#joel mill x AFAB!reader

[simpingcowboy]

Not a Meet-Cute

Pairing: Young(er)!Joel Miller x AFAB!Reader, no gendered language, reader is characterized as a hopeless romantic

Word Count: 6.5k+

Warnings: SMUT!! Angst!! Lots of feelings on both ends, light gun use, slightly meta, language, implied age gap, references to masturbation, outdoors sex, oral (F receiving), protected PIV sex, gratuitous use of pet names

Summary: About 5 years since the outbreak, a group of smugglers come across your camp looking to trade. Despite your efforts, this was not a meet-cute. (Basically reader and Joel fucking the feelings out of each other)

A/N: There is a AMAB!Reader version of this available here! This definitely escaped me, but I'm very happy with the way it turned out <3 enjoy!

It began as all good "love" stories do, with loaded guns pointed at each other. He had arrived the day before. A handsome stranger among the crowd of smugglers that happened upon your camp. Though their initial arrival was quite dramatic, a two hour standoff happening before trade negotiations were met, things had actually been quite calm since they came. They were allegedly making their way to the Boston QZ, though of course you had no way to prove that.

Most of them were quite polite. Some are even friendly. The younger Miller brother Tommy for example, was very talkative. Though frequently being pulled back by his older brother, Joel. That was the one who caught your eye from the moment he walked into town.

Tall. Handsome. Looked around forty. A few grey hairs grew in from his temples and dotted along this beard. He was cold. Quiet. Definitely the muscle of the group. His accent was deeper than his brother's. Richer.

Later in the night, after his group had gotten settled in an old warehouse, people began trading. Their low to mid level goods set out on the ground. The much better items tucked away behind them for safe keeping. You stop by, curious as to what these outsiders had and secretly hoping to catch sight of the older Miller brother. You spot him. Standing off in a corner with a woman. You approach slowly, not wanting to seem eager. They greet you with a silent nod as you look over the goods they had.

"What's that?" You ask the woman, gesturing to a book they've laid out.

"A book." She says with a shrug. Books weren't exactly high rate items. Common, but scattered to the winds.

"What kind?" You ask, intrigued by the cover. The front features a handsome man, a halfway unbuttoned shirt on. Shoulder length hair looking wind blown.

"A romance novel. It's not really my taste but-"

"I'll take it." You interject.

Joel raises an eyebrow at your interest. He'd been trying to tell Tess to just drop the damn thing if she was done reading it. Insisting it was worthless. No one trades for books. Words he'd surely be eating later tonight.

"We just got a bunch of medical supplies in. Tell them I said you can have three of whatever you want." You say, clearing the book off the ground.

Your love of romance wasn't exactly a secret around here. Over the past five years you'd grown fond of the genre. You hadn't exactly had a whole lot of dating experience when the outbreak happened. Being too young to really get to experience much of life at all. But you had these books. Had some idea of what life might have been like before. Bumping into handsome strangers in the grocery store. Or coffee shops. All the typical meet-cute story lines. All the things you knew you'd never have.

Under the protection of the barely functional streetlight outside your apartment, you peacefully read the new romance novel you'd gotten when a low grumble interrupts you. Looking up from the tattered book pages you see the familiar stranger. Joel.

"The book." He says, lips pouted down at you.

"Yes?" You answer, your own eyebrow raised in curiosity.

"Why?"

"Why?" You repeat. "I just like them." You answer defensively.

"It's not real, ya know." He states boldly. Though you can't help but feel an edge of sadness at his proclamation.

"They're marked fiction for a reason." You say, tapping the spine of the book labeling it as such.

The man grunts in response. "They only cause problems for people." He tries to reason. "You read it enough and you start believin'." It happened with Tess. She read as many as she could get her hands on. At first it was endearing…in a way. Then she began to give him that look. Of expectation. Of desire.

You couldn't exactly understand why this stranger cared. He'd hardly spoken a word in this town, but decided to waste his breath lecturing you for your choice in literature. It didn't make his words sting any less. But you wouldn't let him know that. "I don't know…this would make for a pretty good book, huh? Meeting under the street light, on an empty street. Pretty romantic if you ask me."

"Weird. The word you're looking for is weird." He corrects you. Annoyance laced through his voice.

"Yeah yeah, whatever you say." You wave him off.

The man rolls his eyes and walks away, considering it a lost cause.

Maybe, you think to yourself, this is the start of something. You smile to yourself, a plot forming in your mind. It'd take some sleuthing…but you could deal him an offer. Something vague so he doesn't hold any expectations. And you knew just the place to do it.

That's how you ended up, squatted behind the forest line outside of the warehouse. You'd correctly figured they'd hold a night watch, in case you were not as friendly as you appeared. The letter you'd slip him in hand. You drift in and out of sleep, listening in for a change of voices. Then, Joel. You hear that sweet Texas accent through the creaky warehouse doors. He's awake now and has taken watch duty. After a few minutes, waiting for the prior watch guard to fall asleep you quietly approach the main door. Sliding the folded letter under the small gap in the door before running out of sight.

Now, you just had to wait for tomorrow.

You got up early to wash before heading out to the disclosed location. Just up the side road was an old abandoned barn, long forgotten about even before the outbreak. Surrounding the miles around it were the tall dried stalks of corn. It was one of your favorite places nearby. The best place to go to be left alone. Though, today you were hoping to be joined by Joel Miller.

So you waited, shaded under the overarching roof of the barn. A long shadow appears along the edge of the barn. You stand up gun in hand, not wanting to be too careless. The mysterious shadow narrows down as they get closer. Eventually revealing Joel Miller to be its owner.

"You came!" You say cheerfully, a bright smile on your face. Quickly packing your gun back to your side.

"Yeah, I came." His brown eyes are sharp like a hawk as he slowly moves in closer. Keeping vigilant of every rustle for a possible ambush. "I believe you have something for me?" He asks, getting straight to the point.

"Kind of." The air is still.

"Go on." He prompts you, looking expectedly at your bag.

You shake your head, body full of nerves. This is nothing like the books you think to yourself. "Well I, it's not so much of a something. More like a someone."

"What the hell are you getting at?" He just short of growls out at you. Eyebrows pinched together in annoyance. This is a waste of time, he thinks.

"I just thought you were handsome!" You spit out, face going hot with embarrassment. You're not nearly as smooth as those romance protagonists in your books "I was hoping we could work something out…" Your voice comes out much meeker than intended.

"Like what? You want me to court you or something?" Joel shakes his head, unbelieving the scene before him. "Yeah- not happening." As he turns on his heels, you reach out to stop him.

Taking his shoulder in your hand, "We can fuck." You spit out quickly. For a moment, you swear someone else's voice comes out.

That stops him. Dead in his tracks. Voice catching in his throat. Hands flex at his sides. Slowly, he turns back around. Dark brown eyes locked onto your face. He needs to have misheard you. Needs you to take it back.

"You want me to fuck you?" He says, slow and dangerous.

Your hand snaps back to it's place by your side. "I mean only if you want to I-?' you answer with a tilt of your head. Mindlessly stepping back from the man before you.

Wordlessly he grabs you. Hands catching your forearms, forcing you still for him. "There's no teasing in the goddamn apocalypse, Kid. You're either offering or you're not." His breath is heavy. Chest rising and falling drastically. "I'll ask you again." His large hands fall from your arms. "You want me to fuck you? Yes or no?" No, he thinks, please say no.

"Yes." You swallow your nerves, or pride. In truth it's hard to tell which is which.

Joel feels himself go lightheaded. His mouth is parched. He fends off the image of you below him spread wide and taking him. He has to do this right. "Do you have condoms or something because I'm not-"

"I have some!"

With the roll of his eyes, Joel goes to scold you, but you stop him before he can even start.

"Give me a second." Throwing your bag off, you reach into the innermost pocket. Tucked away safely between the edges of a notebook is a roll of condoms, about six in total. "Here." You say, tossing them to him.

He catches them with ease. "Where did you get those?" Joel's eyebrows pinch together at the sight of a condom.

"We raided a clinic awhile ago and I um grabbed some in-case I needed them…"

"Shit, should've grabbed the whole box." He scoffs. Contraceptive methods had been one of the first things after medical supplies to grow scarce. Looking over the wrapped condom for the date, Joel's surprised to see it's still good to use. The older man chews at the inside of his cheek. His eyes drift over your body, languishing his will power. His mind searching for a reason to say no. To do what he knows he should do and turn you down. Never should have come here in the first place. But fuck- the sight of you gets him harder than he's been in years. "Fine." He says flatly, caving into his own desires. The roll of condoms thrusts back towards you for keeping. "Where?"

You fiddle with the roll of condoms, haphazardly putting them back in your bag. In truth, you had expected him to say no. "I figured here is good."

"Here?" He remarks, hands on his hips. Glaring around the dead field, the dried corn stalks lining the perimeter around the barn did offer some privacy. The ground was flat and not too dusty. Though he's sure even the pathetic cots you each slept on would be more comfortable than this. "Why not in the barn?"

"The whole thing is rotted…it's practically a death wish to even try to open the door."

"Jesus." He swears under his breath.

"I can lay my jacket down? Or go get a blanket-" You offer with an unassured smile.

