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escarlatellie · 1 year

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here with you ; ellie williams. (4.5k.)

⤿ f!reader, college!au, drinking + kissing, fluff fluff fluff <3 lowercase is on purpose , was blasting ceilings by lizzy so excuse the title

⤿ you're invited to another one of dina's off-campus parties not long after finals, where you meet a pretty girl who miraculously knows your name. away from the hustle of the actual party, where people are plastered out of their minds and making a ruckus, you and this pretty stranger get to know each other a little and earn yourselves a place in the other's heart.

“if you want anything just let me know, okay?”

dina’s hand is warm, splayed across your lower back as she guides you away from what had to be the noisiest place at the party. it’s no surprise she attracts such diverse groups of people, given her gregarious personality and hard-to-overlook kind of beauty.

you would be lying if you said you hadn’t had a crush on her when you first met her; it’s dina, how could you not? thankfully, over maybe a year of getting to know her, you realized she wasn’t exactly your type and that she was far too head-over-heels for her on-and-off partner to even think about you. honestly, she never shut up about the guy.

“got it. thanks, dina.”

you definitely were not going to mention the almost completely assured possibility that you wouldn’t see her at all for the rest of the night. thing is, when you’re the host of parties like these, you tend to get thrown around a lot. though she doesn’t really seem to mind, since this is, at the very least, the fourth party you’ve been invited to since finals ended (which was around a month ago).

she hums passively at the acknowledgement, then gestures fluidly towards the rest of the room. there are a few people situated on her couch, a couple of them already putting on a show for the others while a few sit alone, sipping their drinks with reckless abandon. you’ve never gotten completely plastered at one of dina’s parties, always the type to stay back and help her clean up if she hasn’t passed out or gotten herself sick, but unsurprisingly, there are always those who’ll take any chance they can get.

“mi casa, su casa.” she sings, then she’s gone.

left alone, you can handle yourself. why the hell would you come here if you couldn’t? you head towards what you remember to be the kitchen, but right now looks like a completely unprofessional bar complete with its own bartender—who you belatedly recognize to be jesse, dina’s on-and-off partner—in search of booze.

said bartender nods at you when you catch his eye, pouring whatever’s on the table for tonight into a very typically red party cup—on the house, since you get special privilege—and sliding it over to the edge of the counter. whatever’s inside sloshes dangerously, threatening a mess which’d only add to the ugly stickiness of dina’s countertops, but you grab and take a whiff of it before it can tip over.

“what, don’t trust me?” jesse ribs over the music—he speaks of your tentative sniff—, which is, as you’ve just realized, getting progressively louder.

“if i say anything,” you mutter, which gets you his typical jesus christ, these people, kind of laugh and he leans back against the counter, right next to you.

head crooked to the side slightly, you look him over. objectively, you can see why he and dina mesh so well; they’re both unbelievably attractive and complement each other’s personalities perfectly (from what you’ve seen, at the very least). their pretty much daily arguments aside, you can tell they love each other and only want the best for one another. that said, you can only imagine what’s running through his head right now.

“she’s not going to get shit-faced drunk,” he mutters, and that’s your cue to leave. you know he’s trying to console himself more than anything.

“no, she’s not.”, you respond in kind, patting his shoulder with just as much care as one would handle a two-hundred-pound gorilla, before pushing yourself up off the edge of the counter and walking out of the kitchen. god knows he could spend an hour sitting there talking about her; you’ve had enough of that for, quite literally, the rest of your life.

the sole of your left shoe sticks to the ground a little as you walk, and you thank your past self for owning a strictly-for-parties pair of converse which were, sadly, a little too worn in for your own good. sneaking a glance into the main hall, you catch a glimpse of your best friend seated halfway up the stairs chatting with someone—maybe a senior? junior, at the very least—who’s got a guitar case slung over her shoulder and the most unruly head of short, auburn hair you’ve ever seen.

dina’s gesturing wildly at the front door, likely having gotten into an argument with said stranger (except it looks far too fond to be serious), when the two of you make eye contact. her eyes are a strikingly pale kind of green, piercing through whatever weak defenses you’d put up for the night in a very relaxed fashion. she’s got this look on her face that screams uninterested, which is quickly swapped out for a look of rapt attention at your own once she realizes you don’t actually plan on looking away.

because man, she’s hot.

it’s just then that a presumably tanked freshman crashes into you and spills the contents of whatever it is they were drinking all over you, effectively shattering whatever that was. really, you would be grateful for it—something to spare you the embarrassment of looking too interested in someone way out of your league—had there not been the undeniable presence of cool, once-iced liquor spilling down the front of your printed tee.

“oh, fuck,” you curse, nearly missing their hurried apology before they barrel out the front door.

this wouldn’t be the first time. you sigh, reluctantly slipping away from all the noise, away from the pretty stranger, to deal with your problem. usually, you’d have an extra top shoved haphazardly into dina’s closet, something you could throw on in the worst-case scenario, but laundry day was just yesterday and all of your stuff was piled on your bed back home. already you could feel the liquor causing the shirt’s fabric to stick, leaving an icky, gross feeling that was begging to be cleaned up. the humidity from everyone’s breathing was not helping.

you set your cup down on a random table (never to be seen again) as you make your way to the bathroom. you wouldn’t be surprised to find the door locked, having been an unsuspecting party crasher one too many times in your first and some of your second year, but luckily the room’s unoccupied—not for long—and you slip in and lock the door behind you after waving off a concerned glance from jesse, who’s very slowly making his way to his girlfriend. no surprise there.

“oookay, fuck.” you curse, flipping the light switch and nabbing a couple (a lot) of the mini towels out of dina’s probably way-too-expensive towel rack and pressing them to your front, hoping they’ll soak up some of the leftover moisture, at least save you from the mortification of showcasing to everyone your chest and abdomen.

it doesn’t really help.

again, not an irregular occurrence, so you’re not too worried; dina’s typical party etiquette has ensured that everyone here will leave you be and mind their own business. that doesn’t help your pride, but you concede to stepping back out and flipping the light switch off behind you as you make your way to the front.

this time, when you cross the main hall, dina’s gone and so is her friend. accompanying disappointment comes the ponderance of whether jesse found dina or not and if the pretty stranger has left, but you remind yourself you’ll find out later—probably near midnight when people start to filter out for the night and you’re tasked with cleaning up—, however frustrated that makes you, given the fact you’d lost a chance you probably never had in the first place.

you pass a group of what look like sophomores playing beer pong against seniors—or maybe even graduates?—on your way out, and silently curse the growing pool of booze dripping on the floor right next to the table on your way outside.

the door is wide open, so being engulfed in cold air on your way outside is no surprise. luckily, the weather is calming down a little after a gruelling winter, so there’re only a couple of piles of leftover snow and the breeze doesn’t serve as an immediate freezer. however, your damp tee is anything but a savior and causes an eruption of a ton of goosebumps across the pane of your chest, stretching as far as your shoulders, which are only covered by the loose fabric of your top.

you’re not sure what you expect to see when you turn the corner to dina’s garage, but seeing her and her boyfriend sucking face is absolutely not it. dina’s got him pressed right up against the garage door, and you’re pretty sure that if jesse weren’t sober out of his mind he’d be giving into every single one of her wordless demands.

you slip past easily, far away enough to go by soundlessly and completely bypass the two’s freaky-ass sixth sense. the back gate is just as well-managed as the rest of the house and opens quietly, in no contrast to the backyard itself, which is empty and well-kempt. you know only you and a select few people are actually allowed into dina and her parents’ pretty backyard, so peace is expected and welcomed. the breeze is also blocked by the house, which is nice.

there are a couple of flowers blooming already, and their scent wafts through the air, bringing a natural sort of calm. the yard is illuminated by the house—light dances in beautiful patterns against the greens and greys that make up the garden—, but so is the relaxed silhouette of the same pretty stranger you saw less than ten minutes ago. this time, she’s hunched over in one of dina’s ugly bright-green lawn chairs with a guitar seated in her lap.

you consider her privacy and the fact that maybe she doesn’t want company right now or that she’s too busy with her music as you make your way over—aside from those ugly lawn chairs, really, there’s nowhere else to sit—but then banish your hesitancy with the acknowledgement that this is just as much a space for you as it is for her.

the chair scrapes against the patio as you pull it out, just far away enough from the brunette to make yourself seem open and friendly, but respectful of her space. you worry the cheap plastic is going to snap beneath your weight as you sit down, but it holds well and serves as a final, much-needed resting spot for your already sore feet. once your rustling stops, you hear the gentle strum of a guitar and realize the girl hasn’t stopped playing.

you relax further into your seat.

closer up now, you have the chance to really look at her. her hair’s pulled back now, half-up half-down, a lot less dishevelled than she’d been when you’d last seen her.

looking lower, she’s wearing a low-cut short-sleeve and an unbuttoned flannel long-sleeve. skin-tight, ripped jeans line what look like toned thighs and spread legs, stained black and white converse completing the look. her fingers move deftly between frets, over strings, and you just barely catch the edges of a black and white tattoo peeking out from beneath her sleeve. she’s got really nice hands, you think, just as pretty as her face.

“i can feel you fuckin’ staring.”

her tone is accusing, but not necessarily malicious or irritated; she doesn’t even look up at you when she says it, adjusting her guitar in her lap as she works at whatever she’s trying to play. her voice suits her, too, you think, and shift a little where you sit at the thought.

“sorry. you’re really good at guitar.” you mutter, earning an amused chortle from the girl across from you. it’s a pathetic excuse—you’re well aware of your own unsubtlety—but there was something there, something between you two, not long ago, and you’re not just going to let it slip away. the alcohol’s got you pleasantly buzzed, and you’re sure that if you were a little soberer, you’d be embarrassed.

“you think so?”

she looks up now, a brow raised. you catch the slit in her right eyebrow, cocked slightly as her gaze rakes over you. she’s got this lilt to her voice that feels like it means trouble, however, it does nothing but pique your interest a little more.

your response of “mhm. you play real nice.” earns you another glance over.

