Tumgik
#trying to be better about my boundaries with some
wheresarizona · 2 days
Text
Tumblr media
but I would die for you in secret
Part 2
summary: The relationship you have with Joel Miller is less complicated now that he’s going to tell Ellie that you’ve been secretly seeing each other for months. You thought their discussion would go well, but when you get home from work to a note on your front door from Joel that reads, ‘Come over, we need to talk,’ it has you immediately thinking the worst—up until he answers his door in nothing but a towel and drags you inside to fuck your brains out for the first time in his bed.
pairing: Joel Miller/f!reader
rating: E (18+!! No y/n, explicit smut, age gap (unspecified, reader is an adult), Possessive Joel Miller, Dominant Joel Miller, Joel Miller has a big dick, oral sex (m receiving), deepthroating (he tells you to choke on it (in a good way)), unprotected p in v (wrap it up!), creampie, breeding kink, rough sex, dirty talk (so much), spit mention, biting, spanking, whatever the kink is where you’re turned on by good dads, Joel in just a towel, pregnancy discussion, fluff, the last 3k words in Ellie’s pov (truly delightful), Good Parent Joel Miller, Ellie giving Joel so much shit, Joel giving Ellie shit, Ellie and Joel having the best discussions, TLOU AU where Joel doesn’t lie to Ellie and they’re good when they get back to Jackson)
word count: 11.1k+
a/n: Yes, I did make my own gif because I was too lazy to try and hunt for it. I really, really wanted to write about what happened after the last chapter, and here we are. I think this will be the last one. Thank you to the love of my life @juletheghoul for betaing!
Thank you for reading! Comments and reblogs feed me. I’d love to know what you thought!
Prev - Series Masterlist - Masterlist
Tumblr media
The sun hadn’t risen when Joel Miller left your bed this morning.
That's how it usually was, him coming and going in the dark so no one sees him leave his house to come to yours across the street—the nights you spend together are bathed in secrecy, the two of you inhabiting your own little world, confined to the space of your home.
Why the sneaking around?
He didn’t want his daughter, Ellie, to know of his relationship with you. Over the many months you’ve been together, he’s let you in on much of what she had gone through before they got to Jackson. You understood that he’s all she has, and he’s worried that if he started openly dating, she’d think she isn’t as important to him as before or feel like Joel’s abandoning her. That’s the main reason he didn't want her to know, but with how often he brings up you being so much younger than him, and all the times he’s said you should be with someone your own age, you felt that he’s also ashamed of how old you are.
At least, that’s what you thought until the night before when he revealed his feelings for you and told you he wasn’t ashamed of you or the large gap in your ages.
When this all began, Joel was clear that all he could give you was his body—he was emotionally unavailable because he was too focused on taking care of Ellie.
Amazing sex with no strings attached? You were okay with that.
Except it wasn’t something casual, and there were strings attached.
You don’t just occasionally hook up with Joel; no, he’s at your place most nights and some days without his daughter knowing. You also can’t go out with anyone else, not that you want to—he doesn’t share or like when other men are interested in you. You aren’t any better, hating when women flirt with him, especially his next-door neighbor Sandra, who refuses to acknowledge he doesn’t want her.
Why does she, specifically, annoy you so much?
Not only does she shamelessly flirt with Joel any chance she gets, but she also touches him, her hand always ending up on his arm that he shrugs off, making him growl at her not to touch him. Does she listen? No, she still does it every time she runs into him, and it pisses you off that she doesn’t respect his boundaries. Plus, there was an incident a couple of months after he moved to Jackson where she got him over to her house under the false pretense of needing something fixed and then basically jumped him—she kissed him without his permission and came onto him, which he was not into and had him leaving immediately. He can’t stand her, and he’s been very firm with her that he’s not interested. If what she does to Joel isn’t bad enough, she creeps the fuck out of Ellie, and that pisses you off even more. You’ve lost count of how many times you’ve saved the kid from talking to her; the look on Ellie’s face that screams she wants to be anywhere other than with Sandra makes your hackles rise, and a need comes over you to get the girl out of there as quickly as possible.
Has anything ever happened between Joel and Sandra to make her delusional enough to think if she keeps harassing him and his daughter, he’ll eventually want to be with her?
From what you understand, Tommy and Maria tried to set them up when he first arrived, but he declined; it truly was a case of right place, wrong time. He was polite when he rejected her and explained that his daughter needed him and that he had zero interest in starting a relationship with someone. Back then, he was completely occupied with taking care of Ellie, and dating was out of the question; it didn’t even cross his mind or was something he wanted. He was content with his fresh start in Jackson, alone with his kid to help her heal.
Why did Joel accept your advances the first time you met?
Right place, right time.
Once you moved to town, the father and daughter were settled to the point that Ellie was doing great in adjusting to life in Wyoming, and Joel felt he could finally do something for himself; you were tempting enough that he wanted to be selfish. He liked that you didn’t reek of desperation or made him feel pressured, neither of you doing anything that made the other uncomfortable. Obviously, there was a mutual attraction between you two, and the flirting went both ways; his head was already leaning toward yours when you went in for the first kiss, which he happily reciprocated.
What it came down to was he trusted you, and you were willing to do things on his terms.
And, of course, as it usually happens, feelings did develop—as his kid got better and more comfortable with living in Jackson, Joel opened up to you little by little, offering a tiny bit more of himself with each passing day and your relationship became confusing; it wasn’t only sex anymore; hasn’t been just that for a while, and it took you both over eight months to admit you’re in love, and for Joel to decide it’s time to tell Ellie, so he could actually be with you out in the open.
So, he left your bed before the sun had risen in order to be home before she woke up—that way, she wouldn’t be confused by his absence. He also planned on talking to her about what was going on between you two.
There’s this ritual he does before he leaves each morning that you’ve chalked up to him being from a different time and big on manners; your two previous sexual partners were closer to your age and nowhere near as courteous as him.
The slightest sounds will wake you, a side effect of surviving, and the moment the mattress springs squeak as he gets up, hours before you need to, your consciousness is coming back to you to assess if there’s any danger. Your ears perk at the rustle of him dressing in the dark, and you’ve learned not to spook when the blankets are pulled up to cover your bare body that gets tucked in. The kiss pressed to your hair always makes you smile at the sweetness, and you expect the whispered goodbye he says before he goes.
This morning, you didn’t expect the added ‘Love you’ at the end, which had your eyes opening and hand shooting out from under the covers to grab his, tugging him toward you. He knew what you wanted, chuckling as he leaned down to kiss your lips. You told him you loved him, too, when he straightened and started to leave, and he stopped at the doorway to get one last look at you under the dim light filtering through the gaps in your curtains from the street lamp outside, then headed home.
It’s safe to say your morning started off pretty great, and even though you didn’t see Joel after he left, the rest of your day wasn’t half bad either; it took a little turn when you got back to your house after working your job teaching at the school to a note from him on your door that read:
Come over
We need to talk
A romantic partner saying you needed to talk was never good, and worry knotted up in your belly like a ball, thinking things with Ellie didn’t go well when he told her about your relationship, and now he’s going to break up with you.
The first time you stopped by his place, you’d made the mistake of knocking; he was home alone and hadn’t known you were at the door until you rang the doorbell. It was adorable how he’d been a little embarrassed he didn’t hear you and pointed at his right ear to explain he had hearing loss. From then on, you always made sure to ring the doorbell, and you did so again, standing on his porch in the freezing cold with your winter coat on and worrying your lip between your teeth.
There’s the faint sound of him yelling from inside, “One minute!” thinking he’s upstairs, which is confirmed when you hear his heavy footsteps coming down the stairs. The deadbolt clicks as it’s unlocked, and the door is cracked open; Joel’s face appears, the rest of his body hidden.
He looks relieved to see you, and that’s a good sign. “Thank Christ, it’s you,” he says, opening the door some more to take your hand pulling you inside. The front door gets slammed shut, and your back is suddenly pressed against it, a surprised sound leaving your throat when his mouth crashes into yours, kissing you hard.
This is an even better sign that everything is okay.
He’s never kissed you in his house before.
One of his big palms cradles your face, the other locking the deadbolt beside you before it glides up your jacket-covered front to squeeze your breast. Your lips part to allow his tongue to delve inside and tangle with your own, looping your arms around his neck automatically. This kiss has your brain fritzing out, unable to think about anything except how he’s claimed you with his lips and tongue so fiercely and possessively while his large body cages you in. It’s embarrassing how long it takes a coherent thought to come through, and when it does, you’re lightly pushing at his chest, the surprise of bare skin under your hand causing you to break your mouth away to look at his body immediately.
A disappointed noise comes from him, and your eyes go wide at what you see.
“You’re naked,” you whisper.
His hand lightly holds your throat as he starts kissing along your jaw. “I’m not naked—I’m wearin’ a towel.”
That’s true. The faded blue towel is wrapped tightly around his waist, stopping just before it reaches his knees. His upper body is entirely bare, with pink and silvery scars etched all over his skin. No matter how many times you see him naked, you’re always so surprised by his broadness—it’s not a trick of his clothing or lighting that makes him appear big; he is that big.
