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bumpkinspice0 · 3 months ago

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Recovery Time: Chapter 9

Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Rating: Explicit (Minors do not interact!!!!!!)

Word Count: 3.9k

Summary: You and Joel prepare for a storm together

Warnings: SMUT! Oral (f receiving), sex, kinda rough sex? dirty talk, multiple orgasms, aftercare AN: I have no excuse for why this took so long to update and you all have permission to beat me up for it

Series Masterlist

Previous - Next

AO3

_______________

Chapter 9: Storm Breaking

The wind had picked up, and a thin blanket of snow already covered the ground in what felt like a matter of seconds. The brown dead vegetation was already being choked out by endless white. You were right to be concerned about this storm. It was going to be a bad one.

You rushed out the door while half-explaining what needed to be done to Joel. You’ll take care of the chickens and food, and he’ll take care of pumping the water. You’ll need to get the storage up in the tank. You’ll both take care of the wood. He runs up the hill where the well pump is, and you scurry to the chicken coop. With the potential of being snowed in, you had to be well-stocked. You had to be ready. Of course this all had to happen when you were finally having a moment.

The quicker this gets done, the quicker you get back to… everything else.

Well, that was half true. You’d been caught with your pants down—this time literally— by unexpected weather before, and it always ended poorly. Never underestimate Mother Nature. If you were prepared and ready every time, then you were safe. This time, you seemed to be justified in your anxieties. You didn’t even waste time putting on a jacket before leaving the cabin, and you were already regretting it.

A cold burst of wind nearly knocks the Buck Shack’s door open. You hurry inside as Gus herds the precious poultry in behind. You start a small fire in the smokehouse just above the floor.

“It’s not a heat lamp, ladies, but it’ll have to do. You know the drill.” You assure the hoard of hens.

Gus makes quick work of the herding, rushing them all inside in less than 2 minutes. A new record. If only there was time to congratulate him on such a feat. You’ll have to remember to give him an extra piece of jerky later as a thank you for helping you get laid slightly sooner.

You toss in a few good handfuls of dead leaves for bedding. After double-checking the ventilation, you latch the new hen house door behind you.

Now the cellar.

You don’t even look at the jars as you shove them into the basket by the stairs. You’re not sure if it’s because of your actual worry for the storm or because of what’s waiting for you after. What you hope is waiting for you afterward. You can’t deny a small part of you is a little happy about this.

He was about to leave. He was ready to step out the door, and now this happens. You’re not sure you believe in miracles, but you’ll take what you can get. If the almighty sent a freak blizzard to keep Joel in your life a little longer… Well, then you better start praying again.

On your third trip up from the cellar, you see Joel stumbling down from the water tank.

“Should have a few extra hundred gallons now,” he’s shouting, but his voice is practically lost in the billowing wind. “What else is left?”

“Firewood.” You re-latch the cellar doors, your fingers already stiff and numb from the dwindling temperatures. You’ve lost track of how long you’ve been running back and forth to the front door. You consider rushing inside to dig out your gloves but decide to push through.

The quicker you get this done, the quicker you get back…

Arm full after arm full of wood is unceremoniously dumped inside as you both rush to finish the final task before hunkering down through the storm. You wonder if he’s thinking the same things you are. If he’s eager to get back to you. You were trying to quell the stirring butterflies in your stomach at what was to come next— nervous about the possibilities. Now that he had time to think about it, would he reject you? In the heat of the moment, the actions were so clear, but now that you both have a moment to pause, maybe you should reconsider.

He was leaving. Not anytime soon in this weather, most likely, but he was going to leave eventually. Getting attached would make it all the more difficult. At the same time, the thought of having to tiptoe around each other in your cramped little cabin sounded nauseating. Tensions were already so high between you both, and now this?

Is his mind racing the same way yours is? Does he have unfounded anxieties about made-up scenarios? He was such a straightforward man; you doubt it. Joel didn’t seem like one to just wonder about something— he would just take it.

