#tlou fic

[ellieslittlewh0re]

Please write some skin to skin with Ellie. I need a break from her strap!! Whew <3

yes!! I totally understand where your coming from 😩 I miss the good ol fashioned bumpin & grinding 🩷

𝖺/𝗇 𝗂 𝗁𝗈𝗉𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖽𝗈𝗇𝗍 𝗆𝗂𝗇𝖽 𝗂 𝖺𝖽𝖽𝖾𝖽 𝙨𝙤𝙢𝙚 𝗉𝗅𝗈𝗍 <𝟥

𝑺𝑲𝑰𝑵𝟐𝑺𝑲𝑰𝑵 𝒆.𝒘𝒊𝒍𝒍𝒊𝒂𝒎𝒔.

જ⁀➴ 𝐬𝐲𝐩𝐧𝐨𝐬𝐢𝐬 𝖺𝖿𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝖺 𝗉𝖾𝗍𝗍𝗒 𝖺𝗋𝗀𝗎𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗇𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝖻𝖾𝖿𝗈𝗋𝖾, 𝖾𝗅𝗅𝗂𝖾 𝗐𝗈𝗄𝖾 𝗎𝗉 𝖻𝖾𝖿𝗈𝗋𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖿𝖾𝖾𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗒 𝖻𝖺𝖽 𝖺𝖻𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗂𝗍 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗐𝖺𝗇𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝗆𝖺𝗄𝖾 𝗂𝗍 𝗎𝗉 𝗍𝗈 𝗒𝗈𝗎 <𝟑

જ⁀➴ 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬 𝗍𝗋𝗂𝖻𝖻𝗂𝗇𝗀 (𝖽𝗎𝗁), 𝗌𝗆𝗎𝗍 & 𝖿𝗅𝗎𝖿𝖿, 𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗆 𝗄𝗂𝗇𝖽𝖺

It was still early in the morning, the sun just barely breaking on the horizon, and dew drops stuck to your shared bedroom window from the summer humidity.

Ellie stirred awake, rubbing her eyes as she adjusted to creeping daylight, and then she saw you. Your bare shoulder, and how the light highlighted your silhouette, all the way down your bare sides.

She felt bad of course, after a night where she let her jealousy and insecurities overwhelm her, she ended up saying some things she regretted- things she didn’t mean.

Her hand caressed your shoulder, and down your arm, you were still asleep, but she didn’t intend to let it last long.

She loved you, cared so deeply for you, and you just made perfect sense to her.

Maybe it was her insecurities talking again, but she had to make it up to you, now.

She scoots closer to you on the bed, her bare chest on your back, and her arm wraps around your front, her lips now on your shoulder.

This is when you start to finally wake up, her restless kisses making it impossible to ignore.

You hummed as your eyes blink open, and you quickly remember last nights events.

Sure, you were still upset. It wasn’t unforgivable, but you wanted to make her work for it.

“Baby?” She said, quiet and a little rough, and you ignored her, tucking your face away further into the pillow so she couldn’t see your face.

Another kiss is felt on your shoulder, and then another one a little higher up, and they kept coming until her lips were in the crook of your neck.

“I’m sorry.” She whispered into you, her warm breath making the skin on your arms tingle.

You extended your neck, giving room for her to continue her surge, and a smile kept onto Ellie’s lips, knowing that not only you were awake, but you were inviting her.

Her soft pecks turned wet, her tongue sliding across your skin until it turned into gentle suctioning, and her hips perfectly snug.

You hum again as Ellie’s hand finds your breast, gently rolling the fat between her fingers, taking extra caution around the sensitive nerves.

Her breathing starts to pick up in your ear as her hips are rolling into you, grinding her cunt into your ass, and her hand also became more frenzied, finding its way into your panties, and sliding a index finger between your sticky folds.

You moaned in response, eyes still shut, and wrapping a hand around to pull on the back of her thigh in need of more.

Luckily for Ellie, you didn’t make her work nearly as hard as you should have because her boxers were growing increasingly tight and uncomfortable, sticking and clinging to her cunt as she continued to hump you from behind.

Boby parts begin to stick, her forehead resting on the back of your shoulder, and her thighs against yours. She was relentless with her wrist, but the angle wasn’t favorable.

You’re rolled onto your back, and she’s climbing on top of you, finally abling a kiss, all the while using one of her hands to slide her boxers down the length of her legs, not bothering to take them the rest of the way off as they dangled from one of her ankles.

Your eyes opened the rest of the way, seeing her as she lowers her lips to your chest, planting open mouthed kisses, and you whine as the kisses turned brutish- sucking, and her teeth grazing your nipple as she pulls away.

She gets lower, her bottom lip ghosting the pudge of your lower stomach, “Can I?” She asks, so sweetly, and so unsure, wanting nothing more to get closer to you in any way possible, but never fully satisfied.

You nodded, and it took her no less than a second to hook her pretty fingers around the hem of your panties, pulling them down and tossing them elsewhere with little importance to neither of you.

It started sweet with the trail of kisses up your inner thighs, her warm hands hooking around you, and all her adoring vows spewed between the flicks of her tongue.

See, Ellie loved you- loved fucking you, but it was one of this mornings where her growing itch was starting to physically ache.

She lifts herself, and in your dazed-out haze, you give her a look of confusion, but she’s pulling and pushing at your legs, spreading them until the inner muscles started to sting.

“Ellie, what are you-?” You started to ask, but she pretty much answered your question as she swung a leg over one of yours, her hands on your knees, and lowered herself onto you.

A sharp breath is exhale from your lungs, and a sigh from hers.

“M’sorry, babe… couldn’t wait anymore.”

Her freckled forearm was now covered in raised, pinkish scratches, both from you pulling her closer, and pushing away in overstimulation.

“Ellie… I’m gonna-“ You try to speak, but your voice fails you, coming out in a series of small little wines.

She comes down, her trembling arms barely able to hold herself up, but still continues the wave-like motions of her hips- in and out, gently rolling like a tide against the sea shelled bottom.

She kissed your cheek, a tinge of saltwater on her tongue as her lips lazily rested against your temple,

“I know, baby, me too. Together, yeah?”

She straightens herself, one of her hands pushing on the inside of your knee, ensuring full contact. And it seems so obvious in times like this that you’d always forgive her so easily- kaleidoscopic eyes peeking through dark lashes, her hip bones protruding behind alabaster skin, and the hypnotizing manner of her muscles under strain.

Ellie’s jaw clenched, digging a little harder, and rutting a little faster as her climax approaches, both greedy for her own release, but also sympathetic towards yours.

Almost ritualistic in nature, she repeated your name, and you with hers, your bodies practically conjoined as she collapses on top of you.

Once the air returned back to her lungs, she rolls off, and is opening her arms for you to take position.

And, of course, you do, nuzzling in beside her, and her hand is in your hair, stroking gently at the stands.

This is how your morning came and went, wrapped around your girlfriend, and limbs intertwined, softly snoring away the daylight, and Ellie’s heartbeat being your melodic departure.

i’m so bad at endings I’m sorry but none the less, I hope you enjoyed 🩷

[ellabsmanicgf]

abby anderson is a moaner. that woman is fucking you stupid from behind and ALL UP in your ear breathing heavy and telling how you're so warm and tight like this bitch isn't fucking you with a strap-on rn... she's definitely a praiser (or maybe she isn't and i'm just projecting.) AAAAGGHHHH SHE'S FUCKING BREATHUNG IN BETWEEN TELLING YOU HOW GOOD YOU'RE TAKING HER STRAP FUCK I'M GONNA BUST

[les4elliewilliams]

OK OK HMO

How about ellie giving reader anal as a punishment kinda thing for coming home so late after a party?? PLS I LOVE MEAN ELLIE

omgomg. I swear I'm so obsessed with mean Ellie. Sure, she's lovely and she can be such a sweet, caring, thoughtful girlfriend. Put your health and well-being above everything else, but at the same time, she can be a big meanie. And all I can think of is that one coworker!ellie fic I wrote not too long ago. She's such a meanie, I would love to fight her ass for hours to be honest, even for no reason at all; just seeing her getting all riled up and fuming red is such a turn on?????? like be mean to me i'll cum. ANYWAYS!!

cw ; wc: 4k words approximately. anal sex, smut (no shit! ik.). she accuses you of cheating, and she won't let you cum ;( dom!ellie if it wasn't obvious. kind of rushed towards the end and not proofread, sorry :((

MINORS PLEASE DO NOT INTERACT.

Afterparty punishment.

As you stepped out of the Uber, you were blinded by the bright glow of your phone's screen. You stared at all the lost calls and texts from your girlfriend, chewing on your bottom lip. Though you had heard your phone ringing, you wanted to stay longer with your friends and unwind after a long and stressful week at work. But your girlfriend had made it clear that she expected you to be home by midnight, and it was already 3 in the morning. You couldn't help but wish that she was sound asleep by the time you entered your small shared apartment — but you knew it was unlikely. You had a strong feeling that she was up, waiting for you, probably ready to lash out at you for being so late and not answering any of her calls or texts. You could already feel the tension rising as you approached your apartment complex.

You carefully turned the key in the lock, twisting it slowly and quietly, hoping not to disturb her in case she had dozed off while waiting for you to return home. As you pushed the door open, you could hear the low hum of the television set emanating from the living room. You tiptoed forward, trying not to make any noise, but just as you stepped into the room, she turned her head to look at you. Despite the calm expression on her soft features, you knew that she was anything but relaxed. Her eyes bore into you with a piercing intensity, and you could feel the full force of her anger emanating from her. She didn't say anything, but her eyes were fixed on your every move, waiting for you to speak first. You could tell that she was furious, and you braced yourself for the storm that was sure to come, letting out a long sigh.

You were the one who broke the silence first "Hi babe." your voice sounded gentle and subdued, your facial expression tinged with a hint of guilt. You slid your coat off your shoulders and hung it by the hooks on the wall. The air inside felt different than when you left to go to your best friend's party, and you could sense something was off. Her voice was soft yet firm and harsh as she replied, "Hey." She didn't even sound as sweet as she did when she said goodbye to you before you left. You kicked your heels off and left them by the door, not bothering to put them away even though you often yelled at Ellie for leaving her worn-out sneakers by the door.

"Where the hell have you been?" she exclaimed, her voice rising in anger as she stood up from the couch and marched over to you. Her previously calm demeanor had vanished, replaced by frustration and annoyance. Her face was freckled and scrunched up in anger, as she struggled to contain her emotions. "I'm so sorry, I was stuck in a traffic j-" you began, your voice apologetic. But it was clear that she was infuriated with you. She had called you multiple times, texted you, spammed your phone, but you never answered any of her calls. As time passed, she became increasingly worried that something might have happened to you and couldn't believe you could be so careless. She scoffed at your attempt to make up an apology, knowing that it was a lie, she wasn't buying it. She looked at you skeptically, her eyebrows raised in disbelief. "A traffic jam?" she repeated, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "You expect me to believe you were stuck in the traffic for over three hours?" She shook her head and let out a loud sigh of disapproval. It was clear that she thought you could have come up with a better excuse.

Just when you were about to respond to her rhetorical question, the woman abruptly raised her hand to signal you to keep quiet. "Don't even try to give me that bullshit," she scolded, her voice rising in anger. "You could have at least answered my calls or texted me back. But no, you just leave me sitting here, not knowing where you are or if you're okay." Her frustration was palpable, and she wasn't done yet. "I trusted you to be home by midnight. Do you have any idea how late it is?" she continued, her voice even louder and more incensed. Her arms were tightly crossed, causing her biceps to bulge, and you couldn't help but let your eyes linger on them for a few seconds longer than necessary. So fucking toned, she was too fucking fine even when fuming red and when she looked like she was about to strangle you.

You stood there before her, silent and unmoving as she let loose her verbal barrage. You couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt as she continued to scold you. She's all fired up, and you could feel the heat emanating from her body. "It's three in the damn morning," she growled, her words like daggers in your ears. She didn't leave any room for an argument, as if you had any reason to protest. The anger that fuelled her words didn't dim her beauty, though. Despite the situation, you couldn't help but feel a surge of desire wash over you as you watched her. With her black tank top hugging her curves and torso perfectly, her bulging bicep muscles inviting you to come closer, run your fingertips over her smooth and freckled skin, just like you usually did in the bedroom. The fire in her eyes, her commanding presence, and the way her body moved with each angry gesture all combined to create a powerful aura that was almost...hypnotic. You found yourself inching towards her, your tongue running along your bottom lip, not that she seemed to notice, too busy lashing out at you "Just because I leave you the freedom to go out with your friends doesn't mean you can leave for that long and be completely unreachable," she spat, her lips curling up in disdain. The rage in her voice was like a torrential downpour, drenching you in her fury.

You let out a laugh and watched her face shift from surprise to confusion and eventually to anger. She towered over you, her towering frame casting a shadow over you. "Oh you think this is funny? You think this is fucking funny?" she spat out, her musky scent invading your nostrils as she stepped closer. She took a deep sniff, "What, are you drunk too?" she asked with disdain, this time actually waiting for you to talk "Just tipsy, El."

A scowl etched across her face, the lines around her mouth and between her brows more pronounced. "Who were you with? Cause I'm sure someone kept you there, am I right?" she accused you, her voice low and husky, as if she was battling with her thoughts and emotions. Her words carried a hint of insecurity, a slight crack in her usual confident facade. Her jealousy was a sign of her affection, a sign that she cared deeply for you and feared losing you. She has always been overthinking it since she met you. You were so perfect, too perfect. Out of her league. She knew she was wrong for accusing you, yet her anger and insecurities overtook her logic. It was like a fever that burned deep within her, urging her to let her emotions take control. But she also knew she could trust you, you had proven her multiple times. You were the only thing in her life that gave her a sense of stability, and she was terrified of losing that. Even as she raged and accused, there was a part of her that wished she could take it all back, but the damage was done. She had let her emotions get the best of her, and she didn't know how to fix it, yet she couldn't bite her tongue. "Ellie, are you seriously accusing me of cheating on you?" You felt a sense of disbelief and hurt at her accusatory tone, your eyes narrowing as you tried to understand why she would say such a thing.

"I don't fucking know. Did you?" Words kept slipping from her lips, dripping with venom and malice. You could almost feel the weight of her anger pressing down on you, suffocating you with her wrath. She crossed her arms over her chest like a fortress, her eyes narrowing as she watched you with a mix of uncertainty and suspicion. Her body language was rigid as if she were trying to hold back an explosion of emotion beneath the surface. Her jealousy was undeniable, like a fire burning in the pit of her stomach, consuming her from inside.

"Are you dumb?" you exclaimed. You had never given her any reason to doubt you, so her words hit you like a blow to the gut. Despite her insecurities, she had never accused you of anything like this before, and it left you feeling hurt and confused. Your chest felt tight as if the accusation had left a physical imprint on your body, making it hard to breathe. You looked at her with a mixture of anger and disbelief, not quite sure of how to respond. "Are you a whore?" Your heart skipped a beat as you tried to process what she had just said, and a flush of anger and arousal spread across your chest like wildfire. Your cheeks flamed with a blush, but you tried to suppress it, not wanting her to know how deeply her words had affected you.

"Excuse you?!" You snapped. She kept gazing at you like a laser beam, drilling into your soul. You were unable to move or speak as she stood over you, her toned arms crossed as if daring you to speak out of turn. You were simply speechless, your words dying in your throat, the weight of the situation pressing down on you like a ton of bricks. "Did I stutter?" She repeated, her words dripping with sarcasm, and you could see the fury in her green irises. You were left speechless, your mouth open but no sound escaping your lips. "Take your clothes off," she demanded you, her voice low and firm; you were frozen in shock as her words hit your ears. You felt your heart start to race at her words, your mind struggling to comprehend what she was asking you. "Wha-" but she cut you off, predicting your question "Your actions have consequences," her tone stern and unforgiving.

There you were, bent over on the couch, your ass prominently displayed for her hungry and unforgiving eyes and your weight balanced precariously upon the palms of your hands sinking into its cushions, you found yourself in a vulnerable position while her eyes devoured every inch of your exposed skin. She loved the sight of your fucking ass on display for her...man, she was loving every second of it. Love bites covered your collarbone, boobs, and neck. She was rougher than usual – not that you minded, of course. She stood behind you, adorned only in a pair of sleek, black boxer shorts and a strap that hung close to your dripping entrance. The anticipation mounted as she teased and taunted, never actually fucking you like you were begging her to, instead, choosing to punish and drive you insane. She knew the effect she had on you; this was some sort of game to her, a punishment, and she was playing expertly. You were making a mess on the couch, so wet, she swore she had never seen you this needy and desperate for her. Upon your left ass cheek, the imprints of her five fingers stung gently as she kept slapping over the same spot whenever you'd talk back to her with an attitude or when you'd try to ride her black strap, but you'd be lying if you said you weren't enjoying this one bit.

She held your beloved vibrator dangerously close to your achingly responsive nub at the gentlest setting, but that was enough to send ripples of ecstasy coursing through your throbbing core, making your hips buck into her to seek for more, but again, she wouldn't give it to you. You groaned softly as she hovered over you, "Please, baby, fuck me, please..." You pleaded and pleaded, but she didn't budge. "What is it that you want, hm? My dick?" you whimpered when she set the purple wand pressed onto your clit to a different speed, making your hips wiggle and move around slightly; she knew you were close. "Don't you dare fucking cum without asking first" her voice ringing in your ears like a drumbeat. It was a harsh, demanding tone, but there was something almost musical about it, an undertone of raspy sensuality that turned your stomach in knots. "PleasePlease'mclose" You begged her for mercy, your voice pleading and desperate. You were completely at her mercy, utterly dependent on her for your release. "Baby..." She murmured softly, her voice like velvet laced with silk. This gentleness nonetheless held a mocking undertone that suggested further torture awaited you, leaving a few damp kisses on your back as she supported her half-upper body on your sticky and sweaty back. "If you had been home by midnight, none of this would happen." The gentle reminder hung in the air, another cruel twist of the knife, as she denied you the sweet release you so desperately sought, determined to prolong your punishment for the time being. It was the second time she was doing this, driving you fucking insane. Your walls clenched around emptiness, your whimpers growing increasingly pitiful and urgent. "Ellie... please, I'm going to cum," you pleaded softly. Unable to resist, you thrust your hips backward, seeking more of her; you needed her to fuck you badly, but she wouldn't even fucking touch you. You've been begging and begging for an hour now, still fucking nothing. When she heard you gasp, her emerald eyes traced downward, taking note of the tip of her strap, embedded in your drenched pussy. what a fucking slut, she thought to herself.

With a disapproving click of her tongue, she withdrew, leaving you to emit a frustrated whine and an empty feeling behind; your wispy brows furrowed in despair, a picture of helpless longing. "Pleasepleaseplease... need you so badly," you pleaded, your voice wavering and weak. "I want to come on your cock" You failed to persuade her, it gradually dawned on you that she was immune to your usual tactics. A mournful groan echoed through the room as she turned the toy off, your neglected clit throbbing almost painfully. "Ellie, plea-" you began, only to be silenced by her stern interruption "How many hours were you late?" but you sighed, trying to apologize again "Baby, I'm so-" Her hand landed forcefully on your asscheek, followed by a gentle caress to soothe the lingering burn. This contradiction between tenderness and roughness sent shivers through you. An involuntary yelp escaped you, your hips involuntarily flinching away, only to be swiftly guided back into position. "Answer. The. Question, slut." she steely commanded  "Three... three hours," you stammered, your voice thick with lingering desire, your breathing laborated.

Her voice, a mix of raspiness and sweetness, offered an ultimatum, "Last one before I actually let you cum, hmm?"

Three hours late, three orgasms taken away from you.

Finally thrusting into your aching hole and fucking it relentlessly just to pull out of you when you were about to cum. What a fucking dick.

Your body was trembling, your heart racing as you were completely out of breath. Every inch of you felt hypersensitive like you were on the verge of breaking apart. The sensations were overwhelming, almost too much to bear and she wasn't done with you yet.

"Please, may I now?" you implored, your gasps ragged. Mockingly, she replied, "Don't think you can handle it." Ellie teased, her voice dripping with playfulness, you could sense the mischievous grin appearing upon her freckled face in her voice, even if you couldn't see her. "You've got to be fucki-" Your protest was silenced mid-sentence, curtailed by her stern retort "Language. You want to cum or not?" Despite her harshness, amusement lurked beneath. Reaching for the forgotten lube on the coffee table, her weight shifted on her knees, her restlessness palpable; both of your and her knees were starting to hurt, but neither of you seemed to care enough. You exhaled, attempting to quell your nerves. "Why didn't you answer my calls?" she grumbled, twirling the cap between her nimble fingers. "I was worried, waiting here for you the whole time..." she confessed. "I lost track of time," you conceded, partly honest. You just wanted to drink with your friends, have fun, and stay out late. Was that so wrong?

You glanced over your shoulder, your head tilting ever so slightly, capturing her fluid motions as she opened the lube bottle, filling her palm with its slippery contents. When she noticed your fascinated gaze, she smacked your asscheek once more, this time setting your sensitive skin aflame. A whimper escaped you, "Eyes on the clock, princess," she crooned menacingly. "Needa learn how to not lose track of time, yeah?" she had this mocking tone going on, you winced "Stings..." your voice tinged with vulnerability as frustration smoldered in her eyes, eliciting a venomous "Maybe next time you''ll actually answer your fucking phone when I'm calling you" Your eyes darted to the clock hung on the wall before you, searching for some way to gauge the time that had passed. Each second felt like an eternity as your lungs burned with each breath, desperate for the relief withheld from you. The tick-tock of the clock only made the anticipation more intense, each sound like a taunt aimed at you. You couldn't help but wonder what she was planning next.

"I said I'm sorry" but your apology met deaf ears once again. "Sorry isn't enough for me, pretty" her skilled calloused fingers coated your asshole with slick; you couldn't still your restless hips, and the auburnette, anticipating your withdrawal, clasped your waist firmly. "Stop moving, damn it! Just hold still for a moment." Frustration simmered beneath her plea, your restlessness seriously testing her patience.

"Ellie!" you whined, struggling in vain, her strong grasp upon your hip muscle holding you in place. "I thought we agreed on no anal," you argued, but she swiftly shot back, "I thought we agreed you'd be home by midnight." You let out a deep sigh, rolling your eyes in defiance. Your chest rose and fell with each breath, your heart pounding in your ears, and yet, you were too fascinated by the power dynamic created between the two of you. 

"Fucking cunt," The words slipped from your lips unintentionally. You heard the slap before you felt it, a sharp and burning sting on your exposed skin. Your flesh felt on fire almost instantly, a reminder of the power that she held over you; the pain was an added layer to the excitement, and you were grateful for the rush of adrenaline it provided. "Still talking back, huh? Have you learned nothing?" Her voice was low but firm, a tone that shook your very core, sending chills down your spine. The power it held over you was like a drug, an exhilarating rush that left you absolutely desperate. You loved being put in your place, even if you'd never admit it out loud.

"Oh, but you can call me a whore?" She didn't even acknowledge your words, dismissing them with an airy huff. "Cause s'what you are." she muttered under her breath, her thumb tracing a wet path through your glistening folds, collecting the sweet nectar. An involuntary whimper escaped your lips, a hum of acknowledgment mingling with her words. "Look at this fuckin' pussy, god. You love when I'm mean to you, don't you?" she mused aloud. You were so fucking wet that it almost shocked her; she definitely was going to do this more often. Who knew you'd get so turned on while arguing? "Bet, this is why you always startin' shit" she accused you, chuckling dryly.

"Shut up," you pouted, she readjusted your posture with meticulous precision, her tattooed forearm brushing against her sweat-dampened brow, the silicone cock secure in her grip. She pressed the head against your resistant entrance. Before doing anything, sweet words of reassurance fell from her lips, a gentleness in her voice that you hadn't expected, but she still cared about your well-being and comfort; she loved you to death, after all. "Relax, babe... Last thing I wanna do is cause you pain." You felt your muscles relax as you listened to her; she let out a sigh before guiding it in slowly. "Fuck fuck!" Your cry of distress melted into a plea for relief, her thumbs pressing into your dimples of Venus for stability.

"Get the vibrator, baby," she commanded, pausing her invasion momentarily, allowing you to seek solace in the pulsing violet wand, the intense vibrations reducing the pain. "Ellie!" you cried out, amplifying the toy's relentless hum while she resumed her actions. "Ugh... You're so fucking tight," she grunted, her thumbs tracing gentle patterns along your spine, a balm to soothe your sensitive nerves. 

"Ahh!" you gasped as she filled you fully, her digits digging into your supple curves, latching onto tender flesh. She drove her fake cock deeper into your tight stretched passage, letting your hole adjust to her size, stretching it out so good. Your hips sought hers in response, hungrily pursuing every retreat she made, and she laughed softly as soft moans were spilled from your lips. "Ohhh look at you. You fucking brat," immaculate moans spilled forth, painting a picture of pure pleasure and pain on your features. Your eyes rolled involuntarily in the back of your skull, the wand's vibrations maintained a steady assault on your nub, and the surroundings became faint murmurs.

She paused briefly, taking note of your trembling legs before lifting you effortlessly towards her, her chest pressed against your dampened back, you could feel her hard nipples pressed against your drenched skin. Her left hand groped your budding tit, as the other replaced your quivering hand with her own, the violet toy vibrating on your aching nub with renewed vigor. Your panting cries reverberated throughout the apartment and in her ears, mixed with frustrated squirms. It was fucking music to her ears. "Baby, fuck..." You were struggling, completely blissed out of your mind. Your eyes were stuck in the back of your head, your mind lost in pleasure. The sensations were becoming too much, unbearable. The toy's vibration was set higher, causing you to squeal and squirm in her hands. It was like being caught in a whirlwind, a tornado of sensations that were pushing you on the edge. Her hand teased and twisted the nipple between her fingers, her touch almost feathery in its softness. She was in control, and you were just her plaything. She hummed back, covering the purple marks on the side of your neck with persistent kisses as her strap continued to slide in and out of you. "Close, angel?" She hummed against the soft skin of your neck, and the vibrations tickled as she moved closer pressing a few more kisses on your skin. You could feel her breath on your skin, warm and inviting. She savored every little sound you let out for her; the sounds she forced out of you were all hers. She was making you feel this good, no one else.

Your hand intertwined with the one that rested on your breast, and your other hand reached for her, your fingertips tangled in her auburn hair, as she continued to attack your neck with kisses and your tight hole with her harsh thrusts. "Close...hmmm...p-please" Your whimpers filled the air like a sweet melody, one that seemed to echo in your girlfriend's ears for a prolonged time. "Not gonna pull out this time, princess. I promise," she reassured you, whispering sweet nothings into your ear, yet they held an undeniable power over you. You felt as though you were melting into her arms, "Gonna be a good girl and listen to me for once?" which had you nodding vigorously, the hand between your thighs covered by a whole waterfall, you were so wet, she could hardly believe her eyes. "Alright, bunny. Cum for me, yeah?" she didn't even need to tell you twice, you've been holding it for so long that it felt good to finally let go. A tidal wave crashed upon you, the walls of your posterior clinging desperately to her strap.

You collapsed on all fours once again, your hands sinking into the cushions of the worn-out couch. The sound of your cries filled the air, and you were completely breathless. Your chest felt like it was on fire, the heat spreading throughout your body with a ferocity that you had never felt before. The sound of her breathing mixed with your ragged breaths. She slowly pulled out of your ass and discarded the purple toy somewhere on the floor.

"I was right by the way" Ellie suddenly said, leaving you puzzled. Her tone was triumphant, and you couldn't quite figure out what she was talking about. "'Bout what?" As you struggled to catch your breath, you managed to utter a few words, each one punctuated by a deep inhale and a ragged exhale. "You're a whore" you turned around, she greeted you with a playful tone. You couldn't help but notice her rosy cheeks and the glistening of her sweaty skin, with droplets of sweat rolling down her temples. Her lips curved into a cocky smirk, making you scoff in response. "And you're a cunt." you quickly responded back in the same playful tone.

"Need me to teach you another lesson?" She teased, beckoning you to nestle on top of her, your body adhering to her freckled, sticky skin. Trying to suppress your grin, you muttered "Shut up" in a lighthearted tone; she bursted out laughing at your reaction, finding it amusing.

"You better always be on time from now on," she said in a fake stern tone, her eyes fixed on you. "I learned my lesson," you replied, trying to sound apologetic. But deep down, you knew that you were going to repeat the same mistake, just to receive this kind of attention and treatment from her again. Unable to resist the thrill and the rush of adrenaline that came with being punished scolded from her.

¡! daily click・palestine masterpost・do not buy any game from naughty dog, neil druckmann is a zionist・more daily clicks. ¡!

[elliesbff]

“i need you”

- abby anderson

hi hi! sorry it took me so long to get to this second part, i’ve been going through a lot mentally and have just been trying to get my head around things. i genuinely hope this teeters to your satisfaction ♡ thank you for all the likes on pt 1 c:

cw: super nsfw ♨︎, scissoring (yes, there’s actual scissoring) (r! and abby!recieving) oral sex (r! receiving) fingering (r! receiving) slight dacryphilia? reader and abby have super sexual gay tension. enjoy ౨ৎ ˖ ࣪⊹

read pt 1 of i need you here!

.*･｡ﾟ 𝜗𝜚 .*･｡ﾟ

moments prior,

abby’s braid slid graciously past her shoulder as she pulled away from your short lived embraced, already missing the warmth of her sun kissed skin. it seemed like she was in a hurry, scurrying out of the gym in the blink of an eye. as you took a moment to gather yourself, you realised that she’d left her bottle behind, and her bench remained uncleaned. you stood there dumbfounded, what could she have planned that was more important than gymnasium hygiene? after all, it was her that taught all you know.

when you were nothing but a baby WLF, abby took notice of you as a new recruit and instantly saw potential in you, taking you under her wing and training you like hell to fulfil your true abilities. although you were nowhere near as burly or as experienced in combat as her, you were quite good with weaponry and crafting, as well as adapting to your surroundings, making do with what you had on you during critical times.

she calls you ‘the scavenger’ when you were not present. it was her unique way of honouring how far you’d come since joining the WLF, how she paved the way for the indestructible soldier she firmly believes you’ll grow up to be one day. it’s also just her adorable little nickname for you that she beckons nobody uses in her place.

she has the upmost faith in you. growing closer with each patrol, each gym session, and sometimes just casually hanging about the FOB or at each others rooms. your friendship was something others envied; it was pure, full of trust and built upon mutual respect. but those closest to you knew it meant more than what first meets the eye.

abby was out of sight in the blink of an eye, you look around in a suspicious daze, trying to follow her whereabouts. she was quick, but not quicker than you.

you had a long-overdue session to finish, but abby looked relatively… uneasy. something was wrong, and you could feel it. the line between instincts and curiosity began to blur as your feet developed a mind of their own, your duffel bag and towel long gone as you’d already turned the corner outside the gymnasium.

maybe you were overreacting, maybe it was overkill to automatically assume the worst was happening to her. but if something was really up with abby, you wouldn’t live it down if you didn’t initiate help.

the look on abby’s face as you stared at her through the firmly rimmed glass, her beautifully arched eyebrows furrowing only ever illuminating her intense eyes — a million thoughts a minute ran through your mind, instinctively charging for two heavy silver doors and up a random stairwell. you could smell the scent of pine and sweat — that was definitely abby.

all reasoning for your unexplainable shenanigans flew out the window as you approached abby’s room, a series of shuffles followed by a supposed muffled voice echoed from the opposite side.

your hand hesitantly reached up to knock, only to realise the door was never locked to begin with. abby could never be that careless, — maybe manny, but regardless — she would sometimes recall times where she’d have to remind him to lock up before leaving during your sessions at the gym. she’d never make a mistake she so harshly scolded people for.

your face inches closer to the door, the cool solid wood sending a kiss of shivers across your exposed shoulders as it welcomingly swayed open.

with each step, the unintelligible noises grew much clearer, and it was becoming more palpable as to what that was entailing.

you’re heart only dropped to your gut at the sound of your name, uttered by a helpless, whining mess.