"No." Joel's quick to cut you off. "We'll use mine." He says, shucking his thick jacket off his broad shoulders. "Yours is too nice for this." He huffs, kneeling down besides you and rolling his jacket out as wide as possible. Brown eyes meet yours from where he kneels. His eyes look down to the makeshift bed, if it can even be called that. "Well?" He prompts you. A part of him is hoping you run. For you to change your mind. To stop him from making another in a long run of follies.

Your breath hitches in your throat. Your lungs are as parched as the dusted ground beneath you. You want to frown. You want to feel ashamed. Or embarrassed. Or another other than the hot throbbing between your thighs. But you don't. Years of yearning for romance. For love. Boiled down to the base desire to just be wanted.

The jacket you wore peels from your skin, and is tossed to the side with your bag. Your knees hit the ground with a soft thud, as you shift to lie down onto Joel Miller's jacket. The hem of your shirt riding up just enough to feel the delicate threads of the cost against your back. His warm brown eyes blow out as he watches. Suddenly, it doesn't matter whether he loves you or not. He wants you. And that'll be enough for now.

"Well?" You return the question.

"Fuck." He practically groans. Large hands finding their way to your waist; unbelieving he's being allowed to touch you. "Let me get you ready." Joel shifts between your legs, working your bottoms off. Fingers hooked into the waistband of the garment.

You watch for a moment, fixated on the flurry of movements Joel makes. Noting just how good he looks between your legs. Just as he groans at the reveal of your underwear, you pause. "Aren't you gonna kiss me first?" A warm tinge heats your cheeks. A touch of romance wouldn't hurt, right?

He freezes. Eyes shooting up to meet your gaze. Fuck. He's way out of practice. "Do…you want me to kiss you?" He asks with uncertainty. It's been so long since he's had this. Someone to touch. To hold.

"Yes?" You answer with a hitch of your voice. "If that's okay."

He swallows. The Adam's apple of his neck bobbing. Kissing usually comes first, right? "Yeah…" you don't miss the way his voice quivers. "Yeah- come here."

With that, his hands return to your waist. His broad frame arching over you to reach your lips. He moves slowly. So unlike the quick pace he'd adapted moments earlier. His right arm curls up around you, supporting your back. That beautiful arched nose bumps against yours in a graceless manner; you suppress the urge to laugh at just how awkward he is at this. You hear his breath hitch in his throat. Joel's eyes flutter shut as he closes in the short distance, pressing a short peck to your lips. Pulling away before you even get to sink into the plushness of his lips. Arms unwrap around you, switching to being propped on either side of your head. His eyes are wide and nervous. He looks like a schoolboy who just kissed someone for the first time.

"I'm sorry." Joel whispers above you. That smooth Texas accent soothing the injury to your ego. He didn't want to pull away. It felt good. Too good. Too close. Too intimate. Too much of all the things Joel has run from since the outbreak.

"It's okay…" you murmur. Deciding to mask your disappointment with humor, "You're not that quick with the rest of it, right?"

He huffs, a small smile on his face. "Let's hope not." Fingers dip back along your waistband, "Let me take care of you."

With the nod of your head, Joel is back again. Sitting on his hunches between your legs, shifting your bottoms off. A groan escaping him at the sight of your underwear. His mouth watering at the small wet stain building along the interior. After fully freeing you from the contrates on your bottoms and setting them aside; Joel leans in close and inhales. Letting the scent of you linger in his lungs. Letting it intoxicate him. You silently thank yourself for remembering to shower earlier.

The flat of his tongue presses through the threadbare panties into your folds. Making the sizable wet mark grow even larger.

"Fuck-" you whine, hips bucking against his mouth at the contact.

His mouth is so warm against you. Instantly making your whole body go hot. The unabashed moan he lets out gets you so fucking aroused. He peers up at you from between your thighs, a look of satisfaction obvious in his eyes. Thick fingers wiggle their way to the side of your panties, playing with the hem. Barely dancing over the edge of your cunt. You let out a whine, grinding up against his face again.

"Need it bad, huh?" He teases.

As much as he enjoys teasing you, Joel can't deny himself anymore either. Fingers hook into the waistband of your panties and make quick work of removing them. His mouth drops as he's greeted with the sight of your bare cunt, glistening in the afternoon sun. You watch as he rubs over the growing bulge in his pants. Eyes focusing on the large length barely concealed under the thick denim. His hands spread your thighs wide, wanting a fuller look.

You whimper when his hand makes contact with your cunt. Spreading your lips apart to see you even better. A sudden wave of self-consciousness hits you. The open air makes you feel so vulnerable. A cool breeze wafting over your most sensitive parts. Shadows trick your eyes, feeling as if someone is watching. You whine, pressing against Joel's hands to close your thighs.

Never one to miss things, Joel catches the way your eyes dart around the open space. Sensing your sudden hesitation. "No one else will see you but me." Joel assures you. "It's just us." His hands rub the length of your thighs with great affection. "I can go look-"

You shake your head, comforted enough by his own confidence. He has a way of speaking that puts you at ease. "No, I'm okay now. Please, touch." You plead, pulling one of his hands back over your heated core.

Joel groans at the feel of your wet pussy. His thumb rolling over your throbbing clit. "It's alright, Sugar." The nickname extracting itself from his memory of a time before. A time when you greeted one another with politeness instead of with the end of a gun. "I'll take care of ya." He promises, leaning down to lick a stripe along your folds. Moaning at the taste of your unfiltered wet sex.

His tongue is strong. Forcing its way between your folds. Pressing heavy against your clit, flicking up on the sensitive nub. Joel is slow to start. Still adjusting on the ground where he lays. Mind spinning around how the hell he got here, but unable to deny the persistent throb in his pants. His tongue draws soft shapes on your clit, causing another rush of slick to escape you.

"Joel." You whine beneath him, hips rolling up against his mouth. It was good. But you needed more. Needed him to devastate you. "More." You plead.

With that he begins to devour you. Jaw unhinged and pressed over your wet cunt. nt. That beautiful arched nose rubbing over the top of your sex as his tongue eagerly laps at the warm slick dripping out of you. Eyes still fixated on your face, watching it contort with pleasure. Though his eyes burn hot through you, Joel ensures there’s no time for you to be self conscious with the manner in which he hastily matches you, moan for moan. Enjoying the raptures of your cunt as much as you enjoy his tongue. Each moan of his sending waves of vibrations through you.

“Taste so good,” He groans into you “like fucking honey”. Face pressed into your sex. Hands stationed on either side of your thighs, propping you open for his enjoyment. Joel fucking missed this. As he pulls from you to catch his breath, you’re greeted with a sinful sight. A layer of your slick glimmers off his mustache and around his beard. His pretty nose and lips glisten with it too. Joel looks so good covered in you.

You moan with each roll of his tongue on you. Letting out a shameless cry of his name when he plunges his hot wet tongue inside of you, breaching the walls of your sex. Fucking you hard and fast with his tongue. His thick fingers digging even harder into your thighs. That tight band in your core threatening to snap. Your hand goes to entwine in his short messy hair, needing back some of that control. Holding his head still, as you grind up against his open mouth. The need to cum rapidly grows within you.

“Close! S-so fucking close!” you tell him.

Joel shakes your hand off his head, knowing just what you need to make you snap. “Cum for me.” he demands.

Strong hands push your legs up, forcing you even more open for him. Wet slick covered lips wrap around your throbbing clit and suck harshly. Eyes once more fixated on your face, needing to watch you cum for him. Just as he sucks, the band snaps. Your legs shake on either side of Joel’s face as you find your own euphoria. The feeling of cumming on his tongue is so superior to any orgasm you’ve had on your own since your last partner. Your body caught in a pulsing heat, releasing waves of slick down over his chin and down onto his jacket beneath you.

“Too much, too much-” you whine, sitting up and nudging his face off of you.

But it’s not enough for Joel. He’s waited too long and worked too hard to give up his prize that easily. He growls at you, moving his face back to your sensitive cunt, “Wait.” he commands sternly. Leaning back into your entrance and diving in to collect your delicious cum. “Taste too good.” His tongue presses in at the bottom of your entrance, and he fucking slurps you. Taking in everything you have to offer and swallowing it down. A happy sigh comes from the man between your legs, blowing a soft huff of air over your sensitive cunt. Brown glossy eyes peer up to see you, almost like he forgot you were even there. Reality catches him in it’s cruel grasp again as he remembers, He shouldn’t be here.

You work to catch your breath, still recovering from your orgasm. Mind blurred and pliable with desire. Everything you’ve ever read before paled in comparison to the real life man still situated between your thighs. You want to hold him. To kiss him. Really kiss him. But mostly at this moment, you want to make him feel good too.

“Come here,” you beckon him. “Want you.” You turn to reach for your bag, digging out the roll of condoms and tear one free. When you return to face him, you expect him to be tearing away his clothes. Instead, he sits in silence. Resting back up on his haunches. Breathing heavy. “Joel?”

It’s not too late to stop. Not too late to pull away. He tells himself, hoping you’re satisfied enough to want to stop. Hoping to save you from himself.

“Joel?” you begin.

Don’t ask. He silently pleas.

“Will you-”

Don’t ask again.

“Please” your arms wrap around his neck.

If you ask again.

“Please fuck me?”

He can’t deny you.

