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your-writer-beta-side-piece · 11 months

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wet dreams (pt. 2)

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pairing: eddie munson x female mean!cheerleader!reader

summary: after being fingered in class by eddie, you go to his trailer to tell him off

warnings: smut, dry humping, switch!eddie, switch!reader, mean!reader, oral (f receiving), protected p in v, angry sex at the beginning, biting

part one

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You stood in front of his trailer door, fuming and blushing as your fists banged against it.

“Open up, freak!”

You heard rustling and the sound of something heavy falling, followed by a groan, from the other side of the door before it opened to revel the object of your anger. He wasn’t wearing that old Hellfire Club you were used to see him wear, but rather some metal band from the looks of it. His hair was messy as always, but his cheeks were pink, and he was slightly breathless. What was he doing before you arrived?

“The queen of Hawkins High appears in my doorstep. Are you lost?” Eddie teased, leaning to the side of the door.

You didn’t know if you were angry or still horny, or both. You just knew you were confused, and wanted some explanations now.

“Who do you think you are to… do that to me?”

"Do what?"

"Touch me!"

His eyebrows rose as he let out a small laugh. "Okay, since the lady insists."

"No, you idiot!" You blushed furiously, remembering how his touch felt. It wouldn't be such a bad idea, actually...

He looked at you with a boyish look on his face. "You know what, you never told me what we did in your dream."

"And I'll never tell you." You furrowed your eyebrows. "I just came to tell you to never do that again."

He took a few steps closer to you, to the point you had to crane your neck up to meet his eyes. The scent of cigarettes invaded your nostrils, normally you’d bitch about how bad that smell was and that smoking kills, but now it wasn’t so unpleasant coming from him. His hand slowly rose, and you followed the movement with your eyes in slow motion, almost scared as to what he would do now with his perfect fingers, but he just started twirling a lock of your hair around his index finger.

“Why don’t you tell me what you’re really here for, huh? And don’t lie.”

Your breath hitched, but you knew you had to keep your composure. You didn’t come all the way to this shit hole to be at his mercy again.

"I told you already. To tell you that won't happen again." Your voice sounded like you were way more composed than you actually were. You swear you felt your legs quiver at some point.

"You know, I think you're lying. I think you're here because you liked me touching you way too much, and you want more." He gripped your hair, bringing your face impossibly closer to his.

“Tell me to stop.” His lips brushed against yours as he spoke, causing your brain to shut down and you leaned forward, already feeling drunk on him. But your movement was halted when you felt a large hand grip your neck, not hard enough to choke you, but hard enough to wake you up from your daze. “Hey. Tell me to stop.”

“What were you doing before I came here?”

He paused. “What?”

You trailed your hand from his stomach to the waistband of his sweatpants. "Why are you so hard? You think I didn't notice?"

He grunted, eyes closing for a second. "Jesus. You should have a hot cheerleader cum on your fingers, sweetheart. Then you'll understand."

"Were you touching yourself thinking about me?" You palmed his already rock hard bulge, trying to get a little bit of control of the situation. You couldn't deny anymore you wanted him, but if you're giving in to your desires, you'd at least be in control. "You're such a freak."

"Fuck you."

You pushed him inside and slammed his front door behind you. His trailer was messy, but you didn't analyze it too much because as soon as you saw a couch there, you shoved Eddie in its direction. You quickly sat on his lap, your panties the only thing separating your cunt from the rough fabric of this sweatpants. His hands gripped your waist as you rubbed yourself against him.

“Don’t forget who you’re talking to.”

His laugh made you shiver. “I should respect the queen, right?”

“Yes, you should.” You lowered your voice to a whisper, and you leaned forward so your lips were close to his ear. “If you want to cum.”

You bit the skin under his ear, receiving a hiss and a jolt from his hips from under you. A moan almost escaped you at the sudden pressure.

“Of course you’re a biter.”

“Something tells me you like it.”

You leaned back to see his flushed face, and the cheeky grin you started to find irresistible. “No offense, my queen, but are you gonna do something or just talk?”

A scoff left your lips as you started moving against him, almost aggressively. You knew it was a lot for the both of you, how rough you were moving your hips against him, but the anger you felt towards him was practically controlling you now, along with your desire. He had his eyes on you the entire time, watching the way you were just taking what you wanted from him.

Of course, he couldn’t handle being good for a few seconds, and he increased the pace by moving your hips with his strong hands. You rested you chin on his shoulder, a breathless moan escaping you. Your panties were still wet from the orgasm he gave you earlier, by now they were probably soaked.

He gripped your hair again, forcing you to look at him as he smashed his lips against yours. Your movement halted for a second, surprised by the sudden kiss. You knew it was stupid to be shocked by him kissing you while he’d already made you cum once, and was on his way to do it twice, but it seemed like a weirdly intimate gesture. You didn’t mind, though, it only made you more worked up. Your tongues fought each other for dominance while you tried to get back to your previous task of grinding against him. You lost, and his tongue invaded your mouth. The wet smacking of your lips sounded so obscene that the first signs of your orgasm began to appear.

He must’ve noticed the shift in you, the way your movements started to become sloppy, and he quickly stopped you.

“I already let you have your fun. Now it’s my turn.” He stood up, still holding you against him so you wouldn’t fall. A small yelp of surprise left your lips as he walked to what you believe is his bedroom, and threw you on the mattress. “I don’t know what made you think you had control. It was cute, really.”

His fingers were quick to tear your uniform off you, leaving you only with your underwear. He didn’t even bother taking your bra off, only pushing the cups out of the way as his eyes admired you.

“I thought I was your queen a moment ago.” A shaky breath left you as his lips attacked your chest, avoiding your nipples but kissing everywhere around.

“And I was a freak a moment ago, but would you let a freak do this to you?” His tongue brushed your nipple, before capturing it between his lips and sucking. You couldn’t stop the moans from leaving your mouth, your hand buried itself in his hair as you arched your back, wanting more of him to touch you.

His finger teased your nipple as he sucked on the other, switching nipples when he thought it was enough.

"What were we doing in your dream?" His thigh pressed against your pussy.

“I’m… not telling you.”

"You're not gonna cum until you tell me."

You groaned, trying to switch positions so you were on top but he wouldn’t let you. His hands held yours above your head and he gave a sweet kiss to your pouting lips.

“I’m waiting.” He teased, enjoying the way no matter how much you tried, you’d only have control if he let you.

“Ugh- You were…” Your cheeks were red as you avoided looking at him. “You were eating me out. That’s it.”

“Hmm. That’s what got you so worked up?” He hummed. “Well, who am I do deny a pretty girl her dreams?”

The smirk on his face was almost scary as he pushed your panties down your ankles, his eyes always fixed on the spot between your legs. The look he gave you was the same look a lion would give it’s prey before devouring it. You had no doubt that's exactly what Eddie wanted to do to you.

“Fuck, look at that. She’s beautiful.”

“Did you just refer to my pussy-“

“Shh.” He raised his finger up, shushing you. You’d feel offended, but he was looking at your pussy like it was something that belonged in a museum. "You're dripping, sweetheart. Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you.”

You jerked as you saw him spit on your pussy before smearing his saliva all around with his thumb.

"Eddie!'' You covered your face, attempting to close your legs but he just laughed as he held them open. "You're disgusting!"

He didn't even bother answering you, too focused on playing with your pussy with his thumb. You were starting to feel so hot you practically ripped the bra off of you, which finally made his eyes avert from your pussy to your tits. His free hand cupped your breast and you moaned, overwhelmed by both sensitive areas being stimulated at the same time. When you opened your eyes, which you didn't even realized you had closed, he was staring at you. It almost worried you the fact you don't even remember the last time he blinked.

You didn't break eye contact, you just looked at him while enjoying his hands on you. A grunt left his mouth before he started kissing your lips again. His fingers pinched your clit and a small scream left you.

"Eddie... Please."

"Fuck, you're gonna kill me." He palmed himself through his pants, and just now you realized you were completely naked while he was fully clothed.

"Why are you still wearing this?" You complained, trying to pull his shirt off him. He helped you, tossing it aside and quickly getting his hands on you again. He almost missed the way your eyes darkened while examining his tattoos.

"You like these?"

"Yeah, it makes you look hot."

Eddie's eyebrows shot up, clearly not expecting the compliment. "Wow, the queen of Hawkins High calls me hot. Never thought I'd see the day. What would your loyal subjects say?"

"Stop calling me that." You chuckled, rolling your eyes. Who would have thought? Maybe you were warming up to him after all.

"Isn't that what you are?"

"Well, Munson, are you gonna do something or just talk?" You teased, repeating his words from earlier.

"Fine, but remember you asked for it."

You'd tease him again and ask what he meant, but he suddenly buried his face between your thighs and licked all the wetness coming from you. His tongue was relentless, and so much better than your dream. He moaned in sync with you, loving to see you crack under him. His eyes closed for a second, savoring your taste, but he opened them just as fast. He couldn't miss the sight of you like this.

You couldn't even think. You'd never felt this good before during oral, you had always felt as if men went down on you just so you were wet enough so they could slide in, but Eddie did it as if it was for his own pleasure. He was almost selfish about it, enjoying it in a way you never thought a guy would. You felt two of his fingers entering you and curling to that sensitive spot.

"Yes, Eddie- Fuck!" You moaned. "I'm getting close."

"You gonna cum, baby? Do it, cum for me. Let go."

There's no way you'd ever admit it, but his use of 'baby' made your orgasm come crashing, quicker than you expected. You screamed, squirming away from his mouth by instinct but he wouldn't let you. He kept his mouth on you until every trace of your orgasm was gone and you had to push him away before it was too sensitive.

You were breathless and had your eyes closed, while he caressed your thigh with his thumb and waited for you to recover. "You okay?"

"Don't look so smug."

He let out a soft laugh. "You're not even looking at me."

"Yeah, but I can imagine."

To your surprise, he stayed quiet and just kept comforting you. The hand brushing against your thigh was supposed to be an innocent gesture, but after he gave you one of the best orgasms of your life, his hand only made your body burn. You slowly opened your eyes, expecting to see a smirk, but seeing instead a loving look on him. "What?"

"Nothing," He smiled. Not smirked, but smiled. "Can I keep going?"

You were kind of taken aback by the sudden kindness, but slowly nodded your head. "Yes, please."

Suddenly, the soft look on his face was replaced by a hungry one. "Please? I like hearing that."

His hands left you as he searched through a drawer from his nightstand. While he was looking for what you assumed was a condom, you admired him. Your eyes examined him up and down, from his messy hair to his flushed cheeks, from his chest to his big bulge. You licked your lips while staring at it, maybe if you asked nicely he'd let you play with it.

"Hey, Eddie?"

"Hm?" He sounded frustrated.

"Can I suck you off?"

His actions ceased, and he paused while looking at you, clearly shocked while you tried to give your best puppy eyes. A sound left his lips, something between a moan and a grunt.

"Fuck. As much as I want that, baby, I really need to be inside you."

There's that 'baby' again. He found the condom and stripped himself of his sweatpants so quick you almost didn't notice the little box full of condoms beside you.

"You get a lot of company, Munson?"

"Why? Are you jealous?" His teasing tone made your blood boil. He didn't even look at you, he was focused on freeing his cock and putting the condom on. You were practically drooling at the sight of his thick member, and you were sure a drop of your wetness just ran down your legs.

You took advantage of his distraction and switched positions quickly, shoving him down and getting on top of him. He was surprised for a second until he huffed with a small smile. "Fine. Have your fun for now."

You positioned yourself so his cock was between your lips as you started grinding your hips against him until you practically got him soaked. "Beg."

"Okay, now you're pushing it too far."

"Beg me to let you fuck me."

Eddie's eyes rolled back and he sighed. "Fine, okay. Please, let me fuck you. Please."

His hands gripped your waist, and every second you kept teasing him, his hold on you would get tighter and tighter.

You were enjoying being on top way too much, but you knew better not to tease him so much. He'd definitely try to take control again and you didn't know if you were able to stop him. Honestly, you didn't even know if you would've wanted him to stop. He looked good on top too. You lined the tip of his cock with your entrance, and slowly slid down.

Eddie moaned as loud as you did, throwing his head back against the bed and closing his eyes. "Jesus H. Christ."

You moved up and down while supporting yourself with your hands on his chest, gazing at his every reaction. He looked so submissive that way, completely at your mercy. Your movement was automatic as you leaned in and bit his neck.

One of his hands buried itself in your hair, keeping you close to his neck as you sped up. He started thrusting into you as well, and you were glad he was holding you, because you knew if you were still sitting up, you would've lost balance and fell right on top of him. You released your bite from his neck and left a trail of sloppy kisses until you reached his mouth. You swallowed his moans with a heated kiss.

Once Eddie felt you starting to get tired, he flipped you both so he'd be on top. "My turn now."

He set his own pace now, a lot rougher than when you were on top, but so much better. He was hitting a spot so deep inside you as his hand started to tease your clit relentlessly. You didn't even know sex could feel this good, but the feeling of him sliding in and out of you while he circled your clit with his fingers was enough to make you lose your mind.