“please… please.”

the door conditionally, and gently swayed closed on its own behind you, a little clck locking the door in full as you took a couple steps closer. was this a figment of your twisted imagination? the soft whimpers and subsequent cries of your name begged to differ. it was no secret now. abby had a thing for you. you were almost too afraid to move as each whine only grew more vehement.

with a couple more stalled footsteps, you froze at the sight of abby, completely ruining herself at the fate of her own hand.

your eyes widened instantly, the warm air prickling your eyes as would salt water. seeing her all ruined over the thought of you was enough to lift your hands over your mouth in keen disbelief.

you attempted to gather yourself, debating whether or not confronting her on this was the best idea — but no normal person would just walk away and forget this ever happened — forgetting the image of abby anderson, issac’s top scar killer, ramming her slick-covered fingers inside her wet cunt all while repeating your name under a dumbed spell? it’s not something that can just leave your mind at the drop of a hat. it certainly wouldn’t later, neither.

while lost in your thoughts, your tense arms dropped to your sides as your feet followed closer, the sound of your boots shuffling against the smooth concrete floor not catching her attention,

“abby?”

you watched as her oceanic eyes shot open, the abby you once believed would simply chuckle and brush off the idea of this, now scurried to find something, anything to cover her herculean figure, freckled arms still just poking out the sides.

it took more than an ounce of self control to not let yourself run wild at the fact that the abby anderson had a rather strong fancy for you, not to mention she was fucking herself to the thought of you.

as your initial astonishment subsided, your body beamed with want. seeing abby flushed and heated clouded your acclaimed critical thinking.

“…can i have a turn?” slipped from your lips after tending to abby’s own neglected desires.

and here you were, moments passing almost at the speed of light. you laid flat on your back, tits perked up from the arch of your back with abby towered over you. her estranged braid slid off her shoulder with her eyes staring you down. your neck generously splayed with bruises and bite-marks, only reminding you that she’s been wanting this for god knows how long. unbeknownst to her, you did too, you just never believed you’d live to ever experience it.

her hand lightly grazed over your tit, meticulously attending to your swollen nipple. her thumb teased at it, rubbing the area in circles to provoke a much anticipated and equally expected reaction. with her hand on your chest and her lips returning to attack your already purpled skin, you stifled a whine, bottom lip bit between your teeth. she kissed along your throat, from the point of your jaw to the crook of your neck.

she continued toying with your body as her tongue traversed to your waist, laying another round of sloppy kisses to your hip bones and abdomen.

it was like your skin grew ten times more tender whilst under her touch, each breath of hers against your skin feeling like a gentle tickle, accompanied by her large and surprisingly delicate hands palming your tits, it was growing to be too much, too much being your style, anyways.

her hand left your chest to firmly grip onto your hips, pulling you closer to her lap. she took her already soaked fingers, prodding at your pussy like you’d done previously. your breaths grew shakier with each flick of your clit.

her eyes returned to that intense, fiercely glare from back at the gym, so that’s why she was so concentrated, or rather in her own dreamland.

her tongue laid a generous coat of saliva along her lips, staring at your pussy like the starved woman she was. for how long she’d ached for this, you had no clue. this was bound to be a moment to remember.

your cunts were practically hugging each other, the feeling of being so close to her pussy only added fuel to the fire that gleamed in your core. the longer abby stared, just taking in your breathtaking body, the stronger the feeling of being exposed grew.

her head dives below your eye view, feeling her nose bump at your clit. she savours it, her tongue peeling out at an antagonisingly slow pace as she glares at you through her arched brows. she could taste it all, her juices mixed with yours..

your hand gently took rest within her blonde locks, hooking into the back of her braid.

“abby,”

you huffed, sounding more like a plead than anything. with each soft, trembling breath, she’d drag her tongue along your cunt in sync.

her face would dig further into you, arms slithering to wrap themselves around your thighs. even if you begged for her to slow down, your needy hole that clenched around nothing, desperate to be touched, told her otherwise.

abby would stare at you longingly, finally able to die happy between your tensing thighs as she rapidly swabbed your clit with your tongue, dragging it along in circles and the likes.

your body jerked at the sudden change in pace, back arching instinctively off the bed. the whole lower half of your body fired up, tingly and numb. her muffled grunts sent you haywire, violently gripping onto her hair. she was like a leech that wouldn’t let go, sucking and lapping around that sweet spot like her life depended on it.

“stop squirming.” abby would demand as she shoved your hips back onto the mattress, not once detaching herself from you.

you could barely comprehend anything she’d say as she was practically suffocating herself between your thighs, and you’d both be lying if you said you didn’t love it.

abby teased your cunt with her fingers, carefully slipping her thick digits inside of you. your legs squeezed around her head at the sensation of feeling so full. her fingers, let alone hands, were thicker than yours. and they felt much more fulfilling.

your moans would blend harmoniously, both equally experiencing pleasure from the other as you climbed the ladder of your climax.

abby’s suppressed grunts would only ring through your ears. where was the abby that was so shamelessly call out your name moments ago?

your grip on her hair tightened, practically dragging her face along your cunt to accumulate as much friction as your body desired. her fingers would work wonders, unforgivingly pumping in and out of you as her tongue would rub against your clit. each time she would flick against it you’d jolt, back arched with a shy hand over your mouth.

in a matter of seconds, abby had pulled away — both her tongue and fingers. just as you were about to reach the peak, you’d tumble down with your high dropping in seconds.

“wh.. why’d you stop?” you breathed out, tears that rimmed your eyes beginning to dissipate.

as if abby could read your thoughts, she placed a leg over yours, dragging your helpless body closer to her. your cunts were mere centimetres apart, the slick that built up from your pleasure mixing with hers.

“wanted to rile you up..” she muttered, her beautifully eager smile spreading from ear to ear as she strategically began kneading her pussy against yours. abby let out a stifled whimper, her perfectly toned arms pulling your leg almost over her shoulder.

you whined as she slowly dragged her pussy back and forth. the only thing ruminating through your mind in the moment was how you wished you’d done this sooner. way sooner. if given the opportunity any earlier, you’d have jumped at it like an animal in heat.

tears generously coated your plump cheeks as abby picked up the pace, she muttered curses under her breath with each drag of her swollen cunt. it was evident she was close, her arms would needily latch onto yours in an attempt to pull you closer than you already were.

the sounds of timid whines and skin slapping echoed through the room. you hoped that nobody would mention a peculiar series of moans to you or abby the next day. but all you could focus on was her slick engulfed thighs, her chest and the hickeys that’d covered her tits. her neck that was equally as bruised, and her face that contorted into a smile once she noticed you were staring.

“this feel good?” she asks, a sudden grunt spilling from her lips a second after.

all you could do was nod. you were afraid once you spoke, you wouldn’t be able to stop. abby, abby, abby, abby, was all you could think of. how strong she was and how easily she could throw you around if she wanted to, how easily you could tug on her braid while she fucked you dumb. it drove you insane how she wanted you and nobody else. she fucked herself to the thought of you and nobody else.

she disapprovingly shook her head, slapping your thigh playfully.

“mm mm, i don’t take nods, use that pretty mouth,” abby grinned, her cunt grinding viciously fast against your own. you whined dumbly, the pleasure overpowering your body. you felt numbing tingles along each cell of your body.

you whined shamelessly loud, “it feels.. so good.” abby’s face enlightened, her hips picking up pace from your undying cooperation. anything for her to keep going.

she squeezed a handful of your thigh and massaged it, letting out her pent up urges that she was only able to let out now.

you dumbly mumbled a bunch of nonsense yes’, keep going’s and abby’s, initially climbing the tower of climax yet again. and abby was, too. as much as she tried to hide it, nothing could excuse how her hips would dig into your abdomen from how quick she practically humped your cunt.

abby held your thighs close to her, gaining the upper hand in creating more friction. her clit would bump against yours almost ever second. both your whines enveloped the air around you as the coil inside you snapped, your pleasure releasing out into a white pool underneath you.

but abby was far from finished.

she pulled your hips closer, with pussies rubbing against each other and whines echoing through the walls. you wouldn’t doubt for a second that someone could hear you.

with more than a couple grunts and calls for your name, abby came down from her own high, her hips faulting and slowly grudging to a stop.

you both panted relentlessly. you swore if she kept going you would’ve came a second time at the snap of a finger.

trying to regain your breaths, abby lets out a chuckle.

she doesn’t say anything, but she shakily pulls herself off of you, propping herself up by her elbow next to you.

a sudden wave of embarrassment washed over you as the reality of both your actions settled in. there was no hiding your attraction to one another now, none of this would’ve happened otherwise.

the never ending pining, hanging out one on one every chance you got and saying it was ‘just to train you’. you don’t know why you were surprised at the fact that abby would think about these things behind closed, or more so unlocked doors.

“..so?” abby’s voice was soft and meek, her hand fidgeting alongside her waist as her head rested on her other hand.

you hesitantly locked eyes with her, your previous shyness fading away as she planted a kiss to your forehead. something as cheesy and cute as a forehead kiss was enough to make you blush, subsiding all the things you both just did.

“..that was better than i expected.” you finally replied. abby’s eyebrow quirked, head tilting to the side.

“oh, so you thought it’d be bad?” she kids in a sly tone, that familiar smile returning once more.

you playfully punched her arm in response, the both of you knowing in reality, it felt like heaven on earth.

“does it look like it was bad?” you poke back, pointing to all the hickeys and bite marks along both your bodies.

only now did you realise how much of a mess you made. there was cum all over the bedsheets, saliva all over your cunts and what not — this place was really overdue for a cleanup.

you chuckle as you examine the aftermath.

“we should clean up..”

“we?” abby questions.

“i don’t mind, i made it too, no?”

abby couldn’t argue with that. she sighs, pulling you up and off the bed so you could both clean up. not without peppering your body with kisses first.

fin.

i hope you guys enjoyed this, it was definitely a lot longer than i planned, and sorry again for taking so long!! but i enjoyed writing this a lot, hopefully you guys enjoy reading it too. ♡♡

dt: louise again realest oomf!!

word count: 2,793

[auteurdelabre]

SO MUCH TO LOSE part 10 - dark!Joel x f!reader

rating: 18+

words: 7.5k

TW: HEAVY EMOTIONAL CHAPTER. MENTIONS OF TRAUMA. Allusions to oral sex, m receiving, allusions to f/m penetrative sex.

a/n: I told y'all this chapter's a doozy. Well it is, but maybe not for the reasons you think. . . To me its one of the most important chapters of this whole story.

series masterlist

REBLOGS, COMMENTS, ENGAGEMENT ARE WHAT KEEP US FIC WRITERS GOING. PLEASE REMEMBER THAT IF YOU ENJOYED THIS.

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

SO MUCH TO LOSE CHAPTER 10

You visit Maria the following week with a plate of cookies in hand. She’s the one to answer the door and you are relieved when you see that she is showered and dressed. Things must be improving. She brings you into a tentative hug when you arrive, urging you inside out of the fresh dusting of snow.

“Tommy has Douglas out for a little walk. I’ll make you a coffee.”

“I’m fine,” you insist. “Just came to drop off some baking. I’m heading to Ellie’s later this week and needed to get some practice in. I haven’t done much baking lately and wanted to make sure I wasn’t rusty.”

You join her on the couch, watching as she wraps her hands tightly around her coffee mug. She takes tentative sips between munches of cookie. At the first bite she literally moans.

“This is so good.”

“Thanks. They were Charlotte’s favorite.”

Maria licks the crumbs from her lips before leaning back on the sofa. She’s always been slender and she looks almost as she did back before she gave birth, except for the small pouch at her lower belly. You think she looks better with it.

“Was Charlotte your daughter?”

“Oh no. I never had kids.”

“We’re you ever married?”

“Me?” you almost laugh. “No.”

“Oh,” Maria blinks and her mouth tugs to the side. “I thought you might be. You have a nurturing quality about you.”

 “I think you give me too much credit.”

Maria grins, taking another bite of cookie. The two of you chat amiably a bit about the changing weather, of the way the inhabitants of Jackson City get along so well. Of how she feels the pressure of being Jacksons’ ‘First Lady’. Of how the bandits that fuck with the dam that supports the city stresses her daily.

“It’s a fucking nightmare some days,” she cites with a grumble. “Thank goodness for Tommy.”

“He’s a good man,” you tell her.

“He is,” she smiles indulgently before shooting you a lingering look. “What do you think about Joel?”

“How do you mean?”

“You do patrols with him, right?” 

“Can’t say I was always his biggest fan,” she says, taking another sip from her mug. “But he’s grown on me.”

“Yeah.”

You hold in the scoff that’s already begun in your throat.

“My friend Jennifer seems to think he’s pretty wonderful,” you offer instead. “She was delighted to help him repair the window last week.”

“She the blonde one? Used to do textiles?” Maria knows everyone thanks to her position.

“Yeah.”

“Not his type,” Maria insists with a shy grin. “She’d eat him alive.”

Jennifer doesn’t seem like she would eat anyone alive.

“Joel is all harsh edges,” she explains when she sees your confusion. “He needs someone soft to balance him out. That Jennifer girl is hard.”

You don’t think that you would consider Jennifer hard and you don’t fight Maria on it because the conversation quickly turns to Jackson’s continued increase of population, the place swelling with new life.

“Plenty of single men,” Maria says with a quirked brow in your direction. You give a soft laugh.

“Not really interested.”

“Single women too.”

“No no,” you laugh again, cheeks pinking. “I like men, I just . . . I don’t think I’m the partnering type.”

You think of Luke and his sweet features and his muscled forearms. For him you could perhaps be the partnering type. Perhaps. The thought of romance appeals to you; it just doesn’t seem realistic at times. A crush feels fun and safe.

“You must have had your share of dates,” Maria insists. You can see her relaxing and you think she must be enjoying what she views as girl time. You think she must not have had much of it lately.

“Normal crushes and stuff,” you shrug. “But I was a late bloomer and then the outbreak started when I was a teenager so I didn’t have a chance for a lot of firsts back then.”

“Sex,” Maria nods.

“Uh yeah… that…” you say, trying to appear nonchalant. “And uh, kissing, dating, all that stuff.”

“But you did eventually,” Maria cites smiling.

“Sex? Oh yes,” you nod. You weren’t a monk or anything in your time before Jackson City.

“What was your first time like?” Maria settles back against a cushion, nibbling at her cookie looking at you eagerly. “I remember mine was all fumbling in the backseat of his truck before curfew.”

You laugh and think Maria must be starved for company to be intrigued by your limited romantic experience.

“Uh… fast,” you say with a laugh before allowing yourself to be transported back to that time. “He worked at one of the bakeries that I assisted in. I remember he had the longest eyelashes I’d ever seen on a man. They were so blond you could only see them if he turned at a certain angle. He made me laugh. One night he invited me back to his apartment and… that was that.”

“How old were you?”

“Uh, twenty two, twenty three?”

“And you didn’t date after?”

“Nah, my family left that QZ kinda in a hurry.”

You aren’t expecting your voice to hitch on that last sentence, but it does.  Maria grows somber, her dark eyes expressive.

“Can I ask why you left?”

You blink back the sheen of tears starting and gaze around the room, trying to land on something that will steel you. You find it in the small carving of a horse on the bookshelf nearby. You tell your story to that delicately made creature instead.

“We moved east through the QZ’s for about ten or eleven years. Stayed in a few of them before we’d pick up and keep moving to the next one. Hard to make connections and date with all that. I didn’t trust that I’d have the time.”

Maria looks like she wants to ask more when the door is opened and Tommy’s cheerful voice rings out announcing he and Douglas are home and ready for lunch.

“We have company!” Maria says cheerfully.

Tommy turns the corner to see you and he greets you. He wears Douglas strapped to him with fabric, snuggled under his large jacket. Jackson is sleeping soundly and barely notices when Tommy unwraps and hands him off to his mother.

Douglas squirms, his tiny head burrowing into Maria’s neck. She smiles and for the first time you’ve known her it looks sincere. There is a lightness in the house you realize, something that had been missing before.

“He enjoyed being out in the fresh air,” Tommy announces. “Everyone who saw him wanted to kiss him.”

“Tommy!” Maria looks horrified.

“But I didn’t let ‘em,” Tommy finishes, pressing a gentle kiss to his wife’s worried brow. “I’m gonna make some soup. You two want a bowl?”

“I’m alright,” you say. “I just brought by dessert. I’m actually heading over to Ellie’s to do some baking.”

“Joel’s letting you use his place to bake?”

You still, brows raised. “Uh… yeah. Is that… should I not be?”

“No, I’m just surprised,” Tommy admits after a pause. “I don’t think he’s ever let anyone in that house aside from me and Maria. Think the only reason he and Ellie don’t kill each other is ‘cuz she’s in the garage.”

“Oh.”

You don’t know what else to offer besides that.

Tommy nods and for a moment you see something in his expression, a pinched look when Maria looks away from him.  You realize that Tommy looks harried, running a hand through his glossy curls.

“What’s up?”

“Nothin’,” Tommy replies too quickly.

You see the panic in his eyes as his gaze darts from his wife back to you. You understand immediately. Maria is doing well, if there’s something stressful in Jackson City he doesn’t want to bother her with it.

“Thanks for the tea Maria, but I better head out,” you inform them both.

Maria wraps you into a side hug, one arm around your shoulders, the other holding her son. You run your knuckles down his spine gently.

“Come back soon,” she whispers.

“I promise.”

“I’ll walk you out,” Tommy says, feigning manners. The two of you walk to the front door around the corner. As you toe on your boots you look up at him expectantly.

“Well?”

Tommy looks over his shoulder anxiously before dropping his voice to a conspiratorial whisper only you can hear.

“Rumor is Raiders were spotted by A Patrol this week,” Tommy says with a sigh. “Up by the traps.”

“Fuck,” you breathe. “Really?”

“Not positive. A Patrol isn’t always the most reliable. They spook easy and are overly cautious. But I’d rather that than the alternative.”

“Of course.”

“Just make sure you and Joel are extra cautious,” Tommy says. “I know you’re both responsible but, you know…. Just be extra responsible.”

You nod, feeling your heart thrumming in your chest as you make your way to Rancher Street.

///

You didn't really want to go to Joel's house today. But Ellie had found you last night heading home from The Tipsy Bison and had guilted you into it when she told you that Joel had brought back all the supplies needed. 

You'd tried to sway her into baking at your place but only the burners on your oven work. You'd never really considered getting the main oven fixed, since you take most of your meals in the dining hall.

But in moments like this, you heavily regret that choice. 

You feel like even your footsteps sound timid as they make their way up the wood steps. 

Ellie is at the door, pulling it open before you can even knock. She must have been looking for you at the window, counting down the seconds until your arrival. The thought warms you. She gives you a broad smile that lights up her face.

"I got everything set up!"

She takes off down into the kitchen and you venture into the Miller home tentatively, still anxious about what happened last time.  

A sound to your right draws your attention and you take in the tall form of Joel coming into the room. He's dressed in jeans and a sweater, obviously feeling the chill despite the cheery fire that roars behind him. 

"Mornin'," he greets. 

"Morning." You lick your lips nervously. "Thanks for letting me bake with Ellie."

"'Course. She's been looking forward to it for weeks. Can't stop talkin' about it.'

Joel gives you a whisper of a smile but the thing that really throws you about this interaction is that he looks almost nervous. You've never seen Joel look nervous. 

He'd been so stiff after last patrol, not even saying goodbye to the group after you'd all disembarked off the horses. 

It had been embarrassing. Him storming off like you'd all done something wrong. Only Jennifer seemed to still be under Joel's spell citing that watching him hammer the window would fuel her fantasies for months to come.

You're still really irritated with him but it's lessened slightly because his greeting isn’t hostile. You could almost relax if it weren’t for the intense way he’s staring at you.  

You hear your name being called by Ellie in the next room so you toe off your shoes and head into the kitchen. She's got an apron on, borrowed from the kitchen or Joel because it's far too big for her small frame. 

"Alright," you give her a warm smile as you enter. "You got everything?"

"Yep."

You place the bag you brought on the counter. You remove your own apron, baby blue with ruffles on the end. A recent gift from Jennifer who told you “since you’re a real chef you need your own apron”. You tie it as you speak to Ellie.  

"So what I like to do is set up all my supplies on the counter just to double check I have everything. Nothing worse than being halfway through a recipe and finding out you you’re missing ingredients."

The sentence isn't even out of your mouth before Ellie’s opened up her cupboards and ice box and begun to take everything out. Flour, eggs, bowls, milk and more, all the items you gave Joel on the list. She places them on the counter before looking at you like a proud student. 

"You'll need measuring spoons."

The two of you turn at the same time to see Joel standing by the entrance to the kitchen, lingering. His hands are in his jean pockets, standing like a chastised student outside the classroom.

"I brought some," you inform him, trying to hold in your irritation. You pull them from your bag, putting them next to the eggs. 

You feel Joel's eyes on your back and you're sure he's silently judging you, eager to point out what you're doing wrong. You stiffen under the perceived scrutiny. Ellie must sense the change in the room because she whips around to shoot him a jeering look. 

"Joel you don't need to supervise," Ellie says rolling her eyes. "We won't break the damn stove." 

Joel looks at his feet mumbling something about needing to do stuff upstairs anyway before he's making his way out of the kitchen. 

You go back to your lesson with Ellie who turns out to be a very focused student. 

She asks smart questions, measures everything perfectly and takes her time. It's only when you put her in charge of cracking three eggs into the bowl that she gets frustrated. 

"Fuck, it cracked wrong. Shell got in."

Her fingers pinch into the egg bowl, trying to grasp the fallen eggshell. Of course the viscous nature of the raw egg makes it impossible and it’s not long before she pushes at the bowl angrily, her face is set into a deep frown.

“S’fucking bullshit.”

"Happens all the time," you tell her kindly. "Don't stress about it. I’ll show you a secret my mom taught me and my sister to get ‘em out."

Ellie watches as you take the empty shell half still in her hand. Her brows knit in confusion as you lower it into the bowl, using it as a scoop. Unlike with her fingers, the egg shell piece floats easily into the makeshift scoop. You pull the shell from the bowl, tossing the mess into the garbage.

“Holy shit that actually worked.” Ellie smiles at this and it transforms her pale pinched features into that of a warm, approachable teenager. 

You smile, feeling strangely proud. You’ve never baked with anyone else before, aside from the kitchen. But that was following the same boring recipes given by the head chef. You were usually boiling rice, cutting onions or apples. Baking is a different beast, a calmer, more relaxing one.  

After that hiccup Ellie is more patient with herself. She's keen to learn about baking but she's very eager to talk to you about you. When you pop the formed pastries into the oven and set the timer she decides that now is the time to chat. 

"What kind of music did you used to listen to before?"

Memories of Joel’s warning float in your mind. The reminder not to tell her too much. To make her long for a life that he can’t give her.

"Enough about me,” you deflect. “I want to know about you."

At this Ellie balks slightly, the smile wavering just a fraction before the mask is replaced and she nods. Her mixing increases but now her eyes are on the batter.

"Whadda you wanna know?"

"What was your life like before Jackson?"

"I was in the QZ back in Boston,” she says slowly, as if she's trying to make sure she doesn't give too much away. "Hated it."

"Parents?"

"Never met 'em."

"What brought you to Jackson City?"

"Joel."

She doesn't offer you more or less than that. You understand it, you don't push it.

"How'd you end up here?" She asks, mixing the dry ingredients.  

You realize the stupidity of you asking her those questions. How easily you opened them to be doubled back on yourself. 

"You asked me what kind of music I listened to before?" You smile, hoping that this will distract her. "I remember I saw Chicago about a billion times," you laugh. "I was obsessed. I listened to the soundtrack over and over."

"Chicago," Ellie says slowly as if trying to recall before a light seems to go on. "Oh, I've heard of Chicago. Joel likes ‘em."

Them?

It takes you a minute to understand what she's talking about. You finally answer giggling. 

"Chicago the musical, not the band. The musical had great songs. And dancing." 

"Do you dance?"

"Not very well." 

Your dual laughter combines and you can't help but enjoy the sound. Ellie really does make you laugh. She reminds you of how life was before. When everything seemed new. 

You can tell Ellie wants to know everything about your life before the outbreak. And you want to indulge her but Joel's words rub their imprint on your the inside of your skull.

"Hey I promised your D- Joel that I wouldn't keep talking about this stuff with you," you explain quietly. "He's worried it makes you want stuff you can't have."

"Jesus," Ellie says rolling her eyes. “Overprotective much?” 

"No he's right," you insist truthfully. "I mean, I get where he's coming from. He doesn't wanna keep disappointing you."

"Joel could never disappoint me."

The timer goes off and you peer into the oven. The pastries are a golden brown. You smile before taking them out with the oven mitt. Ellie closes her eyes, inhaling.

"They smell so good."

"Just wait until you put icing on them," you encourage with a grin. "Delicious." 

The two of you get to work making the icing while the pastries cool. 

"It's gonna snow," Ellie comments out of nowhere as she peers out the window, mixing idly. 

"Hate to break it to you, El, it's already snowing."

Ellie gives you a smirk along with her side eye. You don't know if it's from your sarcastic comment or the fact that you called her El. 

"I mean I think it’s gonna snow a lot." She explains. "I heard some of the other kids talking about it at school."

"Huh," you offer noncommittal as you look at the consistency of the icing. "Wonder how they can tell."

"They said they could smell it," Ellie says with a grin, pushing up the sleeve of her shirt so that it doesn't drip into the icing bowl. "They said tha-"

You can't hear anything she's saying after that. All you can focus on is her now bared arm and the ugly bite mark. Blood rushes in your ears and you cry out before giving a blood curdling shriek. 

“No!”

Ellie jumps, startled at your sudden screams. She throws herself back against the wall, eyes wide and glancing around as if she expects hordes of infected to come streaming in. 

"What? What is it?"

You know she's never seen you be loud, never seen you scream and the sight must terrify her. 

But all you can focus on is the clear outline of bite marks on her forearm visible after she rolled up her sleeves. The clear sign of an infected’s mark. She’s going to turn into a clicker before your eyes. She’s going to become soulless and inhuman and you need to go. You need to get somewhere safe.

Joel. He’ll be so devastated.

You can hear the heavy footsteps of Joel approaching the kitchen but all you can think of is escaping and getting yourself safe. You have to warn the town. You run towards the front door, your socks slipping over the smooth floor. 

You're still screaming incoherently, your voice cracking as you lunge for the doorknob, tears in your eyes. Your hand closes around the brass knob just as two muscled arms go around your waist, pulling you back harshly. A hand covers your mouth and a deep voice is at your ear. 

"Quit," he repeats, shaking you slightly in his arms. "Stop screamin'."

There's an increasingly paranoid thought that believes this was all a trap. A way for Joel to get his daughter fed. You feel it, Joel's arms wrapped around your entire body, pinning your arms to your sides. His body is warm and solid behind you, terrifying in its strength. It takes you to a time you've tried to forget. 

"Get the fuck off of me!" You shriek against his palm, trying to wriggle out of his grip but he holds firm. You're screaming expletives, trying to kick out. You shake his hand off your mouth. "She's bit, Joel! I saw it!"

Ellie hasn't moved from where she stands cowering in the corner of the kitchen. But you can only imagine how soon it will be before she turns. You can't be here for that. You can’t watch that sweet girl turn into one of them.

"I know," Joel rumbles against your temple, hands still gripping you tightly. 

"You know," you repeat and now a dread begins in your feet and floods the rest of you. 

Joel knows she is bit. Joel welcomed you into his home knowing she was bit. 

You are going to die. 

"Let me go!"

High on fearful adrenaline you give a frantic kick backwards, elbowing into Joel's abdomen at the same time you thrust the ball of your foot onto his socked toes. Joel gives a strangled grunt and his arms loosen in pain momentarily allowing you a chance to break free from him. 

You tug open the door and speed out without your boots. You feel the snow on the porch under your feet, freezing your toes immediately. You throw yourself down the porch stairs, feet slapping the wood as you hold back sobs. The street is deserted; the houses all empty as they usually are on bright Saturday afternoons. You go to cry out for someone, anyone, when Joel's arm bands around your waist.

You give a devastated howl of defeat before Joel is dragging your struggling frame back into the house, telling you to calm down. 

Ellie is by the sink, her eyes on the ground. 

But you still struggle, trying to get away from this house. Joel gives a frustrated growl before he pushes you up against the wall, pinning you there with his hips. His hands hold your wrists on either side of your head, pressing them into the wall. 

"Stop fuckin' strugglin'," Joel seethes when you jerk against him, his chest pressing you so tightly to the wall you can't breathe. 

"Please let me go," you beg brokenly as you continue to struggle in his arms. "Please I just-“

"She's immune," he rasps in your ear. "She's fucking immune! Stop!"

Immune. Immune. 

"What?" You stop your screaming just long enough to twist your head to face him. "Immune? That's not possible." 

But you’ve stopped struggling as hard.

You take a closer look at Ellie’s arm from where you stand, noticing that it doesn’t look particularly fresh. In fact it looks scarred. And yet something in you is still terrified. So terrified that you yelp when you feel Joel's wide hands go to either side of your face, forcing your face up and eyes to his. 

"Everything is okay," Joel tells you in a husky rasp. "You're safe, I promise. I've got you. You're safe." 

His eyes are locked with yours as he says this and you don't know how those words work their way into your body, but they do. The same way they wind around you as you allow yourself to get lost on patrols with your mouth on him. That sense that someone else is in charge, someone else is protecting you.

You're safe.

Your entire frame goes boneless in his arms and when he finally releases your face your head drops to your chest. He continues to press you gently against the wall with one heavy hand holding you there.

"What if it's slow acting or -" you whisper quietly, "or what if you can still pass it on with saliva or-"

"The dogs don't detect it," Joel tells you, his hold on you not lessening. "Ellie and I've shared drinks plenty a' times. She's immune."

You stare at the girl at the table, her entire countenance shifted. You can see the devastation, the fear and anger floods out of you immediately, like a deep sigh. You sag in Joel's arms, feeling as he slowly loosens you. 

"She's had it for months," Joel tells you, no longer pinning you to the wall. 

"Months?" 

You're still stunned by the developments but it doesn't stop your eyes from traveling over to Ellie. You see now that tears are slipping off the end of her nose as she silently cries. She’s pulled her sleeve back down, covering the scar.

Your heart immediately breaks because it's you who did this to her. This girl who trusts so few. You treated her like she was a monster. 

"Ellie I'm sorry, I just..." You trail off, your heart still beating wildly. 

But Ellie has tears in her eyes, her neck blotchy. She's raced to the garage, slamming the door after her. You flinch at the sound of it. 

Then it’s just you and Joel in the quiet kitchen.

"How long have you known?"

"Since I met her," Joel explains quietly. "Was bringing her to the fireflies with a friend in exchange for a battery. Rumor was there was a cure."

"Guess not if you're both here," you say absently, missing the pain in his dark eyes when you say it. 

"Not a lot of people know about it. We'd like to keep it that way."

You nod, your mind whirring. You realize you've never seen Ellie in anything but long sleeves. Never seen her wearing bracelets or anything that would draw her attention to her arms. She’s been hiding in plain sight. You think of the friendships she hasn’t made, the way she keeps to herself, the hostile way she is with most and it all clicks into place.

"We were thinking of gettin' her a tattoo to cover it up,” Joel continues. “Haven't found anyone to do it yet." 

You nod again, eyes falling on the pastries now lying squashed on the floor, the warm berries oozing out onto the wood.

“I’ll take care of this stuff,” Joel mutters, dropping to his knees and starting to pick up the supplies you brought. You think of how excited Ellie had been to recreate the pop tarts, how devastated she’ll be when she realizes they’re all ruined.

"I- I think I should go talk to Ellie."

"She doesn't wanna talk. Trust me."

"Just lemme try."

Joel looks as if he's about to protest but you're already walking quickly until you've reached the door to the garage. You knock gently.

"Ellie? It's me. Please don't be upset ... I was just startled."

There's a pause, then a sniffle that makes your heart lurch. 

"Can we talk? Please, Ellie?" 

You hear shuffling and then finally the door to the garage is opened a crack and you see Ellie peering through. Her eyes are swollen and red, the end of her nose pink. She glares at you through the small slit in the door. 

"Fuck off."

"I just want to explain. Just let me explain and then I promise I'll leave."

She doesn't move, doesn't attempt to close or open the door. She just stands there like some sentry. 

“Five minutes. That’s all I need.”

"You think I'm a freak."

"I don't," you insist, palm on the door as if you could transfer your emotions by osmosis to her. "Ellie I was having fun right before all this. I really was. Can we talk? Please? I want to explain properly." 

Ellie’s glossy eyes scan your body and with a labored sigh she steps back, opening the door and allowing you entrance. 

"Come in."

