth for me? I wanna see those pretty lips around my cock,” he says, smoothing his other hand over your hair.

“Yes sir, wanna make you feel good,” you respond obediently, sitting up from your reclined position.

“Oh, what a good girl,” he praises. You wrap your lips around his tip and suck the precum seeping out.

“Oh fuuuuuck baby girl,” he rasps. You hollow out your cheeks and slowly inch him in your mouth. You put your hands on his hips as you bob your head back and forth. His hand flies to your hair when you pull all the way back to his tip before plunging him down your throat. You gag a little bit and pull back some, tears prickling at your eyes. You repeat the process until there are tears trickling down your cheeks.

“Shit baby, you give such good fuckin’ head,” he says through gritted teeth. “Look at ya, chokin’ on my cock.”

He lets you gag a few more times before he pulls your head back gently. He looks down at you sweetly and wipes the tears from your cheeks before offering his hand to help you up.

“You did so good f’me baby, gaggin’ on this big cock like a pro. I wanna stuff that pretty pussy now, though. Get on your knees f’me.”

You settle onto your knees, resting your palms on the back of the couch. A stinging smack lands on your right ass cheek and you moan.

“There’s that gorgeous ass I love to look at,” he says, squeezing it appreciatively. He lays his palm flat on your lower back, his other hand wrapping around the base of his cock. He pushes the tip into your entrance and your walls stretch around him. He’s a bit bigger than anything you’ve taken before and it stings for just a moment, making you whimper.

“I know it’s big baby girl. I’m gonna go slow,” he coos. He rubs his thumbs in soothing circles on your hips as he inches himself inside.

“You’re doin’ so good, takin’ me so well,” he praises.

“Oh fuck, I’m so full,” you moan when he’s fully sheathed inside you.

“Yeah baby? You like bein’ full of my big cock?”

“God yeah, it feels so good.”

He squeezes your hips affectionately as he sets a languid pace. He’s only been inside you for a minute and you know that no other man will be good enough ever again.

“Fuck, this is the best god damn pussy I’ve ever had,” he says, as if reading your mind. “Like it was made just for me.”

You begin to push back and meet his thrusts, your bodies moving in sync. His grip on your ass is so tight that you’re sure half moon shaped indentions will be left behind from his fingernails.

“That’s it baby, bounce back on my dick,” he grits out. He smacks your ass and groans appreciatively as it ripples underneath his palm. “Does it feel good baby, hmm? Tell me how good it feels, lemme hear you.”

“F-feels so good. You’re making my little pussy feel s-so fucking good.”

He grabs your shoulder and pulls you up so that your bodies are flush; he moves your hair aside and puts his lips to your ear as his thrusts become faster and more aggressive.

“I’m gonna destroy your pussy this weekend baby,” he says in a gravelly whisper. “I’ve been waitin’ so long. Might have to carry you into work Monday.”

“Oh god, please,” you mewl in response.

“Yeah baby? You’d like that huh, takin’ this cock all weekend?”

“Yes, oh god yes, your cock feels so good!”

He reaches around to toy with your clit and your head falls back onto his shoulder.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum,” you pant. He rubs your clit faster, pressing a frenzied kiss to your lips.

“That’s it, give it to me baby girl. Cum all over my cock.”

You grab onto his forearm to steady yourself as you cum hard around him. He talks you through it, whispering lowly in your ear.

“There ya go baby, let it go. Doing so good f’me darlin’.”

Once you’ve come back to earth, he pulls out gently and sits down on the couch. He takes you by the hand and guides you to straddle him again.

“I wanna see you baby,” he explains. “You’re a fuckin’ goddess.”

You sink onto his cock and he rests his hands on your hips. He guides your hips back and forth slowly and it feels so good that you attempt to speed up.

“No baby, let’s go slow,” he says, looking into your eyes. “Just enjoy this with me, yeah?”

You smile softly, saying, “yes sir” before grabbing his face and kissing him. His arms wrap around your torso and he holds you close, nuzzling his face in the crook of your neck.

“I want you to be my girl. Tell me you’ll be my girl baby.”

You respond without hesitation, “I’m yours Joel, all yours.”

The two of you share another kiss; Joel can no longer hold back and he plants his feet firmly on the ground so that he can thrust up into you.

“Can’t believe I get to call you mine,” he pants. “My pretty fuckin’ girl.”

“Oh god,” you whimper as he pounds into your g-spot. “Joel, fuck baby, I’m so close.”

“Me too baby girl. Should I pull out?”

“No! I want you inside me. Fuck, I want to feel you cum inside me so bad.”

“God damn, dirty little thing,” he grunts. “Gonna fill this little pussy so much.”

“Oh god, I’m cumming,” you announce, clenching around his cock. A chorus of, “fuck yes, fuck yes, fuck YES,” comes from your mouth. Joel makes a deep, guttural sound and spills inside of you, hugging your trembling body tight.

“Shit,” you giggle breathlessly.

“Yeah? Good?” he asks hopefully, just as breathless as you are.

“Good? Amazing. Incredible.”

He grins and tucks a strand of hair behind your ear.

“I could actually go again. How about you let me take you back to my place and I’ll put you in my jetted tub, hm? We’ll take a nice bath, maybe smoke a little more and then I’ll fuck you to sleep. How’s that sound?”

It’s your turn to grin and you give him a long, burning kiss.

“Sounds like an offer I can’t pass up.”

#joel miller #pedro pascal #joel miller smut #pedro pascal smut #the last of us #tlou hbo #tlou series #tlou smut

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mermaidgirl30 · 3 months

Text

✨Dark Shades of Innocence Lost Part 1: Introductions✨

Series Masterlist

A/N: Here is my new club owner Joel series! Thank you to the lovely @janaispunk for making me this beautiful mood board ❤️ Joel Miller is the biggest menace in this one. I wanted to somehow mix a little 50 Shades of Grey but also create something unique and super hot, so hope you enjoy 50 Shades of pleasure dom Joel! Comments and reblogs are most appreciated. Let me know your thoughts on this one! As always, I LOVE writing and hope you enjoy my stories as much as I love writing and sharing them with you 💕

Rating: Explicit (18+ ONLY MDNI)

Word Count: 9.7k

Pairing: Joel x fem! reader

Tags: No outbreak au, thigh riding, Joel’s dirty mouth, flirting, pining, fingering

Summary: After your friends drag you out to Club Inferno on a Friday night, you meet an unexpected man with dark brown eyes. That man is Joel Miller, who turns out to be the owner of the club. The menace that will turn your life upside down. After not dating for a couple of years, Joel finds out and strikes up a proposition for you. Keep coming back and he’ll make sure you experience pleasure like you’ve never felt before.

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

It’s Friday night and instead of sitting down with a cold glass of white wine and a book on the couch, you’re currently standing in a dress that’s too tight and heels so high you think you’ll fall over at any minute. The tight black dress clings to your body like a suction cup, and the slit in the side of your left thigh is almost showing too much skin the more you move around.

You spent the last hour sitting at your glowing vanity, curling your hair into long spirals and putting on smokey dark eyeshadow that makes your eyes stand out and deep red lipstick that sits matted against your lips. This isn’t your usual. You like to stay in after a long week at the library, not go clubbing till 2:00am. You’re not an extrovert like all your friends are, so this is a once in a while thing you even do.

You take one more look at yourself in the mirror and sigh heavily. This will be good for you. You need to socialize. You need to get back into the dating field, but that honestly just sounds like a nightmare right now. Dating in general just sucks. It’s like no man knows how to even properly treat a woman nowadays. Your last boyfriend was a complete nightmare. Tall, lanky, sports obsessed, demanded blowjobs without even offering to go down on you once. That’s how all the guys had been in the past, and you were honestly just over it. Fuck men.

Before you can get all worked up about past boyfriends, you head to your apartment door when you hear a sharp knock and giddy laughter on the other side. That meant the girls were here. Here goes nothing. When you open the door, Brianna and Taylor lose it when they see what you’re wearing.

“Oh my God, look at you!” Brianna screams as Taylor twirls you around to get a good look at you. Brianna’s soft brown eyes and long blonde curls look you over from head to toe. “You’re such a babe! And that dress? God, it makes your ass look so good and that slit in your dress?! You are definitely going to get laid tonight,” she shrieks as she gives you a quick hug hello.

“Bri, stop!” you laugh, shaking your head no. “I am not getting laid tonight. I’m so over guys,” you cringe as you roll your eyes.

“Oh, please. All the men are going to be looking at you tonight, you little slut!” Taylor smirks as her green eyes sparkle like emeralds when she looks at your short dress. Her pinned up red hair sits perfectly in a messy bun atop her head, her white heels digging into the wooden floor as she circles you.

“No, guys. Really, I don’t need to try to find someone tonight. I’m only going out because you’re forcing me to,” you complain with a huff.

“Sure, babe. That vibrator that sits in your nightstand isn’t gonna get you anywhere fast. You need to be laid properly. So we’re gonna find you a man tonight if it’s the last thing we do,” Brianna says with a beam of a bright smile.

“Whatever, let’s just go. I need a drink,” you whine as they pull you out of the comfort of your small apartment and whisk you out the door, shoving you inside the White Cadillac that sits idle on the corner of the curb.

You slump in the front passenger seat as soon as Brianna drives off, entering the busy traffic of Austin as the city lights flash brightly outside the window. You sigh and lean on the edge of the window as Taylor Swift’s “Karma” blasts through the speakers. Taylor and Brianna sing along loudly, but you sit mute with your arms crossed across your chest.

“Oh, cheer up, babe! You’re supposed to be having fun tonight, not brooding in the corner like a pent up prisoner,” Brianna laughs as she hits your arm lightly.

“I’d be in a better mood if I was curled up on my couch with a good book,” you groan as you stifle out another sigh.

Taylor leans over the back of the front seat and takes a good look at you. “Don’t be such a buzzkill. You will have fun tonight whether you like it or not! This club is to die for. I know it just opened last year, but seriously it’s the hottest club in Austin,” she says excitedly with a big grin zipped across her contoured face.

“What’s the name of this club again?” you ask with furrowed eyebrows.

“Club Inferno,” Taylor says with a smirk. “Inferno is right. It’s hot as fuck in there, and the men that go are super sexy,” she swoons as she sits back against her leather seat.

“Club Inferno, huh? Wonder how the owner came up with a name like that,” you ask curiously as you focus your sights on the busy sidewalks that are littered with dressed up couples and groups that look like they’re about to head to the club as well.

“I don’t know, babe. Maybe you can ask the owner yourself,” Brianna smirks in the front seat.

“Who’s the owner?” you ask, trying not to sound too intrigued.

“I don’t know. Doesn’t say online, but I hear rumors that he’s ridiculously hot. Like I’m talking about an 11/10 hot,” she smirks as she pulls into a parking spot a few feet from the lit up club.

“Sounds like someone I wouldn’t be interested in. He already sounds arrogant and like all the other men I’ve dated,” you spit out, a snarl hanging on your lips.

“Oh, just shut up and have some fun tonight, please. You’re killing my vibes,” she says as she rolls her eyes and puts the car in park.

“Sorry, sorry. I’ll try to have fun,” you sigh as you step out of the car onto the hard concrete, pulling your dress down so it doesn’t ride up and expose too much skin.

“Good, now let’s go drink and dance!” Brianna and Taylor scream together. You just laugh and follow them to the front of the club, stopping at the metallic black double doors as you get your IDs checked. Once they give them back, you step into the club and gasp at the sight.

The inside is absolutely gigantic. The club sits two stories high with a shimmering disco ball hanging in the middle of the crowded dance floor. The walls are pitch black with red glowing signs all around that say “Club Inferno”. The sign that sits behind the bar is also glowing red and says “Sinners Welcome”. The bar has a large mirror splayed across the wall with bottles of beer and liquor stacked high against it. The bar top has a sleek dark wooden hue to it and the bar stools are made of black leather material.

There’s dark boothes all around that are marked off for VIP lounges, private parties, or reservations made prior. Crystal chandeliers hang from the ceiling as they make shiny patterns on the dark hardwood floors. An open lounge area sits in the opposite corner of the bar where leather couches and small glass tables sit scattered around. You look away when you see a cozy couple making out in a corner of one of the couches and try not to roll your eyes.

When you turn towards the dance floor, you see the glow of fluorescent blue and red flashing lights mix in with the glittering disco ball as the Dj spins some tracks on a large display against the wall. The dance floor is crowded, maybe two-hundred people at the least stand grinding up on each other as Rhianna blasts through the speakers. Two platforms with poles attached to the center sit in the back corners of the room for anyone to use at their leisure.

Behind the bar sits two long, dark hallways with various rooms attached down the shadowed corners of the hallway. A spiral staircase sits next to the second hall and leads up to the second floor. From here you can’t see what all is upstairs, but it looks like another bar sits up there and maybe some pool tables from what you can see. This club wasn’t anything like you expected it to be. You thought it’d be small and maybe less crowded. Boy, were you wrong.

“Don’t you love it in here?!” Taylor asks excitedly as she twirls around in her short forest green strapless dress and pulls you to the dance floor.

“It’s a lot bigger than I imagined it to be,” you shout out loudly against the beat of the music. “Tay, we just got here. Can’t we sit down?” you whine as Brianna pulls you into the middle of the raging crowd.

“Not until after a couple of dances,” Taylor smiles as she pushes her back against a man in a suit that grinds up against his blonde girlfriend. You groan but go along with them.

“Loosen up, hun. The night’s just started. We’ll get some alcohol in you, and you’ll be just fine,” Brianna beams as she grabs a few Jell-O shots from the bartender that makes her away across the busy dance floor. “Drink up!” she yells as she hands you a container of red liquid.

“Fine,” you groan as you pop the shot into your mouth and instantly taste cherry and vodka mixed together. It slides down your throat easily, and you put the empty vial on the bartender’s tray. Taylor and Brianna both cheer after you take the shot and start grinding up against each other as the music switches over to a Beyoncé song.

You decide to try to enjoy yourself and sway your hips, getting into the song as the dance floor rocks back and forth. You keep your focus on the shimmering disco ball and watch the way the sparkling glass reflects off the walls. You keep your eyes from staying too much in the crowd and focus on your friends as they lift their arms and shimmy their hips to the beat.

After a couple of long songs, they agree to take a break and get some drinks. You and Taylor find an empty couch and sit down while Brianna goes up to the bar and orders a round of LITs for the table. After a few minutes, she returns with the glasses of alcohol and passes them out. You take a big gulp and feel the remnants of alcohol run down your throat with a slight burning sensation staying stagnant in your mouth.

“So, see any cute guys you might be interested in?” Taylor asks as she looks around the crowded club, focusing her eyes on a tall man with short blonde hair and sharp blue eyes. “What about that one, huh? He’s kinda cute,” she says with a flirtatious smile as she eyes him.

You scrunch your nose up and shake your head. “No, Taylor. Not that one. Maybe you can go talk to him. He looks like your type,” you laugh as you watch her eye him up and down. You take another sip of your drink and set it on the glass table as the condensation drips down the glass.

Brianna smirks at you and looks from the bar, back to you a few times. “Bri, what? I know that look. That’s a plotting face you always make when you’re up to no good.”

She just smiles wider. “You see that man at the bar? That one on the left corner with the white collared button-up shirt?” She points him out and you flick your eyes over in that direction nonchalantly.

The man she points out is sitting in one of the barstools and sips casually on a cold glass of what looks to be whiskey. You slowly drag your eyes over him, taking in the way his sleeves are rolled up to his elbows to expose thick veins that spider all the way down his arms to end in massive hands. His biceps bulge against the cotton material every time he flexes and moves to grab his cold glass of alcohol. His dark blue jeans press up against muscular thighs and a fancy black watch sits latched onto his left wrist. His hair is dark and streaked with grey lines as thick tousled curls sit wildly atop his head. A dark, patchy beard shadows his sculpted, sharp jawlines.

Your eyes move over his greying locks again slowly, taking in the way a couple curls fall against his forehead subtly. His curls look soft to the touch, you almost wonder what it’d be like to run your fingers through his hair or maybe drag your nails against that salt and pepper scruff…

You jolt out of your daydream as his eyes linger over to yours, calmly taking another drink of whiskey as his eyes stay locked on yours. You pull your eyes away and look back at Brianna. “What about him?” you ask with a shaky breath.

“The man hasn’t stopped looking at you since you walked into the club,” she giggles as you go wide-eyed.

“Oh, he has not. Please, he’s got to be looking at you or Taylor,” you reply as she looks back up at the bar.

“I don’t think so, honey,” Taylor laughs as she knocks you in the shoulder with her arm. “He’s looking straight at you.”

You look back up and freeze. His dark eyes find yours again as a small smirk appears on the edge of his mouth, curling into something that dares you to challenge his gaze. You suck in a breath and look back down, grabbing your drink as you try to calm your nerves down. Calm down, calm down. He’s just a guy. He’s probably not even interested in anything you have to say.

“You’re going to go talk to him,” Brianna smiles deviously as she narrows her eyes and smirks up at you.

“What?!” you choke out, the liquid flowing down your windpipes uncomfortably. “No, no way. I can’t.”

“Yes, you are,” Taylor encourages you. “He’s totally gorgeous. Like come on. He’s clearly at least in his upper forties. Older, probably has a lot of money, dresses nicely, and I see no wedding ring on him,” she smirks, eyes darkening as she gets up and pulls you along for the ride.

“No, Tay. Please, I can’t. I’m not…”

She cuts you off as Brianna joins in, pulling you towards the bar as your feet try to stay planted to the spot you’re in. “You’re not what? Look at you, you’re hot. Don’t waste it by being boring. Go talk to him,” she encourages as she pulls you further, halfway to the bar now as you see him in the corner of your vision eyeing you.

“No, guys. Come on. I’m too… I can’t…”

Brianna stops you from saying anything else. “Look, you're going to go talk to him, and he’s going to buy you a drink, and then me and Tay are going to go back out there and dance. And you’re going to go up there and flirt with him and twirl your hair and get his number,” she says seriously as she drags you to the edge of the bar.

“But I… he’s too… I can’t…” you stutter out.

“Go on, babe. You can do it.” Brianna and Taylor give you a hard push and shove you against the edge of the bar, only a few bar stools away from the man with the dark eyes. “Have fun,” Brianna whispers in your ear with a laugh as she grabs Taylor’s hand and leads her away from the bar, leaving you all alone with your heart pounding uncontrollably in your chest.

You take a seat on one of the empty black bar stools and rest your arms on the sleek bar top, looking over the menu nervously as you flip through the pages of drinks. You don’t look up, afraid that if you do you’ll lock eyes again with the handsome stranger. No more dating, no more dating, no more dating.

“Is this seat taken?” A deep Southern voice fills your ears as you look up and find the man with dark eyes looking down at you.

Fuck.

“Ummm no,” you answer shyly as you tuck a curl behind your ear, cursing your friends for pushing you into doing this.

“Mind if I sit?” he asks with a raised brow. You nod and he pushes back the empty bar stool, lightly brushing his leg against yours as a chill runs down your spine at the contact.

“Can I buy you a drink?” he asks as he looks you over slowly, making your eyes widen at the action.

“Oh, sure,” you respond meekly, putting the drink menu down before you rip it in half from the way you’re anxiously flipping through the pages.

“So, what’s your drink of choice?”

You muster up an ounce of courage and fire back a question without thinking. “What do you think my drink of choice is?” you ask flirtatiously, batting your eyelashes up at him as if to win him over. Your adrenaline spikes in your body, and it’s as if the alcohol turned you into another girl.

What the fuck is wrong with you? This isn’t like you. You don’t flirt with men at clubs, especially gorgeous men like him. But he’s so hot, you can’t resist. Fuck.

He chuckles at the question and drags his eyes nice and slow over your body, clenching his jaw up as he concentrates on you. You can see the calculations and assumptions he’s making swirl and tick in his mind. He’ll never guess right. He’s just like any other guy. They all get it wrong, always.

His eyes flick back up to your face as a gentle smile spreads over his mouth, forming dimples that press deep into his cheeks.

Fuck, he’s pretty.

“Hmmm, let me see,” he starts slow, his words slipping like melted butter off his tongue. “You don’t seem like the type to drink hard liquor. Fireball? Definitely not. Tequila? Can’t see it. But hmmm, let me guess…” He takes another good look at you and stares into your eyes. Those warm brown eyes searing through you as you melt into them.

God, those eyes. Those fucking brown doe eyes.

“Rum? Maybe. Vodka? Most likely. Whiskey… maybe a whiskey girl. But you…” He leans in closer, and you can smell the cologne dripping off his skin. Can practically taste the whiskey that encompasses his lips. Can almost feel how his mouth would taste with his tongue gliding against yours.

You focus on deep breaths as he rests his large hand right next to yours, barely brushing the tips of his fingers against yours as goosebumps start to crawl slowly up your arm. He laughs lightly as he forms a guess with a Southern drawl dripping off his tongue. “Malibu tonic? Guessin’ you’re a fruity cocktail kind of girl.”

“How did you know that’s one of my favorite drinks?” you ask with a wide-eyed stare.

“Just an assumption, sweetheart. I’m pretty good at readin’ people. Especially ones as pretty as yourself,” he smirks, turning toward the bar to call over one of the bartenders.

Sweetheart? Pretty? Oh fuck, you’re in trouble.

As soon as the blonde bartender comes over, he wastes no time and gives her your drink orders. “One Malibu tonic and one Jack Daniel’s Tennessee Whiskey on the rocks. Thanks, Hailey,” he smiles softly and nods as she smiles back and turns away, getting the drinks prepared in a flash.

Hailey? Of course he knows her by name. He probably knows every fucking girl in this obscene club by name.

You frown, a tinge of jealousy hitting the back of your closed up throat. But why are you jealous? You don’t care about this man, don’t care if he even buys you a drink. You don’t date, and there’s a reason you don’t anymore. But that’s a dark place you won’t go tonight or ever again.

He notices the shift in your mood as you sit up straighter and clench your jaw into place, focusing on not losing your temper over a simple thing as a name.

“Y’alright there? Look a little tense,” he asks, hovering his thick fingers closer to your hand as you pull away from him.

“I’m fine,” you bite back a little too harshly. He doesn’t respond, only nods. He knows you’re not fine, but he doesn’t press on it.

When the bartender comes over to drop off your drinks, you can’t help but notice the small silver name tag that’s latched on to the front of her black low-cut tank top. The name Hailey is in sparkly letters, and you feel shame instantly cover your face.

You’re a fucking idiot.

You take a sip of the fruity liquid and let it slide down the back of your throat, along with the bitterness and jealousy that was there seconds ago. You don’t even know his name, and you’re already acting jealous? Jesus. You’re in way over your head.

He takes a swig of his amber colored drink and swallows, a gentle smile returning to his handsome face. He sticks out his hand and you take it slowly, feeling the back of his calloused fingers as they burn into your hand, simmering like a hot fire as it runs through your veins. It’s firm, strong, powerful. And you know. You know you’re in trouble.

“The name’s Joel. What’s yours, sweetheart?” His hand lingers maybe a little too long in your hold, but you don’t shake him off. You just let him drop it when he’s ready, feeling the now cold hand as you flex your fingers into a fist in your lap, trying to remember exactly how his hand fit perfectly in yours.

You tell him your name, and it floats like a siren’s song off his lips, a trance like lull that sucks you in. “That’s a pretty name, darlin’. You come around here much? Haven’t seen you before. Think I would’ve remembered a pretty face like yours,” he says with a smirk, his coffee colored eyes focused on you. You have to work hard to find words before you lose all control of your voice.

Pretty? Oh, he’s laying it on thick.

“No, but sounds like you’re a usual here. You come here a lot or something?” you ask, eyes fixed on the way he holds his crystal glass with a strong grasp.

“Somethin’ like that,” he chuckles, a look like he knows something you don’t displaying on the lines of his forehead.

“Of course you do. Not me, this is my first time here,” you say as you shift uncomfortably in your bar stool.

“And? How d’you like it?” he asks with questions lingering in his bright eyes.

“Honestly? It’s okay. It’s a little loud for my taste, but it’s decent,” you say as you take another sip of your fruity concoction.

“Oh, just decent? Tell me more of your thoughts,” he says as he puts an elbow on the bar top and leans his cheek on his knuckles, waiting for you to answer.

You shake your head. “Nah, you don’t want to hear my thoughts. They’re… well, they’re…” You lose yours words to the blaring music that stirs across the crowded dance floor.

“Enlighten me,” he says with a husky voice while he stirs the amber liquid, eyes fixed intently on you.

You gulp at the sharp eyesight, your knees knocking against the smooth bar walls anxiously. “Well, there’s no food here for starters. I’d kill for some chicken strips right now,” you groan, salivating at the thought of food right now.

He laughs in response. “Sweetheart, this is a club. This ain’t a cheap bar with finger foods.”

You snap back at him. “Well, it’d be a hell of a lot better if the club had some.”

His eyebrows raise in defense, holding out a hand to calm you down. “Alright, calm down, tiger. Gonna start seeing claws in a second,” he laughs as you sigh and nod your head. “What else?” he asks.

“What else what?” you question as you swirl your drink around mindlessly.

“What else would you change about the club?” His eyebrows knit together like he’s concentrating on what you have to say.

When was the last time a guy ever listened to you? Whatever, he asked so you’ll tell him exactly what you think.

“The signs are all red. It’d look better if there were also pink ones. Gives some light contrast and a more subtle look,” you shrug, sipping on more of the tasty alcohol in your hands.

“Hmmm, might not be a bad idea. Anything else?” His gaze stays on you as he throws back a gulp of whiskey, sitting the crystal glass back on the edge of the flat bar top.

“Why do you care? I’m just rambling,” you say with a convicted tone.

“I might’ve talked to the owner a couple of times here and there. Might give him some suggestions next time I see him,” he smirks, making you roll your eyes at his perfect dimples.

God, why does he have to be so pretty.

“Okay then,” you say with a smug look. “The alcohol menu could use some more options, other than tons of beers. Make it more friendly for cocktails and mixed drinks. And the VIP booths? Maybe save some for general guests to reserve when they get here. The Dj? He needs to mix up the tunes, these songs get old pretty quick. Throw some throwbacks in there, play some more upbeat rock songs. And for rooms? Maybe open up some private rooms for guests who want to chill in a quieter area where they can think. It’s fucking loud in here,” you say sternly as you cross your leg over your knee and give him a devious smirk, feeling like you just let him have it.

All he does is shake his head and let out a low whistle, a small chuckle rumbling from deep within his chest. “You’re a little firecracker, ain’t ya? Shit. You sure got a lot to pick apart. Don’t ya?”