That would make this all so much easier if that’s how he started this. His confident, guiding hand to quell your anxieties. Would he do that? Take care of you in that way? Maybe. You’ll find out soon.

“That should do it!”

You both toss a final bundle of logs through the door, a good pile towering in the corner of the living room. Enough to last a few days.

You stand at the door of the cabin, mulling over your mental checklist. Was that really it? No, something felt off. You were forgetting something, you’re absolutely sure of it. What else could there possibly be?

“What is it?” Joel’s gloved hand comes to grasp your freezing one. You try to ignore how his gentleness makes your stomach leap.

“It’s… I don’t know,” you bite your lip, “I feel like I’m forgetting something.”

“You got the chickens in? Wanna check the water level?”

“No, no, I—” A wet nose nudging your other hand is your first clue. You look down to see Gus whimpering at your side, eyes darting to the raging snow outside. Oh no.

Lilly.

You look down at the porch and see a set of quickly filling little paw prints in the snow that lead off to the east side of the house. She must have run out with you and Joel, and you didn’t even notice. With Gus acting this way, it was clear she wasn’t in the house. She was still out there, cowering and scared. Oh that stupid fucking cat. It’d been so long since you’d viewed her as just a cat, though. She was your family. Some of your only family. You had to find her.

You jump off the porch, calling her name.

“Wait!” Joel calls out, his voice only landing on deaf ears.

You follow her tracks away from the house. They quickly disappear in the pelting snow, but there was just enough to tell she went toward the water reservoir, likely trying to follow Joel there. Of course, can’t let her new favorite person brave a crippling storm alone—stupid, stupid cat.

The snow was already ankle deep on you, and the wind was punishing. You were struggling just to walk; you can’t imagine how hard it might be for a ten-pound animal.

You made it to the water tank. A quick look behind your shoulder and you see no sign of Joel. He was likely taking his time to search the lower part of the hill. You circle the reservoir, calling out Lilly’s name and praying that dumb little animal can hear your voice over the wind. There was barely ten feet of visibility now, she’d likely gotten lost.

You take a brief moment to check the water levels of the tank. Joel had pumped in another five hundred gallons, definitely enough to assure neither of you has to come back up here for a while. Unfortunately, you can’t bring yourself to be grateful just yet.

“Lill–” you’re cut off as you round the tank a second time, slamming directly into a familiar board chest.

“I have her!” He shouts over the wind. He opens up his jacket ever so slightly, and a set of familiar green eyes peers back. You immediately sigh in relief, “Damn thing was just under the porch. Come on, let’s head back.”

He puts an arm around you, shielding you from the wind as you both carefully walk down the hill. Now, with a moment to breathe and every task completed, you can feel the cold start to creep in. Snow clung to every part of your clothes and froze into your hair. Yeah, you should have definitely grabbed a jacket.

You both burst into the cabin, quickly locking the door behind you. In the peek of gratefulness, Lilly scurries under the couch, quickly followed by Gus. Their own way of saying thank you for rescuing them from a certain frozen demise.

You kick off your boots while Joel latches the door behind you. Limping over to the wood stove to thaw yourself out, you curse your practically frozen joints. Well, that’s what you get for running out blindly in a blizzard without sparing a second to even grab a damn coat.

“Holy shit,” Joel grumbles as he adds a few more logs into the stove. Its warmth already filled the cabin. Still, that didn’t make you thaw out any faster.

You jump in surprise when Joel grabs your hands. His own hands were rough and already warm. He always seemed so warm.

“Silly woman, didn’t even think to put on a coat or gloves.” He scoffs, delicately running his fingers over yours.

“I think my panic was justified,” You scoff through chattering teeth. A gust of wind shakes the cabin walls as if to agree with you.

You stand there in silence for probably too long, both of you likely too dumbfounded on what to say next— or maybe too nervous. Really, what could you say? Can you just get right back to business? Did he want to talk it through? If he did, then this would be the perfect time for him to say something.

He was stuck here in this little cabin with you at least until the storm passed. He wanted to leave. He’d been waiting to leave. You kissed him. He kissed you back— And he wanted to kiss you back.