“i’ve seen you around a couple times. you’re a friend of dina’s, right?” she questions, looking between you and her instrument as she tunes what she seems to think is an out-of-tune string. her leg—the one which has the least contact with her guitar—bounces gently against the patio floor, and it takes you a second to realize she’s seen you around before and remembers you.

“yeah. best friend? i think? she likes to call it that.”, you joke, shoulders trembling slightly at the very unwelcome entrance of another breeze, carrying in the temperature from the front into the back. the sound of the stranger’s laugh is already addicting, especially when it feels genuine. that’s sometimes hard to come across, and you’re already starved for it even though you’ve been speaking to this girl for like, a minute.

“i’ll tell her you said that. shouldn’t she have an extra top for you or something?”

“she does, usually. kinda forgot to leave a couple here.” you hum, pointedly ignoring the third glance over the girl’s given you since she’d first laid her eyes on you. her lips are pursed slightly, gaze trained wholly on your face whenever you speak yet it wanders when silence stretches between you two. her eyes are locked on something behind your head when she speaks again.

“are you two a..?”

“thing? no, have you met jesse?”

“dina’s got a ton of other people that aren’t jesse, babe.”

your cheeks warm at the pet name, and you realize she’s right. dina’s had a couple of other flings outside of jesse; every time the two of them break up, she runs off to someone else before realizing she doesn’t want anyone but him. then, suddenly, without your permission, your mind wanders at the idea of someone wanting you the same way those two want each other.

“no, we’re not,” you shake your head as she looks back at you. briefly, so momentarily, you question whether she actually likes girls or not—and if it seems like you do—so add a quick and easy-sounding, “think i liked her a year or so back, though.”

the stranger nods, and you’re suddenly hit with the fact that you don’t know her name.

caught in your own head, you don’t register her leaning back in her seat, guitar following her movements, pressed right up against her abdomen. you do though, notice her shrugging her long sleeve off and balling it up in her free hand before it's carelessly thrown your way. your rapt attention towards her movement is pretty much the only reason you were able to catch it; it’s warm from her own body heat in your cold hands. it’s pretty obvious what she wants you to do with it, but you wouldn’t want to impose so you just stare at it.

“put on the damn sweater. it’s cold.”, she mutters, and you can’t help but bite back a smile at her tone; what was likely intended to come across as gruff and demanding sounds pleading and mildly concerned. you unravel the garment and pull your arms through the sleeves, a clean, earthy scent enveloping your once-shivering form.

“thanks, uh..”

“ellie. williams. ellie williams.” she stutters out, which is pretty cute.

“ellie. thank you.”

that only gets you a grumble of acknowledgement before she’s back to her guitar. strands of her hair are slowly slipping out of her half-updo, and it only makes her that much more alluring. you’re well aware of the fact that you’re staring again, but she doesn’t seem to mind all that much as she starts up another tune. this one sounds far too smooth, too practiced to be something she even needs to go over, and belatedly you wonder if she’s trying to impress you.

you two sit together quietly for god knows how long, accustoming yourselves to the other’s presence with ellie’s music writing over any awkward silence, and you drown in the admission that you could sit like this forever. the party inside is dying down, with a good chunk of attendees deciding to turn in early while the rest are either still on adrenaline highs or settling down for a couple of drinking games.

“where’d you learn how to play?”

you find yourself speaking before you can even think about it, and she doesn’t give you room to regret the interruption with the soft, loving little smile that breaks out on her face when she considers your question.

“old guy. his name’s joel.”

you can’t help but smile at that; whatever harsh exterior she’s going for really isn’t working for her right now. almost every time she’s spoken to you, it’s either been with a smile, a laugh, or some poorly-concealed interest. joel, you think, taking that name and storing it for later, if there ever is a later with this girl. ellie.

“his guitar, then.” you hum, because it can’t be that much of a secret if a signature that deeply resembles his name is etched into a spot just above the pickguard. “you mind teaching me someday?”, you add, because there won’t ever be a moment where you don’t want to be talking to ellie; what you aren’t expecting is for her to look up at you with the same fond look that she’d looked at her guitar with just moments before, and nod. christ, you think, she’s so..

“we can start today, if you wanna.” she offers, and you try your very best not to seem too eager when you say yeah, for sure, but realize you’ve failed and that the pretty stranger–pretty girl sitting across from you doesn’t really care. she’s taking her guitar off her lap and making her way over to you before you can even second-guess yourself, crouching in front of you and raising an inquisitive eyebrow on her undeniably attractive, stupid fucking face.

you kind of want to kiss her.

you’re already imagining a future where you and ellie are, at the very least, friends—if not more, but you don’t want to get your hopes up—and are out like this every day, hanging out, being comfortable in each other’s presence because there’s no way this feeling of security is normal with someone you’ve just met unless you’re soulmates of some kind.

ellie makes a gesture, lifts her arms as a means of telling you to lift your own, and you swear its the most adorable thing you’ve ever seen. you lift yours and her hand snakes its way forward, pressing against your right shoulder so you’ll lean back a little. she’s strong, you can tell that much—as if the muscle lining every inch of her visible skin wasn’t enough—, and her touch is searing hot, leaving fire in its wake.

she sets the guitar in your lap, spreads your legs gently by the knees, and waits expectantly with her hands out for you to offer up your own. you find yourself staring as she takes your hands, lithe, strong fingers beneath your own, lips parted slightly in both concentration and excitement as she positions your left hand under the neck, fingers splayed just slightly against the frets. she realizes you already have your other arm around the body, but reaches over to ghost her fingertips against the skin of your elbow anyways.

she smiles. “try it. use your thumb. don’t break my guitar.”

the look you give her prompts another huff of laughter, but she seems to have enough faith in you to believe you won’t. it doesn’t seem like she plans on moving, though, since she’s still crouched in front of you and when you mutter a retributive “it’s joel’s,”, the pretty girl in front of you leans forward and rests her open palms on your knees, effectively cutting off any sly remarks.

you’re probably never going to forget the way her eyes light up when you strum it the first time, and use your very limited guitar-playing knowledge to press against a couple of the frets in succession and play what sounds like a semi-well-practiced harmony.

“holy shit,” she breathes, and you find yourself feeling bashful regardless of the fact you were only, like, thirty percent sure you could pull that off again. however, you manage to contain any sighs of relief and only exhale a chuckle in response.

her eyes are still on you, you know, and you start absentmindedly fidgeting with the neck and its frets; her attention is everything you could’ve ever wanted, but her gaze is weighed and it’s making you feel a little self-conscious. you’re not starved for it by any means but it has been a while since someone has stared at you like this, awestruck out of their mind. it’s funny because for some reason ellie’s making this seem like such a huge deal when she’d spent the past, what—you’ve lost track of time—thirty minutes? an hour? playing a bunch of fucking songs on this old guy’s guitar, and—

“i had no idea you could play guitar..”

her voice tears you out of your own head, and suddenly she’s closer to you than she has been all night. you lock eyes when she mutters your name, alarmed at the fact she knows it—you reason that she knows dina and you must’ve been mentioned in passing at least a couple of times—, and feel chills go down your spine, butterflies erupting in your stomach. i definitely want to kiss her.

“i can’t,” you huff, desperate to ease out the tension, “you outplay me by—”

“can i kiss you?”

her cut-off is abrupt and unexpected, and you swear your heart has never stopped like this. it’s such an innocent question, a plea of consent laced with insecurity, something the girl you’d seen in the main hall earlier into the night hadn’t even seemed like she possessed, but it’s so inherently ellie you don’t know what to do with yourself. so you nod. a quick tilt to your chin, up and down; you can’t trust your voice to work well enough for a yes.

but ellie needs to hear it.

“say yes. i gotta hear you say it.”

you stare at her, and she stares back. the need to actually kiss her is growing unbearable now that you know she wants it too, but the mortification of knowing this pretty girl could hear the desperation in your voice—you haven’t even tuned into the fact that she sounds just as desperate as you—, the hitch of your breathing if you were to say yes, makes it hard to voice what you want.

so you don’t. she’s close enough, hands having slid upwards, her sweaty palms against your thighs in a subconsciously innocent gesture; any stray hair’s been tucked messily behind her ear, her lips are a little chapped and you see her throat constrict in a swallow when you reach forward with your right hand and thread your fingertips through the hair at the base of her neck.

and when you lean forward—as much as you can, with the guitar situated between the two of you—, ellie meets you halfway, semi-pulled in by your touch and mostly leaned in of her own accord.

it’s a kiss. just that, a gentle press of the lips, but the glorification fiction has given it hasn’t been for nothing. maybe it’s just because it wasn’t with the right person, but you’re far from unfamiliar with it and it’s never felt like this. ellie kisses like she never wants to stop and you’re not complaining. you feel her grip tighten around your thighs, and you’re already running out of air even though you’ve only been doing this for a couple seconds. when you part, it’s with an unspoken promise of more.

“i’ve seen you around,” ellie starts, whispering against your lips. it sounds like a confession, something she needs to get off her chest, so you urge her to continue with your silence and the gentle circling of your thumb against her scalp. “with dina. or jesse. on campus. during those stupid presentations. or the social events. and i’ve always wanted to talk to you, you know? especially that one time, when you,” she inhales, smoothing her hands out against your legs. “when you corrected jesse on a fucking dinosaur name at the group’s museum outing.”

you stare at her, shuffling through images of every event you’ve ever gone to for dina’s sake when it hits you. a couple months back, before finals, probably when dina and jesse had gotten back together after a huge blowup, she’d found some stupid exhibit at a museum close to campus and presented it to you. she’d asked if you thought it was a good deal, especially because her friend, ellie, liked dinosaurs, and fuck, what is wrong with you?