“Still pretty naked.” You remember the thought you had. “Is Ellie home?”
“No,” he says into your skin. “She’s with Cat—” Her best friend. “—and they’re meetin’ us for dinner later.” His mouth is at your ear, feeling his hot breath, and shivering when he rasps into it, “Now, stop worryin’ about her, and let me take you up to my room so I can finally fuck you in my bed—I’ve been dyin’ to break it in with you.”
The proposition makes your cunt clench, and you’re interested in seeing his bedroom—he’s never invited you upstairs.
“Is this why you really wanted me to come over, to christen your bed?”
He pulls back to meet your gaze. “Didn’t want to scandalize the neighbors by puttin’ it in writin’, but yes.” His eyes darken as he slowly unzips your coat. “You comin’ up with me?” His voice deepens, nudging his nose against yours. “Since you’re my guest, we’ll do whatever you want.”
Joel always considers what you want, but he also seems instinctively aware of what you need—that’s the great thing about being with someone so much older and experienced; he knows how to play your body and make you feel so good that you’re happy to go along for the incredible ride.
With him saying you’ll do whatever you want, he’s letting you call the shots.
Your eyebrow raises. “Anything?”
“Within reason.” He kisses your chin, your skin tingling under his lips.
“Is there anything we did last night that’s not within reason…?”
The previous night, you weren’t expecting to see Joel because he’d been taking care of a sick Ellie for the prior few days. When he arrived at your place unannounced, he found you trying to make yourself come on your fingers and ordered you to finish as he jerked off, watching you. Then he fucked your brains out until your limbs were jelly and surprised you by asking if he could come inside you—something he avoided in the past and had only accidentally happened a handful of times.
His head moves to look you in the eyes.
“No.” He shakes his head. “It’s all within reason.”
That sentence excites you. “Let’s go,” you say quickly. He chuckles and helps you remove your jacket, hanging it on the nearby coat rack, which only has a few other items.
He grabs your hand and leads you up the stairs, the third step from the top creaking loudly under each of your weights.
You’re not entirely sure what you’re expecting his bedroom to be like, but when you walk into it, you take a moment glancing around at everything; there’s his queen-sized bed that’s neatly made, he’s got a record player over in the corner with a stack of vinyl records next to it, a couple of landscape paintings of pastures decorate his walls, there’s a walk-in closet not even close to full of clothes, his own private bathroom, and on top of his dresser is a few framed photos—one of Ellie playing guitar, beside that, Joel and her standing next to each other laughing. The third has you walking over to pick it up.
“Joel?”
He’s shut the door, and his bare feet pad across the floor, moving toward you.
“Yeah?”
“If you didn’t want Ellie to know about us, why do you have a picture of me and her in your room?”
It was taken at the town party celebrating the harvest and shows Ellie sitting beside you at a table, leaning into you with her head against your shoulder as you both smile at the camera.
“She doesn’t come in here.”
He’s next to you, and you look over at him.
“But what if she had?”
“Wouldn’t have mattered.” He shrugs and takes the photo from you, setting it back down in its spot.
You turn to face him, crossing your arms over your chest, and his eyes lock onto your bosom.
“What do you mean it wouldn’t have mattered?”
It takes him too long to answer, and you realize he’s distracted, so you wave your hand in front of his face. “Focus, Joel.” His gaze goes to yours.
“What?”
“What do you mean it wouldn’t have mattered if Ellie saw the picture?”
“I mean, it wouldn’t have mattered; it wouldn’t have revealed anythin’ she didn’t already know.”
“How long?”
His face pinches in confusion. “Huh?”
“How long has she known about us?”
His hands sit on his hips, and his weight goes to one side, a crease appearing between his eyebrows.
“I don’t want you gettin’ mad at me when I tell you ‘cause I had no idea she was aware; if I’d known, it would’ve been made clear long ago to everyone you’re mine. Understood?”
It’s said with such conviction it leaves zero doubt that it’s the truth, and it feels like your skin is vibrating at the fact he’s really going to make sure all of Jackson knows that you’re together now.
You smile. “God, that’s hot—yes, I understand.”
“Good—she clocked us pretty much from the beginnin’.”
“Of course she did,” you reply. “I had a feeling she’s known for a while, but since the beginning? I am both impressed and very annoyed. Why didn’t she tell you she knew?”
He grimaces. “She thought it was a subject we avoided...” He scrubs a hand over his face and sighs. “I guess I’m cagey when Tess comes up, mostly ‘cause I don’t even know what that relationship was, and since I never said anythin’ about you, she figured we don’t talk about our romantic partners.”
Your eyes round. “Our? Is Ellie dating someone?”
His hand lowers, and he smiles, nodding. “She said I could tell you—Ellie’s way better at the secret girlfriend stuff than I am.”
“Cat?”
His eyebrows dip down. “How’d you know?”
“Ellie looks at Cat the same way you look at me.”
A long sigh leaves him. “So, it’s true.” He sounds defeated, his shoulders slumping.
“What’s true?”
“When she was pointin’ out how obvious we’ve been, she gave me shit for starin’ at you with, she called ‘em ‘googly eyes,’ whatever the fuck that means.”
You snort and step into his space, wrapping your arms around his neck, Joel’s hands holding your hips.
“It’s this way you look at me, and I couldn’t quite figure out what it was until you told me you loved me last night, and I realized it’s love; devotion—your eyes show the truth of what you’re feeling, and good news, babe.”
“What’s that?”
“You can give her shit for having googly eyes like her father.”
That seems to cheer him up, and honestly, it’s cute.
“She’s gonna hate knowin’ that—I can’t wait to tell her.”
You giggle. “So, Ellie’s really okay with us?”
“She is.” He nods.
“Good—this might sound weird.” You can’t look at him as you say this and focus on a patch of freckles on his shoulder, heat creeping up your neck. “But, um, you being a great dad and loving your kids so much—” He’s told you about Sarah. “—really does it for me. There’s something about it that’s incredibly attractive.”
“Yeah?” He ducks his head to press his lips over your pulse point, peppering kisses up your neck; his hand slides down between your legs where your warmth is felt through your jeans, rubbing over your sex. It makes you gulp, excitement sparking in your tummy.
“Yes.”
His mouth reaches your ear, tugging the lobe lightly between his teeth. His warm breath fans against your skin when he hovers his lips to whisper, “I think I know why.“
Your heartbeat thuds in your chest and pulses in your core to the same beat, feeling your need for him drip into your panties.
“W-why?”
He speaks in a huskier tone, “You know that havin’ my babies means they’d get a good father, and you have nothin’ to worry about when I fill your perfect little pussy with my come.”
Pleasure cuts through you sharp as a knife, and you moan.
“Yeah, I know you like it—is that what you want tonight, sweetheart? Want me to stuff you full?”
What he’s saying is making your skin so hot that your clothes are stifling, and you want him more than anything; you need him to ease the ache in your center.
“God, yes.”
“Then I’ll give it to you.”
You’re wondering what’s changed that suddenly has him unbothered about the possibility of getting you pregnant when he actively tried to prevent it previously—something you’ll have to inquire about later because it seems Joel’s had enough talking as his lips capture yours in a searing kiss, and he pulls your body flush against his.
It’s consuming and exhilarating.
No one has ever made you feel the way he does—the all-encompassing fiery passion that has arousal burning like an inferno in your belly, needing him so badly you think you might die if you don’t feel him inside you.
Wouldn’t that be a way to go? Dying of desperation from not getting Joel Miller’s dick—sounds kind of nice compared to the alternatives in today’s world.
You’ve also never been with someone his age.
There was this girl a little older than you that you met on your travels—you don’t find very many friendly people out in the wilds, and she joined you for maybe a week before she headed west toward Seattle. She told you one evening, as you sat by a fire under the stars together, that hands down, the best sex she ever had was with an older guy who was in his early thirties when the outbreak happened. She went on about how generous he was in actually making her come and that he knew exactly what to do; the entire experience was apparently life-changing. She swore she’d never get with anyone younger again, and you were intrigued.
When you asked her if it was weird fucking a guy old enough to be her father, she gave you a funny look, and you’ll never forget what she said:
“Ain’t nothing weird about two consenting adults having a good time.”
She had a point.
When Joel showed up at your door looking so incredibly handsome soon after you moved to Jackson, the conversation with that girl came to mind, and you decided to see if she was right, and dear god, this man in his late fifties has ruined you for anyone else—he was the first person to go down on you, he was the first person other than yourself to get you off, he was the first person to come inside you; the last one was an accident and it shocked you how much the risk turned you on.
You can’t imagine being with anyone else after him.
The kissing heats up, practically all tongues at this point, Joel’s straining cock beneath the towel pressing against you, and it’s always incredibly sexy the way he knows just what you need without you having to say a word—in less than a minute, he's stripped you of all your clothes, and has you on your back in the middle of his mattress, Joel on his knees between your spread legs, and leaning down, with your pebbled nipple sucked between his lips.
He has both of your breasts in his hands while he laves at one and then the other, the nibble of his teeth on the sensitive buds causing your pussy to weep for him, your fingers clutched in his damp, grey hair.
"Oh my god, Joel," you moan.