"God, Eddie, you feel so good."

"Give it to me, baby. I wanna feel you cum on my cock." His pace quickened. "Can you do that for me?"

You quickly nodded, too dumb to answer with words.

"Good girl." He growled. "Can't even speak, huh? Does it feel that good, baby? Fuck, you're gonna make me cum too."

Just before you came, you grabbed his face and kissed him again. He rod off both of your orgasms, thrusting and playing with your clit while moaning against your mouth. His movements stopped the minute it got too much, and he just laid on top of you, with his head on your shoulder and his cock still inside of you while you both tried to catch your breaths.

"You know, if you weren't such a bitch to me all this time, we would've been doing this for much longer."

You laughed for a minute, before you felt the guilt starting to show itself. "About that... I..." He raised his head to look at you, interested in your next words. "Are you really gonna make me say it?"

"I have no clue what you're talking about."

Liar. The cheeky smile on his face told you all you needed to know. He wanted to hear you say it, and you felt you should say it as well.

"I'm sorry, okay? It's unfair the way people treated you, and I've known it all along. It's just- If you don't agree with them, they can ruin your life. And I'm pretty pleased with mine. But either way, it was unfair to you and it won't happen again." You said it so fast he'd almost missed it.

Eddie hummed, deep in thought.

"Eddie? Say something."

"So are you gonna take me on a date or what?"

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your-writer-beta-side-piece · 11 months

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Rough Edges : One Shot

Pairings: Jason Todd x afab!Reader

Word Count: 4.4k

Warnings: mentions of blood, gore, and violence, oral (f & m receiving), lots of teasing, degradation (jason todd is a big meanie), a lil bit of a size kink if you squint (hims a big, big boy), an obscene amount of dirty talk, fingering, unprotected sex, jason has multiple orgasms (he’s got stamina, baybee), creampie, cum swapping, and, as always, declarations of love (barf).

A/N: I wrote this for my sweet baby angel @heli0s-writes in a little fic swap we’re having because we like to scream at each other about all the fictional men we want to rail us into a pulp. I love you! I hope this makes your brain melt. Tehe 😈

IF YOU LIKE THIS STORY, PLEASE REBLOG IT.

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your-writer-beta-side-piece · 1 year

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cradle of love

Pairing; Dark!ish!Joel Miller x Fem Reader

Summary; Since the night you told him you loved him, he's only had one thing on his mind.

Warnings; 18+ minors I'll pop ur kneecaps off! uh. so. this is ALL filth! there's dry humping, sort of somnophilia (ur asleep while he humps u), vaginal fingering, p in v unprotected sex, the whole thing is a breeding kink fic, daddy kink towards the end, dirty talk, praise kink (he praises u loads), gratuitous violence/gore, he stabs someone, oral sex fem receiving, swearing, that might be it?

(a/n) okay so. yeah took me a little while. but in my defence, i now give you like four and a half thousand words of smut. and some other stuff. i am actually quite proud of this one now!!!!!! it takes place directly after 'a sentimental noose' but can be read separately i think-title is Cradle Of Love by Billy Idol!! gif not mine!

Word Count; 8.3k ish

masterlist/all joel fics

It’s early, much earlier than he needs to be awake. Almost no one else is up, the building is silent and you’re asleep as well. He’d cracked the window open last night and there’s a bird somewhere near it, singing something melodic.

The only sound in the apartment is the quiet creaking of the bed you and Joel share, the rhythmic rocking of it shifting slightly side to side as Joel moves. He’s barely awake, only semi aware of his surroundings, but aware that you’re still fast asleep. The night before was intense for both of you, and he knows you should sleep in-so when he woke up rutting into you he decided he’d just be as quiet as he can.

He’s spooning you, the big spoon for once, and his arms are wound around your stomach, crossing over each other and holding you to his chest. Some of your hair is tickling his face but he ignores it, too focused on the way his cock is jutting forward against your ass, how he can push his hips forward and feel the friction of his briefs over his member as he thrusts.

His forehead presses against your back as he clenches his jaw, pulls you tighter to him and his movements get messier. It’s an uneven rhythm, erratic and all over the place. There’s a groan building in him as he gets closer to the edge and he swears quietly, trying his damn hardest not to wake you up even though your body is jolting forward every time he drives his cock up between the cheeks of your ass and the bed frame is squeaking a little, protesting his movements.

Joel’s mind is a mess, a jumble of heated, tangled thoughts of the night before. Of you pressing his hand into your stomach-into your womb, telling him he can give you life. He’d been dreaming of it, feverish scenes of you round with his child flashing through his mind and had woken up already moving. He can’t help it-the thought of you filled with him is enough to make his cock throb, enough to make him pulse and grunt and grind into you as you sleep.

It’s a mark of how well he tired you out last night that you still haven’t woken up and his chest swells with pride a little, knowing he’s rendered you so deeply unconscious like this. Breathing heavily, he loosens his arms around you so he can press his palms against your stomach. He rubs them in calming circles, small movements that make him imagine doing it over a small bump. Make him imagine feeling the life growing in you as he soothes you, feeling a baby kick as he rests his cheek against it. It makes his dick twitch and he grunts as he thrusts rougher than before.

You mumble something in your sleep and shift, rolling onto your front a little and stretching your arm out above you-Joel falters when you move, before taking in your new position and pulling himself to lie over you, slipping his arms out from underneath you and bracketing your head with his forearms. He hooks his chin into the crook of your neck this time, lightly sucking at your jaw as he tangles his legs with yours and drops his hips again.

The angle is better this time, but he reaches a hand down to tug at the waistband of your underwear and push them down to make it more satisfying. It’s so hot against his shaft now even though he’s still wearing his underwear, stifling heat pressing in on him and he rocks down against you.

It builds in him slowly, almost unnoticeable until he reaches his peak-his thrusts get even sloppier, messily humping the swell of your ass until something inside him snaps and he groans, trying unsuccessfully to swallow the sound so he doesn’t wake you.

Now the only sound in the apartment is his heavy panting, hot breath blowing across your shoulder as he grimaces at the feel of the sudden wet patch on his briefs. Rolling off of you, he pulls the duvet up a little and turns his head to watch you. Runs his fingers up your spine and watches goosebumps rise in their wake, trails his hand up your side to graze against the curve of your breast and wonders how long it might take when you’re pregnant for your bump to grow big enough that you won’t be able to sleep on your front.

He’s dressed and up and about when you wake, scrounging up some coffee and leaning back on the counter as he watches you sit up. The duvet falls from your chest and his body immediately reacts to the sight of your tits, cock jumping behind his zipper when your nipples harden because of the breeze coming from the window. When you catch sight of him staring at you, you flop back onto your pillow, grumbling about how you wanted to shower with him this morning.

He grins at that, a rare expression on Joel’s face. There’s no one else around and it’s early after all, who’s gonna see but you?

He grins as he walks over, grins as he bends down and presses a kiss to your forehead and grins when you instantly stop grumbling and smile at him.

A week goes by, and he’s simmering with rage.

A week of perimeter issues, Ellie’s troubles, guard training, weapons detail, city trips, hunting, building construction-a week of barely touching you.

He’s seething, boiling inside every time someone asks him to do something. The first day after, it was asking if he could help train some new guards with the guns they just got-so Joel figured he could wait until the next day to be with you. But the day after that it was making sure the new schoolroom was being built properly-so then he figured it’s irritating but he’ll wait another day to do what you both need. The day after that was something to do with Ellie and some girl (he’s still unsure what he spent the day actually doing)-and by that point he was grinding his teeth, coming back to the apartment to find you already asleep. The day after that was a trip to the city with Tommy and a few others, hunting and searching for whatever they could find-he was furious when they got back, barely answering anyone and gripping the hilt of his knife as he thought about his hand over your stomach.

Then the hunting then checking weapons then securing the perimeter and now here he is, waiting by his truck so he and Tommy can go to a gas station they saw way out in the middle of nowhere a few days ago. Great. Just what he wants to be doing. Scavenging an abandoned grimy gas station on a road to nowhere for a few measly supplies instead of pinning you to the bed, pressing your thighs up into your chest and-

And you’re jogging towards him, grin working its way onto your face. Though he’s confused, he can’t help the way his features immediately soften as he looks at you, everything else muted and his body flushing every time you catch his eye. He assumed he’d get used to it, but months have gone by and while seeing you feels like coming home after a long day, he still gets fucking butterflies when you smile at him. Stomach somersaulting, spine straightening, face heating.

Joel quirks a brow at you when you come to a stop in front of him, bouncing on the balls of your feet and giving him a knowing look when his gaze drops to your cleavage, which jiggles ever so slightly as you move.

“Swapped with Tommy so I could come along today-” You take a step forward, raising your eyebrows questioningly, and lean into him as you carry on, “-hope that’s okay with you?”

With a quick glance around to confirm the yard you’re in is empty, you duck your head to press a quick kiss to his jaw, lingering for a second too long and flicking your tongue out against the same spot as you move away. Then you’re walking off, sending an all too innocent smile over your shoulder as you round the truck to get to your side.

“Minx-”

Joel grumbles at you quietly, pushing off the side of the vehicle and subtly adjusting his jeans. One touch from you and he’s ready to go. Figures.

You fill the drive with mindless chatter, just talking about your week and what you did-Joel feels a burst of anger, bothered by the fact he’s hearing all of this for the first time because he’s barely even seen you this week. His hand claps onto your thigh, rubbing up and down gently as you speak. He’s barely even aware when he does this nowadays, an automatic action he goes through the motions of when he’s next to you. It just feels right, like his hand is waiting to be there-he’ll sit down next to you and it will naturally fall to your thigh, soothing mindless circles or brushing his thumb back and forth gently. Joel also barely notices that his hand squeezes, tightens minutely when you talk about patrol you went on with some guards.

You fumble over your words for a second when you feel it, look over at him to see if something’s wrong but he shows no reaction, hasn’t even noticed his grip has tightened and only hums in response to your story.

It tightens again, fingers digging into your skin when you tell him about how one of the guys killed an infected for you. There’s something in the back of his mind that realises now, a subconscious part of him that’s boiling over when he thinks about some other guy, a pitiful guard having the honour of saving your life-the privilege of being in your presence while he was busy doing god knows what. That part of him seems satisfied by his firm grip on you, encourages him, tells him if he just squeezes a little harder you’ll have bruises, marks-Joel’s brands marring your pretty skin. He does so, sliding his palm further up before pressing his fingers back down, pushing his presence into the meat of your thigh and satisfying himself with the sound of your breath hitching. His hands stays like that for the rest of the drive.

It’s dirty. The entire thing is filthy. Most things are nowadays, having been abandoned for over twenty years, but christ. Both of you simply stand by the truck for a full minute when you get out, unwilling to step inside the thoroughly ominous gas station. Joel hears you sigh and turns towards you, watching you cross your arms and huff at the grime.

“Yknow those horror movies they put on downstairs sometimes? Well you probably saw them when they came out originally didn’t you-”

“For the last time darlin’ I was not middle aged when Psycho came out, believe it or not that was before my time-”

“Sure sure, I believe you-”

He barks out a laugh as he replies, “No you fuckin’ don’t-”

“No I don’t-”

Laughs again, tries to ignore the memory of when you’d teased him for being an old man and he’d shown you exactly what he could still do.

“I just feel like someone is going to run out of there and yell at us that if we go any further then we won’t come back because no one everrrrrr doessssss-”

An amused expression crosses his face when you try and take on a scary voice, fixing him with a wild look. It makes him think of Ellie briefly, and the time when you’d joined their little group. When he’d barely spoken to you and yet Ellie had brought you into their family, showed you her Will Livingston books and you’d told her your own jokes, your own stories, treated her like an adult-like an equal. He’d have to thank that girl for not letting him just move on and be his ‘grumpy bitchy lonely usual self’ as she’d so lovingly put it. He’d probably be dead by now if she hadn’t. Things without you don’t seem to have any worth anymore.

“Well, if someone does that at least it means we can go back early don’t it? Cmon let’s get this over with and then we can finally have a couple of quiet fuckin’ days-”

He takes a step forward but falters when you grab his hand and swing your arm with his a little, coming next to him and pulling him toward the building. Joel’s sure his jacket must be visibly moving, pulsing forward as his heart beats heavily at your closeness. Part of him relishes the reaction you draw from him, the way he’s never felt it before you and how he’s allowed to be like this now-the other part scolds him for still catching his breath when he’s near you. It’s been months, after all.

“Fine, fine-but I’m throwing you at the insane guy first and running if it does happen-”

“Wouldn’t expect anything less, sweetheart-”

The words are sarcastic, gruff and sardonic-but he knows you know him, and you laugh as you both reach the door of the gas station, windows cracked and blackened like everything else here.

He’d want you to do it as well, would throw himself at anything, dive in headfirst as long as you got away safe.

The inside of the gas station doesn’t look much better than the outside, and for a second Joel really does expect someone to run out from behind a shelf and scream that this is the end of you both.