“shit, you remember that?”

her silence is enough of an answer, gaze flitting between your eyes and lips nervously.

“oh my god,” you exhale, keeping her still with the hand you have around her neck as you press your foreheads together. to think, if you’d been a little less ignorant at the time, you could’ve already known ellie. the two of you could have been friends, possibly more—which now, doesn’t seem all that ridiculous—, had you tuned in a little more to what dina was saying, had paid more attention to the rest of dina’s group when you’d gone out with her, had asked simply, back then, who’s ellie?

“is that weird? tell me that’s not weird. i kinda feel like a creep now, fuck. i swear i wasn’t, like, stalking you or anything,” ellie starts rambling, something you doubt you’ll ever get tired of.

“you said you’ve seen me around a couple times. are you a creep?”, you tease.

“no! i mean, no. i just kinda, i only heard about you and saw you that time, and, shit–”

you smile at her, let her go on as you lean further over the guitar, left hand reaching out to tuck a couple strands of her unruly hair behind her right ear, effectively cutting her off without saying a word. this awestruck look on her face is something you really, really want to get used to, and the feeling of her breath ghosting over your lips is far more welcome than anything else will ever be.

“god, i wanna kiss you again.”

“do it.” you hum, and then ellie’s lips are on yours again and you swear this pretty stranger with the auburn hair is going to be the death of you.

#ellie williams x reader #ellie williams drabble #ellie williams blurb #ellie williams prompt #ellie x fem reader #ellie x reader #tlou x reader #tlou2 x reader #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams x you #ellie williams x y/n #ellie williams #ellie williams fanfic #ellie williams fluff #tlou ellie #college au

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terracottakore · 10 months

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false and ren in the last of us!!!

week two of @shepscapades hermit design challenge!

additionally: a wip i'll probably never finish :')

#shepshermitdesign23 #you guys dont understand how obsessed i am with tlou #this week's prompts are perfect i loved drawing this #had fun channeling the 2013 era skinny-jeans-fashion into these designs #rendog #falsesymmetry #hermitcraft #terracottaart

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hatosaur · 10 months

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idea: bby dina & talia? 🥺

lil ranch kiddos :)

from the photo of talia and dina in the game, dina looks about 10-12 and talia looks like 15-17 so i think they have roughly a 5 year age difference between them.

#glad multiple ppl are wanting talia!!!#i've been wanting to draw her but never found the opportunity #tlou #the last of us #the last of us part2 #tlou2 #tlou dina #tlou talia #i'm gonna start tagging w/ hc names #dina cohen #talia cohen #my art #doodles #doodle prompts

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millerscoffee · 8 months

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Hi brilliant Bee 🐝 can we please get the “do you want my fingers?” prompt from either Frankie or Joel 🤭

hi, sweetheart! i went with joel for this, i hope that's okay! it's a little longer than i intended, so i just want to say – please don't take this personally, everyone else! i'm a sucker for joel and got carried away. sue me! i could've gone longer, and i'm showing great restraint! tehehe. i hope y'all enjoy ♡

take me on

1710 words | joel miller x inexperienced f!reader

rating: 18+ MDNI

warning: age gap (joel: late 50s, reader 28), reader is a virgin/late bloomer (right on time bloomer if you ask me), fingering (f receiving), pet names, praise kink

A/N: this is part of my 500 followers celebration running until 9/9 ♡

To put it simply: you were embarrassed.

It wasn’t that you didn’t want to be with anyone in your years of life, you just hadn’t found the right time or person. Living in Jackson was more comfortable than most places, but it wasn’t like it was easy meeting people – not necessarily a lot of new people to meet.

And that’s when Joel Miller showed up.

He was moody, his time was spent scowling at others while keeping close to his family… for the most part. Sometimes he was scowling alone when the waters were rocky. But when he saw you, the subtlety of his features softened: his shoulders, his eyebrows. It was something you didn’t pick up straight away, but iteration made it obvious.

Like the one night Joel was in the middle of an argument just outside The Tipsy Bison, when he saw you show up. He was presenting to be a different person around you – his words fell off to the side, and he opened the door for you without a word.

Of course, he continued the fight the very second the door closed behind you.

A grin splayed over your face.

A few days passed, built up until Joel found the courage to speak to you. And that burn was just as slow.

A small crowd of people left until the two of you were on either side of a bench. His eyes met yours, wide and curious. His larynx buoyed upon swallowing, a grunt slipped through his nose.

“Hey.”

Man of a few words.

But it didn’t take long for the two of you to strike up a conversation, and even shorter for you to learn the pathways that it took for him to unravel for you.

That was a month ago.

Now, you find yourself in Joel’s house, nestled up in his room.

There had been a couple of times leading up to this point. You’ve kissed, you’ve spent hours heavy petting. Joel calling you darlin’, wanting more of you. He understands that you’re nervous, but he is but a carnal being at the end of the day.

So are you, you’re finding.

And you know it now underneath the dark duvet, the desire you cannot contain. The slick rising between your legs.

“Joel,” you whisper: lips chaste, thighs quivering as he settles between them. “I- I want you.”

These are the words he’s been dying to hear, but still you watch his gaze shift – fire and flame, eagerness and concern.

“What can y’take?”

You swallow a whimper at his attentiveness. His desire to take care of you.

“I don’t really know,” you bite your cheek, and god, it’s silly. You should know what you want by now. You’ve built up so much momentum for this moment, even before Joel was in the picture, and now that it’s here, you freeze.

“Hey,” Joel’s palm soothes over the side of your neck and your pupils blow wide at the sensation, the observation, the unmentioned praise. “You don’t gotta know. We’ll go slow, alright?”

You nod feverishly, your hands exploring – timid and clumsy – over his sides through his flannel, and fuck, he loves that. Loves the sensation of your delicate grazes exclaiming their inclinations for him.

“Okay,” you muster it, and Joel helps you undress. Clothing is off of you until you’re in your underwear and top on his bed.

It’s slow, this process. He takes his time. Admires you with kind eyes, with soft words, with grunts and muttered damn’s. A good half hour of this build up, of his lips on your skin. Of him taking his time with you, to work you up, to make you feel safe.

And you are rattling for him.

“Joel, I–” you don’t mean for it to sound like a moan, but his ears perk up when it happens.

“Talk t’me, baby,” you shudder at his big palms crossing the landscape of your thighs.

“Y-yknow I’ve never, I’ve never.”

You can’t get it out. Twenty-eight. A virgin. Never been naked for someone like this, much less touched.

“I know, darlin’. And you’ll let me take care a’you? ‘Cuz we can stop, y’just gotta say the word.”

“N-no!” you feel blood pooling at your cheeks, and that tugs a grin from him.

“No?” He's amused now, but still tender. His head tilts to gaze between your legs, and lets out a weak whistle. “I know you’re nervous, but do you know how damn irresistible you are?”

And fuck, you’re ruined by that.

“I’m not nervous,” you grin weakly, hips shifting under his gaze.

“Yeah, I know. So brave for me, aren’tcha?”

“I’m brave,” you breathe the repeated phrase, “I want this.” Hearing just how brave you’re being makes you feel braver than you may actually be. Sneaky man, it’s working.

“Do you want my fingers?”

Says the man whose fingers were curled under the collar of some man earlier in the day for cutting him off in line for lunch. How could they be delicate now?

Regardless, it pulls you. You feel your core pulse at this, your clit tingles at the prospect of being touched and all you can do is nod, “Y-yes.”

That’s all Joel needs.

He shifts on the bed, noises of age escaping from him as one knee is bent on his bed, other foot planted deep into the floor. Hovering over you, but not in a way that makes you nervous. It makes you feel cared for. Your eyes look up, wet and round up to his deep brown eyes that stake their claim over you.

“I’m gonna pull these off now. That alright?” he nods in the direction between your legs and you tell him yes before you even realise it.

The cool air against the dampness of your cunt draws a gasp from you and your hand instinctively wraps around his wrist. “Joel,” you whimper, biting the plush of your bottom lip.

“Good girl,” he coos, nodding in acknowledgement of how intense it is. “Doin’ so good f’me. You know that too, don’t you?”

You swallow down, nodding back. Legs split innately, spreading your mess down your thighs. “Lord,” he breathes, “You are somethin’ special, you know that?” you’re speechless, but the peak of your nipples through the fabric speak a lot for you – the breathy sighs, the needy hips. And he allows it. Because you’re fresh, you’re new, you don’t need to be demanded. He wants this right for you.

“Gonna touch you, okay?” “Okay,” you mewl. At first it’s your legs, right at the crease; at your hips. And then, he’s cursing under his breath when the pads of his fingers finally – patiently – run up and down over your folds. It’s lazy, it’s unhurried, his skin is so hot it throbs you. The ache is all-consuming, and you could come apart just from this.

“This for me?” the sounds of your wetness rebound in your ears, causing your brows to knit and whimpers to fill in beside the slick as you bob your head.

“Please, please. I want to feel you. Need to feel this.”

You find the words as he finds the green light.

One finger dips down in this tentative headspace. His eyes flit from your face to your core, and you feel so gorgeous under the gaze. You swallow then, knowing his fingers are far larger than yours, but you are brave – remember? And he knows it. He’s slow, intentional when he grooves over your entrance: the source of your wetness.

He watches you carefully, tempting the digit inside at the very tip and you hiss reactionarily. It stings. No matter how turned on you are, this is new and your blood is pumping around his finger. But you let him know it’s okay, how you can take it. His other hand pushes your hair back in awe of you, in praise, and gently nudges the finger up.

“So full,” you gasp, almost giggling from the stir. That sharpness melts into pleasure and you nudge your cheek into his palm as he sits more now. In front of you, palm traveling down your side to land at your hip, the middle finger tempting to press deeper until he’s at the knuckle. It’s delicious – cosmic and veracious.

“Tight, fuckin’ gorgeous,” he can’t help but utter and it’s within him rolling his thumb over your clit do you feel the pressure inside you build.