You follow her into the warm space, watching as she drops onto her made bed. Ellie hugs her knees to her chest, wrapping her arms around them as you look at her. Ellie's eyes drag from the floor up to your face and you see her chin trembling as she holds in tears. 

“Can I sit?” you ask motioning to beside her on the bed. She nods, shuffling to give you room to perch there.

“I know you’re not gonna come back after this,” Ellie says, eyes wide with a quiet pleading as you look over at her.

“Of course I am.”

“No you’re not,” Ellie says shaking her head and rubbing angrily at her eyes. “You’ve seen my arm. You think I’m a fucking freak.”

"Ellie I swear I don't think you're a freak," you emphasize as you shuffle on the edge of her bed. "I was just... That bite took me back to a really scary time."

"Yeah," Ellie says with her chin balanced on her kneecap. "No one wants to think about... All that stuff." 

You see the desolation there in her eyes. She's hurt and even though you didn't mean to do it you did. You feel responsible for her sadness. Your eyes go to her closed door, wanting to make sure you have privacy before you turn back to her.

"Ellie, can I share some stuff with you?"

"Yeah.”

"It's not happy stuff," you tell her. 

"Figured." Ellie shrugs again like it doesn't matter. Like she's seen it all. Maybe she has, but you doubt it. She doesn’t make eye contact with you.

“It’s just. . . I’ve never told anyone this stuff before. Ever.”

Ellie’s eyes go to your face now. She can see how serious you are and she straightens slightly. She goes from being hunched and holding her legs to sitting cross legged across from you on the bed.

"Okay..." You take a sharp inhale. “So, I was about your age when Outbreak Day happened. I was with my Dad and my sister. My mom was visiting my Aunt in Wyoming-“

“How come?”

“Ellie you gotta let me get this all out quick okay?” you say gently. “No interruptions.”

“Okay.”

“Okay,” you breathe deeply again. “She was visiting my aunt because my aunt was getting a divorce and my mom wanted to support her. Anyway, about ten years ago my dad and my little sister and I were travelling between QZ’s. We were looking for my Mom because my Dad was convinced she was still alive and she’d be out in this direction.”

You swallow; hating talking about this but knowing that Ellie deserves this truth. So far she looks intrigued, her eyes wide.

“So one night we were exhausted. We’d been travelling for days and we were low on food and water. We see this old cabin and it looks like it’s abandoned. We figure it’s a good spot to hunker down and get some energy before we keep going.” You exhale a shuddering breath.

“Except it wasn’t abandoned. It was a trap set up by this group of Raiders. I called them The Group. They killed my dad and they were gonna kill me and my sister when one of the guys had the bright idea that they could use us as bait.”

"Bait?"

 Ellie seems to remember she’s not supposed to say anything because she ducks her head slightly.

"Yeah. they made us go into new places first," you explain detached, as if you’re talking about another woman in another life. "So if there was anything dangerous it would get us in enough time to give The Group a chance to escape.”

Ellie is staring at you wide-eyed, all her teenage ambivalence lost as you detail the most terrifying years of your life. You omit lots of the more gruesome details and you definitely don’t tell her about Rock River.  

"Once they hung me from a tree," you tell her, trying not to sound emotional. It's not hard. Years of hiding how that part of your life affects you makes you good at it. "They tied me to a rope and hung me on a branch to attract clickers."

"Jesus."

"Yeah," you nod. "It worked really well. There was a big group and they piled underneath me, trying to grab at me, their mouths all black and their teeth gnashing and...” you stop yourself when you see Ellie’s eyes widening. “Anyway, The Group got ‘em all and managed to get some good supplies in the town because of it. I just... It just left me kind of..."

You wince when you realize you’ve trailed off, your focus blurred.

"The point is that when I saw your arm it just all came flooding back and I reacted out of instinct. Not because I think you're a freak. I could never think that about you.”

Ellie is quiet, digesting all that you've told her. You think you hear a creaking outside her door, but you're not sure. Your attention is drawn back to the girl who’s eyes hold such a myriad of emotions; pain, empathy, fear, anger.

"How did you end up here?" 

You think about not telling her. But it feels so good to be getting some of this information out, like you’re coughing up a thick black piece of flesh that’s been festering in your lungs for years, making it so you can now finally breathe.

"One guy, Chiyo, he joined up with our group a few years after I was taken. He owned a shooting range before everything.... You know…. Well, he'd broken his ankle in a recent raid and couldn’t really move much. If we hadn't come upon him when we did he probably would have been killed by another group of raiders. But as it was he had this giant stash of weapons and The Groups ranks were thinning so..."

You trail off, thinking of how you'd come upon him first when you and The Group got to town. How the leader you thought of as Red due to his hair (you never learned their real names), shoved you brutally by the shoulder.

Always the bait.

But after what had happened only the week before you didn’t care anymore. Red pushed you and you entered willingly, your feet not even dragging as you walked. It was either be shot by one of The Group attempting to escape, or see what resided inside the shop with the boarded up windows.

Chiyo’s gun was trained on you the second you walked in. The way you held your hands at your eye level when he told you he was going to shoot.

“I’m gonna blow your head clean off if you take another step.”

And suddenly you’d decided that you were done. You were so tired. And at least this way it would be quick and it would be away from The Group. And so you’d taken another step towards Chiyo, hands still raised.

You can still recall the furrowing of his thick brows and the lowering of his weapon as he stared at you.

"You want to die?"

You hadn't answered him but that had been answer enough for Chiyo. He'd hobbled over to you, dragging his lame leg, dark eyes fixed on your face. 

"I'm not gonna hurt you."

And when he'd said it, you'd believed him.

You remember the way you'd convinced the rest of The Group they needed someone like him. A crack shot, you told them. You'd had no idea of knowing if it was true. But there had been warmth in Chiyo's eyes that was missing from the rest of The Groups. Something that you clinged to in the coming months.

"Thankfully he was a really good shot,” you explain. “He joined up and we stripped his shop of his guns and eventually his ankle healed thanks to the medic in The Group and he was suddenly part of the team.”

“Was he nice to you?”

“Yeah. He was really kind. Whenever they used me as bait he insisted on going with. He said it was so we could save me for really bad missions, but I knew it was to protect me. They let him get away with it because he was such a good shot, I think.  Everyone liked him. When the rest of The Group was asleep we'd talk by the fire. Chiyo was afraid of horses," you tell Ellie with a small smile. “Was about the only thing he was afraid of.”

You don't tell her everything. You don't tell of the tender way he fucked you in the wee hours of the morning before The Group rose most mornings. How he whispered that he missed his dead wife and would never dishonor her memory by kissing you. But you hadn’t minded, you understood and you’d both been gentle with each other.

You’d enjoyed getting lost in the sensation of him. Of his cock in your mouth, of your cunt stuffed full of him. The rhythmic sensation of sex that took you out of your body and away from your every day horrors.

You remember how he would hold you, tears sliding onto your collar as he spilled himself onto your belly whimpering his dead wife’s name. How he would thank you over and over with your hand at the base of his skull, mouth against his shoulder while you quietly sobbed your own gratitude.

"After a few months he told me he was escaping. He'd heard about Jackson City and that's where he was headed. He wanted to bring me to see if we could find my Mom."

"Holy shit,” Ellie breathes. “Where is he now?"

"He didn't make it," you tell her tightly.

And now the shield is back in your voice and eyes and she must sense it. Ellie doesn’t press this, seems to understand that there is more there. With a teenagers’ sensibilities and a teenager’s romanticism she asks you her next question.

"Were you in love with him?"

Chiyo is a faint memory, a watercolor blur if you think about him in too much detail. When you try to recall things like the scar over his left eyebrow or the dragon tattoo on his inner thigh. But these are just pieces of him. They aren't him. 

When you think of Chiyo there is a warmth. But it's the warmth that comes from having a benevolent savior. One who never told you that you were in his debt. Yes, you cared for him. Of course you did. He was gentle and he was kind and his heart was soft.

"No," you say firmly. "He was nice though and I cared about him. Probably as close to love as I'll ever get." 

You and Ellie are quiet for a long time.

“I tried saving a bit boy once,” she finally offers. “His name was Sam. Tried rubbing my blood on him. Thought it would save him. It didn’t. He turned and his brother had to kill him before he killed himself.”

You don’t allow yourself to cry. You know that isn’t what Ellie needs right now.

“I’m the reason so many people are dead,” Ellie explains when you say nothing in return. “My Mom died having me. Riley… Tess… Sam…Henry... Ellie’s voice is doing that same detached thing yours does. “Sometimes I honestly think it would be better if I was never born.”

You can’t help the way your arms leap out in front of you to gather the girl into your arms. She tries to fight you on it, flinching from the contact before your unrelenting arms pull her into a tight squeeze, tugging her into your lap. Angry tears slip down her red cheeks, her cries breaking free as you wrestle her into a bear hug.

“I’m so glad you exist, Ellie.”

And then all the fight is gone from her body and she’s sobbing quietly into your shoulder, her tiny frame shaking. You hold her against you, wanting your adoration and affection to move through your body into hers so she knows how much she’s wanted.

“The world would be so much worse without you in it,” you assure her honestly. “You’re special, Ellie. And not because you’re immune. Because you’re smart and brave and funny and you make people like me feel like we’re worth something.”

Her arms wrap around your neck, face in your shoulder and she allows you to continue holding her, rocking her gently in your lap as if she were your own teenage daughter.

“And yes you’re stubborn and you can be annoying,” you add, trying to lighten the mood. “But there’s no one I like talking to as much as I like talking to you. You made me look forward to breakfasts in the dining hall because it meant I got to speak to you.”

“You’re just saying that,” she sniffles, arms loosely circling your neck.

“You don’t like liars, right?” You remind her. “Well I’m not lying. Plus, I know Joel loves you and he doesn’t seem like the kind of guy that loves many people so you must be pretty great.”

Ellie gives a shallow huff of amusement in your shoulder.

“And I know Maria and Tommy adore you just as much if not more than I do. And if you opened up a little more with the kids around here I know they’d love you just as much as we do because you’re a wonderful person. The world would be so much worse without your light, Ellie. You bring light to the darkness.”

You continue rocking her for several moments, waiting until her sobs turn into hiccups and then gentle swallows. Finally she pulls back from you, almost embarrassed at the emotional display. She shuffles back onto the bed, picking at the loose string hanging from her pillow.

“I think I’m cursed.”

“Hey now that’s not true,” you insist. “I’m here aren’t I? How is that a curse? If anything it’s a blessing.”

She gives you a weak smile that you return.

“C’mon, let’s go and finish the pop tarts.”

“We’ll have to start all over again,” Ellie almost whines.

“Then I guess I’ll be staying here a little longer.”

Ellie wipes at her blotchy face, running her hands down her cheeks before nodding and standing abruptly.  You two make it back into the kitchen, surprised to see Joel standing there. His broad shoulders ripple as he works on something in front of him, his back to you.

Ellie sails over to him, her eyes wide when she sees what he’s done. “Wait are those the pop tarts?”

“Yep.”

“I thought they were ruined.”

“Yours were,” Joel shrugs, spreading icing onto one of the homemade pop tarts. “Mine went okay.”

You feel as if you’ve been physically pushed.

Joel baked?

Ellie snags one of the still warm pastries from the plate as Joel starts running the cloth over the counter and wiping the crumbs into the sink. You look at the joy on Ellie’s face as she takes a bite.

“Holy shit, Joel, these are so fucking good.”

“Language,” Joel admonishes over his shoulder, though there’s nothing harsh in it. He turns around, hip resting against the counter.

“I’m gonna have you do all my baking,” Ellie continues as if she hasn’t heard him.  “I’ll just be your taste tester.”

You want to grin at this but all you can do is stare at Joel and the soft way he’s smiling down at Ellie. This open look of adoration you so rarely see. Like there’s this secret Joel inside the mean Joel shell that the privileged few witness.

Joel could never disappoint me.

Joel seems to feel your eyes on him because he blinks over at you, dark eyes darting around your face. His expression is unreadable, but there’s nothing cruel or cold in it. He’s just looking at you, almost as if he’s trying to figure you out as well.  

“Well looks like we’re all set here so I should go,” you start awkwardly, suddenly feeling strangely light headed. Joel steps towards you, brows rising.

“You could stay for a dr-“ Joel begins, but you’ve already made your way to the front door, pulling on your boots and jacket.

Your hands are trembling for some reason and you think it must be all this emotional turmoil you’ve shared with Ellie. It has you feeling vulnerable and exposed and you want to escape home to the safety of your bed, away from soulful brown eyes and soft smiles.

“Ellie you wanna grab breakfast before patrols?”  you ask, studiously ignoring Joel who stands next to her looking at you. You don’t want her to think you’re rushing off and forgetting about her.

“Sure,” Ellie says brightly before motioning to the plate of pastries. “You want any of these to go?”

“Nah, you enjoy them,” you insist with a flash of a smile. “You worked hard.”

You don’t look backwards as you rush out the door of their home and down the sidewalk of Rancher Street, convinced you can feel Joel’s dark gaze on you the entire way.

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

secondary a/n: The other parts I wanted to include in this chapter were gonna bloat this installment into over 10k and I wasn't even finished so I had to break it up!

CHAPTER 11 SPOILERS BELOW THE JOEL

in chapter eleven there be smut.

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@sofiparallel

@bitchesuntitled

@r4vens-cl4ws

[pascal-princess]

[ playing dangerous ]

a/n: this is my first ever fic so pls be kind!! also not proofread so any mistakes i apologise.

— warnings : dark fic (18+), joel isn’t what you think in this, domestic abuse! (not joel), drugging, dom!joel, big!joel/small!reader, age gap (not mentioned but it’s there, around 26 years), kidnap if you squint ig. + plus tommy.

“Joel it’s all kickin’ off next door man”

Tommy’s voice filled his ears through the phone as he sighed… not again… surely.

“What this time?”

“It’s that dude, I ain’t gotta clue what his problem is but she’s gettin’ the brunt of it yet again” Tommy’s eyes scanned through the blinds that were peeled apart by his fingers, peering into your window trying to get a good visual of what was going on.

This had been going on for the past few months, your boyfriend Rick had a bad gambling addiction… and based on his results you’d either get pounded brutally into the bed as his victory celebration, despite your cries. Or… like today; a hissy fit which every time without fail, resulted in bruises and tears, as his anger at his loss seemed to be all your fault.

This time; tommy could hear the heavy thuds of furniture being thrown across rooms, and twinkles of glass that smashed beneath your feet. He could hear the soft whimpers and sobs that left your body as Rick practically screamed at you.

“it’s all your fault you fuckin’ bitch, you make me do this”

“Joel what do i do, man? I can’t jus’ leave er’”

“Stay where you are, I’m comin’ home”

Joel hung up the phone and got into his pick-up truck and began the short drive home; he knew you were a sweetheart, a soft innocent angel who wouldn’t hurt a fly. You always smiled at him and even once baked him cookies, which he admired for a good few days before throwing his diet out the window, consuming the gooey chocolate chip delights you made. He couldn’t understand why you stayed, why you let Rick treat you the way he did. He also couldn’t understand how Rick could treat you such a way.

Maybe you were secretly an awful person, he thought… or hoped. Because the thought of someone as kind and caring as you receiving the exact opposite just because of the fact that you won’t fight back killed him inside. He refused to admit the feeling of jealousy that ached inside of him; but he often thought of what it’d be like to hold you at night, to be the man to make you smile, to wipe away your tears instead of being the dick that caused them.

His anger grew more and more as he approached his driveway, speeding up a bit as he swerved in and pulled to a halt, the tires screeching against the concrete. He threw open his door and made the short walk to your front porch, knuckles thumping against the wood as he waited for a response… that was when he realised… silence.

He banged again and called your name this time, willing you for a response. You could’ve heard a pin drop, and it was scaring him.

He was just about to kick the door down when he heard the lock of the door flick, and watched as it slowly peeled open, too slow.

“Joel?” your cracking voice called his name and he could’ve burst into tears himself.

“Sweetheart, ya’ alright?” he pushed open the door a little more to get a view of your face, and god he wished he hadn’t.

“Honey” He sighed, eyeing the swelling bruise that imprinted itself onto your cheek, the redness of your face from crying just intensifying it.

“Joel, please just go” you kept yourself hidden, yes, Rick was gone. He walked out as soon as he was finished releasing his stress, with the words “i’ll be back later” but you still felt the quivers of fear make their way through your body.

“I can’t do that, you know i can’t” His hands were placed on his hips as he scanned everywhere he could for more marks, and all he could see was bruises, old and new, littered across your arms. Even the softness of your feet covered in dried blood from stepping on the glass.

When that caught his eye he knew you needed attention.

“Right, you’re comin’ over so i can get ya cleaned up” He reached for your hand but you pulled back abruptly.

“I can’t, Joel. I can’t leave”

“Then i’ll carry you”

“You don’t get it!” you raised your voice a little louder to get the message across.

“You’re right, I don’t get it. But I ain’t gonna leave you alone right now so you either move, or I move ya myself”

You sighed, knowing he wasn’t gonna let up, so you made the brave decision to step outside… wincing as your feet made contact with the hard stone below you. Joel was there right away, scooping you up into his arms and hoisting you on one side of his hip as his other hand closed your front door. He eyed you for a moment, making sure he wasn’t hurting you before making his way over to his house.

All the fear coursing through your veins dulled as you felt joel’s touch, he was much bigger than you which at the start intimidated you, but now all you wanted to do was crawl into his embrace and let him take care of your problems.

Joel was one of your favourite people; when you moved in you two immediately hit it off, becoming very quick friends. From what you heard from Tommy, Joel wasn’t the type of person to be overly nice to everyone he meets, but you were different. He would always help you out when you had issues with the plumbing or gas, as Rick was never interested in doing any of that. He would bring over leftovers for you as he knew you struggled to eat after a particularly bad fight. Basically anytime Rick wasn’t there, Joel was. Insisting on taking care of you when things went wrong. Helping you get out of bed, and brushing your hair for you on the worst days.

Tommy was already waiting with the front door open, allowing Joel inside as he carried you through the threshold.

“She alright?” Tommy asked and Joel nodded slightly, taking you through to the kitchen and perching you up on the counter, picking up your leg and inspecting your foot for the first time.

“You gotta’ start wearing shoes, sweetheart”

You gave a slightly amused breath at his words but he wasn’t laughing in the slightest. He was angry.

Angry at me? you thought

He moved to one of the cupboards, pulling out a first aid kit and making his way back to you, pulling a stool over and sitting in front of your legs, pulling your feet into his lap and getting to work with the antiseptic.

“ouch!” you winced as the stinging made its way through your body.

“I know babygirl, m’sorry. i’ll just be a little minute more and then you’re done, m’kay?”

That was another thing that was unusual with Joel, his affection towards you. It was clear that he cared about your feelings, maybe it was just because he knew that you didn’t get much at home… or maybe… just maybe…

“All done, sweet girl” you were pulled from your thoughts as he placed the bloodied cotton pads onto the counter beside you and you winced internally at how much blood there actually was. He picked up a thin bandage and began to wrap each of your feet. making sure the cuts were covered.

“Thank you” you spoke quietly, even when he was finished he still held your feet in his lap, the warmness and softness of his jeans bringing you comfort. It made you yawn and made your limbs stretch slightly.

“You tired?” he asked. You shook your head, you knew he’d have you sleep here if you asked but you didn’t want an excuse to stay any longer, on the off chance that Rick was already on his way home.

“I better get going” Joel’s hands held onto your hips as you slid down off the counter, your feet feeling way better touching the floor than before.

“She ain’t leavin’” Tommy’s voice interrupted the both of you, you turned to face the younger brother who was standing in the door way, essentially blocking your exit.

“I-I have to”

“No frickin’ way!” Tommy protested, raising his voice a bit.

“Tommy” Joel warned.

“No, absolutely not! You think we’re gonna let you go back there after everything that sick son of a bitch has done? You’re fuckin’ crazy”

“You don’t understand” You spoke softly, a whimper caught in the back of your throat.

“No you don’t understand! You wanna fuckin’ die huh? You got some sorta death wish?” Tommy was stepping closer to you, not with the intention of intimidating you but out of pure frustration with you.

“Tommy! Back the fuck off” Joel stepped forward now too, both brothers exchanging looks that told you this had been more than a one time conversation. You couldn’t help the tears that burned your eyes, begging to be released, your lip wobbling with every breath.

Tommy was an incredible friend to you, but he was the harsher one out of the two brothers when it came down to you. Joel was better at hiding his true feelings but Tommy, wouldn’t let you hear the end of it.

“What if one day we ain’t there huh? what’s she gonna do? who’s she gonna run to? If she ain’t already dead by that point” his words were harsh and brought all your emotions to light.

“Stop it! please!” you burst into tears, chest tightening as your sobs began to wrack your body.

Joel was immediately at your side pulling you into his embrace tightly and running his hand through your hair, whispering sweet words.

“M’sorry, honey. But you ain’t leaving tonight and that’s final” Tommy spoke before disappearing into the hallway.

“He ain’t tryna be mean sweetheart” Joel whispered as you clung to him.

“I-I know” you spoke hiccuping through your words.

“He’s just worried about you, and so am I”

You pulled away from Joel’s embrace, wiping your eyes. Of course you knew it was wrong, Of course you knew you could get seriously hurt or end up dead. But if it was that straightforward you would’ve been gone a long time ago.

“Can you at least stay until i get some painkillers in ya’?” Joel asked, and it wasn’t a big ask at all… but to you it felt like a hefty question. But it wouldn’t hurt right? You could take the painkillers then head straight back home as if nothing happened.

You nodded and Joel gave a soft smile, and took your hand, leading you through the house and up the stairs.

“I keep everythin’ in my bathroom cabinet, jus’ better that way” he seemingly answered every question you had without you even having to ask.

He led you to sit on his bed as he went into the bathroom, rummaging for a few moments before returning with little white capsules in his hand, he reached into his night stand and grabbed an unopened bottle of water, twisting the cap and handing you both items.

He watched you carefully as you took the pills, swallowing them with water and taking a few more chugs of the water as you didn’t realise how thirsty you were. You handed the bottle back to him and he placed it back on his nightstand.

His room was so cozy, you had never been up here before. Shades of grey and black accented the room, lights dim and sheets soft, his bed big enough for 4 people never mind just him. You could tell this room probably wasn’t his idea as Joel wasn’t one to prioritise his own comfort. It was so cozy that your eyes began to droop, and your head began to sway.

“Lay down, babygirl” Joel instructed and even came to your side to aid you but you pushed him off.

“Nuh-uh I can’t, have to go home”

“Just lay down for 5 minutes, c’mon i don’t want you passing out” he insisted.

“M’kay, 5 minutes” He helped you lay down as you got comfortable on his plushy sheets, it was almost unusual how sleepy you were. You felt your eyes begin to shut against your will and felt your breathing begin to slow. You were falling asleep, but no matter what you did you couldn’t stop it from overcoming you. Your body drifting into a deep slumber before Joel’s eyes.

If only you’d of seen the bottle of sleeping pills sat out on his bathroom counter.

-

When you woke, it was way darker outside, an ambient light flashing through, you squinted for a minute until you realised it was police lights. You searched your surroundings realising you were wearing a t-shirt and bottoms that did not belong to you, and you were also laying on joel’s pillows, the covers atop of you. You threw the covers off and began to stand up, your sleepiness still coursing through your body. how long did i sleep?

You padded towards the window, looking out and gasping at the sight of Rick being pushed into the back of a police car, his protests actively ignored by the officers, you began to start panicking but something caught your eye, or someone.

Tommy stood on the front porch, a cigarette hanging from his lips as he watched the car drive down the street, the officer driving giving him a wave as they passed… they know each other?

“You’re awake” your body jolted as you spun round to face Joel, who stood in the middle of the room holding a mug of what looked and smelled like tea. He motioned for you to take the mug but you ignored him, eyeing him with a look of betrayal.

“I know you didn’t want this sweet girl but i-”

“Didn’t want this? Joel do you have any fucking idea what you’ve just done? He’s gonna get out and he’s gonna come straight for me, do you understand that?” you ran your hands through your hair, pacing back and forth and contemplating all of your options.

“Hey, hey, hey” Joel sat the mug down and walked over grabbing a hold of your shoulders and pulling you to him. “He ain’t gonna hurt you no more, understand”

You looked into his eyes and saw nothing but pure sureness in his eyes.

“He comes anywhere near ya i’ll kill m’ myself”… again, the sureness… but something else lurked in his irises, something dark.

“You’re not killing anyone Joel” you pulled out of his grip and began to walk away, searching for your lost clothes, rummaging through his wardrobe and under his bed.

“Where’s all my stuff?”

Joel sighed and walked over to you again.

“It’s in the laundry, why are you so desperate to leave? He’s not here anymore” You heard the frustration in his voice but why was he angry at you, it meant you could go home peacefully.

“Because it’s my home, Joel”

“This is your home” He said plainly, which in any other circumstance would’ve been sweet but you couldn’t shake the feeling of something being wrong.

“That’s kind Joel but I really gotta-”

“You think now that i’ve got you i’m just gonna let you go?” He chuckled.

The air shifted as you looked into Joel’s eyes that seemed to have nothing but pure lust for you, he had been drinking.

But it wasn’t until your eyes caught the little orange pill bottle sat open on the counter that it finally clicked. And he noticed when it clicked. His eyes followed yours and he sighed at his mistake, before giving a slight scoff.

“Sorry, probably shoulda’ put that away before”

“Joel?” You grew more and more frightened as the seconds grew by, this wasn’t your Joel. This Joel had something dark and malicious about him.

“Hey, it’s alright sweetheart” he came up and held your face in his hands…

“I’m gonna take care of you now”

-

a/n: please let me know if you want a part two i’d be happy to write one! any comments and reblogs are so greatly appreciated thank you so much for reading.

love, mila🎀

[eyesfullofsttars]

☆ can we always be this close forever and ever?

synopsis: since abby and ellie moved in together, abs has been having trouble sleeping next to her girlfriend. so, one night she decides to stay awake to figure out the problem...

notes: hey!!! this is so silly and short, i'm not completely convinced, but i hope you like it even though it's simple

warnings: none, i think... just fluff!!!

The experience Abby initially endured when sharing a bed with Ellie was challenging. Though it may sound harsh, it was an unexpected issue at the start of their relationship.

At first, Abby thought the problem lay in the bed. She would wake up each morning with unusual back pain, but she dismissed the idea after flipping the mattress three times without seeing any improvement. She even bought a new mattress, but the pain persisted.

When the pain didn't subside, another issue arose: Abby often woke up in the middle of the night without a clear reason, finding Ellie sleeping far from her, mumbling nonsense and seemingly possessed.

Before calling an exorcist to alert them that her girlfriend was possessed by a night demon, Abby decided to talk to Ellie. She looked puzzled and denied everything, stating that she didn't talk, move, or do anything unusual while sleeping.

For a few days, Abby thought she might be the problem. However, her pride rejected that notion, so she decided to stay awake one night to observe Ellie while she slept, looking for any irregularities.

The evening started with Abby wishing her girlfriend goodnight, receiving a kiss on the cheek in return as Ellie nestled close, resting her head on Abby's chest.

Less than thirty minutes passed before Ellie fell into a deep sleep and then disrupted her peaceful slumber. Her relaxed expression turned into a furrowed brow, and she began tossing and pushing Abby away while continuously mumbling.

With some fear of being kicked by Ellie (which explained her pains), Abby decided to move away, sitting up in bed and giving her space. Ellie rested at the other end of the bed, unable to stop murmuring in her sleep.

Abs remained silent, focused on Ellie’s facial expressions, which showed neither dreamy relaxation nor peace but rather fear and distress. Abby quickly realized her girlfriend was having a nightmare and didn’t hesitate to interrupt.

"Babe," Abby whispered softly, carefully approaching Ellie and gently shaking her shoulder. "You're having a nightmare, Els. Wake up..."

Just a few gentle movements on her shoulder were enough for Ellie to wake up, her green eyes wide with fear. She sat up quickly, placing her hand over her chest as if scared her heart might escape.

"Fuck." That was the only thing that came from Ellie's lips as she tried to regulate her breathing while Abby gently stroked her back up and down. "Did I wake you?"

"No, no," Abby replied immediately, slowly shaking her head to assure Ellie that everything was fine. "Do you feel better? It must have been a terrible nightmare."

"No, not really. I've had the same nightmares since I was a child," Ellie murmured, as if being so disturbed during sleep was her normal reality instead of a peaceful dream.

"Would you like to talk about it? Your nightmares..." Abby proposed, seeking a possible solution to ease Ellie's mind. "Maybe that would help you rest better."

"No fucking way," Ellie responded quickly, firmly shaking her head and leaving no room for further suggestions. "I know they're not real, but I can't escape them."

"What can I do to help you? You don't want to discuss this with me, so..." Abby said, trying to assist her girlfriend in solving her sleep problems, even if Ellie didn't want to share her nightmares with her.

"I don't know, wake me up?" Ellie offered that solution with a frown, unsure of how to handle her nightmares. "Hold me close so I don't move around? Can you do that with your strong arms?"

Abby let out a small laugh at Ellie's comment, who smiled lightly at hearing her girlfriend's chuckle.

"Maybe if I hold you, you'll feel safer and the nightmares will seem less real," Abby replied, considering Ellie's suggestion.

"Just hold me if you see me getting worked up, and if it's too much, wake me up," Ellie agreed, moving a bit closer to Abby in bed.

"Your solution is just an excuse to sleep curled up next to me, Williams," Abby quipped playfully, rolling her eyes and taking advantage of the new closeness to kiss Ellie's cheek. "You really are obsessed with me, aren't you?"

"Oh no, you've discovered my terrible secret," Ellie responded, following Abby's teasing with an exaggerated sigh. "I've been faking nightmares to be the clingiest girlfriend. Now you can't escape."

"What a shame you have to resort to this for some affection," Abby joked without hesitation. "Aren't you embarrassed to take advantage of my kindness?"

Suddenly, the sweet cheek kisses Abby gave Ellie became less innocent as she trailed down to her jaw and neck.

"You can't deny my plan worked," Ellie said, shrugging and giggling at Abby's comment and the tingling sensations from the neck kisses.

It could be said with certainty that, after weeks of discomfort, sharing a bed with Ellie finally became a dream for Abby.

In the end, before going to sleep, after wishing each other goodnight and saying "I love you," Ellie would snuggle into Abby's chest, while Abs wrapped her arm around her, pulling her closer.

They simply lay down each night under the dinosaur-themed sheets of the bed, embracing each other, regardless of the weather, seeking comfort in each other's arms and sleeping soundly with dreams instead of nightmares.

And perhaps one night, Abby will wake her, and in the darkness, Ellie might begin to whisper her nightmares without any fear of sharing those terrible dreams about her past that continue to haunt her. By becoming vulnerable in front of Abby, who devotedly seeks nothing more than to comfort and and help ease her nightmares.

[burntheedges]

maintenance request ch 19 preview

a/n: what's this? kink negotiation? tags/warnings: kink negotiation 😏

main post & chapter list

...

“There is something I wanted to ask you about, honey.” You turned to look at him where he was washing a pot as you dried your plates.

“Oh? About what?” You saw a tiny smirk in the corner of his mouth and narrowed your eyes.

“Just about what you said, when we were in bed after our first date.” You were suddenly warm, feeling the heat enter your cheeks. But you also appreciated that Joel was bringing this up while you were doing something so totally unrelated to sex. So you could focus. Or try to, anyway.

“Yeah, I remember.” You bit your lip.

He cleared his throat. “Ah, well, did you, um. Can you tell me more about what you like?"

...

a/n: that's right, it's somnophilia week this Friday on Maintenance Request! don't forget to tune in 😏

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[thefruitiestofbois]

We just needed time- pt2

"Maria I'm going. It's final." My tone is icy as I make my point. I stand by my decision and I'm not turning back now.

"It isn't safe. You don't know how many of them there are- in fact you don't even know where you're going."

"Seattle. That's where I'm going." I counter and Maria slams a finger down onto the table in disapproval. Mostly she's frustrated that I'm insisting on going alone. It would be safer that way, less chance somebody else dies because of me.