You just shrug nonchalantly. “It’s just what I’d do differently. Not that my opinion matters.”

“Sure it does, sweetheart. I’ll be sure to give him the rundown when I see him.” He winks at you, and you feel a weird flutter in your stomach that you shouldn’t even be feeling. You chase it down with another drink of alcohol, letting the burn fill the void.

“This isn’t your scene I’m guessin’?” he asks carefully, honey eyes drawing back to yours again patiently.

“No, it’s really not,” you shake your head defeatedly. “My friends dragged me out tonight, said I needed to get out of the house and let loose. I had a really long week and I was looking forward to staying in with a glass of wine, but no. Just had to come out,” you say with a huff, your cheeks growing crimson with the sudden awareness of your bad attitude and complaining.

Christ. Just calm the fuck down. You’re going to scare him off.

“What is your scene then?” he asks, ignoring your whole meltdown about coming out in the first place.

“What?” you ask with wide eyes, surprised he wants to continue the conversation with your depressing ass.

“What’s your scene, angel?”

Angel. Oh.

“Oh, uh. I… I like more quiet environments. Like bookstores. There’s nothing more I like than strolling through a bookstore with an iced coffee in my hand, just smelling the fresh pages of the books,” you smile, thinking of the last time you went to the local bookstore and fawned over the latest edition of The Odyssey. Classics were some of your favorites.

“Books, huh? What’s your favorite?” he asks, general curiosity piqued as he continues staring at you, fixedly.

You eye him suspiciously but continue. “Pride and Prejudice,” you say quietly, eyes averting from his momentarily.

“Ahh, a classic. We are all fools in love,” he quotes almost perfectly, his Southern accent making every word sound like sweet poetry to your ears.

Your eyes grow wider, shock hitting your system. “You know Jane Austen?” you ask incredibly, your hand gripping your cup uncomfortably tight.

“Mhm. Read most of her books,” he says without a hint of surprise in his voice.

He reads classic books. Holy shit.

“Wow. That’s uh-” you lose your concentration, mouth gawking open at him. He reaches out and closes your jaw for you, his calloused fingers burning your skin the more he touches you.

“Don’t act too surprised. Some men like to read the classics too,” he smirks as he drops his hand, ending the contact way too soon. “What else?”

“Huh?” you ask, still shocked at his last words.

“What else do ya like?” His weight shifts just a tad and his knee skims yours as goosebumps form over your skin, the contact almost too much for you.

“Why?” you ask, almost self conscious of yourself. There’s way more interesting girls here than you, more up to his liking probably. You’re boring while all these other girls know how to party. You’re an introvert, you shouldn’t be here. You shouldn’t be talking to him.

“Why what?” he asks with furrowed eyebrows, the lines above his forehead wrinkling at the notion as one of his tousled curls fall into his face. You almost want to push it back for him, almost.

“Why the interest in me? I’m not... I’m…”

“You’re not what?” he almost barks out as his eyes get a shade darker. It’s a little intimidating and makes you sit up straighter, aware of all the sulking you’ve done this evening. You’re just making it worse for yourself. You’re going to scare him off.

“I’m not like all these other girls in here. I’m… I’m shy, reserved. I don’t even come close to some of these women in here. I’m…”

He cuts you off as he cups your chin with his large hand, syrupy eyes clouding your vision as he stares at you intently. It makes your heart speed up frantically as blood rushes through your ears uncontrollably.

“That’s the point, sweetheart. You’re not like the rest of them. You’re interesting. You caught my attention. And you’re stunning,” he says smoothly as his eyes drop down the length of you, taking in the large slit in your tight black dress and trailing back up to your eyes, a breath catching deep in your throat.

He drops his hand from your chin and turns back to his glass of whiskey, pouring another shot down his throat as he slides it back against the sleek bar top, running a hand through his wild curls.

God, you want to run your hands through those curls, want to feel just how soft and silky they really are…

A rough voice pulls you from your distant thoughts as a tall, bulky man dressed in all black slides up beside you in the next bar stool, ogling your body as he fans his eyes over you in a disgusting manner. You want to roll your eyes and ignore him already.

“Aren’t you a sexy thing? Let me buy you a drink. What’ll it be? Tequila, beer on tap?” he asks with a snide smirk on his face.

“I've got her well taken care of. Thanks for the offer, though. But she won’t be needing that drink,” he faintly growls under his breath, placing his large hand on your leg as he curls his calloused fingers around your inner thigh slowly. You about jump from the warm contact and how it instantly eases you in a weird way. You barely know the man, why did this feel… safe?

“Oh, sorry. Didn’t realize she was with anyone,” he huffs, eyeing Joel’s hand on your bare thigh as it burns through your skin like a scalding stove.

He’s just a man. He’s just a man. Get it together. You’re not doing this tonight.

“Think she’s in good hands,” Joel breathes, his voice deep and gruff as his eyes narrow at the man. He turns with a nod and walks in the opposite direction, going to find his next victim.

Joel keeps his thick fingers pressed to your thigh for a few more seconds then releases his hand, the same time you let go of the breath you were holding. “Uhh, thanks,” you say awkwardly, leaning against the bar top to look him in the eyes again. In those pretty brown doe eyes that light up tingling feelings that you want to keep at bay.

No hookups. None.

“No problem, sweetheart,” he says as he turns to look at you again, eyes lingering on more unanswered questions.

“So, you seein’ anyone?” he asks as he drags his thumb over the rim of his glass cup, slowly collecting condensation on the tip of his thumb. The sight makes you gulp.

“No,” you say quietly, shaking your head slowly.

“You’re tellin’ me that a girl as beautiful as you isn’t seein’ anyone?” he asks in disbelief, a small disbelieving laugh leaving his lips.

“Well, I’m not,” you shrug, eyes flicking back and forth between the thumb that languidly glides around the edge of the glass and his honey eyes that stay focused on you. It’s intimidating, to say the least.

“Why not?” he asks curiously, an eyebrow raising in question as he waits for your answer. You don’t really have a good one for him, not really wanting to go into the traumatic ex boyfriends you had been with before.

“I dunno. Just haven’t found the right one, I guess. Been busy. And besides, I’m not…” You stop mid sentence, staring at Joel’s scowl on his face. What was he so mad about now? What had you said?

“Don’t give me that answer. Sweetheart, the entire bar is staring at you.” You look behind you and gasp. He’s right. All the men gathered around the counter are trailing their eyes to you, eyes ogling you from a distance, hoping to get a chance to talk to you.

You swing your bar stool back around and stop as your knees lock with his, your eyes focusing on him. Only him. “As for me, I’ve had my eyes on you the minute you stepped through those doors. You’re fuckin’ gorgeous, sweetheart. A real angel, at best,” coffee eyes honing in on you like a hawk stalking its prey. Suddenly you can’t hear the noisy music, can’t hear the clicking of the glasses behind you. It’s just you and Joel, in your own little bubble as the words crash down on you like a siren’s song.

Gorgeous. Sweetheart. You’re in trouble.

“Oh,” is all you can gasp out. He’s charming, almost too charming. And you hate him for it. Hate him for how he’s making you feel. Like you’re special, like you mean something. It makes you sick, so fucking sick.

You take a slow drink of your alcohol, hoping the taste will cool you off from the heat he just gave you. “Tell me, angel. When’s the last time a man has gotten you off?”

You choke on your drink and spit it out, wiping the cloth napkin over your chin as you catch your breath. “Excuse me?” you ask in disbelief.

“You heard me. It’s a simple question. When’s the last time a man has gotten you off?” His jaw tics and his eyebrow rises, his eyes hounding you as he waits for your answer.

You’re speechless, not believing what you just heard. But the way he’s looking at you now tells you he won’t back off till he knows. So you amuse him. “It’s been a couple of years,” you answer quietly, your voice barely audible above the ringing music.

“A couple years?” Joel asks incredulously. “Christ. No wonder you’ve been uptight lately. Y’need somebody to make you feel good, ain’t that right?” he asks with a rough, gravelly voice as he inches closer to you, your hands digging into the material of your black dress as he comes closer, closer, closer.

“I… I’m fine,” you say nervously, but he keeps leaning in, body hovering over yours as his hand ghosts over your thigh, causing goosebumps to raise in his presence.

“You’re not fine, sweetheart. You’re trembling. Your legs are shaking,” he points out as he trails his fingers lightly over your thigh, his whiskey breath breathing down your neck as he runs his lips across the shell of your ear, making the hairs on the back of your neck stand up on end.

“I could make you feel so good, sweetheart. Could make you feel things you’ve never felt before. You want it, don’t ya? I can almost smell how bad you want it,” he teases as he whispers into your ear, making your legs squeeze tighter together as you hold in a whine of need.

Fuck, stop. Not tonight, not with him. He’s too charming, too tempting, too hot for you.

The edge of his patchy salt and pepper scruff slides against your jaw, making you want to run your fingers profusely through it as you drag your nails over him. Imagining his mouth between your legs, his tongue on your clit as he makes meticulous circles over you.

Fuck.

You catch your breath and watch him pull back just the slightest, his honey eyes now darker in shade, more prominent as his pupils expand wider into dark circles. “Let me give it to ya, angel. Let me take care of you,” he says with bared teeth, a devilish grin taking form on his face as his body crowds yours against the bar stool, just hovering as his hands cover the sides of you, fingers barely grazing your hips that send a fire right through your lungs.

You catch your breath and say the most logical response. “I don’t need it. I don’t do this, I don’t…”

“You don’t what, darlin’? Don’t let a man make you feel good? Don’t let a man touch you where you need it most?” he purrs, calloused fingers finding your thigh as he runs his hand up your smooth skin, leaving burn marks with every place he touches. It’s hot, sadistic, evil.

“I… I…” You’re completely flustered from him, feeling warmth flood your cheeks. He’s so fucking charming and handsome and fuck. He’s trying to coax you, and he’s doing a damn good job at it, too.

“I can see how bad you want it,” he purrs. “The way your cheeks are flushed, and your breathing is erratic. The way you’re squeezing your thighs together as if to pretend that ache isn’t stirring in there for me. The way you keep sucking on your bottom lip and staring at me with those needy, pretty eyes,” he coaxes, leaning into you again as he runs his hot tongue over the shell of your ear.

And fuck, does it feel good.

“You want it, baby. Give in. Let me fix that throbbing ache in that pretty pussy of yours. Let me turn this good little angel into a bad little devil,” he growls, making a wave of slick run down your center as you choke on a moan. He only laughs at your needy response, your middle completely full of warmth now from his daring actions and smoldering words.

When he finally pulls back, you ask the one question that keeps ringing in your mind. “What’s in it for you?” you ask with the cock of your eyebrow, chin jutting out as you wait for an obnoxious answer that any other man would give you.

“Only the pleasure of knowing I took care of you,” he smirks, eyes glazing over at you with hunger in his deep voice.

“What? You’re not gonna make me get on my knees and give you a blowjob like any other guy would?” you ask with the taste of metallic in your throat, bitter and stale as you swallow it back down. That’s what any other man would do. No one’s ever asked what you wanted, only what they needed. Sick fucks.

“No,” he answers honestly.

“No?” you ask with bewildered eyes.

“No. I’m not other guys, sweetheart,” he states simply, the hunger still there in his dark eyes as his chest rises and falls in waves. He’s looking at you with so much intent in his eyes that it makes you dizzy.

“So, what do you say? Want me to make you feel good?” he asks as he licks his lower lip seductively. The sight about knocks you out of your chair.

“I-uh. I… need a moment. Where are the bathrooms?” you ask hurriedly as you stand up from the bar stool, pulling your short dress down over your thighs.

“Down that dark hall and first door on your left,” he says as he points in the direction of the bathrooms. You nod and race off, dodging a couple making out as you walk around them, eager to get to the bathroom.

You shove past some people dancing and walk as fast as your high heels can carry you. You make your way through the dim lit hallway and crash into the door, swinging it open as you step into the lavish, huge bathroom. You stop at the porcelain sink and look into the lit up mirror as you stare at your reflection.

You freeze when you see just how flushed you are. Your eyes are as wide as an owl’s and the veins in your neck are pulsing like crazy. Your lace panties are drenched, and you’re so turned on that you feel as if you’re about to explode. You need to cum, you need to stop the ache in between your thighs.

What the fuck is wrong with you? You don’t hook up with guys. This isn’t like you. But Joel… Joel is so devilishly handsome, so charming, a gentleman, a smooth talker. He practically got you off by just hovering over you and whispering dirty words into your ear. He was too much, this was too much. You should just go back home. But you want this. You want him.

You take one more long look at yourself in the mirror and sigh, hands digging into the sink as you give up completely. Fuck it. You want him, so you’ll have him.

When you open the door and leave the lit up bathroom, you about topple over as you hit something that feels like a thick brick wall. You look up and realize it’s Joel you crash into. You gawk at the way he leans up against the wall, clearly waiting for an answer from you.

“So, decide what you’re gonna do, angel?” he asks smoothly, his thick voice dripping like syrup all over you.

Fuck this. This man is a menace.

He takes a step forward and you take one back, a game of tag going on. But it’s not just any tag. No. He’s the hungry wolf, and he came to eat you alive.

“Not exactly…” you whisper, your voice caught in your throat.

He chuckles lightly as he takes another step forward and another, backing you up into the dark hallway that seems to go on for miles. “It’s simple, sweetheart. You can either leave or you can let me indulge you,” he purrs as he comes closer, chasing you like a game of cat and mouse.

“What if I don’t want to?” you ask out of breath, your voice getting choked up as you swallow down want and desire.

He clicks his tongue at you, coming in for the kill. “Now, now, sweetheart. Don’t be coy. I can smell the arousal already drippin’ from you. Can see how bad you want this with the way your eyes widen and lips part for me,” he says seductively, pupils blowing out as he takes a step forward and another one until he’s successfully backed you into the darkest corner of the hallway he can manage.

You knock into the cold black wall and gasp when he cages you in, letting his hands linger against your thighs as you feel the heat of his fingertips press into your hip bones. He leans over and presses his lips to the shell of your ear, whispering incantations into it as you fall into a dreamlike trance.

“Y’know, there’s more than one way to seduce a lady. I can teach you so many things, angel. Can make you cum in more ways than one, can make you feel things you’ve only dreamt about,” he whispers, letting one of his hands run up the side of your thigh, gradually lifting your dress as he teases you with his hot breath hitting your ear.

“Yeah?” you ask audibly, your own voice betraying you as you give in to his coaxing.

“Mmmm. Yeah, that’s right. Ya want it, angel? Want me to show you what I’m talkin’ about?” he asks as he blows gently in your ear, making slick pool in your center as a whine gets caught in your throat.

“Mhm,” you choke out while holding in a moan.

“Say it. Say it,” he purrs out, the soft lilt of his voice hitting the back of your spine as tingles start to pour down your body. “Pretty, pretty please. Need to hear you say it,” he whispers, his hot breath breathing down your neck like a sauna you want to jump head first into.

“Yes, yes. Want you to show me,” you plead, your voice needy with want.

“Gotta say please first,” he teases as he spreads your legs apart and places his leg in between yours, hiking his knee up to brush against your clothed folds. You whine at the action.

“Please, Joel. Pleaseeee,” you beg.

“Good girl,” he praises as he lifts the skirt of your dress, cupping his hand over your sex as you writhe in his grasp. He smirks at you and pushes the lace to the side, freeing your wet pussy as the cold air hits it, making you bite your lip in response.

He slides two calloused fingers through your wet folds, gliding down lower as he sinks them inside your dripping hole. You moan at the feeling.

“Christ. You’re so fuckin’ wet for me, angel,” he groans, hooking them up to that sweet spongy spot that makes you see stars. You choke on a moan as you clench around him.

“Ahh, there it is. There’s that sweet spot,” he purrs as he goes in knuckles deep into your wetness. He gently slides his digits out and drags his covered fingers up, up, up, as they find your clit and run slow, meticulous circles around your throbbing bundle of nerves.

“Fuck,” you moan out as you grab the front of his shirt and moan into his ear, digging your fingers into the cotton material as you hold on for dear life.

“That’s right, angel. Let me hear you, that’s a good girl,” he praises. He takes the two drenched fingers that were just inside you and pop them in his mouth, sucking off all the slick that covers his large digits. Your jaw drops at the sight.

“God, you taste so fuckin’ sweet,” he groans as he shifts his leg in between yours again, bending it just slightly as he cages you in again.

The room is hot, humid, loud, and you’re fully aware that anyone could walk down here and see you fully on display as Joel has his way with you. But you don’t care, don’t say anything about it. You just want him.

Him, him, him.

“Now, sweetheart. Gonna need you to do something for me. Call this lesson one on ways to get you off,” he instructs as he digs his hands into your hips and pulls you forward to where you’re level with his muscled thigh. “Want ya to ride me, angel,” he says, voice gravelly and hot in your ear.

“You want me to… ride you? How?” you ask with your brows knitted together.

“On my thigh, sweetheart. C’mon. Put that pretty pussy on my thigh. Want you to cover my jeans, baby. Don’t be shy, sweetheart,” he coaxes, dragging your hips forward until you’re resting your center on his clothed thigh.

“Oh,” you respond as he slowly grinds your hips into his jeans, showing you exactly what he wants you to do. He lets go and lets you set the pace, taking control as your clit drags against the rough material, catching on the most sensitive areas as you pull him closer and dig your nails into his shirt, stifling out a moan as you move up and down, up and down. Feeling the building pressure low in your stomach as you choke on another moan.

“There ya go, that’s a good girl. Ride me just like that, angel. Doin’ so good,” he praises as you feel just how turned on he’s getting. The bulge is tight around his zipper, and you can see just how big and thick he is underneath the dark denim.

Fuck. You want him, you want him so fucking bad but you’ll have to wait because right now you can’t focus on anything but your building orgasm. It’s so… it’s sooo. Oh.

You rub your aching clit against the curve of his large thigh, grinding into him as you hit that spot again and again as you rut down into him even more, gripping the edge of his shirt so tight that you swear you’re about to rip it off him.

“Joellll, it feels good,” you moan with ragged breaths as he leans down and licks the shell of your ear, whispering dirty thoughts as his hot breath runs down the base of your neck, making you sweat against his large form.

“Yeah? Just like that, angel. Bein’ such a fuckin’ good girl,” he praises with a low, gravelly voice as it consumes you whole, sending more slick down his jeans as you continuously ruin his denim.

You moan again at the praise. This is so hot, he’s so hot. And he’s so good with his words. He could sweet talk you all night long just like this if he wanted to.

“You like that, huh? Like bein’ told how good of a girl you’re bein’,” he smirks, dragging his lips over your jaw as you smell his woodsy, whiskey scent all over you. You want to taste it, drink it up till you’re drunk on him, suffocate on his intoxicating scent as it spirals you into a pit of warmth.

“Yes, yes,” you whine as he presses his thigh deeper into your center, feeling the wave of pleasure take over as you’re right there. So close, but not quite there. Almost, almost.

“C’mon, angel. Be a good girl and cum for me. Wanna see you coat my thigh with your sweet cum,” he growls, lowering his hands to your ass as he squeezes and presses your hips forward, rocking into his leg as you ride the pleasure out, feel that building release about to break.

He drops his plush lips against your neck and sucks just above your collarbone, right against the sensitive spot that drives you crazy as you moan against his lips on your skin. You feel the smirk grow on his lips as a low groan comes from his mouth as he bites down again, feeding your raw adrenaline that chases your pleasure.

The blaring music and chanting crowd disappears from the room, becoming muddled as you focus on what’s in front of you, the strong arms that grip you and clench you down to his thigh, the dark eyes that envelop you as you slide deeper and deeper into a dreamlike state. You can’t hear anything, can’t feel anything other than your ragged moans, Joel’s labored breathing, the feel of his denim against your throbbing bundle of nerves, the calloused fingers that tease the back of your thighs, the hot breath that blows down your neck as he crowds your space. It’s just you and Joel, nothing else matters. Nothing else but this. Whatever this may be.

You jar forward, catching your clit on a wrinkle as it tugs at you, screaming your name to let go. Let go, let go. You can feel the white hot heat take hold of you, feel it slowly sliding down your center as your insides flutter and clench around nothing. You’re about to cum, about to release your heat all over him. And he knows. He knows.

“Don’t be shy, angel. Let me have it. Cum for me,” he growls dominantly, wrapping his hands tight around your waist as he pushes you down deep against the denim covering his thighs, pressing your throbbing clit at just the right spot as you feel yourself let go.

You dig your fingers into the collar of his shirt and press your face against the crook of his neck as you cum hard, feeling the slick spill out of you as you tense up over his thigh, squeezing your fingers around him as you moan his name loudly into his ear, hearing your breath hitch as he hums in approval.

“That’s it, sweetheart. Say my name. Yeah, just like that. There ya go,” he praises as he rocks you gently against his thigh, making sure you get every ounce of cum out of your dripping pussy.

You take a minute to come back down to earth, back to where you don’t hear the ringing in your ears, where you don’t see the bright lights covering your vision anymore. He slowly lets his hands loosen around your waist, gently leaning you back against the wall as he slides you off his thigh, covering your soaked folds with your ruined panties as he sets them back in place against your center. You wince as his fingers brush up over your sensitive clit and let him pull your skirt back down over your thighs.

He takes a step back and brushes his fingers against the damp stain on his jeans, slowly bringing them up to his mouth as he sucks his thick digits into his mouth, lapping up your slick as he stares straight at you with blown out pupils, making you gawk at the sight.

“Taste so fuckin’ sweet, angel. Goddamn.” He curses again under his breath and drops them to his side as he sticks them deep in his pocket looking for something. Whatever he grabs, he covers it in the base of his palm, not letting you quite see what it is.

“Did you enjoy that… lesson?” he asks, cocking an eyebrow up as he stares at you with wild eyes, his tousled curls a mess as sweat beads at a few of the curls pressed against his forehead.

Lesson? Does this mean there would be more?

“Mhm,” you hum out, too fucked out to give a straight answer right now as you were still stuck on the fact that this man had just made you cum the hardest you ever had in your life. Not even your vibrator was a match for him. And he hadn't even put his mouth on you yet or put his cock in you. That was saying something.

He was dangerous, tempting, a bad habit you could get used to. He was trouble, a menace. But you didn’t care. You didn’t care. You wanted more, needed more from him. Just him.

It’s like he hears your thoughts, smirking up at you as he lifts your chin and brushes his calloused thumb against your bottom lip, his eyes trailing down to stare at them as if he was thinking of sinking his mouth down on you. You hold your breath, not ready for that yet. It was too soon, too intimate of a thing.

He drops his thumb from your lip and trails it against your jawline, dropping down a level so his eyes sink into yours.

Fuck, he’s hot.

“If you ever need anything and I mean anything, I’m just a phone call away.” He grabs your hand as he sticks a business card in your palm, closing your fingers over it as he brings your hand up to his mouth, brushing his lips against the back of your knuckles as you suck in a deep breath as his soft lips kiss your skin. It feels good. So good.

“Hope to see you soon, angel.” He drops your hand back to your side as he winks and smirks a devilish grin your way, turning back around as he makes his way back towards the rush of the crowd, entering the noise once more as you watch him disappear into a sea of people as his tousled curls get pulled into the bodies, leaving you standing in shock in the dark alone.

You uncurl your fingers and run them along the edge of the glossy white business card. You turn it over and read it once, twice, three times as your eyes widen. You read it once more to make sure your eyes don’t deceive you, but you only see the same thing sprawled across the card each time. It reads Joel Miller: Owner of Club Inferno. His number sits above the words, leaving you breathless as you realize just who you were talking to earlier. Who you were complaining to earlier.

Holy shit. Joel was the club owner?!

Oh no. Oh no, oh no, oh no. You were in trouble. You were in so much fucking trouble. How would you show your face here again? You wouldn’t. Unless…. unless you decided to come back for more. And you wanted more with him.

You take a deep breath and lean against the cold wall, trying to get ahold of yourself as you rethink everything that had happened tonight. The drinks, the conversations, the flirting, the fucking part where he made you cum while he pressed you against his strong, muscular body.

As you close your eyes for a second and swallow down your orgasmic high from minutes ago, you slowly open them back up and come to terms with yourself. You can’t see yourself not coming back here and not letting him give you another lesson…

You need it, need him. You’d never had a man make you feel so bold, so sexy before in your life. And the way he was all about what felt good to you? Well it was… exhilarating. You wanted more, craved more. So you knew right then, you had to come back. For one more thrill, one more touch, one more orgasm. You’d come back… for him.

Joel Miller was going to be the fucking bane of your existence, you just knew it.

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simp4pedropascal75 · 11 months

Text

“I love you” (Joel Miller x Reader)

words: 2.6k

trigger warnings: A LOT OF ANGST, death, sui!cide attempt, it has a “happy ending?”m fluff, reader in his 20s and Joel in his late 40s

summary: you go on a misson with joel, tommy and maria, but things doesn’t go as planned.

s/n: hey guys, i have been inactive for a while now because of school:/, but i hope you like this ff, tell me if it's too dramatic or too much and if i made any spelling mistakes or anything, i'm happy about feedback:)

Enjoy<3

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Joel and you knew each other a long time now. You’re happily married, and you never thought this all will happen, but here you are, laying naked in Joels arms. He’s still asleep, and you just watch him.

He’s so beautiful…, you think.

You don’t get the chance to watch him sleep often. Your eyes wander from his fluffy and messy hair to his bushy eyebrows. Then to his beautiful eyes, which peacefully rest. You look at his nose.

God, his nose.

You bite your lip while remembering last night: you sitting on his face while his nose is buried into your pussy and his tongue-

Okay, stop it.

You chuckle quietly while your eyes travel to his soft lips.

His lips…

You remember feeling these lips for the first time on yours.

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You and Joel first met when he came to Jackson with Ellie. Since you’ve been good friends with Tommy, you quickly got to meet him and oh my god, he was cold as fuck.

You two didn’t got along for the first time and he was mean, to be honest. But since you needed to go on missions and patrols together, you had to deal with each other.

That you and Ellie got along well didn’t made it easier for you.

But after some weeks, you caught yourself staring at him, wanting to know where he is, how he is and feeling a big desire of having him near you.

God, how you hated this feeling. The feeling of being in love with someone, who doesn’t love you back.

That’s what you thought, without knowing Joel already loved you way before you started to get feelings. He was just good at pretending. Ellie definitely noticed it and she teased him. Oh, and how she did.

But Joel and you got closer. And one time when you two were on a mission, where you two almost died. And in this moment you two realized that life is too short for not confessing the love for each other.