It’s strange, too.

You don’t expect the feeling to pull pleasure out of you, but the repetitious movements make your eyes roll back – his skill, and his intent.

“I ca�� I c-can’t last, p–”

“C’mon, pretty girl. You can let go for me.” He’s so soft like this, albeit in complete control of you. And that unfamiliar permission sends fireworks from your core, down your legs – your hips rocking up and you inhale sharply at the feeling of him moving in deeper from that. “Joel!”

“Fuck,” he mutters to himself, but makes light work in keeping the focus on you, on fucking you through it.

And it’s not that you haven’t orgasmed, but you didn’t expect to – not within your first experience with someone else.

But you’re quickly understanding Joel isn’t just anyone else.

His eyes are hungry, grunts spilling from him as he absorbs this. Just nodding – at least you think he is in between your eyes screwing shut, and the ringing in your ears. You’re flashed with white hot pleasure, and you don’t want it to end.

“That’s it, sweet girl. That’s right. Look so pretty cummin’ around my finger like this. Sound so pretty for me, too.” And just before you become too sensitive, he slows down. Takes his thumb off of your clit, the vice grip you have on his thick finger makes it difficult for him to pull out – but he manages just fine. A pleased grin plucking him.

“Wait. Are you okay? Do you need anything?” You shift, realising that he hasn’t been addressed, but he’s quick to shake his head and clean you up. Those rough hands that have done mean things are so gentle as they place the clothes back on your body. His lips flutter over your forehead.

“All in good time, babygirl. All in good time.”

#joel miller smut #joel miller fic #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x f!reader #500 followers prompt #joel miller #tlou fic #tlou smut #soft!joel miller #soft!joel #joel miller fluff #joel miller x inexperienced reader

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just-ex1sting · 1 year

Text

More Scenes That Would Probably Happen In The Last Of Us

(Cause my alters had the convos)

Ellie- “Hey, Tessy!!”

Tess- “Oh Jesus don’t call me that”

Ellie- “Why not?”

Tess- “You’re already lucky enough I let you call me Tess”

Ellie- “Pleaseeeee??”

Tess- “No.”

Ellie- “Pleaseeeeeeeeee???????”

Tess- “You’re just gonna keep asking, huh?”

Ellie- “Maybeee”

Tess- “*sigh* Fine.”

Ellie- “Yayyy!!!”

Tess- “*whispering to Joel* Hey, Texas?”

Joel- “Hm?”

Tess- “Can we maybe just… Chuck her into a River or something?”

Joel- “She can’t swim, Tess.”

Tess- “Exactly”

Ellie- “I can still hear you”

Tess- “Cool, so you up for it?”

Joel- “Tess.”

Tess- “What?”

Ellie- “Uhhh… I’ll think about it!”

Tess- “Great!”

Joel- “*heavy dad sigh* I’m going to bed, don’t kill each other while I’m asleep.”

Tess- “I make no promises. ‘Night, Texas”

#the last of us #ellie williams #joel miller #tlou #Tess #I love when Tess calls Joel Texas #tlou prompts #the last of us prompts #my alters are weird and this is where #I get my inspiration from

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sky-is-the-limit · 8 months

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MDNI/+18/afab y/n.

(Disclaimer: I'm not a writer/smut writers feel free to be inspired/continue this!)

Okay but I need someone to write a smut of Abby and Ellie competing for the reader (in tlou universe) like they both come from Jackson and though they're on friendly terms, they're always competing with each other about everything, who's a better shooter, who can kill more infected, who can get more girls, you get the vision.

(art by @abbystanaccount)

One day the usual group, including them both, were on the way to get supplies but an unexpected hoard of infected made them all split up in pairs, leaving Ellie stuck with Abby. As expected, they can't decide on where to go because both of them are stubborn, think they're always right and have the need to lead, leaving the other frustrated, mumbling that their plan is the right one. Their little argument on which way to go is cut short when they notice that the sun is going down and no matter which way they decide to take, they're gonna get stuck in the darkness, out in the open with no supplies or backup if they get ambushed. Only option is to spend the night at the small abandoned house located at the top of the hill. It seems like a pretty decent option considering the situation they're stuck in.

While Ellie is checking the surroundings of the house, Abby cautiously makes her way towards the front door, her gun in hand as she checks the first room inside. Clean. She motions to Ellie that the place seems empty and makes her way up the stairs, quietly, gun pointed towards the wooden closed door of the first room she encounters.

"Take one more step and I'll blow your fucking head off!" A voice yells from behind the door, catching Abby off guard as she got distracted from the sound of the front door closing. Damn it, Ellie.

"Fuck, sounds like someone's here already-" Ellie mumbles quietly, gun pointed upwards whilst taking slow steps towards Abby, who looks more annoyed than worried, like a minor inconvenience just occurred and not someone actually threatening to blow her head off.

"Yeah, no shit." Abby sighs deeply, closing her eyes for a second before taking another step towards the door, ignoring Ellie's 'what the fuck are you doing' look.

"What the hell are you doing?!" She finally says out loud, quiet enough for stranger not to hear but loud enough to make Abby roll her eyes and turn her attention towards her.

"It's already pitch black outside and it sounds like she's alone in th-"

"I'll fucking shoot!" The voice yells again, this time sounding closer, less confident, like the person inside moved to have a clearer shot at the door but is definitely panicking about it. Abby always had the better intuition between the two, always able to tell when someone's afraid of her, which was usually the case, always knowing exactly when to shoot and when not to, when to panic and when to stay calm. This was definitely a 'stay calm' situation with the 'threat' panicking behind the wooden door. They have the upper hand.

"She's definitely alone." Abby whispers turning her gaze back at the door, her hand carefully touching the handle but before she does anything, she looks back at Ellie who sends a small nod her way, making sure she knows they're on the same page about this. It's a nice change for once.

"You won't do shit, don't be stupid!" Ellie calls out, repositioning herself on the left side of the door, her gun ready in hand as Abby firms her grip tighter on the handle, signaling that she's about to burst in. Now the 'threat' inside knows that there's more than one person waiting for them if the decide to pull anything, though that would be the worst case scenario in the world they live in.

"One shot and infected come storming in, you don't want that, we surely don't want that-" Ellie continues before Abby slowly pushes down the door handle, barely opening the door an inch before the person inside speaks up again, the sound of her footsteps moving away from her previous position, allowing Abby to push the door open a little more.

"What do you want then?!" Her voice sounds more cautious now, less nervous as if she's trying unsuccessfully to come across as fearless.

"We only want shelter for the night, we're not going to harm you, I promise." Abby calls out, sending Ellie a 'get ready' look before she finally pushes the door open, gun pointed towards the woman inside. To her surprise, the woman is not holding a gun nor a knife. She's gripping tightly on wooden bat, her eyes fierce as she takes a step forward towards them, like a wounded animal full of adrenaline, ready to attack in order to protect itself.

"Wait, you were seriously gonna take us out with that?" Ellie finally walks in, her gun pointed forward as she raises an eyebrow surprised, her tone full of sarcasm. She takes a moment to assess the sight in front of her before slowly lowering her gun to face the floor. Oh and it was a sight. You know what they say, stranger danger. However, they never tell you what to do if said danger was temptation on legs and Ellie wouldn't be able to take her eyes away even if said temptation was holding a fucking grenade. The woman was only wearing a pair of slim, black jeans hugging her figure perfectly like they were tailored just for her, with a shirt nowhere to be found. In it's place only a black bra, barely visible now as the woman uncomfortably tries her best to hold the bat while hiding her nakedness by crossing her arms over her chest. Ellie blinks a few times before coming down to her senses, this is not the time, right? Abby would tell her to get her shit together and not let her guard down and so she turns her gaze to Abby only to find her in a similar state.

Abby has seen her fair share of good looking women, hell, even had them in her bed once or twice, some even more times than she can count. She's confident in her looks, she knows damn well the effect she has on whoever she wants to spend the night with. Manny affectionately calls her the 'chick magnet' though the envy in his voice every time he sees a woman leaving Abby's room is very obvious. Yet now she can barely put the words together in her head to form a sentence or make sure that the stranger knows not to fuck with her.

On the contrary, her thoughts right now very much involve said stranger fucking with her in a very dissimilar, specific way. Ellie's eyes on her finally make Abby snap out of it, realising that even if the woman is outnumbered, they shouldn't let their guard down, they don't know if someone's coming for her.

"We only want shelter for the night. We'll be out of your hair first thing in the morning." Abby mumbles, lowering her gun down when she notices the woman relaxing her grip on the bat, now looking back and forth between her and Ellie almost defeated, clearly coming to terms with the fact that being hostile won't do her any good in this situation. Abby takes a quick glance back at the woman, her right shoulder covered in dried blood, a few slashes from her collarbone to her stomach and what seems to be a piece of teared up cloth on the table next to her. It looks like she was treating her wounds before her Ellie and her bursted through the door.

"Uh, so what now?" The woman finally speaks up before setting her bat on the table next to her, clearly accepting the situation they're all in without putting up a fight.

"Seems like you're stuck with us for the night." Ellie says, leaning back against the wall, arms crossed over her chest as her gaze unintentionally (or not) travel up and down the woman's body before sending her a playful wink. It's gonna be a long night.

#okay I'm not a writer this is just a prompt #ellie williams #ellie x reader #ellie williams smut #abby anderson #abby anderson smut #abby tlou #abby the last of us #abby anderson x reader #tlou #tlou2 #the last of us

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wakandas-vibranium · 1 year

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10, 11, and 14 with outbreak joel please ;)

10. "Spread your legs wider."

11. "Louder, Let me hear you."

14. "Do you want my fingers."

Fun On A Run

Pairing: Outbreak!Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Warnings: 18+ content, minors DNI, smutty smut, oral(f receiving), unprotected p in v sex

Word count: 1.9k

“You wanna take first watch or second watch?” you asked Joel after you made sure what was left of the living room and kitchen were secure.