"Deep down you know that it's better I get to them first before they come back with bigger numbers. Before they come back to Jackson. It's safer." She holds my gaze, nostrils flared, defeat crawling up her face. "You can't stop me." I add before she swipes her greying hair behind her ears as Tommy offers a comforting squeeze on the shoulder. Almost as if to tell her that all three of us in the room know I'll just sneak out without her blessing. Two weeks ago Dina and I ran into a group from Washington looking for a smuggler and a girl. They told us they weren't looking for trouble and that they just wanted to know where a man by the name of Joel Miller was as well as the girl he smuggled. Obviously, we both said nothing. Didn't even tell them he was already dead because Abby, who I assumed was the leader, seemed to be on some kind of vengeance mission. She seemed disappointed that we didn't know him and not the type of disappointment where she wishes she could just reunite with him, but the type that was fuelled by vengeance. She looked pissed. If reading the room hadn't been enough, the day after, when I tailed them to the mansion, I overheard Abby telling some Owen guy that she would be back and that she'd 'storm Jackson and find Joel and Ellie, no matter the cost'.

I've been battling Maria for the past two weeks and avoiding Ellie. Not that avoiding her was difficult to do, she seemed to be doing the exact same. If I could go to Seattle and tell them Joel was already dead, maybe Jackson would be safe. Maybe Ellie would be safe. That was my redemption. Maybe if I couldn't keep Joel alive, I could keep Ellie out of harm's way. I wasn't looking for forgiveness, I knew Ellie would never give me that, but maybe I could earn her neutrality to replace the hatred she had for me. Or maybe I wanted to replace the hatred I had for myself.

"Just let her go, she'll probably be fine." Tommy soothingly attempts to convince her. She forces out a huff of angry air and just nods.

"Thank you." The hint of desperation in my words softens Maria's authoritative demeanour and she walks around the table and tugs me into a hug. A tight one at that and I wrap my arms around her, a silent cue that I'll be okay.

"You better not get yourself in trouble, or so help me God I will kill you myself. You got that?" I hum and head straight to the stables.

Ellie coincidentally happens to be returning from patrol when I'm loading up my saddles for what anyone could tell to be a lengthy journey. I had told Tommy to convince Maria to clear my house out just in case.

"Where are you going?" Ellie asks and its the first words she's spoken to me since our patrol a few weeks ago. Maria knew something was off so she didn't pair us together after that, especially after Dina and I's run in with the WLFs.

"Seattle." With that I mount my horse and ride out, not explaining myself further and leaving Ellie and Jackson behind me.

//

Gunfire and screams echo in the distance towards the direction of a stadium or arena. Conflict seemed to be pretty common and from what I've gathered after spending a few weeks in Seattle on my solo adventure, I've learnt a few things. There are two groups- the Scars and the Wolves, who I presumed were the WLF. They hated each other to the point where it was kill on sight. I'd been caught in the crossfire a few times, nothing major though, just flesh wounds. I've also learnt the Scars are some kind of cult and they worship some prophet, whose murals were scattered throughout Seattle. I had just come through a quarantine zone and a hotel with the WLF banner paraded on the front. The buildings here were tall and close together- great for hiding but horrible to navigate through.

My plan was to find a patrol and peacefully offer myself up but so far everyone has trigger happy, even at the snap of a twig. Seattle was at war, that much was obvious but the cause was still unknown to me. Not that I cared. I was here for Abby and the Wolves. The faster I could deliver my message, the faster I could go back to Jackson.

Everything was darker in Seattle, the clouds, the blitzed buildings and roads and even the plants and grass were a dark green. As I wade through the overgrown bushes in some park I stumbled into on my way to the hospital, a whistle further away on the opposite causes me to instinctually duck to cover. Seraphites. I was wondering if I'd encounter anymore of them. I go prone, keeping my body glued to the mud no matter what.

"We caught the apostate and the wolf. All that's left is to free them. May She guide us." That's all I make out as I crawl behind a barely recognisable bus stop, screwing my silencer onto my pistol, just in case. Another whistle, sharper this time, breaks the silence and I'd come to recognise it as a warning whistle, Well a warning for me and a signal to the other Seraphites that someone was hiding nearby. And then quiet. So quiet I held my breath just so I wouldn't be heard. Finger ready on the trigger I begin slowly creeping out behind the cover of the bus stop, and upon seeing the coast is clear, launch myself for the park exit.

"Right there by the bus stop!" I hear one of them call out but I don't look back as I race, chest heaving, to just make it out of here. But then I hear a bow firing and very quickly afterwards feel the searing hot pain of an arrow ripping through my right shoulder. Another bow fires an arrow into my left calf and I drop to the jagged concrete below, breath staggering as I clutch my shoulder which was now pooling blood through my shirt and jacket. I crawl as fast as I can away from the thumping footsteps that are getting closer with each passing second. I grunt out, clutching my shoulder tighter as agony rips through me as I aimlessly crawl forward.

The thumping stops by my ear and a strong hand throws me onto my back, knocking the wind out of my chest. My dazed eyes meet ones with a satisfied sadistic glint accompanied by scarred cheeks pulled up as his lips curve into a smile.

"Look's like we've caught another Wolf for us to free."

//

As I stir awake, I wince as my restraints pull my arms back behind a wooden pole and widen the wound in my shoulder.

"Look's like the wolf is awake." The same man who knocked me out in the park pokes me with a wooden bat, forcing my attention onto him.

"How many times do I have to say it, I'm not a WLF." My voice barely makes it through my chapped and busted open lips and even then it was barely a whisper. This was routine- the man, who I now knew was called Marcus, would come in every night, rough me up, ask me questions and then acquaint me with his bat every time I answered a question wrong. And apparently, all my answers so far were wrong. I think seven or eight days must have passed since the day they caught me. Maybe more. I don't know because I hadn't exactly been conscious the whole time I was here.

"Where is your leader?" He asks, fingers twitching around the handle of the bat, which by now I'm sure had been stained red with my own blood.

"Like I said before, I'm not even from this state so I have no idea what you cultist freaks are talking about." This time a faint echo of a laugh escapes my lips. Same questions, same answers, same beatings. I think I was starting to lose it. And as if Marcus knew his cue, he raises the bat, this time swinging into my side and I cry out but quickly gritting my teeth so he doesn't get the satisfaction. I fold into myself as much as my restraints and position on the floor allow me to. If I ever get out of here, I'm gonna swing that bat into his head so many times that he'll be a pile of bloody brains and wooden splints by the time I'm done with him.

A woman comes into the room and whispers something to Marcus and he seems somewhat disappointed and angry I think? The room itself was a shipping container turned into a makeshift interrogation/torture room. A single floodlight at the back of the room that always lit up Marcus' face while leaving me an aching shadowy creature for his amusement. Although I think he'd have no issue with inflicting pain even as he looked into my eyes. My head dips low as the exhaustion I've been fighting off for days finally creeps up into my eyelids.

I wince again as Marcus prods me in the same bruised spot he hit earlier and I jolt awake.

"No time to sleep wolf, we're taking you to be freed." Call it a hunch but I don't think my version of being freed and theirs matches up. Marcus keeps a gun trained on me as the woman unties me, not even bothering to lift me up fully before dragging me by the back of my collar out the container and over muddy tracks further into the forest. Dirt scrapes into the tips of my worn out boots and the more she tugs at my collar, the more I feel my airways constrict and my head getting lightheaded. It's only when she throws me into the ground and I finally see the sky for the first time in a week that I regain some of my senses. Adrenaline surges through and every hair on my body stands up as corpses of gutted prisoners swing above me, some with their necks snapped as a rope is the only thing keeping them in the air. Well shit. I guess I'm not getting out of here. Like ever.

Another prisoner gets thrown into the ground next to me and when I meet their eyes, I'm shocked to see the one face I had set off to Seattle for- Abby fucking Anderson. She stares at me blankly for a few moments before the realisation sets in.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" She laughs in disbelief, eyes still blown wide.

"Well as luck would have it, I actually came to find you."

"Me? What do you want me-"

"Shut the fuck up!" The high shrieking voice of a woman orders us and I tilt my chin to get a look at her. Dread slowly freezes every muscle as I see her wipe her bloody knife with a cloth- a knife she had just pulled out of a strung up girl. The girl, who was still swinging, must have been no older than twelve. These sick fucks were torturing and gutting children. Throwing the cloth into the fire they'd set in a barrel, she edges towards us, calmly. She remained expressionless even as she knelt down to push the tip of the knife into my throat- enough to draw some blood but not enough to do any real damage.

"You have such beautiful features." The cool tip of the blade glides across my cheekbones and jaw.

"Beautiful enough to spare my life?" I was grasping at smoke but there's no rule dictating what someone can and can't say in their last moments.

"I see this one has a sense of humour. I think She will be pleased with sacrifice." Well that was not where I was hoping she was going. "Who knows maybe you might have the blood of Restoration flowing through you." These people are batshit crazy.

"Restoration?" I ask, genuinely baffled and Abby's attention is also drawn into our exchange.

"We found scriptures from the Prophet that have guided us to a new goal: a cure for the horrors mankind has inflicted upon this world. We are no longer atoning for these sins, but instead She will guide us to a new world. One in which demons are no more and only the best of us will thrive." A cure?

"Who exactly is the Prophet?"

"You question the faith?" She jabs at me with a sharpness exceeding that of the knife in her hand, eyes narrowed into slits.

"What's the blood of Restoration?" This time it's Abby who speaks and I know why she's asking. She was part of the Salt Lake crew and I was praying she wouldn't give anything away. My eyes silently plead with hers and she looks away from me, her face neutral.

"The scriptures tell us of an individual whose blood can cure this world of its demons. Their body must be purified and their blood spilled."

"Purified?" I can't help the anxious shift in my tone but I try and play it off as curiosity. The woman says nothing, and her silence is all I need to make my own assumptions. I silently beg Abby once more, this time a subtle shake of my head when the woman's back is turned away as she fixes two sets of rope into nooses. She turns back to me and Abby, a noose in her hand and she paces forward to Abby, tossing it around her neck and tightening it. Abby struggles against the restraints, her tip toes barely reaching the upside down bucket that's stopping her from hanging.

A Seraphite comes rushing into the opening of the forest we were in and calls out to the woman.

"The other Wolf confessed. We know who has the cure." Grins adorn both their faces, and a trembling frown appears on my own. He mutters something else to her but it's too quiet for me to hear over the sounds of Abby struggling. If I could just find something to cut myself free. But there's nothing. No way I could escape.

"Outsider, where did you say you were from?" I realise she's talking to me and I keep my lips tight. The flickering of the torch is slowly growing brighter as the sky grows darker and darker. Another storm must be coming. I drop my head back into the mud ignoring her and accepting reality. I was going to die and so was Ellie. My journey here had been for nothing.

Marcus rushes in, heavy thudding footsteps hammering into the ground as he pants out of breath that the 'apostate' has escaped. Well I guess someone would get out of this shithole, it just wouldn't be me.

"Go. Spread the word that our goal is completely clear: we must find the girl in Jackson and bring her to Haven." No, no, no. Fuck. Who told these sick freaks about Ellie? I was supposed to keep her safe and instead, she's going to die without even so much as a warning. I desperately needed to get out of here.

As Marcus hurries away, the whistle of an arrow fills the air and the woman drops limp to the mud as an arrow pierces her skull through her eyes. Lighter steps patter against the dirt and relief floods through Abby as she looks past me to a small child with their head shaved and scars on their cheeks just like the other Seraphites.

"Lev, thank god." Abby strains out as they cut her down, a thud sounding as she falls to the floor, heavy pants as she gets rid of the noose, red marks spanning her neck and mud smeared over her tank top. I drop my head back to the ground, staring up at the grey clouds and swaying branches until Abby's bulky figure comes into view, blocking the sun like some muscular eclipse.

"You're uh- you're blocking my sunlight." She questioningly raises a brow. "I'd like to spend my last few moments bathing in the light, I don't think they have a sun in the afterlife."

"Are you always this stupid?" She asks, still looming over me.

"Only when I'm close to death."

"You're not dying dumbass. Lev untie her. You're coming with us so you can explain exactly why you came to Seattle for me."

[megangovier]

The Hitchhiker

Perv!Joel x hitchhiker fem!reader

word counter: 863

Summary: You're walking on the road in the middle of the night, hitchhiking your way to get home. A car stops and let you in Joel's calm demeanor hides a secret.

CW: 18+ only - smut!, dirty talk, manhandling, oral m, slight choking, degrading, p in v, breeding kink, hunter/prey, dub-con, biting, aftercare, LITERAL FILTH - minors do not interact!

Hitchhiking wasn't always the best thing to do, at times it could get scary you would get mugged or in return be asked for sexual favours which you were vehemently against. Your car had broken down and was in the fixer's so at night you would walk miles from a friend's house just to get home, but that night was different a handsome man showed up and accepted to take you for a ride home his charming demeanor is what attracted you to him. Joel was a talkative guy, asking where you're going and that he was heading the same way to see a friend.

It was 23:30 and Joel's been driving for two hours now, heading deeper into the tree's of the woods a confused look on your face appeared, fear started to rise in your chest looking at the man beside you a smirk slipped onto his face *um - sir I think we're going the wrong way, my house was 25 miles back that way* as Joel reached the cabin he turned off the engine and looked at you. Sweat was dripping down your neck and goosebumps appeared on your arms *I'm know around this area as the local perv, I hunt down attractive women and breed them* a pang of panic attacked your system, grabbing the door opening it you had ran out into the woods and hid behind the tree.

Putting your hand over your mouth to calm down your breathing, footsteps could be heard a few yards behind you *come on pretty girl, don't be like that - it's okay you're safe, as long as you're good for me* something started to throb making it uncomfortable so you rubbed your thighs together for some sort of friction. As he was coming up beside you, slowly you moved around the tree stupidly stepping on a twig. Joel sneaked up behind you and wrapped his hand around your neck *found you bunny - now get on your knees for me and open that pretty mouth of yours* ignoring what he just said his jaw was clenching and eyes filled with anger *be like that then - I'll force you down* as he did a squeal left your lips.

*now princess - undo my belt and put that cock in your mouth* still hesitating he had grabbed your chin aggressively and looked you in the eyes *if I was you I would listen - you wouldn't want to see me angry* something in his eyes darkened. Undoing his belt and opening your mouth he slipped out his cock and slapped it on your face, laughing about it tears started to appear, you've never been so degraded it was pathetic. You're now regretting your decision getting into the stranger's car. Grabbing his cock you slid it into your mouth.

*what a pathetic little bitch - taking my cock like a hungry cock sleeve, you're so enjoying this aren't you being throat fucked by a perv in the woods* the more he degraded you the more your pussy was getting wetter, his voice was like honey. Bobbing your head faster, sliding his hand into your hair grunts and moans left his mouth making you moan on his cock, taking you out your mouth saliva was dripping down your chin *fuck - you dirty little girl* grabbing your face he kissed your tongue tasting himself making him harder.

You're now on all fours, ass up and waiting Joel to breed you *what a pretty view - now I'm gonna turn you into a mommy, the way your breasts will grow with milk and stomach swell with my babies* hearing that your face turns hot red and pussy clenches around nothing. Positioning himself against your slick entrance Joel grabs your hips and slides his throbbing cock into you. *Fuck baby, you feel so damn good - the way your pussy takes my cock so we'll, was literally made for me and no-one else, my pretty little slut* clenching around him he grabbed your hair from behind and nibbled on your neck making you clench even more *if you keep going like that princess, clenching around me - I'm going to fucking explode into your tight cunt* the thought of him filling you up turning you into a mommy makes you so turned on.

Switching positions now he was on the floor, you were slowly taking his cock into your hand and slamming down onto him. Putting your hand onto his neck he put his hand around your wrist growling and grunting like an animal in heat he was so close now from breeding you *please bite me while i come into you, I'm so close* sliding your hand into his hair, pulling it back exposing his neck your mouth attaches to the sweet spot on his neck making him moan *harder darling* as you did what you were told, his body convulsed legs shaking, drool running down the corner of his mouth. Eyes rolling at the back of his head *fuck, baby take it all* he said while shooting his load into you.

exhausted you both collapse onto the floor, crawling up to him he kisses your forehead *you did so well for me*

For my depraved miller sluts 🥴

[javiscigarette]

Teacher's Pet

Joel Miller x virgin f!reader

Summary: 25 years old, anxiety-ridden, and still a virgin, you ask your friend Joel for advice on your upcoming date. But you're more of a...hands-on learner. And he's more than happy to help. 

Warnings: PWP, unbalanced power dynamics, virgin!reader, neighbor/bff/more experienced! Joel, age gap, first kiss, virginity loss, fingering, oral (f receiving), frequent check-ins, soo much banter and Joel is a menace also so soft and sweet :')....(ends on a cliffhanger but there will be a part two I swear).

w/c: 7.7k idk what happened

a/n: I am resurfacing for your monthly reminder that I do in fact still write!! Inspiration for this came out of literally nowhere but I took it and RAN with it and I think I like it?? As always, thank you to my baby love @undrthelights for helping me with this and always listening to my rambling and for being my biggest enabler Ilysm

Part Two

my masterlist

"Fine! What if, hypothetically speaking of course, you were to, hypothetically, give me a, um, hypothetical, lesson or whatever." Your heart is pounding so hard you can feel your pulse throb in your neck pound in your ears. You slowly drag your hands away from your face and look at him. He stares right back at you, brows furrowed. "A what?" "Forget it. forget I said anything,” you mutter, shaking your head.  "No no wait, hang on, what do you mean? A lesson? Like a…a sex lesson?” 

"Seriously, Joel. Fuck off" you snap but with no bite or heat behind it. You bring the sweating bottle of beer to your lips and finish the rest of the now lukewarm liquid off in one gulp. 

"What? I just find it hard to believe that you've never even had a kiss. Didn't you go to high school? Didn't you ever get invited to a party? Didn't you go to college? College kids do the do like all the time” 

"Clearly not all the time" you mutter, a tad bitterly.

Joel raises his hands defensively and takes a sip of his own beer. "Just seems crazy is all. There's gotta be some chick or dude out there willing to take pity on you and pop your cherry."

You audibly gag at his choice of words. "I don't need a pity fuck, thanks." You stand from the couch and head over to the fridge. The bottles of cold alcohol inside are calling your name and you want something that will help soothe your nerves. You're not a big drinker, but when Joel is prying into your love life like he is now, you wish you were.

"Okay,” he starts from the living room. “Maybe I worded that wrong. What I meant to say was, there's gotta be someone out there who would be more than willing to show you a good time."

You groan and let your forehead fall against the fridge door. "That's the whole point! I came here to get advice for my date, someone who might actually be interested in me, and all you've done is make fun of me for not having fucked anyone yet. So thanks, Joel. You're a real pal."

You push away from the fridge and slam the door shut, a second beer in hand.

"Alright, alright, calm down." He says, hands in the air as if you were holding him at gunpoint as you head back to the couch. "Look, if this guy really likes you then he's not gonna care. Probably won't even be able to tell if you are or aren't."

"You think so?" You ask hopefully.

"Well, I mean, unless you're like... super bad."

Your heart drops into your stomach and you glare at him, "Joel."

"Oh come on, I'm kidding. You're not gonna be bad, okay? Just, go into it with an open mind and just relax. If he tries something you're not comfortable with or makes you feel weird, tell him. And if he gets pissy, dump his ass."

"That simple, huh?" You scoff.

"Well, yeah. You're the one who made it complicated by thinking it was a big deal."

"It is a big deal, Joel! I know nothing!

"Nothing? You ain’t ever watched porn? Jesus, I had no idea you were such a prude."

You can't stop yourself from rolling your eyes and slapping the back of your hand against his arm. He yelps and laughs, rubbing his arm.

"I've watched porn before" you retort. 

"What kind?" he asks with a wiggle of his brows.

"None of your fucking business" you respond, feeling your face heat up.

Joel's lips quirk into a shit-eating grin and you're quick to smack him again.

"Okay okay, sorry!" he says through his laughter. "So what exactly are you afraid of?"

You're not really sure how to answer. It's a combination of so many things, most of which are irrational fears and insecurities. Sure you've seen it all done before, but you're well aware that none of it is realistic. At least, not completely. And just the fact that you're freshly 25 years old without a single notch in your bedpost makes you dizzy with anxiety. It's not like you're saving yourself or anything, it's just that hook up culture has never agreed with you and there's never been an opportunity that made you feel like it was the right one. That is until now, with your cute coworker who you thought was miles out of your league asking you out on a third date. And now, the prospect of being in bed with him is looming over you like a dark cloud and the last thing you want to do is mess it up.

"I guess, I'm just afraid that he's gonna be disappointed, or I'm gonna weird him out, or I'm gonna do something wrong and embarrass myself.” Joel nods along and listens. "And if it is bad then we still have to work with each other and then what if it's awkward and everyone knows about it and then he hates me and--"

"Okay, whoa slow down there, buddy" Joel says, putting a hand on your shoulder. "One, you're overthinking this. You're literally thinking like, five steps ahead of what's actually going on. It's a date. And even if it does end up in the bedroom, you don't have to do anything you don't want to. No one's forcing you, okay? He can't. No one can."

"I know, but I want to," you reply quietly.

"Alright. Then do."

"I don't know howwww!! " you whine, flopping backwards into the couch.

Joel groans and sits up a little straighter, scrubbing a hand down his face. 

"Well, there's no magic trick, I don't have a secret sex manual I'm holding out on ya."

You sigh, shoulders sagging as you look over at him. The idea comes out of nowhere, well, not exactly from nowhere, but it pops in your head so fast that you then have to bite your tongue before the words bubbling up from your throat come tumbling out. 

It's not a bad idea, not necessarily. 

You've been good friends with Joel ever since you moved in next door last year. An unlikely pairing, a 40 year old contractor and an almost 25 year old office worker. But after offering him a six pack as part of introducing yourself to the neighbors, you'd gotten along famously. He fixes things around your house and you send him home with hot dinners and warm, gooey cookies.

 It's an easy friendship, open and honest and supportive, and Joel has never given you reason not to trust him. He's a good guy, if not a little brash, but you know deep down he means well. And it doesn't hurt that he's objectively attractive, with his tall and sturdy frame, strong, calloused hands, dark messy curls....It's not a bad idea.

It's an absolutely insane idea. 

You continue to stare at him, clenching your teeth together to hold back the question sitting on the tip of your tongue.

"What?" he says, looking back at you.

"Nothing" you mutter, eyes flicking away.

"You've got that face you make when you're about to say something really stupid, so just get it out."

You glare at him again, not enjoying the way he can read you so well.

"I wasn't gonna say anything."

"Well now you're lying."

"I'm not."

"You're doing it again!"

"Doing what?!"

"That face!"

"I'm not making a face!"

"Yes you are! Just spit it out!"

You groan and hide your face in your hands. You blame it on the one beer even though you know you’re not anywhere close to being drunk because how else would you justify what you’re about to say? You wait a moment, thinking about the weight of it but your mouth opens before you can stop yourself. 

"Fine! What if, hypothetically speaking of course, you were to, hypothetically, give me a, um, hypothetical, lesson or whatever."

Your heart is pounding so hard you can feel your pulse throb in your neck and hear it in your ears. You slowly drag your hands away from your face and look at him. He stares right back at you, brows furrowed.

"A what?"

"Forget it. forget I said anything,” you mutter, shaking your head. 

"No no wait, hang on, what do you mean? A lesson? Like a…a sex lesson?” 

His eyes are wide, and he looks incredulous. You can't blame him, because the more time that passes between your suggestion and now, the more ridiculous the idea seems.

"I’m sorry, that was…It was stupid. Pretend I didn't say anything. Let's just watch a movie." You move to grab the remote, but Joel's hand covers yours, stopping you.

"Is that what you want?"

You look at him, searching his expression for any sign of disgust or apprehension. But all you can see is the same Joel you've known for months, patient, warm, and understanding.

"I know. I know it's stupid. But I can't get this date out of my head, Joel. It's all I can think about and the more I do, the more worried I get and I just don't want to fuck it up. And I know we're friends and this is weird and gross, but I just thought that... maybe, I could have some practice, so to speak."

He doesn't say anything. Just keeps looking at you, the panic rising in your chest the longer the silence stretches. You start to fidget, wringing your hands together in your lap.

"I'm sorry, that was way out of line" you say, moving to stand up, your skin sweaty and hot with embarrassment and your feet ready to run out the door and never come back. 

But Joel catches your wrist, gently pulling you back down to sit next to him.

"Joel" you whine, not wanting him to humiliate you any further.

"It's okay, come here."

His voice is softer than before, and his eyes are kind. You let him pull you closer, the two of you sitting knee to knee. You can't bring yourself to look him in the eyes, not with your cheeks and the tips of your ears burning like they are, but Joel doesn't push. He simply moves his hand from your wrist, sliding it into yours. His palms are rough and warm, and the simple touch alone is comforting.

"You really wanna do this?” he asks softly. You can feel his eyes boring into you. “I mean, I'm not exactly a prize winning catch. And it's not like there's a shortage of willing men out there."

You shrug and chew the inside of your lip.

"Yeah, but you're my friend and I...I trust you."

There's another pause, and you wish that you could just disappear into the couch and erase this moment from your memory.

"How drunk are you?" he asks, glancing at the beer bottle on the coffee table.

"You saw me finish one bottle. And half of another. I’m barely tipsy."

"Not drunk?”

"Nope."

"You're gonna remember this tomorrow."

"Uh huh."

"And you still want to?"

You groan for the millionth time and squeeze his hand.

"Yes I want to! Look, if you don't want to then that's fine. It was just a dumb suggestion and we can just forget this ever happened."

He hums, considering your words. His hand slips out of yours, and you think that's it, you've scared him off and washed the friendship down the drain. That you'll have to hide from him from now on, that you'll have to pack your things up and move because the mortification would be too much, and that he'll hate you, and—

His two fingers sliding under chin surprise you, and he tilts your head up. He's looking down at you with that same even expression, eyes big, soft, and warm as he slides his hand over to cup your jaw in his palm. 

"If you want to stop at any point, just say so, okay? I won't be upset and we can go back to the way things were before. Got it?"

You nod, your throat suddenly too tight to speak. His thumb sweeps over your cheekbone, the tender touch is enough to make your heart skip a beat. There’s no way this is actually happening. That your first kiss is going to be with your 40 year old menace of a neighbor. That you’re going to, how did you put it, get a sex lesson from him. His gaze flicks down to your lips and back up to your eyes and you’re positive you’re no longer able to breathe. 

"Can I kiss you?" he asks softly. You nod. 

You're sure he can hear the thumping of your heart in his own ears as he leans down. His other hand comes to rest on your hip and when his lips touch yours, a soft, tentative pressure, you're not prepared for the electricity that shoots through you.

He's barely done anything and already you feel like you're floating. Your own hands reach out to clutch his shirt, keeping him close, afraid he'll pull away and leave you cold and wanting if you don't. But he stays put, pressing himself against you, his lips working gently against yours. You follow his lead, kissing him back while trying not to overthink it.

It's nothing like the kisses in the movies or the books, where fireworks explode behind your eyelids or where your foot pops up in the air. It's far more subdued, more quiet and subtle. But the warmth that pools low in your belly and the goosebumps that erupt on your skin when his tongue slides against the seam of your lips, light and quick, makes you absolutely melt. 

He pulls back before you can really react, and you're left with a dizzying rush of both blistering desire and excruciating anxiety. You want to pull him back in and never let him go. But your heart is beating so fast you can hardly breathe, your nerves are buzzing, and the urge to run and hide is nearly paralyzing. 

"Was it bad?" you ask tentatively, cheeks heated.

"No" he replies, giving your hip a squeeze as a smirk plays on his lips. "It was fucking awful. Worst kiss of my life"

"Shut up!" you hiss, pushing him away with a hand on his chest. He laughs, the sound easing some of the tension in your body. 

"I'm just teasing" he says, voice dropping lower. "C'mere, we can work on it."

His lips find yours again, and you try not to smile into the kiss but it's hard when you can feel the way his lips are quirked up as well. It doesn’t take much else to get you to relax and let yourself fall into the moment, into the gentle press of his mouth and the warm hands on your hip and your cheek. He swipes his tongue against your lips again, his fingers pressing lightly into the hinge of your jaw to tilt your head back and coax your lips apart.

You let him, sighing as his tongue glides across yours, hot and smooth and sweet. Your hands slide up his chest, finding purchase around his shoulders, and when you move forward, pushing yourself against him, he grunts softly but lets you. He kisses you until the both of you are gasping for air, and when he pulls back, his lips are wet and red and you're certain yours must be as well.

"Better?" you ask, a bit breathless.

"Getting there" he answers with, his breath warm where it fans across your cheek. 

"You're such a liar" you say with a goofy smile.

"Yeah, I know. Now try again, practice makes perfect.” 

You roll your eyes but lean back in nonetheless. It's a bit more heated this time, the feeling of his teeth nibbling on your bottom lip making you squirm. His hand rounds over your hip, palm smoothing to the small of your back to pull you closer, the heat of his body radiating through your clothes and warming your skin. Your hands move on their own accord, no thought behind the action as they slide up to his shoulders and then his neck, your fingers finding home in the curls at the base of his skull. When you give them a slight tug, you're rewarded with a muffled grunt from Joel. Emboldened, you pull back, lips swollen and tingling.

"You’re a good kisser,” you pant. "Is that something people usually say?"

"When it’s true" he says, grinning at you. "And since I know you're gonna ask, I'd say that was a C+, maybe a B-."

You scoff but blush furiously at the smile he flashes, his eyes crinkling in the corners.

"Well then, tell me what to do next. What do I need to know?"

Joel hums as he thinks for a moment. 

"What do you want to do?"

You stare at him for a second, blinking.

"I don't know, that's why I'm asking you" you say, shaking your head a bit.

"Well, how far do you want to take this?"

You swallow hard, suddenly feeling very shy. You can’t deny that when the idea popped in your head it was accompanied by the mental image of you naked, spread out on his bed, but the actual act of asking him, or better yet, actually doing it is... intimidating to say the least. Are you really about to let him go all the way, to see you bare and vulnerable, let him pop your cherry as he would disgustingly put it? All just to “prepare” for a date with a guy who might not even like you that way?

Yeah, probably.

"All the way" you answer. “I want to go all the way” 

He doesn’t pounce on you like you expected, doesn’t press his lips against yours in a frenzied kiss that you had half hoped for. Instead, he simply looks at you, his brown eyes boring into yours, searching.

"Are you sure? You can always say no and you're not gonna lose me as a friend if this isn’t what you actually want. I don’t want you thinking that."

You can't help the laugh that bubbles up and slips out, because of course Joel, your kind, thoughtful Joel, would say that. He's a good man. A great one, even.

"Yes, I'm sure. But if you don't, I get it, I can just leave and-"

Joel laughs, the sound traveling up from deep in his chest, the rumble vibrating against you.

"Sweetheart, I wouldn't be doin’ this if I didn't want to. Just makin’ sure this is what you really want."

"I want it.” 

He squeezes your hip and swipes a thumb over your cheekbone once again. 

“Alright then.” He nods, firm and resolute, and then looks around the room. “ We’re not doing it here, though. If you're getting the full Joel Miller experience, we're gonna do it right.” 

Your eyes roll reflexively, but your heart picks up its pace regardless.

"I’m not gonna do anything if you call it that ever again."

"Fine, fine,” he relents. “Let me show you what a good, thorough fucking feels like. Better?"

Your jaw drops, and he's laughing at you, his body shaking with amusement.

"Fuck you" you grumble, shoving him away while trying to hide your coy smile. 

"Yeah, that's what I'm hoping for," he says with a wide, self-assured grin.

"I'm leaving" you declare with a false sense of offense as you rise to your feet. Joel is quick to do the same and before you can take a single step away, he slips a finger through the belt loop of your jeans and tugs you back into him, wrapping an arm around your waist.

"I’ll stop, I’ll stop. I'm sorry" he says, not sounding it one bit.

You huff, but let him pull you closer until you’re pressed against his chest and you have to tilt your head back to look at him.

"I’ll be good. I promise."

"Liar"

"Well, yeah. But I can promise that I'll make you feel good."

You can't help the giggle that spills out and he kisses it away, his lips warm and plush and sweet against yours. The hand not resting on your lower back comes up, curling around the nape of your neck and keeping you close. You sink into him, and the fog creeps in again, dulling the rest of the world, making it seem fuzzy and distant, like the memory of a dream. All you can focus on is him, the warm solid weight of him against you, the strong arms holding you, the way his mouth moves against yours. And then he’s pulling back all too soon and you have to stifle a whine.

"Come on" he says, tugging at your hand.

His bedroom is dim, the little lamp on his nightstand and the faint glow of the moon through the curtains providing the only light. You swallow and take a deep breath as you step inside, your bare toes digging into the plush carpet, his hand warm and large where it grips yours.