“Yes.” he answers warmly. So unlike the first time you asked. His head leaning in to press against your forehead. “Yes.” Warm half-lidded eyes pool into yours. “Take off your shirt.” He instructs, pulling off of you to work on his own clothes.

“Yeah, yeah I can do that.” Immediately tossing off your top and discarding it to the side. Leaving you totally bare, other than your socks.

A small smile plagues Joel’s lips at your eager behavior. Slowly, he unbuttons his top layer. Sliding off the warm flannel, leaving him in a tight off-white undershirt. He catches the way you eye him, drinking in the sight of him. Admiring his broad build, and strong full arms. A smirk appears on his face.

“Those books don’t have pictures?” Joel asks in a teasing tone, referring to the romance book.

A warm heat comes up your cheeks, a look of embarrassment obvious on your face. “Nothing more than what’s on the cover.”

“Let me give you a visual than, Sugar.” He says, thick fingers coming to the hem of his shirt. Drawing out the reveal, Joel lifts his shirt slowly. Enjoying the way you stare at him, relishing in each new inch of skin he bares to you. Fuck he loves this. The way you make him feel. So wanted. So desired. There were other man at your camp. Other single men in his group. But you chose him. And it felt so fucking good to be wanted. To let himself be wanted.

Joel's shirt is eventually lifted over head, revealing his body to you. His pretty tanned skin shining in the sun. Soft freckles scattered across his broad chest. Along his shoulders are evidence of fights, knife fights, gun fights. You name it. It appeared that Joel had been in several of each. Your eyes lower down to his soft stomach, just barely pronounced. A light trail of hair guiding down to where you really want to be. His hands come down to the waist of his jeans. Teasingly rubbing along the outline of his hard cock. Letting out a groan of relief at the light friction.

"This what you want, Honey?" He asks in a sickeningly sweet accent.

"Yes." You moan, keeping your hands from touching yourself. "Please."

He happily answers you. Undoing the brown leather belt of his pants, and opening his jeans. Pulling them down over his hips to reveal the grey boxer briefs he sports. A darker grey spot forming where he leaks precum. His thick fingers slide into the waistband, slowly pushing them down. A loud groan escapes him when his cock bobs free. Proudly jutting out towards you. Hard and pulsing. It's the perfect length. Just wide enough to give you a good stretch and leave you aching. The pretty uncut head of his cock covering the throbbing purple head.

"Condom." Joel grits out at you, quickly growing impatient.

"Yeah just let me." You practically throw yourself off the jacket rolling over to grab your bag.

Quickly retrieving the condoms and ripping one off the roll. You toss it in his direction. Which he easily catches. He tears it open, tossing the foil to the side. He works efficiently. Pinching the tip with one hand and rolling it down with the other. You work to resituate yourself under him. Laying back against the dusted earth, hands methodically rubbing along the edges of Joel's jacket beneath you. The frayed seams keep you grounded. Your eyes watch as Joel spits in his hand, coating his condom covered cock with it. Lubricating himself more for you.

"Ready?" He asks once more, an edge of insistence in his voice. He needs this.

"Fuck yeah." And you're just as bad. Pushing your hips up, ushering him inside.

Joel kneels between your thighs, knees spread apart. He hitches your legs up on his hips as he lines up at your entrance. The top of the jeans he neglected to take off rub against the insides of your legs. A low groan catches in his throat as the tip breaches the walls of your sex. You let out a gasp at the stretch of him around you. Your body barely has the give to take him. But you do. Inch by inch, letting him drown himself inside of you. To get lost in your tides. His cock fills you perfectly. Your mind goes blank of any worries. You swear you could die happy with his cock buried inside you.

And as Joel sinks into your warm tight walls, guilt hits him like a freight train.

He feels bad. Fuck he feels bad. He always fashioned himself a gentleman. A man of southern manners. He doesn't even wanna think about the whooping he'd get if his mother was still around to see what he was doin. Fucking this sweet young thing he barely knew on the filthy ground. He'd hardly even kissed you when you asked. This wasn't like him. Not even close.

"Joel" you whimper below him, pulling his attention back to you. Legs wrapping around his waist to pull him tighter. Desperation growing in your core. The need for him to move becoming difficult to ignore.

"Shhh I gotchu, Sugar." Joel hushes you with a tentative thrust. A shiver shot up his spine. The pleasure was almost foreign to him, but the memory quickly reformed. "Fuck that's good." He moans, taking a fistful of your breast in his hand.

Joel carves his way into you. Opening you up more and more with each roll of his hips. His cock dragging heavy along your insides. The tip catching on that perfect spongy spot that made you see stars with each thrust. That perfect cock reaching places you'd been unable to yourself in so long. Joel looks so good above you. Broad and strong. With every thrust into you, his stomach clenches and arms tighten. His hands keep a strong grip on your hips, working to keep you stable for him. Dark brown eyes fixated on where you're taking him. Drunk of the way his cock splits you apart. A layer of sweat accumulating on his warm chest. He reeks of sin and sex. Evidence of your prior orgasm still lingering on his mustache. It's like a dream.

"So perfect, Baby" you murmur in your lust-filled haze, not noticing the pet name slip from your lips.

With each thrust into you, his conscious blurs. The old Joel Miller would never have taken such a young thing to bed. Hell he'd probably never even entertain the thought. The old Joel Miller would have at least taken them to dinner…

"F-fuck Joel!"

or the movies…

"Takin it so good, Sweetcheeks."

or out to a game...

Not to the back of a goddamn barn for a quickie. That much he knows for sure. But the old Joel Miller was happy. Happier at least. He had a life.

"You're so big!" You cry out.

He had a family.

"Tight little thing." He groans.

He had his Sarah.

So why? Why couldn't the new Joel Miller have something? Something that made him feel good? Feel anything other than pitiful sorrow? Something in the form of a pretty babe to let out all that frustration on. He wasn't hurting you. Or cohorecing you. You had wanted him. Asked for him. He was just fulfilling a need. Just like he'd done since the beginning.

Raiding when needed.

Fighting when prompted.

Killing when asked.

He'd done worse things since the outbreak. This? This was nothing.

Joel begins fucking you with reckless abandon. Ruthlessly snapping his hips into you, making your body bounce. "Need you." He grunts out between thrusts. "Need you to cum." His hand releases itself from your hip, and comes down onto your sensitive clit.

A shudder runs through you as his hard calloused thumb rubs hard fast circles over you. Your walls flutter around him. "J-Joel." You whimper. He leans down closer, groans of satisfaction echo in your ear as you just take everything he gives you. It's too much. Too much and yet not enough. The way he fucks feels like a bit of karma for your romantic ideations.

There was nothing soft in his voice. Or in the way he took you. Maybe there is no softness left in Joel Miller. Maybe there is no softness anywhere on this planet. A part of you wants to cry. Wants to feel disappointed. To run away back to your books. But you don't. You can't. Because no matter what you thought before, you can't deny you love this. The fire within you, burning brighter with each touch. Rough hands on your tits and clit. Rubbing you raw. Each scrub of his long hard cock along your walls brings you to the edge of ecstasy. Even the way your legs on his hips absorb the shock of his powerful thrusts. It all feels good. So fucking good. And you never want it to stop.

Not like he had a choice, Joel reasons with himself. There were no more nice restaurants.

"Close- so close" you moan beneath him.

Or movie theatres...

"Soak that cock, Honey."

No place to go with the rested assurance you wouldn't be swarmed by infected...

"I love your cock!"

There's no time for romance...

"Pussy is so fucking good."

Or love...

"Gonna cum!"

All there is is survival. And this…the soft enveloping warmth between your thighs. And the pleasure he could offer you. Joel could never sweep you off your feet, but he could at least leave you with shaking legs, and his name on your lips.

With another thrust, he succeeds in his task.

"Joel!" You cry out, vision blurring out along the edges. Your cunt catching him in a vice grip, squeezing him tight. Soaking his cock in a rush of slick as he struggles to continue rocking into you. Legs convulse around his hips as pleasure enraptures you in its grasp. "G-good so good." You murmur, panting out.

Joel continues rocking into you, extending your orgasm and seeking his own. But it's not enough. He needs something. More. He needs more. He lurches forward, fully grasping you in his embrace. Strong arms pressing you into him. His lips catch yours in a heated kiss. Soft plush lips devouring you. That sweet arched nose bumping against your cheek as he kisses you, tongue licking along the seam of your lips. The sweet whine you let out is all it takes.

With that he cums, happily moaning into your mouth. Cock throbbing heavenly inside you. Pulsing against your fluttering walls as he fills the condom with himself. Grinding his hips down against yours. Not wanting it to end. Never wanting to pull away from you again. Joel stills inside you, his cock softening. His lips linger on a final delicate kiss, before begrudgingly pulling himself away. His eyes reel down your body as he lifts himself off you. Slowly pulling his cock out of you. Making quick work of the condom, tying it off and tossing it to the side where the foil still lies. He quietly tucks his still wet cock back into his pants. Rolling over beside you, laying on the cool ground.

It's quiet between the two of you. Nothing but an exchange of breath and the rustle of the corn can be heard. You both stare silently up at the bright blue sky.

"Been too long." Joel pants out, breaking the silence.

"How long?"

"Since before."

"Before the outbreak?"

He answers with a silent nod. Eyes closed and head pressed back against the ground.

