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joeloverture · 3 months ago

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girl next door tongue fucks dilfs ass | pervy!dbf!joel x f!reader

masterlist | notifs blog | tlou & palestine

pairing: pervy!dbf!joel x f!reader summary: a mix-up leads to joel finding your search history. turns out he wants a starring role in making the cheesy pornos you watch a reality. warnings: (18+ mdni) same joel as fair's fair, but you don't need to read that fic for context, age gap, porn without plot tbh, smut, degradation, humiliation, porn mentions, rimming/ass eating, exhibitionism mentions, f!masturbation, jerking joel off, joel calls reader kiddo, i wrote this in 2 days and had a blasst, asshole!joel gets his asshole eaten, cheesy title based on porn (sorry) word count: 5.2k a/n: was not expecting my last ass eating fic to be so divisive. sorry for writing another — it will happen again <3 thank you to @lovesickonmybed for curating the moodboard, sitting on the doc with me, and being wonderful in general. @ovaryacted & @joelsdagger for being ENABLERS. hope y'all like this <3 mwah mwah mwah. if there r any typos pls ignore i proofread a bit but im wiped out.

You’ve never been known for virtuosity. Growing up in the south, many of your classmates were raised with pewter purity rings beneath their knuckles and Mary Janes glued to their feet. You were the one all the sweet Catholic girls were forbidden to be around, as if your presence would ignite the Lord’s distaste. You never grasped why you were excluded from their birthday parties, never invited to playdates, or always talked about as a miscreant — but now, you think you might have a hunch.

Maybe those WASP moms could see through to the version of yourself that you are right now, taking full advantage of your time home alone. Phone in one hand, with your other shoved haphazardly beneath your lacy waistband to flick at your slippery clit. You whimper, hips rutting against the pads of your fingers, eyes fluttering. Heat ribbons through your veins and around your spine. You eye the trashy porn currently playing out behind your cracked screen protector — VIRGIN SLUT DEVOURS DILF’S ASS. You try to tell yourself it’s because the ‘virgin slut’ in question has your body type, but the DILF in question is… topical.

Three short days ago, Joel, your dad’s infamously perverted best friend, had finally taken the initiative to make things sexual with you. As much as he’d been smacking your ass lately and not-so-subtly eyeing you up, none of that cold hold a needle to the time he’d cupped the back of your head and shoved you face first into his armpit. You’d licked and sniffed at his musk until you’d come completely untouched. Later, you’d watched him fuck his own fist, back arching off of his mattress, and that’d been that.

Except… it really wasn’t just that. You’ve been glued to your phone watching the nastiest, raunchiest stuff you didn’t used to be into — until you’d imagined Joel being the one to do them to you. (Hell, you didn’t know wedgies and tickling were kinks. But you’d sure as shit stumbled across the pornstars making a living off of them.)

Rimming is the most recent of your fascinations. The star of this video, a beefy middle-aged man with thick thighs and a plump ass, is just as domineering as Joel had been. He’s on his knees with his ass up, body braced on one folded elbow while his other hand cups the back of the woman’s head. He holds her down as she whines, tongue circling around his asshole. The camera zooms in, capturing the little smatterings of hair along his cheeks. “Just like that. Get in there good, girl,” the DILF says. You whimper, closing your eyes and imagining it’s Joel saying that. Joel’s skin on your tongue. His hips hitching under your mouth. His thighs tensing as he paints his belly with cum.

A new surge of slick rushes down your fingers and you whine as your stomach tightens into a double knot of pleasure. You’re so close, teetering over that precious edg–

The doorbell rings.

Your dad wasn’t supposed to be home until five. It is midnight.

With a frustrated groan, you chuck your phone facedown and scrub your hand along your face. You tug your hand out of your soaked panties, breath still sawing in and out of you as you wipe your juices off your hand with a tissue from your nightstand. The doorbell rings again. “Jesus, I’m coming!” you shout. You should be coming. You shove your phone in your pocket and head downstairs.

You unlock the door between cluttered grumbles and yank it open. “You should have a key by now, dude,” you start telling your dad. Except it’s not your dad’s figure blocking the doorway, eclipsing the simmering Texan sun. It’s the very object of your degenerate fantasies — Joel Miller himself.

Joel had tried everything to avoid going to your place. He couldn’t even bring himself to look at your house, only able to think of the moment you two had shared in the garage. When he’d defiled you, right underneath your father’s roof. His eyes feel gritty from the thought, how all those degrading words had rolled off of his tongue like they belonged there. His best buddy’s little girl, licking and nipping at his fucking armpit. He squashed that thought quickly. The memory makes his blood rush south all over again.

When his phone ran out of juice as he was putting in a request for supplies he needed ASAP, he’d grabbed his charger. Except after he plugged it in, the battery only sporadically caught a charge. It made that irritating pinging noise repeatedly. He adjusted the angle enough times that he felt like he was taking measurements on a job site before giving up.

He prowled around Sarah’s room for a spare, except she must’ve stuffed hers in her duffel bag for her sleepover at Emma’s house tonight. After that dead end, he unplugged her galaxy light. It wasn’t the same shape. Port. Contact. Whatever the hell it is. He remembers vividly three years back when Sarah had seen some sort of viral video about making a charger out of a potato. She didn’t shut up about it for a week until he came home with two potatoes. One ended up as a failed charger, and the other had been dinner. With no spare wires in this house, Sarah at Emma’s, and every single store within fifteen miles closed for the night, it’s looking like he’ll have to wait for the morning.

Except he’s got a packed week. The prissy nepo baby’s ‘dream house’ he’s working on wants everything done quickly and well. She had them install the tiles for her kitchen only to decide when they were halfway through with the marble tiles that she wanted rose quartz. God forbid she throw another fucking temper tantrum.

Joel looked at the potatoes on the counter, then to your bedroom window. The lamp was on. He sighed.

He had never before wished potatoes could emit electricity, but he was now. Then, he’d toed on his Crocs and shuffled next door. He rang the bell, waiting with bated breath.

“Jus’ take your sweet time,” he says to your porch as he hears you thunking down the stairs. “Ain’t like the skeeters ain’t eatin’ me alive out here,” he grumbles.

“—should have a key by now, dude,” you say as you tug the door. You blink at him several times. He can see your shock through the screen door in the furrow of your brows. “Fuck are you doing here?”

“Real warm welcome for a neighbor,” Joel says, shouldering past the screen door. He scratches at the back of his neck, swallowing. He eyes the soft curve of your lips and the squint of your eyes. In the porch light, your sweat-slick complexion shimmers. You’re panting. Must’ve run a hell of a marathon to get down here, even if you were slower than a turtle. Unless–

No. He’s gotta get his brain outta the gutter, which seems to be his dick’s place of residence.

“My charger’s busted. Needa do some work stuff. Was hopin’ I could snag yours.”

“Well what if I’m charging my phone?”

Joel points to the suspiciously phone-shaped outline in your pocket. “Chargin’ your phone my ass. C’mon, do me a solid, I’ll owe ya.”

“You already owe me.”

“Yeah, for what?”

“That time I tutored Sarah when she had a C in–”

“Alright, alright. I’ll owe ya twice, how ‘bout that?” You roll your eyes and turn, already heading back for the stairs. “Wait,” Joel says, snagging you by your wrist. A week ago, he would have snapped your bra strap against your skin to get your attention. Now he feels nauseous at the idea. He’d already disrespected you so wholly once before. It’s not as if he has any further left to go. “Could I borrow yours in the meantime? Y’know… mine kinda takes a second to get some juice. I want to get a jump on looking for what my client needs.”

“That washed up producer’s daughter with five thousand Spotify listens per month? Yeah, dad told me about her. I’ll let you. But only ‘cause I pit you. She sounds like a nightmare.” You fish around for your phone, type in the pin, and smack it against his palm. “No snooping,” you say, holding a finger in front of his face.

“‘Course not,” he says. “Thanks, kiddo.”

You pull a face at that. Before he can apologize, you’re already halfway up the stairs.

Joel resists the urge to kick himself the entire way to the couch. He curls up against the arm rest. He hears you kicking and rifling about upstairs as he searches your phone for any sort of search engine. He wishes he would’ve brought his readers over, too, but that much foresight had been lost on him. Settling for squinting at the glowing screen, he taps on Chrome. A tab whooshes open. Immediately, Joel’s bombarded with artificial, keening moans, the ragged coaxing of, ‘C’mon, honey, doing so well for me’ blurring out of the speakers. His eyes widen as he scrambles to lower the volume. He’s about to slam the phone down and never make eye contact with you ever again when he spies the title of this particular porno.