This wasn’t one-sided. That’d become obvious. Even still, with the rush of adrenaline and too much time to ponder your own desperate actions, you started to doubt it all. All the courage you had earlier depleted.

You’re cold, you’re tired, and now your whole body is sopping wet to top it all off.

The snow sticking to your hair and clothes was finally melting, the fabric awkwardly clinging to your skin. You realize you must look like an absolute wreck at this point.

You pull your hands away from his and turn away. You start to unbutton your top flannel before you take a step towards the hallway. A hand on your elbow stops you.

He silently turns you back towards him— that same fiery look in his eyes before the storm came. You gulp as he reaches for your flannel. His hands replace your own frozen ones. Slowly, he starts to unbutton the shirt, one by one.

“Let me help,” He murmured, his gaze transfixed on your peaked nipples.

“Joel—”

“You do too much, you know that? Too busy takin’ care of someone else.” He rolls the sleeves off your shoulders, and the soaked garment falls to the floor with a wet plop. Only your white undershirt remains, equally as drenched and clinging to your skin.

His fingers hook under the hem of your shirt. The final layer of fabric that separates him from your bare breasts underneath. You’re positive the shirt is drenched to the point of being see-through. His eyes dart to yours, asking permission to continue. Your breath hitches as you give a small nod.

He savors the moment, slowly gliding his rough palms up your torso as he rolls the shirt over your head. You gasp at the chill the air sends over your bare skin. Your T-shirt joins the flannel on the floor.

His eyes don’t leave yours, even though his hands roam up and down your bare skin. He pulls you into him. He’s warm. He’s so fucking warm.

“Who’s takin’ care of you, darlin’?” That raspy baritone sends shivers down your spine like it never had before. He knew exactly what he was doing.

His lips crash into yours with the same urgency as before. The frenzied roughness is all the permission you need to rip at his clothes. You feel his breathing jump when your hands reach the bare flesh of his stomach. He pulls you closer into him, your bare chests crushed into each other. His warmth against your peaked breasts makes you mew in delight.

He brings you both down to the floor, pushing you down and crawling on top of you. He breaks the kiss for a moment, those deep whisky eyes setting you even more on edge— if that was even possible. His breath is heavy with lust, yours is too.

An impatient whine escapes your lips as you reach for his belt buckle again. His hands instantly grab your wrists, a dangerous warning flashing in his eyes.

“I told you,” his voice has nearly dropped a full octave, “You do too much.”

He gently returns your hands back to your sides before reaching for your pants. The graze of his knuckles against the soft flesh of your stomach sends jolts down your legs as he runs them across the hem. He slowly unbuttons them, his eyes never leaving your own. If he keeps this shit up you doubt you’re gonna last long.

You worry for a moment that his touch may linger on your scars there. A sporadic pattern of jagged, ugly lines on your lower abdomen. He’d never seen this part of you. Luckily, he’s a gentleman, or at least doesn’t seem to care.

You raise your hips, and he pulls your final garments down in one yank, both underwear and pants quickly discarded across the room. You lay underneath him fully bare and waiting— eagerly waiting.

You have to will your legs not to shake as his hands run up them, his mouth placing stubbled kisses along your inner thigh. Each contact of his lips sends a new jolt of wetness straight between your legs. Despite your efforts, a few moans escape you. You swear you catch the hint of a smile on his lips as he trails closer to your pussy. He likes this, you think. Seeing you start to crumble from so little.

He hovers there for a moment, his warm breath caressing your eager cunt. “Let me take care of you, darlin’.”

He rips a scream from you as he engulfs you, hot tongue delving through your folds and dragging up to your bud. His fingers dig into your squirming hips, nailings leaving crescent indents in the supple flesh. He could break skin and leave you bleeding for all you cared, just as long as he didn’t stop.

Christ, when was the last time someone did this to you? And was it ever this good? No, no, you doubt it was.