He loves worshipping your tits, and if you let him, he’ll play with them for hours; the problem is today, you’re on a time crunch since you have dinner plans, and you want a chance to make him feel good, too.
Your hands tug on his messy waves to get his attention, saying, "Let me suck your dick."
His head lifts, and you're met with dark eyes, his lips shiny with spit. The cool air hitting your wet skin causes goosebumps to rise.
"You want my dick in your mouth?" he asks.
“Yes, please.”
“Okay.” He grunts as he pushes himself up to kneel. He’s still wearing the towel, which is tenting in the front.
You eagerly sit up and get on your knees, shuffling toward him, and when you’re close enough, he can’t seem to help himself, his palms holding your face as he passionately kisses you. Your hands snake between your bodies to unwrap the towel around his waist, tossing it to the side without a care, and you wrap your fingers around his length that’s hard as steel and velvety smooth, feeling hot to the touch.
He nips at your bottom lip when he ends the kiss, and without another word, you’re moving back enough to get on all fours, holding your weight on one arm while your other hand grips around the base of him, and then he’s in your mouth—his girth has you opening as wide as you can, your lips stretching to their limit. He’s heavy on your tongue, taking more and more of him as you bob your head.
“That’s it, baby,” he groans. “Fuckin’ love that mouth of yours.”
Saliva is dribbling down his shaft, lubricating every stroke of your palm over what can’t fit in your mouth, his large hand guiding your head up and down his dick.
“Spit on it,” he commands. You hover your lips over him, gathering saliva on your tongue, and looking up at him through your lashes as you let it drip onto the tip of him—his pupils are blown so wide, there’s hardly any brown remaining, a gorgeous pink flush crawling up his chest and neck to paint his stubbled cheeks.
He’s watching you, his chest rumbling when you take him back into your mouth and fondle his sack in your palm.
When you first met, you were pretty inexperienced when it came to sex—you’d only slept with two men, and it hadn’t been very pleasurable on either occasion. Then Joel came along and showed you how good it could be and let you experiment to figure out what you did and didn’t enjoy. He also walked you through what he liked, which is why you know how he’s going to respond as you suck him off and gently tug on his balls. “Fuucckk,” he says in a drawn-out moan, and it has electricity dancing down your spine that you’re making him feel so good.
You go back to jerking him, your hand moving easily, twisting on the upstroke along his spit-slick cock, while bobbing your head, feeling him slide along the broad flat of your tongue to hit the back of your throat—you’re making appreciative noises that vibrate against his skin, loving him in your mouth, and how vocal he is in his enjoyment, Joel groaning, his breaths getting heavier, and slowly thrusting his hips.
You come off of him, licking a stripe from root to tip, tracing a bulging vein with your tongue, and circling the sensitive edges of the head. His cock throbs in your hand as you hold it out of the way to go lower and suck one of his balls into your mouth, massaging it with your tongue before giving the second the same treatment.
His voice is a deep baritone, the words thick with desire. “You’re so fuckin’ good to me.”
Licking back up, you swirl around the tip and sink down again, hollowing your cheeks.
His hand easily covers yours low on his shaft to keep it and himself still, his other palm going to the back of your head. “Choke on it, baby—take it down that pretty throat.”
This time when he fills your mouth and hits the back of your throat, you relax, swallowing around him, taking as much of him into the tight space as you can, and there’s enough of him that won’t fit for your fingers to wrap around—his other hand clutches your hair as he keeps your head from moving, your eyes watering, drool spilling from the corners of your lips, while his hard cock fills your throat. You’re doing the best you can to breathe through your nose.
He’s panting. “That’s fuckin’ it—so fuckin’ beautiful with my dick down your throat.” His fingers go around your neck to feel it bulge. “You love havin' my cock fillin' you, don’t you? Your pussy, your throat, you're hungry for it and can't get enough 'cause no one can make you feel as good as I do, isn’t that right?” You moan in agreement, his shaft pulsing on the flat of your tongue. “God, you make the prettiest noises for me.”
You swallow around him, and his punched-out groan has your cunt clenching hard on nothing, a layer of slick coating your inner thighs.
“Stop,” he orders, pulling you off of him and causing you to sputter. “I’m not comin’ in your mouth.”
The statement has a sharp spike of arousal erupting low in your stomach because you know this means he’s going to finish inside you, and it has you wanting him with every fiber of your being.
He gets you up on your knees, holding your chin as he smashes his lips to yours, his tongue slipping inside where he sucks on your own. Your heart is hammering in your chest, moaning as the fingers of his free hand pinch and roll your stiff nipple, and you’re trying to convince your lungs that you’ll be okay without oxygen for another minute when his mouth suddenly leaves yours. Your chin is still cradled in his palm, Joel’s breaths coming out hard as he shoves his face against the side of yours and lightly bites the apple of your cheek before his lips are at your ear.
The sides of your faces are touching, his stubble prickling against your skin. “Now what?” he asks. Anticipation has you practically vibrating. “You got to suck my dick, what do you want now? You’re in charge—my fingers? Want me to eat your pussy? Or my cock without me loosenin’ you up so you’ll feel it tomorrow?” He smacks your ass with his other palm, and you gasp. “Tell me.”
Joel is very well-endowed, especially in terms of girth, and he’s aware of this fact; unless you tell him not to, he always gets you off before he fucks you, so it relaxes your muscles and makes it easier to take him. Right now, you need him inside you too much to have the patience for any more foreplay, so be it if you’re a little uncomfortable tomorrow.
You swallow before you answer. “Dick, please.”
“How do you want it?”
“Your choice.”
“You got it, baby.”
He grabs a handful of your asscheek, then gives it a spank and kisses your cheek, letting go of your chin to slide his fingers through the slick lips of your sex, his face coming into your line of sight.
It’s clear in his darkened eyes how much he wants you.
“You get so fuckin’ wet for me,” he says and presses two thick fingers inside you, your mouth falling open when he starts pumping. The tips press into something magical you can never reach, no matter how many times you try. “This needy pussy can’t get enough of my dick,” he continues. “You want it? Want me to stretch you open? Make you feel it tomorrow and come so deep in your sweet little cunt I’m drippin’ from you for days?”
He has you feeling so hot you think you might combust.
“Yes.”
A quick kiss is pressed to your lips. “Hands and knees,” he orders, slipping his fingers out of you.
His way of helping you get into position is manhandling you until your hands and knees sink into the mattress with him behind you—he fucked you hard face down, ass up the night before, and you’re wondering if he’s going to give you an encore.
His fingers dig into your asscheeks as he spreads them and spits on your pussy, feeling the hot saliva start to drip, and hearing him repeat the action on his digits, that he uses to wet his cock. Joel slides himself through your folds and presses to your entrance, your hips pushing back enough to engulf the tip of him—a palm lands on your ass with a loud smack, the sting causing your head to fall forward between your shoulders with a moan, his other hand firm on your waist to stop your movements.
“Don’t be greedy,” he grumbles, slapping your ass again. “I gotta go slow so I don’t hurt you.”
You whine because you want him inside you already.
“You’re real fuckin’ needy today,” he says and slowly begins pushing in. There’s a slight burn as your tight walls stretch around him to accommodate his size, the ache in your core dissipating with every inch he feeds into your pussy. “Jesus Christ,” his tone is strained. “You’re so much tighter when I don’t make you come first—you’re chokin’ me.” Your fingers are clawing at the bedspread, your heart’s pounding, and sweat is starting to bead on your skin. There’s one word repeating over and over in your head: Big.
He takes his time; the seconds that tick by feel like hours, and once he’s fully sheathed inside you, you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding in—the familiar fullness satisfies the overwhelming need you had and has something purring in the back of your mind that this is right; it’s perfect how he fills you. He was right; there’s no one else on the entire planet who could satisfy you like he does.
His large palm slides halfway up your spine. “You’re doin’ great for me, baby,” he rasps. “Takin’ me so well. Now, I’m gonna make you feel good.”
And the fact you know he is has your cunt throbbing incessantly around him.
His hands hold your waist, and he does an experimental thrust, your answering moan encouraging him to start moving—he’s slow at first, rocking his hips and letting you feel every ridge and vein on his thick cock as it moves in and out of you.
He’s pressing into heavenly spots you didn’t know existed before him, loving how deep in your depths he reaches. The waves of arousal he’s coaxing from you is soaking his dick and easing his movements.
“God, I love bein’ inside you,” he says and slaps your ass; you clamp down on him, and he groans. “You feel so damn good—fit me like a fuckin’ glove.”
You fuck yourself back on him as you whine, “It’s yours!”
He grits through his teeth, “Yes. It. Is.” Punctuating each word with a hard thrust that knocks the wind from your lungs. “It’s. Mine. You’re mine.”
His rhythm speeds up, a steady slap of his hips against yours that echoes in the room, Joel grunting with each stroke and your moans coming unbidden. Your ass is jiggling from the onslaught, your head is dizzy with pleasure, and heat is growing at the base of your spine, threatening to explode.
This is how you like it, getting fucked senseless.