VIRGIN SLUT DEVOURS DILF’S ASS.

Heat wobbles up his face, ripening his cheeks. His thighs warm and stir, enough to harden his far too attentive cock. Jesus Christ.

Did you mean to do this? No — you don’t have that kinda foresight. You’re crafty and a goddamn temptress, but that doesn’t make you some sort of mastermind who’s scheming to get back into his pants. If you were, though — this would be a good way of doing it. You must’ve been right there before he’d shown up on your doorstep. You had still been panting. His head hadn’t been in the gutter. He’d been right. Nasty little slut.

His eyes land on the woman who’s advertised as a ‘virgin slut’ but is about 100 videos past virginity if her channel bio is telling the truth. She’s built a lot like you — has the same shoulders, same hips. Her tongue hungrily swirls between the DILF’S cheeks. He’s pretty sure he knows who you’re imagining that to be.

They share the same skin tone, the same bow in their backs, the same scattered patches of hair along the backs of their thighs and cheeks. He envisions you with a hand stuffed in your dangerously tight shorts, rutting against it. Tongue lolling out as you imagine rimming him. He smothers a groan at the thought.

The video keeps rolling as he stares in disbelief. The man groans, spreading his cheeks wider and pushes back onto the woman’s face. She slurps his asshole. Joel imagines holding your head in place, stroking your jaw as you work your tongue on him. Your lips, your tongue, doing exactly what he just watched, but to him. His cock twitches at the thought of you between his legs, licking, sucking, wanting.

All his attempts to shut you out of his brain come bursting out of the floodgates. A dam breaking, fattening his cock.

Joel’s eyes flick to the stairs. He can still hear you rummaging around. Curiosity kills the cat as he presses your history button.

Naughty whore punished with ass eating humiliation. girl next door tongue fucks dilfs ass. DESPERATE BITCH BEGS TO EAT ASS.

It shouldn’t surprise him. After you’d finished licking his pits, you had a geyser in your panties they’d only found in Yellowstone before. You’re a fucking freak, and goddamn if it doesn’t make the gears in his head turn.

Joel adjusts his bulge, raging tight against his boxers. He swallows the newly formed lump in his throat. His stomach burns. The things he could do to you, if he were to let himself. You’re practically fucking begging for it. If he were to slip his hand along your abdomen, past the gusset of your panties, and cup your mound, would you already be ready for him? The way he’s ready for you?

Upstairs, he hears a loud bang, followed by a resounding “FUCK!”

After wrestling with your extension cord, you’d finally grabbed your charger for Joel to borrow. Not without escaping unscathed. A swollen pit throbs on your head, and you rub it absently with the heel of your palm as you trudge downstairs. “The shit I do for you,” you remark under your breath, shaking your head in disbelief. You plod across the living room, tossing your charger Joel’s way. “Can I have my phone back yet, Miller?”

He quirks a brow at you. “If you answer me a question.” You roll your eyes and cross your arms, planting your feet. This dick. “You usually get off watchin’ shitty three-star pornos?”

Cold slithers around your gut as you stare blankly at him. Oh fuck. Shit. Son of a– “Excuse me?” You’re an idiot. All hat, no cattle. Lights on, nobody home. Joel had seen–

“‘Virgin slut devours DILF’s ass’,” Joel reads out in a monotonous voice. He wolf-whistles. “A little on the nose, ain’t it? But hey, whatever gets ya goin’.”

“G-get the hell out,” you say, snatching your charger off of his lap. Your eyes stall on his straining, blatant hard-on. A new wave of slick spills out of you. You have to bite your tongue not to lick your lips. “You’re a fucking… pervert. Nasty. You’re nasty, Joel.”

“And you ain’t? Got a whole waterfall in those britches of yours, I bet. I mean, this guy looks a whole lot like me, don’t he? Got the DILF thing going on too. Yeah, you’d be into older men. Look at ya,” he all but croons.

You look down at yourself, gesturing at nothing in frustration. “I told you no snooping. Guess your selectively hearing ass heard go snooping.” You swing in close to snatch your phone, but he holds it out of reach.

“Answer the question, kiddo. You like watching porn all the time, or just when you’re tryna imagine your daddy’s buddy?” He smirks up at you. You make another grab for your phone, and you’re not sure why. The damage is already done. But Joel — Joel makes you feel so, so out of control.

“You’re being an asshole, Joel,” you say, too exasperated to police your word choice.

“Yeah, but you like eatin’ ‘em. Don’t you, sweetheart?” You sputter, dragging your hands down your face. As if letting him debase you in the garage, no matter how good it felt, wasn’t enough. This is ten thousand times worse. “Gotta say. You’re a ‘lil sick in the head for that….” He tuts at you, clicking his tongue.

“Not as sick in the head as you. Going through my search history. Taunting me about it. And— and— the whole pitcident.”

“Pitcident?” he asks, raising an amused brow. “Thas’ a new one.”

“Would you rather I say the whole thing? That you held your buddy’s daughter down against your musky ass armpit and made me lick it clean? That you liked it so much that you jerked yourself off after knowing I was getting an eyeful of it?”

His throat bobs. He seems to think about it for a moment before he tilts his head at you. “Kiddo, you woulda creamed all over me if I took a breath in the direction of your swollen little clit. Didn’t even have to do that to get that pussy droolin’ for me. Bet it’s doin’ it now.” He gets up, dropping your phone onto the couch cushion. It bounces before sliding against a throw pillow. “Tell me,” he says, voice low. “You touch yourself to this shit, honey?”

“Why?” you ask, holding eye contact with him in defiance.

“Seems like a waste… when you could be gettin’ the real thing.”

Your mouth goes dry. Uncontrollably, your cunt pulses between your legs. “Jesus, Joel–”

“Been wonderin’ since you put your mouth on my pit how your tongue would feel on my cock. On my ass…. Same thoughts as you, I’d bet. Yeah?”

You swallow, forcing breaths back into your too-tight lungs. “Yeah,” you say. “I… fuck.”

“Ask nicely, kiddo. I’ll consider indulging you.”

“Seriously?”

“‘S that what you want, kiddo? Want your pretty face between my cheeks while I laugh at you for how desperate ya are for it?” Your vision swims. Joel is heady, alluring. You can’t pry your eyes away from him. It’s easy to remember how you bent to his whims last time. “Yeah, thought so,” he hums. “Already in this habit ‘a mouthin’ off at me. Ought show some respect. Could be a whole lot meaner to ya. Or we could do this the easy way, sugar. Your call.”

Your face feels scalding hot, eyes watering with something like arousal. Your thighs clamp together, squeezing in attempts to get some friction on your neglected, weeping cunt. “Please,” you rasp, voice more animalistically needy than you’d expected.

Joel rolls his eyes. “You askin’ for the table salt or to lick my ass, kiddo?”

“Jesus Christ, you’re picky. Okay, your royal highness. Please, can I lick your perfect, majestic, incredible ass?”

Joel reaches out and grabs your chin. You whimper as skin prickles under his calloused touch. He presses his fingers into the hollows of your cheeks, teeth shelving against the insides of your mouth. “Like I said. Mouthy. I’ll fix that, kiddo. Probably won’t ever wanna open your mouth again after you get what you wish for.” He gives your face a light slap, hardly enough to feel the thud of his palm against your skin. Still, your head rings.

Joel grabs you by the back of your neck and shoves you down onto your knees. You grunt at the whirlpool of colors blurring around your head, at the wood grains of the floor meshing into your kneecaps. He stands, facing the back of the suede couch. “Go ‘head, kid. If ya want it so bad.”

You balk, staring at what you’re now face-to-face with. Joel’s ass, plump and thick and covered by his boxers and a thin layer of sleep shorts. He shuffles, sticking his ass out a bit.

“Don’t be chicken. Put your money where your mouth is.” He taps the back of your neck, urging you on. You tug at the stretchy waistband of his shorts and let them slide down to his ankles.

You scrutinize his choice of footwear. “Crocs? Really?”

“Do what you’re good for and kiss. My. Ass,” Joel says.

You probably should’ve expected that.

You lure his boxers down, breath hitching when you see how his cheeks come together. He’s warm, with a physique made for worship. Your mouth works as you swallow, mouth watering at the thought of getting your tongue in there. Instead of going for the throat, you start slowly.