Your hands find his lushious curls, holding onto him for dear life. He laps at you greedily— furiously. His skilled tongue moved with a precision you’d never known. Somehow, you're not surprised he’s an expert at this. You’re not sure why.

His deep moans as he works send shockwaves through your whole body. They tell you something that sends your head swimming. He’s enjoying this just as much as you.

The previous freezing cold is now completely forgotten in the warm embrace of Joel Miller— and it’s everything you imagined it would be.

“Christ,” You hear him murmur against you, “S-so fucking wet, sweet girl. So wet.”

“Just for you,” you mew in a voice you thought you’d forgotten. “All for you.”

“So good,” He runs his flat tongue over the length of your slit before sucking in your clit.

“Fuck!” you scream, your thighs closing around his head. The orgasm hits you unexpectedly. Liquid fire rushes through your veins in an instant— and entirely too soon. Still, Joel doesn’t seem to mind, his mouth still eagerly consuming you as you attempt to crush his skull.

You knew you wouldn’t last.

The tight coils of your muscles slowly unwind as you come down, sweat pricking at your brow already. And it was… embarrassing. You came so fast and it was fucking embarrassing. You groan and cover your face with your hands.

“Hey? Sweetheart?” You feel Joel crawl over you again, your dripping cunt already missing his perfect mouth. “I’m sorry I didn’t—”

“No! No, not that! You were— That was—” you stammer over yourself as usual. He hovers over you, patiently waiting for an explanation. You feel your cheeks heating even more, if that was even possible, “I… I came too fast.”

“Nothin’ wrong with that.”

“No, it’s not— I just—” you sigh, brushing your hands up his chest. You feel his muscles tense in the wake of your touch. “I just wanted to enjoy that a little longer.”

He smiles, leaning down to kiss you. You sigh at the taste of yourself on his lips. He moves down to your neck, nipping small marks down to your shoulder.

“I don’t know what I did to make you think I was stoppin’ there,” He murmurs against you, his voice painted over with lust once more. He’s a far more attentive lover than you’d thought he would be— not that you’re really complaining, of course.

You finally manage to rip off his belt. He pulls down the waistband of his pants and finally pulls his hard cock free. He sits there for a moment, slowly stroking himself above you. Your mouth waters at the sight of him. Massive cock already throbbing hard and dripping. You’re absolutely delighted to keep finding out that no part of Joel Miller is how you’d imagined he would be— not at all.

He finally completely abandons his pants and comes back down to you. You’re both here, completely bare. The barriers are finally broken down and neither of you have to hide anymore— you don’t have to resist anymore.

Nothing is ever going to be the same.

You feel the blunt head of his cock jump as it comes into contact with your sopping entrance. He sighs, dropping his head back to your neck. He rolls his hips gently, not to enter you but to coat himself in your release. The gentle yet so purposeful soft contact makes another moan escape from your lips— his velvet hard cock stroking through your weeping folds. It was heaven.

“I—” His gravel voice drips with desperation, “I don’t know how gentle I c-can be, sweet girl.”

Whoever said you wanted things gentle? Clearly, you’ve given him the wrong impression as well. You place several sloppy kisses along his shoulder as you wrap your legs around his waist. You lick a stripe from his neck up to his ear before you whisper—

“Then don’t be.”

He growls, a filthy but exciting sound, before he pulls back and slams into you. You arch in a silent cry, your nerves screaming from the sudden fullness you hadn’t known for far too long. He waits for you to adjust, only for a moment. You can see the tendons tensing in his neck, heavy ragged breaths blown into your hair.

“Sweet little t-thing,” he groans as he slowly draws back.

He slams into you again, the force far more pleasurable this time now that you know what to expect. Christ, you were so full. If you’d known he would feel this good, you would have cornered him on the couch weeks ago.

“Joel…” You can’t help but moan his name as he sets a pace, his heavy breath against your neck sending chills down your spine. His grip on your hips tightens, each thrust becoming harder than the last— more punishing. He needed this as much as you did. Is it selfish to think that? You don’t really care at the moment.