But nothing happens, and you move to the right to pick through some old products littering the floor. His hand feels cold when you drop yours from it, fingers itching to reach out again, but he turns to the left and copies your actions, comforting himself with the fact tonight he’ll finally have you again. It’s been too long and his body aches for yours, hurts with need at the thought.

There’s not much in the place, a couple of useless things or disgustingly out of date items of food, so he finds a door near the back, lets you know he’s checking it out and to yell if you need anything. You have the gun he’d given you, but you shouldn’t have to use it. That’s why he’s here.

The door opens up on the side of the gas station, a parking lot with two burnt out trucks and an abandoned car in it. Joel squints against the sun, briefly wondering when it’ll be warm again. It’s been cold weather since you’ve been together, and he often finds himself thinking of the summer clothes you might wear, the tighter shirts and the small shorts. He’s seen them amongst your things, imagined you wearing them and touched himself to the fantasies, but he knows nothing will compare to the real thing.

Shouldering his rifle, he takes a few steps toward the back of the building-but before he rounds the corner, there’s the sound of a twig snapping.

He edges toward the greenery out back, where nature has done its best to reclaim the industrial wasteland Joel currently stands in. The concrete ground is cracked and split, bulging up with shrubbery sprouting out, trees bursting up and some flowers dotted through the invasion-it distracts him for a moment, the sight of such pretty blossoms amidst the dingy ruins.

When he tears his eyes away from the flowers, they land on a man slowly inching toward the back of the gas station. Joel can hear you moving around inside, knows you have no idea there’s anyone else here and realises the man must have thought the same.

It’s a toss up, what the man wants right now.

He could be searching for supplies, same as you two. He could be trying to find something for a family or children. He could be out hunting. He could be like that preacher he and Ellie unfortunately encountered. He could have seen you, could want you for his own sick reasons.

Whichever is true, the risk is too much for Joel. Better to be safe than sorry, right?

His hand reaches for the rifle but he stops, hesitates as he watches the man holster a knife and pause by the wall, appearing to look through a window. He drops his hand when he realises he must be looking at you-drops his hand to his side where the hunting knife he’d sheathed that morning rests on his belt.

The man doesn’t really do anything, just stands there. Watching, waiting.

It’s enough to convince Joel he doesn’t have any remotely decent intentions, and as the man reaches down to a bag by his feet for something, he strides out from the side of the building.

The amount of times Joel has done this means he’s practised, poised and silent as he comes up beside the man, who only registers Joel’s presence and straightens up a beat too late. Late enough that Joel has no problems pulling his knife from its holster, bringing his arm up in a wide arc and smoothly sliding the blade into the back of his neck.

The tip splits the skin of his throat, pokes out like a grotesque mirror of the plants splitting the concrete below.

A river of blood streams down his neck, a veritable tidal wave of glossy redness soaking his shirt as he sputters and gurgles. It’s a simple task for Joel, an addition to a to-do list and he doesn’t react-only the corners of his mouth twitch up when the man coughs and spits up a spurt of blood, splattering over Joel’s jaw a little. He sighs at the feeling, more inconvenienced than anything, and pulls the knife from his neck.

He drops to his knees, evidently having only been held up by the obscene spearing of his throat, coughs and splutters again, attempts to cover the wound with his hands as red stains his palms. Joel watches slightly disdainfully, somewhat bored as the man flops back weakly and lets his hands fall to the ground either side of him.

It becomes slightly more entertaining for Joel when the man tries to talk once more, and only succeeds in pushing a spurt of blood out of the torn flesh, which lands with a splatter on the concrete next to him. Joel huffs out a laugh at the scene, as he watches the spontaneous little fountain of blood, an amusing display worth nothing more than a smile and an exhale.

Joel startles slightly when you knock on the window behind him to try and get his attention.

“Find anything?”

With a quick glance down, he realises that you can’t see the body from your position, how it’s fallen just under the window sill and how the blood is pooling into a gutter below it, pouring down towards a drain a few metres away. If anything, it only serves to reassure Joel, let him know that it’s okay he did that-he was protecting you, and the universe is even helping him clear up the mess. That’s always the hardest part, he thinks briefly.

Joel clears his throat, reaches to pick up the backpack the man had left on the floor and raises it to the window so you can see. Keeps his face angled slightly away, red splatter in the shadows.

“Just this-assume someone just dropped it or left it behind-wait there I’ll come back ‘round-”

You nod happily at him and he can’t help the way his lower belly flares with heat at your easy submission, cock hardening a little as you accept even just the smallest command without question. You don’t even want to check out the back of the gas station, have no interest in verifying Joel’s word-such a simple gesture, but one that shows him how completely you trust him. How perfect you are for him, always taking his word as gospel when it comes to protecting you.

And you should, really-he does all of this for you after all. Raises his body count, does things he would have been sentenced for in a previous life and all to make sure you’re okay.

He walks slowly back to the door, spitting on a scrap of fabric as he goes and rubbing it against his jaw to clear away the splashes of blood. The man has ended up as nothing more than a nuisance, annoyingly. A simple stain to be tutted at and wiped away.

When he walks back into the gas station, you’re standing by a slim set of shelves, turned just enough to the side that he can’t see if they contain anything. When he takes a few steps toward you though, you snap your head towards him, give him a strange, stiff smile and stride over to the door leading back to the truck.

“Anythin’ over there darlin’?”

“Nothing we need, cmon let’s go-I’m starving already-”

He nods at you as you walk out before walking over to the shelves you were eyeing, curious as to what you don’t think you both need. Anything and everything is helpful these days, and your expression worried him a little.

Except when he comes to stand in front of the shelves, he finds himself looking at two boxes of condoms.

His mind goes blank immediately, ears buzzing as he takes in what you said. Nothing we need.

It makes him swear quietly, a gritted ‘fuck’ echoing off the walls as he thinks about the week before, about what he’s been trying not to imagine the entire morning otherwise he would have simply pulled over on the side of the road and taken you there and then.

He’ll do that another time, but at the moment he’s preoccupied with the thought that you don’t want to grab any more condoms, that you’re done with using protection. He knows those pills you found have run out as well, and the next time you’re together he won’t be pulling out.

Tightening his grip on the backpack, he clenches his jaw and strides out after you toward the truck. The door to your side is closed so you must just be waiting for him, sitting quietly until he gets there. It works in his favour because he stops by your side instead of walking round the hood to his, yanks on the handle and pulls it open to your surprise.

The force of his movement pushes the door back far enough that it bounces back a little, creaks and protests his strength as you look up at him with wide eyes. You blink when he drops the bag and his rifle, letting them clatter to the floor before bending slightly and grabbing your thighs-he tugs on them with almost the same force as he used with the door, ignores your surprised yelp as he pulls you until you face him and moves to fiddle with the button and zipper on your jeans.

He doesn’t even look back up at your face as he shifts to kneel between your legs, aware you’re leaning back on your elbows but too focused on tugging your trousers down to glance up. You mutter his name quietly, questioningly, but he ignores that as well. Simply pulls one of your shoes off and your trouser leg with it, leaves the material hanging off one foot so he can yank your knees apart, shoulder his way between them and press his face against your covered cunt.

You breath hitches when he does so, and you let yourself fall a little further back as he pushes his nose against you. He doesn’t move for a few moments, just stays there and inhales you. It gives you time to think about your surroundings, think about the fact that though it’s unlikely, it’s entirely possible that another group of people will come along, think they might find supplies in this dilapidated gas station and instead find you lying half in the seat of a truck, legs chucked haphazardly over Joel’s shoulders as he kneels on the filthy tarmac and shoves his face into your pussy. There’s no doubt Joel wouldn’t take kindly to that, wouldn’t accept the possibility that someone might see you in such an intimate position-a state reserved for him and him only.

Joel suddenly licks a stripe up the fabric covering you, stiffening his tongue and poking it harshly against your clit as he grunts at the taste of you. He flicks the muscle against your bundle of nerves, closing his eyes as you begin to soak through the material and moan at his actions.

One of his hands slides up your torso to grasp at your tits, kneading them roughly as he probes his tongue against your slit, edging the fabric into you slightly as he pushes the tip into your messy entrance through your panties. It feels downright filthy, obscene and dirty as he mouths at you, sloppy open mouthed kisses pressed to your cunt and spit mixing with your juices soaking the fabric. It makes him a little light headed, the wet noises he’s coaxing from your pussy, the taste of your slick on his lips and your whines as he fucks his tongue shallowly into your dripping hole.

Joel knows that there’s every chance people will come along, find him desperately eating you out half in the truck and half on the grimy concrete, but he couldn’t care less. If anyone did show up, it wouldn’t take long to grab his rifle from the floor anyway-he could take care of them and go back to taking care of you in under a minute, most likely. It shouldn’t make it better but it does, the brief thought of bodies littering the parking lot as he swirls his tongue around your clit.

The fantasy makes him groan, makes him force himself harder against you and grope at your chest harshly. Your hips buck up at the feeling and his mind is one thought, the burning need to make you come blazing through him and he closes his lips around your clit, sucks on the swollen bud and grunts in satisfaction when you writhe and jerk in his hold. He knows you’re close, soaked panties clinging to your puffy lips and abused clit throbbing as he suckles at it-it only takes him pinching your nipple, tugging it cruelly, to push you over the edge and make you arch your back, rocking your hips up into his face and forcing out whiny little ‘uh’s with every renewed suck from Joel.

He lets up when you start pushing weakly on his arms, pressing against his head to try and force him off your sensitive cunt. It takes a few seconds but he opens his eyes eventually, lifts his head up and finally looks at you, takes in the flushed and sweaty state he’s reduced you to and reaches a hand down to slide inside his jeans into his briefs-squeezes at the base of his cock, attempting to reign himself in a little.

He watches your chest rise and fall a few times, listens to your heavy breathing before dipping his head and flattening his tongue against your panties again. It punches a quiet swear out of you, hands tugging on his hair to try and pull him away as you throb and pulse under his ministrations. It doesn’t work though and he resists your feeble attempts so he can lick at your slit again, lap up the wetness dripping out of you onto the fabric. A muted sob leaves you, hips jerking in his hold as he drags the material into his mouth and sucks on it, drains your slick right out of it just to taste a little bit more of you.

Joel lets your panties go with a pop, eyes darkening as they fall back to your pussy with a wet slap. He massages slow circles into your stomach, soft movements that almost give you whiplash from the harsh way he’d attacked your cunt only seconds beforehand-your pleasure addled mind is only further confused when he gently tugs the leg of your jeans back over your foot and slides your shoe on afterwards, pressing a soft kiss to your thigh before pulling the trousers up further.

He stands up with a pained groan afterward, forgetting his achy joints in the fog of needing to taste you, and ducks his head under the roof of the truck to lean over you. His chest puffs out a little with pride when he sees your face, red and sweaty and almost slack with pleasure. You make a small noise of surprise when he presses a gentle kiss to your lips, not attempting to deepen it in any way, just content to feel your soft lips on his. He pulls away when you start feeling a little light headed with the need for air, and brushes some hair from your forehead as he whispers into your mouth.

“Thanks for that darlin’-”

That clears your mind a little, makes you furrow your brow in confusion.

“I-jesus-I should be thanking you-why-why are you-”

“I was gettin’ hungry.”

The only response he gets is a soft ‘oh’ as your eyes widen, so he pulls back and lets you sit up properly before shutting your door, walking round to his and sliding into the driver's seat.

You’re staring at him when he starts the truck, lips parted and eyes wide as he acts as though his cock isn’t pressing painfully against his zipper and as if he can’t still taste you.

The journey back is pretty much silent, only the occasional rustle as you shift in your seat, underwear uncomfortably soaked. When he pulls back into the yard it’s still quiet, and you barely even make a sound as you get out of the truck, legs trembling a little and mind consumed with the feeling of Joel’s mouth over your underwear. He turns his head to watch you gingerly walk to the back of the truck and pokes his tongue out over his top lip, running the tip of it through the bristles of his moustache. It’s still saturated with the taste of you.

He stays barely one foot behind you as you both make your way up to the apartment, overrun with the need to have you close.

If he’s being honest he came a little too close to fucking you in the parking lot, mind clouded with thoughts of his come dripping out of you-thoughts of breeding you.

But you deserve better than that, deserve somewhere nicer. He wants to do it right, wants to make you and your future child proud-which is why he doesn’t protest when you tell him you’re tired, that you want to spend time with him but you’re exhausted already and promised Ellie you’d help her out tomorrow morning. He just kisses you on the forehead and nods, nudging you towards the bed and heading to the shower to take himself in hand to thoughts of you.

Joel wakes up lying on you. The bulk of him settled between your legs, front pressed against you and head cushioned on your soft chest.

He wakes up like this fairly often, but this time he’s still overrun with the memory of yesterday, of the truck and the man he’d protected you from, of the condoms you don’t need and his fantasies in the shower.

Most often, he’ll wake you up next. Skate his lips over your breasts, trail marks and gentle kisses up your neck until you mumble a good morning to him. This is one of the rare exceptions you’re touching him instead.