You plant a kiss where his left cheek meets his thigh, tongue peeking out to stir at the soft patch of skin there. You press sloppy little kisses along the globes of his ass. One here, one there, a couple nearing his cleft. The very tip of your tongue pokes out of your lips to do a sweep of the inside of his right cheek. At this, Joel lets a breathy sigh out.

“Got a perfect fuckin’ mouth.”

“I know,” you quip. You lean in and take a deep breath of a scent that’s so undeniably Joel. He’s cleaner this time, not fresh off of the lawn mower. He smells more like the Dr. Squatch soap you’d usually find in a Walmart aisle. You know from visiting his house that his bathrooms are stocked with the stuff. It’s woodsy and outdoorsy, a gingery pine aroma that wafts up your nostrils. You sigh and nuzzle into his skin.

“Ain’t a Bath and Body Works.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you grumble.

“Like I said. Sick in the head, likin’ all this odd shit.”

You spit into your palm and reach around, giving his cock a quick pump. It twitches in your head. His head tips forward, groaning and shoving his ass closer to your face. You smother a laugh. “You like it too, old man.” As you tug your hand down, you give his balls a generous squeeze. Then, you reach to spread him proper.

You damn near get heart eyes as you eye his pucker. Tan and blending into the rest of his skin, wrinkled and in dire need of attention. You lean in and throw him into the deep end with a broad stroke of your tongue along his hole. His hips jerk, a stunned noise ripping out of his lips.

“Fuck. Yeah, attagirl.” You groan into him, starting to swirl your tongue around. It whorls around his hole. You sweep softly along the inside of each of his cheeks, spit dribbling down his skin and along his taint. “Knew you’d make a good ass wipe. ‘S what you’re good for. Cleanin’ me up…”

You whimper, legs squeezing together needily. Your tongue swoops along the bend of his hole. Your thumbs dig into the insides of his cheeks so you can really nudge your tongue in there. Shallowly, you fuck your tongue in and out of his hole. Joel groans, hips thrusting against your face. “Goddamn,” he says through a hiss. He looks over his shoulder at you. Your eyes are needy and lidded, tongue hanging out as you work it against him. “Look atcha. There ya go, kiddo. Needy ‘lil slut for me…”

You hum in agreement as you flick your tongue up and down, left and right. You bob your head, determined to work him up properly. You slobber all over him. Little whines and whimpers hitch out of your mouth as you slurp and suck on his asshole. “Oughta keep you down there all day. Fuck, looks like it’s right where ya belong. Nose squished under my balls, breathin’ in my musk while you drool all over my ass. Be nice, havin’ a little cushion while I watch some ball games, do my work.” He cuts off into a strangled moan when you thrust your tongue inside of him properly, swirling it as deep inside of him as you can get it.

You reach up to cup his balls, work your grip along his length, but he snatches your wrist when it’s halfway there. “Nuh uh, sweetie. Ain’t deservin’ of this cock. Gotta earn that privilege back after bein’ a naughty whore. Watchin’ all that porn. On your daddy’s WiFi. Got no shame, hm?”

“N-not my fault you left me high and dry–” you stammer out between kitten licks at his hole.

“Didn’t leave ya dry. Left you wetter than a fire hydrant. And if you wanna be high, I’m sure I could get a sex swing off ‘a Facebook Marketpla–”

“Jesus Christ, shut up and let me eat your ass.” He laughs, head hanging low towards the couch. You keep your palms splayed along his cheeks, baring him to you so you can pleasure him in a way that has long been foreign to both of you. He makes a choked noise as you purposefully twist and flutter the point of your tongue into his opening. His hips jerk, holer quivering around you.

“Goddamn, kiddo— shit, thas’ good…” he tapers off into a frayed moan.

Your thighs, spread against the floorboards, heat like furnaces. Slick drools out from your pussy lips, twitching and aching, needing so badly for him to fill you. You whine an unintelligible curse into his skin, hand fumbling past the elastic band of your shorts. Your fingers nudge past your panties, finding your clit wet and wanting from your interrupted session earlier. Your fingers work a slippery circle onto your puffy clit. A moan bends out of your lips as they work and suckle at his hole.

Joel cranes his neck over his shoulder, dark, half-closed eyes tracing your pathetic figure. You’re shrunken down on the floor as you serve him, so zeroed in on his pleasure. Yours is an afterthought, but your hips still chase after your wandering, fleeting touches. “Can’t believe this gets you off. Touchin’ yourself…. Does my ass really get ya this worked up?” He groans, grasping the back of your head and holding you into his cheeks. As if you’d ever pull away. “Someone’s gotta–” he exhales. “gotta get you a fuckin’ vibrator. Gonna rub that sweet pussy raw.”

You whine at the thought, tongue traveling lower to give his taint some attention too. “Shit. Thereeeee ya go. Embarrassin’ kinda kink to have, y’know? Oughta get you an audience. Some folks from work… Tommy too, maybe. Bet you’d come twice as fast and twice as hard.”

You nod in agreement, swiping your tongue all along his hole. Fingers snapping along your clit, a moan is drawn out of you. Languid strokes steadily quicken into sweeping jabs that leave his hips stuttering against the air, cock dripping pearls of precum onto the floor. “Hngh,” you whine into him, putting your full neck, head, and tongue into your efforts. Joel rocks back against you, rolling his asshole along your exposed tongue. You whimper, reaching up for his cock again with your spare hand. This time, you meet no resistance. You wrap your hand around him properly, stroking him in time with the circles you draw along your clit.

A flurry of curses sling off of his tongue, sharp and stunned by your vigor to bring him to the edge. Your lips lock around his asshole, sucking him, getting him there. Your thumb brushes along his twitching tip as your tongue slides in and out of his clenching hole. “This what you been wantin’?” he taunts, gripping the back of your neck. You keen in response, the noise vibrating along his ass. “‘Course it is. Pretty slut like you… meant to be on her knees with ass in her face.” His other hand slips back too, one around your nape and the other at the back of your skull, urging you to lick deeper, faster, more.

You whisk your tongue hungrily along his pucker, whining into him. Your fingers tweak at your clit, hips grinding into your hand with each upward stroke of your tongue.

“Shit, kiddo. Gettin’ me close–” he rasps. Your hand slips down to squeeze at his balls, middle finger slipping along his shaft. You let out a high-pitched whimper as your hips roll down to meet your hand. “Fuck, I ain’t the only one. You really gonna come from this?” he hisses, digging his fingers harder into your skin. You let out a piercing, whetted moan. “Embarrassing. Thought it’d take mo–” He cuts himself off with a moan. “Goddammit, more. But I shoulda known you’d be easy. Came just from grindin’ on your inseam last time. Jus’ call you a slut and let you lick me clean and your panties are done for.”

Your eyes water with humiliated arousal. You drip all down your fingers, feeling wetness leak down between your legs. “Joel,” you moan into him through gasping breaths and slithery licks. Your clit twitches against the pads of your fingers. Your pelvis jerks. With each clench, your cunt salivates along your fingers, wanting. All you can taste, feel, hear, is him. His musk on your tongue, his skin under your hands and his cock between your fingers, his moans ringing in the air like a song.

Joel grinds down your face. You lick up between his cheeks, landing another sloppy kiss on his hole. With a determined thrust, you twirl your tongue inside of him at the same time your hand twists around his cock. You know he’s coming from his sounds alone, something you’d been deprived of from just watching him across the street. You never would’ve taken Joel Miller to be loud in bed, but you are glad you are wrong. His whines and grunts heave out into the emptiness of the living room. “Fuck, hngh — good slut. Yeah. That’s my girl. Good ‘lil ass kisser. Gonna cream those fuckin’ panties for me like those girls do in your videos, aren’t ya? ‘S alright, kiddo. Come for me. Go ‘head.”

Your tongue works him over diligently, fingers scuffing along your clit until it damn near chafes. His noises, the way he grinds, his words are enough to send you plummeting over that edge. You’re suspended on the precipice of your climax as you hover in time, but then the pestle of your fingers presses against your cunt. You’re done for, spiraling as juices leak out of you. Tiny, hitching moans hiccup out of you. You repeat his name like a mantra, “Joel, Joel, Joel, Joel,” hand still wrapped around his softening cock. Your tongue hangs out, forehead pressed against his cheek. Panting in the comedown, in that warm-lit afterglow of release, you slump back onto your haunches. Your chest heaves, stomach unknotting from that peak of pleasure.

“Fuck,” you say articulately, looking up at him with glazed-over eyes.