You squeak in surprise when gun-calloused fingers grip your upper arms at the bend of your elbows and pull you up, making you arch your back, Joel tugging you back each time he thrusts forward, pounding into you hard enough your eyes roll back in your head, and your mouth opens in a silent cry—his rough sounds are slipping through his bared teeth and obscene squelching is coming from where he’s fucking into you at an unforgiving pace.
You’re quivering around him, your entire body shaking, quaking, as he pummels a spot that’s making stars dance behind your eyelids, the muscles in your belly tightening, winding, building you up higher and higher. Your skin is hot and buzzing like every nerve in your body is lit up, a thin layer of sweat coating the entirety of it.
His breathing is ragged, and he grits out the question, “Are you gonna come for me?” He doesn’t slow down. “I can feel you squeezin’ me—I know you’re close.”
His hands have an iron grip on you. Noise finally leaves your lips in stuttered moans, and you’re losing your mind at how fucking good it feels—you’re not going to last much longer.
“Once you go,” he says, “you’re takin’ me with you, and I’m fillin’ you up.”
The reminder has white-hot pleasure scorching in your abdomen, and you’re coming undone, shouting his name as your climax hits and euphoria takes over every molecule in your body.
A choked sound comes from behind you, and you get pulled back flush to him, Joel’s arm locking over your chest with his hand squeezing one of your tits while the other wraps around your throat, his lips pressing to your ear as he raggedly groans “There we fuckin’ go.” His teeth sink into your earlobe as his hips stutter, and he buries himself one last time as far as he can in your depths, whining as he comes—his cock pulses and twitches hard as he releases deep inside you, spurts and spurts of his come filling your inner walls.
There’s a chance you’ve left Earth with how you feel like you’re floating, your brain completely empty of thoughts—you’re not sure you could think if you even tried, let alone move.
You register being laid down on your side and the warm body curling around your back; an arm is over your middle, and your breast is being held in a large palm, feeling so relaxed you think you might fall asleep.
A minute passes.
Five.
Ten.
There’s a loud snore behind you.
“Joel?” It’s embarrassing how it comes out as a croak.
No response—of course, there’s no response, his left ear is pressed to the mattress, and he can barely hear out of the right. You rub your hand along his arm and lightly tap it.
He goes eerily quiet, and you know he’s awoken, but he’s taking a second to assess where he is. Joel sits up a little. “Somethin’ wrong, honey?”
Your torso slightly twists toward him, looking over your shoulder. His eyes are filled with concern when they meet yours.
“Nothing’s wrong,” you reassure him and pat his forearm. “You fell asleep, and we can’t be late meeting Ellie. Otherwise, she’ll come looking for us, and we don’t need to scar the poor girl with her finding out her dad has a very active sex life.”
He snorts, his lips turning up. “She’s not dumb—she knows why I’m at your place every night.”
“She assumes the reason you come over—it’s one thing to assume and another to know for sure, and the second one, when it happens, will probably make her puke and then look at you with disgust for a while.”
He frowns, and you can tell he’s thinking hard. “I never brought women around Sarah…” he says. “I mean, when she was older, she knew, on the incredibly rare occasions I did, that I was goin’ on dates, but that was all. I never had long-term girlfriends.”
That’s something you’re aware of. He’s told you about some of his previous relationships, including Tess. When he was younger, before the world ended, he only had a few girlfriends that didn’t last long and a lot of one-night stands; Sarah’s mom was a fling in his early twenties who disappeared as soon as their daughter was born—she didn’t want to be a mother at such a young age, and only had the baby because she couldn’t stand the guilt of the alternative.
“Oh, so Ellie knowing me and being aware we’re together is new territory for you. How does that make you feel?”
“Real fuckin’ lucky I found someone she likes and who understands that she’s my top priority—the other women I dated couldn’t stand playin’ second fiddle to Sarah even though I was always upfront that she came first before anyone else, the same thing I told you from the get-go about Ellie.”
“And that makes complete sense to me. I know I’m important to you, but it’s different; she’s your child, who you’re responsible for, so she takes precedence. After all the shit she’s been through, it’s great she found a father who loves and cares about her so much.”
He smiles. “And that’s one of the reasons I fell in love with you—you get it and were more than willin’ to be with me in secret to protect her.”
You smirk. “True, it didn’t hurt that the sex is fucking spectacular, too.”
He chuckles, and you find yourself on your back with him half on top of you, happily kissing you.
Your words are muffled against his lips. “I need to ask you something.”
There’s one last kiss, then his pretty face hovers over yours.
“What do you wanna ask that’s more important than me kissin’ you?”
“Something that I need to know after everything that’s happened in the last twenty-four hours.”
His mouth downturns, and his eyebrows furrow. “Is somethin’ wrong…?”
“No, no, everything’s great,” you tell him and slide your fingers through the curls above his ears. “Has your feelings on children changed? Like, in terms of having more…?”
From the beginning, he was clear that he didn’t want any more kids, and it stressed him out whenever he accidentally finished inside you; you’d think that would put him off sleeping with you again, but he couldn’t stay away, and told you, when asked what would happen if you got pregnant, that you’d figure it out and you didn’t need to worry about him abandoning you—the last part always made you wonder how he’d be involved in your baby’s life with Ellie unaware you were together, and the only thing you could imagine was out in public, Joel taking on the role of your close friend your child calls their uncle, which is pretty depressing to think about.
He’s got an arm beside your head, holding himself up, and his other palm strokes along your cheek, his eyes softening.
“A lot has changed since I met you—you’ve turned my world on its head, sweetheart.” He smiles. “I know I swore I’d never bring another life into this world after losin’ Sarah, but Ellie came along, and I love gettin’ to be a dad again.” The fond look on his face is proof of that. “I really do. She’s a pain in my ass, but I love her, and now that we’re done hidin’ and can finally have a life with everyone knowin’ we’re together, there won’t be any doubt that it’s my baby if you got pregnant.”
Something about that excites you that he wants it to be clear he’s the father of your kid—for a second, you imagine what a child with him would look like, and it makes your heart squeeze at the thought of seeing tiny versions of his eyes and cheeks; would they inherit his elusive dimple?
“I know I’m too fuckin’ old to be takin’ care of a newborn,” he continues, “but I like the idea of havin’ one with you, and I think you’d love it. You’re so good with Ellie and all those little kids you teach. I can tell you want one of your own, don’t you?”
“Yes.”
He smiles.
“Yeah, you do. You’d be a great mom. When I realized I was gonna talk to Ellie the other day and tell her about us, I thought this was somethin’ I could give you; it’s some kind of future, maybe not what you deserve, but it’s what I can offer. And it’s reassurin’ you’re gonna live a helluva lot longer than I will, so I know that if anythin’ happens to me, my children will still have their mother, along with Ellie, who I think would love bein’ a sister. So, to answer your question, yes, my feelings on havin’ more children has changed, but only with you—you’re the only woman I’d want to have a baby with.”
This revelation has you beyond excited—you’d love to have a child with him.
“It’s crazy that yesterday I didn’t know how to define what our relationship was—I knew I loved you, I just wasn’t sure if you felt the same, and today, we’re officially a couple and talking about having babies. At this rate, I’ll be moving in with you tomorrow.”
“Do you wanna?” he asks, looking completely serious.
Your eyes widen as you stare. “What? I was joking, Joel.”
“And I’m not jokin’, especially about havin’ you here all the time. I don’t want us livin’ separately if we do the baby thing, and you know I’m almost done remodelin’ the garage out back into an apartment for Ellie.”
Joel was pretty upset the night he came over after Ellie asked about having her own living space. It happened two or three months into seeing each other, and he’d been distraught that she was at an age where she wanted more independence and didn’t want to spend as much time with him now that she had friends—something else he never got to experience with Sarah and it really twisted the knife in his gut. There was no way the town council would give a teenager a house, so Joel agreed to convert the garage into an apartment for her.
“Are we moving too fast?” you ask.
When you say out loud everything that’s happened in the last day and your plans for the near future, it sounds like you’re moving too fast, but it doesn’t feel that way.
His eyebrow rose. “Baby, we could die tomorrow. Life these days is too fuckin’ uncertain to be worryin’ about movin’ too fast, and we should do what makes us happy.”
He’s right, and it isn’t a bad idea…
“I’ll only agree to move in if Ellie says it’s okay.”
Your response has Joel chuckling as he kisses you.
“Wait, I have another question,” your words are said into his lips.
His mouth breaks away from yours as he sighs and presses his forehead to yours.
“I love you more than anythin’, but can I please kiss you without interruptions?”
“If you answer this question, we can make out—with tongue.”
His head lifts, and he looks confused. “It’s not makin’ out if there isn’t tongue.”
“Do you wanna make out or not?”
His expression turns grumpy. “Yes, so ask your damn question.”
“What would you have done if you opened the door in just your towel, and it was Sandra instead of me?”
“I would’ve shut the fuckin’ door—now kiss me. I was promised tongue.”
Tumblr media
Snow.
So much fucking snow.
Ellie hated winter in Boston, but Jackson? It’s a new kind of hell with how much of the freezing, white bullshit falls from the sky to blanket everything. On the days when she’s assigned the job of shoveling walkways down the main streets of the town, she wishes the bite on her arm had done her in—a dark thought, yes, but that’s how much she despises doing it.