He’d rather you’d woken him up the same way he likes to wake you, but your hands are pushing on his shoulders, futilely struggling against his weight as you try and roll him off of you.

Joel just raises his head, presses his lips together in a thin line and quirks a brow at you in silent questioning-he’s greeted with a sheepish and slightly apologetic look for waking him.

“Sorry sorry-it’s just I promised Ellie-I think I said last night so I just gotta-”

“Wake me up? Was havin’ a lovely sleep on this comfy set of pillows darlin’-”

“Glad you like my breasts for all the right reasons-but no not wake you up it’s not my fault you’re half deaf and…weighty-shush-I mean so I gotta get up and go-”

Your last word is accentuated with a rougher thrust against his shoulder-though it only rocks his upper body slightly before he falls back over you and smiles at your indignant huff.

“You don’t gotta go-you’re not meeting Ellie this morning so let me get back to my pillows huh?”

“I-yes I do-I literally do she asked for my help and I said of course I’ll be there in the morning-and Joel?”

“Huh?”

“It’s the morning.”

“Yeah yeah it is the morning, but I told Ellie you weren’t seein’ her cause you’re busy-”

“I’m not b-”

“If you stop trynna push me off and let me take care of you, you’re gonna be busy real fuckin’ soon-”

Joel finishes by interrupting himself, getting distracted by your tits so close to him and his mind blanks-closes his lips over your pebbled nipple and kneads your other breast roughly, sucking harder when you hum in satisfaction. All he can think is that in a number of months, your chest will be bigger, breasts heavy ready to provide for your child.

His hands migrate to your sides, slip under you as his eyes fall shut and press you up into his waiting mouth, grunting when you gasp and letting your tender flesh go with a wet pop so he can circle the bud lightly with his tongue.

Your hands have stopped pushing at his shoulders, simply digging your fingers into his skin as you drop your head back at the feeling of his warm, wet mouth.

“But-but I said I’d-”

He barely hears you, mind fogged and everything else muted as he dreams of you round with his child, though some of your words get vaguely through to him. You’re protesting. Why are you protesting again?

He sighs when he eventually realises what you’re trying to say and drops his forehead onto your chest, brushes his lips across your sternum and looks up to see you struggle opening your eyes.

“Why won’t you let me do this? S’all I wanna do right now, been waiting all week darlin’-don’t you remember what you said to me? Jus’ wanna make you feel good-”

Joel doesn’t wait for an answer, just shifts down your body as the bed creaks and presses a line of kisses over your stomach, smoothing one of his hands in gentle circles and feeling your soft belly under his palm. Ready, waiting for him.

“Cmon sweetheart-just let me do this-got nowhere to be now after all huh?”

He can feel the moment you agree, the moment you relax in his grip. It clouds his mind again, knowing he only has to say a few words before you comply with him.

“Attagirl-jus’ want you t’lie there and look pretty for me, hm? So good at that aren’t you-”

Breath hitching at his words, you tap on his shoulder lightly to make him shuffle up the bed again, hips settled against yours as he looks down at you in awe. So sweet and soft, so pretty and ready to be with child-

It’s only when you gasp and tug his head down to yours, crush your lips against his roughly that he realises he’s said that out loud. Mind reeling, ears ringing and hips grinding into yours subconsciously.

You swallow his grunt when he recognises your desire for what he’s said, feels the need rolling off of you in waves-it’s the same way he’s been for the last week, desperate and addicted to the thought of it. He rests on one forearm beside your head and slips the other hand between your body, skates his fingers teasingly over your breasts and your stomach and down down down-it feels like too long, like somehow his hand will never reach where you need it to be but then he’s there suddenly.

Cupping his hand over your pussy, simply feeling you as he explores your mouth, letting you writhe and try to buck your hips into his palm. It doesn’t take long for him to give in, doesn’t take long for him to start sucking marks into your neck as he dips the tip of his middle finger into your entrance, just barely edging into you.

The way you whine at the feeling has him rutting his hips down gently and scraping his teeth over an already darkening mark on your collarbone-when your nails dig into his shoulders he can’t resist it, feels like there’s no other option than pressing the digit slowly into you, soaking in the feeling of your dripping walls parting around him and your back arching against his chest.

He sinks the finger into you easily, down the knuckle and so fucking deep. Joel always reaches parts inside you that you barely even knew were there, presses against them just right until you’re keening under him and crying his name-it’s no different right now, even just one finger pumping in and out of your slick channel and the heel of his thumb bumping up against your clit with every thrust.

Lifting his head from your neck, he watches in wonder as your face contorts with pleasure, ignoring the string of spit connecting his lips and a purpling hickey under your jaw.

“Y’so pretty f’me darlin’-gonna be even prettier when y’got my baby inside you won’t you? S’right, gonna be the prettiest when your stomach’s all-all round and-”

It’s a marvel what you do to him, he thinks, that in moments like this he’s suddenly unable to stop talking-that he’ll barely talk to anyone throughout the day and then he’s with you and it’s as though the words are choking him, forcing their way out as he watches you fall apart under him.

It always shocks you a little as well, so used to the stoic grumpy Joel that everyone else knows, even though you’ve seen what’s underneath, that it thrums through you, like his words sink through you and pulse through your cunt, make you flutter and clench around his finger as his fantasies and dreams pour out of him.

“So tight ‘round my finger-gonna be even tighter on my cock I bet-know this pussy’s gonna be so good for me darlin’-shit-stay so fuckin’ tight and keep my come inside, make sure it takes-”

He feels you quiver around the digit steadily sliding in and out of you, feels the way your body tenses a little with anticipation when he talks about you pregnant with his child and he crooks it just so, pressing the pad of it exactly where you need it to be.

Joel bucks against you as your mouth drops open, drives his cock messily against your thigh as you fall over the edge and moan and clench around him, cunt spasming and fingers pressing marks into his arms. He fleetingly thinks he could come like this if you wanted him to, sloppily pushing himself into your soft skin as you writhe and jerk below him. All you’d have to do is ask-he’ll do anything if you ask.

When you come down you tug his face back to yours, lick into his mouth and make him groan and all he can feel is you.

“Fuck-please-cmon Joel just-want you inside me now-please just-said you wanna-shit-see me all-see me round with-will you just-”

One hand grips your hip at that, tightens so hard he knows you’ll have bruises, pretty marks just for him, and he’s nodding before you finish. Nodding at you and shoving his briefs down to find some relief, nodding as he pushes his face into the crook of your neck and making his scruffy beard scrape along your skin.

“Shit-shit-yeah okay-gonna-fuck-gonna fuck you real good sweetheart-gonna make sure you-you got my baby in you-gonna make me a daddy real soon aren’t you?”

His words dissolve into vague mumbles, desperate noises pressed into your neck as he just nuzzles against you, drags his nose up the column of your throat and breathes you in, fills himself with you.

He pulls himself up for a second and looks down to see his cock slide against you, feel the underside drag against your wetness and the tip catch on your clit with every movement. It feels like the first time every time, like he’s never felt you before and he can never fucking believe you let him have you like this, let him fuck you however he wants, let him please you like this and now you’re letting him fuck a baby into you.

Joel’s distantly aware you’re pleading with him just to fuck you already but he can barely hear you, just trying not to drool on your chest when he thinks about how this is happening, this is now-you’re going to have his child, his baby.

He takes his hand from your hip to reach it down, position himself at your entrance. Almost drops his hips the moment he does, feels hot, wet heaven against the head of his cock and has to fight the urge to shove himself into you in one thrust.

You take matters into your own hands and hook a leg around his hip, push your heel into the back of his thigh and he almost buckles against you, body flushing at the need radiating from you. There’s a flush spreading from your chest up your neck, staining your cheeks and he presses his forehead against it, beads of sweat mixing with yours as he pushes himself forward, just moving slow slow slow.

A shuddering breath leaves him, shaky and unsteady as he moves-his pace is almost painful, torturous and just barely soothing the ache inside you, the emptiness. And then his hips are flush with yours, body trembling above you as the head of his cock nudges inside you and presses exactly where you need it. Skin on skin, walls stretched around him and all he can think-

“S’right-’course I was right darlin’-so fuckin’ tight for me-can-fuck-can feel you clenchin’ on my dick-jesus sweetheart-gonna have to relax a little f’me if you want me t’fuck you proper-gonna let me-fuck-let me do this right yeah? Gonna let me fuck a baby into your pretty cunt? Just like that, ah, so perfect f’me-”

Joel feels your chest rise against his forehead, hears the shaky breath leave you as you relax yourself around him and his hips sink down another centimetre. With a gritted out ‘fuck’ you clench around him again, and a strangled groan escapes him, slightly muffled against your skin as he tries to control himself.

“Not-not gonna-shit-not gonna last too long right now sweetheart so-”

You surprise him with a small laugh, breathy and strained as you try to relax again, and brush your fingers through his hair-much to his pleasure as he shudders lightly.

“S’okay Joel-sooner you come sooner I’m pregnant right?”

He does buckle at that, lets his weight fall on you and slips his arms beneath you to press your chest against his, grinds listlessly into you just to hear you gasp and whine at the sheer intensity you’re feeling.

“So fuckin’ good-so so good, lettin’ me fuck you like this-gonna let me come inside this pretty pussy aren’t you? Let me fill you up till you can’t-fuck-till you can’t take anymore-till you’re all-all round ‘nd your stomach’s all swollen ‘nd you’re, shit, carryin’ my baby-”

It’s like his words echo through you, bounce around your skull until it’s all you can hear, like the only thing is Joel-all you can hear and feel and see and smell and taste it’s all Joel telling you how pretty you’re going to look when you’re pregnant, how you’re gonna be such a pretty momma, gonna be the best anyone’s ever seen won’t you sweetheart? Fuckin’ beautiful growing my baby, makin’ me a daddy ‘nd helping grow our little family-so good for me, such a good girl lettin’ me do this-

His hips are only pulling back an inch or so before rutting into you again, reluctant to part from you any further. There’s people moving around in the halls of the apartment building, someone yelling on the floor below but for the moment, for you two, it’s just this. Just the bed rocking gently against the wall, just your gasps as the head of his cock punches into that spot inside you, just his grunts and mumbled praises, his thank you’s spoken into your neck.

His movements get sloppier, thrusts more erratic and you can’t even hear what he’s saying at this point so you wrap your legs around his hips, hold him to your body and feel him press an open mouthed kiss to your collarbone in response.

You’re there before you know it, waves of pleasure steadily rising in you as he grinds down into you and rocks against your clit, giving you just enough pressure to make you tighten around him. Teeth scrape across your neck when you cry out, digging in just enough to leave a mark and work you over the edge, and his arms tighten where they’re wrapped around you, still pressing you up into him. His movements make your nipples graze across his chest, the last bit of blinding pleasure you need before your hips are bucking up under his, legs jerking around his hips and moans falling from you.

“Fuck-attagirl, that’s it-look so pretty when you come on my cock don’t you? Wanna hear it-cmon darlin’-”

“Joel-shit-”

“No cmon-wanna hear you say it f’me-just look so pretty like this don’t you? Use your words sweetheart, tell me how pretty y'look comin' on my cock yeah?”

His words force an embarrassed whine from you, body overworked from his thrusts and his desperation.

“I-jesus-I look-Joel please-”

“You say it and I fill this sweet little cunt, get you all nice and pregnant-just wanna hear it-just once-let me hear you say it-”

Joel slows his thrusts as he talks, makes you whimper at the loss even though every part of you feels strung out and abused, indulges himself in long, languid strokes that make him groan and pant against you.

“God-look-look so pretty-I look so pretty coming on your-on daddy’s cock-”

It’s slightly pathetic the way the words spill out of you, how you hiccup through them a little and drop your head back on the pillow as you utter the name-but Joel gasps at you, sucks in a heaving breath and slams his hips into yours one last time, feeds as much of his cock into you as he can as he coats your walls with his come, does exactly as he promised and fills you up, stuffs you to the brim until you feel wetness dripping out of you, squeezing past his shaft and sliding down to your ass.

He feels it too though, pulls himself up with some difficulty and slides his cock out of you-before you can ask he’s reaching next to you to grab his pillow, tugging on one of your legs so he can slot it under your hips and prop you up. You hum contentedly when you realise, let your eyes fall closed as Joel just watches, watches your hole flutter around nothing and watches drops of his come slip onto the pillow. It won’t do.

He’s leaning over you again suddenly, pressing soft kisses to your neck and it’s so gentle, intimate and a brutal contrast from the way he then presses two fingers to your clit, rubs little circles over the hood and shushes you when you whine at him.