He holds onto you as he sits on the edge of the bed. You step forward, letting him pull you between his knees. His hands settle on your hips, and you can feel their heat through the fabric of your shirt.

He doesn’t ask if you're sure again and you’re grateful because you’re not sure if you could form any kind of response right now. Instead, he slides his hands up and under your shirt, fingers dancing across your skin and leaving a trail of goosebumps. Your breath hitches as his hands smooth over your ribs and around to your back, the tips of his fingers mapping out the curve of your spine, skimming over each notch and bump. They climb higher, the fabric of your shirt bunching around his wrists. 

“Can I take this off, baby?”

Your heart jumps to your throat but you nod anyway. He grabs the hem and tugs your shirt up and and you lift your arms so he can slip it off over your head. He tosses it aside, the fabric falling to the floor beside the bed. You’re left exposed, vulnerable and bare, save for the worn out bra you wear, a few too many washes and a few years past its prime.

Your hands itch where they hang by your side with the instinct to cover yourself, hide the imperfections that you know so well, the stretch marks, the softness of your stomach, the way the cups of your bra are just a bit too small and spill over the tops.

But then he’s pressing his lips to the space just above your navel, his scruff tickling your skin and making the muscles in your abdomen jump and twitch. His hands find your waist again, and when his lips continue their path upwards, his palms follow, skimming up your sides, thumbs tracing the outline of your ribs before stopping at the band of your bra.

"This too?" he asks, voice quiet and husky.

"Yeah" you answer with a squeak, and he grins like a kid in a candy store.

His fingers undo the clasp deftness that makes your knees go weak, the straps slipping from your shoulders and the whole thing sliding down your arms, landing somewhere near your shirt. 

"God, baby, look at you" he murmurs, his hands cupping the underside of your breasts, his thumbs sweeping over the tops and then down the slope and around your nipple. Your breath hitches, the gentle touch sending a shiver up your spine. "You're fucking perfect."

The praise is unexpected and it sends a jolt of heat through your core. You whimper quietly and his hands are on you again, the calloused palms rough on the soft skin of your breasts. He kneads the flesh, squeezing gently before rolling your nipples between his fingers, pulling and pinching and teasing. 

He pulls you closer and ducks his head, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. He looks up at you through his lashes, eyes dark and hooded, and his pupils blown wide with desire.

"Can I?" he asks.

"Please."

He leans in and wraps his lips around a peaked nipple, his tongue swirling around the sensitive nub, the gentle heat of his mouth on your skin making your knees weak.

His mouth works on one breast, tongue flicking and teasing while his free hand continues its work on the other. Pleasure builds and coils deep inside, the sensation unfamiliar but certainly not unwelcome. You whimper and he pulls away, releasing your nipple with a wet pop before giving it a sweet parting kiss.

He turns his attention to the other, his teeth grazing over the stiff peak and drawing a whine from your lips. He sighs when your fingers tighten in his hair, pulling at the strands until he groans softly against you. He sucks your other nipple into his mouth, the flat of his tongue pressing against it and dragging up and around, swirling and flicking. You’re already breathless, panting, a thin sheen of sweat glistening on your forehead.

"Feels good, Joel," you whisper shyly. 

"I know, honey" he says, a soft smile pulling at his lips when he pulls away. "Feel good anywhere else?"

He doesn't wait for a response, simply slips a hand between your thighs, cupping you through the denim, the simple action making you squeak.

"Here, huh?" he says, the heel of his palm pressing against you.

You gasp softly and nod, biting your lip, too shy to say anything.

"Get on the bed, baby."

You comply, crawling onto the mattress and scooting backwards towards the pillows, sitting at the head of the bed as you watch him. His eyes never leave you as he pulls his shirt over his head, tossing it onto the floor. Your heart thumps as you stare at his bare chest, his tanned skin dotted with a light dusting of salt and pepper hair. He's broad, his shoulders thick and chest solid. Your fingers burn with the urge to reach out and touch him, so you do, extending a tentative, slightly shaky hand.

He watches you closely, eyes flitting down to the palm pressed against his chest before meeting yours again, his mouth curling into a smile.

"You can touch" he says, reaching down to curl a hand around your wrist and bringing it up to his lips, pressing a kiss to the center of your palm before guiding your hand back down to his chest. "I think most people would enjoy that."

"You're having entirely too much fun with this,” you mumble while your fingers spread out across his pec.  

"It is fun" he counters, his own hand sliding up the inside of your thigh, thumb pressing against the seam of your jeans and rubbing up and down. "But it'll be more fun once these come off"

Your lips part, a puff of air rushing out.

"You gonna take them off?" you ask, the words slipping out, bold and unbidden.

He grins, his brow quirking up.

"Look at you, being all bossy"

"You like it" you say, finally feeling some of the anxiety slipping away, the familiar and comfortable banter between the two of you slipping into place in a new, unfamiliar situation.

His smile takes up nearly his whole face as moves closer. 

“I sure do.” 

He looms over you, bracing himself on an elbow next to your head before ducking down to kiss you, his tongue easily slipping into your mouth, warm and insistent. You sigh into it, your hands finding the warm, bare skin of his back, muscles gliding beneath your palms as you slide them up and around, fingertips digging into his shoulders. He's so warm and solid and you can't help the little noise that slips out, a soft, needy moan. You're about to break the kiss and beg him to touch you, give you something, anything, but he pulls back before you can. 

"Impatient. I like that too" he says, voice barely above a whisper.

He kisses the corner of your mouth, then your cheek, then down your neck, his beard scraping against your skin. He continues his path, pressing wet, open-mouthed kisses across your collarbones and down the valley between your breasts, his beard tickling your sternum.

His palm presses into the top of your thigh, and you instinctively open your legs for him, his hand immediately moving to cup you through the denim, thick fingers pressing against the seam and the bundle of nerves just below. Your hips rock up, seeking more pressure and he grins, entirely too pleased with himself right now.

You huff, and he laughs, the sound rumbling in his chest, but he relents, undoing the button and zipper of your jeans and tugging the fabric down, revealing the pair of pink panties underneath. 

Joel sits up, pulling your jeans down your legs and letting them drop off the side of the bed, the sound of the denim hitting the floor indicating that you've officially crossed a line that neither of you can come back from. But if the hungry, desperate look on his face and the way you're practically vibrating underneath him are any indication, neither of you want to.

"I'll start with just my fingers, yeah?" he says, his hands running up the insides of your thighs, touch light and teasing, the tips of his fingers brushing the edge of your panties. You nod dumbly, at a complete loss for words right now.

He ducks his head, his lips landing on the smooth skin stretched over your hip bone. You squirm, ticklish, and he grins. His mouth is a great distraction from his hand, which has found its way back in between your legs, his fingers now pressing against damp fabric.

"Shit" he curses, his touch firm. "Fuckin' soaked already. Am I just that good?" he quips with a smirk.

"Jesus do you ever shut up" you gripe, but the effect is ruined by the whimper that escapes you when his thumb sweeps up, pressing hard against your clit. 

"Oh, that's a pretty sound" he murmurs, repeating the motion to pull out another one, your hips bucking against his hand.

"Now," he starts, his tone shifting to the same one he uses when he's about to impart some life lesson. "This guy you're gonna see, or any man for that matter, should always take care of you before himself. That's just common fuckin' sense. And if he doesn't, you send him on his way" he continues. "Because a man that don't wanna see a woman get off is no fuckin' man at all"

You're about to interrupt, tell him he's an idiot and ask him to please, please, get on with it, but his fingers sliding under the elastic of your panties, swiftly pulling them down your legs steals the breath from your lungs. Your pulse sky rockets and you shift underneath him, crossing your thighs in instinctual effort to hide yourself from him. 

"M'sorry I didn't shave or anything" you blurt out, your throat tight with anxiety and embarrassment once again 

Joel just shakes his head as he pries your legs apart.

"Baby, I could not give less of a shit about that."

"But-"

"No" he says, the word firm, an edge of command to his tone. "You’re not apologizin’ for that. And if a man gives a shit, he's a fuckin' child who doesn't deserve the honor of bein' between these thighs" he says, pushing your knees further apart.

You nod and bite your lip, the words that are just so very Joel, settling in your chest and easing the tension in your body. You let out a long, slow breath and relax, trying to ease the nervousness.

"There ya go" he says, his fingers dancing along your slit, gathering the slick pooling there. You shudder at the gentle touch, your hips rolling up just a bit before you force them back down into the mattress, trying to keep yourself still.

"Nuh-uh. None of that" he says, immediately noticing the movement. He slides his free hand under you, his palm pushing into the small of your back and encouraging you to move again, to lean into your pleasure. "You take what you want, baby. Show me how good it feels. That's all I wanna see."

You squirm and whimper, the simple, almost lazy touch driving you insane. You've touched yourself before, brought yourself over the edge while imagining what it would be like to have the things you read about and watch in videos happen to you. But you've never managed to make yourself feel this good, never felt pleasure so intense, never felt a burning pressure in your abdomen so demanding that it radiates all the way to the tips of your fingers and toes.

And he's barely touched you.

"How's that feel?"

You can't even form the words, so you just nod and hum, the sound a mix of a whimper and a moan, your hips rolling up against his palm. He chuckles, and then the pressure increases, the friction building, his fingers slipping down, collecting more of your wetness to ease the drag against your skin.

He moves his fingers down, down, down, the tip of one circling your entrance, gathering the wetness pooling there. You whine loudly, any shame and modesty you once had replaced entirely with desperate need and pure desire.

"Please, Joel" you whisper, voice shaky.

"I gotcha" he says, dipping his fingertip in, just barely, and pulling a moan from deep in your chest. "Gonna give you what you need"

You groan, a long, low sound as he slowly sinks his finger into you. It's nothing like your own, so perfectly thick and long/ And you found the spot before, the spot that he curls his finger up into, but never at this angle, never with the perfect amount of pressure that he's applying right now. 

"Mmm, look at that" he coos as you clench tightly around his finger.

"Joel, god, feels so good" you whimper pathetically. 

"I know, honey, I know."

You clench again, the cockiness and self-assured attitude that usually gets under your skin now ignites your whole body in an entirely different way. He keeps his eyes on your face, watching as your eyes squeeze shut and your mouth drops open, your head tipping back as the pleasure builds.

"Another" you beg, the fullness not nearly enough.

"Greedy girl" he chides, but he pulls his finger out, and slides two back in. You swear that you could come from this alone, but he doesn't let you, the hand that was supporting your lower back disappearing, only to reappear between your thighs, his thumb circling your clit with firm, steady strokes.

White hot pleasure wraps around the base of your spine, the dual sensations of his fingers and his thumb sending you spiraling. The sounds falling from your lips are unrecognizable, high and desperate as your mind goes blissfully blank, your entire focus on the heat coiling in your abdomen. Your eyebrows pinch together and you bury your face in the pillow next to your head, trying to hide the ridiculous expression you're surely making, but you inhale the traces of his shampoo and cologne that cling to the fabric, the scent pushing you even closer to the edge. 

You try to hold back. Surely you're not supposed to come this quickly, not just from two fingers and a thumb. Surely that's a sign that you're an easy lay, or too inexperienced, or-

"Just let it happen, baby. I can feel it, Just let go" Joel says, his voice cutting through the thoughts racing through your mind, his fingers crooking inside you and dragging across the spot that makes your hips stutter and a cry fall from your lips.

You can't hold back any longer, the pleasure cresting and crashing down around you. You squeeze his fingers, your back arching, the heels of your feet digging into the mattress as you roll your hips up into his touch, seeking more and more and more. And he gives and gives and gives, working you through it and drawing it out for as long as he can before you melt into the mattress, bones and muscles liquid and warm and satisfied.

He pulls his fingers out, and the sudden emptiness draws a disappointed whine from you, his answering chuckle making you smile.

"That was- fuck" you sigh, not quite capable of coherent thought.

"Absolutely mind-blowing? Yeah I know" he teases. You roll your eyes but don't say anything because it's true, and his cocky grin fades into a soft smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he watches you return to Earth. 

"Can I- can I return the favor?" you ask, your gaze flicking down to the noticeable bulge in his jeans.

He grunts and shakes his head.

"Not yet. Got somethin' else in mind."

You frown and push yourself up onto your elbows, watching as he shifts from his position. You're about to ask what he's going to do until he's settling himself on his stomach between your thighs. You suck in a sharp breath as you realize exactly what he's got planned and your heart jumps, anxiety clouding your mind once again. 

He rests his cheek on your thigh, his eyes meeting yours.

"Alright?"

You swallow and nod, licking your lips.

"Yeah. Just... no one's ever-"

"Yeah, I got that much, that's why we're here" he says, smiling smugly when you glare at him. 

"But what if it's not good? Or I don't taste good? Or-"

"Stop" he says, the single word halting your runaway train of thought. "You need lessons in relaxing, not sex. You're so fucking tense all the time"

"Sorry" you say, immediately cringing.

He sighs, his breath ghosting over the skin of your inner thigh, making you shiver. "What did I say about apologizin'?" he says, his tone slightly sharp.

"I know. Sorry- shit, sorry! Fuck!"

He barks out a laugh and you huff, bringing up both hands to scrub over your face.

"See what I mean?"

"Yes, yes, you're very smart and know everything"

He hums and nips at your thigh.

"Damn right I do."

You want to snark back, but his mouth is moving, his lips trailing down the inside of your thigh and towards where you're aching for him, slick and wet and throbbing. He takes his time, laying kisses on your thighs, hips, and stomach, his scruff scraping the sensitive skin, huffing out a laugh when you start to squirm, your patience wearing thin.

His hands smooth over the soft flesh of your inner thighs, urging you to spread them wider before spreading you open with his thumbs, exposing you completely. You feel exposed, vulnerable, and the urge to close your legs and hide yourself from his gaze is overwhelming, the embarrassment making your skin burn. But before you can even think about closing them, his tongue is on you, sliding up the length of you and circling your clit. The moan that escapes you is embarrassingly loud and high pitched, but the mortification is easily swallowed up by the pleasure.

He hums against you, the sound and the feeling sending a shudder through your body. Your hands grip the pillow behind your head and you try not to buck up into his mouth, but your attempts are futile. He doesn't seem to mind though, in fact you think it spurs him on, his tongue flattening against you and lapping at you messily, the wetness he's coaxed from you smearing across his mouth and chin.

The sound is lewd and obscene, the sloppy, slick noises and the soft grunts and groans that rumble in his chest as he works you up. He pulls back, his breath coming out in pants, his chest heaving as he looks up at you, his eyes dark and hooded.

"Don't know what you were worried about" he says, his voice low and raspy. "You taste fuckin' divine"

His beard is shiny and damp, his lips glistening, hair messy from where your fingers were tangled in it. The sight of him looking so completely disheveled and filthy has you clenching around nothing, the ache almost too much to bear.

He doesn't say anything else, just ducks his head and gets back to work, his mouth moving with a renewed urgency, his hands gripping your thighs and pushing them further apart, allowing him better access.

Your eyes roll back and your mouth falls open, a constant stream of moans and whines and babbling pleas and praises falling from your lips, but you're not really sure what you're saying, not really sure of anything except the intoxicating pleasure coursing through your veins.

You hear him moan, can feel the vibration against your skin, and you glance down at him, and that's a mistake. The sight of him, his eyes closed and brows drawn together in concentration, his cheeks hollowed out as he sucks and nips and laps at you and– is he fucking grinding his hips into the mattress?

You're fucked.

A throaty moan tumbles past your lips as your hips start to rock, a rhythm forming as you chase your orgasm. His hands leave your thighs and he slides one arm up, the weight of it resting against your abdomen to keep you still while his other hand snakes down, fingers dipping inside again, finding the spot that makes you see stars.

"Fuck, Joel, please, oh my god, I'm so- please"

He groans in response, the hand on your stomach pressing down harder to meet the two fingers curling and stroking inside of you. You cry out at the increased pressure right as he wraps his lips around your clit, sucking and swirling his tongue around the bud, his fingers moving faster and faster. Flames lick up your spine and spread throughout your body, threatening to burn you alive. 

Your orgasm hits you like a freight train, knocking the wind out of you and turning your limbs to jello. Wave after wave of blinding euphoria crashes over you and all you can do is cling to the pillow and arch your back, your toes curling as he continues to work his fingers and tongue, happily letting you ride his face and grind into his mouth.

He doesn't let up, not until you're a whimpering, trembling mess, physically pushing his head away when it becomes too much. He pulls back reluctantly, a wicked grin plastered to his face, his chin and mouth absolutely soaked. You're panting, struggling to catch your breath as the aftershocks make you shiver despite the content warmth spreading throughout your entire body.You feel sated and sleepy, a bone deep satisfaction making you feel boneless. 

But as you come down from your high, rational thoughts start to filter in and you suddenly remember the reason this all started in the first place.

You're here to learn, he should be teaching you how to please a man.

How to please him. 

You watch as he gets off the bed and wipes his chin with the back of his hand. Your eyes shamelessly rake over him, the dusty pink flush that decorates his neck and chest, the curve of his belly down to the impressive bulge in his jeans. 

You push yourself up, ignoring the way your arms tremble with the effort. He looks at you, his eyes scanning your face no doubt looking for signs of distress.

"You ok?" he asks, eyebrows pinched together in his typical concerned Joel fashion.

"Yeah" you say, a little breathlessly. "But I still want to..."

Your voice trails off and you glance down at his crotch, hoping he gets the message.

"That's alright, baby. It's a lot, we don't-"

"No" you interrupt, a hint of desperation in your voice. "You said you would teach me. Please, Joel. I-I wanna learn" You hope it's a good enough cover to the fact that you really just want him, your original goal forgotten. "I just don't want to embarrass myself" you add, pouting slightly for good measure, praying to god that he can’t detect the underlying want for him and him only.

He watches you for a moment, seemingly contemplating his decision. And then his eyes narrow, because of course he knows. There's never been an instance where you succeeded in lying to this man. He always, always knows when something is off.

"Alright" he says, a slow smile spreading across his face, something mischievous sparkling in his eyes. "Dick sucking class is now in session"

You groan, your face twisting with visible disgust.

"Oh my god, that was terrible."

"What? It's true" he says with a shrug.

"That is- no, no way. Never say those words ever again. Ever." you say, pointing a finger at him accusingly.

"Or what?" he challenges, taking a step towards the bed.

You gulp and lick your lips.

"Or..."

He waits expectantly for a response. You have none, so you just shake your head and look away.

"Yeah, that's what I thought"

You glare at him and then sigh.

"You're a bully"

"Am I?” He asks, taking a step back to give you more room. “ 'Cause you're the one that asked me to teach ya. On your knees, kid. Let's see whatcha got."

You chew on the inside of your cheek, trying to suppress a grin. You don't know how he does it, but his ability to make a joke or a quip out of anything always has a smile tugging at the corner of your lips, even when the jokes are awful and the puns are terrible. Even when the joke is about you getting ready to suck his dick. 

"You're a bully and a pervert" you say, sliding off the bed and sliding to your knees, the plush carpet doing a decent job at protecting your joints.

"And proud of it.”

"Pride is a sin."

"So is premarital sex, so I'll see you in hell, honey"

You snort and look up at him from your place on the floor, grinning widely.

"You're ridiculous"

"You love it"

And that's the thing, isn't it?

Because you do. You love his innate ability to make you laugh, to make you smile even when he's about to take your fucking virginity. He knows how to comfort you, how to put you at ease, when to push you with his teasing and when to pull back and let you take control. You've never met a person who has so effortlessly made their way into your heart.

And here you are, on your knees for him under the false pretense of practicing for a man who's name you can't even remember right now.

You shake your head, the motion clearing the thoughts and the emotions that were swirling in your head, the ones that make you want to stand up and kiss him, kiss him until your lips are numb and you're left gasping for air.

"Joel?" you say his name softly.

"Yeah, baby?"

"Teach me."

Part 2 is already in the works I promise hehehe thank you for reading I hope u all enjoy!!

[strawhbrrries]

Starin' Problem.

pairing: dbf!no outbreak!joel miller x afab!reader

summary: a red dress and a glass of whiskey is all it took for Joel to lose every ounce of self control he once had.

warnings: porn no plot, female pronouns, age gap (both consenting adults), unprotected p in v, fingering, creampie, slight creep joel, daddy kink, breeding kink...,mean joel, dirty talk, praise!!!, no use of y/n or descriptions of reader, not proofread

word count: 1.3k words

recommended listening: granite by sleep token

authors note: i'm pretty sure I had planned for this to take place at reader's parent's wedding but i never specified so it's just some fancy event they planned lmfao, enjoy &lt;333

“Quit starin’.” Your father whispered into Joel’s ear, following his eyes to you, his daughter, across the room. “Let's not have a problem tonight.”

“I ain’t.” Joel grunted, taking a sip of the whiskey in his hand as he continued to watch you. “We won’t have any problems.”  

He’d spent most of the night trying to decide if you’d worn any underwear under the dress, with a slit that ended right under your hip he was convinced you weren’t but then you’d turn a specific way and he swore he could make out a line. The low neckline left nothing to the imagination and only added to the torture you were putting Joel through at the hands of fashion, he never knew he could be so turned on by someone your age but here he was with a rock hard cock, staring like a creep.

“Whoever that guy with your dad is has been staring at you all night.” One of the girls you’d been standing with spoke, a hint of jealousy in her voice. 

You turned your head around, making eye contact with Joel, and looking him up and down. You couldn’t deny the attraction you had for him, and the dark red suit your father had picked out to match the same red of the dresses your mom had picked out wasn’t helping at all. He looked you up and down before making eye contact with you again, taking another sip of his whiskey, and twirling a finger around. 

“Joel? He’s probably on a secret mission to keep an eye on me.” You joked, acting like you had stepped on your dress as an excuse to spin around without anyone suspecting anything. 

“He can keep an eye on me.” A different girl responded, giggling as they continued to joke about him.

He could’ve orgasmed right then and there as you spun around, the two of you hadn’t spoken all night and yet here you were entertaining him. His glass of whiskey was almost empty, if he played his cards right maybe he’d be able to get you alone, away from the annoying girls you’d been around all night. 

You watched him glance at his glass before heading off to what you assumed was the kitchen, he hadn’t made any signal for you to follow but this was your moment. 

“What would my dear father think if he knew his best friend was eyeing up his daughter?” You whispered, coming up behind Joel and dragging your nails down his back. 

“Does his dear daughter care?” Joel whispered back, setting his glass down and turning around to face you. “Seemed like you quite enjoyed it.”

He trailed a finger over the neckline of your dress, hooking it under the fabric and exposing one of your breasts. A low groan escaped his throat, accompanied by him fixing his suit pants. His fingers found your nipple, rolling and tugging it slightly. 

“Seems to me you’re enjoying it a whole bunch.” He chuckled, using his other hand to tilt your chin up, leaning down so your lips were inches apart.

“Fuck, Joel-” 

He smashed his lips against yours, swallowing every whimper escaping your lips, pulling the other side of your dress down to expose both breasts. Your hands made quick work of unbuttoning his suit jacket, pulling it off of him and throwing it on the floor, before moving to his dress shirt. 

“Naughty girl, lettin’ some old man touch you in a kitchen at your parent’s party.” He spoke against your lips, shoving your dress down to your hips and taking a step back to admire you. “God you’re fuckin’ pretty.” 

“Joel, please.” You whined, grabbing at the last few buttons left on his shirt desperately as if it was going to get them unbuttoned faster.

“I haven’t even touched you yet and you’re already beggin’. Fuckin’ whore.” He chuckled, helping you unbutton his shirt and tossing it to the side with his jacket. “Need some dick, huh?” 

You shook your head, shoving the rest of the dress over your hips and onto the floor, grabbing his head and smashing your lips back together. His fingers danced their way down your skin, memorizing every bump and curve in the chance that he wouldn’t get to do this again, making their way under your thighs and lifting you onto the counter behind him. 

He trailed a finger up and down your folds, gathering your wetness and bringing it to his mouth, groaning at the taste. The sensation of his finger slowly pushing in and out was so overwhelming, you were practically floating on cloud nine and there was nothing you’d change about it.

“Tell me how bad you want it.” Joel rasped, lips pressed up against your ear, removing the rest of his clothing. “Tell daddy how bad you need it.”

“Daddy, please…fuck- need it so bad.” Your words were barely audible, desperate and whiny.

The feeling of his cock pushing inside of you had you throwing your head back, hand slapped over your mouth to muffle any and all noise he’d pull out of you. He pulled back out slowly, watching your pussy grip his cock as he pushed back in. Forbidden sex had never felt so good, he’d find any and every reason to visit you after tonight if he could experience this again. His beard scratched against your neck as he bent over, pulling your body closer to him, sucking and biting at the skin he could reach. 

“God, I could make you a fuckin’ mom.” Joel groaned, leaning his head further into the crook of your neck. “Look so fuckin’ pretty, full of my babies.”

“Daddy-”

“That’s right, say my name, baby.” He switched the arm that was bearing your weight and brought the newly freed hand to your hair, tugging it back enough so he could see your face. 

His hips pistoned in and out, cock reaching places you didn’t even know it could, but if you told him that he’d make a joke about you not sleeping with a real man like him. He placed wet kisses down your neck and all the way down to your nipples, sucking on them in turns. 

“Joel, please, I’m so close..” You cried, eyes filled to the brim with tears that threatened to spill at any moment.

“That’s too damn bad, because that’s not my name.” He chuckled, evilly, wiping away the tears that had slid down your cheeks. “Try again, I know you can do it, baby.”

“Daddy, daddy please.” 

“Good girl.” 

He brought his thumb down to your clit, drawing figure eights in time with his thrusts, coaxing your orgasm right out of you. You slumped into him as it hit you, body shaking as it made its way through you. He continued to thrust into you, chasing his own white, hot high. Your small whimpers as you came back to the world was enough to send Joel over the edge, painting your insides a nice milky white. His own body slumping into yours as he recovered from the pleasure. 

“Did such a good job, darlin’.” He praised, smoothing your hair down as you continued your way out of cloud nine. “Did so good for me.”

You gave him a weak smile, smoothing the hairs that were stuck to his sweaty forehead back to their spot. He sat you back down on the counter and filled his glass up with water before handing it to you, the aftertaste of whiskey was enough to perk you right up. 

Joel helped you back into your dress, fixing your hair to cover the hickeys that were soon to appear, sliding your underwear back up but making sure to push his cum back inside of you before sliding them all the way up.

“C’mon, we got speeches to make.”

[joelscurls]

best kept secret

pairing: dbf!Joel Miller x f!reader

words: 6.7k

summary: In an attempt to keep your relationship secret, Joel agrees to a blind date set up by his best friend / your father. You don't take it well.

warnings: 18+ minors dni, pre-outbreak, age gap (reader is in her early 20s, Joel is 36), secret relationship, angst, explicit smut, oral (f!receiving), unprotected piv, semi-public sex, car sex, creampie, some fluff; lmk if I missed anything!

a/n: so sorry it took me almost a month to post something new ffs - life got busy and my inspiration simultaneously disappeared. but we're back, baby! anyway, dbf!joel owns my ass, so here's my rendition of him. as always, ty to my baby @javisashtray for reading this over for me and helping me through the creative process <3

Joel’s bedroom window offers a perfect view of the sunrise; of shy, pink light creeping over treetops and the roof of your dad’s house across the street.

It’s gorgeous — breathtaking, even — maybe because you can count on one hand the number of times you’ve actually seen the crest of morning. You’re far more privy to late nights and sleeping in as long as you can push it,  never been one to be up with the lark, so to speak.

You don’t mind the early wakeup call, though, not when it’s this: Joel’s head tucked between your thighs, his tongue rolling lazily over your clit, your eyes still adjusting to the light as he spreads you open for him.

He’s humming against you, his coarse beard tickling soft skin, thumbs dug into muscle to hold you in place as your back bows reflexively off the mattress. He looks so sweet like this, so eager to please, staring up at you with blown pupils.

“C’mon baby,” he purrs. “Just gimme one before you go.”

They’re the first words he’s said all morning, the first thought that’s necessitated utterance. His voice is hoarse and deep and drips honey-sweet at your core. 

Even so, despite how badly you want to — because you always want Joel’s mouth on you — you’re not sure you can. 

Because you need to get home before Denise next door leaves for her early shift. Before Susan a few houses down takes her dog out for a walk.

Before the neighborhood wakes and somebody sees you leaving Joel Miller’s house. Or worse, before your dad catches you slipping into the house in yesterday’s clothes, your car in the driveway still cold.

But with another experimental flick of Joel’s tongue, you forget all that, a content little sigh slipping past your parted lips, betraying you.

Just one, you tell yourself, and then you’ll head out.

“Fuck, okay — yeah,” you breathe, twisting your fingers into the roots of his curls.

With your permission, he buries his nose in your mound. Licks at you again — with more purpose, this time. One long, drawn out lap followed by another.  

He’s so gentle with you, so careful, caressing your folds with his tongue like they’re made of paper. It’s a dizzying juxtaposition to the way he laid you down last night and fucked you, teeth scraping your neck and cock bruising your cervix.

You’re still sore, your walls tender where he stretched them, but your pussy is drooling nonetheless, surely making a mess of the bedsheets underneath you.

Because you’re insatiable when it comes to Joel. 

For the past few weeks, since the first time you’d found yourself in his bed, you’ve craved him. Regardless of how sated he’s left you each and every time, you’ve needed more. 

It’s dangerous and stupid and undeniably wrong, having a fling with your dad’s best-friend. But you’re finding it difficult to consider the morality of it all when just his tongue makes you come harder than any other man’s cock ever has. 

That tongue, now dipping into your apex, drawing more slick out of you as his thumb finds your swollen clit — It’s overwhelming how good it feels, how good he is at this.

He’s bringing you to the edge languidly, savoring the taste of you, the feel of your silky flesh. It’s like he doesn’t want this to be over, needs to stretch the moment as far as it’ll go, milk every last second before you slip from his grasp.

But it’s going to end soon; it’s inevitable with the way he’s laving your pussy, the crushed velvet of his tongue gliding through your folds so wet and warm. Your orgasm is building, and you’re powerless to stave it off any longer.

“Joel,” you warn, his name a high-pitched whine. 

“Shh, I know babygirl; it’s okay.” 

Two of his fingers hook at your entrance and push in, pacifying you as his thumb continues working your clit. “I got you. Let go for me, sweetheart.”

The soothe of his voice floods your senses like nitrous; renders your body loose and your head foggy. You come apart with a string of shattered breaths, eyes rolled back and fingers twisted into the duvet.

Joel talks you through it: that’s it, pretty girl; so good for me; always so good for me, and though he sounds so far away, his words are the only thing keeping you tethered to reality.

The world comes back into view slowly. Air settles in your lungs. And you can’t help but laugh at how fucked-out you feel when you peer down at Joel, his gaze already locked on you, expectantly.

“Okay?” he asks, rubbing at your inner thigh.

“Yeah,” you exhale, corners of your lips pulling taut. “More than okay.”

He smiles back at you. Props himself up with hands planted either side of you on the mattress and hovers over your feeble form.

“Good,” he whispers, dipping his head down to kiss your forehead, your nose, your mouth. He licks into you, letting you taste yourself on him — a little sweet, a little bitter — and his lips are so soft that you nearly melt. “Did so good, angel.” 

You want nothing more than to spend all day in this bed with him. Return the favor a few times over. Learn what he looks like in the afternoon sun against the backdrop of navy blue sheets. What he tastes like after his coffee rather than before.

“I don’t want to leave,” you admit against his mouth and he frowns, taking one of your hands in his. He presses a kiss to each of your knuckles, one by one, his eyes never straying from yours.

“I don’t want you to either, darlin’. But you can come back tonight, yeah?”

Tonight. Hours away. A whole day between now and then. But it’ll have to do. 

“Tonight,” you repeat. Solidify it. 

You slink home just as the street lights dim.

The house is quiet when you enter, apart from the incessant ticking of the grandmother clock in the living room. It sets off a throbbing in your head, a dull pang right at the front of your skull that you massage with two fingers as you ascend the stairs.

You move cautiously up each step, wincing at every creak of old wood. It must take minutes to reach the second-floor landing, and then you’re tiptoeing past your father’s room, listening for signs of sleep behind the seal of his door. Sure enough, you catch it, a single, drawn-out snore, loud enough that you let your feet fall, shuffling the rest of the way to the bathroom across the hall.