The only positive thing about getting sick was not having to work; the biggest negative was Joel and how he was worrying so much he wouldn’t leave her the fuck alone. Yeah, it’s sweet, or whatever, that he cares so much, but this guy literally watched her sleep—he sat at the window seat in her room every night to keep an eye on her, and if she woke up, which happened a lot from the coughing, he was there at the side of her bed asking if she needed anything, and touching her forehead to check her temperature.
Thank god, his secret girlfriend came by when she did because Ellie was so close to stabbing him if he asked her how she was feeling one more time; her friends kept her sane the next day when they checked in on her, and luckily, by then she was pretty much over her sickness, and Joel had finally started to chill the fuck out.
That night, she thankfully got to sleep alone in her room, and it wasn’t surprising when she heard the third step down the staircase loudly creak—she’d tried everything, and there was no way to step on it without it making noise—a sign Joel was going across the street.
Oh, Ellie figured out something was going on between Joel and their across-the-street neighbor not too long after she moved in.
What tipped Ellie off was one day she was walking home after work and had almost arrived at their house when she saw the two of them chatting at her and Joel’s front door. Nothing fishy about that, right? Wrong. Joel was smiling as he spoke to the woman, and it wasn’t one of his fake, polite smiles he does when he’s trying to make himself look less scary and somewhat approachable; no, this was a genuine smile, with some teeth showing, and a rare sighting of the dimple in his cheek—it makes her gag to even think this, but she’d call the smile, charming.
Yuck.
Who wants to think about the guy that’s basically their dad trying to charm someone?
Disgusting.
If the smile wasn’t suspicious enough, the moment he spotted Ellie, it suddenly disappeared—why wouldn't Joel want her seeing him being so friendly with the new neighbor? Probably because he was hiding something; she’ll admit it also could’ve been so she didn’t tease him about having a crush, but the thing is, she wouldn’t have, which is really fucking surprising with how much shit she gives him.
See, she’s not stupid; she knows Joel’s made taking care of her his life’s purpose since they left Boston and that he loves her as if she were his own kid; not to get mushy, but she loves the grumpy fucker, too, and she wants him to be happy, like she is—he’s the reason her life is so good now, and it was time that he did something that’d make him happy. So, Ellie isn’t going to be a dick about him putting himself out there because she doesn’t want to discourage him.
Once Ellie was onto them, it was so freaking obvious that they were a thing—anytime they ran into the neighbor, Joel actually talked to her, instead of his usual one to two-word responses, he gave everyone else who wasn’t Ellie or Tommy. Joel always watched her if she was nearby and went over to her house the moment she asked him to fix something or help her—Ellie’s pretty sure a lot of the tasks were bullshit, and it was their excuse to see each other. Then there’s the damning evidence of Joel sneaking out almost every night; there was a night she got to a window in time to see him sticking to the shadows as he made his way across the street, and it confirmed everything.
He was pretty hush about his relationship with Tess—they’ve discussed her in general, and Ellie knows they had some kind of relationship; she’s just not sure if they were, you know, dating or in love. So, with Joel keeping quiet about what he’s got going on with their young neighbor, Ellie assumed he was just a private guy when it came to that stuff, and it was something they didn’t talk about, figuring if things got serious enough, he’d bring it up.
And hey, she’s hinted that she knows by inviting his secret girlfriend to eat and do stuff with them; Ellie’s even attempted to get the older woman to admit they’re together, but she wouldn’t break, no matter how hard the teen tried.
Then Ellie accidentally overslept at her girlfriend’s this morning and didn’t make it home before Joel, and now they’re both aware of the other’s love life. She won’t lie; it made her unbelievably happy that he didn’t give a single fuck she was dating a girl—he had more of a reaction to her getting a tattoo than her telling him she had a girlfriend, and she’s glad he didn’t make a big deal about it, not that she thought for a minute he wouldn’t be cool with her being with a lady since he was chill when she told him she didn’t like boys not too long after they got to Jackson; plus, the guy was really good friends with Bill and Frank, after all—he’s told her he’s glad she never got a chance to meet Bill because apparently, they would’ve caused a lot of trouble together and possibly taken over the world, which sounded pretty fucking great to her.
The snow crunches under her boots as she walks down the road on their way to the mess hall, her girlfriend, Cat, beside her, chatting about their days. Since she recovered from being sick yesterday, she had to go back to work today, and thankfully, she was assigned an easy job—animal feeding duty, which is both easy and fun.
“Shit, it’s Sandra!” Ellie hisses, grabbing Cat’s hand, “Hide!” She tugs the other girl behind a giant snow-covered bush. She peeks around it, seeing the bane of her and Joel’s existence walking up the street from the opposite direction, probably heading to the mess hall for dinner, too. The other woman is pretty far away, but Ellie doesn’t want to risk her seeing them.
“Why do we avoid Sandra again?” her girlfriend asks.
Ellie’s head turns her way; Cat’s wearing a purple beanie and an oversized navy blue coat, her dark eyes meeting Ellie’s. “God, where to start,” she says and takes a deep breath. “So, when we first moved here, Tommy and Maria tried to get Joel to go out with Sandra since they thought she was a great match for him—she’s also from Texas, pretty, widowed, and has no kids. Anyways, they tried to set them up, but Joel didn’t want to go out with her or anyone else. He was super polite when he turned her down. I guess Sandra took that as him playing hard to get, and she hasn’t left him alone since.”
“So, you avoid her, too…?”
“Oh, right—she wants to be my mom.”
“What…?”
“Yeah, every time she talks to me alone, she likes to bring up how I could use a mom, or wouldn’t it be great if I had one to take care of me and my dad—” Ellie makes a face. “—it’s always so fucking weird calling Joel that out loud.” He pretty much is her dad and she won’t correct anyone who refers to him as such, but to her, he’s Joel. “I think when she says that creepy stuff, she’s trying to get me to convince Joel to date her, but we both agree she’s nuts. Like, I overheard Joel talking to Tommy once, and apparently, some months after we got here, she came over to our house and asked if he could fix something at hers, and he went because Joel might be a bit of a grumpy dick, he’s still a good guy, and she kissed him and was all over him—you get the picture—and he got the fuck out of there, and isn’t as polite when he tells her to leave him alone now.”
“He’s made it clear he’s not interested, and she still won’t get the hint…? Does she know there are other single men in town…?”
“She only has eyes for Joel. I don’t think she’s used to men rejecting her, so now it’s her goal to get him. I mean, she’s persistent. If she sees me or him together or separately, she always talks to us; it’s awkward, and I have to tell you it’s disturbing watching someone flirt with Joel so hard—she’s not subtle at all. It’s honestly weird, and Joel is completely over it. I just don’t get why so many women in this town are into his old ass.”
Ellie has witnessed many women shoot their shots with Joel and get turned down, which is another thing that gave him and his girlfriend away—they never openly flirted, but there is a lot of friendly touching, which is out of character for Joel. The first time Ellie saw Joel open a door and guide the other woman inside with a hand on her back, she had to bite her tongue to stop herself from yelling, ‘Aha!’
“It makes no sense to me,” she continues. “This dude’s old enough to be my grandpa, he’s only got one good ear, he’s weird looking, and after a few days not showering, his feet smell so fucking bad you’ll want to chop your nose off—I swear the only reason we didn’t run into more infected while traveling is because Joel’s disgusting stench scared them away.”
Cat snorts. “You’ve mentioned how bad he smelled a lot.”
“Yeah, well, I can’t un-smell him, and it fucking haunts me.” She shudders. “Now, back on topic, Sandra creeps Joel and me the fuck out, and I’m positive his secret girlfriend would’ve murdered her by now if she wasn’t a secret.”
“Hopefully, Sandra will back off now that Joel’s relationship is no longer a secret.”
“That’d be so nice, but I’m not getting my hopes up.”
“I know you’ve never said anything, but does it bother you how young his girlfriend is?”
Ellie’s eyebrows furrow. “Why would it bother me?” she asks. “She’s an adult and can do whatever she fucking wants. I mean, I don’t understand why she’d willingly choose to be with such an old, ugly, grumpy man, but that’s her deal, and she’s pretty cool. I’m just glad Joel got with someone I like and get along with.” A horrible thought comes to her. “God, imagine if he had started dating Sandra, and I had to pretend to like her and not be weirded out by her trying to be my mom? Yeah, who gives a fuck that his girlfriend is closer to my age than his, she’s not weird and makes him happy, and that’s all that matters.” Something pops up in her brain, and she smiles. “Oh my god, Cat—” She grabs the other girl’s arm and shakes it in excitement. “—what if they had a kid? I could be a sister!” That’d be amazing. She’s always wanted a sibling. Her hands go still, and her eyebrows pull together; she’s lost feeling in the tip of her nose with how cold it is. “Wait,” she starts, “is Joel too old to have a baby? Like, I mean his stuff—” She gags. “—you know what I’m talking about. Does it go bad with age? He’s really fucking old.” Cat’s trying hard not to laugh, her gloved palm over her mouth, and Ellie shoves a finger at her. “Don’t make fun of me for not knowing! What I learned in school was pretty basic, so I know how babies are made—revolting, by the way—there’s just a lot of shit they didn’t explain in detail, and don’t get me started on the awkward as fuck conversation Joel tried to have with me when I started hanging out with Dina and Jesse.” Jesse was the first boy her age she befriended in Jackson.