“That’s it-gotta come one more time for me darlin’-jus’ one more time-such a good girl lettin’ daddy fill you up but y’gotta let me make you come again yeah? Gonna help-gonna improve our chances huh? Gonna make sure my-fuck-seed takes-that you’re gonna be pregnant with my baby-our baby soon-yeah cmon-just a little more-did so well f’daddy just now, you can do it again-”

“Can’t-shit-don’t think-”

“Yeah y’can sweetheart, gonna be good for daddy aren’t you? Know you’re gonna be such a good girl and come again won’t you-”

It’s downright cruel the way he croons at you, gruff voice tinged in sweetness as he forces you over the edge again, fingers petting tight little circles on your clit until your mouth drops open in a silent scream, back arching and legs trembling.

The look in his eyes is…new, something you don’t think you’ve seen before as he stares down at you-though not really at you, more at your stomach, like he’s expecting to see some sign of life already.

He drags his fingers away slowly, hesitant to stop touching you as always, and he leans over you once again, hovering his face over yours and brushing your lips together. Your mind is in some sort of fog, clouded by Joel’s touch and you don’t even register that he’s speaking until he stops, until the words slowly seep through your pleasure-drugged thoughts.

“I’ll tell the others you don’t feel too well yeah? Let ‘em know you won’t be around this week-gotta take every chance we can right?”

plz comment or reblog if you like this so I know! and to spread my work since likes don't count!! thank u my loves!!!

if you liked my taglist post and i did not tag you, then you liked it after i clearyl said 'do not like this post'. i do not appreciate people who so clearly disregard what i ask of people on my blog.

tags; @some-insomniac-casual @lunxramour @mando-thirst @aphroditesblunt @quinnverses @bunnywithacarrot @bitchyikes @pocket-of-possibilities @pseudonymist @allywritesthings @notsosaneemma @nintenpleasedont @userpedros @marvelcriminalhoe @fanfaresandflowers @cloudroomblog @queerly-anxious @fadinggiantdeaneggs @xuniverseofbeachesx @melonlord280 @harmonity-vibes @bat-fugokinnie @nihilisticsuccubus6 @dollygalore @km575 @allfoolsinluv @rav3n-pascal22 @certainsoulalienpurse @angstylittlepascal @ketxamine @g-a-b-i @thelibrarywhore @roosterz @spookyanamurdock @janetpontiac @kurbisdurbis @sisgotdemons @umnitsa @melavoris @millersdjarin

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #dark!joel miller #dark!joel miller x reader #the last of us #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #joel miller x you #dark!joel miller x you #tlou

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your-writer-beta-side-piece · 1 year

Text

too close

joel miller x f!reader

a/n: more porn, idk what to say lmao. i want him to be cold and rough and i want it to hurt, y’ know what i mean?? anyway, here’s a supremely pissed off joel — enjoy! x

word count: just under 3.1k

warnings: swearing, very brief violence/mention of weapons, a close call, clicker attack, joel being a hero and being annoyed af about it, angsty vibes, the king of emotional constipation, SMUT 18+ ONLY: brief hand job, being restrained by being held down, unprotected p in v, very rough sex with bit of pain, no orgasm for reader coz punishment, cum shot over da assss

He hadn’t spoken.

Nothing. Not a single damn word since it happened.

Your heart still thunders in your chest, pounding in your ears and threatening to break free from its bone cage. The adrenaline has long worn off, leaving you with a tremble in your hands you can’t quite seem to get under control.

The weight of it still lingers on your body. The inhuman high pitched roar of it still circles your mind on an endless loop. The overwhelming rush of fear had paralysed you, frozen you under its brute strength and your touch had been numb around your weapon. That should’ve been it for you—done. Dead. Torn to fucking shreds right there on the filthy, muddied floor.

Keep reading

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your-writer-beta-side-piece · 1 year

Text

too close

joel miller x f!reader

a/n: more porn, idk what to say lmao. i want him to be cold and rough and i want it to hurt, y’ know what i mean?? anyway, here’s a supremely pissed off joel — enjoy! x

word count: just under 3.1k

He hadn’t spoken.

Nothing. Not a single damn word since it happened.

Keep reading

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x you #joel miller imagine #joel miller smut #the last of us fic #pedro pascal x reader #joel miller fanfic #joel miller angst #joel miller fic #joel miller #joel miller x reader smut

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your-writer-beta-side-piece · 1 year

Text

I love you in every timeline - Prologue

Pairing: Sebastian Sallow x Fem!Reader

Words: 1782

Chapter Warnings: angst if you squint, Harry Potter characters appearance, use of (Y/N) but not excessively, some swearing, use of 2nd person for the reader

Summary: "He turned around, and the world seemed to stop around him. She had followed him: into another timeline, into another universe.". In which Sebastian, in his search for a cure in the Dark Arts, finds himself 100 years into the future and meets his most trusted companion's descendant (who looks far too similar to the girl he was once secretly in love with).

A/N: this is the first english fic I've written, so I'm terrified. Anyway, Trimetravel! AU with Sebastian Sallow. Some background info: Reader is not MC; Reader is a Gryffindor, MC was a Slytherin; MC was a Pureblood, Reader is a Muggle Born. Also, english is not my first language so if you find any mistakes, I deeply apologise. Not proof-read (for obvious reasons).

Sebastian paced the corridors, a frown adorning his face.

He had just come out of the Headmaster's office due to the absolute disaster that had occurred to him just a few hours ago.

After weeks of research, he had finally found something that could help him, a breakthrough with which he could finally achieve his goal. An artefact so powerful that it could break the fabric of time and space, something that could help his poor sister live a happy and healthy life again. He did not care that they were not on speaking terms at the moment: he would find a way to talk to her so that she would take this last chance. He would force her if he had to. It was his last hope, and Merlin knows he had tried everything.

If he had known about the artefact's effects earlier, he would have thought twice before using it.

"So, Mr Sallow, could you be so kind as to tell us how you came to be in our time?" the Headmaster, who had earlier introduced himself as Albus Dumbledore, asked him.

Truth is that not having stopped dwelling with the Dark Arts in search of a cure for Anne had led him to find himself in another timeline instead. His face twitched: in terms of unlikelihood, the scales seemed pretty unbalanced.

It was a brief conversation, really; Sebastian omitting some details (like his friendship with an Ancient Magic wielder or the murder of his uncle, for which he bore full responsibility) and grimacing against his own will when the Headmaster looked at him through his half-moon shaped glasses as if asking him, "Why are you lying to me?" He pushed the thought away as quickly as it came: it wasn't like he could read his mind… or could he?

He breathed a sigh of relief when the Headmaster dismissed him after giving him specific instructions on how to behave until they found a way to return him to his timeline - one of which was, "Please don't inform anyone of your condition unless it's absolutely necessary." That seemed quite reasonable to him, so he nodded.

The artefact was damaged, as expected, and unlikely to work again unless a powerful form of magic came into contact with it and repaired it: something like Ancient Magic, perhaps, or a miracle.

"I see you're still causing trouble everywhere you go, aren't you, Mr Sallow?" the familiar voice of Phineas Nigellus Black mocked from his portrait, effectively startling him. He looked up and into the eyes of his old Headmaster, and his mouth fell open at the sight of him. Before he could say anything, Black disappeared, and a woman with severe blue eyes and long robes escorted him out of the office.

He looked around at his familiar surroundings, which would have been almost comforting if it wasn't for the nameless faces looking at him curiously: Hogwarts students tended to recognise each other effortlessly, and anyone who didn't fit into that bundle of familiarity was to be ostracised. He remembered all too well when he was the one helping the new fifth-year find her way around these same corridors, except he didn't need guidance: this was his home, after all.

But he did have a guide, and she wasn't as charming a student as he was either.

The Head of the Gryffindor House walked right next to him, a stern expression on her face made even more prominent by the shadow of her large witch hat. The woman Sebastian had come to know as Minerva McGonagall was also the Transfiguration teacher and Headmaster Dumbledore's right hand, at least it seemed that way, which was no doubt why she was accompanying him rather than the Head of his own House.

He decided not to ask himself any questions and do what the Headmaster told him to: attend class, fit in, and pretend to be either a transfer student or someone with a complex background - he hadn't decided which story to tell yet (and both of them, in a way or another, would be true).

The clacking of Professor McGonagall's shoes stopped so abruptly that he almost would have missed it if she hadn't started speaking.

"You're about to meet two of your new classmates. Prefects of the Gryffindor House," she raised her left arm in their direction, and his eyes followed it to two red and gold robes leading into warm faces.

"I am pleased to introduce you to Ms Hermione Granger -" she gestured to the girl with curly hair to her left, who wore a friendly smile all while maintaining a serious and clean look, "- and Mr Ronald Weasley." Sebastian's eyes shot to the boy to his right when he heard the familiar name, and to be honest, he might not have needed an introduction at all: the red-haired boy gave him a wry smile, his freckles standing out even more in the natural light. He would have recognised those features anywhere.

Finally, he noticed their uniforms. He didn't pay much attention to the boy's - he himself also wore a very similar one, uncomfortable and informal as it seemed to him - for his eyes were fixed on the girl's. She was wearing a grey cardigan with red and gold trim, the colours of her House, and her skirt was much shorter than he remembered, with black denier thighs covering the rest of her legs. He felt himself blush slightly and averted his eyes.

He wondered why the Slytherin prefects were unsuited to this situation: at the end of the day, he was a Slytherin too. He didn't need to undergo the Sorting again because nothing would have changed - and the Hat would have recognised him as he doesn't forget easily, but he decided to leave those questions for another time.

McGonagall turned back to him and briefly adjusted his robes, her face softening slightly, "For the time being, it is best if you don't draw attention to yourself. We will find a solution," she straightened her posture and nodded at him, "Welcome to Hogwarts." She turned on her hills and walked away, leaving him with the two Gryffindors.

He studied their faces for a moment, searching for the right words to say, deciding on which story to tell, but the only thing he could muster was: "How come you're Gryffindors?"

The two students stared at him, appalled, and he mentally slapped himself. He wanted to correct his statement and explain his intention, but the girl stopped him before he could even form a coherent thought.

"You're wondering why they asked us to guide you and not the Slytherin prefects, am I right?"

Either his question wasn't that unclear, or the girl had excellent deduction skills, and judging by the epiphany on the other boy's face when he understood the meaning of her words, it was most likely the latter.

He sighed inwardly and nodded, mentally promising not to stumble over his words again. The boy chimed in: "Because otherwise you'd have to deal with Malfoy, and he's an idiot-" the girl slapped him on the arm and gave him a warning look before turning back to Sebastian.

Malfoy, he thought. One of the most famous pure-blood families. Now he knew why a Weasley would want nothing to do with him. He wondered if they still held the same values as in his day: if the Malfoys were still blood maniacs, and so was the person they spoke of, or if he wanted to distance himself from his family as Ominis did. Judging by Ronald's opinion of him, he did not think that was possible, but then again, he did not know the guy. Maybe things had moved on after a century: no blood wars, discrimination or superiority complexes. Perhaps this was all just a simple rivalry between two students from different Houses.

"Professor McGonagall thought us to be best suited for this difficult situation. No other student but us knows about your… misadventure."

To call it a "misadventure" would be an understatement, Sebastian thought. As it turned out, however, he didn't need a story to tell: they already knew everything. He didn't know whether to feel betrayed by the Professors who had decided to disclose this information or relieved that he didn't have to go through this alone.

"Where have you been?!" called a voice from the end of the corridor, directly behind Sebastian.

He turned around, and the world seemed to stop around him.

He definitely didn't have to go through this alone because there she was. Standing a few feet away from him, looking straight at him, was the person who had accompanied him on all his adventures.

She had followed him: into another timeline, into another universe.

He felt his lips twist into a grin, and he beamed at the sight of her. Had she been looking for him?

He frowned a little as he noticed her expression: she seemed annoyed, almost angry. Perhaps she had no intention of following him and had just ended up here for no reason? Were the two of them connected on a deeper level than he thought? Or perhaps she was just worried for him and angry he didn't look for her too?

The girl started to walk towards them, and his smile widened even more the closer she got. She was almost there when he realised she wasn't sparing him a glance.

Instead, her eyes were focused on the red-haired boy next to him, who was staring at her in horror, looking completely terrified. Sebastian looked back at the girl, finally noticing the red and gold tie around her neck where a green and silver one usually belonged, a crease in her eyebrows that wasn't there before, and her eyes were a different colour than he remembered.

What the hell is going on here?, he thought, staring at her wide-eyed.

"Ron, for God's sake, I've been looking all over for you! Do you intend to give me back my book before class starts, or should I pull a new one out of a hat because you can't use your own?" she threw her hands in the air disapprovingly.

Ron stuttered briefly before hesitantly pointing at the Slytherin boy next to him, "I've just had too much to do. Prefect stuff, you know."

The girl scowled at him before turning to the said boy, her eyes softening slightly.

"Oh! You're the new fifth-year!"

Sebastian's eye twitched. How bloody ironic.

"I'm Sebastian Sallow," he replied.

"Nice to meet you. I'm (Y/N) (Y/L/N)."

His breath caught in his throat. He could recognise that surname anywhere, but your name sounded deaf to his ears.

You weren't her.

#sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow x mc #hogwarts legacy #wizarding world #sebastian sallow x reader #sebastian sallow x you #hogwarts legacy mc #harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #sebastian sallow fanfiction

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your-writer-beta-side-piece · 1 year

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keep close | part II

joel miller x f!reader [5.2k] summary: It's the oldest case of blinded by love ever seen. All of the doubts and pining must have entertained the gods all this time. That's the explanation you settle for when you discover that just like you, Joel has been suffering in silence. Wanting. Craving you. 📝 This is the continuation of part 1 but it can be read as a stand-alone. If you enjoy it, reblogs and comments make all the difference. 🏷️ Pining, idiots to lovers, sexual tension, smut build-up.

masterlist | part one ←

Everything was so fucking green. You hated it.

"Why d'you hate it?" Joel asked.

Unlike you, his recovery advanced fast. Bruises and cuts had the 'fading to yellow' tonalities, and he was now hunting deer and other animals with Ellie so you three did more than just survive winter. "'Cause I never see it." It's so beautiful out there. "Ever stopped to think about how the world looks healthier and prettier than it has in thousands of years, and we're all stuck inside walls?"

Joel usually takes a moment or two to reply, but when those moments stretch on, you look up from the floor to where he's sitting on the couch and—oh.

He's doing it again. Looking. Staring at you as if he's thinking a hundred things. You freeze under his gaze again, waiting for it, begging in your mind that he'll do it...

His hand reaches out in direction of your face, and everything inside you lights up.

He touches your hair.

Ever since that incident where you two were sleeping together a little closer than ever before, Joel's taken a liking to your hair.

Usually, the idea of anyone touching you, let alone your hair, is enough to make you break out in hives.

With him, you lean against the touch.

The hand on the side of your head starts doing sweet, caring movements, and you force yourself to open your eyes.

Joel breaks you out of your thoughts by wondering, "What would you do if you were outside?"

That takes your memory back. You close your eyes, getting lost in his touch for a moment. "Probably... play something."

"Play what?"

Ignoring how his voice surrounds you when your vision is gone is difficult. "Anything that requires a ball." You somehow manage it. "My brothers and I—" their mention chokes you. Grips you by the throat.

As always, Joel waits.

"My brothers and I loved playing... anything," you chuckled. "It's the only time I wasn't bored."

"What did you enjoy the most?"

"Uh. Probably volley? I liked keeping the ball up high." You open your eyes then, missing the sight of his. Joel's watching his own hand in your hair and, in exchange, you get to watch his face. Before he can dive more into your past for his own distraction, you nudge his hand with your head. "I'm proud of you."

Joel knows exactly why, and still, "Why?"

You roll your eyes. "For making El believe in Santa Claus."

It happens again—Joel smiles. One week's passed since the incident and you're still mesmerized every time. "I don't think she'd believe him for too long."

"Joel."

He laughs through his nose, then places his gaze on your eyes. "I don't know why you'd be proud of me for that. It's stupid."

"Letting her go hunt on her own is stupid?"

"Sure is." He had a damn point, and you hated the world for it. "We both know how it could go."

"We do. And still, you allowed her to feel like a person who has some control over her life and who's capable of using her own hands to live." As someone who waited years for that same opportunity, you knew what it meant. "You don't know what this means to her, but I do."

Joel lived a life before chaos was the new natural order. He takes a second, his hand pausing its ministrations before he nods and continues his petting. "I believe you."

That means the world to me. "Thanks."

This time, Joel doesn't answer.

His hand keeps doing the thing it's grown fond of, and you keep pretending your body is not growing dependent on it like plants need air, water, and the Sun.

You think his hands and eyes on you might be your Sun.

You wish you could do the same for him.

The idea of rejection is what holds you back from so much.

Before last week, before he did this for the first time, the physical distance kept between you both was your seal of confirmation that Joel knew about your feelings. That he knew how much you burned for him, for a touch of his.

Now, you aren't so sure.

Then, you cried. Months ago, before this last ordeal of fuckery made your little triad retreat to a cold cabin in the mountains, you cried over the mere thought that Joel saw you as he did Ellie.

Like a daughter.

It plagued you until it showed up in your dreams and made you weep because of it.

All your life you waited for the moment when the desire for someone became real. When wanting and feeling a connection became as tangible as the tension that cloaked the quarantined city every day.

When it came, it was him.

Joel breaks you out of your thoughts with a chuckle, "You remind me of a cat."

You were leaning against his touch again. This time, you keep your eyes closed. "Feels nice." More than nice. "So nice."

He laughs again. "I can see that."

That pulls your eyes to open. Joel's face is fixed on you. His right hand is hidden by his shirt, tucked on top of the cloth soaked with medicinal paste. It's why he took the touch after a lot of arguments, minutes before Ellie left for the hunt. "You're a cat, too," you argue.

Joel raises one eyebrow at that. "How?"

"Skittish."

"I'm skittish?" the smile is making its way back to his lips.

You nod. "I'd pet you too if I didn't think you'd hiss and run for the hills."

Fuck. Barely are the words out of your mouth before you feel the heat creeping up your neck to cover your face. Out here, there are lamps with candles.

Joel sees you with clarity.

A deer caught under the spotlights. Not a cat, then.

It's his smile, opening slowly but surely, that makes the tension leave your shoulders. "Ellie says I can be a grouchy hedgehog with anger issues. One that stinks. And you... wanna pet my hair?"

Ellie's a child, Joel. I want you. "El is a sharp-tongued kid who loves making you frown." It's also the truth. "And yes. I do," in a much lower voice, you finish with, "it looks soft."

Joel shakes his head, his smile widening. "Unbelievable."

"What?"

"My dirty hair. It looks soft," he repeats, fixing you under his gaze.

You look away. "Nevermind," you mumble.

Joel should remain still on that couch, but he moves. Laughing, his hand goes back to what it did before, and pulls you closer as his upper body leans forward. He sort of—nuzzles. It's not a kiss—Joel just touches his nose to your hair, and you feel his laughing coming out through his nose.

When he stops laughing, he leans back down on the couch.

His tender touch on your hair continues.

"You're so..." he trails off, and you wished you were still looking at him. "I wouldn't run," he adds.

That gets your attention. Your eyes find his, and your heart seems to grow two sizes with the way it beats. "No?"

"No."

Immediately, your eyes fall to the couch he's lying on—you hate it. It's small. Old. With no room for another person there. "I'll show later that it's nice," you settle for.

Even if the couch could fit a whole family of three, you know that you'd remain where you are.

"Later?"

"Yeah. No space for me up there."

"Oh." Joel sits up in a single motion, causing you to sit up straight. Your cheek was resting on the small part of the couch his body wasn't, but now, you watch as he lifts up his shirt to inspect his bruised side.

The second you see skin, usually, you avert your gaze. This time, you inspect the colors and healing with him. It looks... ok. Still painful, just as your own body is, but no shooting pain with every move you make.

Joel places the rag on the couch without care and nods. "C'mon. We were up all night re-making the supplies, and El's only gonna be back in a couple of hours. We should rest."

Following Joel is the norm by now. Wordless, you walk behind him in direction of the room.

The mattresses are still pushed together.

There are three backpacks with several items placed in front of them on the other side of the room, a handful of handles spread around the corners, and on top of that old brown blanket, Ellie's drawing book.

"She was here again," you tell him.

Joel's kneeling in front of his backpack with the cassette player in hand. "I don't know why. Her room's the only one with an actual bed."

"She's restless," you say as you move her notebook to the floor, "and ever since you taught her how to scout perimeters, she uses that opportunity to find 'cool shit' around places."

Joel hums in reply, and then you hear a click.

In a very low volume—low enough that only these walls must be capturing sound, his tape Saxophone Colossus fills the air with a gorgeous sound.

He makes his way to the bed and lies right next to with you a grunt.

Your bodies' sides are touching. He places his left forearm under his head, using it as a pillow, and then turns his head to the side where your waiting eyes are already observing him.

"She found the water heater," Joel agrees.

His voice is always lower here. Either that or you're in closer chambers and always use that as an excuse to drown in it. "She did."

"Can you turn it on to heat up some water when she comes back?"

You nod, smiling at him. This part is so good. "'course," you want to scoot closer, but—always but. "I'd rather prepare three baths measuring the water with a coffee cup rather than skin animals alive."

Joel's side smile returns. He stares for a moment, and says, "I don't know how you learned it that well. You hate doing it."

"I learned it 'cause I had to." For her. For Ellie, it goes unsaid. "Doesn't mean I'll ever want to ever again."

"Thank gods they didn't butcher my arm, then."

You close your eyes, whining a little. "No. Please—don't even joke about it."

Joel laughs. "I'll make sure to keep my arm. For both of your sakes."

"Thank you," you open your eyes again.

"No problem," his grin is kind of intoxicating. From this up close, watching Joel smile does to you the same that a full glass of bourbon does. "C'mere," he tilts his chin down at the same time as he stretches his arm to your head, "there's space now."

It hits you what Joel's doing. Inviting you in.

Call it instinct. When you raise your upper body just enough for his arm not to linger awkwardly in the air, you're still registering what is going on, and then—

his chest.

Joel guides your head there, and as it's custom, you follow.

It lands you where you dreamt of being for months now.

His body adjusts underneath you, getting comfortable.

You're so lost in the feeling of his heat that you miss the beat. When you feel his breathing becoming even and his hand moving in your hair, you notice how comfortable you are.

How perfect it feels.

Joel pets your hair for a little while before you manage to find yourself again.

A song must pass and in it, your mind lives through the most blissful few moments of peace and quiet it's ever had.

Nothing happens. No thoughts, no doubts, just this.

When you come back to what is reality, no matter how dream-painted it looks, Joel's heart sings under your ears.

You can hear it beating.

Then, you remember why you're here now. "Can I do it?" you ask.

Your body remembers it can move and does something else it's been dreaming of for a while. It cuddles. It adjusts itself in order to be comfortably aligned with his, and your chin tilts upwards to get a look at his face.

From this angle, all your see is beard until he looks down. "Do what?" The question is betrayed by the hint of a smile on him. It might be a product of your own rapid heartbeat, but Joel seems to gain a little bit of color. "Pet my 'soft' hair?"

"I can hear the air quotes and I don't appreciate them."

You love to make him laugh. This time, you get to feel it. Even if it all goes down someday, at least you'll always have this memory. "You can," he replies once he's done laughing.

Breathe in, you decide this position is just fine, and move your right hand up until it finds his hair. Breathe out.

The angle is uncomfortable—not the best, nor the worst, but it does its job.

It feels greasy when your hands run through them, but not dirty. It is as soft as you imagined it.

It takes him some time too — one song and a half — before Joel's body is fully relaxed. His heartbeat takes the longest.

You feel the times when he lifts his left arm to check the clock to see if Ellie is still in her two-hours time.

None of you sleep, but that doesn't matter.

Rest nowadays goes beyond hours shutting down the brain. Laying there with Joel is the most you feel truly rested, even if the circumstances are these.

Whatever leads to you in his arms, you'll take it.

It's worth the wait. Makes you feel alive.

Ellie eats like a starved animal, every time.

"Slow down, kid, jesus fuck," you tell her, without fail, every single time.

By now, she does slow. It's like she needs a reminder—there is food, and we'll find you more if you need it.

Once, Joel wondered what the fuck did they feed her in that military school. You're unsure if you want to know.

"Did you two rest?" she asks with her mouth full.

"Really?" he gives her the look of 'gross, El', but she only rolls her eyes at him. "And yeah, we did."

"I already warmed up the water for showers." The wood bath structure was perfect for a shower, and heating up all of the baths inside that room already made the temperature rise a little. "You can go first."

"Telling me I stink?" she asks you.

You grin. "Always do, bug." Little bug. That's who she was to you—a nature's wonder. "Not enough showers in the world to change that."

"We should be honest with her," Ellie turns to Joel, and you think oh here it comes. "She can't smell herself."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Joel replies in faux seriousness. "I'm certain all three of us smell like fields of flowers. The one that's most us, y'know? Like me, for example, I'm clearly a blue orchid."

It's been like that since those guys jump you three. Whatever lock kept Joel doing his best to push you two out, was just gone.

He presses his makeshift plate closer to lean in your direction and say, "Do I smell like orchids? Is it amazing? Any hints of some type of wood underneath?"

Joel's silly.

It's not something either one of you expected but welcomed with open arms.

He'll say the stupidest things to make Ellie laugh. He acts, and then winks in your direction to say 'gotcha'.

Ellie leaves for her shower, and leaves you two alone.

The air's back to what it was before she arrived.

It's always been different without her around, but now it's this. Joel finishes his meat and cleans the tip of his fingers with his lips. You try to look away. You fail.

He pulls you back. "Can I ask you something?"

You're almost done with your meal, but now that he's talking and his whole focus is back on you, the hunger left. Switched. "Always."

"Do you feel... lonely?"

What a stupid, and painfully sharp question. "No." I'm scared to ask the same. "Of course I don't," you say. "There's you. El. I'm... well-accompanied."