“I’ll do first watch,” he said, “I’ll come get you when I start to get tired.”

“Okay. Good night.”

“Night.”

You knew you weren’t going to get any sleep. You were restless these last few days because you were horny and didn’t know how to go about asking Joel to do you a solid and fuck you like there was no tomorrow. You met Joel through Tess about a year ago and became somewhat friends. Joel and Tess didn’t really have friends. You were the closest thing to it. You and Tess fooled around when it was just the two of you on runs, but it never turned into anything serious. You wondered - hoped - that Joel would be the same. Joel was a bit more intimidating than Tess, so you didn't know if you should make a move first or wait for him to.

You both were on your way back from a supply run and decided to stop in one of the neighborhoods you passed on the way to the pickup location and get some sleep. There weren’t any mattresses, but there was a somewhat decent couch. Plus you both had your sleeping bags. You’ve slept in worse conditions.

Luckily, it was early May so it was still pretty warm out, so you strolled over to the back of the living room, plopped against the couch and tried to get some shut eye. You forced your eyelids to stay closed for ten minutes, and when you didn't fall asleep, you fantasized about Joel. About his big hands, thick fingers and how they would feel curled up inside you. Your nipples hardened and you carefully unzipped your pants and pushed them down just enough with your panties to get your hands where you wanted them.

You ran a finger down your slit, gathering some of the wetness, before bringing your finger to your bundle of nerves. You swallowed a moan as you used your free hand to dip a finger inside of you while the other one rubbed against your clit. You let out hushed moans as you thrusted your finger in and out of you, grinding your hips down against it, chasing your pleasure.

“I can hear how soaked you are from all the way over here,” Joel blurted, still facing the front door of the house.

You flinched slightly in response to the volume of his voice but didn't stop your movements, “You wanna taste it?”

“In a bit,” he said as he stood up from his chair and took a step towards you, “Spread your legs wider.”

You obeyed, kicking off your jeans and panties before spreading your legs as far as they could go and bringing your fingers right back to your clit. “Joel,” you moaned softly as you rubbed your clit in slow circles, gazing into his chestnut-brown eyes from across the room. His eyes sparkled with want. How long had he been listening to you play with yourself?

“Louder. Let me hear you.”

Your moans increased as you rubbed your clit in tighter circles and ground down harder against your finger.

“Yeah, just like that,” he said, palming his hardening cock through his dark blue jeans. He was so sexy. That simple movement made you want him even more so you added a second finger, gasping loudly at the stretch you gave yourself. Your fingers were nice, but you wanted to feel Joel’s inside of you.

“Do you want my fingers?” Joel asked as if he could read your mind.

“You know that I do, jackass,” you quipped with a playful eye roll, stopping to pull your shirt and bra over your head in one swift motion.

Joel chuckled softly and shook his head, sauntering the rest of the way towards you, “Lay back for me,” he said as he dropped down to his knees. He cursed softly, mesmerized by the inviting folds that lay in front of him, wet and juicy just for him.

He leaned forward, spreading his warm palms over your inner thighs, and inhaled deeply, taking in your delightful scent as he placed one hand over your lower belly.

Your hips jolted upwards as he worked his long fingers through your slick folds, drawing your swollen clit between his thumb and pointer finger.

“So goddamn wet for me, Y/N,” Joel uttered, grabbing your thighs and pulling your dripping cunt closer to his face.

His breath was warm on your cunt just before his tongue teased open your folds with dominant licks. You let out a high whine as he licked you up and down, closing his lips around your clit and sucking meticulously. He moaned against your cunt, the vibrations made you shudder against his talented tongue. His tongue dipped into your entrance, stretching you open for his fingers. He fucked you open with his tongue, shaking his head from side to side while thumbing your aching clit.

Joel brought two of his fingers up to your soft lips. "Suck," he demanded as he continued to thumb your clit with his other hand. You took his fingers between your lips and sucked, bobbing your head up and down. Once he was satisfied with the wetness he pulled his fingers from your mouth, brought them back down to your cunt and pushed them inside of you.

"How does that feel?" Joel muttered as he slid his thick fingers in and out of your drenched pussy.

You sank your teeth into your bottom lip before replying, “So fuckin’ good, Joel.”

“Your pussy is clinging to my fingers, baby,” he hissed as he thrusted his fingers inside of you even faster. More wetness oozed out of your tight entrance as he whispered erotic words in his low, raspy voice. Your eyes fluttered closed, and you leaned back against the couch cushion. He felt so fucking good. You could feel your climax approaching swiftly. He closed his mouth over your clit again, sucking hard.

"Ooooh," he chuckled softly, mumbling against your cunt as your thighs trembled and you clenched around his fingers, "I can feel it, baby. Cum for me."

Your head thrashed wildly against the cushions as the coil inside your belly snapped. You moaned his name as you came in his mouth and on his fingers.

“Bend over the couch,” he commanded as he sucked your juices off his fingers, standing to undress quickly, barely giving you time to recover. You slid down the couch, presenting your backside to him. He brought his hand down on your ass, smacking it hard before lining his hard cock up with your tight hole.

The anticipation was driving you insane. You needed him inside of you right the fuck now. Your pussy was throbbing for his cock.

Finally, he pushed inside you, inching his cock in until he was fully seated inside of you. You both groaned deeply at the delightfully snug feeling.

“If you keep squeezing my cock like that this is gonna end faster than we both want,” he warned as he began to rock into you with slow thrusts.

“I know, but you just feel so goddamn good inside me,” you admitted, looking back at him over your shoulder with a lopsided grin.

“Such a pretty little pussy,” Joel praised as he watched his cock slide in and out of your wet pussy, picking up the pace.

“Please don’t stop, Joel,” you panted, rocking back against him even harder to chase your orgasm.

“What do I get if I don’t stop fuckin’ you?” he asked as he snaked his arm around your front, bringing your back flush against his chest.

“All of me, baby! You get all of me!” you cried out as he covered your neck with his hand. His pace was so brutal and you enjoyed every single smack of his hips against your ass.

“I’m gonna hold you to that,” he growled into your ear. Joel's hand tightened around your throat, squeezing lightly against the side of your neck while being careful not to block your airway. Your pulse thumped underneath his thick fingers. All you could do was hold onto his forearms and take the pounding he was giving to you. The living room was filled with the squelching of your juices, your whimpering cries, and Joel's groans.

Joel exhaled sharply as he felt your walls tighten around his fat cock, “That’s it, baby. Cum on my cock.” And, as if you were waiting for his permission, you do, knees buckling against the floor and gasping heavily as your walls gripped his cock even tighter. You sobbed a moan, completely blissed out. You hadn’t cum that hard in years.

“You’re doing so good for me, baby,” Joel purred, fucking you nice and hard through another earth shattering orgasm. His praises poured over you like the calm sunlight in the morning sky. Your wetness soaked his cock and dripped down your thighs.

“F-Fuuuuck!” you hollered as he brushed up against that sweet spot deep inside of you. “I love the way you fuck me, Joel!”

“And I love the way you take my cock,” he shot back at you.

You were astounded by his stamina. Tommy usually joked and referred to Joel as an old man, but right here, right now, while fucking your brains out, he didn't feel old at all. He was a seasoned man who knew exactly how to help a woman get her rocks off, and he was pretty damn good at it.

Joel let go of your throat and shifted his hand to your lower back, pressing you down into the floor until your ass arched just the way he liked it. It was his turn to cum now. He rocked into you slowly a few times before setting a relentless pace. As he hammered into you, Joel had your waist in a tight vice, asscheeks smacking against his hips, obscene noises slipping past both of your lips.

All you could do was grasp the couch cushions and scream as he repeatedly pounded at your g spot. Your eyes were watering, and your mouth was drooling. You shuddered, mewling and whimpering as your pussy clamped around his thick cock. Another orgasm ripped through you, causing your vision to blur. You had to blink the dark specks away. You splayed out for him, a whimpering mess.

“So. Fuckin’. Good,” Joel growled out each word as he smacked your asscheek with his other hand as he wildly chased his own orgasm.

“Please cum for me, Joel,” you rasped, begging him because you couldn’t cum again. If you did, you would pass smooth the fuck out on this living room floor.

“It’s cummin’, baby,” Joel whimpered as his thrusts faltered slightly, bringing your ass back against him roughly a few more times before he pulled out quickly, stroked his cock two times then came, shooting his ropes of cum all over your lower back and asscheeks. Your knees gave out and you fell forward against the couch, panting harshly.

"You good?" he asked, taking careful breaths. You lifted your palm, holding it out for him, and said, "Hell yeah, I'm good," and when he realized what you wanted, he smirked at you and slapped it. You both giggled quietly as you attempted to catch your breath.

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ohraicodoll · 1 year

Note

PUHLEASE bitter was SO GOOD!! you write angst so well it makes my chest hurt 😭 but what about what happens the next morning when joel decides to keep going with them 👀 how does feral reader react

Thank you all so much! I didn't expect people to really want a part 2! I really appreciate how everyone has really latched onto this character and want to see her react so feel free to always send requests my way! Here's part 2!

Bitter| Part 2 Joel Miller x f!Reader The Last of Us 4.7k Words/ 3rd POV Feral Reader Masterlist Summary: The morning after the blow out. Joel is gone. Part 1

Ellie was still asleep in her arms when she heard the door across the hall open. She listened with her heart in her throat and anger fresh in her blood as familiar footsteps entered the hallway, seemed to pause, then walk down the steps away before the front door shut. Joel was gone and the world seemed a little bit more bleak.