“The one where in the middle of him telling you boys will say anything to get into your pants, you shouted that you didn’t like boys?”
“Ugh, yes, and then he asked me if I liked girls, and I wasn’t completely sure, so I answered maybe, and he said—” She lowers her voice to try and mimic his. “‘Well, shit, I don’t know what the sex talk is for my daughter likin’ girls’—” She spoke normally again, “You know what, I’m actually impressed with what he pulled out of his ass.” He ensured she really understood what consent is and walked her through what a healthy relationship is supposed to look like.
“To answer your question, Joel isn’t too old to have a kid.”
Ellie grins. “Wicked.” She looks around the bush to check if the coast is clear. “Looks like she’s gone. Let’s get out of here.”
When they get to the mess hall, the mood is… weird.
There’s a lot of whispering and people sneaking looks in the same direction. It only takes her a second to figure out what’s stealing everyone’s attention, and her nose crinkles at the sight.
“Cat?” She’s still staring, the other girl standing beside her.
“Yeah?”
“Am I seeing things, or is Joel really playing tonsil hockey with his not-so-secret girlfriend at our table?”
“Um, I can’t tell if they’re using tongue, but they’re definitely kissing.”
That’s obvious—the man and woman are sitting next to each other on one side of the table with their coats off, their upper bodies turned toward one another, and faces mashed together, Joel’s massive hand holding the side of her head.
“It’s weird feeling both happy for him and wanting to puke simultaneously.”
“I get it. Wanna see something that will make you feel better?”
She glances at her. “What is it?”
Cat nods her head toward a table. “Look.”
Her attention goes to where she indicated, finding Sandra clearly pissed off and glaring daggers at the couple making out, her hand clutching a fork so tight her knuckles are white.
Ellie is delighted and pulls Cat along to join Joel and his girlfriend.
“Please tell me,” she says, as they get to the table and start removing their gloves and jackets, “that you guys are being disgusting right now for the audience and that this won’t be a regular thing.”
Their mouths detach, Joel’s arm around the woman’s back while resting his other hand on the tabletop. There were trays of food for all four of them at each of their seats Joel must’ve gotten, Ellie noticing it was chili and cornbread night. The man looks at her with a close-lipped smile.
“It won’t be a regular thing—” he replies.
“—thank god,” she interrupts and sits down, Cat joining her.
“—in front of you,” he continues.
“That’s fine by me.”
He grabs his small bowl of dessert and slides it over to her.
“Peach cobbler!” she exclaims. “Fuck yeah!”
Not to be sentimental, but Ellie knows that every night they have dinner, and Joel passes her his dessert so she’ll have two, it’s him saying without words that he loves her—that’s just how they are; they suck at speaking their feelings, so they show how much they care for the other with random things like that.
“Thanks, Joel!” She ignores the chili and slice of cornbread and immediately starts digging into one of the cobblers.
“You’re welcome, Ellie—what took you guys so long? We were expectin’ you to be here before us.”
“We had to hide,” she says around a bite—it tastes so fucking good; peach cobbler is her favorite.
Joel's expression turns to one of concern. “Who the hell were you hidin’ from?”
Their girlfriends had started eating.
She swallows, giving him a look. “Who do you think?” She juts her thumb behind her. “Miss Crazypants over there, who—” She turns in her seat to find Sandra still looking pissed. “—might be Miss Murderpants now.”
“Stop starin’ and pointin’,” Joel hisses, and she faces him again.
Ellie rolls her eyes. “The woman annoys the fuck out of us, and you’re telling me not to be rude to her? A bit hypocritical, seeing as you’re clearly rubbing it in her face that you’re seeing someone.”
His jaw clenches. “That’s different.”
Her eyebrows dip together. “What?”
He adjusts in his chair to lean forward a little and starts whispering, “I want her to see us, so she’ll get the hint and leave us the fuck alone—I also want the whole town buzzin’ about me bein’ in a relationship tomorrow.”
“The first part of that, I get; the second bit, you lost me. It’s not like you to want to be the subject of town gossip.”
He straightens and picks up his spoon. “Don’t worry about it, and eat.”
That’s Joel speak for, ‘I’m done discussing this topic.’
“Okay, you fuckin’ weirdo,” she mumbles and takes another bite.
There’s some talking as they eat between all four of them. Joel seems incredibly interested in Cat’s hobby of tattooing people, which Ellie guesses is because she told him she was getting one. He’s probably just ensuring it’ll be safe and that she won’t have to worry about infections or whatever else could go wrong.
Ellie has completely demolished all the food on her tray and is stuffed, taking a big gulp of her water. She sets the cup down.
“So,” she begins, “how serious is this?” She points between the couple across from her. “Is this a fling? Is she moving in? Are you guys getting married? What can I expect?”
Joel swallows and wipes his mouth with a napkin, which he clutches in his fist as he lays it on the table.
“It’s serious,” he says. “We wanted to talk to you about her movin’ in.”
She figured that would be the case with how much time they spend together at night. Ellie’s not against the idea, but she also does not under any circumstance want to know what they do when they’re alone. She has an idea; she’s not dumb. She just prefers not having any solid evidence.
Ellie pushes her tray forward and crosses her arms on the tabletop.
“Here’s the deal: I’ll be fine with her moving in under one condition.”
He looks curious. “What’s that?”
“Whatever you guys do alone in the bedroom happens when I’m not home; I don’t wanna hear shit, I can’t unhear, and I absolutely do not want to see anything I can’t unsee. It’ll only have to be like that until you finish my apartment.”
He seems to be thinking it over. “Deal.”
“You assholes gonna get married?”
“We haven’t discussed that yet.”
His girlfriend says, “I’m okay with marriage.”
Joel’s head whips her way, and he genuinely looks surprised.
“Really?” he asks.
Ellie snorts because the other woman is looking at him like he’s dumb. “Yeah,” she answers. “What about you?”
“I’m okay with it also.”
“Great.” She smiles.
It’s nice to see Joel so happy and to know he’s found someone. She always worried he’d die alone; sure, he’d have her, but he deserved to be loved by someone and to get good things after all of the shit he’s been through in his long fucking life.
She glances over at Cat, who’s scraping her spoon along the inside of her dessert bowl to get whatever of the cobbler is left. She’s staring at it so intently that Ellie thinks she looks adorable, and it makes her smile.
“Oh, are those the ‘googly eyes’?” she hears Joel ask the woman beside him.
“Yep,” his girlfriend answers.
Cat takes her last bite and asks them while chewing, “What are ‘googly eyes’?”
Joel sounds a little too happy, “It’s how Ellie looks at you.”
Ellie quickly turns toward him. “I don’t have ‘googly eyes’!”
She wants to wipe the smug smile off of his stupid face. “Yes, you do.”
“No, you’re lying!”
He puts a hand over his heart. “God’s honest truth, baby girl, you stare at her with ‘googly eyes.’”
Her cheeks feel hot, and she wants the floor to swallow her whole. “This is so embarrassing.” She doesn’t want to talk about this anymore and remembers something.
Joel’s smiling. “It’s cute.” He starts drinking his water.
“Yeah, yeah, I’m cute, whatever,” she says, swatting away his words with her hand. She focuses on him, leaning over her arms on the table. “You know what would be really cute, now that you’ve got a girlfriend, and I think it’s still possible at your age, you’re pretty fucking old, though, but if it is possible, it’d be really cute if you guys had a baby.” She grins and nods her head.
Joel sputters and starts coughing hard. It takes him a moment to speak, and the look on his face is a mixture of confusion and anger.
“The hell do you mean if it’s possible at my age?!” he rumbles. ”I’m fifty-eight, not dead!”
Tumblr media
Prev - Series Masterlist - Masterlist
Thank you for reading! If you’d like to be tagged in my fics, please fill out the form in my bio, on my masterlist, or just let me know! 
601 notes · View notes
tenjikufag · 3 days
Text
Spoiled.
Pantalone x Male Reader
Tumblr media
“I’ve given you everything, yet you still won’t look at me?”
— toxic attachment, dominant reader, fatuu reader, femmes DNI
read part two here
Pantalone.. he was a selfish, self centred, greedy individual. To many, his focus on wealth and his power over the west banks was all he was. There was no personality to be held within him, he was evil and greedy- really all that there was to be desired at his position of ninth of the harbingers.
The only other known thing about him was you, a person who was only seen as an extension of the male. Not a person, not even a limb, barely a shadow. You were basically Pantalone himself. The man relished in this, his “underlings” grovelled at your feet along with his, never daring to take even a lick of your attention away from him. Never once has anyone spoken to you, or even accidentally catch your gaze.
They all knew better.
They wanted to keep their lives, they didn’t want to be subject to the ninths close connection to the doctor for overstepping these unsaid boundaries.
“My dear, I’ve brought you this~”
Gazing up at the door, a bashful looking Pantalone presented himself to you, gift in hand. It was wrapped in your favourite colour with a jewelled bow on top..