He shifts you both, coming up to his knees and raising your hips to meet him. His first thrust at the new angle hits something inside you, something that makes you gasp and the edges of your vision blur. He took notice, a small grin pulling at the edges of his lips. With crippling precision, he hits it again, and again, and again…

“S-so busy takin’ care of everyone else,” he grunts through his efforts. “When’s the last time someone took care of you, darlin’?”

He holds you against him, grinding his pelvis into yours. His hand comes up, his thumb pressing against your clit. You can’t help the scream that practically drools out of your lips.

“Tell me,” you almost don’t hear him say it, “When— when was y–your last time…”

So it wasn’t rhetorical. You muster up all the brain strength you can to answer.

“T–too long… years,” you manage to squeak out between gasps. His hand still hasn’t left you, “T–too f–fucking… long…”

“Shame… fucking s-shame…” he finally pulls out again, resuming his same brutal pace, “Woman like you… out here all alone… fucking shame…”

Joel Miller is a dirty talker; who knew? You don’t have the capacity to register his words while he's holding you on the cusp of another orgasm, though. Those rough hands working you like he already knew every part of you— or maybe any amount of intimacy is good enough for you now. Though, you highly doubt that.

He releases your hips and you both fall back down to the floor together. He doesn’t slip out as you do, his movements becoming more sporadic as you both chase the same high.

It catches you by surprise again, a crashing orgasm that shakes your whole body. You arch into him, your mind numbing for precious split seconds.

“Oh god— that’s it. That’s—” He hastily pulls out of you, spilling his release over your stomach with a final sinful moan.

He holds himself over you while you both come down from the same high, his head hanging low between his shoulders. You see his back rising and falling with his breath as he gathers himself. You reach up and grab his hanging head, placing a soft kiss in the messy mop of his hair. He immediately looks up, capturing your lips for another kiss. You both hold it longer than expected.

The room is so quiet now— Only the sound of crackling fire to cut through the dense, sex charged air. Wordlessly, Joel rises and steps into the kitchen. You gasp at the loss of him. He comes back with a damp washcloth. He kneels at your side and silently runs it over your stomach and between your legs, cleaning up the mess you both made. You wonder if he’ll bring up the scars now. He doesn’t.

He discards the washcloth, throwing it across the room. He puts his pants back on and you just wrap a blanket around your naked body, the warm air more comforting against your bare skin than any sweater would be.

He pulls you onto the couch and you curl into him without hesitation. You both sit there silently, listening to the raging storm outside.

“Guess you might be stuck here for a while longer,” you eventually say. His hand gently strokes over your bare shoulder.

“Yeah… guess I am.”

#joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fic #recovery time #joel tlou #joel miller smut #joel miller x f!reader

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bumpkinspice0 · 2 months ago

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Recovery Time Chapter 10: Storm Settling

Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Rating: Explicit (Minors do not interact!!!!!!)

Word Count: 2.8k

Summary: The storm rages on outside, but you an Joel have each other to find comfort in

Warnings: fluff, SMUT, oral (fem receiving), counter sex? praise kink? little body worship, so much naval gazing AN: Happy season 2 premier day (Hold me I'm so scared) Lets just enjoy some domestic fluff and smut Joel Miller, okay

Series Masterlist

Previous - Next

AO3

_______________

Chapter 10: Storm Settling

You never made it to the bed, both choosing to lounge in the warmth of the wood stove on the couch. Long comfortable silences and roaming hands. You’re not sure if you’re both just enjoying the bliss or too scared to say anything.

It’s nightfall now and a few lanterns lit about the small space. Joel sits, still shirtless, on the floor leaning against your legs on the couch and lovingly plucking away on Art’s guitar. A book was open on your lap, but truth be told, you’d barely read a page— Joel’s distracting that way. He hums low with a few melodies, only one you recognized from the night you spied on him. You’d wished he felt comfortable enough to sing in front of you. You wished for a lot of things.