And that’s when he pulled you into his arms and kissed you with all his feelings, he had for you. It was raining, and it just was like in a movie.

After that you began to date, you remember how people judged you because of the age difference, but you didn’t give a shit. And thankfully the people didn’t care after a while too.

After 2 years he proposed to you and two months later you married.

Now it’s already been four months since your wedding and you actually try getting pregnant. You always dreamed of being a mother, but you knew Joels story and expected that he doesn’t want a second child, and to addition, you had Ellie. But one day on your honeymoon, he said that he would try it, for you. And since then, you tried, but with no success. But you don’t give up, and I mean, you can’t complain. Having sex with Joel Miller is…

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“You’re staring at me?”, you hear a raspy voice. It’s Joel and he rips you out of your thoughts. “Well, I had to use my chance, you know”, you smile.

“Pervert…”, Joel mumbles joking while he pulls you into a kiss. You directly feel what his intention is. “No!”, you break the kiss. “We have a busy day today.”, you say seriously while getting up. Joel sighs and you just feel his eyes directly staring through you. “Now you’re staring, old man!”, you laugh and get dressed. “I can’t help myself…”, he mumbles and stands up. You feel his hands on your waist.

Fuck, he’s still naked.

“Joel…”, you warn him while he places kisses on your neck. You almost fall for his touch, almost…

“We promised Tommy and Maria to help them out on their mission, so… nice try.”, you free yourself out of his grip and go into the bathroom. “Get ready now!”, you shout out of the bathroom, and you just hear his annoyed sigh.

Joel’s POV

I’m leaned against the doorframe, waiting for her to come down and ready to go. And then she comes down, with a big smile on her face and she just seems so god damn happy out of sudden. “So happy to see me?”, I chuckle confused while raising my eyebrows. She laughs.

How much I love her laugh…

“Well, no, not particularly about that.”, she answers, grabbing her backpack and walking towards me. “Ouch”, I chuckle, and she places a kiss on my cheek. “I will tell you when we come back.”

Y/N’s POV

Before you go, you take a look into Ellie’s room, where she’s sleeping peacefully. You smile and slowly approach her. “We’ll go now”, you whisper softly while caressing her hand. “Hmh...”, she mumbles sleepy. “Don’t make too much trouble while we’re away, love you…”. Ellie doesn’t reply, she’s asleep again.

We walk hand in hand to the gate, where we meet Tommy and Maria. “Hey there”, Tommy says to me with a smile and hugs me.

“Did you sleep well?”, he teases, knowing you didn’t sleep at all and looks at Joel with a smirk.

“Shut up, Tommy”, Joel says while rolling his eyes and then they greet each other. Maria comes towards you.

“You seem very happy today”, Maria notices and hugs you.

“Well, I am…”, I give her a soft smile.

“Everyone’s ready?”, Tommy asks, and we walk to our horses.

“Always”, you reply, and you feel Joel’s mouth at your ear: “You know, we could stay home and…”

“Joel, no.”, you laugh and wrap your arms around his neck.

“When we get back home, we can do whatever we want…”, you whisper and start kissing him. You don’t realize how long you actually stay there and make out with him until Tommy clears his throat.

“You’re done?”, he asks, and you chuckle.

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

You’re already two days on your way to the hospital to get new medical recourses.

“Okay, how about a race?”, you suggest randomly. “No.”, Joel replies seriously.

“Well-“, Maria wants to answer but you’re already gallop away with your horse.

“Dammit- Y/N!”, you hear Joel shouting and you laugh. You always loved riding, especially with your horse. You feel the wind blowing through your hair and when you see the big, abandoned hospital in front of you, you stop. Joel comes straight after you, followed by Maria and Tommy.

“What were you think-“, you hear Joel upset, but you interrupt him.

“Well, here we are.”, you say out of breath and turn to the others. You feel Joel watching you, but you can’t look at him right now, too distracting.

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

We go through the entrance of the hospital. “Let’s split up”, Tommy suggests. “Or we’re here for an eternity”.

We all agree, and Joel and you get going. You’re walking through a hallway, going into different rooms to search for medical stuff.

“Mad?”, you ask while opening some drawers.

“Kind of”, Joel answers with his rough voice and making sure everything’s safe.

“Gonna’ make it up to you, don’t worry”, you smirk, and you just hear a chuckle from him.

You two search in every stage of the hospital on the left side and thankfully found some stuff. You didn’t meet any clickers on your way, which was kind of confusing and suspicious, but the better for you. You two are on your way back to meet up with Tommy and Maria again.

“How about Ethan?”, Joel suddenly says.

“What?”, you ask confused, looking at him.

“Ethan, a name for the baby when you get pregnant sometime.”, Joel explains, and a slight smile appears on his face.

You heart melts. “Ethan is beautiful”, you answer while placing your hands on his shoulders.

“I love you…”, you whisper and looking directly into his beautiful hazel eyes.

“I love you too, princess”, he caresses your cheek, wanting to kiss you, but suddenly the wall above you begins to shake. “Watch out!”, he says while grabbing your hand and running with you some meters away. The wall breaks down and makes a big hole in the floor.

A hole to the lowest stage of the hospital.

You hear steps, very fast steps and they get louder.

“Runners.”, Joel quickly realizes, grabs your hand, and starts running. A whole wave of runners and also clickers come out of the hole, where the basement of the hospital was and chase you.

You quickly run to the entrance again, where Tommy and Maria are already waiting.

“Watch out!”, you yell and grab your gun while turning around and start shooting.

Everyone starts shooting, but it seems there are just coming more. It doesn’t take long that you all realize that your ammunition gets low.

“They’re too many!”, Maria shouts.

A clicker runs directly towards you, you wanted to shoot but you don’t have any ammo anymore. He jumps onto you. “Fuck off!”, you yell, grab your knife, and directly stab into the clickers head.

“Y/N! You’re okay?”, Joel asks you worried and helps you standing up. “I’m fine.”, you answer.

You’re not.

“Let’s get out of here!”, Tommy shouts and you all run out, to your horses and ride away.

After you’re out of danger, everyone gets off and takes a deep breath.

“Is everyone okay?”, Tommy asks, and everybody looks after each other. You get off the horse, pressing your hand on your arm.

“Guys…”, you mumble quietly. Joel turns around, so do Tommy and Maria. You look them directly into their eyes.

“Oh no…”, Maria realizes and gulps. Tommy doesn’t get a word out of his mouth.

“What?”, Joel is confused and not understanding anything. He doesn’t see it. He doesn’t want to.

You show remove your hand from your arm.

You got bitten.

“What… no…”, Joel stutters and walks towards you. “No!”, he yells and takes your arm to stare at your wound. You start to feel dizzy and sit down, leaning against the tree. Joel kneels to you, taking a bandage and pressing it on your arm.

“Y-You’re going to be fine, don’t worry, darling.”, he stammers. You look at him and a tear runs down your cheek.

“Joel…”, you whisper, but he doesn’t want to hear it. “I’m going to bandage you and then we’re going to Jackson, where you get helped…”. He’s denying it. He can’t see it. He can’t accept it.

“Joel…”, you whisper again. “No, don’t worry, everything’s going to be fi-“.

“Joel!”, you shout, and he got quiet. Now he sees it. You see tears in his eyes. Tommy and Maria do too.

It’s quiet. It’s quiet for a long time.

You’re arm begins to shake. You take your gun and realize it only has one bullet left. You look up to Joel, your eyes meet. He directly knows what you mean.

“No, you’re not going to do that”, he says seriously and rips the gun out of your hand. “Come on, you’re strong, we’re gonna make it to Jackson!”, he tries to deny it again. He wants to lift you up.

“Joel, we cant help her”, Tommy mutters.

“Please Joel, I don’t want to turn in one of these monsters…”, you cry, and you feel you slowly how you lose control over your mind. “Please…”, you lay your hand on his cheek.

“I can’t live without you… Please, I can’t do this…”, he begs while tears are running down his cheek.

“You need to take care of Ellie… People need you…”, you whisper.

“But I need you-… No, I can’t!-“, you grab his hand in which he holds your gun.

“Please Joel.”, you whisper and wipe his tears away. “I love you so much, joel…”, you smile in tears.

Joel pulls you into a hug. A long one. You feel the warmth of his body for the last time, and so does he. He places a kiss on your forehead.

“I love you…”, he stands up and raises the gun at you. His hand begins to shake.

“It’s okay…”, you smile softly while a tear runs down your wet cheek.

He stares at you. He sees your smile for the last time. He takes a deep breath and…

He pulls the trigger.

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

Joels POV

I walk into our house while I feel how my lungs begin to tighten. I can’t get Ellies cry out of my head when she saw me carrying Y/N’s body. I try to breath but everywhere I look, it reminds me of her. I try to walk up the stairs and go to the bathroom, thinking I’m going to throw up. I fall on my knees in front of the toilet. My vision starts to get blurry, but then I suddenly see something on the edge of the bathtub and I remember the morning before we went on the misson.

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

How much I love her laugh…

“Well, no, not particularly about that.”, she answers, grabbing after backpack and walking towards me. “Ouch”, I chuckle, and she places a kiss on my cheek. “I will tell you when we come back.”

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

I grab after it, but I don’t recognize what is it, but when my visions starts to get clearer again, my heart stops.

It’s a positive pregnancy test.

One months later

I’m sitting on the edge of the mountain, watching the moon. It was our favorite place.

But the moon doesn’t seem very round, I’m drunk. I drink my whole beer and place it to the side, then I take my gun, looking at it.

I think of her, every fucking second. I see her smile, I hear her laughs, I feel her touch and I feel her presence. But everything is just in my head. She’s gone. If I stayed with her in Jackson, everything wouldn’t have happened. I wouldn’t have lost my love… and my baby.

I place the gun towards me, and my hand begins to shake, again.

I pull the trigger, but suddenly everything freezes. Like the time has stopped.

“Don’t”, you say and take a sit next to me. I look to my side and you’re there.

“Joel, you’re needed here. You still have a purpose to fulfill here. Think of Ellie. She couldn’t handle losing two of the people she loves.”, I hear your voice saying to me and feel your hand on mine. “We’ll see each other again, but not now. I love you.”

I flinch. The bullet directly passes my ear. I flinched, again. Just like I did when I lost Sarah..

Some years later

“Joel, get up…”, I hear Ellie. “Joel fucking get up!”. I can’t reply.

“Please stop… Please don’t do this!”, she shouts.

“Joel please get up!”, that’s the last thing I hear and then everything goes black.

I slowly wake up, feeling grass under me. I slowly get up, confused, but feeling no pain. I look around, I’m in a field and in a distance, I see a house with a sheep ranch. “Hey there, old man.”, you say, and I turn around. You run into my arms, and finally, I feel you again. “I missed you…”, I mumble while taking your face into my hands. “I missed you too…”, you reply and then our lips meet.

“Come…”, you smile at me and take my hand, walking through the field towards the ranch. In the distance I see Sarah, she’s waving me. “Come on dad!”, she shouts from the distance, and I smile.

I stop walking, taking a deep breath and then looking at you.

“I love you.”

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guess-my-next-obsession · 1 year

Note

joel begins the habit of picking up a book here and there, so during the reader’s birthday, he gifts her a book he read and annotated because that fucking shit is so cute

The Gift

pairing: pre-outbreak!joel miller x f!reader (Elementary-verse)

rating: F (no warnings besides elementary!joel being impossibly perfect, also didn’t proofread or edit!)

wc: <1k

series masterlist | joel masterlist

He was never much of a reader, not as a kid, definitely not as a teenager, and even in college he only read what he had to. When Sarah was born, he read to her every night, no doubt forming her love of books from an early age. As she grew up and the material grew with her, he attempted to read along but quickly found he much preferred non-fiction over the young adult novels she liked so much. But when he met you and consequently became roped into your weekly book club—starting with Sense & Sensibility—everything changed.

Now, he wanted to read, wanted to enjoy what you enjoyed, constantly searching the bookstore he’ take Sarah to every month for books he’d think you’d like so that he could gift you with something you hadn’t read before, not realizing just how much of a challenge that would prove to be.

Eventually, he stopped looking for books he thought you’d like and started simply shopping for himself. He was surprised at the collection he’d accumulated in the three years of being with you—of becoming a bookworm just like you and his daughter. He’d go through a book a week, often staying up past his bedtime when the material was gripping enough to warrant it. He’d even make little annotations in the margins, jotting down quick thought or connections to the earlier plot, but more often he wrote of how the text reminded him of you.

He found it near impossible to read fiction and not find glimpses of you in the sea of black print, detailed descriptions of a new spring day or pretty dialogue spoken between two lovers always pulling his mind to you. In the blank margins he’d write to you as if he planned for you to read them, as if it were a letter, “You’d roll your eyes at me if I said that.” and “You’re going to laugh, but I cried at this part while you were sleeping.” in messy cursive along the pages.

One night, a few weeks before your birthday, a lightbulb went off in his brain as he began to worry about what he was going to get you. You didn’t like much unnecessary shit, preferring he gifted you an outing, something that would make a memory for the two of you to share. You didn’t want jewelry, he knew that for certain after making the mistake of buying you a pricey necklace for your first anniversary only for you to order him to take it back and use the money to take you and his daughter to San Antonio for the weekend instead. But one physical luxury you never turned down was a new book. He’d already planned a trip to Houston for just the two of you as a surprise, but what if he also compiled a stack of his three favorite books to gift to you? It would satiate his desire to give you something physical, something from him, and you couldn’t complain because, “Baby I bought these for myself, and now they’re all written on so I can take ‘em back.”

The day approached, Joel waiting until right before you hopped in his truck before offering you a wrapped pyramid of books tied together with a ribbon, an expectant smile on his face as you eyed the gift with a look of delighted surprise.

“What’s all this?” you asked, accepting the books into your hand as you leaned back into he open frame of the passenger side door.

“A gift,” he shrugged. “Sarah wrapped it up all fancy.”

“I guessed,” you smirked, turning to set the books down on the passenger seat, your fingers slipping to loosen the bow holding them together before carefully tearing off the pastel blue floral print of the wrapping paper.

“S’just some books I liked,” he continued, a hint of nervousness and God, I hope you like this in his voice. “You probably already have copies.”

It was true, you already owned The Great Gatsby, One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest, and Brave New World—Joel liked the classics best, it seemed—but yours didn’t feel as nice in your hands as Joel’s did. You liked the worn edges, the broken in spine, the rabbit ears that he made before you gifted him a bookmark from the school library. But most of all, you loved the scribbles of thoughts written over every plank space he could find, Joel’s words far more interesting and compelling than the book itself.

You studied all of them with awe, your eyes scanning the annotations quickly, seeing lots and lots of you in it. You were sure if you lingered to long on any single sentence you’d end up sobbing right there in the driveway, so you closed the book in your hand and set it down on top of the others before pulling Joel in tight.

“That was the best gift ever,” you mumbled as you held his face in your hands and pecked his lips. Joel grinned and backed you up against the side of the seat, pinning your body there while he gave you a real kiss, deep and slow, leaving you chasing after him when he pulled away.

“I love you,” he whispered through a smile.

“I love you.”

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal fluff #joel miller #joel miller fic #joel miller reader insert #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fluff #joel miller x y/n #tlou fanfiction #joel tlou #elementary

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errorryx · 1 year

Text

grian's confession booth

read on ao3 | limited life ensemble, 3.4k words

Under the impression that Grian can't hear them, some of his fellow server members take the opportunity to spill the beans on things they probably would never have told him otherwise.

—

Joel hadn’t known what to do when Grian woke him and Jimmy early in the morning, with a look on his face that was desperately trying to be a smile. Once they were both properly awake and had stopped groaning about it, Grian had launched into an explanation that had done very little to soothe their concerns.

It’s a Watcher thing, he’d said. I’ll be back before you know it, hopefully by tomorrow. I’m sure the two of you will keep me safe while I’m gone, right?

Jimmy agreed almost immediately, and Joel a little more grudgingly, still working under the assumption that Grian was pranking them. It wasn’t until Grian climbed up on the llama, said his goodbyes, and went perfectly, horrifyingly still that Joel was even partially convinced otherwise.

He stared at Grian for a long time after, waiting for him to mess up and reveal his hand. But Grian didn’t move. He didn’t even blink. Joel made a point of watching his stomach for a while to see if it was moving, and he was pretty sure Grian wasn’t breathing either.

“D’you think his heart’s still beating?” he asked, casting a nervous glance in Jimmy’s direction.

The unreadable expression on Jimmy’s face slowly melted back into a more familiar look of contemplation, and Joel breathed a sigh of relief. “Dunno,” Jimmy said. “S’pose there’s only one way to find out.”

“Yeah,” Joel agreed. “You should check his pulse.”

“Me? It was your idea, wasn’t it?”

“What? I’m not touching him! Not when he’s all—” Joel gestured. “You know.”

Jimmy crossed his arms, the first hints of a well-worn scowl starting to form on his face. “So you expect me to do it instead?”

“Well, you’re the one who knows about this stuff, not me. Whatever your deal is.”

“Whatever my deal is? What’s that supposed to mean?” Jimmy asked, immediately defensive. “You don’t see me just up and leaving my body, do you? That’s a Grian thing. I’ve got nothing to do with it.”

“Whatever,” Joel huffed. “It doesn’t matter, anyway.” He didn’t want to argue with Jimmy while Grian was gone, or he’d have nobody left.

But after a while, Jimmy left anyway, leaving Joel to watch Grian on his own. There was something about hanging out with a silent, unmoving Grian that made Joel want to talk and talk and never stop, just to fill the silence. He rambled on about his plan to build a submarine, built a tower out of carpet, and got to work flooding the mansion. Before he knew it, he was leaning on the fencepost of Grian’s enclosure, prattling on about nothing at all. Thank god no one else was there to hear him.

“Jimmy never tells me anything,” he complained. “Neither of you do. Yesterday I didn’t even know this was something you could do, and now here you are, dead to the world or whatever. It’s freaking me out. Couldn’t you at least have closed your eyes?”

Grian didn’t answer. He sat perfectly still atop his llama, his eyes fixed on a spot somewhere off in the distance. Joel followed his line of vision, but he didn’t see much of anything in that direction.

“I’m not really mad, you know,” he said. “Just—I’m worried about you, okay? I know that’s not very bad of me, but I can’t help it. I know Jimmy’s worried too, he worries about everything.”

The uncomfortable silence lingered a little too long for Joel’s taste. Finally, the llama interrupted with a loud bray right in his ear, making him jump almost a foot in the air.

“Oi! Don’t do that.” Joel glared at the llama, who stared right back at him. The stupid llama looked more alert than Grian did. “You better not tell Jimmy I’m sat over here worrying, alright, ‘cause I’m doing just fine. Having a fantastic time out here all by myself.”

If Grian was listening, Joel hoped he was convinced. That would make one of them, at least.

—

“Oh, good, there you are, Grian,” Martyn told Grian’s unmoving form. “I’m really sorry I killed you. It was self-defense, I swear. I hope this doesn’t make us enemies when you get back, but for now we just need to get you somewhere safe.”

He started digging down, taking Grian along with him. Hopefully Joel and Jimmy wouldn’t attack him again, because he really didn’t want Grian to die a third time. He hadn’t wanted him to die a second time either, but it had all happened so quickly.

“I hope you’re doing alright,” he told Grian as he dug, “whatever you’re up to. Kick some ass. Or don’t, if that’s not what you’re going for.”

It wasn’t much longer before Jimmy and Joel made it back to spawn and immediately started digging down to find Grian. None of them died this time around, and Martyn managed to convince them that he wanted to protect Grian, too—especially after that death, which he did feel rather bad about. Joel and Jimmy left, leaving Martyn alone with Grian again.

“Anyway,” he said. “Like I said. Hope you’re doing okay out there. Get home safe. Don’t destroy yourself and doom the rest of us to a life of eternal torment.” He hesitated. “The occasional torment is still okay.”

Grian didn’t answer. Martyn began digging out some more space around him, boxing him into a corner. “I’ll be here if you want to talk about it, or something,” he said, feeling a bit foolish for even speaking the words. “Yeah. Whatever.”

Grian’s eyes didn’t refocus when Martyn was blocking his line of sight. Martyn placed a torch down right beside Grian’s head, just to see if his pupils would dilate.

They didn’t.

“Huh.” He took a step back, breaking the torch. “You know, maybe it’s best if we hide you a bit.”

He filled the hole he’d dug up to the surface with water, letting it fall from the ceiling right in front of Grian. That way, it’d be easier to get in and out. He needed to invite some other people down here, or he’d start to go mad.

“Hey, Cleo!” he called, faintly hearing her voice from above. “Come down here and check this out!”

—

“Here he is!” Martyn said, making a ta-da gesture with both arms. “He looks just like a fortune teller, doesn’t he?”

He does,” Cleo agreed. “The water does him a lot of favors. Hard to tell there’s anything the matter with him.”

She peered through the water stream at Grian, who stood perfectly upright, staring right through her. The water obscured most of what was uncanny about him, but it couldn’t hide his impeccable posture. The real Grian was always hunching his shoulders, bending his knees, constantly plotting his next move, but this Grian reminded her more of a mannequin than of himself.

“What’s her fortune, Grian?” she heard Martyn ask.

Cleo laughed, idly brushing her fingers against the now-dried blood she’d smeared over her cheeks. “That I’ll die an untimely death, most likely.”

“I’d say that applies to all of us, doesn’t it?”

“Mmm.” She took her eyes off Grian for a moment to give Martyn a scrutinizing look. “You wouldn’t happen to know what he’s up to, would you?”

“Oh, I haven’t got a clue,” Martyn said. “Your guess is as good as mine.”

She took a step closer. “I do hope you’d know better than to lie to me.”

“I wouldn’t lie about this, Cleo. Grian and I, we…we don’t talk much about this kind of thing.”

Cleo believed him. When Martyn started sounding pathetic, he was usually being honest.

“What about back home?” Martyn asked. “Does he talk about this stuff on Hermitcraft?”

“Not to me,” Cleo said dismissively. “You’d have to go to Pearl about that, I expect. If anyone knows, Pearl knows.”

“Then why don’t you ask her?” Martyn suggested.

“Pearl’s not so easy to threaten,” Cleo said, allowing a small smile to creep across her face. “Besides, it’s really none of my business. He’ll be back soon enough.”

“Right, yeah. Of course.”

Cleo had no reason not to take Grian at his word—or Joel and Jimmy at theirs, since they were the ones that had passed on Grian’s message. But she couldn’t help wondering what would happen if Grian didn’t return in a timely fashion. Would they leave him here for the rest of the game, letting his clock run out naturally? Would red players flock to him, unable to resist the temptation of an easy kill?

“Let’s get some other people down here to have their fortunes read,” she said briskly. “Keep him company.” No use letting herself brood over hypotheticals.

—

“Hi, Grian!” Scar said. “I’m so sorry, but it had to happen. Thank you.”

“Scar, this isn’t a confessional,” Bdubs laughed at him. “He’s a fortune-teller.”

“Hey, it can be whatever you want it to be,” Scott said. “For Scar it’s a confessional, for the rest of us it’s fortune-tellings…”

“Thank you, Scott.” Scar hopped into the water stream, poking his head out on the other side so he could breathe. “I’m sorry I killed you, Grian, but it was part of the moment. You understand the moment, I’m sure. Things happen!”

When he opened his eyes a moment later, he realized how close he was. Grian’s eyes were hollow and unblinking, and his lips were pressed firmly together, neither smiling nor frowning. If Scar didn’t know any better, he would have thought he was looking at a statue of Grian, not his real human body.

He pulled back as quickly as he could without making it look like he was panicking, and turned his back on Grian entirely as he faced the others. “That’s a relief. He said he forgives me!”

No one seemed impressed, but Scar didn’t care. There were too many people around for him to say what was really on his mind, anyway.

—

“This is weird,” Etho said.

Until right this second, he hadn’t fully considered how weird it would be to talk to Grian one-on-one like this. He hadn’t gotten a good look at Grian in all the chaos earlier, so this was his first time taking it all in.

“Cleo said I should go talk to you,” Etho said, “and I guess she was right, because this is really putting things into perspective. Like, sure, I spent a ton of time mining today and only found two diamonds, and then I died to a creeper! But it could be lot worse. I could have died twice and found no diamonds.”

The worst thing about it was how subtle it was. Etho couldn’t put his finger on anything specifically wrong, but he could feel the tension in the air just from his proximity to Grian. Grian’s…body. His temporarily unused body.

“I’m about to turn yellow, actually,” Etho said. “Two minutes. Comin’ up pretty soon, and I think I’m gonna go kill somebody once it happens. ‘Course, you’re already yellow, so you’re safe.”

Grian didn’t answer. Etho shuffled his feet, wondering how long this conversation was supposed to go on.

“And you know what?” he said. “Bdubs said he’d ditch Scar and Cleo for me in a heartbeat. His exact words.” Grian did not seem shocked to hear it.

“I don’t really know what to do with that,” Etho admitted. “I don’t really know what to do with Bdubs in general, but you know what I mean. I swear, sometimes I think we have polar opposite brains—I don’t know how we put up with each other.

“Bdubs loves swearing his undying loyalty to people—well, mostly to me, I think. Hard to wrap my head around it sometimes, but there’s only two outcomes, y’know? Either he’s lying, which would be bad, obviously, or he means, it, which…

“Well. We’ve done this whole thing before. I don’t know if it’s a good idea. I don’t know if I want to betray my whole team for him or whatever. Which is dumb, right? It’s just a silly game, I know they’ll all forgive me after it’s over, but Bdubs…we don’t have a great track record in these games, the two of us.

“I guess you’d understand that better than anyone.”

Grian didn’t answer.

“This was weird,” Etho said. “This was really weird. I’m gonna go.”

He took one last look at Grian before he returned to the surface. Grian still hadn’t moved, but then again, maybe he had. Maybe he was moving so slightly that Etho didn’t even notice. Usually Etho was a pretty perceptive guy, but he had his blind spots.

“You better not tell Bdubs,” he said, and left.

—

“Hey, Grian!” Impulse said. “Heard you had a rough time this session, huh?”

He’d already seen Grian when the boogeyman had been chosen, but Impulse was very distracted at the time. Without a bunch of people laughing and talking around him, Grian looked downright ghostly, and Impulse couldn’t say it wasn’t getting to him.

“I’m sorry you died,” he said. “I feel really bad about that, even though I didn’t have anything to do with it. Funny, right? I had something to do with someone else’s death, and I don’t feel bad about that at all. Not sure what’s up with that.”