“Fuck,” Joel says, in an entirely different tone. You follow his gaze to the back of the couch, splattered with pearly ropes of cum. Unable to stop yourself, you smother a giggle into the back of your hand. His panicked look only makes you giggle more before you burst into an entire laughing fit, clutching your gut as you wheeze at him.

Instead of fussing, Joel laughs too, shaking his head. “Goddamn, kid. You’re trouble.” He reaches down and squeezes your shoulder anyway. He bends down and tugs his shorts up, groaning as some of his bones snick from all of the bending. “Your dad keep any shock around?”

“Under the sink,” you say through your giggles, bracing yourself on your elbows. It takes until Joel comes back with an orange spray bottle and a rag that you manage to pull yourself up, dusting yourself off. You can still taste him on your tongue, a lingering musk that sits on your tongue. The bottle squeaks as it sprays foaming cleaner along the couch. You cross your arms and toe the ground, waiting for him to finish up.

“All that,” he says as he runs the rag under the faucet. “and we didn’t even plug my phone in.”

“Keep the charger,” you say. “I… think I have a spare. Somewhere. Besides. Won’t need to do another late-night viewing tonight.”

“Yeah,” Joel says with a content nod. “Guess you won’t.” He toes back on his Crocs that had come off somewhere in the fray. He runs a hand back through his hair. “Well, kiddo. Sleep well,” he says. “And get better taste in porn. You’re better than the cheap shit.”

You roll your eyes and wave him off. “Yeah, yeah. Goodnight, Joel.”

“Night,” he says, voice a tad stilted as he slips out of the house to go back next door.

Your eyes chase him down the sidewalk into his front door, then follow his silhouette upstairs until his lamp flickers off. When you head to bed, it’s with an entirely different type of video playing in your head — one starring you.

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edenspoem · 1 year ago

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CALLING ALL FANFICTION AUTHORS!

please reblog this. i've talked about this twice before, but obviously not everyone has seen it. i am calling for anyone who writes fanfiction or posts about a certain game/show/universe in any connective manner to please, please- PLEASE, copy this memo below comprising links to supporting palestine, education on the situation in gaza, and a must-need for those who engage in TLOU tumblr; links regarding the creators (neil druckmann) zionism, and how the plot of tlou2 is based on the israeli occupation of palestine. i don't care if what you write seems "insignificant" or "small" in the grouping of larger fics. no. everything that is not related to palestine in any form NEEDS these links. because, when we stray away from reblogging, or writing up our own posts in support of palestine/sharing journalists stories/etc. even for a SINGLE piece of writing, we could be missing people who are unaware (which, shouldn't be the case atp, but..) and fucking especially because in these fandoms, fics are the most popular thing. not reblogs about palestine, unfortunately; there are so many fanfiction accounts who very clearly don't give a fuck about the whole situation, seeping in silence, posting fics during strikes, not taking accountability for it now, so on and so forth. please, for the love of all that is good- CALL THEM OUT! people gaining hundreds of notes, tens of reblogs, supportive comments on a post that completely disregards what is happening SO BOLDLY right now, should irk you. i swear, if i see one more fuckass "i didn't know!" apology from an author who is CONSTANTLY on tumblr, REGULARLY posting fanfiction, i'm going to fucking lose it. if you are on tumblr to begin with, being this active- you have time to reblog. actually, educating yourself and reblogging is way quicker than writing up fanfiction of any length. are you fucking kidding me? you are laughable. comical, not real, and i have nay an ounce of respect for you. ever. but besdies that; the memo. i want everyone to copy this, or make something similar. put this above your summaries, authors note, whatever comes before the writing. every post you make should link back to supporting palestine, cause you never know how many eyes it will reach. it could change a lot of things. on pc, i believe copying it completely will preserve the links, but i'm not sure if mobile will. again. do whatever you can to add it. don't be lazy. put this in ur masterlists/navigation too.

for all fanfiction authors:

from the river to the sea, palestine will be free 🇵🇸

READ: this account stands with palestine, and so— i require everyone who interacts to educate themselves, and support/donate. READ THESE; 1 and 2, HELP HERE, BOYCOTT. silence is complicity, do not scroll past this.

for tlou fanfiction authors:

from the river to the sea, palestine will be free 🇵🇸

DO NOT BUY THE REMASTER, TLOU2, TLOU1, OR ANY GAME FROM NAUGHTY DOG! neil druckmann (the creator) is a zionist. PLEASE READ THIS. AND REBLOG THIS.

you may add what is necessary, i wanted to keep it short for attention span sakes, and to avoid people skipping it entirely, and so on. i may edit these, fix up anything, but again, if you're using them you can edit them however. as long as you are linking anything in general, that is what matters. thank you, love from aestra. from the river to the sea, palestine will be free 🇵🇸

#palestine #free palestine 🇵🇸#from the river to the sea palestine will be free #ellie williams x reader #abby anderson x reader #joel miller x reader #fanfiction #tlou fanfiction #ellie williams #abby anderson #joel miller #tlou #tlou 2 #author #writers on tumblr #authors

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asapeveryday · 28 days ago

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noctuary pt.1 - p.b + tlou au

noc·tu·ary ˈnäkchəˌwerē

: a collection of a single night's events, thoughts or dreams

—

pairing: Paige Bueckers x reader, slight Paige Bueckers x Ellie Williams in future maybe idk yet but just for plot purposes

AU: The Last of Us 2 x Wbb crossover

warnings: Graphic descriptions of injury, blood. brief mention of assault, cannibalism. more juicy stuff in later chapters probs

synopsis: you meet her on the brink of giving up. she’s suspicious, too nice, too charismatic. she should be a psychopath, or some sort of cult recruiter, but instead she’s enamouring. you’ve got nowhere to go, she’s eager to have nobody to be.

notes: I intend on making this a short series because I’m honestly obsessed w this crossover. also you don’t really have to know much about tlou to enjoy this, it works from a basic zombie apocalypse perspective too honestly!

also what wbb players would we want to see appearing in this story in the future?

You’re running—trying to run.

It hurts, it burns so bad, like you’ve been bathed in acid from the calf down. It’s dull pulsing that’s built up with every drag of your foot through the rough gravel roads.

You’re whimpering with every limp, lips bitten raw, face coated with sweat and grime. You can hear the faint clicking behind you, to your left and off somewhere farther to your right.

You’ve been following this trail for ages, bag on your back weighing heavy, trying to outrun clicker after clicker. No matter the turn, they just keep coming.

And it’s starting to look like this might be it for you.

It wasn’t meant to end up this way. It should’ve been a decent job—not easy, but something you could handle. Deliver the product, collect the payment, make it back alive, keep half.

But you’d been sold out, given a wrong location, led to your slaughter.

“Fuck,” you cry, saliva flying from your lips, “oh, fuck.”

You’re aching all over now, shivering with fear. Your heart is hammering like a strong baseline, shaking your very core.

This is it, this is how you’re going to die. Alone, a bag full of goods that nobody will every get to use, pockets empty.

You’ll be mauled right here, on this barren road.

Infected.

Turned.

You turn to look at your leg, the state of it. Skin peeled back, flesh running ruby red, blaring danger, death, the end. The sight makes you want to vomit. You stumble, hitting the ground hard. Your elbows are covered in gravel, it gets in your wound, mixes with your blood.

You can see them clearly now. Inhuman, monstrous things you’ve managed to avoid since birth, one way or another. None of it matters now. It all amounts to nothing.

You hear the crunch of gravel behind you, but you don’t bother to turn and see what abomination is waiting for you. You don’t think you can stomach it, facing one head on, feeling it’s flesh-rotten breath on your skin before it tears into your soul.

You focus on the one ahead. Approaching. Five steps before you, four, three now.

The crunch behind you swings ‘round your side. You flit your eyes to the ground, where the blood from your leg mixes with the road. You don’t want to watch when it happens happen.

I’m gonna die, You think, I’m gonna die, I’m gonna die, I’m gonn—

Beaten sneakers. Light purple, tied tight laces. Wide stance, heels facing you.

There’s the brief noise of something cutting the air.

You watch the ground as the clicker’s head hits the gravel.

The sound of slaughter fills the formerly quiet night. A crow caws from somewhere farther off, softly drowned beneath the squelches, and the sounds of metal flying through flesh.

And then the clicking is gone. And the movement stops.

The sneakers, now a little bloodier than before, turn around to face you.

Your slaughter doesn’t come.

You look up.

Powder blue irises, downturned, scrutinizing. Straight, dark lashes. Pale skin, dotted with rotten blood, blemishes, picked pores. Lips full, slightly parted.