You scoff. "Definitely too long." You tease. Deciding to get redressed you grab your top and throw it back on. Not feeling particular about staying naked much longer.

He huffs a small laugh out, "You're telling me." The rustle of clothes catches his attention.

Looking over and finding you dressing, he can't help but pout. He wants you to stay. To say something stupid and romantic. But that's not how this works. Not anymore. Especially not after what you two just did.

You ease your way off Joel's jacket, a layer of cum and spit sticking you to it. The wetness between your legs makes you wish you'd thought a bit harder about the after effects of your plan. Things were never this messy in the novels. You think, wanting to roll your eyes.

Joel noticed the way you shift uncomfortably, still coated in the mess. "Here." He says getting back up to his knees. Grabbing his jacket from the ground and going closer to wipe you off. "Gonna have to wash it anyways." He says simply. Carefully cleaning the excess of both of you from between your legs. "That's better."

"Thank you." You say softly, feeling much less sticky now. Quickly going to finish dressing. Tossing on your top and shoes.

Joel remains kneeling on the ground, trying and failing to hide the way he watches you. Following your lead, he retakes his shirts in hand and throws them on. Standing up, he quietly rebuttons the outer flannel. Tucking his undershirt into his pants.

"So…you're leaving tonight. Is that right?" You ask in a hushed voice.

"Yeah…"

"Where are you headed again?" You ask, trying to keep things casual. Not wanting to show you desperation for him. How you are silently hoping for him to stay.

"East Coast. Thinking of heading up to Boston."

"Mmm…well if you want-"

"Don't ask me." He cuts you short. Not wanting you to ask what he thinks you're gonna say.

"What?" You ask, put off by the shift in behavior.

Joel feels his heart beat in his chest. Fists flex at his sides. "Don't ask me to stay. Or to come with." He says, jaw locked. Folding the soaked jacket over his forearm. Eyes stay low, focusing on the caved foundation of the old barn.

The corners of your mouth twitch with the taste of irony. "Wasn't going to. " You say casually, picking through your backpack for something. "I was going to say there are showers in town. Figured you'd wanna clean up a bit before getting back to the road."

He answers with a nod. Cheeks heated at his slip.

"Here." You say flatly, offering him three of the six remaining condoms. "They go out this year…I'm not so sure I'll use them all."

Joel gently takes them from your hands. "I wasn't kidding when I said I haven't-"

"I believe you." You interrupt. Throwing your backpack onto your shoulder. "Trade them. Use them. Sell them. They're yours to do as you please."

He nods, seeming to accept your offer. He tucks them away safely in his breast pocket.

"I guess this is it then." You stay, staring up at him. Trying to commit this stranger to memory. Marking his lowbrow and arched nose. Cropped curls and patchy beard.

"I uhh …thank you." He spits out, unsure of the right way to end this. "And I'm sorry…for what I said."

You raise a curious eyebrow at his apology, not quite catching what he's saying.

"About the book. It's good to have something for yourself."

You chuckle softly, "Oh that…it's fine. Really. You're right." Feeling bold, you finally look back into the stranger's eyes. A warm familiarity washing over you. "It's just fantasy."

"Right." He nods in agreeance. "Well, can I walk you back to town?"

A soft smile comes upon your face, ever the gentleman, "Yeah, sure. I'll show you where the showers are."

The walk back is silent. Nothing but the sound of shuffling feet fill the empty air. The sun lowers in the sky, just staying high enough to rest above the corn stalks. Eventually, you return to town. You can already imagine the kind of rumors that will plague you for the following weeks ahead. You guide him to the showers. Planting your feet firmly in front of the shower station.

"Here we are." You declare, sliding him a coin to use for the wash. "That should cover you."

"Thank you." Joel replies, wondering if things could be different.

"I guess this is goodbye, then?" You say with a soft shrug, feeling content with your short adventure.

Joel turns to you with a softened expression, his eyes big and round. "Goodbye and thank you-again for everything."

"Goodbye Joel Miller." You say with a smile, turning to head back to your apartment.

Just as all good "love" stories end, he watches as you walk away alone towards the setting sun. The taste of you still lingering on his tongue.

[fettuccin-e]

Can't Help Myself

Kinktober Day 28: Intercrural Sex

Tags: Joel Miller x Reader, afab!fem!reader, Jackson!Joel, thigh fucking, that's right no penetration actually occurs, corruption kink, kind of innocent!reader, big dick Joel is back in town (w/c: 1.5K)

A/N: Alrighty! So this is something I started writing during Kinktober and I finally decided to just finish it, even though I did not completely finish Kinktober but whatevs. So here's a little mid-November porn for everyone hahaha

He can’t fuck you. Not right now, not fucking ever if he has anything to say about it. This has gone too far already, this ridiculous infatuation you’ve both developed.

No, for Joel, it’s become a downright obsession. 

He should have said no the first time you pulled him into your home, into your bed. You’re too pretty, too innocent for him. You whine so pretty into his mouth whenever he kisses you, choke on your moans and cry whenever he pushes his fingers deep into your pussy in the dark of your bedroom, away from prying eyes and the endless rumor-mill of Jackson.

He should have said no the moment you pulled him to your lips, before any of this had gone too far for Joel to look back.

Ellie says that he’s stubborn as a mule, Tommy tells him that making small talk with him is like talking to a brick wall. Joel has known for a long time that he can be scary as all hell, not backing down for a damn thing and definitely not taking any shit from anybody. 

Except for you.

For you, Joel is a weak, weak man.

Weak to your soft skin, weak to the way you writhe beneath him. He can’t help himself when he lays you out on your bed, strips you bare for him, tracing his thick, calloused hands over your body and watching you shiver with it.

God, you’re sensitive. You keen when he thumbs over your stiff nipples, gasp when he presses them through the seam of your cunt, gliding up, up until he can trace them around your needy clit and watch you squirm.

He’s broken so many rules already, so many times. He can’t help it, not when you taste so fucking good with his head between your thighs. Can’t help but fuck his fingers into you so brutally when you ask, relishing in the way you scream when his fingers grind up into that little spot so deep inside of you. 

But he won’t fuck you. He won’t, he can’t, go that far, desecrate you even further than he already has. He’s done so much, let you have him every other way that counts, but fuck, he can’t bring himself to finally cross that last little barrier between the both of you.

Even as you beg and plead beneath him so pretty, even as his cock aches between his thighs, your cunt gushing around his fingers. He can’t do it.

“Fuck me, please, please, let me try, c’mon Joel, please,” you breathe beneath him, your chest heaving as he works his fingers into you. “It’d feel so good, please, need it so bad.”

Joel feels lightheaded, the sound of your voice and the obscene sounds of your pussy sucking in his fingers echoing in his ears.

“Darlin’,” he murmurs, “Doesn’t it feel good like this?”

“Wanna make you feel good,” you say, “Wanna feel you inside.”

“Sweetheart,” Joel groans like he’s been punched. Nobody affects him like this, nobody except you, and fuck, the change is intoxicating.

“Fuckin’ needy,” he mutters, but he knows it’s the exact opposite, even if he’ll never admit it. You’ve got to be some kind of fuckin’ siren, and Joel can’t help but succumb to your every whim.

He reaches his free hand between his legs to grip the base of his cock, pulsing and hot in his hand, desperate to feel you. He can’t help it, he has to fuck you, has to feel the hot clutch of your pussy around his cock finally, after fuckin’ weeks. Rules, reputation be damned, he has to-

The thought creeps into his mind nearly too late. 

There’s a tincture that the Jackson apothecary sells, some kind of natural birth control that plenty of the ladies around town use to prevent bringing children into this fucked up new world. There aren’t any condoms, any other type of birth control.

And fuck, Joel knows that you haven’t taken it. Knows his own weakness; that if he sinks himself inside of you just like he wants, he won’t be able to stop until he’s pumped into you so fucking deep, filled you up with cum and owned you in the most primal way he knows how.

“Can’t,” he chokes, and pulls the leaking tip of his cock away from where it was so close to your gaping entrance. “Don’t wanna risk it.”

The way you whine in protest has his head spinning, has his hips bucking forward to slide the throbbing length of his cock through your folds. The head of it bumps against your swollen clit, and you gasp sharply, your hands flying up to dig your nails into his shoulders.

“Oh, pretty girl,” he can’t help the grin that creeps across his face as you gaze up at him, your bottom lip between your teeth. “Did you like that?”

You shut your eyes at the question, so Joel pulls his hips back just to fuck upwards again through the seam of your slick cunt, sliding into your clit again. You moan, loud and whiny and desperate, and it makes Joel want to fuck you so hard you see stars.

Instead, he pulls back, pulling your thighs up between you both, practically folding you in half, his cock pushed between the soft skin of your thighs and the hot wetness of your pussy. God, it’s fucking tight between these perfect thighs, fucking soft and soaked with how much you need him.

“Can I fuck you here, baby?” he murmurs, and you nod feverishly, whining high in the back of your throat.

“Please,” you whisper, and Joel is too desperate to tease you anymore.

He fucks between your thighs like he’d fuck you for real if he could, brutal thrusts of his hips that have the head of his cock jamming into your puffy clit. You’re fucking gorgeous to see, to hear, moaning like it’s the best you’ve ever fucking had.