Grian’s blank expression was a little warped through the water, and for a moment, Impulse almost thought Grian was giving him a look of exasperation. “Okay, okay,” Impulse said, “I know exactly what’s up with it. I guess I can be honest with you, since you’re kinda down for the count right now. We’re all here to let loose, right? Nothing wrong with a bit of murder between friends! It’s just a game, and Pearl and I will go back to being friends again once it’s over.”

Grian didn’t answer, but that was okay. Impulse didn’t want anyone else to hear what he was about to say. It was a good thing Martyn had set this up, because after a long day of contemplating murder, it was getting difficult for him to keep his thoughts to himself.

“I’m planning on killing Bdubs when I get to red.” He let out a long sigh of relief. “Gosh, that feels good to admit. Been keeping that one quiet for a while. I’ve always wanted to have one of those big dramatic moments like the rest of you, and I’ve never gotten the chance. It's only fair, right? Sure, winning would be nice, but all I can really think about is the moment I finally get my turn to do something people will remember.

I don’t think that’ll make a big difference to my teammates—not to Tango and Skizz, at least, they’re not the biggest fans of Bdubs right now. But I can’t help thinking if I had to choose between keeping my team safe or focusing on my plan, I’m not sure I would—”

He paused, hearing some noises from up above. “Skizz and Tango are on their way, I think—yeah, here they come.” Impulse took a step back to let Tango and Skizz out of the water. “Hey, guys!”

“Hey, Impulse!” Tango said, stepping over the cobblestone base of the water stream. “Did I hear you talking about us?”

“All good things, I’m sure,” Skizz added, jumping out behind him.

“Of course! I was just telling Grian about our beautiful new tower,” Impulse said, prompting an irritated noise from Tango. “He said all the best towers are asymmetrical nowadays.”

They seemed to believe him, thankfully. And if Grian had heard any of Impulse’s secrets, he didn’t breathe a word.

—

“Hey, Grian. Just checking to see if you were back yet before I went to sleep.”

Pearl had seen Grian like this before, here and there, but it didn’t make it any easier. Even after everything, she wasn’t immune to getting the creeps.

“A lot happened today,” she told him. “Lots of people died. Including me! Twice! I thought I had this one in the bag, you know, and now look at me, I’m yellow! Though admittedly, there’s a lot of that going around.”

Pearl was pretty comfortable talking to Grian like this. She’d tested him before, telling him all manner of secrets and bits of gossip that came to mind. She knew he wouldn’t be able to resist bringing it up afterwards, and he’d never mentioned any of it to her.

“I just can’t get into it like I did last time,” she admitted. “Playing to win seems a little pointless, doesn’t it? I already found out what happens when I win. It doesn’t fix anything. I really wish you’d warned me.

“I don’t know how you still manage it. You’ve kept trying to win all the way through every one of these games. I’m not sure I want to keep trying anymore.”

She poked him in the stomach, just for good measure. If all else failed, she’d always be able to get a reaction out of Grian that way. He didn’t move, which was proof enough for her.

“Thanks, Grian,” Pearl sighed. “Good luck out there.”

—

“Well, hey there, Grian! Thought I’d stop by one last time.”

Everyone else had gone to sleep for the night, but Scar couldn’t keep himself away. He’d waited for spawn to be deserted as long as he dared, but Grian had told everyone he’d only be gone for a day, and Scar didn’t want to miss his chance. “Can you hear anything people have been saying to you?” he asked.

Grian didn’t answer.

“I’m just going to assume you can’t, for the sake of my own well-being.” Scar checked his watch, still ticking down the time as merrily as ever. He could swear that his timer had gone a little wonky in Grian’s absence, though it was hard to tell in all the chaos. He’d killed five people today, but hadn’t gotten full credit for all of them. Hopefully Grian would set things straight when he got back.

Grian had been one of those kills, and even hours later, Scar’s head was still rushing from it. He sat back against the wall, facing the opposite direction from Grian. Scar had learned his lesson earlier about getting up close and personal with him.

“I said I was sorry, earlier,” Scar said. “I don’t know how true that is.”

He felt bad almost immediately after saying it. “I shouldn’t say that. I do feel bad, you know! I’m not like—like you, or Joel, or Bdubs, I guess. I love causing some chaos, but things settle down and I start regretting it a little. And I do regret it, but I don’t feel sorry, and I’m not sure why.

“I’m sorry for not being sorry, I guess.”

Grian didn’t answer. Usually when Grian was silent, which was really only when he was asleep, Scar could listen for his breathing. This time, he heard nothing but the trickling water between them.

Grian had always been a constant, in more ways than one. Scar could depend on him to stir things up whenever they were getting too boring. He could always count on finding Grian, if not in the center of the action, then right on the edge instead, either orchestrating the chaos or just observing it—drawn there like a magnet the way Scar was drawn to him. But the one thing Scar never thought he’d lose was the simple fact of Grian’s physical presence.

Scar had thought about killing Grian plenty of times, but the only time he’d managed to do it was when Grian wasn’t Grian at all. No death cry, no promise of vengeance. Not even a breath.

“Don’t worry,” he said, turning his head to the side to catch Grian’s silhouette in the corner of his vision, as close as he was willing to get. “I’ll make it up to you. Once you get back, I’ll work up the nerve to kill you for real. I’ll make you proud.”

Grian didn’t answer, but Scar could envision his smile. Not his feverish post-death laughter, but the softer, rarer expression of fondness he made when he thought no one was looking. Scar had caught only wisps of it in the past, but if he squinted, he could almost see it through his lashes.

He didn’t mean to fall asleep like that, leaning up against the wall of a tiny cave in the ground. But he couldn’t resist the thought of Grian waking him up the next morning, with either a friendly smile or a sword through his stomach.

“Goodnight, Grian,” he said.

Grian didn’t answer, which was just fine with Scar. It was safer that way.

—

if you read this all the way through and enjoyed, please consider reblogging!

(also, since i've been asked about previous fics, you're welcome to interpret and tag this as shipping if you like. i intentionally left it up to interpretation.)

#grian #goodtimeswithscar #smallishbeans #inthelittlewood #zombiecleo #ethoslab #impulsesv #pearlescentmoon #limited life spoilers #my stuff #my writing #lml

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thetriumphantpanda · 1 year

Note

CHARLIE you talented writer YOU!! If I could give you the world I would. I’ve been enjoying reading all these prompts turned into fics! Beautifully and nastily written 🤭

I would like to request ‘i want to see you’ fwb with Javier Peña. If you could make it angsty, dirty and fluffy in the end, I’d gladly kiss the ground you walk on. Luv ya! 😘

Oh my god Anon, you have no idea how much this message means to me ❤️ I'm so glad you're enjoying my writing - it makes me the happiest gal alive when people take time out of their day to tell me they like what I'm producing, so thank you 🫶🏼

This prompt flew out of my fingers at lightening speed - thank you! I hope you enjoy it!

Pairing | Javier Peña x Female Reader

Word Count | 1.9K (I'm getting carried away with these now!)

Fluff, angst and of course, smut below the cut! Still open for prompts - check here and pop into my ask if there's anything you want to see! Writing for Javi P, Javi G, Joel Miller, Frankie Morales and Dieter Bravo!

Javier slammed the phone down onto his desk for the third time in thirty minutes, putting a cigarette between his lips to light it, feeling the slight relief of the nicotine in his system almost immediately.

“You know, if you slam that any harder you might actually finally break it.” Steve mused from his place opposite him.

Javier glared at him, using his free hand to massage his temple. It had been a rough day. A failed attempt to capture one of Escobar’s right-hand men and a dressing down from Messina about ‘wasting resources’ had him furious and in these times, it was always you that he’d turn to for relief. He’d pick up the desk phone, only ever after midnight, mumble down the phone that he was coming over and hang up. He’d spend as long as he could buried inside of you, seeking the comfort and release he needed before he’d get up, dress himself and leave.

At the beginning it suited you. Relatively new to Colombia and the administration you’d found it thrilling that the famous Javier Peña had taken to calling you instead of turning to the company he’d always had at the city’s brothels. But then it had started taking it’s toll. He’d call in the early hours of the morning, begging to see you and you’d always let him come but then he’d come to expect that he could waltz in and take exactly what he wanted and leave without an explanation, and it was beginning to make you feel like nothing more than a whore yourself.

Two weeks ago, when he’d called and told you he was coming over you’d refused. You’d complained you were tired and needed an early start, to which he’d pointed out that it had never mattered before. You’d lost your temper, shouting down the phone about it always having to be on his terms, in the dead of night, with no-one else being able to know what the two of you were doing. You’d slammed the phone down on him and done everything possible to avoid him since.

“I don’t even know what I’ve done.” Javier spoke to Steve, continuing to massage his temples.

“I didn’t think you were actually this dense.” Was Steve’s blunt reply.

“What the fucking hell is that supposed to mean?” Javier spoke with a harsh tone.

“Dude, you’ve been fucking her for months now, you do exactly this, phone her when you’ve had a bad day, turn up, get your fill and leave,” He had waved his hands whilst trying to explain, “You treat her no differently to any of the girls you saw before apart from this time she doesn’t charge you for the honor.”

“She knew what she was getting into.” Was what Javier replied with.

“That don’t make it right, man,” Steve tried to reason, “If you’re going to be friends with benefits, you’ve got to be her friend.”

Javier growled, stubbing out his cigarette before rubbing his face with his hands, “You know, sorry would probably go a long way,” Steve said before standing up, “I’ll see you tomorrow man.”

Javier picked up the phone once more, stopping to decide if this was really the right thing to do before dialing your number for the fourth time. He was convinced it was going to ring out again, but the ringing stopped, and he could hear a distant shuffling on the other end of the phone.

“Hello?” Your voice drifted through the receiver, immediately dissipating some of the tension in his shoulders.

“Hermosa?”

“What do you want Javier?” There was an ice to your voice that he wasn’t used to, even when he spoke to you last time the tone had been more one of disappointment than anything else.

“I just wanted to hear your voice.”

He could hear you take a deep sigh on the other end of the phone, “Well, you’ve heard it now, can I go back to bed?” He could already tell you were moving to hang up the phone.

“Hermosa, wait, please.”

On the other side of the phone, you were stood in the entryway of your apartment where the phone lived, fighting with your brain telling you to hang up and your heart telling you that you couldn’t spend another day without him.

“I’m still here.” You whispered softly.

“I want to see you.”

You closed your eyes and tipped your head back, silently wishing that this was easier. You cared about him, cared about making him feel good in the dark hours when no-one else could, but you also cared about the fact that he really did make you feel like shit when he got up and dressed himself and left without a word.

“I’m going to bed in 30 minutes, so hurry.”

***

You weren’t quite sure how he’d managed it but in just under 20 minutes he was knocking on your door. You tried not to think about the speed limits he’d broken to get here in the time he had.

You opened the door for him, expecting what always happened, for his lips to be on yours in seconds, back pressed up against the wall as his hands roamed underneath the loose-fitting top you were wearing. Instead, he walked in and straight past you. That was new.

“You want a drink?” You asked, pointing to the bottle of whiskey and the glass that you usually always set out for him.

“No, I’m okay thank you.” That was also new.

He stood awkwardly in your space. He really only ever spent time in your bedroom and something about him stood in the living area seemed wrong. You walked up behind him and placed a hand on his shoulder.

“Bad day?” You asked.

“The worst,” Was his reply, “It’s all bullshit, hermosa, I can’t do right for doing wrong, they’re always one step ahead of us.”

You squeezed his shoulder in understanding, “What do you need?”

He turned to look at you, the darkness usually present in his eyes was replaced by a soft wanting stare towards you, “I just want you, it’s all I ever want.”

You took hold of his hand and led him towards your bedroom. You used soft hands to push his shoulders, sitting him down on the edge of the bed as you sank to your knees in front of him, his eyes never leaving you as you did.

“Take off your shirt.” You commanded softly, watching as he dragged it up and over his head and discarded it to the floor before leaning back on his hands.

He watched intently as you made light work of undoing his belt, dragging it through the belt loops to discard next to his shirt on the floor.

“Lift your hips up.” You instructed once the button of his jeans had been dealt with.

You dragged his jeans down his legs, fighting to get them off his feet, your eyes focusing on his semi-hard cock sitting right in your eyeline.

“You need me to help you relax?” You asked, looking up at him through your eyelashes.

“Please, querida.” He begged.

You gently took his cock in your hand, using it to pump him to his full glory before dipping your head to him. You gently licked your tongue over the head, reveling in the sounds that fell from his mouth. Spurred on by his excitement, you took him fully into your mouth, letting him hit the back of your throat before pulling back short of choking on him to shower attention back to the weeping head of his cock.

You continued like this for a moment, taking him as far into your mouth as you could, using your hand to pump the rest of his length and then using your tongue to taste the salty drops of precum at his head.

“Hermosa,” He choked out, “Please, I need to be inside you.”

You pulled your face back but kept your hand running slow movements up and down his cock, “Get on the bed and lie back.” You demanded, standing and shedding your clothes as he did as you asked.

Once you were naked you crawled onto the bed, settling yourself above him as a grin formed on his face. He loved watching you ride him and you knew it. He watched with dark eyes as you reached a hand down between your legs, gathering the wetness weeping from your pussy, using your wet fingers to circle your clit. You dragged your fingers back down and inside of you, pumping two fingers into yourself, keeping your eyes on Javier’s before pulling them out and bringing them to his mouth.

“Go on,” You urged, “I know you like to taste me.”

As he sucked your fingers into his mouth and ran his tongue all over them to clean your slick off them, you shifted your hips above him and slowly sank down onto his cock, watching his face twist with the pleasure on your tight heat enveloping him.

“Jesus Christ, querida, you feel incredible.”

You smirked down at him, slowly lifting your hips a way off him before sinking back down, placing your hands on the headboard for leverage as you began fucking yourself on his cock. Javi’s hands flew to your hips, guiding you to move in exactly the way he liked, grinding into him as you sank back down onto him every time. You stayed like this for some time before Javi used his hands to still your hips.

You grinned, knowing exactly what was coming. He was taking control. Keeping you above him, he brought his knees up, resting them against your backside to give him purchase before he started fucking himself up into you. The friction of his thrusts was incredible, the feeling of fullness was something you’d undeniably missed.

“Oh my god, Javi.” You moaned, hands flying to your tits to grab and palm them, using your fingers to give attention to your nipples.

“I’m not going to last much longer, hermosa, not when you put on a show like this.”

“I want you to fill me up, Javi,” You moaned as he squeezed his fingers into your hips, not letting up on his pace, “Cum inside me please.”

It was moments later that a string of expletives fell from his mouth as he did exactly as you’d asked, pumping his cum inside your pussy whilst his fingers left bruises on your hips. You slowly lifted your hips off him, looking down as his cum dripped from you before collapsing on the bed next to him.

Once he’d caught his breath, he slowly stood from the bed and walked to the small bathroom at the end of your room. You could hear the tap running and then he was back with your warm washcloth, delicately cleaning you up before fishing his cigarettes from his jeans.

This was usually the moment he’d throw his clothes back on and leave wordlessly, but he settled himself on the bed, lighting the cigarette between his lips.

“Can I stay tonight?” He asked quietly.

“You want to stay?” You replied, a tone of surprise in your voice, “Who are you and what have you done with the real Javier Peña?” He let out a soft chuckle, “Hermosa, I’m sorry.” He placed a warm hand on your thigh for comfort, “I’m not good at this, I’ve never been good at this, and I’m sorry for how I treated you,” He sighed, taking a drag of his smoke, “I want to do right by you, I care about you, but I’m not quite sure how to do it.”

You placed one of your hands on top of his and squeezed, “It’s okay, I’m not very good at this either,” You reassured, “But maybe we can figure it out together?”

He turned and smiled at you, “I’d like that.”

#panda writes prompts #javier pena #narcos #Pedro pascal #javier pena fic #javier pena fan fic #javier pena fanfiction #javier pena x you #javier pena x reader #javier pena x female reader #javier pena x f!reader #javier pena smut #javier pena Pedro pascal #JP drabbles

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imyourrjoy · 9 months

Text

The power held over me

Summary: A new duo arrives in jackson after being found in the snow, praying

Warnings : DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT!!!!!!!, abusive parents, toxic religion, toxic people all around, misogyny, hitting, threats, self dought,fear , stop here if it's too much the series will just get darker

Word count : 2.6k

Paring : dark!Joel Miller x pastors daughter!afab!reader

Part 1 / ?????

Masterlist

A/n : she's dark, very dark. This is your last waring, btw. And thanks so much to my pokie wookie bear @xoxo-honeyy for helping me revisit and figure most of it out she's amazing not only for that but also putting up with my dyslexic ass, ily pokie 💋 and give her love as well.

The cold was the worst, especially in a dress. Your dad gave you his jacket but you were still freezing despite the extra protection. The two of you had somehow ended up near a lake, Your father said he could hear a dam nearby, you didn’t know what a dam was, but apparently, it meant that people were near since it's on that means people near and we should be careful and should pray before we continue to pray that God keeps us safe for another day.

You kneeled down on the dense snow. Your legs against the snow made you feel even colder, but your father said to thank Jesus under all circumstances and not to complain in his name.

Your father started the prayer in a loud, confident voice, “Dear heavenly father, we kneel here to ask you for guidance and appreciation to ask for help as you guide us on your path and lead us to safety and not shen ways of harm, amen.”

Bringing your hands to a prayer position you continued praying hoping the cold would go away.

“Hands up”

Your eyes flew open and you saw your father being held at gunpoint, people on horses, and dogs barking. You almost screamed in fear. Were they raiders?, slavers?, or worse were they sinners?

“She said hands up.” Another voice barked at you.

You looked at your dad and put your hands up. The people looked warm physically and emotionally, you felt jealous of them, you tried to will the jealousy away but nothing was working. You repeated the prayer in your head, I am sorry, God, I am not jealous. I am grateful for your gifts. The people then started talking to one another.

“Send out the dog and make sure they're not bit”

“We can assure you we aren't. We are children of God just like you all”

The dogs barked and sniffed us. Then, a different member of the group walked up to us getting off of their horse, and they walked right up to you.

“Stand up, you poor thing, no pants in this weather.”

The brown-haired woman tied her jacket around your legs.

“Thank you,” You replied.

“Don’t touch her,” Your father stood up, but the lady just ignored him.

“Lower the guns. We should take them into town the get some real clothes,” The brown-haired woman seemed to be in charge which seemed odd, you thought men were the ones who were supposed to lead?

Town? You’d only heard stories about places like that. Your father told you that when your mother was alive before the devil took her for being a sinner, that's when you all lived in a little house near the water, a large lake more specifically.

“She is in more than enough clothes”

The lady shot your father a scathing look, “Tommy ride with him and take his backpack. I’ll take the girl.”

The man, Tommy, took your father towards his horse, and the lady took you to hers. When you started the long journey, you were in awe of the surroundings, but nothing could compare to the smell. The smell of fresh food, fire, and the snow falling you were utterly captured by it. When you see large wooden gates and lots of people with guns, you think to yourself i'll pray for them.

"Welcome to Jackson,"

She said as the gates opened, she'd never seen anything like that. it was a town where the stories were true? We rode in, and she helped me off the horse. You were a little worried you hadn't seen my Dad since he got on Tommy’s horse.

"He's fine. Tommy's just gonna show him around while I get you some clothes. What's your name?"

she gave her a smile of relief.

You gave them your name and they smiled warmly

She started walking and you followed her into a shop like building full of clothes she looked at some jeans and before she could hold them up you interrupted her,

"I can't wear pants."

She almost laughed.

"And why is that?"

"It's a sin,"

She scoffed.

"God would rather you live than freeze."

She handed me a pair of jeans``.” you were shocked someone would ever say his name like that.

"But my D-"

"Go change,"

She cut me off and looked for a top, a simple sweater. You were so scared you were gonna go to Hell if she put on these pants. You'll have to pray for hours for God to forgive you.

"You can change there, and trust me, you won't die over pants."

"it's a sin,"

"Honey, trust me, you're not gonna die,"

You took a deep breath and walked into the changing room. You wanted to cry. You were gonna die for this, burn in Hell for eternity, and be with those monsters. You took off the layers and layers of jackets and a dress. The tears started flowing as you put on the jeans. You felt like you had committed the worst crime in the world, and you started begging for forgiveness as you changed.

You started mumbling quickly under your breath, "Dear heavenly father, I am a sinner, and many have sinned by your grace. She prays for my and others' forgiveness. Have mercy on me, your faithful servant of God, according to your faith and love. "

You put on the top, “.” wiped your tears, and walked out of the changing room. When you came out, she the lady had a pink jacket.

"Here she'll keep you warm, and the color suits you."

She was right. The color did suit you.

"Thanks."

"Put it on, let's make sure it fits, and after I'll show you around town."

You put on the jacket and zipped it up. As We walked out, you kept your head low. You shouldn't look at other people if you are in the midst of sin. At least, that's what dad says. She showed me the canteen, a woodworking shop, and even a school. Then you saw my dad and the man, you ran up to them.

"Dad!"

You threw yourself at him and he caught me pulling me into a big hug

"Oh my love, it's ok. You’re safe, God has found us home at last,"

You smiled and saw Tommy go up to maria

"Dad, we need to find a place to pray."

You were so ashamed of the pants, and it seemed like my dad started getting angry.

"We will. They have a church we shall go there and pray for forgiveness and pray you won't become a monster like the rest of the sinners in the world, my love,"

Maria and Tommy walked back up to you and you're dad.

"Well, before we bring you guys to your lodging, we need to talk about the rules, and you all look parched. Let's go to the canteen and get some food?" Tommy said.

my dad nodded in agreement as we all started making our way to the canteen. The closer we got, the more the scent of freshly cooked food invaded your senses, it was so much different from the old canned beans we usually had. We walked into the canteen. It was made of beautiful wood, lights hanging from the ceiling, people giving out plates of food, and others eating it was beautiful.

"Here, I'll take the young lady to get some food. y’all can find a place to sit,"

Tommy walked me to the line of the canteen

"We have rabbit or sheep today, which would you like?"

"Sheep, rabbits are too cute to eat."

Tommy laughed and got two plates and started putting sheep on both.

"So I hear your names y/n is that correct?"

"Yes."

He started putting vegetables onto the plates.

"And your dad is a preacher or just a very devoted man of God?"

she thought that was a dumb question, he's a pastor he told me he was dressed like a pastor. it made you laugh.

"A pastor, of course,"

We moved over to get drinks for you and your father, but before Tommy could grab the pitcher of water you weren't sure what it was sense it wasn't water colored more like mud you're not sure.a girl younger than me grabbed you were more shocked she had pants you hadn't thought of it but a lot of girls here wear pants she should pray for them

"Excuse me,"

She filled up her glass as Tommy protested, “Ellie”

she smiled as she left

"Sorry about her, she's my brother's kid, she's very outgoing, let's say."

"She's fine, but I am worried about the number of women in pants I'll have in my prayers. Does this place allow sinning?or something?" Your voice was filled with concern.

He continued to fill up the cups and looked confused”." That's one way of looking at it for now. Let's just get you both fed,"

We all sat down at the table. You've never eaten so fast, and that water,which was apparently sweet tea, you think too yourself it's probably your new favorite thing. Dad kept telling me to slow down, but you couldn't. You were so hungry and happy to eat something real.

"So, Maria told me you have a multi-faith church?" Your dad asked as he finished eating and scraped the leftovers onto your plate.

Maria replied in a calming tone, "Yes and you’re a preacher, so I’m assuming you would like to have a mass of some sort, which is fine with me and with the council, but first we need to go over the rules the whole reason we came here"

At the mention of rules, you stopped eating and started listening.

"All able-bodied people over the age of 18 unless, unable to due to their health, a disability or lack of survival skills are required to patrol . We rotate every week, two people are in a group. We classify ourselves as a commune which means we all share everything, nothing belongs to just one person, we all respect one another. As well, pitch in and have jobs based on what skills we have or what we're good at. Understand?"

You noticed your dad wasn't too fond of the rules, but he both nodded in agreement.

"So how old is your daughter?" Tommy inquired.

Your dad sighed, "Around 19, we don't know specifically, but she was born about a year after the outbreak. My wife at the time had just gotten pregnant,"

You kept my head down, you missed your mom a lot, she wasn't like my dad she loved God and they taught me to love Him but she liked to tell me about my room shen the town, teach me to read and write she hated that she was a sinner as dad says she didn't believe enough you remember the verse we read for her after she died “For the wages of sin she's dead”. Dad says she wasn't devoted enough.

"Joy, how do you make a fire?"

Tommy asked me the question, and you laughed,"My dad makes those they aren't ladylike"

You doesn't know why he looked taken back. You're a woman. You're supposed to cook,look pretty for your husband and put God above all.

"Joy, you see that girl over there,"

Marshea pointed to a group of girls, including the one who took the pitcher, you nodded."How about you introduce yourself? Make some friends while Tommy and she talk to your dad."

You smiled and walked up to the girls. They all had tea and some food. They all wore pants as well. Before she could say anything a dark-hashered girl spoke

"New to Jackson?"

she nodded

"No way, hey”

The girl from earlier hit my shoulder playfully

"Well I’m Ellie welcome. To my humble abode, take a seat”, you took a seat next to her

"So how'd you find Jackson?” Ellie questions and then thinks for a second, “or did the patrolman find you?

" Well, my father and I just keep moving and, apparently, have traveled throughout. for my whole life moving looking for the place God wants us. And we saw the dam which is when my dad said we should start praying for people or a town, that’s what it’s called right?"

Ellshee immediately responded, chuckling a bit, “Gosh, aren’t you ancient.”

The girl, Ellshee, laughed louder, and it got to your head. Maybe she’s just not used to someone like you?. Maybe it's because you didn't know what town is was?. Either way, it, didn't feel good.

"Ellie, don't be mean" The gruff and slightly hoarse voice came from behind me.

You quickly turned my head to see an older man with graying hair with brown spots sprinkled throughout it, There were also prominent scars on his nose and temple, To say the least, the man looked frightening

"Oh come on"

Ellie protested but the man shushed her.

"Y’ know Ellie, she could probably teach you a thing or two, a girl like her shes a woman of God." He sent a sly wink towards you

He took a seat across from us and Ellie rolled her eyes, "Hi there hon I'm m Joel and this here is my daughter, Ellie don't mind her she's a bit rough around the edges"

"I am not"

she laughed at the little bantering and you got asked the same basic questions before Maria walked up to us,

"she see you've met Tommy's brother,” there was a slight frown on her face,

“come on it's time to see your new home"

You waved goodbye to the pasher and met up with Tommy and my dad again. We all started walking through the town , towards an a cute little house with a small porch and yellow panels.