You immediately crank the shower on, climbing in as soon as you see steam. Lathering your skin with citrus-scented body wash, the smell of sex washes off your body and down the drain.

The warm water soothes your sore muscles; bittersweet relief. You stand there until the stream grows icy, stepping out and toweling yourself off just as you hear the familiar blare of your dad’s alarm on the other side of the wall.

By the time you’ve dressed and made your way downstairs, he’s already in the kitchen, nursing a cup of coffee with his back to you. 

Sink empty, counters borderline sparkling, a coaster tucked under his warm mug — your father is a neat man. He does not take kindly to mess.

God forbid, anybody disrupt the sacred balance of his home; move something and forget to put it back, break something of his that should be kept intact.

“Hey.”

“Hey, kiddo,” he yawns. Turns to face you. “You were up early. Heard the shower going.”

“Couldn’t sleep,” you lie.

“Something on your mind?”

Heat blooms across your chest and up your neck. There’s no way he knows — you’ve been far too careful. Still, you’re on edge, and the question lodges itself between your ribs uncomfortably as you frantically search for an answer.

“Uh, n-no,” you stutter. “Just work stuff, I guess.”

He seems to buy it, reaching for the percolator and re-filling his mug with a sigh, “Just gotta give it time. You only just started. Plus, it’s your first job out of school. They don’t expect you to know it all right away.”

It’s good advice, if not misguided. You nod as if you’re absorbing it, taking it straight to heart. As if your mind isn’t preoccupied.

You grab a mug from the cabinet. Fill it with coffee and creamer. Perch yourself at the breakfast table and take a slow, steadying sip.

The caffeine has just about seeped into your bloodstream when-

-there’s a knock at the door.

Your dad shoots you a puzzled look, one which you immediately return. Who could that be, so early on a Wednesday morning?

And when he pushes open the door to reveal none other than Joel, you just about fall out of your chair. Your nails absentmindedly dig into the wood of the table in an attempt to brace yourself.

“Oh, buddy — hey! Come on in,” your dad says, patting him on the back as he steps over the threshold. “Wasn’t expecting you.”

You grasp the handle of your mug like a lifeline. For a fleeting moment, you worry the ceramic will shatter in your hands.

Joel is dressed — blue cotton t-shirt covering his broad back and the deep, red scratches you left there when you dug your nails into skin, your legs hiked over his hips and your face tucked into his chest.

The pair of boxers peeking over the waistband of his jeans are different from the ones you pulled off of him last night, the ones he shimmied back into before you slept cradled in his arms.

He’s a different Joel here, now — your father’s friend, your neighbor — not the man who breaks you down with his tongue or the one who calls you his good girl while you take his entire, throbbing length. 

No, this Joel, standing in your kitchen in the presence of your father, has never betrayed him. Hasn’t tasted his friend’s daughter or felt the tight embrace of her wet, warm cunt around his cock. This Joel is reliable, honest, not one to do harm.

You do not desire this Joel, cannot. You must look at him with apathetic eyes. Must keep the boat of your longing at bay. 

Easier said than done. It’s as if your desire for him is a feral beast, fed by his touch and left starving in its wake. You feel like you’ve just run a marathon, sweat beading at your collar as you not-so-subtly follow the subconscious flex of his hands, the bunching of fabric over his biceps.

His voice bounces off the backsplash, and your fingers tighten around the handle of your mug.

“Yeah, I uh — I went to make myself coffee and realized I was out. Was hopin’ you might have some to spare?”

He can’t be serious. He came over for coffee? He couldn’t get some on the road?

“I’m afraid she took the last of it,” your dad’s eyes point to you, and you ignore the burn of Joel’s gaze when his follow.

“Ahh,” he says. “‘ts okay. I’ll grab some on my way in.” 

His fingers taptaptap on the edge of the countertop, bottom lip tucked between his teeth like there’s something else. Another reason he came here.

And then you spot it — your wallet, dark red leather, poking out the top of Joel’s back pocket. 

You must’ve left it in his room before you hurried home. Somewhere amongst the mess of trinkets and trash on his dresser. You half-remember dropping it there last night as he’d kneeled in front of you and peppered kisses up the length of your leg.

Thankfully, your dad is oblivious as ever, giving Joel the perfect opportunity to inconspicuously slip you your wallet when he turns around and crosses the kitchen, placing his empty mug in the sink. 

Joel sidesteps once, twice, extending his arm and snapping it back as soon as you have the wallet in your grasp.

Your father clears his throat. Spins to find Joel exactly where he was. “I’ve been thinking,” he starts, wrestling a slice of bread out of the bag and dropping it into the toaster, “I gotta set you up with this co-worker of mine, Deb.”

Joel freezes. You watch as the color drains from his face and his large hand anxiously cards through dark curls. You’re pretty sure you freeze too, breath caught somewhere in your throat until your dad turns to you and you remember to exhale. 

“You know Deb, right, honey?” he asks. You mentally flick through the rolodex of your dad’s coworkers. 

There’s Leanne, tall redhead, hosted a potluck a few months back at which you tasted the worst mac & cheese you’ve ever had. And Barbara from accounting, who he got into a heated argument with over who makes the best BBQ in the city. You only remember her name because he hadn’t shut up about how wrong her opinion was for a full week. 

This woman actually thinks the Smoke Shop has got better ribs than Lou’s. I said to her, Barbara, your taste buds must be absolutely torched.

But Deb? You don’t recall a Deb. Still, you’re pretty sure you hate her, just in hearing her name in this context. 

You shake your head, no. 

“Well, I guess you haven’t seen her in a while. She was there that day I brought you into the office.”

“When I was ten?” you retort. 

“Yeah, I guess it was that long ago, huh?”

You shrug. He returns his attention to Joel. “Anyway, Deb – she’s around your age, just got divorced about a year back, and she’s a real nice woman. I think you two would really hit it off.”

“Is that so?” Joel replies. You swear his voice wavers. If your dad notices, he doesn’t say anything.

“You’ll like her Joel, I promise. I mean, when’s the last time you went out with a nice lady? Not since – what was her name — Jean? And if things were going well with her, I’d hope you’d tell your old friend.” The toaster pops, and he retrieves his slice of toast. Grabs a butter knife from the utensil drawer.  

“No, I ain’t seeing Jean,” Joel sighs. Flashes you an apologetic glance as your dad slathers his toast in artificial purple jam, blissfully unaware.

“Well, you gotta get back out there!” 

Joel’s gaze rolls to the ceiling. “I don’t know – I’m just not real interested in datin’ right now.”

You exhale, then — a quiet declaration of relief that seems to go unnoticed — unperturbed even when your dad continues his pitch. 

I’ve known this woman for years Joel, I’m telling you, the two of you’d be the perfect match; she’s a looker too, real pretty.

Ew. Tuning him out, you check the clock, find that you only have a few minutes before you need to get going. You stand from the table and make your way toward the sink with your now-empty coffee mug in hand.

Would I ever lead you astray? your dad is asking just as you brush past Joel. His hand, idle by his side, catches the fabric of your blouse and you have to fight to ignore the pinprick of electricity it ignites under your skin.

“No, I know,” Joel grumbles. “I trust your judgment ‘n all, ‘ts just-”

“Will you just give her a chance?”

“Jesus; fine.”

The mug slips from your grip, falls into the sink with a clang.

Your dad glares at you, expression softening only when you gesture to the still-intact ceramic lying on its side in the basin.

He’s quickly distracted, then, jotting a series of numbers down onto a scrap of notebook paper, the blue ink pressed in so hard that it’s beginning to bleed through. 

“Atta boy,” he drawls, sliding it across the counter. Joel pinches it between two fingers, folds the paper without looking at it and stuffs it into his front pocket. 

“Promise you’ll give her a call tonight? I may or may not have already talked you up, and I need to know you’re not gonna make me look bad here.”

Joel has to see you staring at him out of the corner of his eye. He must. If looks could kill, he’d be six feet under already. But he’s refusing to meet your gaze, eyes glued to the cabinet directly in front of him as he nods. “Yeah, I’ll call her tonight,” he says, a small, unconvincing smile pulling at the corner of his lips. 

He’s actually agreeing to this?

You need to get out of here before you say something rash.

The anger bubbles in you slowly, then all at once, threatening to boil over as you slip on your shoes and sling your bag over your shoulder. 

Marching toward the door, you offer a half-hearted bye, not bothering to look back before you leave.

The office is already milling with people by the time you stroll in, ten minutes late. 

The conversation between Joel and your dad is still running laps in your head as you sneak past your boss’s door.

It sticks there through the morning and well into the afternoon, your dad’s words an incessant earworm: I think you two would really hit it off.

The thing is — you can’t blame Joel for saying yes to the setup. Not really. Your situation is complicated, messy, bound to end badly.

Maybe he’d be happier with Deb. 

They could take walks together, stroll through the grocery store or down the street  hand-in-hand. Throw dinner parties and shamelessly gush about their relationship to their friends. All without fear of being caught doing something wrong.

Because that’s what this is, you and Joel — it’s wrong. Not like you weren’t already well aware of that. Leave it to some woman you’ve never met to rub it in.

The day passes infuriatingly slow.

The pile of emails in your inbox only grows larger by the time you’re due to clock out, stack of reports on your desk barely touched. You wince when your boss stops by your cubicle on her way out, eager for an update.

“Sorry, Linda; a couple of these were more time-consuming than I’d hoped,” you lie. But you can tell she doesn’t buy it, not one bit, her expression souring as you shuffle through papers.

“I need these done by the end of the week, no matter what.”

“Of course,” you mutter, face heating with embarrassment. “I’ll get them done and on your desk by Friday.”

“Thanks.” Her heels are already clacking on tile when you open your mouth to apologize again, your sorry lost to the ether.

You gather your things and scramble to your feet as soon as she’s out of view, not sticking around to watch your computer power down. By the time you get to your car, Joel’s number is already dialed on your phone.

He picks up after two rings.

“Darlin’ — are you okay?”

It’s admittedly uncharacteristic for you to call him so early. You usually wait until after dark, when you’ve both retreated to your respective bedrooms, away from listening ears.

But this can’t wait. It’s been eating at you all day, digging into your work. If you don’t talk to him about it, you’re going to end up unemployed. You don’t bother to ask if he’s still on the job site, around other people. “You’re going on this date.” It’s not a question. More of an accusation.

“Baby,” he sighs. You try your best to ignore his molasses drawl and the way it seeps into your chest. 

“Why didn’t you say no?” 

“How could I?” he groans. “There’s your dad, askin’ me if I’m seein’ someone, sayin’ he’s already told this lady about me – what am I supposed to say?”

“I don’t know.” Your voice comes out a whine. “Make something up. Tell him you’ve taken a vow of celibacy.”

He laughs, low and breathy on the other end. “Yeah, baby. Think he’d believe that one, f’sure.”

“Fuck,” you huff. “I just— I don’t-“

You want to tell him not to go. To cancel. Fake his own death. Do whatever it takes to get out of this. But you have no right, not really. The two of you aren’t dating. You don’t have any control over what he does or who he sees. And you don’t want that, no. You just want him to choose you.

“I don’t wanna go, darlin’. I really don’t. But if I do this, I think it’ll get him off my back for a while. He won’t have a reason to suspect that I’m foolin’ around with his daughter.”

Fooling around. His phrasing is a metaphorical punch in the gut.

It’s not exactly a lie. You haven’t put a label on this thing, whatever it is. It’s been purely physical: lips slotted to lips, tongues pressed together, swapped sweat and saliva. But hearing it reduced to two words, words with such a casual connotation — as if you haven’t been driven by overwhelming desire — makes your stomach churn.

Joel doesn’t seem to clock it when you go quiet, a cocktail of rage and sorrow sloshing around your insides. “It’s for the best,” he adds, a shot of hard, burning liquor. 

“Yeah,” you say defeatedly. Choke back the pathetic tears that creep up your throat. “For the best.”

He ends the call with the excuse of bad cell reception. Promises to talk to you later. You’re not sure that you believe him.

The phrase fooling around curls up in your head, a wet dog, its fur dripping into the crevices of your rattled brain the entire drive home.

You dodge Joel’s calls for the remainder of the week.

There’s no use in talking to him when you have nothing to say, when you know any words you attempt will be overtaken by tears.

Even so, it doesn’t stop him from trying. His number lights up the screen of your phone at least twice a day.

He leaves voicemails that you do not listen to. You can’t. The last thing you need is his syruppy drawl in your ear. You’ll break; you know you will.

So instead, you delete them. Rid yourself of temptation.

But you still ache for him — a devastating truth. You lumber through the days, bones heavy with hurt. Find yourself kept up at night by thoughts of Joel and the infuriatingly soothing timbre of his voice, the intoxicating callous of his fingertips against your soft skin. 

It’s a lonely thing, yearning for Joel Miller.

On Friday, your father beams at the dinner table. He’s grinning like a child as he stuffs a forkful of rice into his mouth.

“Joel and Deb’s date is tomorrow,” he says. “Think they’ll really hit it off, don’t you?”

You’re dumbfounded for a long moment — can’t believe that this is your life now: being asked about your thoughts on Joel and the ever-elusive Deb as a couple. When it takes too long for you to answer, your father’s fork stills pointedly on his plate, and you sputter.

“Oh! I mean, I don’t know. Like I said, I don’t remember Deb.” You can’t help your condescending tone. Your dad doesn’t seem to catch it anyway. 

“Well,” he says, “I think they’ll be a match. Hoping so, anyway. The man has been such a hermit lately — maybe if he has a lady, he’ll get out more!”

“You sound real excited,” you grumble. Stab four peas on the prongs of your fork.

“It is exciting. I’ve never set anyone up before. And the best part is, the place they’re going to — the Tavern — it’s got rooms you can rent out for wedding receptions. Just imagine if down the line, they got mar-“

“Dad,” you stop him. You think you’ll be physically sick if you let him finish that sentence. “Sorry, I just — I’m really tired, all of a sudden. I think I’m going to head to bed early.”

It’s not a complete lie. You’re emotionally exhausted as a result of the past couple days. Sleep sounds like a much-needed, blissful escape right now.

Your dad doesn’t question you. He just nods. Swipes your plate from in front of you and brings it to the sink along with his.

Of course, you find it impossible to actually drift off that night. Tossing and turning, you battle the glaring urge to get up, slink into the home-office and look up directions to the Tavern. 

Not that you’re planning to go there anytime soon — you’re just curious. That’s all. 

Around midnight, you give up, pad down the hallway and into the room parallel yours. The computer dials up slowly, and you chew your bottom lip as you wait. 

You snatch a piece of paper from the printer and a pen from the #1 Dad mug that sits next to the monitor. Click on the internet icon and type the words into the search bar.

This is definitely a bad idea. Maybe the worst you’ve had in a while.

You jot the address down anyway.

Downtown Austin is buzzing with life. 

Patrons spilling out of bars, tourists striding down the street in their brand new Stetsons – it almost distracts you from the task at hand. 

At just past seven, you’d told your dad you were going out, meeting a friend for drinks. He’d been a bit taken aback, seeing as you’re not very social these days, but he’d seemed happy. Relieved. 

That’s not what you’re doing, of course.

No – in reality, you’re turning into the parking lot attached to the Tavern. It’s packed to the brim with cars, but you still manage to find Joel’s truck, its license plate number burned into the back of your mind after countless mornings of absently reading it as you snuck past.

It’s idle and empty when you inch by, and even though you knew he’d be here, on this date, your heart still sinks. Because maybe a tiny part of you had hoped he’d stand Deb up. 

You should leave. It was stupid to come here in the first place. What are you going to do — storm inside and demand that he leave with you?

You consider it for half a second, groaning when you realize how pitiful you are. Defeated, you swing your car into a spot at the back, facing the building, and shift it into park. You hug the steering wheel dejectedly.

From here, you have a straight-shot view of the restaurant’s entrance, a set of double doors at the side of the building. Groups spill out every so often, every pair that emerges causing your back to arch reflexively.

Joel and Deb are probably discussing their interests right now, bonding over a shared connection with your dad. You can vividly picture the smile likely plastered across his face — the same one you’ve elicited with sweet filth whispered in his ear.

And you’re here, sitting in your running car, watching the door. Your pulse thumps obnoxiously loud in your ears.

Minutes pass like molasses, slow and thick. You watch the clock on the car radio obsessively, betting with yourself on what time they’ll leave. After thirty minutes of nothing, you’re convinced that they’re going to close the place out.

But then the door opens again, and you straighten up, immediately met with the sight of Joel and Deb. 

She’s talking animatedly, eyes widening every few words, blonde hair wafting around her narrow face. It’s undeniable that she’s stunning, even from far away; possesses the kind of beauty you see on magazine covers in line at the grocery store. The jealousy that pools in your gut burns like acetone in an open wound.

She takes his arm as they walk toward the parking lot, and he lets her, despite the rest of his body appearing strangely rigid.

You wonder if he’ll take her home. Lead her to his truck, help her up the step to the passenger seat and sneak a look at her ass under her dress before shutting the door. If they’ll leave her car in the lot for the night, come back to retrieve it in the morning once he’s helped her forget about her loser ex-husband; let the scent of her perfume seep into the bed sheets to cover up yours.

But he doesn’t lead her to his truck. You watch as they unexpectedly turn down a row of cars, disappearing from your view completely, his arm still locked with hers. 

He could still kiss her. Press her against the car. Promise her that he’ll call — and he will, first thing tomorrow. He’s probably just being a real gentleman. Treating her like a woman he might want to marry someday. 

Maybe he knows, after just one date, that she’s his soulmate. He’ll buy the ring in a couple weeks. They’ll be engaged in a month’s time, and he’ll say he just couldn’t wait any longer. 

She’s the one thing I’ve been missing.

You stew in the agonizing unknown for what feels like hours before Joel materializes once again, backside illuminated by headlights as he strides toward his truck.

And then — he stops. You see the exact moment he notices your car in the parking lot, his eyebrows threading together and his hands splaying over his hips.

He’s staring directly through the windshield. At you.

Fuck.

He takes a few slow steps. Stops in front of the hood. Narrows his eyes and flexes his jaw.

With a deep breath, you unlock the doors. Gesture for him to get in the passenger side. 

He immediately rounds the car, prying the door open and climbing inside just as a SUV pulls out the row he and Deb had walked down. 

The door slams when he yanks it closed. The sound echoes through the cab of the car.

“You wanna fuckin’ explain what you’re doin’ here?” he snaps. You’re afraid to look him in the eye, embarrassment and now, anger, spooling hot behind your ears.

You know you’re in the wrong. You shouldn’t have followed him. But does he have to be so hostile?

When your gaze finally meets his, he looks — distraught — jaw clenched and lips set in a straight line. His fingers absently dig into denim-covered thighs.

“I don’t know,” you mumble, “I just wanted to see how you were with her.” And it’s the truth; not one you want to be admitting right now, to him, but it’s the truth nonetheless.

“Doesn’t give you the right to spy on me.”

“So what was I supposed to do? Sit at home and mope while the guy I was seeing is on a date with someone else? Oh no, I’m sorry,” you throw your hands up, form air quotes with your fingers, “the guy I was fooling around with.”

This seems to strike a nerve. His jaw twitches, and his fingers still on his lap.

“It wasn’t like that,” he grits

“No? Isn’t that all this was to you: fooling around?”

There’s a beat. Joel sighs. 

“No — fuck, no. Of course not.”

His expression softens. A crack in solid stone. “I tried callin’ you,” he says, voice barely above a whisper.

“I know,” you admit.

He nods. Another beat.

“Did you kiss her?” you ask.

“No.” He says it with intent, with promise, eyes firmly locked on yours now. 

Your mouth goes dry.

“No?”

“No,” he repeats. “I didn’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because I didn’t want to.”

“You don’t want her?” 

“No,” he says flatly, his pupils bulging in the lamplight, black bleeding into the brown of his irises. “I don’t want her.” 

“Why not?” 

He leans forward. His weight presses into the center console and his breath fans your face — warm, tinged with the scent of cheap beer.

“I don’t want her,” he says, voice an octave lower, “because I want you. I thought you knew that?” 

The radio drones between the two of you, some classic rock song you think you recognize flitting through the speaker. Your pulse beats staccato in your throat, off tempo.

“You want me?” you ask, a little breathless, and the next words you say are beyond dumb, beyond reckless, but you say them anyway. “Prove it.”

Joel doesn’t hesitate. He closes the slight distance between you and kisses you, hard, his tongue frantically sliding against yours through parted lips.

It’s sloppy, and desperate, and you feel drunk on the taste of him, on longing laced with carnal need. He’s groaning into your mouth, grabbing your head with both hands, burying his fingers in your hair — as if he can’t get close enough, as if he’ll only be satisfied once he’s swallowed you whole. You’re pretty sure you want him to.

Your hands move frantically to his t-shirt, then, bunch into the fabric and pull. You need to feel the skin underneath, need to rove your hands along his bare chest. He accommodates, tugging the shirt by the back of the collar, lips separating from yours ever-so-briefly to bring it over his head and toss it onto the backseat. 

And then he’s back on you, licking into your mouth again, eliciting a whimper from you when his hand wraps around the side of your throat, just under your jaw. 

Your palms splay across his torso, wander over warm, golden skin. You’ve missed this, god, you’ve missed this — but it’s still not enough. You need to feel more of him. In your mouth, in your hand, in your cunt — you’re not picky. Just need him in whatever way he’ll provide.

“Joel,” you whimper into his mouth, fingers winding around his bicep. 

He pulls back. Peers at you through hooded eyes. “What is it, baby?” he asks through labored breaths. 

“Need you — please.”

He immediately unbuckles your seatbelt. Lowers his seat back and manhandles you onto his lap. You go easily; slot yourself to him with legs folded on either side of his thighs. 

Wrapping your arms around the back of his neck, you grind down into his lap. His cock strains against denim underneath you. He groans when you swivel your hips and brush the heft of it again with your clothed heat.

“You gonna let me fuck you?” he asks into your mouth, his forehead pressed to yours.

Your breath catches. 

You know what he’s really asking: are you going to  let him fuck you here, in the parking lot of a public establishment, where anybody could see?

But you don’t care. In fact, you’re way past caring, the emptiness of your cunt too painful to ignore any longer. Let them watch him take what’s his.

You nod frantically. “Yes,” you pant. “Please.”

Joel nods too, as if he’s accepting his fate. He’s going to fuck his friend’s daughter in the passenger seat of her car. There’s no way around it — not when you’re begging for it. He’s going to give you what you need.

“Okay,” he soothes, “I got you baby.” 

He helps you out of your pants, then; clumsily maneuvers them down and off your legs along with your panties and tosses them aimlessly into the back.

He doesn’t bother to take his jeans off. Lets you unzip them and pop the button open, your nimble fingers making quick work of it. And then you’re pulling his cock out of his boxers, stiff and leaking in your grasp.

You steady yourself with hands on his shoulders just as he begins to pepper placating kisses along your neck. “Go ahead baby,” he whispers into your ear. “Take it; it’s yours.”

His head falls back against the seat as you stroke him a few times and line his cock up with your dripping entrance, his hands clasped around your waist. 

You sink down slowly, savoring every inch of him as he burrows in deeper. He’s so thick, stretching you like it’s the first time again, your walls fluttering as they relax around his cock.

“Fuck,” Joel slurs, fingers digging into your skin impatiently when you still, fully seated on him.

“Gotta move baby — please move.”

He’s so fucking deep, though, his cockhead bumping your cervix, and your entire body feels gelatinous atop him. A cloying sort of heat hangs around your head. You swivel your hips weakly, your forehead falling to rest on his with a heavy sigh.

Joel is happy to take control, bucking up into you so hard you see stars. You can’t suppress the string of moans that spill from your mouth, and Joel doesn’t seem to mind. He’s just as loud, anyway, his broken sounds bleeding into yours, bouncing off glass and leather.

Neither of you can muster an actual word, though, not with him rutting up into you, sheathing himself in your pussy over and over again. He’s relentlessly hitting that spot — the one that has you practically clinging to him for dear life. 

It’s approaching too quickly; he’s going to make you come.

One of your hands flies to the roof of the car in an attempt to brace yourself, flat palm pressing into it so hard you worry it’ll pop. 

Joel takes the opportunity to drag you down in his lap, spearing you on his cock, and the sudden change in angle makes you cry out.

“Oh f— ahh, oh my—“

“That’s it,” he coos, “you got it, babygirl.”

His words tip you over the edge, your entire body locking up as you gush around him. You’re wetting his lap, slick splattering his thighs, and he loves it, his fervid moan telling you so.

His movements begin to falter then, hips stuttering underneath you as he chases his own high.

“Cmon, baby,” you goad, “please fill me up.”

He grunts when he spills inside, his face nestling in your chest, heaving as he works through it and begins to come down. You don’t move, not that Joel would let you, still holding you on his lap like he’s afraid to let you go.

You nuzzle into his embrace as his cock softens inside you.

You stay like that for a while, probably too long given that anybody could easily look into the car and see you straddling him. You don’t have the energy to care.

Eventually, you lift your head from its spot on Joel’s chest. Look up at him with bleary eyes.

“Joel,” you say.

He meets your gaze, face shiny with sweat and his hair a mess. He looks gorgeous like this, you think. The way only you get to see him.

“Yeah?” He grazes along your arm with featherlight fingers. His touch raises goosebumps on your skin.

“Did you mean it?”

“Mean what?”

“About wanting me.” In truth, you’re not sure you want the answer. But you need to know, definitively, if Joel is yours. You’re done sharing him.

“Oh, baby,” he drawls. “Of course I do. You’re all I want. Do you want me?”

And it’s a stupid question. He has to know that. You’re nodding before he can even finish it. “Yes,” you breathe. “I want you, Joel”

“Then it’s settled. It’s me and you. No more…interlopers.”

You giggle. Reluctantly separate yourself from his body and re-dress. You settle back into the driver’s seat with achy legs.

You’ve never felt more content than you do in this moment.

Still, you’ll have to hide — won’t be able to share the news of your new relationship with friends or coworkers, your dad — and neither will Joel. 

You don’t care much, not as long as he’s yours, but you need to be sure he feels the same.

“Joel,” you stop him as he opens the passenger-side door to get out. He stills with one leg swung out the door.

“Yeah, darlin’?”

“Are you sure you don’t mind…being a secret? Don’t mind keeping me a secret?”

He looks at you like you have two heads.

He pulls his leg back into the car. Shuts the door and leans over the console again.

Taking your chin between his fingers, he forces your gaze. Makes sure you’re listening.

“I want you — doesn’t matter who knows or doesn’t know. Long as you’re mine.”

Your chest tightens, and your heart squeezes inside your ribcage.

“I’m yours?”

He smiles. Presses a chaste kiss between your eyes, on the tip of your nose, on your lips. The same way he did the other morning. 

It all feels somehow sweeter, now.

“Yeah, angel. You’re mine. My girl.”

end notes: tysm for reading! please consider commenting and/or reblogging if you enjoyed! I've been toying with the idea of turning this into a series so lmk if that's something you'd be interested in hehe.

Also, I hopped on the bandwagon and made a sideblog for notifs! I'll be doing away with a taglist from here on out, so follow @joelscurlsupdates & turn on notifications if you wanna be notified when I post a new fic :-)

tag list: @janaispunk @amanitacowboy @fhatbhabie @frannyzooey @lola8888673

[joelsmochi]

every man gets his wish - joel miller

rating: E 18+ pairing: neighbor!joel x f!pornstar!reader summary: joel discovers his next door neighbor makes porn in her spare time. once she's confronted, she finds out that he has an interest in helping create content ;) warnings: not proofread, no physical descriptions other than reader having an unidentified tattoo on her thigh and nice peach, unspecified age gap (ur choice pookie), [m] masturbation, objectively joel is a bit of a perv, some awkward dialogue, literal porn. literally, degradation (they get a lil rough), f + m oral, smacking/spanking, daddy kink (slight ddlg vibes too), pet names and plenty of dirty talk YUM wc: 3.2k a/n: happy valentine's day smut sluts :D!

He almost couldn’t believe his eyes, but he’d recognize that tattoo anywhere; his gaze followed the tattoo on the back of your thigh as you rode your cute little excuse for a toy.

Your soft moans and breaths echoing through the speakers on his laptop made his legs tremble against the old desk chair in his room while he fucked his fist.

He didn’t even think twice about the video he clicked on. He just knew he was horny and in need of quick release, so he typed his favorite keywords into Pornhub’s search engine and clicked the sixth video that only showed your ass. He realized he never noticed how juicy it was, and the oil or lotion or lube or whatever you fucking used to make it so goddamn shiny only emphasized how perfect it was.

Staring at the screen, he grasped the armrest in one hand and cock in the other, watching your puffy pussy cream all over the dildo. He matched the strokes of his hand with the rhythm of you bouncing. Slowing down, speeding up, only fucking the tip or grinding—he reenacted every movement of yours as best he could.

Even waiting until you were shaking and shouting the words, “I’m cumming—fuck yes! Just like that baby,” before cumming with you.

He watched the last few minutes of the video, watching you slap the dildo on your creamy cunt and play with it a little more along with standing up off of your bed and jiggling your ass in your hands. You giggled softly watching yourself. Then, much to his surprise, you sat down in front of the camera and smiled.

He wasn’t expecting you to reveal your face, so when the video ended he looked out of his bedroom window into yours. You were lying on the bed reading a book in the very spot where you recorded that filthy video.

You weren’t trying to tease him, he knew that, but it certainly felt that way.

♡

Joel had successfully managed to evade you for a week feigning work has been keeping him too tired for company. He found himself a touch jealous that the world had seen you naked before him despite your relationship being completely platonic.

You owed him nothing, not even an explanation, but he still felt weirdly possessive over you. He had a slight crush on you when you first moved in, but you were so much younger than he was, and in his eyes you'd want nothing to do with such an old man like himself. Not to mention the 'crush' was mostly just a lingering desperation to fuck you.

The discovery led him to do a deep dive into your profile on the website. There he discovered what seemed like a plethora of your content along with your affinity for degradation whether it was to yourself or towards others.

However he felt like he could finally breathe when he saw it was all solo content. You didn't even seem to entertain the idea of fucking someone else and uploading it. He even felt a sliver of hope that he could be your first real fuck on camera, but if he already struggled with confronting his own feelings towards you then how could he ever open up the opportunity to doing a video with you?

Joel was finally over avoiding you. He was ready to admit his discovery to you and go from there. He just prayed you wouldn't freak out.

"Hi, Joel!" You greeted after opening your front door. "What's been goin' on cowboy, I've been a little lonely on this side of town."

He followed your actions and sat on your sofa; as instant as a heartbeat you noticed he was off. Nervous? Worry? Anger? You struggled to read him.

"Somethin' the matter?"

He pulled himself out of his daze and looked at you, mouth hanging open like he couldn't manage the words. They just sort of... Spilled out.

"I found your porn on PornHub the other day and I don't care that you sell porn. I really don't. You're a grown woman and it's your body and you can do whatever you want. I just felt wrong not tellin' you."

Poor Joel.

You wanted to laugh at him, tell him there was no guilt in finding it or even watching it (because let's face it, you know he did).

"Okay," you said.

"Okay..."

"...Did you like it?" You asked after feeling a little uneasy with the silence.

"Hell yeah," he responded without hesitation making you giggle.

"Really?" You tittered, "I feel like it gets old."

This was his golden opportunity. At the very least he could pass what he was about to say off as a joke.

"I could always help with that," he chuckled.

You were clearly taken aback by his statement but still smiling. "I'm don't like sharing my money, Joel," you scoffed.

"So don't pay me," he said just as he leaned in a little closer. "Just fuck me."

You couldn't fight the blush that rose to your cheeks and he cockily took notice of it.

"Are you fucking with me?" You bashfully asked.

This made him lean in closer, close enough for you to smell him, close enough to feel his breath cascading over your collarbones, close enough to know that the dark look in his eyes wasn't mischief. It was desire.

His hands cupped your jaw so that he could bring your nose to his. You felt beautifully trapped between his hands, gaze, and aura. Suddenly you were filled with the desire to let him take you in any way he wanted to imagine.

"You know what my favorite video is?" He whispered, breath hitting your lips. "You were on your side, getting ready to cum, and you kept saying I belong to you until you were screaming. Damn near crying. Your little fucktoy was soaked. You had cum everywhere. But the best part was when you did start to cum. You couldn't even look away from yourself, you looked too damn good and you fucking knew it."

"I'd look even better with you inside of me," you told him.