You sneered at him, turning away to show your disdain at his presence.
What was your relationship with him? You often wondered where it all went wrong.. you’d stuck together when you were small impoverished children, bottom barrel of society. When he gained his power, his notoriety, he whisked you away with him.
In the beginning you adored it, you adored him. Having a warm bed to sleep in at night was a luxury, meals no longer being a lucky find; you used to find yourself wrapped around the male with nothing but love filling your chest. Love, adoration, and appreciation for him was all but a feeling of the past.
Along the way, something shifted. You weren’t sure anymore but all you felt towards him, despite his ever growing love for you, was contempt.
He could drop you off on a trail in the middle of nowhere and you’d probably be happier.
You’d find contentment.
But, you felt indebted to him in a way.. he took you along with him, he shared his riches and glory with you.. even attributed some of his greater successes to you being present.
You were far too deep to leave.
To leave safely at least.
“Won’t you look at me? At least take this gift?”
He stood beside you, but a mere few inches shorter than you.. a frown on his lips.
“I’ve missed you terribly.. please, look at me Y/n..”
His voice shook, you could feel his desperation oozing. Furrowing your brows, you snatched the gift from him and created distance.
You threw the gift away, hearing him gasp and desperately fish it out.
“I told you before, I don’t want them. Stop giving me gifts.”
Growling, you whipped around to finally face him upfront- annoyance bubbling in your chest when he smiled.
“Stop trying. I’ll leave if you do it again.”
The males eyes widened, his breathe hitching.
The look he gave you.. it was what made you feel guilt and kept you tethered to him evermore.
It was almost as if you were looking at a younger him.
You could never break his heart.
And he could never break yours.
The two of you knew, neither of you would ever leave.
And yet,
You found him in your arms once again, in the grand bed he had purchased with all the golden adornments and plush sheets..
As he laid in your arms, content with his doing, he kissed your neck. You only hummed, holding him closer out of reflex.
Was this love?
Did love make it hard to look at them without disdain?
You weren’t sure. But he was.
He loved you, loves you.
He knows how you feel, but all he craves is to have you look his way with the same eyes you used to have for him. Whether you liked it or not.
He would spoil no one but you, he craved you more than anything.
75 notes · View notes
Just a random non-hating opinion. I know twitter-tumblr-instagram cycle information and you end up not knowing about where it has come from but your post on Alexia's sister's surgical appointment made me realise that we're not that far from Harry Styles stalker fans than we think
Istg some people need to STOP because I've seen a tweet and that someone was close to searching all kindergartens of Catalunya just to get an "inedit" picture of Alexia as a baby
You do so well informing, the purpose of the blog, but also stopping this because I live nearby where Crnogorcevic lived until last year and there were fans there almost every morning. This, the ciutat esportiva drama and also on social media? Some people call footballers "dry" when they don't post or sign but they don't owe us anything and are not perfect puppets to serve the masses (remember the Earps incident this year?)
thanks for your comments, anon, but sadly i think those types of fans are already here! and coincidentally, the twitter algorithm just showed me a fight between fans about the kindergarten picture of alexia you referred to in your ask! 👀
to me, people are respectful for the most part on tumblr, but i've seen all sorts of things crossing the line on twitter and instagram, including fans posting private photos, circulating paparazzi photos that players asked to be removed, directly tagging players on cringe/inappropriate posts, and commenting on the social media accounts of player family members, friends, and significant others. 🤦‍♀️ (please don't break the fourth wall!)
i get that defining the line and boundaries can sometimes be difficult, and obviously there are issues like parasocial relationships with these players. it's the price of increased attention and fandom, and we definitely want more recognition and accolades and brand deals for these amazing athletes, but we can do better.
i remember when fandom was a lot smaller and you could have 5+ minute conversations with players after matches, and players used to be a lot more open with their time and selves. things have changed and we have to respect that. plus, the ciutat esportiva nonsense is infuriating. i know that players, including alexia, have complained about that and asked for extra security.
i've established some boundaries for my posts, and try to post from public sources only or directly from the player's ig profiles. for example, my alexia as a child post are photos from her and her sister's open accounts only.
and finally, i know we all love to gossip, but i really want to stick to these types of sources, and not go tooooo far down the rumour and innuendo rabbit hole. (i'm guilty of this and will try to do better!)
22 notes · View notes
animentality · 1 day
Note
in re your post about therapy speak and ship wars, i THINK i agree from what I do understand, but i also dont know what therapy speak means? I looked it up and got this definition "Therapy speak is a colloquial term that refers to the use of psychological, therapeutic, or mental health language in everyday conversation. It can include terms like "boundaries," "abuse," "psychopath," and "trauma"."
So would an example of such be, "X ship is better than Y ship because X ship respects each others boundaries, but in Y ship they're a psychopath"? And then you know probably some added death/doxxing threats cuz ship wars.
Either way, yeah, ship wars dumb af, I just am dumb af too so I don't know what the post means. I also, fortunately, don't encounter much of therapy speak in my fandom spaces or online in general (proven by the fact that I had to look it up) as I just talk to people that I know and avoid the For You pages (which, plot note, are very often not For Me) so I'm lucky to avoid stupid opinions.
Thanks for answering if you do choose to, I know that at least several of the replies/responses to that post are likely stupid af, so I hope that my stupid af question is at least stupid af in a different way :) If I somehow have the wrong definition feel free to just link me to something that explains it better, because regardless it seems like a useful term to know!
not a stupid question at all.
so in the context of that post, abusing therapy speak refers to people who misuse terms like "narcissist" and "bipolar disorder" and "gaslighting" to suit their own personal tastes.
say for example, a character is arrogant and kind of haughty. if you don't like that character because people ship him with the character you like to ship with someone else, you insist he's a "narcissist" when he's you know. just arrogant.
and you say he can't be with her, because he's a narcissist and he has problems. that's problematic.
or say there's a female character you hate for having genuine human reactions to traumatic things. you'd say well I don't like her because she lets her obvious bpd hurt people instead of trying to fix her issues, she's so messy :(
and then if someone lies to another character, say their enemy, because they're fucking enemies, then you'd say oh he GASLIGHTS him, how could you guys ship this??? toxic ship???
so that's what that post refers to.
therapy speak as a whole, by definition, is fine because PTSD and depression and trauma do exist.
but in certain spaces, especially Twitter and TikTok and Tumblr of course, it's been weaponized as a tool to harass people who are fans of characters or ships that they themselves do not like.
which is ridiculous.
like you can say you don't like a ship without feeling the need to diagnose the two characters with whatever fun term your gen z therapist tossed at you that week.
you can say oh I simply do not like this character instead of oh he has an obvious mental illness and that's why I don't like him.
or you know.
he's a terrible representative of (insert illness) and that's why I don't like him-
bitch, we used to just not like things.
now it's like... oh this character is a psychopath.
let me read you a Wikipedia page on dsm-5 and explain that my personal preference is morally correct while yours is amoral.
that's why that post meant.
22 notes · View notes
bellysoupset · 10 hours
Note
Don’t think I didn’t notice Wendy getting flustered when Luke burped in front of her! So does her kink go beyond just Vince’s tummy? Does she have a thing for burps? If you know, can you talk about the scope of her kink - what kinds of bodily functions, people, reasons for the illness etc. that turn her on and what doesn’t? If you are still figuring it out that’s okay too. As I think is fairly obvious from my own writing, I like characters who try to hold back from vomiting, especially when being N S F W. Is that something she enjoys? If I didn’t say so earlier, I really, Really liked the dirty talk and Vince understanding it as such and trying to match her. Would love to see more of that at some point.
Hiii Lis 🙈
Yes! Wendy's kink precedes Vince!
She has a thing for nausea more than puke itself, as in she hardly cares about the final product and much more about the feeling miserable af and getting worse until- Which I think is very intimately related to the natural sexual progression of horniness going up up up until climax.
I don't think she's like into burps, but I think like most people with our kink she's highly aware of anything related to it. Much like I know me (and others) get all flustered over someone doing something mundane like scratching their belly, even if it has nothing to do with me being an emetophile. It just feels intimate, because it's tied to something I close relate to sexual fantasy, and it feels nearly indecent when vanillas do it without realizing.
I think for Wendy is she likes food related nausea most because, normally, it comes with barely no "dangerous" symptoms. Over eating being her favorite, since it's a one and done and the situation is highly controllable. Food poisoning I think she could get off on, but as long as it doesn't last long enough that it becomes dangerous or involves too much "back end" stuff.
She doesn't actually like the holding back, she's very dominant and I think she likes being all... Devilish sweet? Like in the last fic where she was cooing Vince, while actively making his nausea worse. Call it soft sadism, if you will.
She's VERY into the actual tummy: Is it bloated? Sloshy, gurgly, taut, noisy or quiet?
And very into the other feeling and signaling their discomfort, burps and aborted gags being her favorites. Vince is actually not whiny enough, but not that they both are aware of it. I love writing Wendy/Vin figuring out together the limits and boundaries of their more or less shared kink.