"The heat, water, and electricity are on and Father you can't wait to see what your Sunday mass is like don't be afraid to reach out if you need anything."

Tommy gave my dad the keys and they walked away after saying goodbye for the night. The house was the same as the rest but it had some personality. It was dusty but rustic. It had two bedrooms and one bathroom, a kitchen that worked a couch, and TV that wasn't of any use but still, it was so nice everything was until my dad looked at me up and down.

"Why the pants? Is my daughter a monster, a sshenner, unfaithful to her lord"

You looked down and the floor,

"Marshea told me that she wouldn't burn and that shet was prac-"

Before you could finish your sentence my father hit me across the face

"Practical your put practicality over your lord and savor????"

Cold dread washed over your body.

"No Dad i-"

He hit me again making me fall to the floor, then he grabbed a fistful of my hasher

"Tomorrow you're getting rid of those pants, if i see them again i'll see to it that God knows of every sin that my child has committed and that my prayers for her forgiveness for her not to become those monsters were all for nothing as her love for him was fake"

You started crying once my dad let me go. He walked into one of the bedrooms while you sat there crying until finally making my way to bed.

You got on your knees and started your nightly prayers you needed to pray for myself, my Father, and God

You brought your hands together

"Dear heavenly father, thank you for your bountiful love and sacrifice. Thank you for leading me and my father to Jackson. I am sorry I have committed the sin of wearing pants. she shall never do it again. My lord, your Bible is the truth, and I am your faithful servant. I pray for my forgiveness as well as the forgiveness of the woman shen Jackson also guilty of this crime. I pray for my mother that though she's a sinner, you forgive her shen the afterlife, and may the devil have mercy on her. And lastly, I pray for my father. I pray that he stays healthy and bountiful. Praise the Lord as he watches over us in our sleep amen."

#tlou #jose pedro balmaceda pascal #joel miller #pedro pascal #dark!joel #dark!joel miller #pastors daughter! x joel miller #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #tlou hbo #dark fic #fan fiction #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x y/n #tlou show #joel miller x reader

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headkiss · 1 year

Note

hihi!!! back w more joel :)

could i req maybe something like a reunion in jackson?

lots of love!!!

hiii yes you can!!! tysm for requesting :D | 0.9k fluff reunion <3

You’d never want to complain about life in Jackson. Sure, it’s dull and repetitive, lonely for someone like you who’d shown up all alone and somehow stayed that way. But, it’s as safe as can be, with warm, running water and food in your stomach.

So, no, you’d never want to complain about Jackson even when you constantly feel like you're missing something, someone.

The people kept their distance from you at first, but you’ve since learned that they’re like that every time someone new shows up. They need time to adjust, to accept, to trust most of all. Now, they’re friendly and kind, always offering a ‘hello’ when you walk by.

Still, you feel alone no matter how many people know your name. You’re still walking into an empty house every night, still holding out for someone to walk into your life and stay there.

Unlikely, in these times.

The only real friend you have in Jackson is Tommy, and considering you’d known him pre-outbreak, you technically haven’t made any new friends.

Having Tommy around is a bittersweet. It’s incredible to have found him again, feels even better to have someone who knows the best version of yourself, the one that existed before the world went to absolute shit.

On the other hand, he’s a constant reminder of what’s been lost. Uncle to Sarah, who you can’t believe is gone, even after all these years. Brother to a man you haven’t stopped loving or hoping to find no matter how hard you try.

It’s impossible not to think about Joel when you’re with Tommy. The eye color they share, the accent. It’s nearly been a year since you ended up in Jackson and you still aren’t used to it.

You’ve probably dreamt Joel up thousands of times by now, imagined his voice even more.

This time, you’re carrying a box of stock into the bar when you think you hear it. The drawl of his voice, the tone you’d recognize anywhere. It sounds more real than ever. You’re losing it.

It’s a shout of Tommy’s name that has your head snapping over because there’s no way you could make that up. It was too real. And there he is.

Joel fucking Miller hopping off a horse and hugging his brother mere feet away from you.

Your heart’s racing faster and faster, the beat ringing in your ears. You blink tightly, again and again to make sure you aren’t daydreaming. Joel’s still there when you open your eyes. The box slips out of your hands onto the ground with a thud.

Joel looks over at the noise, and his breath gets stuck in his throat.

“Holy shit,” he murmurs, pulling away from his brother.

Tommy follows Joel’s line of sight and smiles, “I was just gonna tell you…”

“Joel?” You take a couple of steps forward, almost shy, like you’re not sure if he even remembers you.

Hearing you say his name again after so long feels too good to be true, but here he is, and here you are. In Jackson, of all places. Joel’s spent every day since the outbreak began building up walls, a defense around his heart. And yet, one word from your mouth and they crumble in an instant.

“Sweetheart?” He says. Though he knows Ellie is probably making some disgusted face behind him, Joel can’t bring himself to regret saying it.

“Oh my god,” you say.

You can’t stand there, away from him, any longer. You rush forward and throw your arms around his neck, and he’s just as eager, wrapping his arms tightly around your waist. He feels solid, his shoulders broader with time, his hair grayer, but it’s him.

His arms have been around you countless times, but nothing has ever felt as good as this.

Joel squeezes his eyes shut and buries his face in your neck, like he’s hiding from everyone else and trying to get as close as possible to you.

“Fuck, I thought I lost you,” he says into your skin. So quiet only you could hear him.

“Not a single day has gone by where I haven’t thought of you, Joel.”

It’s like everyone else has faded away, and though they’re definitely staring, you can’t feel a single pair of eyes on you. All you feel is him. The relief of having him back, the immediate comfort, the rush of emotion and the swell of your heart.

Joel pulls back just far enough to see your face, and his hands move up to cup your cheeks. They’re calloused and rough, but his touch is nothing but soft and gentle.

“I fucking missed you, sweetheart.”

You pull his head down so that his forehead is pressed against yours. “I missed you, too.”

Joel’s changed, and so have you. Years of an apocalypse will do that to a person, make you tougher, colder. But at this moment, you’re the same two people you’ve always been. The same two people who love each other, who spent years learning every little detail about each other.

Because of that, Joel kisses you. It’s soft, and it’s quick, but it’s more than you could ever ask for.

Then, reminding you that you, in fact, aren’t alone, there’s a girl’s voice, “hey, how long is this gonna take ‘cause I’m fucking starving.”

Joel sighs, but there’s a fondness in his eyes you’d never miss.

“That’s Ellie,” he tells you.

“Hi, Ellie,” you wave sheepishly at her.

“Hi, sweetheart,” she says, and you laugh, covering your face with your hands. Beside you, Joel sighs again and sends Ellie a look.

Even hours later, sitting in the dining hall with Joel and Ellie, you can't stop pinching yourself, convinced you’re dreaming.

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lucimarinee · 1 month

Text

Pushover | dbf!Joel x f!Reader

Pairing: dbf!Joel x f!Reader

Summary: God knows you were born either with a spine made out of bubble wrap, or just spineless entirely, it's honestly kind of sad. It bothers you, of course, how everyone else seems to know that too. Quiet, pliable and unconfrontational, you were raised to occupy the least amount of space possible, and be out of the way most, if not all, of the time, and that's not really the recipe for an assertive, self-assured woman, now, is it? No, it's not, and you are painfully aware of that. And you become even more aware of that when you go back to Texas to visit your estranged dad, on your summer break from a college course you don't really want to pursue, to spend what was supposed to be a time of relaxation surrounded by people that seem to think it's funny to push your buttons, it annoys you to no end. But no one seems to get on your nerves more than that asshole your father calls his "best friend", Joel Miller, one of those old school kinds of men who have an irreverent attitude, a bite to their sense of humor, perceptive eyes, an unwavering voice to declare his will, and a penchant for provoking you.

Warnings: NO OUTBREAK, age gap (Joel is in his late-forties/early-fifties, reader is in her early twenties), praise kink, annoyance as foreplay /hj, fingering.

Word Count: 14,756

a/n: this was posted on ao3 first, you can find it here, but I thought that I should use my Tumblr too. This one-shot has a funny story, that being I woke up in the dead of night to write it because I "dreamed about it" when I was half asleep, I like to joke that I was possessed, I didn't stop writing until it was posted. Anyway, my first Tumblr post in this style, I hope you enjoy it :).

__________________________________________________________

You had a feeling the day was going to go badly, or at least less than ideal, but it's getting a bit too much, now.

It was just a combination of small things piling up on you.

It started in your plane, you had just boarded, barely even sat down, and a woman approached you with an attitude that reeked of veiled aggressiveness, asking you if "you'd be so kind to change seats" with her, so she could sit next to her husband. Unsure if it was the pressure of her gaze on you, or just the fact you're not very good at saying "no" , you obliged, moving from your nice window seat at the front of the plane — that you chose and paid for specifically —, to a middle seat further back.

No big deal, you thought, it was just a couple wanting to sit together, sure, they should have planned their trip better and booked their seats properly, like you did, but it would be, at the very least, unpolite if you said no. What reason did you have to deny her request, after all? "No, ma'am, I paid for this seat, I'd like to stay here" ? Sounds selfish, and you're not selfish.

Of course, the change to an uncomfortable seat, squished between two strangers, made the trip a lot longer, but eventually you landed, and it was all over. Until you heard there was a mishap with the luggage, so your baggage would be delayed, making you have to wait for God knows how long for the airline to get their shit together. Still, you sighed and nodded, there was no need to complain and go on a tirade about costumer's rights, gross neglect and incompetence on the part of the company, there were people doing that already, so you didn't have to join the misery party, you just had to wait.

You were tired, hungry, sore, and just wanted to rest, let this day be over. You just got back home — well, "home" — for summer break.

Coming back to Texas on any circumstance was a fucking chore, and it didn't help you felt obligated to, either. You were just fine out of state, as fine as you can be while pursuing a degree you didn't want, putting effort and energy on a thing your heart wasn't set on, but at least you were some place else , some place other than Austin, where you could let yourself be a little more. You were planning on going on a trip to somewhere nice, you had been saving a bit of money from your internship and side gigs with the intent of treating yourself — for once —, but your father had other plans.

He got in touch with you a few months ago, going on a rant about how you don't call or get in touch at all anymore, how you've been growing distant ever since you moved out to study, forgetting that you had a father that did everything for you, gave everything to you, that it was an ungrateful look, and how it didn't suit you.

It was his own special way of saying he missed you, and wanted you to visit.

Easy to say, you thought it was best to smooth out the situation and appease him by promising to come back on summer break, basically ruining your own plans because daddy sent you a strong worded text.

What a joke, you don't want to be there.

Another sigh leaves you, this one slightly more exasperated than the last. You hate that weather, you can feel that awful hot, humid air even when surrounded by the airport's heavy-duty air conditioning, the uncovered skin of your arms feels chilly, but it's like an uncomfortable, stuffy bubble of hot air hugs you without your permission, the phantom feeling of it makes you feel like a kid again, and you don't like it.

Some more minutes pass by, you sit down on a chair with a cold backrest after having filled a form at the airline's desk and leave it at that, swallowing back your annoyance and hoping for the best, and the best case scenario was just that your bag was misplaced in another flight, and would be hopefully arriving soon, worst case scenario, they lost the damn thing, and then — just then — it would be time to get openly upset.

But you hope it won't come to that.

"Hey." a gravely voice calls loud and clear beside you, "I thought I recognized ya."

You turn to look, and have to make a physical effort not to groan and keep yourself from making a face. God fucking damn it, it's Joel fucking Miller. He looks just like you remember him from, you don't know, a couple of years ago, from the last time you dropped by on vacation, the same rugged appearance, rough around the edges, with that same annoying, rustic charm, a bit different, though.

His hair was a bit longer, the few gray hairs you remember had grown into proper gray locks, sprinkling his head here and there, same with the beard, fuller, grayer, but somehow softer looking. But that was it for the differences, he still had the same direct and piercing eyes, like he had an aim that never missed its target, and, much to your chagrin, that same infuriating grin that you never quite understood what it meant, despite him always having it on his lips every time you were around.

"Hi." you say, getting up from your seat just out of politeness, you weren't on a hug or even a handshake basis, so you just stood there, awkwardly, stuffing your hands in your pockets like you had no idea what to do with them, "What are you doing here?"

"Nice to see you, too, doll." he huffed a little chuckle, and had it been any other person, you would have blushed a few shades redder than his flannel shirt and apologized for your lack of respect, but it was just Joel, he seemed to enjoy being aggravating like that with you, "It's been a while hasn't it? What? Couple o' years?"

Fair enough, you muster a small diplomatic smile and nod, he's right, it had been a hot minute, but if it were up to you, it would have been even longer. Joel wore a pair of jeans and a flannel that you swear you've seen him wear before, it rings so familiar in your head, like the world's most irritating alarm clock, he's a physical, walking reminder that you're back in Texas, because he's always around you whenever you're there, courtesy of your father.

The two of them are friends, and have been for the longest time, ever since you were a tween, not that you can understand why, exactly, and for once it wasn't Joel's fault, it was your father's. It just didn't make sense that your father had friends, let alone in someone like Joel, you couldn't understand for the life of you what they had in common, and how the fuck did they meet and bond. Maybe you just didn't think of your father as someone pleasant enough to befriend or keep company, in fact, you sure don't, that's why you've been avoiding coming back for as long as you did.

But he's older, so is your dad, and maybe that's why the two of them clicked, and started doing whatever they do when they're together, you're sure they must have gone out to a bar and done things old men do.

"Yeah, it really has, huh?" you say back, looking to the side, as if it was embarrassing to even make eye contact for longer than a few seconds, "It's good to see you, though, Mr. Miller."

"Mm, don't you start with the mister thing." he raised an eyebrow, still looking at you, it made your neck burn, you weren't sure why, maybe just out of awkwardness, you never really knew how to act around him, especially not alone, and he always had such an intense stare, "Makes me sound old."

"Okay then, Mr. Miller." you can't help a little, shy grin, the kind that doesn't last for long.

He looked a bit amused, if anything, not in the same way he had back when you were in high school, it wasn't so much as the cockiness that seemed to radiate off him, he just seemed genuinely impressed with you, like he figured your insistence on being respectful to your elders was your own little way of standing up for yourself, and he didn't seem to want to fight that.

"As for your question," he continues, ignoring your teasing, "I spoke to your old man earlier, he said you'd be arriving today, but that something came up at his work, and he wouldn't be able to come and pick you up, so I offered myself to fetch ya, seemed rude to let you get a taxi or something after coming home after so long, figured I'd come to give ya a proper Texan welcome."

Oh.

He must have noticed your change in expression, your polite smile faltered to give place to a confused, if not hurt, grimace, his face mimicked yours in an involuntary display of empathy, you see his strong brows knitting together like he's trying to read you and figure out what was wrong, and how to fix it.

"Oh, I..." you hesitate, you're thinking lots of things, all of a sudden, but you've always struggled to put your feelings and thoughts into words, "Sorry, I... I'm just a bit surprised. He didn't tell me anything about being held back."

You feel stupid, hadn't Joel come up to the airport and found you, you'd have been waiting for your father to show up until you realized he wouldn't come. You pick up your phone from your back pocket to check if maybe you missed a text or a phone call, but no, there was nothing, the last thing you heard from your dad was him reacting to your text telling him your flight was taking off, and at what time it was supposed to arrive, with a thumbs up.

Nothing more.

You just sigh, yet again, you had an inkling feeling this vacation wasn't going to go smoothly, but this was just the cherry on top. Joel is quiet, letting you have a moment of peace to process, but he's staring, again, he doesn't even try to hide it, his eyes, a nice shade of brown, not unlike caramel, are softer than the rough exterior he keeps up, he seems sympathetic.

"It must've slipped his mind," Joel says with a shrug of his shoulder, not dismissive, just trying to soften the situation, make you feel less bad about it, not that you really cared at that point, this was just another instance of him not showing up in twenty-something years, "You know how he can be sometimes, hardworking fella, just focused on his job and doesn't think of anything else."

He's not wrong, but you'd still think a simple text wouldn't have hurt to send. You want to be angry, at the very least a bit miffed, but you can't muster that, instead, it's just resignation and frustration that makes you feel heavy and tired, it's hard to be mad, for some reason. You never had much practice.

"Thanks, I appreciate it." you force yourself to say, even if it sounds halfhearted and a little defeated.

"You don't sound very thrilled." he snorts a little, it sounds playful, he's not being rude, just lightheartedly ribbing you.

"Sorry, I just, uhm..." you swallow and bite down a sigh, you know exactly what's going on, he doesn't need to know, "It's fine."

You weren't about to get emotional over being slighted by your own dad in front of Joel, even if you're pretty sure he was fully aware of the dynamic between the two of you.

"Well, I'm here." the man declared, his voice always had this very firm tone of finality, you figure it's probably impossible to argue with Joel, "And I'm gonna get you home all the same, ya can talk to him then. Ready to go? Didn't bring any bags?"

It takes you an embarrassing long second to figure out what he's doing, hands on his hips, looking at and around your figure for any luggage, when he doesn't see it, he quirks a brow.

"Oh, no, I did, it's just..." you start, and you can see very clearly how he takes a long, deep breath, letting his arms go slack on his sides, and you hate when he does that, because he always does it when you let it show that something is wrong, but this time you didn't even get to explain, he must know you quite well at this point, or you just do this a lot, "There was a problem with the luggage transport, it's all been delayed, so I'm waiting on that."

His posture shifts while you speak, Joel crosses his arms in front of his chest, making him look like a solid brick wall, a strong and unyielding presence in front of you, his muscles flex and push against the fabric of the sleeves, and you don't understand why, but your neck starts burning again.

"Shit, you gotta be kiddin' me." his jaw tightens and he closes his eyes, a hand moves up to rub his temple, the wrinkles that formed on his forehead when he grimaced almost seemed to highlight the greying of his hair, he's got a very rugged look to him, but it fits, you can't say it's a bad look, "Well, alright. Have you spoken to anyone 'bout this?"

"Yeah, I filled a form at the desk just a moment ago, they told me to wait." you explain.

"'Kay, but what did they say 'bout compensation? Did they offer you anything? They owe you that, y'know that, right?" Joel goes on, almost talking over you, the man seems to be taking this issue personally, too.

"Yeah, I know that."

His brows shoot up when you don't follow that with anything else, and suddenly, all his indignation seems to turn to you, "You didn't say a thing, did ya?"

You stand there, guilty as charged, pursing your lips in a thin line, because you have nothing to say in your defense, you did mention something about compensation to the guy working at the desk, but he brushed you off with some bullshit about company policy and technicalities, and you just took it like a loser, so you guess that doesn't count.

"Fuckin' Christ, alright." Joel groans, his hand flies from his temple to his forehead, where he rubs the wrinkles in frustration, it makes you feel awful, it's always like this, especially with him, he never really tried to hide that he thinks you don't have a backbone, "I'm gonna go take care o' this. Don't you go anywhere."

"What— no, Joel, wait! " you reach out for his arm, your palm touches hard, solid muscle under the flannel sleeve, and your skin feels like it's being singed even with the protection of the fabric, "Don't make it a big deal, please, they say it must be arriving soon, it's fine—"

"Hey." he interrupts your plea with his own gruff voice, but not unkindly, in fact, you're a little shocked to see how his face is so relaxed, not a trace of anger or annoyance in his features, only calmness, "I got this."

The hand on his sleeve goes slack, but your heart starts beating like crazy once he resumes his march to the airline desk you had pointed to earlier, you trail behind him like a desperate, lost puppy, your nerves firing as you try to figure out a way to avoid a conflict or any amount of confrontation, especially on your behalf, there was no need to make a fuss over you.

It's so easy to feel small next to Joel Miller, he's a whole head, and then some, taller than you, not only is he broad, his gait and demeanor are those of a man who can take whatever the world throws at him and still be standing at the end of the day, it's kind of surprising the attendant didn't burst out laughing when you just stood next to him like an anxious shortstack, while the man comfortably leaned over the counter and spoke in his raspy voice.

He had some things to say about the matter, the two men seem to engage in some back and forth you were barely listening to, Joel would speak in his booming voice and point vaguely at you, his tone was always so resolute and determined, his words were never minced, and he always knew what to say, in a usual day, you'd judge him for being too confrontational, even abrasive, but maybe it was the combination of having him standing up for you without a moment's hesitation and the way his biceps bulged whenever he made an angry gesture or placed his hands on the desk and leaned in, that made that hot bubble of air around you feel even hotter.

"Sir, the last flight just arrived, it's likely that your luggage is on the way, you're free to check—" the man behind the desk says, and you loudly breathe out in relief.

"See, Joel, it's here, let's just grab it and go." you blurt out like your life depends on it, touching his arm again, a physical plea, trying to convince him, you can't tell if it's just your mind playing tricks on you, but the touch actually makes him pause.

"This ain't done." Joel points a finger at the workers, but his body is already turning in your direction, even if his gaze doesn't immediately follow, "But it can wait. Come on, doll, let's see if we can get ya out of this place."

It's embarrassing, it really is, it makes your heart jump to your throat, you feel the burn from earlier crawl all the way to your ears, you want to sink through the ground and disappear. There was no need for this, it was ridiculous and overkill, and it was happening all for your sake.

You don't take another good luck at him until he seats himself behind the wheel of his truck, after finally loading your long awaited suitcase in the back. You're sulking on the passenger's seat, head resting on your palm, elbow on the door, staring out the window, just waiting for him to start the damn thing and drop you off, you're just so, so done with this whole airport saga, it was complete shit, from beginning to end.

While he drives, Joel looks over at you, once, twice, maybe thrice, each time just a beat longer than the last, from your peripheral vision, you catch his jaw tightening up a bit, he seems to be contemplating something, the man knows you're moody, and it isn't like you're hiding your displeased pout, but he also knows that, if he doesn't say anything, you won't either.

"It will get sorted out." he tells you, after a moment of consideration. The man leans back comfortably as a long breath leaves him, not unlike the stress sighs you're always letting out as well, he keeps just one hand low on the wheel, and he's tapping a finger to the rhythm of the music, you have to wonder how much of that he can actually hear.

"It's fine." you say, it's your mantra. It's a half lie, "Those things happen."

"Those things aren't supposed to happen, doll." he makes a point of stressing his words, a low and firm sound coming from deep inside his chest, you see his profile from the side, and you can see him pressing his lips together, the man is probably annoyed at the way you're trying to blow it all off, he doesn't like to see people walk all over you, and he doesn't like that you let them, "There's a reason why there are policies and laws and shit like that, for this exact reason."

The way you just raise your palms in the air in a clear sign of resignation tells him that's a discussion you really don't want to have, you almost expect him to push you further, like he's always done, to probe and poke at you, and lecture you on the importance of standing up for yourself like you are a child, but by then Joel already knows he's preaching to a deaf choir, so he gives it a rest.

"I'm just sayin'..." he trails off, clearing his throat.

Your gaze focus on the scenery passing you by, trees and buildings going by so fast it almost looks like they're flying, the man next to you was always a fast driver, you remember that much from a few other times he took it upon himself to be your chauffeur throughout your life, usually when your father couldn't find the time or patience to do so.

"Thanks, anyway, I mean, for... yeah, thanks." you decide to say, still not looking at him.

You can hear him grin, that's how infuriating it is, "Don't mention it."

You just scoff, a hint of a smile making the corner of your mouth twitch upwards, that was so characteristic of him, so Joel Miller, and so stupid, "Don't act like you did nothing. That was..." you roll your eyes, but you don't notice you're shaking your head, he does, though, and that only serves to amuse him even further, "Something else, man. Thanks for... making that guy shit his pants, I guess."

You snort at your own little joke, he doesn't follow, but doesn't seem displeased, either.

The landscape is so familiar, and his presence is so familiar too, the drive is long and quiet, the kind that gives you space to breathe, but never enough to let your thoughts take a more unpleasant turn.

You try not to think about the way Joel always takes care of you, in his own little way.

"How is dad?" the question falls from your mouth.

Joel turns his head to you with a certain look in his eyes, it's quite meaningful, actually, a whole conversation happens with just the two of you making eye contact, it's silent and intense, you almost feel compelled to avert your eyes and stare at the road in front of you.

He looks like he's holding back a comment.

"Same as usual. Busy, focused." his voice is dry, no emotion to it, it's hard to tell whether he's pleased by this or not, "But we keep in touch."

It's odd that Joel seems to know more about your father's well-being than you do, but he has the decency to not say anything else about the matter, if he didn't already know from his friendship with your dad, your question made it very clear that you two don't talk much, if at all, which made this whole thing even more stupid, because you still went out of your way, postponing and cancelling plans, to accommodate a father that only seemed to get in touch with you to make you feel bad about being a "bad daughter".

"Sarah is excited to see you again," Joel added, trying to change the topic, or let you know that at least one person was actually happy with the prospect of seeing you, "When I told her I was coming to pick you up, she got real hyped about it."

That brings a smile to your face.

Sarah, Joel's daughter, was just a few months older than you, that was something else your dad and Joel had in common, besides being divorced, grumpy men in their fifties, now that you think about it. Growing up, the Millers lived close to your house, close enough for Sarah to become your playmate, you'd drop by with your father to play with her, while the adults did their own thing, and vice versa.

The memory of their house is very vivid, even after not having thought about it for the longest time, you still remember the nice hardwood floors, the narrow staircase, and how on every wall — especially in Sarah's room — there were plenty of pictures of her and her dad, on her soccer practices, after championships, or just pictures they took together for the sake of it, always very happy photos, very lively. Your room never had pictures like that.

Sarah was confident, lively and funny, pretty much everything you weren't, and still aren't, she was always more extroverted than you, carrying your whole friendship almost entirely by herself, you just tagged along, ever the dedicated follower, never the leader, it never bothered her, but it bothered you.

You were never quite able to pinpoint what exactly you felt whenever you looked at the pictures on her walls, or witnessed her and Joel interacting in a lighthearted, playful manner, or even just watched her be, but now, as an adult, you can.

It was bitterness.

You were always a very bitter child, the way she could just smile, joke, talk back at Joel, make fun of him, the way he never failed to be warm, receptive, affectionate, a perfect example of a single father raising a lovely kid on his own, the juxtaposition with your home life, which was, well, less than that, was too much sometimes, the unfairness of it all, the stark, blinding contrast that always made you feel inadequate.

Inadequate, bitter, envious .

Eventually you just stopped showing up to hang out, and you two drifted apart quietly, not unlike you and your father.