Fuck, it might me the best Joel has ever had, the soft, slick skin of your cunt and thighs pressing around him so tight, so perfect. It’s fucking maddening to watch as his cock parts the lips of your pussy around it, so fucking thick compared to your tiny entrance. 

“You want me in here, honey?” he murmurs, pressing his hand into your lower stomach as he shoves between your thighs. “Want me to fill this pretty pussy up?”

“Fuck-” you choke on your own spit as he grinds his cock up into your abused, sensitive clit. “Please, please, need it so bad. ‘M so fucking empty, Joel.”

Joel groans, his head dropping as he tries to gain some sense of control again, but God, it’s fucking warm and tight and you’re so pretty begging for his cock.

“Gonna get you that stuff from the apothecary in the mornin’ baby, ‘n I swear I fill this cunt up just like you need,” he growls, and you moan so loud, so needy beneath him. “It’s gonna stretch you so wide, fuck, you’ll be all stretched out for me, nobody can fuck you like I can.”

“Yours, yours, yours,” you gasp, hips twitching with the orgasm building in your stomach, threatening to throw you off that peak.

“I’ll fuckin’ fill this cunt up with my cum over and over again, sweet girl. You’ll be fuckin’ dripping with me.” 

You gasp, your eyes clenching shut and your mouth gaping open in shocked, overwhelmed pleasure as his words send you over the edge. You cunt clenches around nothing, painfully empty as Joel fucks between your thighs. Your clit feels fucking raw, overstimulated and so sensitive as Joel abuses it with his thick cock.

“Fuck, that’s it baby, that’s my good girl,” Joel says, his hips jamming forward again and again and again. Your thighs clench tighter together with your orgasm, the pressure so perfect and warm and soft around his cock that Joel can't help but follow close behind.

He grips your thighs so tight the tips of his fingers go bright white as he splatters cum all over the outside of your pussy.

The image makes him fucking lightheaded, the sight of you painted white. A sick sense of ownership floods through him, a sign that he’s in too fuckin’ deep.

And then, you gaze up at him, and giggle.

You giggle like he hadn’t just ruined you, like he hasn’t been ruining you for months. You giggle like pure sunshine beneath him, and God, Joel’s once cold, dead heart flutters at the sound.

He’s in way too deep. Too deep to ever go back, fuck, he’ll die before he goes back to a time he didn’t know you.

“C’mon, sweetheart, let’s get you cleaned up,” he says, pulling himself off of you, only for you to rise up with him, wrapping your arms around the back of his neck. You pull him into a kiss that is far too filthy for a sweet little thing like you.

“Why get cleaned up if we’re just going to get dirty again?” you whisper against his lips, and Joel grins in spite of himself.

“Got plans for me, darlin’?”

“More than you’ll ever know,” you say, and Joel can’t help but press you back down into the mattress, licking into your mouth until you fuckin’ melt beneath him.

[magpiepills]

Made Me Love You

Chapter 2

Rating: EXPLICIT 18+ ONLY! MDNI

Pairing: Tommy Miller x AFAB reader, Joel Milled x AFAB reader

work count: 3.7

Summary: you and Joel are left to your own devices after a night of debauchery with Tommy and emotions run high.

Warnings: smut, PIV, Unprotected sex, oral (f and m receiving), fingering, infidelity, size kink, multiple orgasms, dirty talk, cum eating, feelings, angst. No use of Y/N no established age gap, no physical description of reader, angst, etc.

A word from the author: this is a repost! I don’t normally like to get too plot heavy because I prefer to jam-pack my writing with wall to wall smut, but I didn’t think I could continue this story without some plot. Don’t worry, though, it’s still plenty explicit. I think I may have one more chapter in me to finish out this story, maybe two. I can’t make promises, though. If you see spelling and/or grammar mistakes, just ignore those. I write all this on a phone with a broken screen. Hope you enjoy! Big kiss to the ✨magic sluts✨ for the inspiration.

Tommy didn’t wake you before he slipped out for a long day checking over a new job site. He had left you sleeping peacefully, alone in the bed you’d shared, where he and his brother had both fucked you thoroughly last night. Your sleep was deep and dreamless. Just like you had wanted, and you awoke slowly, tangled in the sheet, naked and warm. You looked around and let the memory of the night before play back in your mind. It made your heart ache. The room was quiet and still, with sunlight slanting in through the curtains. When you rolled over, Joel was there, in his own bed, face squished into his pillow, looking at you as if waiting for you to tell him what to do, but you just met his gaze and looked into his eyes for a while across the narrow space between your beds, each of you at the end of an invisible tether.

Joel had woken up early, he never slept well but it was pointless to even try after what had happened.

“Hungry?”

“Mm. Coffee maybe.” You kept the conversation simple, not wanting to get into the messy tangle you’d tied with him last night at 8am. You stretched, arching your back into the mattress. You realized that you were still naked under the sheets, and debated asking Joel to hand you your robe but the little part of you that liked teasing him won out, and you slipped out of bed naked to saunter to the bathroom. You didn't check to see if he was looking.

You took a long shower, repeating your routine while replaying everything that had happened in your mind, remembering everything they had said. Everything Joel had said. You didn’t regret it exactly, but you hadn’t given any thought to how things would be between the three of you now. Part of you hoped you’d never speak of it again, never acknowledge it, wipe the whole thing from your memories, only revisiting it when you were all alone and certain that no one could hear you thinking. Another part wanted every night to be an encore, the three of you falling into an easy rhythm of generous sex in dim hotel rooms. That couldn’t happen, though. Another part, a quiet part, wanted Joel to be all yours- wanted him to be the one you would go back home with.

By the time you clicked off the bathroom light, everything was made up in your mind. Last night didn’t happen, there would be no repeat, no need to talk it over, and everything would be just as it had been before. It was easier that way. No proof anything had ever happened existed. If anyone found out it would be because Tommy or Joel had told. You would deny the whole thing, play it off as an inside joke and let them sort the betrayal out for themselves. It was the only option that could make sense, even if it made your chest ache a little, knowing that Joel was everything you wanted and would never have. Not the way you really wanted him, anyway.

You finished primping, put on some sunscreen and your favorite purple swimsuit, and went in search of your book to read by the pool.

Your resolve nearly shattered before you could make it out of the room. Sitting on your bed, next to your book, looking warm and inviting in a dark blue t-shirt and cargo shorts, holding an iced coffee as if he had dropped straight from boyfriend heaven, was Joel. Damn him. He smiled and held out the coffee, and you wanted to melt into his chest. Damn him. “Got donuts too.” His voice was soft and gentle, like he worried he would frighten you away. His eyes are so big and dark and soft and full of things he wanted to tell you. Things he would tell you later.

Your plan hadn’t included a section on explaining to the brothers that none of you were to speak of the event, and were to act as if it were a strange dream. You flipped your book out of the way and sat beside him, hoping that your nerves would settle with some caffeine. Your plan didn’t include him looking this good, either.

“Thanks. You didn’t have to do this.” You tried so hard to sound casual, like you hadn’t cried his name into his shoulder while he fucked you better than anyone ever had before, and that you weren’t still dabbing his cum, commingled with his brother’s from your pussy. He clearly didn’t get the message from your tone, because after he handed you a donut, his hand was on your thigh in an impossibly casual gesture of intimacy.

“I should be taking you out to breakfast after last night.” His voice was an octave lower, and slower. Oh no. “We don’t have to… we can…we could act like that didn’t happen.”

“Is he good to you?” So much for that.

“Yeah, Joel. He’s good. It’s good.”

“He’s away a lot.”

“It’s his job. He’s got to be at the sites. You understand that. You’re away working a lot too.” You can hear the waver in your own voice. You can hear how it sounds like you’re trying to convince yourself.

“I’m here now.” He said, moving a little closer and gently dragging two thick fingers back and forth across your shoulder.

“We should go to the beach. Make a day of it. Tommy said he wouldn’t be home until late and I don’t want to waste a nice day like this.” He made it easy to read between the lines. “How late did he say?” How much time did you have alone with Joel before Tommy came back? “Six. Maybe later. He’s going to a meeting with the building inspector. We have the whole day.” His eyes searched your face, desperate for you to understand him. Last night wasn’t enough for him.

He watched as you dug through your drawer for the swimsuit you wanted, admiring the soft curves and slopes of your body, greedily staring at all the things he'd only imagined before. Once you were tied into your suit, you turned to Joel and saw he’d changed into the ugliest trunks you’d ever seen in your life. “Joel ..” you gawked at him, they looked too big and the pattern was a garish yellow, blue, and black pattern that your brain couldn’t even make sense of. “What? What’s wrong with them?” He ran his hand over the front, adjusting his half hard cock in the mesh lining, watching you watch him touch himself. “Nothing. Ready to go?” He pulled on a stretched out white t-shirt, zipped a key card into his back pocket, and you slipped out of the hotel into the morning sun. You walked up the beach, avoiding the most obvious topic, and falling into comfortable silence. Your mind swam with conflict. Thoughts of Tommy, your relationship, and how what you really wanted was to stay in the room and fuck Joel again.