Whatever he was looking for, the answer must deliver. "Okay." He looks in the direction of the bathroom —Ellie— and then back at you. This time, he scoots closer to you and fits himself to fit in your side.

You open up to him, happy to create more space.

You'd wrap yourself around his whole body if you could. Make a home somewhere between his arms and his thighs. His smile always in line of sight.

With arms wide open, Joel pulls his chair, screeching the floor until he's content with the proximity. His head lays on top of your chest, and your hands immediately go to his hair.

There's no music to measure time, but you've grown fond of the 'peace and quiet' he always went on about.

Eventually, he speaks. "We can't fall asleep here."

You laugh against his hair. "It hasn't been even five minutes. You know she's mixing cold and 'hot scalding water' until the temperature's just perfect like she's a mad scientist until now. We have at least twenty minutes."

"Hmmm." He nuzzles his head, and you pray your hummingbird of a heart won't disturb him.

Joel asked you about what you thought of his plans for once you two were healed. That's what you both discussed with Ellie as you ate.

The conversation changes two or three times before he lands on it.

"Well—after all of it. Tommy, or Fireflies—what do you want?"

You're still lost in the last topic, and the feeling of his hair running like silk through your fingers. "Do we even know if we trust them?"

"Trust who?"

"The Fireflies, obviously."

"Ah. Hm. I suppose we don't," on your arms, Joel nudges you with his body. "Forget 'em for a sec."

You open your eyes and his head is lying so nicely on your shoulder. He locks eyes with you, and asks. "What do you want after that?"

Like that. As if it's simple. "Are you asking if I want ice cream or move to the Arctic?" What an absurd. "I don't fuckin' know. I hope I'm alive. In one piece. And so are you two. The end."

"You don't want anythin'?"

It's infuriating. He is right there, looking up at you with those stupid gorgeous brown eyes and, "It's not that simple," comes out before something else does.

Not enough of an answer, apparently. Joel shakes his head. "'s just a scenario. A 'what if' for the future, since we can't do them about the past. Indulge me."

"So, like, a hypothetical world where you, and El, and I, we're all good. And we... found Tommy. Or maybe the Fireflies."

"Yeah."

"And they've given us a little more than just 'she's the cure' to work with... And we can—I don't know, sit back and watch some scientists do science? That's the scenario?"

"You're paitin' it much better than me," he smiles. "Go on."

You roll your eyes. "In that scenario—I want ice cream."

Joel groans. "Oh, c'mon." He sighs, and whispers your name under his breath. He leans close enough for his hair to tickle your cheeks. "Tell me. Somethin' you always wanted growing up, I don't know."

"It's a difficult question!" you defend yourself, smiling despite being cornered by his new musings.

"It is. And you can think on it, if you want," Joel nuzzles his head to comfort once again on your shoulder, then closes his eyes. "I'm just curious about the stuff you wanted to do before someone threw a mission on your lap, that's all."

"Okay. I'm thinkin'."

"I can hear the engines turning," he whispers. You poke the side of his body, because you know now that you can, and then—, "I already know you're gonna ask me the same so I'll start thinkin' about my own answer to. And don't bullshit me—if you tell me you'd rather have an x-burger instead of ice cream I'll poke a finger in one of your bruises."

"You wouldn't."

"Try me," he laughs.

"I'd kill for an x-burger, now that you mentioned," your voice lowers to a whisper too.

"Same. Now shhh and think. I'm sure you've had aspirations beyond babysitting the unique child and teaming up with my ugly mug."

That's what stops you. Ugly mug.

Your eyes open, and the intensity in them must pierce through his darkness, because Joel feels the eyes on him and looks straight at you. "What?" he looks confused.

Your first mental lap is to be angry—

how can he not see it? it's right in front of him—but then.

Insecurities.

The ones you have and cloud your thoughts with every rising Sun—of course Joel had them, too. He was older, this world was far from kind, and—

He gets up, looking every bit as lost in thoughts as you are, and starts gathering the things from around the fire.

You took too long to answer, and his nervousness always shows up in one of two ways: sleep, or organizing.

"You genuinely think that?" you ask after a second.

Joel gathers the plates in his hand and uses the snow water to rinse them. "Which part? That I think you deserve more or that my mug is ugly? 'Cause yes to both."

"That's—wow." Your laughter is dry, something very unusual.

It makes him look at you. "Wow what, woman?"

He only calls you that when he's getting impatient. "That's crazy to me."

"What is? I never asked you either one of these questions 'cause the first one could be misread—I don't want you thinkin' I'm tryna get rid of you—"

"Thank god."

"—and the second one." He sighs, and puts the plates together. Everything that's not being used always goes back to the backpacks in cases of emergency. Joel looms there over the sink with them in hand, and you wait. "I'd say something stupid like 'does that kind of thing ever matter anymore' but the truth is, I can't see a scenario that it doesn't, and I'd rather live without your honest opinion about this."

"I am always honest in my opinions," you agree.

"Exactly. That's why I never asked you what you thought of my face—I can sleep without that one," he concludes.

"You were right, too. Saying 'does beauty matter anymore' would be stupid 'cause we always looked and always will look for things that we think are pleasing to the eye. It's human nature, don't you think?"

He nods, and then moves to where the backpacks are to put away the cans and plates. "It is."

"I think a lot of things are beautiful. Mostly it's nature, though. And woman. D'you think I'm weird for that?"

Joel looks over his shoulders and the answer is written all over his face.

You shrug your shoulders. "I know some people who definitely would."

"I know some people who have fungi tentacles exiting their mouths. We've learned these past few years that our species isn't the smartest."

"Touché," you laugh. "I do think you're handsome, though."

It freezes the air as if someone opened a door and let the cold air inside.

"Not that you asked—but," you look away from his frame, losing the confidence to look at him as you go on, "you're... beautiful." Most men would hate that adjective. You know that because you heard it from your brothers—only women are 'beautiful'. "I know men don't like that word used to describe them, but—"

"What men?"

"I don't know," you shrug again, wanting to have a shell to retrieve out of nowhere. "Most men? It's what my brothers told me."

"Well—they don't speak for me, then."

It's the feeling of his eyes on you that makes you gaze in his direction. "I like the white hairs, too," for some reason, your voice dropped to a whisper, "and your beard. It's even. Frames your face well."

Joel looked frozen under a spell.

He stared at you with intent and focus you'd never seen before.

Since you started, you might as well finish. "The crinkles by your eyes are smile-made. I like that."

It works—it brings them out. Joel starts smiling, even if his eyes look a little lost. "Smile-made?" he echos.

"Yeah. They're there 'cause of your smile. Some people have lines 'cause they frown a lot, or grimace, or are always judging. I don't like those lines."

"I have worry lines."

"We all have worry lines, Jo. It's the end of the world."

He laughs. "Touché."

"That's my favorite part, though." He stops laughing at those words, and you miss it instantly. "Your smile."

His gaze softens. "You like my smile?"

"You almost never smile," you say, hating that sad truth, "and it's a beautiful smile," you think if anything else comes out, it might be too much. Too close to the truth, so, "in conclusion: handsome. So—I do think you're a little crazy. It might not be often, but we still see mirrors every now and then."

His silence as an answer made the jittery nerves climb up your legs, soothing like an ointment every bruise it found in its way.

Joel staring at you was the reason why you lacked sleep, sometimes.

Too many thoughts about what he was thinking. Too many scenarios about what it would be like to have the courage to make the first move.

It's he who does it.

When it comes, you're too lost in a trance to properly register his steps coming back to you.

He sits on the chair next to you again. Grabs your chair with one hand, and pulls it close to his until they're touching.

He's so close you could count the gray hairs you like so much on his beard.

When he leans in closer, you're breathing his air, and it makes goosebumps rise all over your skin. On your arms, your neck, your back.

Joel moves one hand to your neck at the same pace one moves when hunting wild animals.

As if every movement could result in being seen, and the prey running away.

When he's only a couple of inches away from your face, you feel the heat of his palm spread across your neck; his thumb caressing your cheek. He asks, "Talk to me. Is this—Am I reading it wrong?"

If you have a voice, it's gone. You shake your head and do the only thing you needed all this long—you lean, too.

Sometimes, things are so important that every second of it counts.

Joel's lips on yours are one of those things.

You're shaking, at first.

Although inexperience is part of the reason why you're so terrified of doing something, this part you know.

It's the only one you have confidence in, so you let all the worries on your shoulders go, and you kiss him back.

Joel wants you to.

The notion that he might've been as lost in his head as you were in yours makes you want to cry. You whimper against his mouth instead, pressing so much harder when the reality of what is happening catches up to you.

Joel pulls back for just a second, "It's okay, I got you," he seals the words by pressing his lips on yours again.

All of your reservations fly out of the window with those last three words.

You throw your arms around his neck, almost throwing yourself too in the process. Joel laughs right there, with his lips still on yours, and catches your weight.

With your fingers threaded through his hair and holding on for dear life, you let him do it—let him guide you.

Kissing Joel makes your head drown in every other moment you two shared and you could feel your heart beating in your throat.

He takes it slow with you, despite feeling the shivers all over your body.

Joel nips on your bottom lip until you open up for him.

He kisses by sucking, then pecking your lips, and when he finally pushes his tongue in your mouth, you forget where you two are for a moment.

The moan is involuntary, and even with eyes closed you feel them rolling to the back of your head.

Joel's hand on your nape starts massaging your neck and he says, "Shhh, gorgeous, 's okay," he licks into your mouth again.

Rewiring your brain is so easy for him. Gorgeous.

Just like when you two discovered that touching one another was an option a week ago, learning that this is on the table is almost comical. You feel like a starved person being delivered a feast, and stopping is far from an option.

When you pull back for air because there's none left in your body, the string of saliva connecting your mouth to Joel's makes you tremble again.

He needs to know. Tell him. If he knows he's the only man — or person — who's ever awakened desire in you, maybe he'll understand why you're like a leaf in his hands.

Joel's hand comes up to your cheek. It's huge, covering almost half of your face, and when he whispers, "Open your eyes," you realize that you'd closed them again.

His eyes are the warmest part of him. "Hi," you mumble. "Please tell me you'll do this again."

Joel smiles. "If you wait a few more hours, El will be asleep," he swallows visibly and you think what on Earth could he be nervous to, "I can help you... cleaning your wounds. You could help me."

Right. Bathing together, even if 'bathing' is a strong word for it.

Inexperienced. No knowledge whatsoever other than books you read in the abandoned library. What will you do with him? What will—

"We don't have to, obviously," he interrupts your thoughts. "And yeah. I wanna do this more. Of course I do," Joel kisses you again, and you hold his head in place for a few more moments, stealing more kisses to numb your mind. "God, I wanted this since I met you."

"Joel."

"It's true."

"I'm happy to know we're both idiots," and even happier that was behind. "And—I mean. A helping hand is always good... right?"

The look he gives you does it again—a shiver, and it's not from the cold.

The mere idea of his hands on you is enough to make you sweat.

Maybe that's the perfect timing and opportunity to lay it on him that he's signing up for something he might not want.

"You want my help?" he asks. He nuzzles his face on yours, rubbing his beard on your cheek, down to your neck.

You bite your lip to stifle a moan. "Yeah."

"I'll do my best."

It'll be more than enough. That is—if you can survive the next few hours. If his kisses alone are enough to almost bring you to a fever again, his hands might kill you.

You would die happy.

PART THREE →

🏷️ @sakuralikestars — @mostardentily — @thegreat-annamaria — @leiticia — @polyglot-noodle — @casssiopeia — @bistarlight

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your-writer-beta-side-piece · 1 year

Text

Say You Love Me (Joel Miller x f! reader)

1K Celebration | Masterlist

Part 2 - Coming Soon

Pairing: Joel Miller x f! Reader (pre and post outbreak)

Rating: M (18+, explicit smut)

Word Count: 6.2K

Summary: Red wine. Rage. Regret. Reunions. When pride separates you from the man that got away in 2003, you thought you’d never see him again. But when going to tie loose ends for Bill and Frank, you see him and a young companion.

Content: TLOU spoilers, slight changes to the story, age gap (~10-15 years), multiple sex scenes, dirty talk, unprotected p in v sex, fingering, cowgirl, creampie, oral (f), rough sex, alcohol consumption, grief, violence, mentions of death, the musical stylings of Fleetwood Mac

A/N: Happy TLOU day! This initially started out as a creation for my 1K celebration to "Maroon" by Taylor Swift, but as you can see it completely manifested into its own short story. Thanks to everyone for being patient for my writing. I hope y'all enjoy!

Every time you have a dream about everything before, you try to document it down in your ratty journal with your pen running on empty. Everything seems to run on empty.

You dream of your former life less and less as the years go by. It’s a hazy memory and you can’t remember how we were able to live on such luxuries and be comfortable and be happy.

You dream of the man with his large hands and warm smile on your living room floor, warm with wine.

Red lips. Red cheeks. Red wine.

The bitter taste of cheap red blends on his tongue.

Sticky Austin nights where you’d start outside in the thick humidity but end it in ice cold a/c. It never mattered anyway, Joel always ran hot like a furnace so you’d have to settle yourself in between thin sheets.