You discreetly turn your eyes to the man beside you, watching him silently drive, so relaxed, so confident, his posture said it all. Joel rested a hand on top of the wheel, and his other hand on the seat beside him, not even realizing he's drumming his fingers along the tune, not even knowing his hand was right next to your leg, if he did, would he move it, or just let it stay?

His hands looked very large and firm, his fingers were thick and strong, the back of his hand had some prominent veins that moved with every subtle motion of his arm, and you found yourself wondering about the rest of his body. You're no longer a little girl, but still, there are certain things that are better left unthought about.

"How are things goin' for ya, by the way?" he asks, voice suddenly softer, "In college, and all."

"It's fine."

There he goes again, that same long, deep breath he took at the airport, that same long, deep breath he took every time he clocked you shrugging things off, trying to put no importance into them, the look he gives you along with is loud as words, he knows you too well for you to pull that card on him.

"Don't bullshit me." he deadpans.

You're about to fire back a comment about how it's not a bullshitty thing, college really was fine, you were doing well, passing all your classes, and the courses themselves were fine, nothing to complain about, not even your colleagues or professors, you have nothing bad to say about them, or at least, that's what you like to believe, the same way you like to believe you're doing great on your own, and you like to pretend there's nothing you need or want for.

"I'm not!" you protest, he doesn't buy it, you can tell by his doubtful smirk, "I'm really not, okay? Everything is going well, my classes are good, and so are my grades, the city is pretty nice, and... and... I guess, people are fine too?"

"So what's wrong, then?"

It takes a moment for you to reply.

"I don't really want to be a lawyer, okay?" your voice is low, even shy, you can feel your face getting warmer, it's such a relief to finally tell someone this, and, if not a relief, it feels good to not have it stuck in the back of your head all the time, "I never really did. I'm just... kind of going along with it, dad wants it, and at the end of the day, I don't really mind it."

Joel considers your words carefully.

"You do know," he starts, "That to be a lawyer you'll actually have to stand up to people, for once?"

There it was, the Joel Miller you knew and didn't really like, always prodding, always trying to provoke you, always trying to rile you up, always trying to force you out of your comfort zone, to get a reaction, or at least get you to feel something.

"Oh, fuck off."

You're the one to roll your eyes, you're the one to let out an exaggerated groan, because, sure, that's how things would go with him, every time you decided to let him in and let him have a little look into your world, the world inside your head, the real, raw feelings that lay beneath the surface, and you should know that better than anyone, it's just in his nature, it's not even mean spirited, he's just an asshole.

"Nah, I'm being completely fuckin' serious right now," he says, a hint of a chuckle on his voice, but he really wasn't laughing, and, much like a father who knows exactly what he's talking about, he explains himself, "You'd be swallowed whole in a courtroom, doll, and you know that too."

He has a point, unfortunately.

"I guess. That's the kind of person I am, I suppose."

Joel shakes his head.

"Don't be stupid."

You raise a hand to him, to tell him not to patronize you.

He seems like he wants to keep going, to keep yapping about how your spine has the consistency of wet spaghetti, about how you should grow a pair already and stop acting so fucking scared all the time, that you're always hiding, you're always keeping your mouth shut, that it's not the way, but he bites his tongue and decides against it, opting for a less aggravating follow up, "What would ya like to do, then? If not law."

"I don't know. I like to paint. But I know I'm not good enough."

"Says who? Yourself?" he sounds sarcastic, and that gets you even more flustered and frustrated.

"Yes, I do, because it's true," you explain, you've told this to many other people, so many times, and none of them understood, Joel isn't going to be an exception, "And it doesn't pay really well as a career, like, at all."

"Well, now you just sound like your father."

Your cheeks flush, you can feel your entire face burning now, he has no idea how much of a dickhead he's being. You're starting to regret having told him anything about it.

"Fuck off."

You say it again, in a quiet, unintimidating way. He laughs.

"If you talked to people like you're talkin' to me right now, you'd be an okay lawyer, you know that, right?" his smile is cocky, it's so stupid, but so characteristic of him, to get under your skin like this, he was the only one that could, "Not good, but okay."

"Whatever, Joel. Shut up."

It's hard not to look at the way his neck and shoulders tense when he laughs, you catch yourself looking more than you should, he has the nerve to let his hand move towards you and he pats the top of your knee, he pats your leg twice, slowly and softly.

You surprise yourself with how your stomach seems to shrink and turn at his touch.

His fingers are firm, and you feel the strength on them, you try to ignore the tingly feeling that runs up and down your leg, like some weird, unexplainable electrical charge, and how it seems to only spread from his hand. You pretend the contact isn't affecting you, it's an easy thing to do.

He lets his hand linger there, resting on your knee for a while, and you don't fucking move a muscle, and, for once, it's a deliberate choice, you're not letting him keep his hand there, you want him to keep it there, too afraid that if you move, say something, or even breathe weird, he might just take it away from you, and you'd never forgive yourself for that.

But he interprets your stillness, and your silence — and the fact you stopped breathing for a hot second, as discomfort, and Joel promptly moves his hand from your leg, placing it back on the steering wheel, like he should, he knew you enough to know you wouldn't speak up on your discomfort, but didn't know you well enough now to know why exactly you were letting him touch you like that in the first place, but the answer is very simple:

You liked it .

And it disappoints you that he withdrew it, even though that was probably for the best.

"If you ask me," the man cleared his throat, taking it upon himself to clear the air, you couldn't say he wasn't considerate when he wanted to, "Which I know ya didn't, but that ain't gonna stop me, ya should talk to your dad about this."

You give a halfhearted laugh, not really looking at him.

"What's so funny?" Joel asks.

"It won't do anyone no good, Joel," you declare, your resigned, dejected tone seems to upset him, or maybe it's the way you sound so comfortable with that tone that upsets him, "I'm almost in my senior year, anyway, a lot of money was invested in this, and besides, he wouldn't get it."

You have nothing more to say about the topic.

Joel seems like he has plenty to say, though, like he always did, "I don't think so. In my own experience, ain't a man in this world that loves a girl more than her own father, doll."

It was meant to sound like some profound advice, like Joel always did, but to you, it felt like a blow straight to your stomach.

His experience was nothing like yours, he was nothing like your dad, far from it.

But that was a good thing.

Joel parks in front of your childhood home not much later, it's been at most two, maybe three years since you were here the last time, the sight of that house shouldn't be making you feel so uncomfortable and anxious, but it did.

He gets off the car first, while you stay stuck in your uncomfortable stupor, you only come back to reality when Joel opens your door for you, a nice, chivalrous smile — as chivalrous Joel Miller can be — on his lips, making way for you.

"Welcome home, doll."

It's so hard not to blush when he says stuff like this.

Joel carries your bags inside, even though you tell him that you can take care of them yourself. He tells you not to worry. You follow him quietly, the only sounds filling the hallway are his heavy footsteps, the clanking of keys against the wooden door, and the loud tick-tocking of the old grandfather clock, you used to be kind of scared of that clock as a little girl, it made such an intimidating, imposing noise.

The house was empty, that's what you first assumed, at least, judging by how dark and neat everything was, smelling strongly of furniture polish, not a thing out of place, it felt like it was just you and Joel, in your childhood home, you tried not to let your mind wander to what would happen if it were really just you and him.

He carried your bags so easily, he must be so strong. You know he works in construction, that's why his hands look so rough, and probably feel rough, too, you didn't get to feel it on your leg thanks to the fabric of your jeans, but you're sure of it, you can almost imagine the coarseness on your skin, the warmth, he could pick you up so easily if he wanted to—

Heavy, hurried footsteps making their way down from the second floor startle you out of your thoughts, you know those steps far too well, you grew up trying to listen for them whenever the house went too silent, or when you were laying in your bed, staring at the plaster-white ceiling of your room, trying to gauge if it was safe to get out yet, or if he was in a bad mood and you should wait.

Those are your father's footsteps.

He comes down the steps in a frenzy, and his feet almost don't respond to his brain's command to stop when he finally spots you and Joel, he seemed distracted by something on his phone.

"Oh, shit— I didn't hear you enter." he says with a slightly awkward laugh, but still unabashed, it's not directed to you, however, his attention is on his friend, "Can you believe they're not going to pay me for the overtime I had to do at the office? That's ridiculous, isn't it?"

He wasn't paying attention to you, and, for a reason you don't understand, you can't help but feel relieved and happy, not like he'd actually have any energy to spare for his daughter.

Joel shook his head, a sort of smirk on his face, the way they're standing makes them look like the best of friends, and yet, something about how Joel stuffs his hands in his pockets and shifts his body slightly to your direction tells you he's unimpressed, "Hey, now." he points at you with his head, his command is clear, and you didn't think you— or your dad — would live long enough to see someone bossing him, "I brought your princess, didn't I?"

Your dad only now notices you, his face lights up, though not really in a heartwarming way, and not in a manner that you could find even remotely appealing or warm.

It was a look and reaction of a man who just remembered he forgot to pick up his child, which, in a way, he kind of did.

"There's my baby girl," he walks up to you and engulfs you in a bear hug, it's very sudden and awkward, he's squeezing you a little too tight, you never really fit in his hugs, but you hug him back nonetheless, "How was the trip?"

"It was fine." you say.

It rolls off your tongue so easily, sounds almost so beautifully rehearsed, automatic, like an answering machine, because it really is.

Joel gives you a weird look, you're not looking at him, but you can feel it burning on your nape, like he can't seem to figure out why the fuck you'd say that, when it would take at most thirty seconds to tell your father, with enough detail, what a mess it was. Your dad was a lawyer, if someone would know how to deal with an incompetent airline who almost lost your luggage, made you wait for a long time, inconvenienced you, and wouldn't budge about compensation, that someone was your dad, why wouldn't you tell him about it? Why would you opt for the almost political, statesmanlike "fine", when it's so clear by how you said it that it wasn't, in fact, "fine"?

Your dad chuckles, letting go of you, his arms move away from your shoulders and back, "I'm glad to hear that."

He says, you smile, Joel coughs.

Then it's complete silence for a second or two. No one really knows what to say, and you almost think it's your fault for answering noncommittally, but your father speaks up, before Joel does.

"It's so good to have you back, baby girl, this house has been so empty." your father says, a weird, forced chuckle at the end, Joel is starting to see where you got your awkwardness from, "I just got home from the law firm, but it was just to grab some papers, I should be heading back, but, uhm, let's have dinner later, yeah?" he was making a move for the front door, the one you closed behind you not even a few minutes ago, his eyes going back to his phone, "Joel, you and Sarah should join us, I'm sure she—"

"Now, hang on a minute," Joel cuts in, he's quick, that man never misses a beat, "You gotta go back right now? What, can't ya stay just a few more minutes? Catch up with your girl, and whatnot?"

It was very obvious — to you — what he's trying to do, Joel Miller is tactful enough to not cut a leg off just because it's bruised, but he's still a man who likes to brute force some things, and right now, he is trying to brute force you an opportunity, because Joel Miller seems to enjoy taking things upon himself that he had no business interfering in.

Your father stops in his tracks, hand frozen on the doorknob, mid-turn, he looks confused, if anything, speechless, like he couldn't think of a single possible thing to say right now, looking between his friend and you, uninterested, unfazed.

"How's... How's college?" he eventually asks, it sounds impersonal, but Joel sighs like he just won a jackpot.

He did it, he gave you a very clear opportunity, and Joel was right there beside you to support you, you could say — even if briefly, superficially — what you were thinking, what you were feeling, just to get a word out, and then maybe talk through it over dinner, with some good father-daughter quality time, a desperately needed heart-to-heart, that's what he hoped for, that was his intention behind doing that, it had to be.

"It's fine." you say, a short answer, nothing too detailed, and a complete lie.

A look of exasperation and confusion crosses Joel's eyes.

Your father, though, smiles, that same diplomatic, polite smile you always give people, and he nods, "I'm glad to hear, dear."

You three stand still where you are, you because it's routine, your father because he's confused and awkward, and Joel because he's too fucking astonished to move a fucking muscle.

"Well, we can talk more about it when I get back." your dad declared, the door lock clicked and he was about to leave, "Dinner tonight, guys."

Your dad is out the door not long after that, it closes with a slam behind him, leaving you and Joel in a cold, stale-smelling home.

For a long time, nothing is said between the two of you.

"Alright." you mutter, almost as if to yourself, taking your bag in your hand, the wheels clattering against the floor, and Joel moves behind you, following you upstairs to your room.

"Are you— You can't be serious right now," he says, trying to mask his complete bewilderment, and doing a shit job at it, " 'It's fine' ?!"

He tries to say it like you would say, a high, mocking, shaky voice, his arms open in a defeated, almost hopeless, manner.

"Joel, not now," you tell him, walking down the long hallway, and not looking back at him, "I'll be sleeping."

"What— no."

You try closing the door to your room, but it slams loudly on Joel's open palm with a lot of force, you're pretty sure you didn't close it that hard, that was his doing, you still can't help, though, to feel more worried about your door than about his hand. He pushed it wide open again, towering on your door frame, but didn't cross the threshold, you felt weirdly trapped, your bag and your body feel heavy, you set the luggage down.

Joel's expression is unlike any other you've ever seen, and the look in his eyes is so intense, full of indignation, your knees wobble a bit under his scrutiny, you hate yourself for that, you don't want him to notice that, he shouldn't be seeing you so affected.

"Y'know, I used to think you were just a very weird kid," he starts, Joel sounds legitimately, personally offended, his outrage is palpable, it's like he can't barely keep it in, but it's trying to so very hard, "Just— painfully shy, didn't know how to talk to no one, didn't really talk at all, went along with everything, and everything was fine, 'cause that's what you always said, all the fuckin' time, and I really thought it was, for the longest time."

"Joel—"

"No." his tone leaves no room for discussion, his expression hard, but when you immediately shut up, it almost seems to upset him more, "I really thought you'd grow out of the pushover phase, I even thought I could help it by urging you a little—"

"I'm not a pushover!" you frown, trying to sound strong and firm, but it was clear the words had no bite to them.

"Oh, bull-fucking-shit, doll, you're the biggest pushover I've ever met," he scoffs at you, still leaning against the frame of your bedroom door, "As a kid, you'd go along with whatever Sarah wanted to do, as a teen, I had to witness you going out with the most stupid looking boys I've ever had the displeasure of setting my eyes on, now you're a grown-ass pushover!"

"Why are you mad at me?" you ask, you're so fucking confused, you feel attacked, really, literally cornered by the man. On any other day, you'd be bawling your eyes out, but Jesus fucking Christ, you were so done with today, you have been bottling up so much shit you could feel your bile taint your mouth with its bitter taste, you were furious.

"I'm not mad at you, doll, I'm mad for you."

After he says that, there's a pause, he didn't mean to get into a yelling match with you, and he looked disheartened. Joel rubbed one of his big palms over his face, like he's suddenly feeling so much more tired than before.

He was such a caring man, and it makes your chest feel warm, even though his concern for you wasn't your idea of a nice conversation.

"I'm mad for you, because this sucks, girl," he says, sounding tired, he takes a deep breath, and then his voice gets more serious, lower, calmer, and you know he's getting his emotions in check, "Your dad is a good friend, though I'm starting to question how good of a father he is, if even he pushes you 'round like this, but c'mon, doll, you ain't a little girl anymore."

"Oh, shut up." you scoff, this time your tone has more venom behind it, your voice gets higher, but still doesn't come out as a scream, and your body is shaking from rage, "You don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh, don't I?" he scoffs back, but on his lips a smirk appears, fuck, he's doing it again, he's playing with you, just like he always did to urge you, to get on your nerves, to see how far he could push you until you blow up, but the only reason you never blew up was because no one would be there to pick up the pieces.

"Let us see if I don't, then," Joel continues, just his head trespasses the threshold of your room, like the rest of his body is being held back by some invisible force, he wants to provoke you, but at the same time seems to have no intention of violating your space, it was a weird mix of things, you never understood him, "You're a fine, grown woman, studying something ya don't wanna study, going places ya don't wanna go, talking to people ya don't wanna talk to, hell, doll, what else is being shoved down your throat, and you just take it without a peep? Do the guys you go out with also trample all over you?"

"Just shut up." you repeat yourself, and he smirks wider, because it's working, he can see it in how tensed your posture became, he could feel it, and the worst part is that it was true, every word of it.

"What is it that you want, huh? I ain't ever heard that combination of words come out o' your mouth, ‘I want’ , even as a kid, I have no fuckin' idea of what you really want, of what you'd ask of someone, and it's starting to look like you don't either."

"Oh, my God— I want you to shut the fuck up, Joel, and close the goddamn door! How 'bout that?!" you explode, yelling, it wasn't even a particularly high or loud voice, but your outburst was unexpected, you couldn't hold back, your anger had nowhere else to go but forward, you didn't mean to yell, but you did.

It came out of your chest with so much force you could feel your face going red from embarrassment.

He blinked.

Once, twice.

You'd have thought you broke him, the look of surprise in his face, and the silence that fell upon the two of you was unnerving, but at least you made him stop talking, at least the constant, buzzing noise in the back of your mind is no longer there, it's blissfully quiet.

"Very well." he nods decidedly, and closes the door.

Joel closes the door behind him, finally stepping into your room, the heavy lock clicks, the air feels thicker, like he's somehow managed to take the whole thing up a notch, and, to be fair, he fucking did.

"That's a good start." it sounds like praise, because it is praise, a low, rumbling sound that reverberates inside your stomach and shoots directly down between your legs.

It's the kind of voice that has no business existing outside of a bedroom, you think, his southern drawl dripping on each of the words like hot, sticky honey, and you could just fucking cry from how arousing it actually was.

He walks in further in slow, careful steps, like you're some kind of wild animal, Joel's body moves towards you, eyes fixed, never breaking the staring contest you two started.

Joel Miller's presence was already overwhelming on itself, his physical height, his build, the way he looked like he could easily snap you in half, but you've seen this man care for his daughter more times than you can remember, you've seen him go out of his way for people who couldn't stand him, his family, and most importantly, you, the kid he babysat whenever your dad just had to stay late somewhere.

He wasn't scary, quite the opposite, he was magnetic, upsettingly so.

"So, doll," Joel continues, "How's it going to be?"

His eyes are intense, his presence is so, so big, you're feeling smaller by the minute, and yet he still didn't even get that close, still didn't try to touch you, he was waiting for an answer.

"What?"

"'Cause I ain't goin' to ask again, I don't like to repeat myself," he said, the tone was softer than what the words sounded like, almost reassuring, it was so different to what you're used to, his face gets closer, you could see his beard better now, and his eyes were unbearably dark, "I ain't doin' a damn thing, unless you tell me what ya want."

What a low blow, but that's how Joel Miller was, the man never played fair.

"I can't." you tell him, voice soft and weak, but there was an undertone of rage to it, the fact that you knew exactly what you wanted to say and how, and he knew that, too, it was maddening.

He has the gall to roll his eyes and click his tongue at you, like he's annoyed at having to repeat himself for a third time, you can't believe it, and his hands come to rest on his hips, his body open, so you can clearly see, read him like a fucking open book.

"I ain't going nowhere, I ain't leaving this room, unless you say something," Joel starts again, a very deep frown between his brows, you'd even dare say that he's frustrated, and then it comes again, his voice, so low, it was nothing more than a rumble, and yet the hairs of your arm and neck are raised, you shudder, "Now, how is it gonna be, sweetheart? I'm all ears."

It was a clear invitation, he wasn't asking you again, the question had an ultimatum, and it wasn't hard to tell that this is Joel's idea of giving you the push you need to break free.

A breath you didn't realize you were holding came out shakily, a lot of pent-up emotions coming up to the surface, but Joel waited, you were the one in charge, you were the one setting the pace here.

And if there was something you knew about him, it was just how stubborn he could be, growing up with that fucking asshole pushing your damn buttons all the time taught you that much, but the intent behind his attitude was never really clear— until now. He was an asshole, but he was an asshole of his word, once you took control of the wheel, there would be no going back, but you do have a choice — which was his point all along —, you can either tell him to leave, or tell him what you really want, but you have to say it like you mean it.

"I don't want you to leave." you say, your voice is low, but that's just because you don't trust what kinds of sound could escape from your mouth if you tried to talk louder.

"Okay." Joel nods at you, his smirk is a full smile now, a proud grin on his lips, but that wasn't good enough for him, not the answer he wanted to hear, and he tells you so, "You're doing good, doll, but let's be more positive, aight? I wanna hear you say what you want ."

Fuck, you're trembling, he's close, so close to you, your sense of smell is so heightened, you think, because the scent of his cologne is the only thing you can smell in that small room of yours, the deep breath you take is not even voluntary, your body is reacting on its on, the tingling, fluttering feeling you felt through your body sets and pools in your lower tummy, it's an all too familiar sensation, the arousal is undeniable.

You got all wet just with some soft words and his smell, and you know he's noticing it, it was clear, not even in a million years would Joel miss how his proximity is affecting you, his gaze is unbearable.

You'd rather not say it, but there's no other choice, your words have to come out crystal clear, otherwise he's just going to stay there and make you wait for him, that was also part of his little game, so, for fuck's sake, you take the bull by the horns, and you take another step.

"I want you to stay." Your chest heaves with your breathing, but your tone is unmistakable, he wanted to hear your voice, so there you go, saying exactly what's on your mind, your real thoughts, the ones you wouldn't dare saying aloud.

Joel looks impressed.

"Atta girl." there's a new intensity in his gaze, the smugness and pride is still there, but you've seen that kind of look before on other men, that glint of thirst, it's the most dangerous one, "Then I'll stay, darlin'. See? Wasn't it easy?"

" No. " you find it in yourself to huff, your newfound braveness is a surprise even to you, but it's hard to be anxious and self-conscious when he's moving closer to you so decidedly, "Nothing is ever easy with you."

He tilts his head to the side briefly, a small gesture of agreement, his steps are slow, but not as calculated anymore, they're shorter now, his eyes are still locked on yours, but the tension that you felt so keenly in the beginning, that air of challenge was gone, his entire focus was now solely on you.

"Guilty as charged," Joel chuckles, a hand reaching to your cheek, and the moment his thumb makes contact with your skin, you lean into the touch, it feels cold against your burning face, and it's probably the only thing keeping you from melting completely, "But doesn't it feel good, to finally let out the truth?"

His thumb moves along the softness of your cheek, he caresses the apple of it, his eyes darting down to look at your lips, his smile gets even softer, and then he says, "To finally be honest with yourself and say what you want."

His hand slides from your cheek down to the curve of your chin, and then, he cups it with a gentleness that surprised you, but then you remembered, this was no stranger, this was Joel, and the knowledge of knowing this is the same man who has watched you grow up made something hot and sticky build up in the pit of your belly, a desire so powerful that it has your brain go all mushy, your words stuck in the back of your throat, it was a pain to get them out.

" Touch me. "

Joel Miller has no right being that attractive, he shouldn't look this good, he should not have this effect on you, he had no right on having you in such an infuriating and sudden chokehold, he wasn't even trying.

You couldn't find the words to describe exactly what you’re feeling, they were all lost in a muddle of lust, it's an unbearable, mind-numbing kind of horny that had your whole body reacting so quickly to such simple actions, it was a mix of things that were starting to make you feel out of sorts.

It's not just the arousal, nor just the fact that he's here with you, so close to you that you could feel the warmth emanating from his big body, nor even just the fact that, since you're on a roll of being honest and letting loose of your inhibitions, this was your long time crush touching you, hooking his hands below your ass to lift you up as easily as he picked up your luggage from the airport.

The yelp you let out is far from the most graceful noise you ever made, your arms shoot around his neck to steady yourself, but aside from the abrupt rising, you were never at risk of falling, his arms are so solid under your thighs, more solid than the floor that was under your feet just a few seconds ago, you feel. Your core is pressed flush against his abdomen, you can feel his body warmth, and you've never been so glad to be wearing good denim pants, otherwise you would have made a mess on him just by being held.

"No need to be scared." Joel snarks, carrying you somewhere.

"A little word of warning would've been nice, though," you say back, his nose is so close to yours, and it makes your face feel warm, even the tip of his beard tickled the side of your cheek, he smelled so nice, you really are a mess.

"Oh, sorry, princess, next time, I'll do just that, just let me put you where you want first." his drawl is the last drop, his smirk is so self-assured, he knows he's dangling a treat over your head.

Joel sets you down on your room's desk, the man sets his hands firmly on top of your thighs and unceremoniously spreads them wide, making room for his body, and your eyes are just glued to the view, looking down at the show he was putting on of how your bodies seemed to be aligned to fit so perfectly together, your imagination ran wild trying to picture just how obscenely hot it would be to watch yourself get stretched out by his cock from that angle.

You set your own hand on his chest, and you don't know if it's his cologne, or if it's him, but he smells so nice, he has a musky, earthy scent of man that had you dizzy and out of focus.

"Hey, look at me." he commanded you, lifting your chin up with his fingers, "I ain't doin' anything until ya tell me, remember? How's it gonna be, darlin'?"

"Oh, you're unbelievable..." you shake your head, your words come out riding a laugh, he had you just where he wanted, the only thing stopping you was just your clothes, but he still was dead set on making you spell it all out for him.

"C'mon, doll," Joel insists, a smirk pulling the side of his mouth up, his fingers digging deeper into your thighs, you could see the shape of his dick pressing hard against the front of his pants, his other hand moving up, ghosting over your waist and chest, "It's an easy question, ya just gotta say the word, what's the holdup?"

The holdup was your pride, and maybe some remnants of shame you felt, you were never the bold kind, or the kind that openly spoke of her sexual desires and wants, that's the kind of person you never saw yourself as, even as an adult with an active sex life, so when faced with Joel, his hard-set insistence, the challenge in his dark, lust filled eyes and his soft, deep voice presented to you, the request seemed out of character.

Your words are there, but it was so difficult to bring them to light, they're at the tip of your tongue.

"We gotta practice that assertiveness, if you're really going through law school." Joel quips, and he knows exactly what he's doing, it was just the final push of well-meaning annoyance to get you talking, because how could you put up with his teasing and mocking you and not tell him to just shut the fuck up and kiss you already.

"Shut up."

He did shut up.

Joel shut the fuck up, and closed the short distance between your lips and his.

The first brush of lips was a question, barely touching yours, but it was enough to make you let out a pathetic, expectant little sigh. The second one, you met him in the middle, unwilling to let him keep toying with you like that, finding a place for your lips between his.

Joel was kissing you.

You've been waiting for that kiss for years now.

Well, maybe two, max, but that was more than enough for you.