When you made it down to the beach, Joel held the little cooler he’d packed in one hand, and took your hand in the other while you carried the bag with your towels and sunscreen. You walked further, looking for a more secluded spot away from your hotel and his arm was around your shoulder, pulling you close to his side. It felt so natural to be with him like this that you could easily ignore everything that was wrong. Finally picking a place to set up for the day, Joel rented an umbrella and you laid out the towels side by side, making a solitary little island in the sand for the two of you to live on disconnected from reality for as long as possible.

You took turns rubbing sunscreen into each other. He started with your back, then slid down your arms. He took his time on your chest, his fingertips dimpling the plush swell of your breasts, dipping under the fabric of your top, watching intently how your body responded to his touch. Marveled at how your nipples were hard and pressed against the triangle of your top. Satisfied with his work, he guided you to lean back into your elbows. He squeezed more Hawaiian Tropic into his palm and spread it across your belly. You could have done this yourself, but he didn’t stop and you wanted every bit of contact you could get today.

His touch was tender and slow, working his way over your hips, thighs, calves. He felt like he was getting away with something when he touched you like this. When he was done he handed the bottle to you and laid on his stomach. You straddled him and as you slicked him up, making him smell like an island god, you teased him. “I should leave a bare spot in the shape of my initials. Give you a sunburn tramp stamp.” He scoffed, “Do it. Brand me. Then I’ll put my name on you. Once my name’s on it, it’s mine.” He squinted up at you with one eye and gave your knee a squeeze and rolled under you to lay on his back, his new position letting you feel his hard length against your pussy. You rubbed your core against him as you covered his chest in SPF 50, admiring the freckles that made constellations over his shoulders.

When you were done you moved off his lap, pulling away from his grasp. You took a nectarine from your bag and took a few bites before Joel held your wrist and pulled the fruit to his mouth, holding your gaze he took a bite right over where yours had been in what felt like a small, but profoundly intimate act.

“Come swim with me.” Joel was a strong swimmer, and it was one more thing about him you liked. You always knew you were safe with him. He always knew what to do, he stayed calm, he was strong and big and decisive. Tommy was a good swimmer too, but you knew he couldn’t save you if you were in danger.

Out as far as you could go in the water, you swam, paddling over the waves, floating on your backs, diving under or getting knocked under by early breakers. Joel was always there to turn you right side up, helping readjust your swimsuit while you got your bearings. When it felt like it must be lunch time, you motioned toward the shore. He hesitated, then wrapped his arms around you and took you a little deeper and kissed you. He tasted like saltwater and the nectarine you’d shared.

He held your hips,and pulled you close until his thigh was between your legs, letting you feel how hard he was. No one could see you and no one could stop you from grinding against him, aided by his big, strong hands now palming your ass under your swimsuit. Joel kissed your neck, and slid his right hand over until his fingers covered your pussy, making you whine at the sensation and tighten your grip on his shoulders. He kissed your ear and spoke into it, sounding equal parts surprised and proud. “Wasn’t sure I’d get to touch you like this again, but I think you want it.” He was getting bolder in the privacy of the water. “I think you wanted this before.” He emphasized his point with another firm press against your increasingly sensitive folds. If this was an interrogation, you were folding. “Yeah. Yes. Wanted you before. Wanted this.” You reached between your bodies into his stupid, ugly trunks and found him hard. You stroked him as he continued his ministrations and breathed into your ear as you told him how you’d thought of him when you were alone, making yourself come on your fingers. How you’d pictured him instead of Tommy when there was a cock spurting down your throat, and how you wanted him to overwrite all of your memories and color himself in their place.

He had enough. He pushed you away from his body, and pulled you slowly to shore, taking time to think of baseball, gravel, traffic, bugs, anything to draw the blood away from his cock long enough to get back to the hotel. Back on land, he threw his towel around his neck and wrapped you in yours, rushing you back toward the room the two of you shared with your boyfriend. The walk was silent and heavy with anticipation. Joel kept you tucked tight against his side. In the elevator he took your hand and squeezed it tight, looking down at you and not bothering to hide his desire, but still silent. It was a long ride up. Every time the doors opened and closed, letting other guests on and off at their floors you wanted to scream. Finally, finally back at the room, you barely made it in the door before he was crowding you against the door, holding you, trailing wet, open mouthed kisses over your neck and jaw, before gently pushing you onto your knees. “Just for a minute. Please. I’ve gotta see your lips around me again.”

You liked how he looked when he begged. You made a show of looking up at him as you tugged down those hideous trunks, letting his cock spring free before your face. You grasped the base and gave him a few light licks up the length of his shaft, kissed the blushing head, then wrapped your hand around his shaft to gently pump him while you lavished attention there. His foreskin was smooth and soft on your tongue and slipped back and forth just a bit with your movements. You dropped both hands to your knees and took him further, slowly down, slowly back up, letting him hear you breathe, holding his gaze. He was babbling half coherent praise as you sucked “yeah, just like that. Fuck. So good. So fuckin’ good. Look at you.” You thought he would come in your mouth, but instead he pulled you up and walked you backward toward his bed, guiding you onto your back.

He leaned over you, boxing you in with a muscular arm on either side of your head and a knee between your thighs, tantalizingly close to where you needed to feel him most, but frozen by the charge in the air between you. Joel was looking down at you with a look of menace and tenderness, want and victory. It made your pussy ache. He watched your chest rise and fall, the flush that crept up your chest and neck giving away how needy you were for him.

“Take this off.” He pulled at the strings of your top while you untied the bottom and dispatched it across the room.

He wanted everything all at once. “Hands and knees for me, angel. Come on.” He urged you and helped you position how he wanted you, legs spread wide and back arched in lewd presentation. “Perfect. You’re perfect.” He held you steady with both hands firm on the globes of your ass as he leaned down and licked a broad stripe from your clit to your entrance, taking his time to taste you before retracing his path, firmer this time, pushing his tongue inside you, bringing his thumb to your clit to stroke it softly. Pulling his mouth away, Joel watched himself use his thumb to spread your wetness all around, loving how you wriggled and sighed. “You’re a mess. So wet. Look at that.” He sealed his lips around you once more and sucked firmly on your clit, making you cry his name while your thighs quaked in an all consuming orgasm.

You sank into the soft bedding and caught your breath as he rubbed up and down your thighs. “Fuck me, Joel. Please.”

“Yeah? You want that?” He asked, almost surprised. “Yeah. Ok, baby. Anything you want.”

He stroked himself and notched at your entrance, pushing inside slowly so you could adjust to his size. You whined at the stretch and groaned when he was fully seated, Joel stilled there, letting you feel his weight, his heavy cock, and kissed your jaw. “I don’t think I can let him have you back.” He didn’t give you time to absorb what he was saying, he pulled back slowly, then thrust forward a little faster, angling his hips to grind his pubic bone against your clit while letting him watch himself fuck you. His filthy narration had you on the edge.

“I love how you take me. Squeeze my cock so fucking tight.” He moaned into your shoulder, a deep, rough sound, he had to stop himself from sucking dark purple marks into your neck. “Look so pretty on this big cock. Gonna come for me one more time?” Joel kept his pace and babbled to you, letting one hand wander to your tits to brush over your sensitive nipples, or down to grab your ass and pull you tight against him. “Won’t last much longer, baby I’m sorry. Where do you want me?”

You really wanted him to come inside you. Wanted to feel it again, wanted a filthy souvenir dripping from you later while you were laying in bed with Tommy. But you weren’t ready for that conversation, so you said simply “not inside.”

Joel nodded, understanding that he couldn’t make the decision for you, so he just hitched his left leg under your hip for better leverage and drilled into you hard and fast. The angle let him hit just perfectly over that spot inside that made you see god. Your orgasm hit hard and it was all Joel could do to pull out and rut against your mound, smearing cum between your naked bodies.

Rolling off of you, Joel went to fetch a towel. He let you use it first, but you swiped a finger through his spend and brought it to your mouth, tasting him at last. There may as well have been stars in Joel’s eyes as he watched.

It was still early, 2:30 when you got into the shower and Joel went out to bring back lunch. Alone again under the hot spray, you thought. You thought about Tommy, about the perfectly adequate life you had together for the last eight months. He was good, he took you out, he was a generous lover, he has friendly and optimistic and he was so, so into you. And you liked that. But he was also immature, drinking a lot, getting into fights, losing jobs until Joel let him come to work at his small company. You wanted to bend time, make it so you met Joel first.

When you got out of the shower it was a bit of deja vu. Younfreshly showered, Joel waiting to feed you. This time it was a sack from Five Guys, and a big cup of sweet tea. Exactly what you needed. You and Joel talked while you ate, avoiding the obvious topic, and instead talked about movies you liked, books you had read, music you listened to, Joel told you about things he was doing to his house, a fixer-upper he had bought recently. “Maybe when we can get back you can come over and see. Give me some paint colors that would look good. ‘M not good at that part. Needs a woman’s touch I guess.” You dug a few fries from

The bottom of the bag and drifted away for a second to a reality where you and Joel could live together and be together and everything worked out for the best. Then you just nodded. “I’d love that.”