She didn’t go back to sleep, but laid there holding onto the young girl with her thoughts a swirling mess until dawn broke through the thin curtains. The two of them were silent, somber, getting their packs together and dressing again for the rough weather they would have to travel in. She had never liked the cold before and liked it even less now, but it almost seemed to match how she felt all over. She was a coal fire, burning deep in her core but frigid outside. Ellie’s bright disposition had dimmed drastically. There was no snark, not even any bitter comments about their missing companion. The night had broken her in a different way, grief and disappointment almost making her meek. When the knock sounded, Ellie’s tentative “come in” pierced the silence and her heart broke a little more for the girl. Tommy peeked in, looking over his new charge then catching her eye with hesitation. She knew Joel’s brother was cautious with her, hadn’t known how to take her presence and stares and the way she watched everything. But he tried to offer a small sympathetic smile, understanding pulling his lips that he wasn’t the brother they had come to be familiar with but were stuck with all the same. He led them out the way before pointing over to the stables where they would be mounting up for the journey. She kept her hand on Ellie’s pack the whole walk there through the still sleeping streets of Jackson, reassuring them both that they had each other. Even though she was stuck with someone she didn’t know, she was glad to be leaving Jackson and going back out there. Out there she knew how to survive, how to deal with everything. The small town was out of her element and she felt like everyone knew it, would watch her with accusatory eyes.

Her thoughts tried not to stray to the man who had dumped them there. Found his brother and promptly got rid of them, brushing his hands of the burdens he’d had pushed onto him. If she focused on him, the anger would turn to hurt and hurt didn’t have a place outside the walls of safety.

With a sigh, she followed Ellie into the stables only to stop short behind her as they reached the first stall.

Joel stood there, checking over a horse that had been prepped already with a saddle and bags. His eyes found hers, then Ellie’s, then his brother’s before going back to preparing the horse. The air was tense and suffocating, the weight of everything between them all occupying the space. She held her breath, clenched her teeth. “You came here to say goodbye or something?” Ellie bit out in anger. The words were mocking, but she could hear the almost underlying hope in them. For all he had said and done to hurt her, the girl wanted him to stay and choose her. “No,” Joel replied and she could see her shoulders fall in disappointment, but he continued, “I came here to steal one of these horses and go.” She wanted to scoff, but bit her tongue, jaw clenching so hard her teeth groaned. Tommy looked between them and shrugged to his brother, ever placating, “Well, I woulda gave you one.” Because Joel only ever had to ask and his brother would always give. At that Joel turned, patted the horse and looked at him with a sigh, “I know.” It was an acknowledgement that Tommy would always be there, always want his approval and love. There was a small smile, tinged in sadness, but Joel only sniffed and turned to the two girls that were his companions, “Anyway…that was thirty minutes ago and I guess…” The words were stilted, awkward, as if he didn’t know what to say but knew if he stopped the words wouldn’t come out at all. He sighed again and walked towards them, licking his lips and decidedly avoiding her eye contact.

Swallowing, he pulled his bravado back off the floor and looked at Ellie, “You deserve a choice.”

Instantly, she could see Ellie’s eyes light up the moment the words were out in the open, that hope a bright shining beacon even as he continued, “I still think you’d be better off with Tommy-”

She nodded and shoved her bag into his hands quickly and with force, cutting him off with an enthusiastic, “Let’s go.”

He paused with his next words halfway on his tongue, frozen as she simply looked at him and brushed passed to the horse. “Okay,” the words were a hammer, cementing the decision and the path going forward. Joel stared at the empty spot where the girl once stood then his eyes flickered up finally to meet hers. She was stuck in between feeling that boiling anger from the night before and relief. He wasn’t leaving them behind, wasn’t abandoning them. All three were back together, but now she wasn’t sure how to feel.

It was easier to just hate him and never see him again than deal with this rift between them.

Tommy seemed to understand there was still something else at play beyond Joel’s decision. With a small smile, he nodded at them both before shrugging, “I better go get a second horse prepped for y'all. I’ll be back.” He gave his brother a pointed look, patting his shoulder, before quickly exiting further into the stables.

Joel swallowed, dark eyes meeting hers. Nervous. Joel Miller was nervous and she wanted to sink her teeth into that, use it to gain an upper hand because it was better than him making her feel unsure and lesser. He sighed for the thousandth time before calling back to Ellie, “We’ll be right back.” For once, the girl didn’t make a comment or ask for an explanation. She was sure some part of their conversation had been overheard from across the hall and Ellie didn’t protest giving them their space. Walking forward, he nodded to a spot a little bit away but she didn’t move. She didn’t want to be alone with him, didn’t want to talk about what had happened. Joel wasn’t leaving Ellie, that was her only concern. They didn’t have to get along to make this work. If anything, they’d proven that months before when both had hated each other vehemently. It’d only been sex. There were no hurt feelings, couldn’t be because feelings had never been involved. But she found herself turning around and moving, his hand hovering over her back as he guided her a distance away, and the sting of anger still coating her throat along with something that felt like pain. “Listen, last night-” “Don’t,” she hissed, surprised to feel herself slightly shaking and yanked away from him to put space between them, “I don’t need your morning after regret apologies. You said what you had to say and you’re right. My only point is to help Ellie and that’s it. There’s nothing else, we won’t be crossing that boundary line again.” “Red, stop,” he shook his head and took a step closer, wincing, “I- fuck, I didn’t mean-” She scoffed, baring her teeth, “Didn’t mean what? The part where you didn’t want me around? Where I was just a hole for you to fuck? Where you didn’t give a shit what happened to me?” She smiled bitterly, “There’s a long list, Tex, you’re gonna have to be specific.” His brow furrowed and hands went to his hips as he stared down at the ground, lips pressed tightly together. He seemed unable to get the right words out, mouth opening and closing in frustration. He’d never been good at hard discussions, especially about things like emotions, and whatever apology he had planned caught in his throat. So she pushed forward, fueled by the anger she felt burning in her chest and the urge to make herself or him hurt for no reason other than her bruised feelings needed to find a release, “You were right. I’m not Tess. I’m not anything. There is no happy ending for me. We get Ellie to the Fireflies, I make sure she’s safe, and then no one has to deal with me any longer. I’m out. She’s good with you but I’m not going to abandon her mid-journey.” The unspoken “unlike you tried to” settled into the space between them, a live wire. He frowned, teeth clench, and when his eyes met hers they seemed to plead, “I want to fix this.” Joel had to be the one to fix things, no matter how impossible. Protect, fix everyone’s problems, be the savior. But that wasn’t always possible. “You can’t fix everything,” she bit out and turned, walking away, trying to ignore the glimpse she had gotten of his hand reaching out to grab her wrist. _______________________________ She tried to focus that first day.

It was like resettling into an old skin that was slightly too tight. Her eyes would track their surroundings, feel the motion of her horse underneath her, hand on the strap of her rifle but every now and then she would feel his gaze on her. Ellie quickly got back into the groove of being with them, much happier now that her favorite person was back with her. Her hands gripped his waist and she would send small smiles her way as if to say, “Look, he came back to us.” She tried not to openly frown so as to not dim the girl’s spirits and listened to them chat without much input. But it was hard to ignore how he looked over to her every so often, how he seemed more open and relaxed around the kid behind him, even answering whatever questions she had and not once telling her to shut up after her tenth pun. She tried to ignore how he seemed lighter, more at ease, even chuckling and smiling more. The Joel Miller riding the horse with Ellie at his back was different from the one the night before, proclaiming she wasn’t his daughter, that they were parting ways and that was that. And she wasn’t sure what to do with that knowledge. A decision seemed to have settled in his mind. What the question had been, she wasn’t sure, but he’d make a choice. The wall that had been so high, steel and concrete thick, and been so slow to come down and fast to resurrect was almost decimated completely. This was a glimpse of the Joel Miller that he had existed back in Texas and she wasn’t sure what to do with that. She felt more like a stranger than ever. When they stopped to make a fire and eat in the cover of some rocks, he didn’t argue about the smoke, about the placement of their sleeping mats with his in between theirs, and even served her himself, eyes unwavering as they met hers. Ellie wasn’t stupid, she knew that. She could tell the kid was quick to understand some of what had happened between them, what had been going on before Jackson, and that she wasn’t so quick to forgive as the kid was. Ellie was a soft spot for her, both of them, one the kid knew and manipulated often, but she was slower to trust others and it had taken months to let Joel in only for him to blow that up. She wasn’t sure when both the teenager and gruff man next to her had climbed under her skin, but they had and she wasn’t sure she liked it. It made losing so much harder, the thought of leaving them behind a tight knot in her throat. The problem was she wanted to forgive him. She wanted things to go back to how they were because it was so much less complicated. Yes, sex had been involved and even when it wasn’t, she often found herself wrapped around the man in their sleep, but denial was easy to hang on to. She clung to the excuses, like that they still hated each other or there was nothing there but raw need and a means to an end when it came to release. But she had liked the attention she had gotten, his hands on her body and lips on her skin. The late night chats about nothing that somehow meant everything. They’d handed over small pieces of themselves to each other, calling them junk when really they were treasures. He’d been a good southern boy, taking care of his brother. His favorite musician had been Johnny Cash and he’d worked his first job at fifteen so he could buy his own guitar. Little bits of Joel that had been castaway comments, but she’d kept them close to her chest. Now, with his eyes constantly on her, something in those dark irises, she wasn’t sure what to do with this kind of attention. She was used to Joel being on equal or higher footing and now it felt odd to have him almost silently pleading with her, asking for her grace. Like a supplicant asking for forgiveness. She went to sleep first if only to escape, saying she’d take second watch, and could feel his eyes on her as she slipped into darkness.