She turns to the side for a second, checking her surroundings. You analyze high cheekbones, oily blonde hair pulled back tight into a ponytail. Her grey tank and cargo’s are spoiled with clicker guts. Sweat gleams on her skin, bloodied axe in hand.

She turns back to you, brows furrowed. Then she holds the axe out to your neck.

"You bit?" She asks, all business.

You shake your head no as best as you can without grazing the tip of the blade, heart hammering wildly.

"You're telling me that," her gaze dips down to your leg, "isn't a bite?"

"S-" You manage to croak, wincing as your throat sears, "saw."

"Saw?" She raises a brow. "It's from a saw?"

You nod. She takes a step back to survey the wound. Whatever it is that she sees, she's satisfied with.

“Get up.”

Her words sound like they’re underwater.

She looks around again, making sure it’s safe, before dropping to your level. Her legs bend into a crouch, one hand on her knee while the other grips the axe with a ready ferocity.

“I said, get up.”

Finally her words register. You stir, shifting your weight forward to pull yourself up, before a wave of exhaustion and pain washes over you. She notices your wince, the struggle.

She frowns. You can see she feels inconvenienced by you.

But she doesn’t leave.

“Give me the bag.” She says, jutting her head to motion to your back pack.

Now it’s your turn to furrow your brows. You can’t say much, the words catch in your throat. You manage to back up enough for her to get the hint, hands possessively flying back to grasp the rough material that you almost died for.

“It’ll slow you down.” She says evenly. “Pick. Either you leave it or I carry it for you.”

You weigh your options.

“Or,” she licks her lips, “I leave you here alone and keep it for myself.”

You hold her frigid stare for as long as you can before you realize she won’t budge on this. Slowly, you remove your arms from the straps of your backpack, and attempt to get up.

She springs back to her full height, stepping around you to grab the knapsack and swing it over one shoulder while her own is on the other.

“Jesus Christ, what the hell is in this?” She curses.

You shakily rise from the road, gravel stuck to whatever exposed skin hit it earlier. Silent.

“C’mon.” She side glances you, taking a few steps forward. “Don’t worry, I’ll have you talkin’ in no time.”

The walk is difficult.

The night is high now, and it's a struggle to keep your eyes open. You try your best sheerly out of the fear that if you let them shut, they may never open again.

She doesn't offer a hand, not an ounce of support. She just watches, eyes wide and frosted around the edges.

Her biceps pop against the moonlight as she shoulders two backpacks with ease, walking ahead of you. Just enough to lead while she can still see you.

You get the feeling that if she felt it was best to help you, she would. Her gaze isn't judging—moreso analyzing. Testing you.

You realize this walk is a test.

Under her dissecting stare, you can’t help but wonder for what?

"Little longer." She hums from ahead, smile barely grazing her lips. "Almost there, soldier."

You take it that if this is a test, you're not doing too bad.

So, you keep pushing. Your left leg is practically dragging now, heavy like baggage on your body. The gravel is damper here, you can feel it in the noises under your feet.

The girl stops walking, turning to face you. You're heaving now, throat dry and lips cracked to the point of bleeding. You haven't had water since this morning, and a lot has happened since then.

She surveys your state, brows furrowed in thought. She zeros in on your raspy breathing, your dirt-caked hair and bloodied calf.

"C’mon." She turns away, her voice a little softer now. You trail behind her as she breaks from the gravel road and steps into the surrounding fields of tall grass and cattails.

Mud squelches from beneath you when you realize you're at the foot of a pond.

The blonde takes off both backpacks, throwng them to the ground before kneeling by the edge of the pond. She unzips her own bag, retrieving a cloth from the big pocket and dipping it in the water.

Then she looks up at you, her blue eyes slightly warm, before cocking her head, gesturing for you to sit.

Cautiously, you obey.

The night is quiet with the exception of rippling water and crickets hidden in the cattails. You try not to whimper when she peels the remainders of your shredded pants from your left leg, and presses the wet cloth to your wound.

Her eyes watch closely at your reaction to every movement she makes.

It unnerves you, her attentiveness, her kindesss, of all things. It’s unlike anything you’ve experienced before. She cleans the gash off with such silent care that you’re entirely put off.

It doesn’t help that she keeps glancing up at you with those winter-light eyes, asking silent questions you’re too scared to answer.

"So," she begins, "what's in the bag?"

You send her the most pointed look you can muster.

"Aight.” She shrugs. “Secretive one, aren’t you.” She teases, reaching behind her to grab at your bag. In attempts to stop her you try to kick her with your un-injured leg. She catches your foot before it can even come close to hitting her, eyes wide with either amusement or warning.

"Easy." She hums.

It's quiet again after that. She puts more pressure on your leg, the cold water serving some relief to you. After a while the bleeding slows enough to leave the cloth draped over your injury, and you watch intently as she rummages through her backpack some more, before finally pulling out a flask.

"Prolly should've done this first." She snorts, opening the flask and taking a quick swig. Her face sours for a moment before the expression is gone, replaced by a lopsided smile.

"This is gonna burn bad." She looks at you. "But it's nothing you can't take."

When she pours the alcohol over your leg, it's like all hell has come down to personally punish you.

You can’t help but genuinely whimper when the alcohol touches your skin, the burning exemplified tenfold. Your hands fly to your leg, but the blonde grabs them in a tight grasp.

Her hands are calloused, large against yours. She entwines her fingers between your own, and you don’t even think to care. The pressure of her grasp is needed. When your hands leave here to grip her forearm, she doesn’t so much as flinch, even when your fingernails dig into her pale skin. She holds you tight till’ the burn subsides.

"I know," she mumbles, "I know it hurts, I know."

As you grip onto her flesh, she takes the time to ring out the now bloody cloth before soaking it in more lake water. It isntantly cools your skin when she gingerly places it on you again.

"I'm sorry. That's pretty much all I got." She sighs apologetically. "Wasn't expecting to run into any strays today."

You shoot her another look.

"Oh, you don't like that, huh?" She grins. "So what should I call you then?"

Her stare feels like two bullets through the back of your head. Startling, all too strong. You wet your lips in attempt to muster the ability to talk, but your throat is raw. You can feel scabs forming on the surface of your mouth.

Her eyes dip to your lips, then back again. She turns to rummage through the backpack again, and pulls out another flask, handing it to you.

"My bad." She mumbles.

You snatch it from her and unscrew the top, clumsily chugging from the flask with no shame. It’s like a beacon of light shining through your body, the water is lukewarm but clean and soothing. You don’t care that it dribbles down from the corner of your mouth as you hand the flask back to her.

Her face is amused, to say the least. Eyebrows raised, lips quirked upward. She takes it from you, fingertips brushing yours, and drinks the few drops you left behind. You watch as she licks her damp lips, and wipes her mouth with the back of her hand.

“You gonna talk now?” She cocks her head.

“Not much to say.” You respond simply, holding her eye.

You can see the way her tongue pokes the inside of her cheek, obviously trying to be patient with you. “You think I’m gonna let you off the hook like that?” She says.

“Thank you for saving me.” You manage to bite out, shifting in your seat on the grassy bank by the lake. “I’ll be on my way soon.”

“Yeah, sure.” She snorts, and you feel a twinge of agitation in your gut. “Good luck, on that leg.”

“Okay…” your gaze hardens, “so what exactly do you want from me? Because I don’t have any valuables, and I’m a pretty shitty fuck.”

“I’m not gonna assault you.” She deadpans.

“Normal people don’t help other people out of the goodness of their heart.” You tut. “And they definitely don’t waste supplies on weaklings. So you must be a rapist. Or a cannibal. Or both.”

“I’m neither!” She groans, hand on her head. “I found you. Thought I’d give you a hand. And where I’m coming from, water and fucking dishrags barely count as supplies.” She bites.

“And where exactly do you come from?” You raise a brow. You note her clothes, which are fairly nice aside from the drying cordycept blood, and her backpack, which is grimey but un-frayed around the edges like most are these days.

“Could ask you the same thing.” She smiles, like she’s caught you in a trap. “I found you being chased by at least 3 clickers, heavy ass bag which you’re protecting with your life, and leg cut open with a fucking saw.”

She has you there. You’re both quiet.

Then she gets up, brushing her pants off before looking down at you.

“C’mon.” She clicks her tongue.

“I think I’m good from here. Thanks for the help again.” You mutter, briefly happy she’s leaving before she grabs your bag.

“Hey!” You jerk, stumbling on your feet to reach for it. Your leg sears again, and you wince, losing balance. Her hands reach out for you, steadying your body before you can even attempt to catch your fall.