In a way, the silence was stifling. You want to know what’s next. He’s stuck here longer now, but would he still leave? The romantic part of you hopes not, but the logical part of you knows he owes no loyalty to you just because you’ve slept together now. Still, the things he said, the new feelings shared. Maybe it was something.

Regardless, you take the coward's way and don’t mention it.

“You hungry?” you ask, gently running a hand over his shoulder. He pauses his playing, head leaning over to place a gentle kiss on your hand resting on his shoulder.

“I could eat.”

You stand off of the couch, wrapping a flannel blanket around you. You still hadn’t bothered to put any clothes back on.

Maybe you could just keep seducing him into staying?

Shaking the ridiculous thought from your head, you pull down a jar of bone broth and some jerky from the cupboard. You place the open jar on top of the hot stove to let it heat through a little. Something warm in this weather sounded comforting.

The storm had only let up a little, the extreme winds dying down but snow pelting down just as heavy as before. A glance outside and you see almost all the vegetation of the messy forest ground was blanketed over by crisp white.

“How’s it look out there?” Joel asks.

“Like…winter.”

“Hmmm, descriptive,” he chuckles before focusing back on his guitar.

With some physical distance between the two of you, you take the chance to finally just admire him. He was beautiful, ruggedly handsome the way that only comes with age. But there was something about him here… like this. You’d seen Joel relax slowly over the months he’d been here, but now there was just something else. Joy? Contentment?

Most people call it afterglow, dumby.

You smile to yourself, unable to help the blush creeping into your cheeks. Is he thinking the same things you are, you wonder. Is he trying to hide his giddiness too? Again, a part of you hopes so and the other part of you doubts it.

You take the warm broth off the stove and bring it to the counter. You pour the hot, nourishing soup into two mugs. You’re about to pull down two plates when something stops you… the feeling of two heavy hands on your hips.

Joel’s standing behind you, his oppressive presence crowding you against the counter. His lips come down and kiss your exposed shoulder where the blanket has slipped down.

“Joel…”

“You haven’t gotten dressed,” he murmurs against your skin.

“Don’t want to.”

“Good,” his lips trail up to your ear, “You shouldn’t.”

You say nothing as his hands snake around your waist and pull you into him. He rests his head on your shoulder gently, watching your hands work as you pull apart a few strips of jerky. The fact that you're able to focus on anything other than him is a miracle in and of itself.

“What do you miss most?” you find him asking. “About the world. About… everything before,” he clarifies.

“Why do you ask?” You say as nonchalantly as you can manage.

“Just… thinkin’ about it more.” He places another lazy kiss on your shoulder, “Lot of time to think today.”

“Mmmm,” You mumble, trying not to dwell on the words unsaid, “Then I think you have to tell me first… since you’ve been thinking about it so much.”

He doesn’t respond right away, but he doesn’t pull away either. Just holding you there, starting to sway you both gently side to side. You stop your fiddling with the food and place your hands over his, hopefully an encouraging gesture. He obviously wanted to share something, and you wanted to listen.

“Peace,” he finally says, “Peace and quiet…contentment.”

“There’s still plenty of that.”

“No. Not like this… Not for men like me.”

“Joel—”

“Tell me what you miss, darlin’...” He cuts you off before you can ask what he means. His hands trail up your torso, gently pulling the blanket further down your body.

“A warm bath.” You answer with a small snort, the chilled air pricking at your skin.

“Mmm, does sound nice.” Those rough hands hold your now exposed breast, gently massaging the supple skin. He buries his nose into your hair before asking again, “But what else?”

Your breath catches when his thumb runs over your nipple, every hair standing on end as he gently plays with you. He’s barely done anything, and you're starting to fall apart at the seams.

“I… miss— I miss—” you attempt to answer the question, “I miss purpose.”

“Purpose?” he repeats.

“Having a purpose. A s–sense of purpose at least,” You try to clarify, not noticing your hips grinding back into his. “Living just to survive… that’s not what people are meant for.”

“Some might say that’s all we’re meant for.”

“N–not me… not most…”

“Surviving is living.” A hand trails up to cup your jaw, the other trailing down your stomach.