He sharply inhaled before placing his needy lips onto yours, pressing his face in as much as he could.

You moaned into his open mouth, reaching for his tongue with your own. His hands roamed down your body until they reached your hips; showing off his strength, he lifted you into his lap and stood up not wanting to waste another second.

He tried to be careful on the stairs but his eagarity caused him to misstep and almost drop you; he left no room for embarrassment and quickly returned to running up with you giggling at the mishap.

Joel placed you on the bed standing with his jean-covered erection eye level with you. "Where's your camera?"

"Really wanna record it, hmm?" You said softly, running your hand along his hard length and motioning your head to the dresser behind him.

He grabbed it, muttering, "Wanna show everyone you're mine now," whilst turning the camera on.

You cocked an eyebrow up as if to say oh really. "Is that so? I'm all yours now?"

Smiling, he pointed the now recording camera at you. He cupped your chin and dragged a finger over the bright smile you wore. "You're all mine now, darlin'."

You giggled coyly then kissed his clad erection slowly with eyes that remained on the lens.

"Quit teasin'," he demanded with a playful lilt.

You hummed and fake pouted, pulling your face away to toggle his jeans. "There are nicer ways to ask," you teased.

"I'm not askin'."

"Oh? My apologies, daddy."

Your hand began pumping his thick cock when you said that, making his cock jerk hard within your tight grip.

"Daddy, huh?" He entertained; you seductively nodded. "S'pretty right here..."

"Where I belong," you hummed.

Then, you lined your tongue up with the base of his cock, just barely teasing his balls, and licked a stripe up his girthy shaft before twirling your tongue around his red hot tip. You carefully watched as his face contorted, ensuring it was with pleasure and looking for any sensitive spots he may have.

He seemed to favor your tongue on his cockhead so that's what you prioritized for a minute. You tongue kissed it as if it were his mouth. Licking and sucking and pulling it into your mouth feverishly.

His cock tasted manly and the length was just as impressive as him. You finally pulled more of him into your mouth allowing him the privilege of feeling your gummy cheeks swell and close around his dick.

A strained groan left his throat and his head fell back in pleasure. You pushed some of him into your throat to gag, earning more spit to pump the rest of his length with.

Joel was enamoured to say the least. Your wide eyes locked with his letting him know you loved sucking his cock as much as he did. Spit hung from your chin prompting him to reangle the camera to get the side view of everything.

He placed a hand on the back of your head and gently fucked your throat. You moaned, grabbing his ass and pulling him in for more pain, more suffocation.

Your throat gagged over and over again, imitating the feeling of your swallowing his dick. You loved how he shamelessly moaned, filling your ears with the sexy sounds of his calloused whimpers and content praises.

"Such a good girl, sucking daddy's cock like that," he groaned. "You like the taste, don't you? Such a good little slut." He smacked your jaw as encouragement to keep doing whatever magic you were fucking performing.

Once your throat began to get sore you pulled your mouth off of him, still opting to use your hands as he laid you down and rested on top of you, giving you the sloppiest kiss you'd ever received and assisting you with undressing.

He tasted his cock on your lips and chin and slurped up whatever precum and spit you had leftover. It felt nasty and passionate, with subtle moans spilling from both of you, and Joel couldn't get enough of it.

"Sit on my face," he breathed.

"Sit on your face?"

"Mmhm."

You set the camera up on the dresser looking at the screen to ensure it would capture everything before complying with his wish. He let out a muffled moan as soon as your wet pussy came in contact with his wet mouth.

On the camera, everything could be seen: your cunt glistened effortlessly and his tongue lapped up whatever your body poured for him. His scruff tickling your freshly shaved skin made you giggle and moan, little noises everywhere that sung like a melody in his ears.

Your clit tingled with a pressure that encouraged you to started riding his face. In response Joel's calloused hands came up to grip your ass and assisted your movements.

He squeezed one cheek almost too hard before spanking it a few times, your flesh easily bruising red and stinging deliciously.

"Joel, your mouth... Perfect," you blabbered. You were filled with bliss: your eyes were closed, fingers twirling playfully in his messy hair.

God, he licked you so fucking good. So messy but that's what made it effortlessly perfect.

"I—oh my God. Fuck! I love your fucking mouth," you moaned loudly.

"Mhm?"

You shuddered at the vibrations, hips stuttering into his licks and sucks even deeper.

"Yes, Joel!" You cried, "Fuck you're gonna make me cum... You're gonna make me cum!"

He spanked your ass even more at this, making both cheeks turn a bashful color and jiggle against his jawline.

With trembling thighs you managed all of your strength to hump him harder and faster. Doing whatever you fucking could to reach your climax.

"Yesyesyesyesyesyes!" You happily cheered as your juices began to relentlessly pour out of your squelching cunt and down his chin.

A satisfied smile rose to your face as your clit throbbed through the orgasm Joel had just given you. You slowed down on your own time allowing him to savor every last drop he'd be tasting for now.

You carefully removed your weight from his face, feeling more out of breath than ever. Meanwhile Joel sat up and swiped up some of your come with his thumb just before forcing it into your mouth and using his other hand to pinch out some that managed to get inside of his nose.

You were a tad embarrassed by his action but his subtle grin let you know that there was nothing more sexy than getting you so wet that it literally almost suffocated him.

Your mouth latched into him, cherishing the scruff surrounding his face. He went to lay on top of you again, your head now hanging off of the foot of the bed; he held your legs to your chest and slid into you easily making you whine at the slight burn that came with being stretched out.

With furrowed brows and an agape mouth, he incandescently moaned into the thick air while his thick thumb found your sensitive clit. You flinched and exhaled harmoniously at the combination of pleasure, enriched in the ecstasy he gave.

"You're so fuckin' tight, babydoll. Agh—almost can't take it," he taunted. "M'gonna have to ruin ya."

He gently released the grip of your legs and put his weight onto you. His arms slithered beneath you, wrapping around you in a way that made you feel safe. Then he kissed you, much more softly than before and rolled his hips back and forth. Your slick walls gripped him, trying to suck him in deeper.

His lips pulled off of you with a pop and he licked a thick line from your clavicle to behind your ear as if he magically knew it was your sweet spot.

You giggled and shivered at the ticklish feeling, enduring it until it started to feel more sensual. He felt you relax within his touch and took it as opportunity to nibble the spot, biting it just enough to hurt a little bit.

Between his movements and your sweaty bodies sticking together you felt almost useless; you were used to doing the work, giving instead of taking. But it felt too good to stop now.

When you clawed at his back he pushed himself up and started slamming into you. You gasped, digging your nails into his arms.

"Love those pretty little sounds you're makin' f'me," he hummed, pushing his hand into your exposed neck and gripping it. "You like that? Hm? Ohh, you fucking love it. Look it at you."

You raised a hand and smacked his cheek lightly—your way of saying fuck you considering his grasp of you. He reciprocated, landing a firm smack to your face and earning a smile in return.

"Fuckin' brat needs to be put in her place—"

You shook your head attempting to hum out a no.

The hand he had around your neck reached up to squish your cheeks so that he could come eye to eye with you. "God, fuck. I can't even punish you when you look at me with those pretty eyes," he said defeatedly. "Look at you, babydoll. You're so fuckin' tight. Best fuckin' pussy ever. So wet, just f'me."

"All yours, Joel. I'm all yours."

"Yeah?" He cooed. "You're all mine?"

"Fuck yes!"

"Cum for me, baby. Yeah, cum on my cock," he pleaded, "get it nice and wet for me darlin', need you to cum for me."

Between his scruff voice and brutal thrusts you found yourself falling into another orgasm, everything around you ceased to exist.

The world went quiet aside from Joel's encouragements and praises; you could feel the blood pumping throughout your body, your heart punching against your chest, and your body molding to the twists and curves of Joel's body.

As you squeezed and scratched and begged him for more more more you felt the tension between your legs dissolve passionately into a sear so strong you felt it warm and burning the flesh along your belly.

Joel watched your chest rise and fall with your tits bouncing to the rhythm of his thrusts. He rode you out until the very end of your high before picking you up and sitting on the edge of the bed with you straddling him.

Feeling even more horny and turned on than before you wasted no time and began bouncing on his painfully hard dick.

He was fighting his climax, needing to feel you wrapped around him as long as he could take.

"You feel so fucking good, daddy," you whined, "want your cum."

"You want me to cum inside you babydoll?" He pouted.

"Yes Joel. Want you to fill me up..."

"Gonna ruin that pretty pussy," he grunted, "gonna make you mine. This pussy belongs to me now, doesn't it?"

He listened to you whimper and weep and whine, coaxing you through it all while offering a few pops to your ass and thighs for encouragement.

You watched him lay down, arms folded behind his head to enjoy the little show you were putting on for him. Hair bouncing and flaying everywhere while you rode him with a bobbling head—the view from where he was looked pretty fucking perfect.

Your movements halted and you managed to turn around on his cock while keeping it inside; hearing a strained gurgly moan come from him as a result, you mercilessly began riding him again giving him the best view of your ass as it clapped against the peak of his belly.

"Good fuckin' slut," he slapped your tatted thigh and watched intently for a moment or two. "Good girl, mhmm. Doin' such a perfect job on daddy's cock."

Joel then sat up and reached for your clit, rubbing the sweetest little circles on it and using his free hand to turn your face to kiss him.

Reverse cowgirl had always been him favorite position, but he can't remember a time or even a moment where it felt this fucking good.

"You're gonna make me cum, baby," he whispered with his forehead leaning against yours. "Gonna make me fuckin' cum. Tha' what you want, baby? Want your daddy to fill this fuckin' pussy up?"

He gave your clit a mean smack but it only made you go faster.

"Need you to cum! Fucking—ohh! Cum for me, please daddy. Want you to f-fill me up!"

Joel began thrusting to meet you halfway, and his eyes stayed locked with yours as he muttered a string of profanities.

"Oh shit. Ohfuckohfuckohfuck. Fuck yes!"

He painted your pussy with his hot, sticky ropes of cum, moaning your name over and over with fluttering eyes and a tight grip on your hips. He thrusted a few more times before pulling out and meeting you with a few more soft kisses as a thank you.

You felt his cum slowly pouring out of your swollen cunt, trailing down his softening cock and on the sheets. You two stayed like that for a while, savoring the moment and taking your time.

A while later while he was cleaning up between your legs he said, "You better upload that video."

"You weren't joking?" You scoffed, wearing a smile.

"I wasn't joking," he said contently.

That night once he had fallen asleep in your bed, you decided to upload the full video uncut with the perfect title...

My DILF Neighbor Comes Over For A Creampie ♡

346K Views | 93% | 16 Hours Ago | ♡ 532

[ourautumn86]

c*m hub

ellie williams x fem! reader

💋making cash and making love!

cw; +18 content, minors dni!!, dom! ellie, sub! reader, use of sex platform, strap on sex (r! receiving), hair pulling, choking, voyeurism, multiple orgasms, begging, praising, teasing, daddy kink, breeding kink, dirty talk, praise, pussy slaps, messy sex, oral sex (r! receiving), mouth fucking w fingers (r! receiving), degradation…

old collab w/ @abbyscherry that got taken down. thanks again for this amazing work love!!❤️

KEEP TALKING ABOUT PALESTINE! BOYCOTT THOSE WHO LET THIS GENOCIDE HAPPEN!

how you can help

“yeah just like that baby, oh fuck. bounce on my cock.” your moans were filling your room, one of ellie’s hands on your ass, guiding you up and down on her strap, fucking you so deep you could feel it on your cervix. “so fucking good for me. taking my cock so good…”

you slammed your hips harder down against her own, making her groan as the back of the strap rubbed against her clit.

“that’s it. ride my dick. atta fucking girl…” you whimpered. the image was so dirty, ellie pointing at your pussy swallowing her strap hole with her phone, your white cream dripping down the length of her cock onto the base on a white ring. ellie could almost taste it on her tongue. taste you. maybe if you were a good girl for her she could clean you all up later. “she’s greedy huh? greediest fuckin’ pussy i’ve ever seen” you moaned, fucking yourself harder onto her, your thighs burning. you couldn’t stop. it felt so good…

“els” you whimpered softly, your weak arms wrapped around her neck, your nimble fingers sliding through her damp hair, tugging just enough to tear a grunt from her lips.

“come on baby speak up, what do you want? you want me to fuck you open for all of them to see?” her deep voice muttered against the skin of your neck, sucking a bruise that you’d proudly wear for everyone to see. her eyes latched onto your beautiful breasts, bouncing with every little jump you took on her cock.

“daddy—”

ellie couldn’t help but smirk, her auburn eyebrows curving.

“daddy, huh?” she chuckled, seeing your cheeks turn red. “that’s right baby, i’m your fucking daddy.” her hips thrusted upwards, making you let out the most wonderful moan she has ever heard as the tip of her cock reached your most sensitive spots. “what do y’all think? should daddy give it to her?” she asked to those who were watching her stream, smirking at the donations and money coming through saying that yes, she should totally fuck your brains out.

wordlessly, you’re nodding your head against hers, not even looking at the donations that endlessly flow, and your lips are pressing random kisses to her neck. The sounds of your small ‘yes yes yes’ chants echoing in her ears.

ellie chuckled. “y’all are too good to her. does she deserve it though? do you deserve it babygirl?” she asked, low, sultry. you could cum just by the sound of her voice.

“please daddy, i’ll be good. i’ll be a good girl.” you begged.

“course you will baby, look at you. fucked out and dumb on my cock already”

“want it. want all of it.” your pleading puppy eyes stared into her greenish ones, grinding yourself down with her cock deep inside of you, making your mind and vision dizzy. it felt so good. to feel her like this.

“yeah? you want it?” you nodded, your back arching as one of her hands came up to your chest to cup your right tit, thumb and index pinching your nipple. “then lay on your back for me, baby.” she slightly pushed you until you were falling on your back, whimpering when you felt her cock slide out of your aching and soaked pussy. you needed her back in. needed her deep. as deep as she could reach.

your eyes were wide but hooded, your body shivered as her fingers trailed down your stomach, across your hip bones and between your legs, where she aimed the phone closer, giving them a good view of your pussy. those hazel green eyes focused on the screen, mouth watering at the sight of her fingers so effortlessly peeling apart your folds, groaning out a soft “fuck” as she watches your hole clench around nothing, your slick dripping. “look at her, i told ya, so fuckin’ needy for more” she rasps out.

a scream rips your throat at the slap she gives to your cunt, making your back arch.

“she really needs it, huh?” next thing you felt? her cock gliding through your folds, teasing you, bumping against your clit. it was so fucking big and thick it always hurt to take it, but it hurt so good… you wanted her to break you over and over again after the first time she filled you up with it, begging her to go harder, to use you. and she had. so good.

you cried out. “that’s it baby. let them hear you.”

“please daddy, please…”

she clicked her tongue. “nuh-uh baby. don’t beg me. beg them.” she smirked, pointing the camera at your face. the chat went crazy at your fucked out expression and teary eyes.

you gulped, staring right into the camera. “please. fuck me please.” you whined, moaning when ellie’s hips thrusted against your cunt, the tip of her cock rubbing against your puffy throbbing clit.

“so fucking needy” she grits out, one hand gripping your hip, and the other still holding the phone somewhat still. “i might as well give it to her, don’t y’all think?” she smirked at the positive comments. and you let out a gasp when she slid in in a quick and harsh thrust, all the way to the base.

“fuck!” you screamed. “fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!” you cried out as she started to slowly fuck you on her cock, her hips moving so swiftly.

“thaaats it. taking it so good. nice and deep baby.” you were a moaning mess. you were so full.

“ ‘s too big! too big!” you whimpered, feeling your walls squeezing the silicone. ellie groaned. she believed she could feel you, sucking her right in.

“too big baby? is my cock too big for your little pussy?” she inquired. “look at you, whining about it yet you’re milking me dry. fuck” the back of the strap was rubbing against her clit. “look so good taking it, honey. such a good girl for daddy.” you moaned. one of her hands took a grip of your leg, pushing it against your chest, her cock now reaching deeper, kissing your cervix. your eyes rolled back. she was in so deep.

“fuck me, daddy. harder.” you begged, and she groaned.

“fucking slut. can’t get enough of my cock, can you?” a harsh thrust had you screaming. “you want it baby? want me to break this pretty little pussy open on my dick?” you nodded. “words.” she spat, and your lips parted.

“yes! yes please, daddy.”

scoffing under her breath, she mutters out something along the lines of ‘just a dirty girl’ or ‘too dumb to think’ you weren’t exactly sure anymore, not with how good her cock felt— how good she felt. “look at you, fuckin’ taking my cock so well, shit” She chokes out, the hand she has on your leg, gripping harder. “made to take my fuckin’ cock”

“can’t! els s’too much, please” you wail, fingernails bluntly digging into her arm, leaving crescent moons in your wake.

“stop being a cry baby and fucking take it.” she grunted, pistoning inside you. the chat was going crazy at the sight of your pussy sucking in her cock, the silicone drenched in your juices. you were screaming at this point. “so fucking loud.” she groaned, stuffing two of her fingers down your throat. “there. you just needed something to keep that pretty little mouth of yours busy with, hm? come on darling, open up.” you followed, open up further for her and relaxing your throat, gagging when she pushed them even deeper. “thaats it. gag on my fingers, doll.” there was spit dribbling down your chin as she abused your mouth and cunt. you felt so full. your eyes welled up with tears, they flickered between her hazel green ones and the camera that was capturing the lewd image of your cunt swallowing her whole. “fuck. wanna fuck a baby into you, doll. wanna fill you up. wanna leave you dripping for a week with my cum.”

your cunt clenched around her cock, humming in agreement around her fingers at her obscene words. ellie simply chuckles at the way you continue to gag on her fingers, unable to say anything other than making gargled sounds of agreement. “course you’d want that, to be round with my kids, huh? feel my cum filling your pussy, hm?”

the thought of it alone had you whimpering around her fingers, tears rolled uncontrollably down your already tear stained cheeks as you nodded your head as quick as lightening. “yeah, i’ll make you a mama— fuck. you’ll make the prettiest mama, all swollen with my kids. maybe i’ll fuck two into you, hm? would you like that baby? give me twins? make me a daddy?”

all you could really do was nod pathetically. “answer me.” she grunted, pulling her fingers out of your mouth, making you whimper. you missed them.

“yes, yes, please yes…”

“such a dirty little slut” you whined, your hips pushing against the harsh thrust that she gave you, seeking more.

“give it to me daddy. please give me your cum.” ellie moaned, fucking you harder. needier.

the wet squelches of your pussy taking her cock were filling the room along with your choked out moans. knowing that thousands of people were actually watching you right now as ellie fucked the conscience out of you had your cheeks glowing a beautiful crimson.

you could feel that well-known devastating warmth spreading on your stomach, feeling pressure on your spine. you started bucking your hips against hers, seeking for her to reach deeper. you looked desperate. like an animal in heat. maybe you were. so desperate to cum you were trembling. shaking under her hold. the pings of donations were deafening. “you hear that baby? hear how much they want you? but you’re mine, aren’t you? fucking mine.” you nodded. “say it.”

“i’m yours. yours daddy, yours.” you slurred, feeling cock drunk. so close to cumming. your cunt was pulsing. she could almost feel it.

“you gonna cum, baby? gonna milk my cock, hm?” you moaned. “yeah that’s right. tight fucking pussy. my pussy. my fucking pussy.”

“wanna make you a daddy” you hiccup. “i’ll make you a daddy” that only makes her fuck you faster, harder, cutting off your moans with every thrust. “ellie, gonna… gonna cum!” you somehow managed to babble in between sobs and whimpers.

“yeah, fucking right.” she moaned, feeling her own high approaching by the way the back of the strap rubbed her swollen and throbbing clit. quickly removing her hand and grip on your leg, she places the same hand lightly around your throat, enjoying the way your eyes widen. “gonna give it to daddy, baby?” she chuckled, fingers twitching against your neck.

you nodded, using your own hand to put more pressure on hers. “more…”

the noise she made was somewhere between a breathless chuckle or grunt, you weren’t really sure but she inhaled sharply through her nose. “you really are fuckin’ dirty aren’t you?” she growled, fingers tightening around your neck just enough to have your lips parting and back arching. the lack of air in your lungs only turned you on even more. “c’mon pretty, give it to daddy like the good girl you are” she didn’t have to ask twice. before you know it moans were spilling from your lips as your walls choked her cock, pulsing and creaming all over the silicone as she fucked you through it, camera focused on the way your cum dribbled out of your hole. “good girl. good fucking girl.” she grunted, feeling her high approaching by just the sight alone. “fuck. gonna cum baby. gonna cum inside this tight little pussy. gonna fuck a baby into you. fuck, fuck, fuck!” she moaned. you begged for it. tears swelling in your eyes.

“inside daddy please, cum inside!” you whimpered, feeling her thrust one, two, three more sloppy times before she was grunting and cumming all over her strap.

“fuuuuuuck.” she groaned, fucking herself through it, using you like a little fuck toy. you moaned when she finally stilled, breathing ragged and hazel eyes glasses over in lust.

the pings of donations wouldn’t stop coming. fuck. she was gonna spoil the shit out of you after this.

and maybe she could start now.

“take the phone.” she ordered, handing you the it. your shaky hands took it, your vision turning white for a moment as she pulled out of you. you whimpered. feeling empty. you hoped she would fuck you again. even stay inside and let you cockwarm her.

you watched through the screen, the camera was focused on her exposed chest, perky little breasts making your mouth water. you wanted to suck on them. then, she slowly got onto her stomach and in between your legs, hazel eyes staring up at you and into the camera. you bit down onto your lip, spreading your legs wider for her, to what she hummed. she looked at your pussy. at your swollen and glistening pussy, and groaned. “so fucking wet…” you moaned when the feeling of warm spit pooled in between your folds. she was slowly dribbling onto your cunt. her hand found your pussy to spread the wetness around and expose your twitching hole just to spit on it. you whined, your hips bucking against her face, what made her chuckle. “eager, aren’t we?” and then her tongue was on you, and you were moaning, the phone tilting upwards as your grip staggered. she sucked on your clit and let go with a pop, her free hand coming up to straighten the camera for you. “keep it still or i’ll stop.” she threatened, and your eyes rolled back. there it was. that sultry voice of her that made you drip.

the hand that wasn’t holding onto the phone threads through her auburn hair, tugging just enough that she hums into your pussy, willingly letting you push her head closer. your breath shaky as you continue to watch her eagerly slurp and suck at your folds through the little cracked screen. “sweetest pussy i’ve ever tasted”

you were looking at the chat, reading the messages that the people posted as ellie slowly yet hungrily ate you out. you were biting on your lip, rocking your hips against her face, making her grunt. she looked at the camera, licking you up from hole to clit, sucking on it and making you moan. you knew she was doing it for you, to rile you up.

“fuck, ellie.” you sighed as she suckled on your clit, slurping up your slick and kissing your folds. “your fingers. your fingers please.” you pleaded. and she moaned, one of her fingers quickly finding your entrance and prodding against it, teasing you. “daddy, please.. i’ve been so good”

“you guys think she has? think she’s been good enough for daddy?” the comments filled the screen, the donations ringing. ellie grinned against your folds. she knew what that meant. “well then…” and suddenly she was pushing her middle finger in, making you gasp.

“fuck!” you cried out, your hips bucking against her face to push her deeper. she continued lapping at your pussy, looking at your expressions. she loved to se you fall apart under her tongue.

“yeah?” she inquired. she knew she was good. “that good, huh?” she teased, curling her finger against your g spot.

your fingers tangled tighter in her hair, nails scratching at her scalp. “so good daddy, always” you knew this only riled her up more, made her needier for you. she was thrusting against the sheets, rutting her puffy clit and soaked pussy against the back of her strap for some friction as she pushed in a second finger. you sighed. “yes, fuck. yes just like that.” she hummed as you cried out, feeling your second orgasm of the night approaching at great speed. “gonna cum again, oh fuck, gonna cum again!” you whimpered, and she went faster, sucked harder on your clit.

“i know, can feel it. pussy’s squeezing around my fingers, fuck” she groans hoarsely. “let daddy have it yeah? c’mon, please” she’s begging. groaning when your legs tighten around her head, keeping her caged in.

it’s happening before you can even ask her to cum, like you normally would. your fingers gripping her hair so tightly that she’s hissing, the movements of her tongue and fingers still fucking into you at a hard pace.

she devours you. eats you up. slurps on your cum and satiates herself. you always taste like fucking heaven.

both your worlds disconnect for a moment. you forget about the stream, and almost about breathing as you ride out your orgasm, thighs shaking at the sides of ellie’s face. and when you both come to your senses, you’re spent. and now thousands of dollars richer.

and maybe and just maybe, once the stream is over, you two fuck for hours on end. this time for yourselves, until you’re both passing out on each other’s arms and with cum in between your thighs.

“love you, els”

“i love you, baby”

-

a/n; hi babies, i’ve missed you so much! have a couple of works on drafts for you so you’ll be hearing from me soon :))

also ty so so so so much for the 9k followers i’m so happy i don’t deserve y’all😭❤️

[studioghibelli]

always yours- a joel miller x reader

summary: joel has carried guilt with him his entire life, especially after losing you many years ago. you were young and naive, and joel was cold and distant, a match that simply wasn’t meant to be. (so he thought.) when he and ellie finally make it to wyoming, he’s in for the surprise of a lifetime.

warnings: joel pov for a bit, pining, so so much pining, ellie and joel dynamics, a lot of angst, various flashbacks throughout the story, guilt is one of the main themes of this piece of writing, a rather large age gap that is the center of joel’s guilt, a very brief mention of joel having sex with another woman (tess), post outbreak, and of course- smut. (allusion to m receiving oral, brief female masturbation, unprotected sex, cream pie, f receiving oral, some dirty talk.) mdni

The smell of pine swirled lazily in the air, the promise of a fresh snowstorm making its way through the tree line like the wafting scent of slow baking cookies. The white ground crunched beneath Joel’s leather boots, imprinting the shadow of their soles into the thick wintered earth. With each step his bones ached, shoulders heavy with the fate of the world.

Behind him, a figure trucked lazily behind, giggles occasionally filling his ears.

“What’re you up to back there?”

“Hey, hey. Check this one out, Joel. Why did the can crusher quit his job?” There was a long moment of silence. “Because it was….. soda pressing. Ha! Get it?” Ellie jogged closer to Joel, nudging him with her elbow. “Do you- do you get it, Joel?”

A heavy grunt escaped the man. “Yeah, I get it.” A tooth pick hung loosely from his lips as he glanced down at the girl, a slow roll of his eyes following.

“Want to hear some more?”

“I’d rather not.”

“Okay. Okay… that’s fine.” Ellie cleared her throat, humming as she took in the world around her. “I do have something on my mind. Something real heavy.”

Joel looked at her, his eyes glossed over with a hint of concern. “What is it?”

“Last week I….I-” Ellie paused, sniffling a bit, feigning a look of guilt. “Last week I called someone a watering hole, but I swear I meant well!”

Joel stopped, his jaw clenching momentarily before he met the gaze of Ellie who, in the midst of her terrible joke, was choking back a roar of laughter. He sighed out, shoulder slacking, before giving in to the chuckle stuck in his throat.

“Okay, okay. That wasn’t half bad, I’ll give you that.”

“You’re laughing! I made you laugh! I know you liked that one.”

“I did. Don’t know what’s wrong with me.” Joel shook his head with the hint of a grin teasing against his mouth. “Now quit with the shitty jokes, alright? You’ll miss the scenery.”

Ellie saluted him sternly, giving him a thick nod. “Aye, aye, Captain!” She declared.

Joel sucked in a thick breath.

You were staring at him, with your big, beautiful eyes, gnawing on a stale, unseasoned piece of venison jerky. The flickering flames of the campfire in front of you illuminated your face with glimmering sheens of orange, blanketing the hue of your skin with crimson and gold. A sunset, personified.

He stared at you, long and hard, analyzing every inch of you, taking in your beauty. He wanted to drown in it. The softness of you lips, the apples of your cheeks, the bridge of your nose. Joel wondered how smooth your skin was, how the curve of your waist would feel against his calloused palms, how the heat of your breath would feel fanning against his throat. His eyes dragged down to your small hands, eyeing your manicured nails. What shape would they imprint upon his skin?

“Who the fuck made this shit, Joel?” You guffawed, rubbing your eye with your free fist. “I hate jerky. Tired of it!”

“Well, you’ve just never had good jerky. Before the end times, we had lots of good brands. Jack Link was pretty popular. Was my favorite.” Joel looked at you, a stray curl falling against his forehead as he set the paper bag down. “Ever heard of them?”

“No. Never. When…. all this happened, I was too young to remember. I’ve got no memories from that time, honestly.”

It was a simple statement. One that shouldn’t have made Joel’s stomach clench and turn. Yet it reminded him. It reminded him of his age, of your youth, your naïveté. His chest tightened with the deep feeling of wrongness, the bitter taste of guilt like bile in the back of his throat.

“Don’t, uh, don’t remind me.” Joel mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck.

You, none the wiser to the war raging on in his mind, laughed sweetly, saluting him lazily as you finished the last of your venison jerky. “Aye, aye, captain!”

“Hey.”

“Hey!”

“Heyyyy!”

Joel’s neck snapped towards the noise, where Ellie stood still, leaning against the thick trunk of a pine tree. “Huh?”

“Dude, you were just standing there. Like a fuckin’ statue. You okay? I thought you were dying.”

Joel rubbed a scruffy cheek, the thick bristles of hair irritating his fingers as he stared into the distance, taking in a deep breath before resuming his walking. “I’m fine. Let’s jus’ keep goin’, onwards and upwards. Should be there in a day or so.”

“Whatever you say, man.” Ellie kicked a stray pebble in front of her, jogging every so often to meet the long strides of Joel.

In front of her, Joel was lost in deep thought.

He felt the ache of remorse tugging at his heart. A reminder it still worked. A reminder he was still human, still alive and breathing. A human, a man, who hoped and yearned and craved and cried. A man who loved. This remorse, this pain, this guilt, that had corroded away at his soul piece by piece, kept him stable and nailed to the ground. It was a nudge towards the idea that perhaps after all these years of killing, after the taste of blood and haze of destruction, perhaps his heart was still capable of something good, something right.

Joel thought he was right, when he did what he did. Even with the tsunami of tears threatening your eyes, even with the quivering of your lip, the tight furrow of your brows, the embarrassment on your face- even with the sheer look of pain and betrayal that you wore like a masquerade mask- Joel felt that what he did was for the best. That the line in the sand he carved with his own bare hands would help you in the end.

“Don’t look at me like that.” Joel warned, pointing a finger at you. “Don’t look at me like that, girl.”

“Why?” There was a shrill crack to your syllables, a dejected figure emerging from the shadows of your mouth. “Does it make you feel bad? Am I hurting your feelings?”

“This is worse enough as is. I don’t need you flashin’ them puppy dog eyes at me. Ain’t gonna change a thing.”

“So you just used me. Fucked my mouth until you got what you wanted. And now what, Miller? Now what? Gonna ignore me? Gonna start doin’ runs with Tess again like there was nothing between us?” Venom dripped from your incisors as you took a step towards him. Your tears, your sadness, the heavy weight of your heart had been replaced with rage. Burning hot rage. It consumed you until it was oozing from you, spilling from your eyes, your mouth, your nostrils. It was you.

“Yeah. That’s what I’m goin’ to do. ‘Cause you’re right, kid. There wasn’t shit between us.”

Ellie’s humming brought him back to reality, clearing his mind of any thoughts, before she broke the silence with a dreadful question:

“Did you ever have any girlfriends, back at the QZ in Boston?”

“Told you not to ask me any questions like that.”

“I know, I know. But it seems like things with you and…. with you and Tess were weird. I remember what she said, how she never asked you to feel what she felt.” Ellie cleared her throat, gripping ahold of the straps on her backpack. “But, you know, it got me thinking. If someone as cool as Tess liked an old fart like you, some other chicks would have had to, too. Right?”

Joel sighed a deep, tired sigh, rubbing at his temples. “Me and Tess…. we weren’t. We- just. No. Tess and I, there was nothing there.”

Ellie held her hands up in defense. “Okay, okay. Geez, no need to throw a bitch fit, asshole.”

“Watch it.” He grumbled, adjusting the strap of his rifle. “But there was one girl.”

“Really? What was she like? What was her name? What did she look like?”

“Slow down, Ellie, slow down. Way too many questions. I’ll answer one. One! So pick wisely.”