“Easy, baby.” She laughs. “You’re right, you know. I’ve been too nice.”

“Huh?” Your eyes widen, stomach lurching at what that could mean.

“I’m taking your bag.” She hums. “You don’t want me to touch it, so obviously it’s worth having.”

“No.” You bite, frustration rising despite the fact that her bare arms are still holding you up. You let your fingernails dig into her skin, but her expression once again doesn’t change. “I fucking worked my ass off for that bag. You can’t take it.”

“I can.” She shrugs. “And I will. Only thing is, I’m gonna be nice again and give you the option to come with it.”

You blink.

“I want what’s in here.” She hums. “But I think you’re worth dragging back home with me.”

You blink again, slower this time.

“What?” You manage to get out.

She rolls her eyes. “You’re gonna repay me by coming back to my community.”

“Fuck no.” You bite.

“Fuck yes.” She smiles. “I’m putting you to work. I know for a fact it’ll be better than whatever shady shit you were doing before…getting your leg hacked off with a fucking saw, for Christ’s sake.”

You ponder. It’s not like you have anywhere to be, like you have a home to go back to. That was over, especially if you came back lighter than you left. The saw wouldn’t be the end of it.

But this could be worse, for all you know.

“You have good clothes.” You state.

“More than enough to go around.” She nods, glancing at your thin, sweat soaked t-shirt and bloody pants.

You glance at the arms that you’re grasping onto, and you squeeze at the curve of her biceps. “You have enough to eat.”

“Uh..” She trails off, watching the way your fingers curl around her muscles. She swallows, hard, before nodding. “Food isn’t a problem for us yet.”

“Us?”

“Us.” She nods. “There’s a few hundred, I’d say.”

“All contributing?” You ask.

“As best as they can.”

You loosen your grip on her arms, realizing you’re feeling her up.

“How long is the walk?”

“Long.” She bites her lip. “We’ll take breaks.”

You stare into her eyes again. Crystal blue bullets, pretty lashes, wide eyed mirth just waiting to seep out.

It's either that or die alone out here. All signs point to yes.

——

Taglist:

@sweetbcgs @angelliicc

#fanfiction #paige bueckers #paige bueckers x reader #paige x reader #tlou #tlou2 #ellie williams #dallas wings #wbb x reader #alternate universe

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husbandjoel · 2 days ago

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first burn | tlou jesse pt. 2

pt. 1

summary: you made it to seattle after going against the council’s verdict on avenging joel miller

pairing: tlou!jesse x fem!reader.

word count: 2.6k

contents: violence, blood, death and description of corpses. pregnancy (not the reader), swearing, reader is consumed by guilt from every angle and minimal jesse — he’s not in this chapter which is a warning itself

a/n: pt 2!! this is literally a boring filler. there will be a pt. 3 after the finale and yk what happens 😤 again inaccuracies and i’m just doing my own thing for my plot just don’t look too hard into the theatre situation ;)

gif credit: @sobadbad

Seattle was in sight.

You had left the scene of Jackson Hole, Wyoming, when the sun met the horizon. You kissed Jesse the fondest of farewells and thanked your lucky stars he hadn't stirred from the pressure of your lips against his. Surprisingly, there weren't any early morning dwellers loitering on your route to the gate that wasn't manned as often and you managed to slip through with ease; Zombie almost giving your position away as he hoofed the gate with rage as you pulled it open.

Ellie, and Dina now, had made their exit at three in the morning. Your sleep was minimal, so you met them at the gate to bid them good luck — a smirk on your features as Dina stared you down to prevent any jokes that would come from your mouth about them sharing a horse.

She hadn't explicitly told you. But you had your suspicions.

It had been a relatively smooth ride from Jackson to Seattle, scenic with trees and sounds you of nature you wouldn't often hear in Jackson. For a moment, there was a stillness in your thoughts as you inhaled the fresher air as Zombie plodded along the dirt path.

Then, you saw them.

Paled, rigor mortis in effect as they laid amongst the fallen leaves with eyes open to the horrors they had endured. You clenched the reigns, not daring to leave the height of Zombie as you slowly passed a rotting corpse face down. Rifle slipped off of your shoulder, you held it close to your chest with your finger on the trigger in case of any surprises.

It couldn't have been Ellie and Dina, you thought. Ellie had a violence about her, but they would've have been able to clear them outnumbered.

It had been some time since you had encountered unfamiliar faces, your cushioned life within Jackson sometimes had you forgetting there was a whole world beyond the walls. Your brows furrowed, the clean scar on their face, it made you think what sort of history was behind them. Now, you wouldn't know, but there was a sense of uncertainty of why they were killed, left to rot in the open as flies picked at their flesh.

Your nose tucked into the crease of your elbow, the stench of death poisoned your senses as you kicked for Zombie to put some distance between you and the dead. The sign for the direction to Seattle embedded in wood, you wretched as you took the path, your eyes flitted over your shoulder to take one last impulsive look at the man face down in the dirt. They deserved a burial, whoever they were, but you were one only person. And you had an ulterior motive.

The sun had begun to dip, when you had arrived in Seattle.

Skyscrapers above the skyline, collapsed buildings covered in nature that retook what humanity once stole from it. It looked like an idyllic utopia for someone with little knowledge as to what would unfold within the streets between Ellie, Dina, you and the W.L.F.

You wouldn't rest until blood was shed in return for Joel Miller's brutal death.

Zombie, the Appaloosa that you had eventually grown fond over, hoofed at the dried ground, muscles tensing from the flies that landed on his fur. You leant down and patted his neck, heels gently pressing into his sides to signal for him to walk on.

It felt a little unnerving, entering Seattle under the light of the sun, not a single shed of protection aside from your gun. This was far from the patrols in Jackson, and until you found Ellie and Dina; you were riding this out on your own.

You had experience. Trained by Jesse to build up stamina in a one-to-one combat if it ever came down to it. Stomach turning as you thought about his reaction to finding the little shack you lived in empty, a note of apology left on the table for him because he would ransack the Commune to find you.

Maybe you'd have to fight him if he followed you to Seattle. You didn't doubt it.

On high alert, Zombie walked through the city nonchalantly whilst you scanned each building for any sign of life — or death. You were sure that if the W.L.F. held Seattle, they would've cleared out as much infected as possible; leaving you an easy pathway if you didn't run into each other.

Ellie and Dina promised to leave subtle breadcrumbs, hard to predict what path they would've taken in such a large city, but it was clear that kindred spirits think alike. A keen eye for trinkets, a small wooden sculpture of a lion, unfinished, sat upon a windowsill of a run down shop.

It piqued your interest, Zombie's reigns pulled as you guided him toward it. Swinging your leg over, you jumped down from the height of the Appaloosa, eyes narrowed as you looked at the chicken scratch carved into the base the lion sat upon.

STRENGTH. J.M.

"That's a breadcrumb if I've ever seen one, Zomb." You mumbled and showed the horse the woodwork, his lips lifting to take it into his mouth before taking a step back — irritated it wasn't an apple. You rolled your eyes, hand in satchel and pulled an apple for him, "These are rationed whilst in Seattle. Pick your times to eat 'em."

He took it with ease and you turned the lion in your hands, a sense of sadness cooly washed over from head to toe. It must've been one of Joel's unfinished projects that Ellie had snatched up. He had spoken briefly about his hobby to you whilst on a morning patrol, passionate about the skill and you seemed to take interest in his conversation.

At one of the Potlucks, he brought an owl he had worked on to show you. You praised his talent and he genuinely smiled.

And Jackson voted no for a man like Joel Miller.

Quick to shove it into the space in your satchel, you peered into the shop's broken windows, to see it empty. You were sure if Dina and Ellie had resided there, you would've caught a glimpse of them by now.

You'd have to keep your search going.

Jumping back onto Zombie, you gathered the reigns in your hand and thumbed the strap of your gun over your shoulder. It was eerily quiet, nothing quite serene like the Jackson Commune where imminent threat would be met with a carefully executed plan with gunfire tenfold. At any given moment, your months of training would be used in a real world scenario and you could only have hope that your fight or flight chose fight.

There were minimal breadcrumbs in sight, a light scatter of obvious signs that Ellie and Dina had passed through and you were certain that calling to them on the radio channel would stream an influx of W.L.F. in your direction. By time you reached a theatre that, if clear of infected or W.L.F, it would be a moderate resting place whilst the dark sky loomed overhead.