“Try telling that to an artist or a t-teacher…” his hand cups over your bare cunt, “...or a singer…”

You shudder as a finger runs through your slick folds, slowly dragging back and forth, gathering your wetness, before lazily circling your clit.

“There aren’t any artists anymore,” he murmurs against your skin. “No teachers, no singers.”

“T-there are…it’s just harder to see them…”

He only hums in contentment, one hand slowly stroking between your legs and the other gently massaging your breast. The blanket had completely fallen to the ground at this point, your bare body pushed against his. You felt the warmth of this chest against your back— the rhythmic rise and fall of his breathing.

“I t-thought you said you were hungry?” you smile under his touch.

“I am…” his grip tightens, “I’m starving.”

He twists you around in an instant, cupping his hands under your ass and lifting you onto the counter.

“Joel!” you grip his shoulders as he balances you there just on the edge. His mouth finds yours, just for a moment. A quick but undoubtedly hungry kiss. A desperate kiss. His mouth leaves yours with a sigh, lips trailing down your torso as he comes to his knees before you.

You don’t have time to say anything before his mouth envelopes your cunt, only able to let out a desperate scream in response. Your fingers dig into his mess of hair while his hands hold you open for him, wrapping around your thighs and fingers digging into the meaty flesh.

“Fuck!” You wail into the empty space above you.

His tongue laps over your greedily, almost no thought behind his movements. Frenzied and strong movements to claim you— to show you how much he wants this. Eventually he buries himself between your legs, tongue stroking up and down and nose nudging at your clit.

You teeter against the counter, one leg wrapping around his shoulders and the other attempting to find balance against the floor. It was useless. He had you pinned there, open and wanting for you.

He looks directly at you, his tongue flattening as he trails a lazy stripe from your clit over to the apex of your thigh.

“I like the way you sound…” he murmured into the flesh there. “When you let me touch you.”

“Joel… please,” you tug at his hair. He hums in approval.

“I like hearing you beg.” You catch the faintest glimpse of a smile before his mouth returns to where you need him most.

If you had your full wits about you, you’d be wondering how he became so open so quickly. So wanton and talkative. This is a new side to Joel Miller, a side you’d fantasize about but never thought you’d meet.

You were so convinced he’d pull away after you both got back into the cabin. After the charged air settled and you both could just breathe for a second. You thought he’d tell you this was a mistake. Thought he’d say you should forget the kiss ever happened. Instead, you both laid lazily in each other's arms for hours in the din of comfortable silence. And now he has you pinned against him again.

How happy you were to be proven wrong yet again.

You pull at his hair, murmuring his name like it's a sin. He looks up at you, eyes glossy and mouth drenched. You pull at him again, urging him to stand up to meet you. He does, slowly, dragging his tongue against your skin the whole way.

You’re finally able to settle both of your feet on the ground when he kisses you again, hungry and tasting of you.

“You’re beautiful.” He murmurs against you, teeth nipping at your jaw.

“You’re… not what I expected.” You don’t notice your hands pulling at the buttons of his pants. “Not at all.”

“I hope that’s a compliment.” You can feel him smile against you.

“It is,” you pull down his waistband, “It definitely is.”

He grinds his hard length against your bare stomach, huffed groans slipping between his parted lips.

“Let me show you exactly the kind of man I am, darlin’...”

He pulls away from you abruptly, grasping onto your hips and turning you around. He bends you over the counter, shoving his hips into yours. You feel his hard length pressing against your dripping cunt, heavy and pulsing.

He rolls into you, agonizingly slow and deliberate. One hand on your hips and the other pressed into your back. An aching, deep moan drools from your lips as he claims you— As he takes control.

You fucking loved it.

His thrusts are slow at first. Purposeful and almost experimental. He’s letting you adjust to him and savoring the feeling at the same time. You’re still sore from just a few hours ago, but you still want more.

He comes down to lean over you as he finds a steady rhythm, lips peppering kisses across your back. A hand reaches around to find your clit as he continues to fuck you against the counter, clinging to you like his life depended on it.