After Joel showered you only had about an hour until Tommy was expected back. You made the most of it, naked under the covers in Joel’s bed, legs entwined, mouths melded together while he made you come again on his long, thick fingers. “We don’t have to tell him anything, sweetheart. This can be whatever you want. I don’t want to make all this hard for ya. I won’t say anything to him if y’dont want me to. And if y’do I’ll handle him. Been handling him his whole life.” Joel looked pretty like this, naked and warm in the white hotel sheets with his tan skin and freckled shoulders, his big dark eyes, his pretty sloping nose and his untamable curly hair. “I want you, Joel.” Your voice was soft and light, he almost wasn’t sure he heard you. “Tell me again. Slowly.” You said it louder, you said it again, you said it as you kissed him. Joel beamed as he hugged you right to his chest and kissed you once more, pouring all of his unspoken feelings into you the best he could.

You’d just barely gotten buttoned back into a pair of shorts and tank top when Tommy came into the room. You went to him, wrapping your arms around his waist. He smelled like sun and sweat and dust. He pulled you up to him in a deep kiss that trailed down your neck, and cupped your ass with one hand. “Missed you today, baby.” “Missed you too, Tommy.” You nuzzled into his neck as you spoke, since again letting your imagination shape shift him into his brother. His brother who was out on the balcony, with your scent still on him. “Where’s Joel? What did you do with him today?” It was an innocent question, but you felt guilty as you quickly glanced around the room, afraid that there would be some glaring sign that would tell him you spend the day fucking his brother. Of course there wasn’t, but Tommy noticed the way you tensed and shifted his weight to one foot, cocking his head to the side. “Something wrong?”

“No, just uh, just hungry.” You lied.

Tommy studied your face in silence before kissing the top of your head. “Go get changed and we’ll go get some dinner. You nodded, relieved to have any suspicion out of Tommy’s mind for now. You weren’t even sure if he would be mad. He had enjoyed seeing you with Joel last night, so maybe you should just be honest about fucking him today. You rolled the idea around in your head as you put on your dress, and Tommy picked up the damp piece of purple fabric from the floor at the end of Joel’s bed.

[iamasaddie]

hard to be soft, tough to be tender

paring: Joel Miller x fem!afab!Reader rating: explicit (eventually) word count: 2,8k (a fucking lot for a fucking prologue but whatevs) summary: desperation was never a good advisor, and yours led you to find yourself as a wery special person among Joel Miller's Birds. You'd have to see for yourself if you had what it takes to live up to the status, and in the meantime Joel'd take care of you. // Joel Miller is a pimp and you need money, that's it. No intrigue. a/n: I am a clown and that's fine. I swore off writing a series and here I am. Writing a series. We'll see how it goes. Make sure to tell me what you think about this little thing I banged out after work! Humongous thanks to @lumoverheaven for proofreading it <3 and a shout out to my discord birds for supporting my silly ideas, I love y'all! warnings (for the series): dub-con(ish); explicit sexual content; Reader is described as bony and malnurished (hungry, duh); sex work; fingering; both protected and unprotected PinV; 69; FMF; oral sex (for everybody); ass play; unprotected anal sex; sex toys; dirty talking; might be something else who knows; NO USE OF Y/N warnings (for the chapter): nothing explicit, it's just a prologue PIMP!Joel masterlist

ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ᴀ ᴡᴏʀᴋ ᴏꜰ ꜰɪᴄᴛɪᴏɴ. ɪ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴄᴏɴᴅᴏɴᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱɪᴛᴜᴀᴛɪᴏɴꜱ ᴅᴇꜱᴄʀɪʙᴇᴅ ɪɴ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴡᴏʀᴋ ɪʀʟ. ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ, ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ꜰᴏʀɢᴇᴛ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴡʀɪᴛɪɴɢ ᴀɴᴅ ʀᴇᴀᴅɪɴɢ ꜰɪᴄᴛɪᴏɴ ɪꜱ ᴀ ᴡᴀʏ ᴏꜰ ʜᴇᴀʟɪɴɢ ᴀɴᴅ ᴘʀᴏᴄᴇꜱꜱɪɴɢ ᴛʀᴀᴜᴍᴀ ꜰᴏʀ ꜱᴏᴍᴇ ᴘᴇᴏᴘʟᴇ, ᴀɴᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ᴄᴀɴɴᴏᴛ ᴅɪᴄᴛᴀᴛᴇ ᴏʀ ᴘᴏʟɪᴄᴇ ʜᴏᴡ ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴅᴏ ɪᴛ ᴀɴᴅ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ᴛʏᴘᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴡᴏʀᴋꜱ ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴄʜᴏᴏꜱᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴄʀᴇᴀᴛᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ᴄᴏɴꜱᴜᴍᴇ. ꜱᴛᴀʏ ꜱᴀꜰᴇ, ᴘʀᴀᴄᴛɪᴄᴇ ᴄᴏɴꜱᴇɴꜱᴜᴀʟ ꜱᴇx ᴀɴᴅ ꜱᴘʀᴇᴀᴅ ʟᴏᴠᴇ.

3, 7, 13. 

You counted the ration cards in your hands for what felt like a thousandth time but the amount hasn’t changed. What the fuck were you supposed to do with thirteen ration cards? It was barely enough to get a hot plate for tonight, not nearly close to the amount you needed to pay for the shitty room in the rat-infested apartment you’ve been renting. The words of your landlord, a bulky man with bad skin and foul breath, flashed in your mind. “You get me a hundred by the end of the day or don’t bother to come back. I mean it.”

A hundred. You would have to work every job you could get, doing the nastiest tasks imaginable, to get that amount. Unsurprisingly, there weren’t enough people to give you a job as they gave your bony, malnourished body a once over. Most of the tasks would need some sort of strength, or skill. You had neither. 

As the tears slipped from your tired eyes you thought that crying was the only thing you were good at. You wiped your cheeks with anger, counting crumpled papers again.

3, 7, 13. 

Fuck. 

“Not enough, huh?”

A voice above you made you shiver. You hadn’t noticed a towering figure of a man behind you looking over your shoulder. You were surprised he even was there. ‘There’ being a dimly lit narrow alleyway where you occupied a perfectly dirty wet sidewalk which you had thought you’d have to call your home for the foreseeable future.

“I’m sorry, what?” 

You didn’t hear what the man said, and when you looked up at him your fingers continued the counting movement.

“I said it’s not enough, right? Never enough rations no matter how hard you work.”

A broken street light flickered, lighting up the face of your unlikely companion as he took a seat next to you on the pavement. You looked closely at the person in front of you. In the new world, it was pointless to guess the age, all people looked older. Already at twenty, you had forty-year-old eyes. But the man in front of you could be a little over forty, maybe 45. He was tall, even when he was sitting on the same level as you. His figure seemed massive, intimidating, even despite the relaxed shoulders covered with a simple denim shirt. You sucked in a breath as you finally realized who the man was. Normally, you wouldn't want to meet someone like him in a dark alley. No one would want to. Knowing what kind of name this body belonged to made you uneasy. Joel Miller. The infamous man was sort of a celebrity in your QZ. Well, not a celebrity, per se, but people always knew who he was if his name was mentioned. Hardened ruthless man who found his calling in selling other people’s bodies. You heard your older neighbors calling him a pimp, and you didn’t need to find the word in a vocabulary to know that’s exactly what he was.

The world has gone to shit and so did the laws, the morals, and any type of condemnation that might’ve followed him in the Old World. Joel never took anyone unwillingly, his birds, as he called his workers with perverted gentleness, flew to him themselves and he was only happy to “take care of them and help them take care of others”. 

As helpless and in need as you were, you never thought of becoming one of his ‘birdies’. Your skin tightened at the thought. One unlucky and utterly unsatisfying sexual experience years back never made you excited at the prospect of sex. Quite the opposite. 

Was it why he was here? Was it how he…

“You’re a quiet thing, ain’tcha?”

“Sorry, I’m not… I don’t… Whatever you want, I don’t think I’m..”

“Whoa there, hold up,” he raised his hands in defense, chuckling a little, “I'm just making conversation. Saw a poor thing on the streets, wondered what happened.”

“Didn’t work enough this month, now I’m facing the consequences, I guess.”

“And those being...?”

“Umm,” you didn’t understand why he was so interested in your troubles, but couldn’t stop yourself from talking. “Well, I got thrown out of my place, hadn’t eaten in a couple of days, and apparently I’m sleeping on the street tonight. Maybe FEDRA will find me and execute me and put me out of my misery.”

“That ain’t the way a young thing like you should think.”

“What? Are you a fuckin’ firefly preacher? Gonna tell me to look for the light?”

“Hell no, sugar. I just think it’s a shame. You look like a good kid, hard-working,” he pointed at your hands, dirty and bleeding from calluses. “Let me offer you dinner and a place to stay, hm?”

Here it was. 

“I… I know who you are.”

“Do you now?”

“Yes, and,” you cringed, eyes falling back to the rations in your hands, “I’m not going to be one of your birdies.”

Joel let out a hearty laugh, shaking his head.

“Now who told you that I’d want you to be?”

You felt stupid. The situation looked pretty simple in your head: a desperate young thing was found by a man with a certain amount of power and a ‘simple work’ proposition. You were the perfect birdie, weren’t you?

And then you remembered what you saw in the dirty cracked mirror this morning: bones, dry skin, and dark circles under your eyes that at this point looked like they were there forever. Who’d pay to fuck that? Damn, you’d have to pay men yourself. Embarrassment heated your cheeks and brought a new wave of tears to your eyes.