"I know you hate confined spaces," You argued with Zombie as he pulled at the leather reigns in your hand, his body recoiled from the sight of you guiding him into a building. You huffed, teeth chattering from the cold rain, and when you pulled out an apple, the horse stopped pulling altogether. "Yeah. That's what I thought. Get inside, you greedy beast."

Head poked through the door, you peered into a wide open space. You had entered to the back of the theatre, presuming it was the backstage of the building and the — once was — entertainment was further inside.

Lightening hit close and illuminated the room from the blown out windows for a brief moment. Your skin crawled, no evident threat or silhouette exposed by the striking light outside, you slipped in with Zombie in tow. The horse chortled and you jumped, throwing a finger to your mouth as if it would comprehend the imminent threat brought by noise.

Reigns dropped, you fed the apple to Zombie as a reward for his bravery to obedience before you slipped your gun from your holster, sweeping the area as you stepped through quietly. Heart stammered, you were quick to remind yourself of the attack on Jackson. The horde pulling the walls down, desperate to eliminate any human that crossed their path. You could remember the split of the face, the fungi that flourished from their heads, mouths ripping at the flesh of the unfortunate souls.

Your nightmares fuelled by the devastation they had left in their wake.

You took a moment to realise that Jesse would have eased your built up tension, hand to the back of your neck as he encouraged you to put your foot forward first. Take control of the situation. Because, in the end, he would have your back; something he promised when your lips connected, souls bound together between the bedsheets.

Lip wobbled, you initially felt silly. Sweeping a potentially threatened area whilst you blubbered over your boyfriend back in Jackson. You were — and always had been — a bigger definition than just your relationship to Jesse. However, it didn't stop the tears silently shed as you cleared the backrooms of the theatre. The fullness tears that brimmed your waterline soon shrivelled at the fright of muffled voices toward the front of the building.

Shit. You ducked as if they had sights on you.

If it were the W.L.F. it didn't matter what one-to-one combat skills you had earned over the months of endless training, you would be outnumbered and shot dead. Your head turned back to the door you had shuffled quietly through, thoughts of hiking back up on Zombie and making a quick escape before a bullet met the softness of your brain.

In trepidation of your own death, your boots cemented into the plush of the blood red carpet, your eyes widened, forefinger holding the lightest of pressures against the trigger. You could definitely pick off one of the soldiers, if you were quicker than them.

Their voices grew louder and there was a change in the thickened tension of the air that suffocated your lungs.

It was fucking Ellie and Dina.

You almost collapsed to your knees to thank the skies above for the turn of luck on your end. Gun holstered, excitement threaded in your veins, a smile — considering the circumstances — broke out onto your face as you watched the silhouettes dance against the frosted windows on the doors.

Cold hands went to push at the swing doors.

"I think I'm pregnant."

You gawked, your movements faltering.

Dropped to the ground to hide yourself, you could make out Dina's muffled voice as you pressed your good hearing ear flush against the cold wood of the door that concealed you. Your forehead creased from your concern, you took a moment to digest her words.

"What?" Ellie sounded perplexed.

"Don't worry, it's not yours." Dina joked, the silence felt cold.

Realisation hit you as Ellie began to outwardly panic, her somewhat contained anger explicit toward Dina and her news. Back leant against the door, your ears rang at the conclusion you had equated: Dina was pregnant with Jesse's kid.

There was a morally grey area between the overlap of yours and Jesse's relationship and his and Dina's. It had been on the tip of your tongue whenever all three of you were in the same spot, to ask them what exactly they were because the nights spent at Jesse's became increasingly guilt ridden when you often stayed awake thinking about how Dina would lay in the exact same spot as you.

Of course, Jesse was quick to assure that his and Dina's flakey situation was over long before you had sealed the stamp on the commitment of your relationship. Dina showed no sign of alarm when Jesse kissed you in front of her for the first time — in fact she grinned. That didn't seem to wave a red flag in your direction, but now you weren't so sure.

Dina was pregnant.

You desperately gulped away the cotton feeling in your mouth, a hand swept down your face as you retained selective information — imagination running wild. It would simply have to be pushed to the back of your mind as you reunited with Ellie and Dina on your escapade. After all, if it hadn't been for your eavesdropping, you may have never found out.

Door opened, Dina jumped from the couch and cocked her gun in your direction. Luckily, the trigger wasn't pulled with your hands up in a meek surrender. Angsty, Dina squeezed her eyes shut momentarily before attempting a rather feeble smile.

You were sure you were the last person she wanted to see right now.

"Hey." She let out a hearty sigh, her eyes drifting to where Ellie had stormed off and then back to you.

Impulsive, but you flickered your gaze to her stomach that she held subconsciously, it was brief and you thought she may have caught it but her face showed otherwise. Comedic timing wouldn't work in your favour with the tension so palpable in the air. Offering a sarcastic congratulatory hug could be viewed as tone deaf.

Dina was still a valued friend. You just weren't sure if she was fucking your boyfriend on their joined Patrol days.

"Where is Ellie?" You feigned naivety.

"Oh—She went to secure this place. . . Have you been here this whole time?" Yes. You shook your head along to your lie, and Dina looked as if she could've jumped to the skies from relief. She added, "I'm glad you're here."

"Me too." You swung your rucksack off of your shoulder and dropped it to the ground, "I heard some commotion close by. I wasn't sure if it was between the W.L.F. and the others, or if it were you two. Although, they're pretty open on their radio channels, so, it was easy to figure out."

Dina laughed softly, "Yeah—"

You spared her a look, "Is everything OK, Dina?" She jumped at your question, as if you had pointed the barrel of your gun at her chest. It was quick to vanish from her face as she swallowed the hardened lump in her throat with a hesitant nod. You wouldn't prod, but you added, "Alright. You can speak to me, if you need to. This mission isn't lighthearted. It will take its toll."

Dina looked as if she had mulled a debate over in her head against herself. You were relatively talented at picking up on body language, fast enough to watch her fingernails pin into the flesh of her palm; knuckles white from withholding herself and her secret.

Her lips quivered and the atmosphere changed. Oh. She was really going to tell you.

"Dina—!" Ellie's familiar tone snapped through the air and you watched as Dina recoiled from opening up. Feet thundered, the brunette came into view, green eyes met yours as she heaved a breath, "Holy shit. How the fuck did you get here?"

"Through one of the entrances at the back." You shrugged.

Hands placed on her hips, Ellie nodded, "Fuck—I seen Zombie and thought the worst. He tried to fucking bite me, by the way."

You threw a peanut you had saved from a food pack into your mouth, "What can I say? He craves human flesh. Are you OK?"

"Huh?" Ellie furrowed her brow, "Oh—Yeah." She glanced at Dina, "Peachy. We're setting up shop here tonight, gather some intel and then head out when we know the basis of our next moves to find Abby. Or at least one of them."

Abby.

You hadn’t heard the name of one of Joel’s killers until that moment and Ellie picked up on your change in expression.

“I’ll explain everything to you.”

taglist:

@beelee-cotton @lostbee20 @pupupwa @ilovetoomanymen - tysm for reading!

#🔖 koolie writes #the last of us #tlou #tlou2 #tlou spoilers #tlou jesse #tlou jesse x reader #jesse x reader #the last of us fic #jesse x fem!reader #ellie williams #dina tlou

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ozarkthedog · 1 year ago

Text

𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐰𝐨 𝐥𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐬

summary: you join Joel and Tess mid fuck.

warnings: 18+ mdni. joel miller x afab!reader x tess servopoulos. pwp. established throuple. pussy stacking. lots of fluids and rough sex. no beta. w.c. 1.7k

author's note: no real plot, i just wanted to smash them together. the title is too sweet for this fic but it fits.

-> IMPORTANT as tlou is made by a Zionist, as well as part 2 being based on the oppression of Palestine by Israel, I urge you to educate yourself in the light of the genocide happening in Palestine, specifically Gaza, right now. I cannot in good conscience post for Joel & Tess without bringing awareness to the horrific things that have been going on for 5 months.

☽ 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭 ♁ 𝐋𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 ♁ 𝐉𝐨𝐞𝐥 𝐌𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭 ☾

You climb the stairs to your apartment, feet dragging like lead weights after a long day. As you slide your key into the lock, faint moans slither beneath the door. You smirk to yourself.

The obvious sound of flesh slapping against flesh meets your ears as you enter your tiny studio apartment. Joel snaps his hips, leaving them flush against the back of Tess’ thighs as she’s splayed across your bed, her legs bent at the knee over his elbows as he turns his head with a furrowed brow.