Growing impatient with those sweet pecks, you're the first to part your lips, you brush your tongue over his bottom lip sheepishly, but with an eagerness of a person who has been denied something she wanted for such a long time, he pulls back slightly just to spite you, but Joel is far gone at this point, too. One of his hands shoots up to grab hold of your face with such despair it almost hits you, "Sorry.", he tries to murmur, but it gets lost in your mouths as soon as the apology comes out. Lord, his tongue, though.

Joel tastes like nothing else, a combination of scotch and a very distinct, personal taste that had you salivating for more. Your teeth click, a mess of lips and tongue, his beard scratching you, and it's probably the hottest fucking thing in the whole world to feel. His breath comes out harshly through his nostrils, and he lets out a guttural groan as the hand on your face goes down, exploring your neck and shoulders, keeping you still by your throat, a cheeky thumb pressing down on the hollow that your pulse ran through, just enough to feel it.

He's showing off, that much is clear to you, by the way he's so unabashed about how his tongue is in your mouth and yours is in his, the wet sounds you make echo through the room, the quiet sighs, moans and hums he's drawing out of you, it makes you feel suddenly bashful.

"Oh, don't go shy on me now, doll, c'mon." Joel pulls back, his breath fanning hot on your lips, the thumb at your neck moves down and rubs circles on your collarbones, he's got this smug smirk on his face, you've always wanted to wipe it off.

"Jesus— shut the fuck up, Joel." it comes out so much easier now that you've got a taste of him, it was all too clear to you what you really want.

He smiles, he smiles that smile you know means he's about to be a jackass, and the look on his face was pure sin.

"Keep him out o' this, princess." his low laugh rumbles through his chest, his mouth is so close to yours, he was clearly teasing you, testing your resolve, his grip on your thigh was so hard that it had a delicious sting, it had you all aflame inside and out, the tension between you so palpable, so thick you could cut it with a knife, "Ain't nothing holy 'bout what I wanna do to ya."

The next thing that came out of your mouth was just an unintelligible whimper, the way his lips and beard pressed and rubbed against the soft skin of your throat felt heavenly, it tickled just the slightest, but it wasn't enough to make you pull away. You tipped your head to the side and offered your neck to him, giving him space to do as he pleased, and Joel, like a moth to a flame, moved quickly.

His mouth was so hot, his teeth biting a mark onto the crook of your neck, making you let out a soundless, shuddery breath, a sharp, small gasp followed after a second of realization, that's gonna leave a mark, and you have no idea how to explain that to your father, hiding it just doesn't seem like a reliable option, but then you feel it, Joel's lips curling up in a smile against your flesh, that fucking bastard , he did it on purpose.

With a kiss and a long swipe of his tongue over the bite, he appeases you, the worry and surprise wear off as he licks the salt off your skin, Joel is relentless in his pursuit, he's trying to take everything off of you, your taste, your breath, your moans and sighs, he's set out on devouring you.

"God, ya look so good, darlin'. Look at you." he murmurs into your neck, his voice is strained, the drawl he puts on the pet names so obvious, and so incredibly sexy, it has a direct link to the growing dampness that has taken over the seat of your panties, his eyes move up slowly, the appreciation he's making it very obvious that he sees you as nothing less than a feast.

You could barely take it.

"Fuck." your voice comes out strangled, a newfound boldness fills your mind, the warmth in your body making you brazen. Your hands shot down to the fly of your jeans, "Stop looking at me like that, for fuck's sake—"

The sight of your hands going for your pants had a riveting effect on Joel, he went from teasing and self-satisfied to horny in an instant, and he seemed to have forgotten everything he was doing and that idiotic fucking game he was playing with you, he watched, rapt and eager as you unbuttoned and unzipped a way for him, and he's not very patient, not right now.

Joel doesn't wait for you to try and get the damn thing off your body before he pulls — better yet, yanks you — to him by your nape for another kiss, and presses his other hand on your tummy with clear intent, sliding a tantalizing trail down, until he can stuff his fingers right down your jeans and the seat of your panties.

"Wait—" you gasp, not able to fight off his iron grip on you, but it's not like you want to, "Let me get them off—"

"Ain't no need for that." Joel denies, shaking his head slightly, the hand in the back of your neck keeps you from pulling away from him, the kiss that he plants on your lips is rough, it's bruising in the best of ways, you feel it on your cheeks, but most importantly, you feel his fingertips slide easily past the waistband of your panties, just then he allows you to lean back ever so slightly, probably with the selfish motivation of being able to touch you better — as selfish as that can be.

God , you're a mess, you can feel it as his finger first touches you, sliding down your folds, just how obscenely wet it feels, the shuddering breath you let out when his digit meets your clit is just embarrassing. You have never, ever been so horny in your life.

Joel chuckles, not mockingly, he just thinks your reactions are the most adorable fucking thing, his voice is muffled when he talks into your neck, you can barely feel it as he moves to whisper in your ear, his finger tracing lazy, tight circles over your clit, "You're so fuckin' wet, sweetheart," he groans, your fingers have a vice grip on his arms, "That for me?"

Yes, yes, yes . Fucking yes, that's all because of him, and you got like that even before that motherfucker laid a finger on you, but he didn't need to know that, the last thing Joel Miller needed was that big of an ego boost, or else you were gonna find yourself a real problem to deal with.

"Fuck—" you bite back a sob, but can't hold back how your body jolts as a reaction to his touch, those fucking little circles, the slickness makes his finger glide over your sensitive little nub, he's barely even applying pressure, just taking his time getting acquainted with how you like it, he's mapping your actions and reactions like he hasn’t known you for pretty much forever, his beard and teeth and lips still kissing and biting a hot trail from one side of your neck to the other, you'll be a mess once this is over, and you hope it never ends, "C'mon— Joel— I thought we were getting to the good part?"

He lets out an indignant little snort, the sound he makes as he nips at the hinge of your jaw is something you have no way to describe, he wants a fucking piece of you, he wants it all, the thought sends your heart fluttering, you had no way to know, but this was just the appetizer of the main course.

Joel hums, he hums into the space between your jaw and ear, his finger not leaving the top of your cunt, and it's starting to get really frustrating, you could feel a spark, something that could've become something, if only he put some actual work into it.

"Ya got somewhere to go?" he teases, "So impatient..."

"C'mon, Joel, please ..." your plea clearly has an effect, you can feel the low rumble in his chest, he can't stop himself, even though you could see the glint of something devious in his dark brown eyes, a cheeky finger moving lower, searching, rubbing down your pussy, Joel is taking his sweet, sweet time with it all," Please, I want you insi—"

His thick, rough digit easily pushes past the wet, tight rim of your opening, his fingertip sinks inside, just the barest of it, but it's enough for you to lose it for a second, his touch has a jolt shooting up your whole body, your nails digging into his shoulders, the surprised moan you let out makes your cheeks burn hotter than before, it's so different to be touched by someone else, it feels like he could do whatever he wanted to you, and he'd make you take it.

There's absolutely no way anyone else could touch you like he does.

No man in this world would ever be as good as him, it was that simple, it was a truth you knew well and true.

Joel was a force of nature, you could never understand it, not even if you tried.

Your breath catches in your throat, a sharp gasp follows his finger pressing further in, it's just so fucking good to have something filling you in, filling up that insane emptiness you were feeling just a second before, it slides in so easily, making squelching sounds as your wet cunt opens up around it, taking it all, as much as he can give it to you, sliding in and out, just to test how wet and pliant your cunt is for him.

"Oh, fuck... God, yes, yes , Joel, like that." the praise, the satisfaction that's coming from your words seem to do things to Joel, too. His body moves forward, trying to press closer to yours, his face buries deep into the crook of your neck, the scent of his hair, the scent of his cologne, the sweat he's breaking, his warm breath fanning out and spreading a hot, wet wave on your skin, you hug him for dear fucking life, if the desk under you gives in, you at least know you can hang onto him, your nails latch on the fabric of his red flannel, desperate.

"You're doin' so good, baby," you hear him speak against your throat, he kisses you there, right below your ear, the vibration of his deep voice is something you'll feel in your core, forever, it'll never go away, it'll follow you, it'll stay in your memory and will come back every time you think of him, of the moment you got fingerfucked by him on top of your desk, "So fuckin' good , look at you."

God, how are you going to forget about that? It was going to drive you crazy for days, months, years to come, just thinking about Joel praising you and fingering you at the same time was almost too much. You felt his fingers wrap around a fistful of your hair, his lips on yours again, just as he slides another finger in. Fuck, if he could keep doing that— if you two could keep that up for the rest of your break, Texas would never be so fucking awful anymore, you'd come back again every time, at every opportunity, just for him.

It's just too good, the friction, the growing moans and whines that spill from your mouth are swallowed by him, and they just seem to make him go on, go harder and deeper, a curl of his fingers hits something so right that a full-bodied shudder passes through you on a round trip, a sob wrenched from your throat. He smirks, and keeps hitting the spot over and over, until he has you squirming and bucking your hips up in his direction, grinding, riding his fingers like a desperate girl, so filthy.

"Fuck— please, Joel— god, right there—!" you hiccup, your mouth hangs open as you squeeze your eyes shut, for a moment the only sounds that can be heard are his breathing, the quiet muttered praises he showers you in that you can't quite make out right now, and that wet symphony of your pussy around his thick fingers, your voice seems to clog and get stuck on your throat, your tummy tightens up, like a coil, the pleasure so overwhelming.

One of your hands slams loudly on the wood under you, just holding on to him isn't enough anymore, the firmness of the desk provides you with just enough support to brace for what it felt like imminent impact.

"C'mon, doll," he urges you, he can feel you fluttering and clenching around his fingers, holding on to his knuckles, God, it's one of his favorite feelings now, no pussy ever felt like yours, and he didn't even get to see the damn fucking thing yet, just fingering you under your beat up jeans was more fun and satisfying than most sex he'd had as of recently, "Show me— c'mon, that's it," he speaks lowly, "I want you to cum for me, alright, sweetheart, cum for me."

Your voice breaks free in a mellow shriek, a gasp for air, a loud sigh of relief as it washes over you like a tidal wave.

"fuckJoelyesyesyesYESpleaseitfeelssofuckinggood—"

What comes out of your mouth is just a string of undecipherable, desperate, whiny moans, your whole body jerks forwards, and it almost feels like falling, but he's there right in front of you, strong as ever, more than anyone you've ever met, to hold on to you, kissing soothing patches on the little skin your t-shirt offers him, but he'll take it, he'll take everything he can get, he'll kiss you forever, if he can.

Joel only lets go of you — barely — back on the desk when your whole being relaxes from the sudden tension, you had gone slack in his arms, but that's not new. His hands come back out of the confines of your pants, and the wetness he found inside makes your thighs shiver, a faint silky, translucent trail connects you for a moment, before it's gone as quickly as it came.

God, your legs feel like jelly, you don't think you have it in you to walk, but it can't stop you from trying. What can stop you from trying, however, is the man in front of you.

"Nah, ah, slow down." he reprimands, pulling you back up before the tip of your toes could even touch the floor, though his tone isn't stern, and he has a grin on his face when he simply sticks his fingers, all coated in your arousal, inside your mouth, "Don't go runnin' off on me."

There's no energy left in you, or will, to fight him, he can call you a fucking pushover if he wants to, but you do as he clearly commanded, sucking his digits clean, eating your own release straight from his fingers.

He's pleased, with you, with your blatant display of compliance, of eagerness and how willing you were to be so goddamn dirty in a heartbeat. Joel is pleased with you.

"There's a good girl," Joel mumbles, his dark eyes fixed on yours, he looks like he's not able to take them off you, like if he blinks, he'll miss something really, really good, "Just perfect, darlin’, you’re perfect."

The words sound like a lull, his thumb moves to trace the line of your bottom lip, your eyes flutter close, and the weight of your own exhaustion presses on you. A soft smile curls his lips, it's warm and sincere, you feel like melting in a puddle at the sight, it was hard not to give into it.

"Hey..." he calls out for you, pulling you a bit closer, just so he can brush your nose with his.

You blink, a little lost, you could get so lost in him.

"Fuck, did I knock you out?" he chuckles, lovingly pulling you against him, you rest your chin on his shoulder, and let him do what he wants with your hair, run his clean hand through your locks, he's kissing the shell of your ear again.

"Maybe." Joel can hear the smile on your voice as you say it, you take in a deep breath, almost as if you didn't get enough air throughout all this, "This was... insane."

"Is that a compliment?" his laugh, so clear, and his breath tickling the side of your neck has a warmth spread on your chest.

"Absolutely." you nod, your arms come to lock around his frame, almost like a hug. It's funny, that's probably the first time you ever hugged him, "Don't get too used to it, if you don't start changing up your attitude a bit."

His response is an annoyed grunt meant only halfheartedly, you almost think it's a threat of a laugh, actually, "I'll take what I can get, then."

Joel pushes you away a little, just so he can get a good look at you, his eyes roam your current less than regal state with an almost worried glint to them, trying to gauge if you're okay, or if there was something else you needed. He's always been very attentive to details, after all, his eyes linger a bit on your hair, a little longer than what you think it should.

"So," he starts, not knowing if he should bring this up, but, well, the thought had already crossed his mind, so he just let the question come out, "Was it worth it? Using your words?"

"It... was. I liked it a lot, honestly, you— you did great, I wasn't expecting... you know."

"Uh, yes, I was not expecting it either."

A soft laugh leaves your mouth, a smile plays on your lips.

"Oh, so it wasn't a plan of yours all along? Some machination of yours?" your tease earns you a very dragged out eye roll, it takes another laugh out of you.

"What do ya think I am? Some kind of mastermind?" he scoffs, shaking his head, and looking a little bit hurt, like you'd offended him, "You know, not everythin' that I say has some kinda double meanin'. Not everyone's like that."

"No, no, I get it," you assure, patting him in the shoulder, "Not everything you say is some secret agenda."

Joel's frown and slightly pinched expression dissolves with that, a tiny sigh leaving his lips, and he takes a few steps backwards, to give you space enough to put yourself, "Think ya can fix yourself up? Take a nice shower, put on some clothes that don't smell like fuckin' Boston?"

You cock your head to the side, and look down at yourself, then at him, "What about you, though?"

"Me?" Joel seems legitimately confused for a second, until he follows your gaze down, his hard on is still there, hard as ever, straining the denim of his pants. He looks back at you, a brow raised, arms crossed, you know that posture, some stupid fucking quip is about to come out of his mouth, "Think you can take it?"

The idea has a shiver running through you, you felt the dull ache on your inner walls, even as your breathing steadied.

"I don't think you can, not right now." he says before you can get a word in, and he grins at you, it's different that his other grins he'd always give you before, but it has the same fondness, "I'll be fine, I'm a grown man, I can handle it."

He could say that all he wanted, but you still see the discomfort, the little fidgety moves he does to find a good way to position his junk.

You could do it, though. If it came to that.

"You sure?"

"I'm sure you need a fucking shower." he claps back instantly, not giving into your offer, "I made a mess all over you."

"So crude, Jesus..." you scoff, but your feet dangle under you, completely carefree, the edge of the desk is digging on to your flesh, you think it'll bruise a bit, you can feel it in your ass, it was worth it, "You kiss your daughter with that mouth?"

"Sure, all the time." Joel grins, and takes the liberty of starting to tuck in his flannel back into the hem of his jeans, "And do even worse shit to you."

"Wow, real fucking classy." your voice is laced with sarcasm, though it lacks bite, your legs sway left to right as you watch him put himself back in order. It's such a mundane task, really, and you feel a little dumb for not realizing how you pulled and tugged at him, though he doesn't seem to mind.

Silence falls over you both as he finishes putting himself back in order, it's a comfortable kind of silence, for once, but Joel is still the first one to break it.

"If ya need me to, I'll stay a bit longer until after you shower, help you put your things in place..." he's interrupted by a buzz, Joel reaches a hand to his front pocket for his phone, an iPhone half a dozen generations old, checks the screen, and stuffs it back in, unbothered, "That kind of thing."

Your brows shoot up in curiosity, he didn't even pay whatever it was on his phone half his mind, his attention never faltered from you, his offer still hangs in the air, you want him to stay, but—

"Don't you have... things to do?" you ask, genuinely curious, "I mean, someone rang you up."

"It's just Sarah textin' me, askin' if I picked you up from the airport already, because I seem to be takin’ a long time to come back." Joel explains it to you, his gaze sweeps your desk and the floor, where the little chaos your activities had brought to it was. The laptop's screen has gone dark, so it probably died, but it's the only thing he could see out of order, "Should I tell her?"

He smiles at how you laughed, the affection in his gaze makes you feel warm inside.

"Don't you dare," you reply, jumping from the desk, your knees a little wobbly, and you fall right into his arms. Joel doesn't mind holding you, keeping you close to him, you feel like the luckiest woman in the whole state, maybe in the world, "But you should go back to her, y'know? She's your daughter."

"Yeah, I didn't forget that." he seems to not have forgotten how to be sarcastic, either, "But I know she's fine, you sure you don't want me to stay."

"It's fine." you say with a shake of your head.

Joel, like you were watching an old scene from an old movie, takes that characteristic deep breath of his, the trigger seems to be your tagline, it riles him up so much, apparently. You think it's funny.

"Fine— girl, didn't we have a whole conversation about this? I had to finger more words into your vocabulary, do I have to fuck this one out of you?" his exasperation, like his smile, is soft and tender, the scowl on his face, though, it's almost intimidating, if it wasn't because you already had him all figured out.

"You can try." your words have a double meaning, a playful note, but you meant every word. You'd let him have your body if he so much as asked for it, Joel already knows that, however.

"I mean it, it's alright."

"Do you?" he presses you further, he wants to make sure you're not just saying that for the sake of it, brushing his offer off just because it could apparently inconvenience him, you forgot, for a moment, how that man was stubborn as a fucking mule.

"I do." your tone is decided, "Besides, you two will come for dinner with my dad and I, right? He invited you."

"Yeah, he did." Joel muses, a bit lost on his thoughts, "Think ya can keep your trap shut around him for dinner about this?"

"Think you can look him in the eye during dinner after this?" is your rebuttal, Joel looks a little embarrassed, a little bashful smile pulls on his mouth, his gaze flutters down, looking for something that's not on the floor, on the walls, anything to keep himself from meeting your eyes.

"Guess I'll figure it out." his hand finds your cheek, caresses the curve of your face, he sighs, a sound of longing. Joel pulls away from you, the distance already making his body ache, it's not lost on you, you kinda feel the same way.

But it's fine, it really is. You'll see him and Sarah later today, still, this is not over, whatever this is.

The man opens the door to your room, opening it so he can leave, "I'll see you later, then, doll." he says, but then he shoots you a glance of mock sternness to you, over his shoulder, "I'll still fuck the 'fine' outta you, ya hear?"

You laugh, shaking your head.

"Alright, old man."

And before he closes the door, you catch one last glance of him, for now.

You hope he does.

#joel miller #joel miller fic #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller one shot #dbf!joel #dbf!joel x reader #f!reader #pedro pascal characters #the last of us fanfiction #joel miller fanfiction #no outbreak!joel miller

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circesays · 1 year

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A little fic inspired by Jimmy’s newest Empires video and a conversation with @anachronistic-cat about said lore implications! Enjoy! (Not related to my Cursed Toy AU, btw :D)

Jimmy wrung his hands as he slowly approached the house above, anxiously scanning his surroundings and keeping up his guard. He didn’t want to do this. He didn’t want to turn to him.

(But this world and his friends have taught him that he rarely gets what he wants, and he has to lose to keep it. He still flinches when he remembers his friends, emperors and Hermits alike, surrounding him, throwing that damned potion and suddenly painpainpain and picking him up and tossing him around and forcing him to run-)

So here he is. Tiny, alone, and at the mercy of the very god that started this entire mess. He’s no toy, not really, yet he has a sinking feeling that this will not end well.

(But Fwhip had trapped him in a death loop. Fwhip has crushed him, shot him, felt joy at trapping him in one place and hurting his newest almost-deputy and friend and oh gods he hopes Scar is okay.)

“Joel!” Jimmy yelled, his voice confident and loud despite his smaller size (don’t think about that part- anything, anything else-).

“Well, well, well! If it isn’t my favorite toy sheriff! Come to play?”

And there he was. Standing at the top of the floating staircase, his wings shining silver and gold in the sunlight, and for just a moment, Jimmy remembered when Joel meant safety.

“I need your help.”

Joel smirked. “Really now?”

“Yes. Now are you going to help me or not?”

The god of lore laughed, casually making his way down the floating bits and pieces of terrain. He picked Jimmy up and held him in one hand. “Come this way, and tell me all about your little problem.”

(Hook.)

Jimmy frowned, shaking his head, but acquiesced and did not complain. He couldn’t afford to, not with his citizens and deputies at risk.

“Fwhip’s gone mad. He trapped me in a death loop, he hurt Scar, and he’s insisting that I’m not right as Sheriff anymore. I don’t…”

(He hesitated because admitting this meant weakness. Meant he couldn’t do this alone. But you’re supposed to share burdens with friends, so Jimmy mustered his strength.)

“I don’t want my citizens getting caught up in the crossfire. And being Sheriff protects my town. Will you help me stop Fwhip?”

They’ve stopped under the Eye of Stratos, the arch above gleaming in the morning sun.

Joel let Jimmy glide off his shoulder and onto the railing.

“Okay. I’ll make sure Fwhip stops. But you have to do something for me in return.”

“…what is it?”

(Line.)

Joel grins, a full-blown, feral thing, and laughs.

“Why, admit you’re a toy, of course!”

Jimmy grit his teeth and shook his head sharply.

“Absolutely not! Out of all the stupid requests- no gunpowder? Alliances?”

“All I want is for you to admit you’re a toy, Jimmy. One little sentence. “I admit that I’m a toy.” Can’t be that hard? All for your town?”

And the Sheriff… he hesitated again. Because the consequences would be dire. He could feel it, every time a new friend teased him or called him a toy.

(He knew he couldn’t come back from this one. But wouldn’t it be worth it, to make sure his friends and citizens were safe? That he was safe?)

A quiet, gentle nod. “Okay.”

(Sinker. And little did Jimmy know, but many of the emperors and Hermits were hidden around the Eye, cameras rolling and muffling giggles, Fwhip and Scar included. This was a better show that they expected! Getting Jimmy to admit he was a toy on camera!)

Jimmy carefully hopped down to the bridge, and closed his eyes. “At least promise me you’ll make sure Norman and Flick are taken care of?”

“What?” Joel replied, confused and suddenly off guard. “Why? I mean I’ll do it but I don’t get why you’re asking?”

Jimmy looked the god in the eyes and smiled.

“I, Jimmy, admit that I am a toy.”

(And there was a pause of silence before the laughter erupted, friends emerging out of hiding places and blowing up the chat. He finally said it!)

And then Jimmy started screaming.

It was a piercing sound, loud and overwhelming and painful. He’d fallen to his knees, his hands on his face, tears slipping between knuckles that were visibly changing. His wails died down slowly and painfully, punctuated by cracking and snapping.

And the others rushed to him, babbling, calling his name in fear, but it was too late.

As silence fell, Jimmy straightened up. His joints and wings were made of wood, his eyes dull and painted, his hair woolen. But the most painful part of all was his smile.

(His mouth was stitched into a smile, everlasting and never falling. After all, toys are meant to be happy!)

“Hello!”

“…Jimmy?” Fwhip whispered, horrified.

Without a beat, the Sheriff turned to face his deputy. “Ah, deputy Fwhip! Hello! I didn’t see you there!”

(Smiling, smiling, smiling, he was so cheerful, what had happened what was wrong?)

“You were screaming,” Sausage uttered numbly, unable to comprehend what was happening. It was just supposed to be a joke.

“Silly Sausage! Toys don’t scream and cry in pain,” replied the Sheriff with a chipper voice.

“Timmy, knock it off, this isn’t funny!”

“Hm? What do you mean, Grian?”

Parrot wings puffed up in agitation.

(Canary wings remained motionless and still, hanging limply off his back. Toys don’t really fly, after all. They fall with style!)

Everyone present looked at each other, unable to figure out what to do.

What had they done?

…

(I’m gonna be honest this started with just the first angsty part but I’m way too soft to leave this on an angsty open end so I added more lol. If you just wanted the angst, this is where this ends. But here’s a lil Team Rancher fluffy end thingy:)

Finally, after a long pause, yelling was heard in the distance as a newcomer flew in.

“Jimmy! Guys! Where are you?”

Tango spotted the group and swooped down to land dramatically, grinning all the while. His grin quickly faded when he took in the pale and haunted expressions on his friends’ faces.

“Huh? Guys? What’s wrong?”

“Oh hello my Rancher!”

Tango looked down to take in the scene, and his face lit up with delight. “Jimjam? What’s up with you? Why are you so small?”

“I’m a toy! I’ve always been small!”

The smile dropped. “You’ve always insisted you’re not a toy, though.”

“But I am! See?”

Jimmy went to pull at his joints and Tango lunged to stop him with a very on-brand squawk-meep sound. “Nononono no need for a demonstration!”

Tango turned to Joel.

“Fix him.”

“What? How?! How do you expect me to fix this?!”

“You got him into this mess when you said he was a toy. Tell him he’s not a toy and everything should go back to normal, right?”

And Joel clearly hesitated, because it was funny. Of course it was funny, teasing Jimmy always was!

(But his friends were now looking at him, and this was his fault, and his brother in all but blood was smiling and distant and looked dead-)

“You’re not a toy, Jimmy. I was wrong.”

And Jimmy glowed softly. But it wasn’t enough. So Sausage stepped forward with a big anxious grin.

“Yeah you’re a normal avian!”

The others began to join in.

“Sorry, Timmy.”

“Please come back.”

“You’re a great Sheriff.”

“You’re not a toy!”

With each apology, Jimmy glowed brighter and brighter, until, with a flash he was just a normal avian again. Tango giggled in delight and swooped him into his arms, princess style. Jimmy was fast asleep.

And everyone cheered.

Jimmy woke up in a soft bed, surrounded by fluff and next to someone radiating heat. Lazily, he cracked open his eyes to take in the room.

It was Tango’s room, in the Ranch. The yellow blankets and Tango’s heat protected them from the worst of the desert cold. A glance out the window told Jimmy it was early dawn.

“Tango,” he whispered, poking the grumbling netherborn. “Tango wake up.”

Tango’s eyes fluttered open, taking in Jimmy’s clear chocolate eyes before he shot awake with a whoop, startling Jimmy so badly that the avian almost launched himself off the bed with his wings.

“Jimmy! You’re awake!”

“Well yeah that’s generally what someone does in the morning- what’s going on? Last I remember I was… at Joel’s?”

Tango frowned. “You’ve been asleep for like, a whole day and a half now. You turned into a toy, remember?”