When Ellie asked to use the rifle the next day, she expected to hear his usual grumbling in protest. She’d been given her pistol and that was as far as he’d ever let her use a weapon. But she watched now as Joel gave in, watched Ellie’s smile bloom into a huge grin as he told her he was going to teach her how to shoot it properly first. And she continued to watch in uncertainty as this new Joel made a target out of scrap material and walked far out, setting it up a good distance away in the small field they were crossing. The girl was giddy, practically bouncing on her heels, and kept looking to her in celebration. Ellie grinned wide at her as he did so, almost in amazement that he was giving in to her, and she had to smile back though her heart hurt at the childlike excitement. She knew this was Joel’s way of making things up to her. He was bonding with her, teaching her, like most fathers would. And she was unable to keep her eyes off the man as he walked back with an easy step. She sat on the ground a foot or two away from them as he showed her how to hold the rifle, load it, and aim down the scope. A toppled log served as their brace and they both bickered, tucked into each other closely, as he watched through binoculars and she flinched with each shot, bullets going wide. Ellie was stubborn and so desperately wanted to be a natural, wanted to prove herself to the man, thus leading to her blaming the faulty weapon. As time went on, their conversation loosened the tight knot inside her and she found herself relaxing and smiling at them. The thought floated that this must have been how Joel was like when he was a dad, staring down at Ellie with humor and ease.

When they switched and he shot the target centerpoint, she had to swallow a laugh at the dumb face he made at the girl and the wide eyed amazement Ellie tried to disguise. There was a sense of pride about him at that look, like in her eyes he had grown ten feet tall and was capable of anything.

As he turned to look at her, she knew she hadn’t stifled her smile fast enough. She got up and went to the horses, getting them ready to head back out, if only to hide for a bit.

This was a different Joel. Warm and sometimes gentle, patient and reasonable. But she was still the same, rough and sharp and broken edges.

Maybe leaving was for the best before she cut one of them.

Night fell again and they went through the same unwinding process. Ellie was talking in between bites of food, asking questions about what they used to do back in the day as if recognizing that there was no longer a barrier prohibiting it. At least when it came to Joel. She was still tight lipped, keeping the ugliness that was her own history away from the light conversation. She had already given enough of her story to the girl, the good parts, and didn’t want to stain her with the bad.

But Ellie was so smart sometimes and could see the unresolved tension. When the food was done and everything put away for the night, she feigned a yawn, arms stretching high above her head, “Man, I’m pooped. All that shooting really tired me out so I think I’m gonna turn in early. Night!”

And then she’d dragged her sleeping bag to the opposite side of the campfire flames, furthest back into the alcove they’d found, and turned her back on them to sleep. Distance. She’d given them distance to be alone together.

She sighed, feeling the pressing silence between them both now that Ellie’s presence was no longer acting as a buffer. The campfire and the night sky made them feel like they were in their own bubble, sitting at the edges of the light with the darkness at their backs. The small ridge they’d taken shelter in hid them but also trapped her there with him.

Before, she hadn’t ever been good at relationships or feelings. She’d been in her early twenties when the world fell to pieces and had been with Harry for six years. High school sweethearts. A romantic notion back then but now eye rolling in the current state of reality. She hadn’t gotten the chance to experience getting to know other men, to deal with anyone other than meek Harry.

Joel wasn’t him. Joel was all bristles and rough charm, dry humor and hard stares. And twenty years later, decades of being alone, she was even worse at people than before.

She didn’t know how to do this.

“Red-” “I’ll take the first watch,” she cut him off, standing quickly and grabbing the rifle from its spot, “You get some sleep.” She needed to get away from him, get away from his stare and the feeling of rage that was quickly falling away to showcase the pain it had been covering up. The reality of being alone with him, of him bringing up the argument, was a pressing weight that was threatening to suffocate her. It wasn’t anything she could fight. She couldn’t claw or bite or shoot or stab this feeling and needed to get away. But she’d forgotten. Joel was persistent. She would only be able to dodge him for so long when he was determined and that luck seemed to run out already. “Red, stop,” he was quick on her heels as they both walked a bit outside their camping spot, the fire casting faint orange light on their skin, “Please, I’m sorry-” His hand was on her wrist and she tried to shake him off, but couldn’t, “I don’t need your fucking apologies-” “Will you just fucking listen to me?”The pressure was too much, her breath thin rasps from her lungs as it all threatened to choke her. Jackson, the argument, this new easier Joel with his stares, Ellie’s happy smiles, and her like a looming storm cloud behind them. The pressure was mounting and mounting, tearing at her skin, stabbing her heart.

Then it finally erupted. She punched him. It was a quick, hard snap and her knuckles stung, but that anger inside her rose and rose and she couldn’t stop herself. She was hurt and like all wild animals when they were hurt, they lashed out. They were dangerous. Joel stumbled back a couple steps and released her wrist, eyes findings hers in the darkness, and his hand rose to touch his lip. Drops of blood sparkled in the distant firelight. “Starshine-” she swung again and this time met air as he leaned back, dodging. Again and again, she punched wildly, stance forgotten, frustration building as he moved out the way or she only managed to clip skin or clothes. The rifle she’d been holding had dropped to the ground forgotten. He caught her fist and held it in his grip tightly, grabbing her free wrist in his other hand and backing them up to the ridge wall until her back met stone. She bucked and fought against him, knees raising to kick and knee him until he pressed even closer to keep her from being able to lift them. “I- fuck, Red, stop. I’m sorry!” he hissed as she struggled against him like a trapped animal, “I am, I’m sorry for all of it.” “Fuck you,” she snarled in his face. “Come on-” he pleaded and the words were a sad sigh, wincing when she knocked against him particularly hard. “I hate you,” she growled and tugged against his hold, hands trapped between their chests and the heat and smell of him all around her. “I know,” he whispered back softly, remorse dripping into her skin. Everything was a mess inside her, lava filling her blood and bones, his fingers and touch scalding. She didn’t know what to do with everything bubbling inside, didn’t know what to do with herself, but it all felt like too much. This man had hurt her, had comforted her, had fought and raged against her and also raged for her and protected her. He’d left and come back and now she didn’t know how to deal with this version that looked at her with soft eyes and apologies. It was too much. She needed a release so she took it.

Her mouth smashed against his, bridging the space between them and catching him off guard. He quickly caught up and sank into her, kissing her back with equal force though not letting go of her. His blood was on her lips, on her tongue, and she dug her fingers into the fabric of his coat with a groan. She wanted to devour him, eat him whole and never let him go. It hurt being with him, never quite knowing how to operate, but the pain made her feel more alive than she’d had in a long time. Her skin hadn’t known touch in so long, lips cold and alone, that she wasn’t sure if she could go without his now and that made her angry. It made her desperate and those small few hours where she thought he’d left them had made her realize that hollowness was a possibility. Finally one of his hands let hers go, but she didn’t pull away. She didn’t take his relaxing as an opportunity to run. So he took that as permission to run his fingers through her hair, twisting the still freshly cleaned strands between them. She bit down on his lower lip, swallowing his groan, and when he opened his mouth her tongue found his. This wasn’t like the other times where it was nothing but gnashing teeth and tongue and lips, almost brutal and bordering on painful. He wanted her, she could feel it in the press of his hips against hers and the eagerness of his mouth, and was so gentle with her. While she took and took, he freely gave and let her take the charge. It wasn’t a battle, but a surrender. Her hand drifted, frustrated at his lack of fight, and went to his belt buckle before working to get it undone. She needed to feel him, to get him to fight and be aggressive and not be so fucking soft with her. It wasn’t something she was ready for, what him being this way towards her meant. But Joel paused, forehead against hers as he broke their kiss, whispering his protests, “Wait, hold on.” She didn’t want to stop because stopping meant talking and she felt rubbed raw, naked before him and the cavity of her chest ripped open. As her hands continued to underdo his belt, his hand came to rest on top of them, stilling her fingers. One hand in her hair, he used it to lift her chin up and meet his eyes, bringing them both back to awareness. His lip was still bleeding, some of it smeared across his chin and beard, eyes so dark in the firelight as he looked her over, “I…you aren’t nothing. Not to Ellie… and not to me.” He sighed, brow furrowed and she wondered if he could feel her shaking, “And…you aren’t Tess-” She pulled back, the name a wound with ripped open stitches, and tried to walk away but he stopped her, “Just wait.” With a hard frown, she whipped back to him, “Were you this bad at apologizing before the world ended or is this a new thing?” “I was bad before,” he huffed out frustrated and paused, the words stuck in his throat and like he was trying to force them out, “Sarah…my daughter used to get after me and feed me the words. I’ve never been good at it.” Pausing herself, the name of his kid felt big between them. An admission, an acknowledgement. He hadn’t ever talked about his kid, but here he was. It was enough to freeze her in place, keep her there and silent so he could continue.

“You aren’t…Tess and I don’t want you to be. You’re not a replacement,” Joel chewed on his lower lip, head bowed, “I like you how you are, rough edges and all, and I shouldn’t have said any of it. I’m sorry. I was angry and I thought you both would be safer with Tommy-” “I don’t care who I’m safer with,” she cut him off, surprised by the adamency behind her own words. “”Well I do,” his own reply was biting, not angry at her, but frustrated at her own lack of care, “I care if you’re safe, both of you. I thought you both would be better off without me and I was trying to pull away…only for you to try and claw me back. I was really fucking stupid and I know yesterday or tonight won’t make up for it.” His thumb caressed her cheekbone and she let out a shaky sigh, biting on the inside of her cheek as he continued softly, “But in the same way I need Ellie, I need you too.” Joel, at his core, was a builder. Before the world tanked, he’d worked with his hands because that’s what he could do. Fix things. That was how he operated. He wasn’t a master strategist, wasn’t a leader. He was good at figuring things out when needed and putting things right. And she could see how desperately he wanted to fix the damage between them. It was just a matter of if she wanted things to be fixed. And maybe she did, even though she knew the path they were going down was going to be so much more complicated. Fixing things also terrified her. “You’re right,” she replied hesitantly, “It doesn’t make up for it.” “I know-” “We’ve got a week until we reach the Fireflies and before I decide if I’m leaving. Guess you have time to work on it,” she let the statement hang along with that dangling hope of forgiveness. In truth, he didn’t have to work hard. If he kept smiling at her, kissing her, she was done for. It was the stubbornness and pain that was clinging on like the last vestiges of a war. She didn’t know if she would actually leave, if she could leave them both. But they had a week at most to figure that out.