“Look, I’m just being generous here, okay? I’ve been in your shoes, so I’m offering last time, come with me and I’ll give you a good dinner and a decent couch to crash on. Nothing you don’t want to do and you can leave at any moment.”

“Why?” Your whisper was defeated, your grumbling stomach has already made a decision.

“Because I can.” 

He got up and went in the direction of the main road. You didn’t see his smile as he heard you shuffling and running after him.

Your walk to his place stayed quiet, he only acknowledged your presence by looking over his shoulder to check if you were still following him. You were.

You were so entranced with your thoughts that the sound of him turning the key and opening the door startled you. Joel let you in first. You didn’t know what you expected from Joel’s apartment. Dim lights, red sheets, the smell of sex and sweat? Anyway, whatever you expected was not what you saw. His place was closer to the outskirts of the QZ, it was a relatively small apartment with yellow wallpapers and sparse furniture. The first thing you noticed, though, was that it was clean. Not sparkling, but still way better than any place you’ve stayed the night since… ever. The air wasn’t stiff with the smell of old cotton or mold, the wooden table didn’t have stains of spilled drinks, and there was a couch in the adjacent living room. It was so normal that it felt weird. 

“Home sweet home, huh?” The man’s voice was calm and quiet, his lips decorated with a half smile. You nodded and pointed at the table. “Go sit down, rabbit. I promised you dinner.”

Your eyebrows furrowed at the nickname he gave you but you said nothing, crouching to take off your shoes, wincing at the thought of letting him see your ripped socks that might’ve been dirtier than your shoes. He followed behind, ignoring your unfortunate garment of clothing and going straight to the mini-fridge.

The wooden chair felt like a throne when you lowered yourself onto it, it was big and sturdy underneath you and you felt your muscles relax as you breathed out.

“Nothin’ fancy, I’m afraid. Just some good ol’ potatoes and a rabbit.” He said it as he pulled out a pan filled with enough food to last you for three full days and not feel hungry once. You felt saliva overflowing your mouth and gulped it down. “Ha, a rabbit for a rabbit, guess that makes you a cannibal.” 

He laughed at his joke, but your stomach growled so loudly you could barely hear him.

“Okay, one servin’ of mash and rabbit comin’ right up. Just let me heat it first.”

“You don’t have to..” You started to protest, not out of modesty but because you felt like you might faint or even attack him if he didn’t put that food in front of you. Hunger made even saints violent.

“You must’ve frozen your ass off sitting on that pavement, rabbit. Better give you something hot.”

His movements were quick, not a moment later the smell of food accompanied by the sound of crackling fat made you dizzy. He was fast enough to finally put a plate in front of you.

“Dig in,” he nodded when he saw your hesitation.

His words unleashed the hunger within you that you were barely able to tame all this time. The food - just plain mash and some rabbit, as he promised - looked like a three-course meal. Nothing has looked as appealing to you ever before. This type of food was a luxury, something you had never been able to afford. You remembered the pathetic scraps of jerky and a soup made of God knows what. This in front of you not only made your mouth water but also brought tears to your eyes. With an animalistic growl you didn't know you were capable of you did what Joel said, you dug in, fork in your hands scraping the bottom of the plate as you shoved food down your throat.

“Whoa, whoa. Slow down! That rabbit is already cooked, he’s not running anywhere, sweet Lord.”

Embarrassment washed over you. You imagined yourself looking like a hungry, mad dog, devouring the food in front of you with almost violence, barely chewing before it dropped into your stomach.

You looked at your almost empty plate and then at Joel’s, his was still half full. 

“Sorry.”

“No need to be sorry, rabbit, I know what hunger feels like.” He clenched his jaw too tight, chewing on the piece of meat. “Just don’t wan’cha to feel sick, ‘s all.”

You forced yourself to slow down, counting to twenty every time you took another bite, and Joel seemed pleased. You cleaned your plates in silence, the sound of nothing becoming usual between the both of you. When he got up to take your plate you squeezed the fork in your hand, as if you thought the man would attack you even if he didn’t give any indication of that whatsoever. His hand then lowered on yours, skin contact made you jump and squeeze the weapon harder. 

“Can I have my fork back? I only have two of ‘em.” 

Your grip relaxed and you nodded, something in his honey-smooth voice entrancing you, making you do whatever he says. It would’ve scared you if your alertness wasn’t blunted by a belly full of food and the warmness of his apartment.

After throwing everything in the sink, he came back to you, this time moving his chair closer and putting his hands on the table. You did the opposite, hiding your hands on your lap under the table.

“So,” he started quietly, not taking his eyes from you while you stared at the edge of the table, not daring to lift yours. “You know who I am.”

“Yes,” you nodded, your voice barely a whisper.

“And you, what, don’t like me? Afraid of me?”

“It’s hard to not like you after you fed me better than I have been my whole life,” you shrugged your shoulders. “I just don’t understand.”

“Don’t understand what?”

“Why…?” You tried to find the right words, but they all slipped your mind. “Why would somebody choose to do something they do? Why would you choose something you do?”

“Ah, I see,” he brought his right hand to his face, scratching his patchy beard. “Do you believe in love, rabbit?”

That was your first laugh of the day. The absurdity of his question caught you off guard and you couldn’t stop the merry sound rippling through your lips. When you lifted your eyes to him, your chapped lips were still stretched with a smile. He looked serious.

“Wait, are you serious? You gonna bullshit me into believing you’re selling fucking love or something?”

“Nah,” the shaking of his head made a few strands of his hair fall to his forehead and he swiped them back with a quick unconscious movement. “I provide people with the things they want but can’t get. With affection, with closeness. And you can’t get closer than sex.”

“Bullshit.” You huffed. The man sounded like a porn brochure if you had ever seen one. Disguising something dirty and wrong under fake metaphors. Caramel coating a rotten apple.

“I’m sorry?” He sounded irritated, something dangerous lingering in his intonation but you couldn’t hear your voice of reason.

“You take desperate girls from the streets and make them sell their bodies!” What started as a frustrated whispering ended up in a loud accusation. You didn’t know where all your bravery came from and was that even bravery? You must’ve eaten too much food and now it was cutting your blood circulation so your brain didn’t work properly. The man was more than twice your size, he could snap you in half with his one hand, and not a single prison in the world would go looking for a poor soul that had too many problems and too few solvings. 

“I take desperate girls from the streets, yes.” He agreed and tilted his head to the left, his hands in a lock on the table. “And then I make them food, give them a place to stay. And afterward, I offer them my help in the only way I can give it. If they don’t want it, they’re free to go.”

“So you’re telling me that if I wanted to get up now and leave and never talk to you again I could?” 

“That was our deal, wasn’t it?”

“And I do not owe you anything?”

“For a plate of mashed potatoes? No.”

You nodded, pushing the chair back with the back of your thighs you got up. Joel calmly watched you push the stool forward to the table as you stood behind it, your hands not leaving its wooden back. There were still questions. The main one was why? You couldn’t get it through your skull to understand it. To understand those girls.

“Why would they choose to stay? Why won’t they choose to do something else?”

Joel looked at you incredulously, as if you asked the dumbest question in the world and he was left finding an answer to it. His sigh was deep, broad chest inflating in front of you and you thought the denim shirt might not make it. “Because they can’t do anything else, because they don’t want to do anything else. Because I take care of them. Because they haven’t gone hungry ever since. Because they can afford new socks every week.” You clenched your feet, bare toe grazing his floor as he continued, “and because they’re free to go whenever they want.”

“I still don’t…”

He interrupted you, clearly being done with your infantility. “Have you ever had sex, rabbit?”

“What?!” You squealed, the question making your eyes pop out of your sockets, but Joel brushed off your theatrical reaction.

“So, no?”

“I did.” There weren’t reasons for you to tell him that there was only one guy, only one time.

“That bad, huh?” The man chuckled as if you just proved his thoughts right and he knew that all along. It was like he could read your mind. Terrifying, but you got defensive. 

“No, it wasn’t…” You stammered, but he interrupted you once again. 

“Sex is good. It’s warm, sticky, and wet. It is not like anything else. That’s why it sells so well.”

“It can’t always be good. Especially when you can’t choose your… clients.”

You tried to contradict every word he said, your desperate attempts to catch him in a lie, in deception, proved to be a failure. He knew what he was talking about, you could only guess.

“No, it’s not always mind-blowing orgasms and shaking legs, but for my girls, it’s always good. You learn to take care not only about your date,” you huffed at Joel’s choice of words, “but about yourself as well. You learn about the beauty of the process, without caring only about the result. My birds, they help people. Hell, this QZ would’ve been a much uglier place if not for them.”

He made it sound reverent like he was describing godly beings that graced the ugly undeserving world with their presence. His voice was soft, his eyes warm. You’d never seen someone talk so gently about such a crass subject. Joel looked like he loved them. Loved his birds, and actually cared about them. You wondered what it felt like to be taken care of, and was your body worth such a high price.

“Aren’t you going to ask me?”

“I thought you were leaving.” Joel raised his left eyebrow, and the dark abysses of his eyes stared right through you. 

“I…” Were you even good enough? What were you asking for? He answered those questions for you with his own, that put a finality to your doubts.

“Do you want to stay?” You knew he didn’t mean just the night. You knew your answer would change your life. It would change you.

“Yes.”