(And Jimmy does remember. He remembers screaming, trapped in the depths of his mind, watching his friends finally finally realize what they were doing is wrong and they tricked him!)

“Woah, slow down there cowboy, it’s okay now, I’m here buddy.”

And Jimmy could vaguely feel the frustrated tears rolling down his face as he clung to his soulmate and sobbed. He was finally free.

“They promised to drop the bit. Fwhip, Pix, and Joel already took down the walls, along with half of the Hermits. And Shelby left some healing potions downstairs if you needed them. They care, Jimmy, they do. I’m sorry it took so long for them to get their heads outta their butts.”

And Jimmy laughed, and Tango grinned, and it would all be okay.

#empires smp #jimmy solidarity #hermitcraft #empires smp season 2 #grian #joel smallishbeans #fwhip #tango Tek #tangotek #toy Jimmy #tw minor body horror #hurt/comfort #angst #all the angst #unrelated to my cursed toy AU

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epicfranb · 7 months

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So. Mythical Sausage and Bdubs, huh. Mythdubs. You may have heard me talking about it, or maybe you haven't, since I'm so focused on ethubs (hope you will forgive me!! >.<) But truth is, i like them so much!!! And with the mcyt rarepair nominations opening up, i need to spread some MYTHDUBS PROPAGANDA!!! So here's a little messy "essay" i wrote about them. It's pretty much just recounting Canon, but maybe in the future i will write about how i personally see them in my own fanon. I want those guys to make it at least through round 1, so!!! If you are convinced by my rambling, you could maybe nominate them for me as well… 👉👈 Please, enjoy!!!

Bdubs is a Sun God, maybe just proclaimed that by Gem, but it doesn't matter since Sausage still worships him. Bdubs first thing calls him "mythy mythy sauce sauce" and continues to call him variations of Mythy and Saucy throughout their time together. and Sausage calls him "my sweet god". he (seemingly) throws away his faith in Pearl so easily to kiss Bdubs's bed and put on his sunglasses. Kissing the bed involves jumping up to Bdubs standing on two blocks, which lands Sausage's face right into Bdubs's Minecraft crotch and everybody in the room comments on that but Sausage just KEEPS KISSING HIM HE CAN'T STOP!!! Sausage showers him in like 18 green beds and gifts him a clock, which, as you may know, is a universal symbol of love to Bdubs.

Then Bdubs asks him to see Sanctuary and literally starts living there!! Sausage immediately showers him with gifts: wings, diamonds, netherite, Bdubs jokes "if i don't stop you, you're gonna give me the whole city!" and of course Sausage goes "would you like Sanctuary as well?? :D" They discuss recording kissing ASMR videos and creep Gem out with it.

He builds a giant sun overlooking all of Sanctuary in honor of Bdubs. But also Sausage puts Joel and Pearl above Bdubs in his god tier list, and then lies when Bdubs asks him about it and says it's just an order in which he met them. Bdubs knows Sausage is lying, IT'S OBVIOUS, but he can't be angry at him, he just wants to be higher on Sausage's tier list and he asks him what he would have to do to get there. Afterwards Bdubs sees the giant sun Sausage has built for him!! And he goes "oh... Oh... You built that for me? <...> That's so sweet. Can we see it up close?" HE SOUNDS SO TOUCHED!!! But Sausage, he is A LYING BASTARD so of course he twists the truth in such a way to gain a favor from Bdubs, he tells him that he felt guilty after saying that tier list and that's why he built that sun. CAN YOU SEE THE MIND GAMES BETWEEN THEM??? Bdubs knows Sausage is lying and tries to get his loyalty, not by shaming Sausage into it but by doing something for him that would convince Sausage — which shows Bdubs's selfless nature. But Sausage KNOWS Bdubs knows he's lying, but he doesn't stop, he lies again and he twists the truth and he wants to love everyone and be loved by everyone, even if it just means more lying and more people-pleasing. They make me insane sir. Two sides of the same coin.

So, in his typical Bdubs fashion, he tries to impress Sausage by standing on magma (which is part of the giant sun build), saying that it heals him (whilst it actively hurts him) because he's the Sun God!! And also of course to make him laugh, cuz that's Bdubs's love language, right?? :D So Sausage calls the sun The Eye of Bdubs, Bdubs says he's gonna use it to watch over Sanctuary, and over Sausage, to make sure he remains loyal; and Sausage says yes, watch over me!! I need your guidance! When Bdubs shrinks, Sausage calls him the cutest god, and Bdubs asks "are you still gonna worship me, even though I'm that small?"

After this in his own episode, Bdubs complains about Sausage's tier list and claims he's going to MAKE himself number one. He builds a beautiful Sun temple in Sanctuary, and you can already see how both of these builders use BUILDING to win over each other's hearts!! BUT AT THE SAME TIME they have a little back-and-forth going, where Sausage brags about ALWAYS doing interiors, clearly mocking Bdubs, so Bdubs leaves the interior of his temple for Sausage to figure out, and "it's a difficult puzzle, with weird rooms all over the place!" And whaddya know?? Sausage delivers. It's so mossy and colorful and overgrown, it's beautiful!!

And later on, Sausage assembles this magical staff from bits and pieces that his friends have given him, including a mushroom from Bdubs. And how he starts one of his episodes standing near the sun temple, talking about how much he misses his "god daddy" Bdubs and his beautiful giant eyes, how sad he is that Bdubs is now on Hermitcraft and he can't talk to him or see him???

And then he gets sent a piece of Bdubs's mossy cloak through dimensions, and he gets a new outfit with it that he wears for like the last 10 episodes or so of his series?? And on his very last episode, he manages to see Bdubs one last time... As a hologram, but still!! And Bdubs praises him for all the heroic deeds that he's done, and tells him to always embrace the light...

Sausage's connection with nature and Bdubs's ties with plants, moss and vines? Bdubs having a rich history with jungles and Sausage's empire being in a jungle? Sausage's empire connects with sunflowers because of Pearl, but it is a fun coincidence, because i have been also connecting Bdubs with sunflowers in my mind pretty strongly!! And both of their personalities, so expressive and warm and sunny!! They're so similar aren't they? Silly, fun-loving, kind and generous, but also a little bit chaotic and wild, amazing builders who are insanely loyal to their person of choice, who can't not compliment their friends All Of The Time, who are just so full of love for everything, always willing to help, but also not hiding their thirst for blood and liking for a little bit of chaos. They fit so well together!!! They're just. Two little guys full of happiness and love, who's favorite thing is to make people laugh.

I have much more to say, but this is all for now. Bye-bye! And please nominate mythdubs for me if you're convinced o7

#mythdubs #bdubs #bdoubleo100 #mythicalsausage #mythical sausage #hermitshipping #empiresshipping #mcytshipping #life updates #jeez i feel way worse about this now than i did when i was writing this at 1 am!!! great 😊😊😊😊😊

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thelastwalkingsoul · 1 year

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The Last of Us Episode 5 time let’s gooooo

(This one’s gonna be an ouchy)

Ep 1 | Ep 2 | Ep 3 | Ep 4

- Ok yeah straight into the fucked up behaviour

- Is that sign?

- God she’s so condescendingggg

- SAM IS SO LITTLE AHHH. How old is he?

- Stop. Playing. This. SONG 😭

- Oh my god I’m a dumbass. Sam’s deaf

- HE DECORATED THEIR ROOM AH MY HEART

- Awwwwwww the paint mask I’m gonna die that’s so cute

- Not Ellie and Sam getting along already :)

- Hahaha the simultaneous denial of Joel being Ellie’s dad

- Ohhh I knew they’d do this down here ;-; brb gonna go cry

- The rules board, the painted goal ahhh it’s so faithfully recreated!

- NOT THE ISH DRAWING AHHHH

- SAVAGE STARLIGHT!!!!!!!!

- I should have figured that out by the title name

- ENDURE AND SURVIVE! AND HER LEARNING IT IN SIGN?!

- Henryyyyyyy godamn

- BUT ELLIE ACTING LIKE A KID?!

- The house sniper section haha. So weird seeing parts of the game put into the show.

- Holy shit the infected really are terrifying

- GO JOEL YOUVE GOT THIS

- THE BLOATER YESSSSSSSS OH FUCK AHHAHAHHAHAHA

- Go Ellie save themmmm

- Haha where are the people complaining about not enough infected now?

- That’s an absolute shit show LMAO

- Not them making plans to travel together

- “I’m scared of ending up alone.” ELLIEEEE

- NOT HER HELPING WITH HER BLOOD. SHES PROBABLY FAKING IT BUT STILL HOPING IT WORKS AHHH

- THEY BURIED THEM OH NO PLS

- IT WAS DONE SO WELL FUCK

- “I’m sorry” ELLIE BABY NO DONT FEEL GUILTY

Welp, that destroyed me just as much as I thought it would ;-;

#soul reacts #soul reacts tlou #the last of us #the last of us hbo #hbo the last of us #tlou\#tlou hbo #tlou show #hbo tlou #the last of us show #episode 5 #tlou spoilers

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wonderlandleighleigh · 2 years

Note

for hurt/comfort prompt: a continuation of the story of Ethan coming back from Vietnam, and him and Lenny bonding over their experiences as vets (with a side of Joel being an idiot, of course)

(I know you wanted Lenny, but this went in another direction.)

"C'mon," Joel urges. "You used to love fireworks!"

Midge takes a breath. "Joel, leave Ethan alone. If he doesn't want to go, he can stay here at the bungalow and relax."

"I just don't see why it's such a big deal," Joel complains. "What, he's too much of a hardened soldier to enjoy fireworks now?"

Ethan stares at his father for a long quiet moment, and he can tell Lenny is about to step in; to deescalate the conversation. He's so good at that. For someone who professionally stirs up shit, in his private life, Lenny Bruce is a fucking peacekeeper.

Ethan gets there first. "Fuck yourself, Pop," he says simply.

His mother pinches the bridge of her nose, Lenny settles a hand over his mouth so as not to be caught grinning, and his father looks insulted.

"Hey!" Joel cries.

"Well, that's your answer, son," Moishe says with a chuckle. "Leave the kid alone, and let's get going, or we'll miss it."

Everyone heads off except Ethan.

And his mother.

He tilts his head at her, looking curious.

She grins and shrugs. "You want me to make us some drinks and pull out the cards?"

"You're too good at poker, Ma."

"So we'll use candy instead of money," she smirks. "Like when you were little."

Ethan chuckles a little. "Yeah, okay."

And that's how they spend the evening. On the upper deck of the bungalow, sitting in the living room with the windows open, letting in a nice night breeze, playing cards and drinking vodka sodas.

"How'd it feel to tell your father to fuck himself?" Midge asks.

"So damn good," Ethan admits. "I think I've been waiting for that since my ninth birthday."

She groans. "Oy, your ninth birthday. I was hoping you had blocked that out."

"The year Pop finally took a swing at Lenny, and Uncle Noah hit Pop in the face with the silver serving tray from Bubbe Shirley's formal tea set?"

"That's the one," she huffs. "God what a mess that was."

"My friends thought it was the coolest party ever," Ethan chuckles.

"Well, a bunch of nine-year-old boys, of course they did," Midge chuckles. She sighs softly. "I am so sorry about how things have gone since you've been back."

Ethan frowns, confused. "What are you talking about?"

"I just- I feel like we haven't done enough to help you," she admits, looking worried.

"Ma." He puts his cards down and takes her hand, holding it tightly. "I have a place to live and homecooked meals. I have a job because of Susie - which wouldn't be happening if you weren't her best friend - Lenny got me an analyst - and he's in my life because of you - Ma, you have literally done everything for me. Pop is Pop and he hasn't been your responsibility since I was four. Whatever he throws at me? Whatever dumb shit comes out of his mouth? It's offset by he fact that you and Lenny and Susie, Esther and Kitty, Papa Abe and Grandma Rose, and Uncle Noah and Aunt Astrid, and Zeyde Moishe and Bubbe Shirley have my back. In this case, the one bad apple doesn't spoil the batch. I promise."

"I just worry about you," Midge admits. "I've been worrying about you since you got drafted. I worried about you while you were in basic training. I worried about you while you were gone, and now I'm worrying about you now that you're back. Because you say things sometimes that just- blow my mind."

Ethan sighs softly and squeezes her hand. "I know. I shouldn't say those things in front of you. It's not fair to make you worry that way."

"No, I want to know what happened to you, because then maybe I can help you more."

"Mama," Ethan chuckles.

"I know, I know I can't fix everything," she waves her free hand. "I just want to."

"You know how you can help me?" he asks.

"How?"

"Finish cleaning my clock and put me out of my misery," he tells her, lifting his cards and waving them.

Midge laughs and pats his hand. "You asked for it, kid."

#fic #au #tmmm #Midge Maisel #Ethan Maisel

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pennywirdo · 1 year

Text

THE LESSON

Tess Servopoulos x f!reader

warning: +18 | Tess Servopoulos, smut, mention of weapons, age difference, praise kink, dirty talk, voyeurism (a little) , use of harness(f!reader receiving) | Hope you like it! Open requests♥️

The weather was nice today, it wasn't too hot so it wasn't too tiring to work. You just wanted to go home and spend time with Tess. Joel had already gone to Bill's and sent a radio message last night, so she's definitely spent the day calm and rested. It's been six and a half months since you were *kidnapped* by them, and since then Tess hasn't gotten into fights for no reason not to affect you, even though you asked her and Joel to teach you what to do when something bad happens. And all Joel did was give you a knife, it was small compared to the ones they had. And you wouldn't dare take another hidden one. You went home after that day at work, almost dragging yourself up the stairs of the building, wanting nothing more than a shower and maybe a few kisses from Tess. You do the trick they taught you to open the door and as soon as you got it open you looked inside the house and found yourself being her target.

"What the hell are you doing?" You say locking the door and looking at the gun pointed at your head. She had a cocky smile on her face, motherfucker. With a maneuver in her hands, she turns the revolver in front of you, inviting you to take it. Your eyes widen and an ear-to-ear smile breaks out on your face. "It's mine? FUCKING COOL!!" you say picking it up and putting your finger on the trigger. She laughs at your happiness while you pretend to aim at something.

"It's empty..." she says and you look at her with a frown and a pout on your lips. "Don't fucking look at me like that, you know why..." She leans back against the table, crossing her arms. She knew she was right, she always was. Putting the gun inside the bag, you take the payment cards out of your pocket, placing them all on the table. The smell of coffee hits your nostrils and you look at her, her back to you with her hands on the counter. You go to her, clasping your hands behind her waist and reaching out to rest your chin on her shoulder, watching her hands move, sifting through the coffee grounds. A faint memory of her flashes through your head, using her fingers on your pussy. You pull away before asking.

"When are you going to teach me how to fight and hit?" You whisper looking at her face adorned with small cuts from the last discussion she had in a bar to defend you from an asshole firefly. "You gave me an empty gun, you know?" She was very protective at times, argued with you every time they got into it, but for God's sake, you were too old to take care of yourself.

"You know I can't do this right now, me and Joel already do" she looks at you out of the corner of her eye, serious as if she doesn't like the idea of you walking out of an alley alone, bleeding, just like she did several times, she would always be there for you. "I know, but Joel isn't here" you try to convince her, knowing full well that it won't work. "I can watch you do it and then I try to do the same, how about that?"

"You don't shut the fuck up, fucking amazing..." she says ironically, turns to face you and kisses you, you close your eyes feeling the kisses go down to your neck, holy shit. You would never admit aloud that you were so horny when you saw Tess fight, especially because of you. But it was too dangerous, and yet you wished you didn't have to depend on them for your safety.

"You love it" You try to retort ironically, sighing as you feel her hands squeezing your waist. A moan escapes your lips as her fingers cup your hips, turning with you and sitting you down on the counter. "Tess…" you grab the collar of her shirt, and she comes back with that smile on her face. The combination of her clothes and her teasing warming your body and you wouldn't complain about taking a cold shower, which is what you had. You laugh awkwardly, with embarrassment. "Please, I need a bath"

"Of course sweetie, sorry..." she throws her hands in the air and pulls away enough for you to leave, and before you do she takes your hand, giving you one last lingering kiss on your lips. "Can you use that one for me?" she whispers looking into your eyes, fingers running softly over the waistband of your pants. You could feel the intimacy heat up, and she hadn't done a big deal. How would you deny such a request?

"What will I get out of it?" you tease as you walk away, glaring at her putting her hands in the pants pockets, almost indignant at you for your audacity to answer her like that. "If you continue with these shitty jokes, I'll give you a few days without cum" she raises her voice after you walk into the bathroom laughing, closing the door. You knew she would never do that to you, that idea was too cruel, even for Tess.

The icy water almost washes away your desire for her, but you couldn't stop thinking about her request. 'Use that one for me' was drumming in your head as you took the box from inside the small bathroom cabinet. On one of the days you worked overtime while Joel hadn't left the QZ, Tess entered a building blocked by FEDRA and brought some things from there. She loved giving you gifts, loved seeing your expression getting something you had never seen in your life. And she loved watching you use it even more. You opened the box, finding a small collection of lace panties. Some ruined after passing through Tess's fingers. Your eyes flashed to a pale blue, fingers brushing through fabric that was so light it slipped on your skin. You'd want another one of these if she messed up.

Fully dressed in a comfortable outfit, you open the bathroom door heading towards the kitchen to eat something. Apparently, Tess had left and didn't leave a message, so you assumed she'd be back soon. And meanwhile you would eat and rest. The sofa felt much more comfortable after the day's work, and the cold food you couldn't heat tasted much better with how hungry you were. You ate quickly, thinking she would arrive any minute. You could feel the damp lace panties against her skin, already aching for her. It was almost shameful.

You hear the door being unlocked, get up and tiptoe behind her with the knife already in your hand, just like Joel taught you.

"Put that shit down, it's me" Tess's voice sounds muffled until you help unlock the door, your arms wrapping around her neck in an almost desperate hug, holding the knife at your side. "Come here baby, I brought you something" she breaks the hug, giving you a tender kiss on the lips and heading towards the bedroom, taking the knife from your hand and holding your fingers in yours.

"What?? Where did you go?" You follow her without being able to see what she was holding in her hand. "If it's food, I've already eaten." you sit on the couch, watching her put a box just like the one you had on the bed and go to the kitchen. "Oh my god, did you bring me more of them?" Her eyes widen and you stand up from the couch, watching her walk calmly towards you, running her hands over your hips.

"Shhhh, everyone will fucking hear you" she throws herself on the couch, holding your hand and pulling you to sit on her lap with one leg on either side. "Tell me what it is, at least" You ask looking into her eyes, feeling the firm hands go over your ass. "Maybe later..." she runs her fingers over your cheek, pulling you into an almost rough kiss. Her tongue passed possessively through yours, and her hands touched your body with a desire Absurd. Her kisses move down to your neck, licking your pressure point. A moan forces itself from your lips and a trickle of curiosity stirs you.

"I know it's from there, I have another like that..." you try to speak breathlessly as her hands hold your waist with pressure, now sucking your neck a little harder, completely ignoring your statement. You felt the intimacy throb, moving your hips in her lap. Your fingers go into her brown hair feeling those teeth scrape your nipple through the shirt. "I-I'm already using it" you finally say, her fingers making a go and it comes crooked on your lips over your clothes.

"Such a good girl, isn't it? So needy..." was her reply, hooking her fingers in the waistband of your shorts, pulling them down. Her mouth disengages from you, the green orbs looking down and sighing when she sees the contrast of your skin with the blue fabric . She licks her lips, looking into your eyes as her hand slips inside your shorts, over your lace panties. Your completely luscious pussy made it look like you wore nothing, you close your eyes, moaning. Her touch was almost raw on your skin, fingers sliding back and forth at your entrance, never giving you what you wanted, but enough to make your mind cloud over.

"Take the box.." her fingers stop abruptly, with a frustrated groan and rolling your eyes, you slowly lift off of her lap, feeling the arousal overtake the lace and trickle down your thigh. She was being cruel, making you wait that long. Taking the box and going back to her you were decided, if she's going to be mean to you, you would be too. You sit sideways on her lap with the box in your hands.

"Can I?" She just nods, watching you happily. Your fingers opened the box and her eyes widened with what was there. The box was small, but it fit a blindfold perfectly, something small metal, a smooth dildo, and several leather straps. You had no idea how they used half of the stuff in there, but your mouth watered and your pussy throbbed wildly just imagining it. "Tess, I-i..." You try to speak, but nothing would come out of your mouth right now. She gently pulls the box from your hands, placing it beside her.

"Has the cat got your tongue, hm?" She squeezes your inner thigh, watching you close your eyes and moan ecstatically. "Show me how much you want sweetie" she makes you stand up. Her desire for her increasing more and more. You sit on the edge of the bed across from her, watching her on the couch, fingers slowly unbuttoning her own shirt as you pull down your shorts. "Spread your legs for me, I want to see..." she drawled, your shorts fell to the floor and her eyes were now fixed on the blue panties.

"Look how wet I am Tess..." you say slyly looking at her smiling satisfied as you lift one leg. A ripple of arousal threaded through your thigh and she was mesmerized looking at your sopping pussy through the lace, you would get your revenge. "You told me to touch myself, even though I needed you..." Your fingers slowly pass from the entrance to the clit just once over the top of the panties and you moan, teasing her.

"Keep fucking quiet..." She speaks slowly in a husky voice, running her fingers through her hair, looking at you with so much desire that you could have come right there. "Nahh! Now, it's my turn..." you say putting your panties aside. She sucks in a huge amount of air seeing your bare pussy gleaming right in front of her. Your fingers run up and down to the sensitive clit to the vagina, threatening to go in and stopping as soon as she puts her hand on the box. "You'll be very upset at me if i come without you?" you tease in your lust-affected voice, hard-on and thrusting your fingers in, moaning slyly, weak eyes closing.

"Don't!" she mumbles through her teeth looking at you seriously, her hand groping the box, you moan loudly and quicken your fingers, rolling your hips into your palm and feeling the pressure build. "I-i can't, it's so fucking goood..." The wet noises on your fingers made the feeling stronger and stronger. "Need you so much, and you left me hanging ..." You was almost there, reaching the edge. Moans come hard from your lips, the deliciously strong pressure threatening to explode.

"I said Don't!" her hand roughly pulls your fingers out of you and still with your mind clouded by the apex interrupted by her, you smile biting your lips. She reached the limit. One of her hands grips your waist tightly, the other holding the one you used to touch yourself "You never shut up, huh?" Her gaze carries lust as her fingers tug at your panties, pulling instead of tearing. A moan escapes your lips, now all exposed to her. "Open your fucking mouth!" You wrap your legs around her hips, obeying immediately.

"That's it..." The green eyes fixed on you, her fingers put the blue lace panties inside your mouth, shutting you up. She lowers your thighs from her body and before you could complain she lays you on the bed, if nestling between your legs. "Be glad I didn't rip this shit" She says before attacking your neck with hickeys, biting and licking, you moaning ecstatically with your panties on mouth. She kneels on the bed and you saw now what was part of those leather straps over her clothes. It took a second to process the leather wrapping around her hips and gripping the dildo at the height of her intimacy covered by jeans.

"Such a waste, I would fuck you wearing it..." Her voice husky and the image of her wearing it was enough to make your mouth water, saliva wetting the panties and dripping out of your mouth. Your pussy throbbed without control as she straightens up, getting ready to ruin you. "So good for me, huh?..." She whispers with a satisfied smile running the tip through your completely soaked folds. It looked much bigger than you had seen it, you close your eyes , the sly moans forced out and you weren't prepared for the amount of pleasure when she thrust the tip.

"Look at you..." She murmurs in a shaky voice, moving her hips slowly and entering you every inch torturing your pussy. "Fucking pretty taking my cock..." You open your eyes weakly, unconcerned by the loud moans, all muffled as she grips your hips with both hands, her slow, punishing back-and-forth took away the last shred of your conscience. The desire to come building as you heard her heavy breaths turn to low, drawn-out moans. "Take me so fucking good... Good girl" looking at her totally enraptured, you could swear she felt like it was hers. Eyes fixed on the toy going in and out of your cunt with her brow furrowed and her lips parted. "Aw Tess..." is just what comes out of your mouth, barely audible. Her strong arms slide under your knees and she picks up speed, gripping your thighs and moving her hips in a rhythm that made her breasts bounce out from under her unbuttoned blouse.

"You liked it, huh?..." She panted and thrust into you, her voice cracking with pleasure. The pained moans coming out low through the blue panties into your mouth, your eyes watering with the pleasure Tess wrung out of you and her strong hands pulling you against her. You melted in lust, desperate to come. The pressure builds as you grip the bed sheets. "Fucking needy taking my cock..." Hearing Tess moaning made you crazy horny even as she tried to suppress it as she pulled your hips against her harder, lifting it off the bed and hitting the exact spot inside you. "C'mon baby, cum for me..." The frantic moans come out of your throat hard and your eyes roll in pleasure, full and almost painful. The sensation flowed for long seconds through your body, clouding your mind and heating your still throbbing sensitive spot as she continued to thrust without respite.

"Holy shit..." her head thrown back and the moans getting even more hoarse. Her hips take on a torturous rhythm and feeling her tighten around you, you push yourself against her, grinding your hips, totally controlled by the pleasure of the orgasm. "It's so fucking goood!!" Her moans intensify and she repositions her hands on your hips, going deeper and deeper. She was Paradise. The rosy cheeks and eyes fixed on you, the expression of pure pleasure on her face, the fine sheen of sweat covering her belly, the feel of her jeans against your ass, it was all too much for you.

"Like that baby..." You tried to follow the movements of her hips, breathing hard. Your pussy heats up and you close your eyes, the familiar feeling building again. You thought you were going to go crazy with lust. "Fuck just like that... rubs on me!!" She moans through her teeth, her voice cracking with pleasure as you comply, the greedy moans coming faster from her lips as she comes thrusting into you. Could feel the base of the toy at your entrance, Jesus Christ...

Her hips slowly slow down and you sigh, the pleasure . She was breathing hard as she leaned into you biting your bottom lip and going back to use her now so gentle fingers to pull the blue fabric out of your mouth, you finally being able to draw in a free breath.

"Better that way, isn't it?" She whispers in a tender tone, nothing compared to how she fucked and came with you. Alternating between her eyes and the satisfied smile she had on her lips, you run your hand inside her shirt, watching her close her eyes.

"Yep, I learned my lesson: Talk a lot until you fuck me again..."

#smut tess servopoulos #tess servopoulos x reader #tess servopoulos #lgbtqiia+#lesbian #the last of us #the last of us fanfiction #anna torv

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