Joel pressed into her, forehead resting against her own once again. She could feel the relief flood him, the way his hands wrapped around her waist in thanks. And this time she didn’t fight him when his lips turned to meet her own, this time with gentleness instead of rage, a whispered apology in each kiss.

Maybe this new Joel wasn’t bad, wasn’t entirely different if he still wanted her.

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thetriumphantpanda · 10 months

Note

Hi! Are you still taking prompts? You’re one of my favorite writers lately and I’m wondering if you’re still taking requests…

If so can I ask for “i’ve been thinking about you all day“ & “shh. there’s people in the other room.“ with Joel Miller. Semi-public where they do it in the bathroom with people outside. Maybe they even get caught whatever you like and make it as freaky as you want 🥵

Thank you so much! 💖

Hello Anon! Thank you so much for sending this in and for such kind words, I'm so glad you're enjoying my writing! 🫶🏼 This was such a perfect prompt pairing for our man Joel - I really enjoyed writing this!! I hope you do too! Hopefully it's freaky enough for you! 😘

Pairing | Joel Miller x Female Reader

Word Count | 1.8k

Warnings | Kinda public sex, unprotected PiV sex (Honestly guys unless it's the end of the world, wrap it up), just Joel being a general menace really, tiny return to mirror sex (is this now a thing?). SMUTTY SMUT BELOW THE CUT.

You’d been thinking about Joel all day and judging by the way he was currently staring at you from across the room, he’d been doing the same. You’d woken up too late that morning to indulge in what was quickly becoming a morning ritual of getting each other off in bed before you went about your daily tasks. He’d tried to blame the tiredness on you, but when you’d retorted that if he’d stopped at making you come twice with his mouth, instead of insisting on three times and then the two more he’d coaxed from you whilst he was buried deep inside you, you’d have been asleep at a reasonable time. Not even Joel Miller could argue with that.

The party was in full swing at The Tipsy Bison – It had become a weekly occurrence on a Friday evening for as many people as possible to gather in the bar and toast making it another week through the end of the world. You were leant against the bar, only half-listening to what the girls around you were talking about, eyes trained on Joel who was doing pretty much the same as you, half-listening to Tommy and the other people around him, sipping at whiskey with his eyes never leaving you or your body.

You can tell you’re both playing a game, wanting to know which one of you is going to break first and drag the other one home. You want him to break first, it’s always you. Whilst you have his eyes on you, you lift your own glass of whiskey to your lips, pulling it away too soon on purpose, letting a drop of the amber liquid pool on your bottom lip. You stare him straight in the eye over the crowd as you drag your tongue across your lip, biting into it a little for good measure. You can see the smirk on his mouth, he knows exactly what you’re doing.

You watch as he rests a hand on the back of the chair next to him. He bends to set his empty glass on the table and then he stands back up, hip popped in his usual stance, fingers stuck through his belt loop. He knows you love it when he stands like this, even better if it’s leant up against the doorway to your bedroom. You curse at the fact that you've lost this battle, yet again.

“Excuse me ladies.” You smile at the group around you, leaving your half-finished drink on the bar.

You slink through the crowd before you come to a stop next to him, greeting Tommy and the rest of the men in his group with a small smile and a ‘hello’. You snake your arm around his waist, pressing the side of your body to his. To anyone else it looks innocent enough, but then they can’t see your hand slipping into the back pocket of his jeans. Joel looks down at you, eye glazed dark with lust as his free arm comes to rest along your shoulders. Everyone else is deep in conversation around you, not really noticing you.

“I’ve been thinking about you all day.” You say quietly, just loud enough for him to catch.

“is that so, darlin’?” He replied, southern drawl more prominent thanks to the whiskey in his system, “What were you thinkin’ about, specifically?”

Your hand in his back pocket squeezes the meat of his ass, “Was thinking about being able to get you home, strip you down and have my way with you.”

“That so?” His eyebrow raises, you’re always surprised by how he can act so nonchalant like this in public, even with your hands all over him, “Well darlin’, I’ve been thinkin’ about you all day too, but I don’t think we need to go all the way home to get what we want.”

Your eyes widen at his suggestion. He wouldn’t, would he? Find somewhere here that he could fuck you? But the more you think about it, the more you realise that exactly what he would do and that’s exactly what he’s talking about. His arm drops from your shoulders, drags your hand from his jeans pocket and then he’s dragging you away from the group, not even bothering to mumble an excuse.

It's busy enough in the bar that no-one really notices his purposeful strides through them. No-one notices when you slink by the side of the bar and down the small hallway. No-one is around to see him push you into the small bathroom and lock the door behind you.

Your back is pressed against the wall and he’s on you in seconds once he’s sure no-one is going to burst in through the door. His hands are cupping your cheeks, it’s a softness that is completely opposite to the way his lips are moving against yours. They’re pressed to yours almost painfully, your hands are gripping the lapels of his jacket to pull him closer to you, if it were even possible.

You open your mouth against his and all at once his tongue is in your mouth. The taste of him is overwhelming, whiskey mainly, but the telltale taste that’s just Joel. Your tongue is on his and at this point you don’t know where you end and he begins, it’s always so overwhelming. His hands drop from your face to hold your hips through the denim of your jeans. His mouth is pulling from yours and you’re whining at the loss of contact.

“We don’t have much time, darlin’,” He muses, turning you so your front is facing the sink of the bathroom, there’s a small mirror in which you can see you both, “We gotta be quick, okay?” You nod, “And quiet.”

You nod again, and then he’s reaching around and undoing the button of your jeans, pulling the zipper down before he’s yanking them and your underwear down to your ankles.

“Touch yourself for me,” He demands as he moves back from you, you follow his orders and dip your fingers down to your pussy, you’re already slick, “Tell me how wet you are for me alright.”

“Joel-” You moan as you bring the gathered slick up to rub circles on your clit, “I’m soaked for you baby.”

“Of course you are,” you watch as he grins at you in the mirror, hearing him undo his belt, “You always are.”

You can hear him shedding his own jeans behind you and excitement pools in your belly, he really is going to fuck you in the bathroom with people just a few feet away. You feel his hands palm the globes of your ass, before one of them dips to your pussy, testing your claim that you’re soaked for him.

“You weren’t lyin’ were you?” He chuckles as he pushed two fingers inside of you, eliciting a loud moan from your mouth as the intrusion mixes with the pleasure of your fingers on your clit, “Shhhh. There are people in the other room, baby.”

“It’s hard, Joel.” You whimper, referencing the need to be quiet.

“It certainly is darlin’,” You’re watching him in the mirror as you feel his cock nudge at your weeping entrance, “All because of you.”

“I wasn’t-” You try and talk, but he’s already sliding the tip of his cock inside you, “Ohhhh fuck Joel.”

“You like that, darlin’?” He asks once he’s fully sheathed in your tight heat, you lift your head and catch his eyes in the mirror, your mouth is hanging open as he starts moving out of you, “You look like you do.” He fucking winks at you then and you swear you almost die on the spot.

“Oh my god Joel just fuck me already.” You’re begging now and one of his hands flies to your mouth to cover it.

“What did I say about bein’ quiet?!” He hisses into your ear, “You gotta keep your mouth shut if I’m gonna have to stop darlin’, you understand?” Another nod from you.

His hand doesn’t leave your mouth, but he starts a punishing pace of thrusts into you from behind. It’s your favourite position, Joel always seems to reach as deep as is humanely possible when he takes you from behind and tonight is no exception. You can feel him hitting that sweet spot inside of you, add that to the circles you haven’t ceased drawing on your clit and you’re close. So very close.

“Joel-” You mumble against the palm of his hand, he moves it slightly so he can hear you, “I’m so fucking close.”

He chuckles again, still thrusting his cock inside you before he speaks, “Don’t hold back on my account.”

It’s all the permission you needed, his palm straight back over your mouth as you fall over the edge. You can feel your pussy fluttering around him as you rub yourself through the aftershocks of your orgasm and you can hear his own grunts from behind you. It’s always like this, once your tight heat is clenching around him he’s never far behind you.

“Darlin’, you feel so fucking good like this,” He whispers into your ear, “Gonna come for you baby.”

Another moan, yet again muffled by the skin of his palm. You groan at the emptiness you feel when he’s pulling from your pussy, you know he’s fisting his cock behind you and within seconds you can feel the warmth of his cum spreading over your backside – thick ropes of it painting your skin as he lowly groans out your name.

There’s always a moment like this with the two of you, in the moments after you’ve both tipped yourselves into oblivion, when you’re silent save for the heaving of you both trying to catch your breath. This time it’s interrupted by someone trying the handle of the door and then loudly knocking on it.

“Gimme a minute!” Joel calls out, moving quickly to gather some paper towels from behind him.

He’s usually softer with this part, but he’s running the towels quickly over your skin to wipe the remnants of his spend from your skin. Then he’s roughly pulling your jeans up – you catch them halfway and finish dressing yourself whilst he does the same behind you. You’re about to reach for the lock on the door when his hand catches your wrist.

He’s pressing a soft kiss to the corner of your mouth, letting his hand softly run through your hair, “I promise I’ll take my time with you later, darlin’,” He’s smiling before letting your wrist go, “Ladies first.”

You silently groan as you unlock the door and pull the door open. There’s a man stood against the wall that you don’t recognize, maybe he’s knew – what an impression to make. His eyes widen in realization when he sees Joel follow you out of the bathroom with a grin on his face, “Sorry, didn’t mean to keep you waiting,” He’s grinning like the cat that got the cream, “Enjoy the rest of your night.”

“Enjoy the rest of your night?” You’re hissing as you walk back into the main room of the bar, “You’re such a dick sometimes.”

“What?” He’s laughing now, “I know I’ll enjoy mine, just wanted to make sure he did too.”

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