Ellie walked in silence for a moment, rubbing her cheeks in thought as though she had a beard. She nodded with a sense of finality, catching up with Joel’s long strides. “Why did you like her?”

Why did Joel like you? Why did he love you? What was so special about you that Joel, a man concrete in his stoicism, a man lost in his own selfish, distant ways, could crumble at the sheer thought of you? What was so special about your sparkling eyes that made his chest pound? What was so special about your soft voice that made his jaw slack? What was so special about your gentle touch that made his body shiver?

How could a giant such as Joel Miller come crashing down at the feet of someone like you? Someone so pure, so happy, so kind and thoughtful? How could Joel have ever let something like that happen? How could he have been such a fool?

“Hello? Earth to Joel.” Ellie waved her hand in front of Joel’s face, eliciting a groan.

“Um…” He scratched at his chin.

“When I was a little girl all I wanted, the one thing that mattered most to me in the world, was to go to the zoo. My momma used to tell me all these stories. How you could touch the stingrays, feed the giraffes… But you know what I want to see most of all? The gorillas.”

Joel was staring out the window, keeping watch as you shuffled through the drawers of the abandoned room, looking for extra stuff that could be worth smuggling. His eyes scanned the road, but he was mostly interested in listening to you. Quickly and slyly he turned to look at you.

He saw the glimmer glistening through your gaze, the smile lines crinkling ever so slightly at the corners of your eyes as your pretty lips turned up into a big grin. Your face was aglow with passion, your heart pinned proudly to your sleeve. You were the exact opposite of him when it came to that, it only drew him closer, like a moth to a flame.

“The zoo? I went to the zoo. Took my daughter all the time to the one in Austin. Never saw a gorilla though, not up close. Just on the Animal Planet.”

“Animal Planet?”

And there it was, that familiar twinge of guilt. “Yeah. It was a TV Channel.” Joel explained with a grimace, his voice soft and quiet. “You, uh, you find anything good yet?”

“Nah. Just a half empty box of condoms and some bandaids.”

“Condoms? We could use those.” Joel explained, turning to you quickly.

A look of surprise crept on to your face. You hoped you hid the butterflies erupting in your stomach well enough. Surely it was a slip of tongue, you thought- Joel was never forward like that.

Realization soon dawned on his face when his words finally settled in. “Not….. not us, I mean. For- for trading. Could get some ration cards. The, I mean- I would never be…. I- Uh.” A guttural noise of defeat escaped him as he slumped into the wall, groaning deeply against the palms of his hands that his face was now buried in. “Forget I said anything.” Joel seethed through gritted teeth.

“You sure do have a way with words, cowboy.” You teased. A beautiful laugh, one that haunted Joel, escaped your chest as you threw the box of condoms towards him. “There you go, lover boy.”

“Her laugh.” Joel finally broke the silence, his eyes secured to the track in front of him. “She was always laughing. Real happy, curious, always day dreaming. She was….”

“The exact opposite of you.” Ellie filled in, laughing to herself. “Man, she sounds great. And she liked you back?”

“I said one question a day.”

“But-”

“No buts. You can ask another one tomorrow.”

“Well, can you at least tell me her name?”

Before Joel could stop himself, the syllables of your name rolled from his tongue. He hadn’t spoken it out loud in years. He promised himself he wouldn’t, not after losing you. But it escaped him quicker than he could stop it, like a dog running from its cage, sniffing its way to freedom.

Ellie repeated it to herself. “That’s real pretty.” She hummed in approval, and Joel continued walking, his eyes stirring with the burning hot threat of tears.

Angry, regretful, bitter tears.

“Have you seen her anywhere?” Joel was pacing his room, frantically throwing supplies on to the bed. “Did she- did she say anything? Where she was going? What she was doing?”

“Joel.” Tess’ voice rang through the air. “Joel.”

“What? I need to get to her, God dammit.”

“She’s gone, Joel. Said she left four days ago. You won’t be able to find her.” Tess rested a hand on his shoulder as she sat down on the edge of the mattress, looking up at the disheveled, broken man before her.

“This is all my fault.” A single sob racked through his body as he fell down beside her. “Putting a gun to her head and pulling the trigger would have been the exact same thing. She’ll die out there, Tess.” Joel buried his face in his hands as he fell back, jaw clenching in unison with his flaring nostrils as he sat and stewed in the crashing waves of resentment. “She’s going to die, and I won’t be there to protect her.”

Teas traced her hand down the broadness of Joel’s back, taking in a sharp breath. “You’re right. Better move on now, we have work to do. If you’re going to get over it someday, you might as well do it now.” If there was one thing Tess wasn’t going to do, it was sugar coat things. Especially not for Joel fucking Miller. “So get up, stop crying, and do your fucking job. You got it?”

That night Joel drunkenly fucked Tess with her face in the pillow and ass in the air, and the whole time he imagined it was you.

Dusk was soon approaching by the time Joel had rolled out his and Ellie’s sleeping bags. The canvas of the sunset was being torn apart by sparkling stars, the moon illuminating the snow covered trees surrounding them. It was a quiet, peaceful night, shrouded with the sort of yearning and hope that only came once the sun set.

“Can we start a fire? Please, Joel?” Ellie was shivering beneath her sleeping bag, pulling her jacket tighter to her chest.

“Use my bag. I’ll take watch while you sleep.”

“We’ve been walking for like, a hundred hours. You need sleep too. Nobody will find us here. We’re in the middle of butt fuck nowhere.”

“You don’t know that. Now take my bag or stop whining.” Joel’s voice was gruff as he sat against the tree, the light of the lantern illuminating the hardness of his face.

“Okay, geez. Don’t have to be an asshole.”

“Go to sleep, Ellie.”

Joel hadn’t meant to fall asleep. He never liked sleeping, for many different reasons. The lack of control, the possibility of danger, the lurking nightmares about his past. But most of all, he hated sleeping because they brought him dreams of you.

In the beginning, when he had you, dreams of your body, or your face, of your voice- they were all welcomed. He would wake up in his mattress, bathing like a cat in the golden rays of sunshine, and would go about his day slightly less grumpy. Not a changed man, by any means, but how could a man be completely cold and detached after a visit from an angel?

But now these dreams were different. He would wake, not quite remembering them in their entirety, but always feeling the heavy burden of loss thick in his mouth, like phlegm during a nasty cold. For the rest of the day he would think of you, unable to shake the memory of your face away from his mind. You had branded him like a cow at the slaughterhouse.

Joel knew he was yours forever, always yours, despite the pitter pattering footsteps of guilt that followed him around like a needy child.

Tonight, he dreamed of his past memories with you.

“Oh, this is a good one.” Joel hummed out as he turned the record player up ever so slightly. “This is Nat King Cole. My mom used to play his stuff while she was cookin’.”

Sometimes I wonder how I spend the lonely night,

Dreaming of a song. The melody, haunts my reverie,

And I am once again with you, when our love was new.

“He’s got a nice voice.” You quipped. You swung your legs off the desk, walking towards him before extending your hand.

He looked at you like you were crazy. “What’re you doin’?”

“Dance with me.”

“Dancin’ is a dangerous game. I ain’t no good at it.”

“That doesn’t matter. Come on. Just dance with me, cowboy!” Your giggles ignited the air with sparks of comfort, warming Joel’s body through with the familiar pang of affection he so often suffered from when he was around you. He thought on it for a moment before letting out a long sigh.

“Fine. But if you tell anyone about this I’ll… I’ll…”

“You’ll what? Spank me? Come on, just live a little. If it was actually the end of the world none of us would be here. So be alive and human with me tonight, and dance.”

Joel stood, looking down at you as his hands found your body. He rested one palm against the small dip of your waist, his other finding your hand, quickly engulfing it, wrapping around your fingers like a blanket. You swayed, barely shuffling your feet, a smile of contentment washing across your face.

“See?” You hummed. “This is nice.”

He stayed silent, swaying with you to the crooning voice of Nat King Cole. Joel sucked in a sharp breath as your cheek rested against his chest. He ran his hand down to the small of your back, instinctively pulling you closer.

And now my consolation is in the stardust of a song,

Besides the garden wall when stars are bright,

You are in my arms, a paradise where roses grew

Though I dream in vain…

“Joel?” You whispered, craning your neck to look up at him.

His eyelids fluttered open, lips parting ever so softly as his eyes met yours. Chocolate irises, flashes of gold glittering within them, drunk every inch of your face up, memorizing you as thought it was the last time he’d ever see you. “Hmm?”

“Will you kiss me?” The question escaped you before you could think, your eyes slightly widening at the boldness which preceded you.

Joel stopped swaying. He looked down at you, a thumb slowly tracing across your cheekbone.

“I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me. I- I wasn’t thinking.” Your face was hot with embarrassment, and your hand on his shoulder quickly dropped.

Joel remained quiet as he gently grabbed your fallen hand, moving it back to his shoulder, up towards his face, until you were cupping his cheek. “You really want me to?” He asked softly, curiously, his thumb gently running across your lower lip. You nodded without hesitation.

He leaned forward, the curve of his nose brushing against the tip of yours as he moved both of his hands to hold your face, eyes open and staring in to yours, as though he were trying to make his way through your soul. A stabbing breath hitched in the back of your throat as you gently pressed your body to his, lips mere centimeters away.

“Joel…” You whispered softly.

He paused right before your mouth, eyes now full of remorse, wide and guilty like a petulant child who had just been caught red handed. When he spoke, you felt his moustache tickle your cupid’s bow.

“I… I can’t. I can’t do it.”

“Do you not like me?”

“That’s not the issue, darlin’. It’s the… opposite of that, actually. But I just- I… I gotta go. I’ll stop by tomorrow with some more ration cards.” Joel pulled away from your body, rushing to the door.

“Joel, wait. Joel!” But before you could stop him, he had already left. Your heard his footsteps soon disappear, left with nothing but the scratching vinyl.

In my heart, it will remain

My stardust melody

The memory of love’s refrain.

Joel awoke with a violent jerk, to the bitter smell of coffee and the bright warning of morning light.

“Wakey, wakey sleepy head. Made you some coffee!” Ellie smiled at Joel as she dug her heels into the dying fire, handing Joel the metal cup of brown liquid.

“I told you no fires, Ellie. Someone could see us.”

“It’s fine. It’ll be okay. And if anyone comes and tries to hurt us, I’ll use my super slick Ninja skills I learned on ‘em! Promise! Now drink your nasty bean juice and let’s get going.” Ellie rolled up the sleeping bags as Joel stared into space, sipping his coffee before dumping the rest of it out.

“How long was I out for?”

Ellie shrugged, walking beside him as they made their way towards the open valley. “No clue. But you were muttering to yourself. Woke me up.”

“Was I? Mutterin’ what?”

Ellie looked at him, a small, sad smile playing on her mouth. When she said your name, his stomach turned. That beautiful name. That terrible, awful name that haunted him at every corner. It crept through his mind like a ghost, in and out of the hallway of his memories, refusing to ever leave.

“Weird.” Joel finally said, after a long, thick, uncomfortable silence. “Let’s…. let’s head out now.”

An hour or so had passed, hiking through the forest towards the open valley, before Ellie realized Joel had been whistling. She had never heard him whistle before. And, like always, her curiosity got the better of her.

“What is that?” She asked.

“What’s what?” Joel answered, looking around to try and pin down what she was talking about.

“The song you’re whistling. What is it? I like it.”

“Oh.” Joel hadn’t noticed he had been making any noise. “It’s called Stardust. An old song, before my time even.”

“Who’s it by?”

“There are a few renditions, I can’t remember who did it first. My favorite version was by Nat King Cole.” Joel explained, clearing a makeshift path through the jutting branches and scratching leaves.

“I’ve got my one question, you know.” Ellie stated with a wiggle of her eyebrows. “About her.”

“M’kay. Make it quick.” His voice grumbled out lowly like an over worked furnace, eyebrows tight together as he walked ahead of her.

“Where’d she go?” Ellie finally mustered up the courage to ask the question, slowly looking at Joel’s back. She noticed how it stiffened at the question, and for a moment she regretted ever asking anything.

But Joel’s voice was uncharacteristically soft. “What do you mean?” He finally choked out, clearing his throat.

“Like, if you liked her so bad, why isn’t she with us? You’ve protected me all this way. I-… I can’t imagine the lengths you would go for someone you actually liked.” Ellie joked, trying to lighten the air, the air which had suddenly grown so chewable, so thick and stuffy.

“I don’t hate you, kid.” Joel mumbled, rubbing at his face. “She, uh, she left. While I was out doin’ a run with Tess. Just up and vanished. No note, no nothin’.”

Ellie could feel the pain radiating from Joel, although she couldn’t quite pin point it in his words. He was good at hiding things like that. You don’t spend months with a person and not pick up their habits.

“How long ago was that?” She asked quietly, softly.

“‘Bout three years before I met you.”

“That’s a long time.”

“Yeah.” Joel muttered. “Now, no more questions until tomorrow.”

“Okay.” Ellie grumbled, watching her feet as she walked.

“Joel!” His name tangled through the air, breathless and wanting. His ear was pressed to the door, hand on the door knob. Waiting. Thinking. Pondering.

Your legs were spread open, jeans halfway down your legs, panties to the side as your middle finger lazily rubbed circles in your clit, your free hand kneading against your exposed breast, chest flushed with the hot hand of want. No. Of need.

You couldn’t get the image out of your head. Slick curls pushed back, lips turned into a scowl, bulging arms chopping at the thick log of wood like it owed him something. You remember the rage swirling in his eyes, dark and angry, knitted brows tight and bold. Why was he so god damn hot when he was livid?

“Oh, God. Fuck.” Your whimpers filled his ears, well- his good ear, at least- and Joel felt his jeans beginning to tighten.

Something overtook Joel. Something primal, something instinctual, because before he had a chance to think, he was barging in to your room, mind empty with thoughts only of you, of your pleasure. You jumped with a squeal of surprise, face coated with embarrassment, grabbing a pillow to try and cover yourself up. It was a fruitless attempt, because Joel still saw exactly what he wanted to see. You.

“Joel! Oh God. Jesus Christ….. how-how much of that did you hear?” You wanted to cry. To deteriorate into a pile of rubble would have been your best option. Anything to not have to deal with his gaze. Stern, unreadable, dark. Your heart was slamming against your chest.

“I heard enough.” He whispered, slowly stepping towards you.

You blinked the forming tears of embarrassment away quickly, propping yourself up better on your elbows, finally garnering the courage to look up at him, right in his eyes. A long, deep, sensual gaze steaming from him.

Joel reached for you hesitantly, his hand gently grabbing your knee. A rough thumb traced circles into your skin, smooth and vanilla scented from the lotion he had smuggled for you on a particularly boring run. He watched the way your skin pricked with goosebumps, the way your leg leaned in to his touch. You wanted this. He knew, looking into your eyes, so soft and tender with desire, that he was the only thing on your mind.

“Please,” you whispered, voice shaking in the dimly lit room. “Please touch me, Joel.”

When he finally gathered the courage to lean forward, when those horrible thoughts of shame that so often plagued him had been pushed to the back of his mind, he heard Tess shouting his name in the distance.

When Joel saw Tommy for the first time in ages, he could barely contain himself. He embraced his little brother, tight and hard, feeling the familiar heat of tears welling in the pits of his eyes.

As dusk soon pulled across the sky, Tommy made sure to tell Joel which house would be his. “House 37! Two lefts and a right.” Tommy reminded him, as he jogged away to meet Maria.

It was only until he reached the movie theatre that Tommy realized he gave Joel the wrong number. Oh well, he thought to himself, Joel will figure it out.

The hot water cascaded down Joel’s back, steam dancing through the air, covering him in a warm blanket, the smell of vanilla body wash filling his nostrils. Vanilla. It reminded him so much of you. Of that night, the night he almost had a taste of you. You were so close, yet still managed to remain just out of reach.

Joel was so preoccupied with his thoughts of you, you, you, that he hadn’t heard the front door downstairs open.

• • •

It had been a particularly long and exhausting day for you. You had been posted a mile south in a rundown factory, keeping watch for Raiders as a group of workers focused their abilities on turning the old building into a new extension of your town.

Maria wanted to turn it in to a greenhouse and new horse stable. With the newest colt in town, Shimmer, she figured horse breeding could be a bright part of their future, and if it grew well and but enough, they could extend further out into the wilderness.

Well, that was Maria’s dream. But you had seen how slow these workers went about their business, how they often broke into fights and managed to forget their tasks entirely. How Maria had ever cultivated this place…. well, that was beyond you.

Your thoughts were full of Joel.

Joel, Joel, Joel.

He was a hard worker. Persistent and tenacious, strong and able, stern and forthright- he was everything you wanted in a man. He was just like the knights you would read about, yet he had a twinge of anti-hero that always enticed you, always pulled you in closer.

Thinking about Joel was always draining. You missed his laugh, gritty and low and never that frequent. You missed his hands, well worked and scarred. You missed his eyes, deep and mysterious and full of something that you could never quite pin point.

After these long day dreams with him at the forefront, it left you craving a life you had never gotten to live with him, a life you had never known.

By the time you reached your house it was dark, and your feet ached from the long trek. You felt much older than you actually were. Taking your boots off, you noticed the hallway light upstairs was on.

“Weird.” You whispered to yourself, ultimately shrugging it off as you switched it off, walking to your room.

The door was shut. Double weird. You lived alone, and almost always forgot to shut your door.

The bathroom door was ajar, and you saw steam swirling out of it, yet the shower was off.

“Okay, what the fuck.” You hissed, reaching for your knife. You had already turned your gun in. Hand to hand combat…. well, that would have to do, even if it wasn’t your strong suit.

Behind the closed door of your master suite, you hear someone opening up drawers. “God dammit, Tommy!” You heard a muffled snarl, and your eyes widened.

You dropped the knife, clattering against the carpet with a faint cling, as you brought your hands to your head. No. No. This wasn’t happening. It couldn’t be him. Surely not.

You rarely spoke to Tommy. You heard he had a brother named Joel here and there, but you never asked. Never gave any part of yourself away. To the people of Jackson City, you were quiet and reserved- kind, always- but haunted by something.

No, by someone.

Your hand was shaking. The metal door knob was cold on your palm, shivers coursing straight down your spine. With a quivering lip, you barely had time to turn the handle before the door flung open, thoughts of self defense and protection miles away.

A figure, huffing with annoyance, stood in front of you. A white shirt stretched taut against a broad chest, sweatpants hanging on a low waist, a bundle of dirty clothes resting in his arm. His arm. His familiar, tanned, muscular arm.

Joel.

Joel. Joel.

The syllable rolled around your brain, head empty as you gathered the courage to slowly look up at the man. His eyes were wide, lips parted in surprise as he stared at you. Both of you stood, in the midst of a proper western stand off, the air stagnant around your bodies.

Neither of you said a word. How could you? What was there to say? You blinked rapidly, rubbing at your eyelids in an attempt to spook the apparition of Joel Miller away. Surely it was a ghost. Perhaps you were finally losing your mind. Perhaps the end of the world had caught up with you.

You went to speak, but a gargled mess of noises were all you could come up with.

Before you had a chance to correct yourself, he had scooped you up in to the tightest hug of your life.

Joel’s left arm was wrapped around your waist, pressing you close to his chest, while his right laid across your back, his large hand pressed into the back of your head. You grasped ahold of him, fingers digging into his skin as you tried to make sense of what was going on.

Before you could catch them, tears were flowing from your eyes, staining his shirt with a puddle of wimpy cries.

“Shh.” He cooed, voice shaking. “I’m right here. I’m here.” Joel held you as though you would vanish if he let go, slowly falling to the floor with you tightly pressed to him. He cradled you in his lap, strong arms secure and steadfast around your body. Joel wasn’t planning on letting go anytime soon.

When you finally looked up, you saw his own cheeks west with the ghosts of previous tears.

“Oh.” You whimpered, touching his face gingerly. “I haven’t seen this face in so long. Look at you.”

“Look at you.” He countered, thumb tracing down the apple of your cheek. “You’ve only grown more beautiful.”

“How… are you…. you’re the Joel Tommy mentioned? How could I have been so stupid.” You whispered, shaking your head.

“How long have you been here?”

“Two years. Managed to find a group of mercs, travelled with them to Kansas City before FEDRA got ahold of them. I was the only one to escape and, somehow, I found myself in this place.” You explained, his face now cupped in your hands.

His lips looked so tantalizing. The thing you wanted most in this world, right in this moment, was for Joel to kiss you. Hard. Deep. Passionately.

Joel looked down at you. He knew that look. Knew those emotions in your eyes, knew the way you looked when desire overtook your being.

He was so tired of being scared, so tired of the shame and guilt that followed him like smoke.

“Can I kiss you?” He finally asked, taking a thick gulp.

You nodded slowly. “Kiss me.”

And he did. It was just as you had always imagined. Soft and sweet, deep and passionate. Your mouths molded together as though they were two puzzle pieces created for each other. It felt right. It felt good. It felt…. perfect. The way you had dreamed it would.

You shifted in his lap so you were straddling him, arms thrown around his neck as you beckoned him closer, his palms pressed firmly into your sides as he held you in place. You both knew you weren’t going anywhere.

You parted your lips as his hungry tongue swept against you, gently exploring your mouth, tasting your spit, the minty residue of your now thrown away gun mixing with his mouth. Joel groaned as you shuffled, and you felt the bulge in his sweatpants where his cock was getting harder and bigger.

You had seen his dick before. Once. When you both stumbled to your room drunk and you had given him a blowjob. The best blowjob of his life, as Joel remembered. He had held you by the hair, barely touching you except a gentle brush of his hand down your cheek after he had finished down your throat. You remembered how his eyes had engulfed you, how you watched as he seared the image of you on your knees into the recesses of his memory.

That was the closest you two had ever got, the farthest he had ever dared to go. And even then, it was selfish of him. He went to bed under the heavy blanket of ignominy, and he swore he would never do it again. He was drunk, Joel assured himself, it wasn’t like he….. loved you or anything. Right?

But now, with his tongue searching your throat and his hungry hands feeling their way around his skin, with the way your clothed bodies moved in harmony against the scratchy carpet of the hallway floor, what else could it be? Lust? No. Lust doesn’t last like this. It sizzles away at the prospect of someone new. No, no. You both knew what it was. Love. But you both too fearful to admit it.

“Joel.” You whispered against his mouth. He opened his eyes at the sound of his name, the way it so sweetly rolled off your tongue.

“Yes?”

“Take me to bed.” Your words stuttered against themselves as you took in a heavy heave of breath. “Take me to bed… and make me yours.”

Joel swallowed the tight lump dangling at the back of his throat. He had two options. One, say no and push you away. Two, give in to his deepest desires and fall further into this love he had tried so hard to forget.

The last time he chose one, you ran half way across the country.

He was a smart man, Joel. He knew exactly which one to pick. No more would he run.

He scooped you up into his arms wordlessly, carrying you to your neatly made bed. Your hair splayed across the white pillows, your doe eyes staring up at him, full of yearning, full of want.

You watched with hawk-like eyes as he slid his shirt off, moving to do the same before Joel stopped you.

“No. I want to undress you myself.” You swallowed thickly at his command, nodding as your neck grew hot with desire.

When Joel was left with nothing but his boxers on, you drunk his image in. A small tuff of hair rested above the hem of his underwear. His belly was soft, and stray curls of hair dotted across his broad chest. His shoulders were strong, broad, welcoming.

You looked up into his face, eyelashes fluttering.

He had a few more wrinkles, a lot more gray in his hair. There were a few more scars etched into his skin, a darker tint to his eyes. He had aged. But so had you.

You had always liked your men older, anyways.

Joel Miller was the man of your fucking dreams, and he was standing nearly naked in front of you.

“Up.” He motioned for you to sit up and you did without hesitation. A smile crossed his mouth as he cupped your cheek. “So good for me.” Joel murmured, slowly peeling your shirt off.

“For you.” You whispered with finality.

He nodded, eyes twinkling with….. happiness. Joel worked the lace of the leather boots you wore, carefully pulling them off your feet before sliding his hands towards the zipper of your jeans. He watched your face as he slowly unbuttoned them, stripping them from your legs. He watched the way your lips parted with desire, the way your eyelids shut as the feeling of his hands grazing your skin.

“Look at you.” Joel whispered, and you met his steaming gaze. “So beautiful.” He learned forward, pressing a kiss to the hem of your underwear. “Lay back for me, honey.”

You did as you were told, shivering as his warm hands pried your legs apart. He stared at your clothed pussy, the patch of wetness showcasing your arousal. Joel chewed on his cheek as he drunk the image in, taking in a sharp breath as he discarded your underwear.

And there you finally were. Open and exposed, laid bare for him, and only him. Joel slid down on his stomach, inching his way towards your cunt as he reached forwards, using his thumb to slowly trace down your outer lips.

You shuddered, taking in a deep breath of as your hands snaked to his head, running your fingers through his thick curls, watching his finger slowly move. You saw him spread you open, you pink, wet pussy on display for his searing gaze.

“Ain’t that a sight.” He hummed out. “This all for me?” His voice was smug. He knew. And you knew he knew.

“All for you.” You admitted, pushing a stray curl out of his eyes.

“Bet you taste real nice, too.” Joel leaned forward, extending his tongue as he swept it flat across your clit. This made you whimper out, your grip on his hair tightening. “Just as I thought. Sweetest thing I ever had.”

Your head fell back onto the pillows as he wrapped this lips around your swelling clit, sucking softly at the button. He was holding back, his movements teasingly gentle. You were squirming for him, nails digging into his scalp, your breath begging for me.

Joel pulled back, much to your dismay, and rubbed his middle finger against your entrance. He slowly pushed it in, grunting quietly.

“God, you’re so fuckin’ tight, honey. Can’t wait to feel you stretched against my cock.”

“Oh, God. Joel, please.” You murmured, watching as he resumed his tongue against your clit, swirling and flicking. Your thighs were shaking on his shoulders, where you hadn’t even realized you had propped them up.

Joel chuckled against your pussy, savoring the sweetness of your arousal, letting it coat his tongue like sugar. He lapped at your clit, middle finger slowly hitting up against that spot, coaxing you closer towards an orgasm.

“If-if you don’t stop Joel, I-I’m gonna cum.”

“Babydoll, that’s what I want.” He responded smugly, sucking harder at your clit.

“B-but I want to cum on your cock. I-I’ll be too sensitive.” You explained, hips grinding as your fingers pulled at his curls even more.

“We’ll see about that.”

Joel added his ring finger into your pussy, pushing and pumping into you, wanton noises of filth filling your ears. You cried out his name, right on the brink of orgasm, as Joel continued his same movements, never daring to stray or pause.

“Joel. Joel! Oh, fuck. Joel. God dammit. Joel, I’m cumming!” You were sure the whole neighborhood could heard but you weren’t half fussed about that at the moment. All you knew was his mouth was drawing you in to the most earth shattering orgasm of your life.

Tears pricked your eyes as he rode out your climax, his mouth never leaving your clit. His fingers slowed down to a halt, yet his mouth never left your cunt.

You whimpered, trying to push him away from your sensitive pussy, but Joel didn’t let up. He grabbed your thighs, relishing in your moans as he made sure to lick up every drop of your cum, every inch of your wetness. He wanted the flavor of your pussy to be stuck in his mouth for the rest of his life.

You collapsed onto the bed as he slowly pulled away, leaving a hot kiss to each thigh.

“Was that nice?” Joel asked smugly, wiping off his mouth with the back of his hand.

“Shut up, asshole.” You teased, a soft laugh escaping you. “Oh.” You murmured to yourself once you saw the bulge tenting at his boxers. You reached forward, gently grabbing it with your small hand. “Looks like we should do something about this.”

Joel hissed in a sharp breath of air, watching with intent as you tugged off his boxers. He kicked them off, his thick cock slapping against his stomach. He was thick, long, sexy- his cock could have been in a porn magazine, to be frank.

“Yeah, we should do somethin’ ‘bout this.” He had climbed on top of you, hands cupping your head as you glanced up at him with a tantalizing look stuck deep in your eyes.

“Yeah, we should. Fuck me, cowboy.” You whispered, resting your hands on his cheek. “Fuck me like you missed me.”

“I did miss you.” Joel admitted, almost shyly.

“I know.” You ran your hand through his hair, feeling the tip of his cock at your entrance. You sucked in a soft breath of air as he slowly began filling you up, allowing you the time to grow accustomed to the way he felt inside you.

“‘Course you do.” He snorted through gritted teeth, filling you completely up to the hilt.

You groaned softly, wrapping your arms around him as you held him to your chest, smiling up at him softly. “Feels so good.”

Joel buried his face in your neck, slowly moving his hips. “You’re so fuckin’ tight. So fuckin’…. so fuckin’ good for me. A god damned dream.” His words were hot, guttural, melding in to your skin like paint on a canvas.

You shuddered, dragging your nails down the length of his back, resting them on his ass. His movements grew harder, wilder, every inch of his throbbing cock deep within your walls.

“Christ, Joel.”

He groaned against you, propping himself up on his palms to watch your face. His nose brushed against yours as he leaned forward, lips pressing to yours in a burning kiss, igniting your body aflame.

“Love how you say my name.” He whispered as he pulled away from your mouth.

“Joel.” You mumbled, a teasing grin cascading on to your face:

With a smile of his own, Joel’s hand traced across your neck, down your shoulders, fingers tickling the skin of your arm before he reached your hand. Joel held it in his own, lacing your fingers tightly within his, thumb brushing over your knuckles.

His thrusts were steadier now that your eyes were on each others, hand held tightly in his own as he took the feeling of you in. The way your pussy clenched around him, the way your body felt tight on his. He pulled away from you, sitting back a bit as he held your hips, fucking himself in to you.

“Touch your clit.” He ordered, eyes darkening. You swallowed, lowering your hand to your pussy, where you did as you were told. You shivered. “Rub it.” He whispered, voice soft.

You rubbed it, your middle finger circling your swollen clit tenderly.

“You’re going to cum one more time for me. Okay?”

You nodded obediently, gently placing your free hand on to his arm. “Okay.” Your voice was sweet, angelic. It made Joel’s cock twitch, an animalistic grunt soon following.

He looked on with hungry eyes as you played with your pussy, stretching it out for him. You both watched the way his cock filled you up, the way the lips of your pussy strained against him. You whimpered at the sight, wondering how something so big could even possibly fit inside you.

You resumed your masturbation, fingering at your clit as he pumped in to you.

“That’s a good girl, rubbing your clit for me. Such a good fuckin’ girl.” He murmured, eyes glossed over with desire.

“Gonna cum for you again.” You warned, hips bucking.

“Yeah? Cum on my cock, honey. Paint it with your pretty cum.”

That’s all it took to send you over the edge. Your back arched off the mattress as your second orgasm washed over you, vision blurring white. Joel grabbed ahold of you and pulled you up, legs wrapping around his waist as he held you, pumping up into you as you shivered and shuttered against him. You chanted his name like a mantra, crying out against him.

You were eye level now, and Joel has you by the jaw, forcing your eyes to meet his.

“I’m gonna cum inside you. Gonna fill this little pussy up.” He whispered, forehead resting against yours.

“Cum inside me.” You begged, hands moving to his shoulders as he fucked your body on to his cock.

Joel groaned, primal noises filtering out as his dick convulsed inside of you, his hot cum painting the inside of your cunt. You moaned at the feeling of being properly full, grinding against him gently as you sat on his lap, your arms holding each other close and tight.

When his orgasm had subsided and you both fell against the soft mattress, you were still entangled with one another, his dick still stuffed inside you.

You stared at one another as though you had never known anyone else, eyes searching, reaching for the soul, sparkling with love, swimming with adoration.

His fingers traced down your back, resting on your thigh as he brought you closer.

“I’m sorry I left.” You whispered, your hand resting on the side of his neck. “I… I didn’t know what to do with all of it.”

“All of what?” Joel asked, voice deep and quiet.

“All of the love I had for you.” You sniffled, nuzzling your cheek into his. “Have.” You corrected.

“Have?” A smirk was tugging at his voice.

You took in a deep breath, bravely nodding your head. “Have. I…. you know I do.”

Joel rested his head against yours, looking down at you. “I’ve always known.”

A moment of silence fell over your bodies.

“I don’t think it’s goin’ anywhere, either.”

“Good.” Joel whispered, his dark eyes meeting yours. “I want it. All of it. ‘Til the day I die.”

“It’s yours, Joel. Always yours.”