Side note: while she's an emetophile regardless of Vince, he does make it soooo much better. Not only she's in love with who he is as a person (so sweet he gives her tooth aches), but also his boooodyy. A round fuzzy tummy + big fucking arms and shoulders <3 kisses kisses
18 notes · View notes
side-b-bumblebi · 7 months
Text
Men who view women as their intellectual equals 😍
#pro tip for the boys: a lot of girls will respond a lot better to a stimulating conversation than to a guy trying to show off#ignore the movies they're lying to you when they tell you you need to be a show off#and if a girl wants that it's maybe not the best sign y'know?#but most girls just want to be treated like we're capable intelligent humans#that's all!! the movies and shit make it way more complicated than it has to be#and yes some girls do make things awkward and complicate everything#but maybe you wanna be careful about that because those girls generally have a lot to unpack#being friends with those girls is fine!! just make sure you have strong boundaries in place#and make sure she's doing some work on herself before considering a romantic relationship#but anyway i've had a lot of men in my life that i feel like wanted to be so much smarter than me#and not to be rude but they weren't?? i was just as smart and sometimes smarter#i didn't care that they were confident in their intelligence but i felt like i needed to dumb myself down#and it. freaking. sucked. i have no idea how i did it for so long#and i would even make jokes about like the guys i dated being smarter than me and nobody ever said anything??#and again these guys weren't smarter than me. that's not an insult to them just acknowledging i'm smarter than i was gave myself credit for#i'm outgrowing the notion that i have to dumb myself down for men and it's so freeing#and you know what really helps me actually? being in college#and especially being in college with so many intelligent men who know they're smart#these guys KNOW they're smart. and not in an arrogant way in a secure and confident way#them knowing they're smart makes them the OPPOSITE of arrogant actually#it's weird but i stand by my observation and it makes sense when you think about it#if you're secure in yourself and your intelligence you don't need to proce yourself by making other people look dumb#these guys are secure in their self-image and masculinity. they don't need women to be dumb and weak to feel strong and intelligent.#and it's so freaking endearing. i love that for these guys so much.#i am just so thankful for people in my life who are taking me seriously and who are helping me to understand i'm worth taking seriously.#wow these tags are long but anyway#guys you don't have to prove anything girls you should never have to dumb yourselves down live long and prosper
49 notes · View notes
altschmerzes · 9 months
Text
one of the struggles with writing this qpr two aces fic and with other like. nonromantic, nontraditional etc relationships in writing is like. when i’m writing something particularly something i haven’t written very often, i like to see how other people go about it, yknow? and one of the things writing about those relationships sometimes includes is like, augh this is so hard to articulate lmao. but like. deciding to Do Something together, to introduce some aspect of intimacy or some life decision they’re making together, and it’s so hard to get any kind of reference for people writing about characters doing that in a way that’s not romantic. 
(and i know that the conversations could look the same regardless of the nature of the relationship, but i am just so intensely romance repulsed i can do No ‘research’ using ship fics bc i literally just can’t read them.)
and so it’s like. i am flying blind. i have no idea if this sounds okay or if it sounds stilted or if the language is wrong or the terminology is off or the characters don’t sound like themselves etc it’s all so. augh. yells.
23 notes · View notes
thelastsaiyanprincess · 7 months
Text
i really wanna teach a course on tumblr etiquette for newbies
15 notes · View notes
milkweedman · 9 months
Note
I know you've talked about your frustration with how difficult it is to make money with fiber art, but would you ever consider selling or trading for the dyed fleece you have? Not like opening an etsy shop and dying fleece just for selling or anything. But like, say I wanted to buy some hand veg dyed wool...you could destash some of what you have....then you could use that money to dye more wool.....infinite wool hack.
I trade my stuff all the time (and am always down to trade hand made and hand processed stuff for other handmade/hand processed !). I dunno if selling dyed fleece would actually be an infinite wool hack though; I haven't really done the math but like, if I buy 2 pounds of raw fleece for $25 (definitely a price I've paid before, idk if its standard for me off the top of my head), once I wash it I likely have anywhere between a pound and a pound a half (depending on breed and how dirty it was, the lanolin and dirt that I wash away can be up to 70% of the weight of a raw fleece, but usually closer to 50% in the breeds I like working with). So I'd have to sell a single pound of washed dyed fleece for like $35 ($10 shipping for 1 pound package is what I just paid at the post office a few days ago) just to get the money back from what i paid for the fleece in the first place--basically paying in labor and foraged materials (so more labor) for the joy of getting to dye wool for strangers. Idk about that. I'd definitely do it if it looked like I could get at least double the cost of the wool for it--Maybe people would pay a lot more, but I'd be a little surprised if that were true, honestly. It's a very nice idea and i wish the world worked that way :(
18 notes · View notes
redrockbutch · 3 months
Text
There is a not insignificant portion of disabled people who saw all the jokes about "do yoga to cure your Parkinson's" and assumed that applies to literally any prescribed movement whatsoever and they are furious if you point out that stretching throughout the day or going to a physical therapist might help even a little and I don't fucking get it
Some people lash out even if all you say is "moving an arm you get a vaccine in will prevent that dead-arm thing!" like it is the most virulent, defensive insistence on being utterly doomed and nothing could possibly ever help and I don't fucking get it
6 notes · View notes
linabirb · 3 months
Text
also hi while i was talking about my ocd and anxiety during today's therapy session my therapist literally googled the wikipedia definitions of the things my brain called me to prove that it's wrong and that those thoughts don't matter
3 notes · View notes
chewy-toyz · 6 months
Text
🛸
2 notes · View notes
blye-flower · 7 months
Text
.
#my thing is always gonna be this#how are you upset with me because im trying to have a boundary???#how are you upset with ME that YOURE ALWAYS OVERSTEPPING MY BOUNDARIES#like yes i babysitter im a babysitter but you cant expect me to babysit just cause you need a babysitter!?? like what??!#“oh we needed to go to another church and the kids didnt wanna go” okay?? so you just dropped them off without saying anything to me??!#you didnt even ask if i could you just assumed i would cause im home??? like i dont deserve a moment???#like im not a parent#i dont have any kids and i definitely dont fucking plan on it so why tf do i feel like a single mother in my day to day??#why do i never have any free time to myself why is my free time volunteered to making sure children are supervised??!#“well since you decided this im just gonna come get the kids” yeah im within my fucking right so why are you phrasing it like im wrong#god ive never been this frustrated that im fucking crying like can i have some fuckinf breathing space AWAY from other ppls kids#blymi rants#update:: my sister did in fact come and get them#and told the kids “yall cant stay home cause auntie doesnt feel like watching yall”#definitely feels like shes putting the blame on me cool cool cool#just peachy.#love that for me lets make it MY fault whatever#god i really cannot catch a fucking break#and trust and believe im gonna have to hear some stupid ass better than thou speech about how i need to help out my sister#“because shes a student a mother AND working” as if any of those choices are my fucking concern yep wonderful#especially for a sister. that while i love her. feels entitled to peoples help because shes “going through so much”#and now i cant even fucking relax or draw or write because im so fucking pissed#which is why i wanted the afternoon to myself ANYWAYS so no matter what the fucking days a goddamn bust for me regardless
3 notes · View notes
navramanan · 1 year
Text
I go through these short periods of time feeling very okay and good even only bc i distract myself from what pains me until it catches up again and the cycle repeats itself
#i think it's verrrrrrrrry close to catching up again after i've had normal 2 weeks lol#so many ifs and buts and would things be better had i made a different decision lived in a different place or time etc#but i'll never now i'll always only have the here and now and the unchangeable past#and the very incertain scary future i'm trying so so so hard to be hopeful about but seeing things as they are right now. i really dont kno#i can only fake it to some point. i cant fake it till i make it. i'll fall apart countless times and then wont make it anyway#i feel like. i feel like all the circumstances i've been in have all always been against me#like i'm the only unlucky one among the people i know#i try so so so hard to remind myself that people who seem to have it so much better have their own problems too#but then also i remember something i wrote down once as a teen. the phrase you typically hear#''i have been battling (?) with this problem but am lucky enough to have a support system / loving friends etc''#and idk how right i am with thinking this way but no matter what problems you have.#it's the toughest thing to lack deep connections with at least 1 person ideally like 3 i guess bc it's such a fundamental thing#you know having someone you can ALWAYS turn to without feeling bad and you know that they can and do turn to you too#and i do have a few wonderful friends i love so so much but i feel and know that no one needs me like i need them#every friendships feels so fragile to me. no one depends on me turns to me for advice or to vent etc#and when i feel like i need to do any of those things i cant turn to any of them#there's still inevitably a sort of disconnect i feel#and it terrifies me that i'll never find someone i connect with on a deeper level and it's mutual and we both can depend on each other#and there are no boundaries no shame no unspoken words#i dont know how true any of my feelings are but. but yeah#nesi rants
8 notes · View notes
dykesynthezoid · 1 year
Text
Deadly combination of two ppl living together is one person who never wants to make their mental illness symptoms somebody else’s problem, even when they really should be making it somebody else’s problem bc they need help, and the other person is someone who will not stop making their mental illness symptoms everyone else’s problem regardless of the consequences
10 notes · View notes
goldkirk · 2 years
Text
.
16 notes · View notes