“Look who’s home,” Joel grunts, turning his head with a furrowed brow, a warm grin tugging at his lips.

Tess’ bliss-drunk eyes find yours. “Mhmm, sweetheart.” She reaches for you. Long, warm hands encompass your own. She looks like a goddess; her hair fans around her head like a crown while being praised with the utmost devotion by the man buried between her legs.

She pulls you into a fierce kiss, cupping your jaw with her hands and sliding her tongue along your bottom lip. The kiss breaks as a wrecked moan tumbles from her mouth when Joel grinds his cock just a bit deeper into her cunt, smothering her clit with this pelvis.

Joel juts his chin at you, his eyes trailing down Tess’ sprawled form, while his hips never miss a beat. Nothing ever needed to be said. The three of you move in sync, much like on the QZ streets. Stoic glances, pointed brows, and curt nods are enough communication.

You watch with intrigue as he fucks her into the mattress. Her body bends like a bow as she takes his cock as deep as it will go.

You couldn’t undress fast enough. Your ankle catches on your jeans, and you tumble onto the bed with a soft oof. Tess softly laughs, and Joel chuckles under his breath, but they carefully watch as you take your place between them.

Tess gasps and digs her hands into your sides as you slide your naked body over her quivering one, your knees sinking into the bed on either side of her hips. You weave a hand into her hair, keeping her still as pleasure races through her. You brush soft kisses down her naked chest, mouthing the soft plump of a breast while kneading the other with your hand.

You suck a nipple into your mouth when she arches her back, teething the tender bud while Joel roughly thrusts his cock into her heat. You smirk into her skin as she writhes from your dual assault. Having a powerful woman in such a vulnerable position made your head dizzy and cunt throb.

Your body jolts on every savage shove as Joel fucks her. She lifts your face from her chest, finds your mouth again, and lays a branding kiss on your lips. Her body squirms beneath you, rubbing and caressing your curves together while her hands encompass your ass. She palms at you, pulling you apart for Joel while he ravages her. She knows he can never resist you.

You hear him curse, a deep gravely, “fuck”, and it lights a bright blue flame in your belly.

A warm dollop of spit lands on your crack. Joel hums at his aim and watches his spit drip down your wrinkled hole and onto your pussy. It mixes with the slick that’s already spilling from your shiny folds. A low growl tumbles from his throat at the sight. “‘aven’t even touched you yet an’ you’re already a drippin’ mess.”

His devious tone forces a lithe whine from your parted lips, and you can’t help but arch your back toward his sturdy belly, grinding against it. “You achin’ for it, huh, pretty girl?” He never misses a beat, continuously fucking Tess while dirty talking you up and getting you more and more greedy for his cock. He spanks your ass with a large, mighty swat. “Be good and wait your fuckin’ turn.”

His thick, hairy belly bounces against your ass on each shove into her cunt. Tess shivers, a sensuous moan echoing around you as she creeps closer to the edge. Her dewy chest flushes, her nipples pucker, and her hold on you grows tighter.

“Yeah, that’s it. Fuck.” Joel groans, feeling her clamp around him. She’s on the brink, slowly tipping over the edge, when Joel halts his hips and withdraws.

The woman beneath you gasps. Eyes fly open, angry and ferocious, like she’s threatening someone who’s done her wrong. “What the fuck, Joel?” She seethes, lifting her head to look at him over your shoulder. You layer kisses along her collarbone, hoping to defuse the tension and whatever Joel was up to, just as you feel a warm, bulbous tip tracing along the dripping slice of you.

You inhale sharply and match Tess’ shocked expression as you look back over your shoulder. Joel licks his lips with a teasing tongue before angling his hips and thrusts forward.

“Oh, fuck.” You hiss. Your velvet walls encompass his girth, spreading and molding to his shape. “What a tight fuckin’ cunt.” He grits, gripping your hips and pulling your body until you’re flush against his svelte hips.

The twinge of pain burns your insides as his dusty pink crown nestles against your cervix. It feels like he’s in your belly. He’s so massive, just waiting to burst from the seams. Just as you take a deep breath, he punches it from your lungs with a harsh thrust. It pitches you forward further into Tess’ arms.

Tess holds you steady as Joel takes you from behind, grunting like a wild animal. His eyes rarely leave where you’re connected, watching with immoral intrigue as he fucks you with his cock that’s still stained with Tess’ cream. He sheaths himself deeper and deeper until you're dripping down your thighs, and his sticky balls wetly smack against your clit.

Tender, warm hands cradle your face and softly thumb the apple of your cheek, starkly contrasting to how Joel treats your body. “How’s he feel, sweetheart?” she purrs, eyeing you curiously.

You can barely think; the sickly, sweet rapture consumes your entire being. You reply with a garbled mess of moans. “That right?” She laughs, a deep, dark timber rumbling through her chest at your dumbness. She trails a hand down your body and dips between your legs, toying with your soaked clit. She rubs soothing circles around your bud in time with Joel’s thrusts, sending you careening head-first into bliss.

“Look so good being fucked by us.” Joel says, smacking your ass.

You’re close to igniting as the pair take you apart. It's a devastating mix of Joel’s massive body pummeling against you and Tess’ powerful aura. Your cunt spasms and tugs his length as he cants his hips, driving harder and harder until you’re on the brink of euphoria when he withdraws.

You choke on the air in your lungs. Brows tightly pinned together as you stare back incredulously at the man. He holds your stare and winks. “Gotta wait your turn, baby.”

You whimper as he gathers Tess’ legs back into his hold. “She made a mess of my cock, Tess.” He grunts as he breaches her slick hole once more. “Feel how wet she is?”

Tess hisses as he fills her. “Fuckin’ dreched,” she murmurs into your hairline as you lay against her chest. Your hands busy themselves with her breasts, plucking her nips with nimble fingers and laving at her pert buds. It’s a helpful distraction from the immense throbbing between your legs.

You watch as Tess' face twists with pleasure, the kind of bliss that feels like butterflies are flying around in your stomach when they make you watch from the side of the bed as they fuck, teasing you until you’re a blabbering mess, and only they can soothe your aching need.

Joel’s hips slam hard against her thighs on every shove. Her moans become louder and more frantic the faster he goes; she’s desperate to take whatever he gives her.

As your tongue swirls around one of her nipples, her body locks up. Joel grunts, muttering swears as he falls out of rhythm when a wicked, blissful moan slithers from Tess’ lips, and she comes around his cock.

You can’t help but moan at the sight; you love it when she allows herself to be so open and vulnerable.

Tess opens her eyes just in time to watch your face contort with ravenous desire as Joel spears his cock into your cunt. “Thatta girl.” She whispers as Joel bends at the waist and splays his back over yours, pinning you between their two bodies and effectively trapping you until they let you free. Not that you ever wanted to be free of them.

His mustache bristles your cheek. “Can feel how badly you want to cum, pretty girl.” Joel grits, plunging his length deeper and harder than the first time. “Your sweet pussy is just aching to milk my balls.”

It’s obscene how wet you are. Between your creamy arousal and Joel fucking you with Tess’ you’re all but dripping the combined fluid onto the sheets. It’s depraved and so fucking filthy.

“Look at you all cock dumb.” Tess moans, softly cupping your jaw with a crooked smile. “What a fuckin’ sight.”

Something white-hot blazes in your belly. You beg and plead; your pitiful cries echo in the small room, wanting them to pull you apart and piece you back together.

“Gonna make a real mess of you,” Joel informs, curling a hand around your throat and savagely tugs you back onto his cock. “Fill you to the brim. Mark you from the inside.”

Your pleasure ignites at his obscene words, swirling your cunt around his length and dragging him to the edge with you. His fingers dig into your hips. A dark growl rumbles deep within his chest. He fucks you full of his spend, finally adding to the combined, heady mixture, not stopping until he unloads every drop.

Your front half collapses onto Tess’ chest, strung out on dreamy bliss and still full of Joel’s cock as he catches his breath. He withdraws slowly with a hiss, and it’s like a dam has cracked. If you could feel shame, you would as your cunt profusely leaks the gluey spend from your swollen folds.

Joel curses at the sight. He drags his finger through the mess before lapping at it. You squirm as his warm, wet tongue drags up your soft curves and tickles your thighs. He contentedly sighs as he cleans you up while Tess smooths her fingers along your spine, lulling you into a sated sleep, taking care of you like they always do.

feel free to scream at me -> 💌

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#joel miller #tess servopoulos #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader x tess servopoulos #tess servopoulos x reader #tess servopoulos x you #pedro pascal #anna torv

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