“So good, baby,” he murmurs behind you, “F-feel so good. So pretty… so good.”

These are not the actions of a man who would want to leave. Not the words of a man who doesn’t care.

You could dwell on the vast and complex implications of the recent changes Joel and your relationship has experienced in the last 6 hours. You could stir your anxieties about what on earth he could possibly be thinking rather than just asking him and risk ruining the mood. You could make him stop right now and tell him this isn’t a good idea. Yeah, you could do all that.

Or you could just… enjoy.

Enjoy him. Enjoy this gift you’ve both been given. Why think about tomorrow when you have everything right now? Constantly thinking about what’s next is all you’ve done since the world ended. When was the last time you just lived? The last time you enjoyed something without thinking you had to earn it? Everything was perfect right now, and that’s all that mattered.

Joel wants you and Joel is still here— and that’s all that mattered.

__________

He wants to scold himself for being a creep and watching you sleep, but he can’t help himself— you were like an antique painting. Magnificent and indescribable.

You’d opted to make a nest of blankets and pillows on the living room floor rather than sleep in your actual bed. The bedroom was too far from the stove anyway. You’re probably still chilled to the bone from running around in the cold with no jacket earlier.

The yellow light of the fire from the open stove danced along the curves of your naked body. His eyes only linger for a moment on the scars on your lower abdomen, more prominent than the other small ones across your body. He wonders about their story but knows better than to ask. Someone did that to you. The thought makes his blood boil. He can’t seem to help himself from being possessive—it’s who he is. Something so delicate and beautiful, and you trusted him. He won’t abuse the privilege.

This was all too good to be true, and it finally came when he was just about to leave. What an idiot he was for wanting to leave something like this behind.

Joel was never much of a believer in a higher power, at least not since the day Sarah was killed. If there was a God, he gave up on mankind a long time ago. Why believe in him if he did this to his world? But this… this all seemed like some divine act of coincidence.

It felt so wrong and so right at the same time. Could this be possible while the world went to shit just beyond your door? But why should he care when everything he wanted was right here? What could he really do out there? He wasn’t like Tommy. He had no desire to try and save the world. He survived. He lived day by day.

You’d asked him before what he did back in the QZ, and he didn’t really have an answer. He did a bit of everything. Aided and abetted, mostly. He was a bad man that did bad things—but he was the best one that did them. The muscle. The one you’d always go to. He hated it. God, he hated it.

What was his role in the world, really? He’s not sure anymore, but he thinks he wants you to be part of it.

He could keep you safe— If he does one good thing in the world, it could be that. You talked about purpose earlier, maybe you could be part of his. The last bright burning candle in a raging storm, and he found it. Could violent hands like his care for something so delicate, or would they eventually snuff it out? He wishes he knew.

Yes, the world was going on without him out there. There’s a thousand men like him still doing the same horrible things… but there was only one you.

Here, he could be something for someone. Here, he could have something all his own. It was selfish, he knows, but so tempting. Did he deserve something like this? Is that how the world worked? No, of course it wasn’t. Joel didn’t deserve nice things, but you surely did. You deserved to have something, even if it was just him. The thought of leaving you here alone again made his heart ache. Could he sleep peacefully at night knowing you're out here alone, unprotected?

No. No, he’s sure he never could.

And then, the decision was so easy. A new life was waiting for him. One with a more fulfilling purpose. One he could actually take pride in. Keep you safe. Keep you close. Keep you for himself. It was only a selfish act if you didn’t want him here, too.

Joel could be thick sometimes, but he wasn’t an idiot. This was never a one-sided attraction. He tried to deny it, tried to ignore it, and look where that got you both. This world was so ugly, why try to deny yourself something good. He's done with all that bull shit now. He has you. And dammit, he’ll do his best to repay that kindness. To earn that love. It’s the only way he knows how to be.

Joel never thought of himself as a kind man, but he knew how to love someone.

He eventually comes down to lay beside you and pulls you in close

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