You met through Megan who was dating his younger brother Tommy, a Gulf War vet that was more serious about holding his liquor than he ever was fighting in the war. One night when he’d had too much to drink, Joel, the responsible one, picked him up. A sleeping baby girl in the backseat.

He barged through your front door. “Tommy, what the hell are you doin’ bothering these–”

He stopped as soon as he looked at you. From that moment it was like the two of you had this instant communication. He didn’t have to say anything, all you needed to do was look into his eyes.

“HI there.” He smile at you, that warm smile with that dimple on the side of his cheek. “I–uh–hope you’re not the girl my little brother’s been botherin’ “

“That would be my roommate.” You smile back at him. His smile grows even wider and you can’t remember the last time you had such electric eye contact with someone.

Tommy bursts through the door, coming out of the bathroom with Megan hoisting his large frame.

“Please get him in bed and away from vodka.” She hoists Tommy onto Joel.

“Tell me a bedtime story.” He slurs. Joel looks at you apologetically as he turns to bring him to the car. You and Megan exchanged a silent look as she could pick up on what was going on and she nudged you to go after him.

“Hey wait!” You call out, you try not to focus on his broad back muscles. “I think it’s clear Tommy needs some chaperoning whenever he comes over here.”

He furrows his brow in confusion at first. “Y’know, his big brother to come over and make sure he’s doing right?” ‘You smile.

“Just say when and I’ll tag along.” Joel winks at you.

He was always a man of his word.

The next weekend, Megan invited Tommy over and suggested he bring Joel along as well. Tommy came barreling in like a freight train and Joel laid back to greet you at the door. He held up a six pack of beer.

“I didn’t wanna come over empty handed. It’s all we had in the fridge.” Joel said.

“Yeah, Joel wanted to come right over after workin’ tonight. Even let Sarah stay at a friends house, ain’t that sweet?”

“Alright, Tommy. I still clearly gotta babysit you.” Joel rolls his eyes.

“We’ll, thank you for the beer, Joel but we’re more wine drinkers here. Do you like red blend?”

“I’ll drink whatever you give me.”

————————

A few hours later, Megan and Tommy have gone off on their own adventure. You and Joel split the bottle of wine between the two of you and despite him stating he could handle his liquor, his large body was sprawled out across your living room floor with his empty glass tipped over.

“Miller, I thought you said you could handle your liquor.” You grin at him from the couch.

“I usually can. I don’t know what was in your roommate’s cheapass screwtop–”

“Hey–don’t blame the alcohol for why you’re currently on our living room floor right now. And while she can’t defend herself.”

“You saying I’m a sloppy drunk?” He leans closer towards you and you observe the patches in his beard.

“I’m saying I don’t wanna hold your hair back above the toilet.” You grin at him. He looks at you, hard. You feel your heart rate rising and the moment is almost too much to handle. You need to ground yourself with something, anything. You turn to your vinyls.

“You like records?” You ask him, moving towards the shelf.

“Didn’t know people your age still listened to them.” He called out. You scoffed.

“I’m not that much younger than you. Besides, this is timeless. CDs might come and go like 8 track players, but these? These are gonna last through everything.” You hold up a record and he nods in approval, Fleetwood Mac’s self titled album. You flip to side two and the sounds of “Say You Love Me” flood the living room.

You join him on the living room rug and close your eyes, listening to Christine McVie’s voice.

Have mercy, baby, on a poor girl like me

You know I'm falling, falling, falling at your feet

I'm tingling right from my head to my toes

So help me, help me, help me make the feeling go

“God, her voice is just so ageless. I know everyone always looks at Rumours as their best but this one is just cla–” Your breath hitches when you feel his hand brush your cheek. You feel the warmth of his face coming closer and closer as you finally open your eyes to see Joel ready to kiss you.

But he forgot his wine glass in his hand as it spilled onto you with the remainder of his alcohol.

“Shit, shit.” Joel stumbles up and looks around. “I am so sorry, I can clean that up.”

You get up to him walking around your kitchen, looking for paper towels. When he turns around, you put your hand at his chest and look up at his beautiful brown eyes.

“Why don’t you help me find a new shirt?” You ask him in a low voice. His jaw is slacked as he slowly nods.

“Yes ma’am.” He follows behind you, taking your hand as you lead him into your bedroom.

One thing about Joel Miller? He takes his time. He takes his time giving you soft, syrupy kisses and drawing the anticipation by pulling at your lip.

He builds you up by meticulously touching every part of your body while peeling off your clothes, grabbing at the swell of your ass, the dips of your hips and pulling at the back of your neck. He wants to make you feel amazing.

Once you’re naked, he lays you on top of your bed and peers up at you as he pulls your knees apart.

He drags the tip of his tongue over your clit, savoring your taste as he moans in relief. You tremble against him, dragging your hand through his dark curls as he begins to put his full mouth into you, his tongue entering you as his nose brushes your clit. You can’t help but squirm on top of him, rocking onto him as he moans below you.

“You taste so fucking good.” Joel gets up for air briefly and dives back in. Kissing at your inner thighs, he takes one of his thick fingers and pushes one into you, your body instantly tightening around it.

“So wet for me too.” Joel moans. He moves in earnest, putting his mouth back onto your clit and the pleasure is all you can concentrate on. He adds another finger, getting up to watch you squirm at his fingers as your wetness fills the room from his methodical thrusts.

You feel yourself tense, your muscles tightening around him as your pleasure intensifies and your breaths go shallow. When he curves his fingers and moves his mouth back to your clit, you short circuit completely.

You writhe on top of him as you cum, moaning louder than you’d expected and hoping Tommy and Megan don’t hear anything. Your shallow breaths fill the room and your eyes are shut. Pleasure still pulsates through your body as Joel is now on top of you, kissing at your throat as you feel his heavy, still clothed cock on top of you.

When you release it, it springs from his boxers, thick and dripping at the top with precum. You rub the tip of his head as he lets out a hiss of air at your throat. You bring the liquid to your mouth and savor the taste.

“I hope this ain’t too forward,” His hands cup and knead at your breasts. “But I’m desperate to feel you.”

“Please” You beg. “I have condoms but I’m also on the pill. Whatever you need, just please don’t stop.”

Joel lines himself up against you, rubbing his thick cock against your soaked walls. His eyes don’t leave yours as he gently enters you. It’s soft at first, him trying to fit in every single inch while also not cumming immediately while he was inside of you. You gripped him, wet and tight.

During the pause when he’s finally deep inside of you, you both are riddled with heavy breathing. Your kisses are slow but hungry. You start to move below him and that’s what drives him wild.

He begins to pump faster inside of you, rubbing himself against your swollen clit. You don’t think you’ve ever had something so intimate before. You’d had sex, but this just felt like something out of another dimension. Joel was entirely focused on your pleasure, hungrily pawing at your body as he rocked on top of you.

When circled his fingers on your clit, you knew you were going to cum a second time. You grabbed at the bedsheets, another climax of pleasure making you arch.

After you came twice, Joel was needier. He raised your leg so he could get into a deeper position and you had felt so incredibly full. He fucks you at a rapid speed and feeling you convulse around him for another orgasm wasn’t helping and the room filled with the noise of his balls slapping onto your skin.

You loved that his broad body surrounded you, that all you could feel was him and all you could hear were his grunts into your ear. His hips began to stutter as he filled himself into you, emptying himself as much as he could into your tight walls.

You don’t realize how badly you were gripping him until you rub his back, his head on your chest and you feel the claw marks. His breathing is labored, still feeling the impact of your sex as you bury your fingers into his curls.

“This should go without being said,” Joel looked up at you. “But I would really like to take you out sometime.”

You weren’t going to say no to that.

—---------------------------------

You wake up, the motion of the car rattling you.

“Morning, sunshine.” Megan smiles behind the steering wheel. Before everything, Megan was terrified of driving and now you’d catch her dead before she’d stop and pick someone up, choosing to run them over instead because they were likely a hunter.

And wouldn’t you rather kill than be killed?

It all happened so fast but so painfully, hauntingly slow at the same time. In one night, civilization as you knew it had ceased to exist. Megan came home, shaking, covered in blood telling you you had to leave tonight.

You drove until you ran out of gas. You walked until you were able to rob some idiots that tried to give you a ride and take advantage of you. And that’s how you ended up at the Philadelphia quarantine zone. Somewhere far away from Texas and the sticky heat and long carefree nights.

There were a lot of men like that in this world, who thought they could take things from vulnerable women. Little did they realize, the vulnerable women didn’t make it. Not all of them were like that, though. Bill and Frank weren’t.

You’d met Frank over the radio, talking over some music his partner BIll was playing as some sort of signal. Frank was incredibly kind, warm and worldly in a world with almost nothing left. He’d offered to trade things between you and Megan’s QZ and the Lincoln town he lived in with Bill.

And Bill? He was…Bill. He wasn’t exactly kind and open to strangers, but he knew the both of you and trusted you after all of these years. Whoever Frank loved, he loved. So when you’d heard the 80’s distress signal coming from the radio, you’d decided to risk the trip and make sure everything was okay.

When you had gotten to the gate, usually coded, it was wide open and the two of you exchanged looks in surprise. Without having to say a word, you grabbed your handgun out of the glove compartment. Megan pulled up to Bill and Frank’s, seeing their door open.

The two of you had tried to get out of the car as quietly as possible. Crouching behind the car as you heard the crunch of footsteps.

“It could be Bill and Frank.” Megan whispered.

“When is it like Bill to ever keep the gate open?” You asked her. You heard the crunches coming closer.

The two of you signal to step out at the same time, adrenaline pumping through your veins. After all of this time, it never gets easier doing this.

Before you could pull the trigger, you hear a HYAH and see a small figure jump out towards you.

Jesus, it’s a child. Before she could try to stab either of you, Megan pins her down to the ground, knocking the knife out of the way and the kid squirms under her.

You see another figure jump into frame to defend the kid. A man with grey hair, a broad frame and a handgun. The two of you are in a standoff but something feels off. You know you’ve been to Lincoln so many times before but something about this feels entirely too familiar.

“Do not hurt the kid.” The man drawls, looking down at her and then back at you. “She didn’t—“

And then his eyes meet yours. Still as piercing as you remember. And you realize that you’re standing in front of Joel Miller for the first time in twenty years.

“…Joel?” Megan says something first.

“Hi Megan.” He looks at her briefly to acknowledge her, but he looks back at you. The gun still in his hand, gripped tightly.

“We’re not looking for any trouble.” Joel says. “We’re here to check on our friends.”

“Bill and Frank.” You finally say to him. “Our friends.” The look of confusion on his face is apparent.

“You two knew Bill and Frank?” He asks.

“How about ‘it’s good to see you two alive after all this time’, Joel?” You ask him, exasperated. You were tired of holding this gun, your hands were getting clammy and you had no intentions of shooting him. Even after all this time, you knew he wouldn’t shoot both of you either.

Megan lets the girl up and she runs to Joel. She puts her gun down and you motion for him to follow suit. He looks at you for a long hard moment, his eyes scanning your body as you feel yourself redden with embarrassment, feeling fully exposed in front of him and looking like apocalyptic shit. He sets his gun down as you follow suit.

“I think y’all should come inside, then.” Joel said. “Some things you need to see.”

You follow Joel and the young girl-you find out her name is Ellie- into Bill and Frank’s house. You go to the same place that Bill and Frank would keep supplies, notes or any clothing that Frank had to spare - the second cabinet to the right. That’s where you see their note.

Frank’s condition had worsened over the past few years. A degenerative disease you weren’t sure exactly what it was, but when he asked for a wheelchair from the Philadelphia QZ you were both more than happy to bring it to them. You knew it was only a matter of time before he went. When Bill decided to go with him, you weren’t surprised. Despite his exterior, everything Bill did was for Frank, the man he loved.

You couldn’t remember the last time you had felt that kind of devotion to someone until today.

The four of you sit at the table. An awkward silence between the four of you, the only sound being Ellie rocking her chair. One of the legs must’ve been broken and Bill hadn’t gotten to it ye–

Oh. Right.

“I didn’t know Bill and Frank knew anyone else besides us.” Megan said.

“Likewise. I guess that makes sense.” Joel said, his eyes still on you.

You agreed. “Frank, I’m sure, would’ve loved the extra company. More people to host garden parties and socialize for but if Bill had anything to do with it–”

“He would’ve threatened to kill us.” You say in unison.

“Trust me, he made sure to make us aware if we tried anything he had his gun right on the table the first time we met.” You said.

“His reputation precedes himself.” Joel said.

The two of you are silent for a moment. Megan and Ellie looking between the both of you.

“Am I missing something?” Ellie asked, pointing at the two of you back and forth.

“And I think that’s my queue to look around for some food. Maybe we can have some dinner, figure out what the fuck we’re doing and then call it a night before we go our separate ways, huh?” Megan quickly said.

You sit at the table with Joel and Ellie, completely silent as Joel is now looking away from you and Ellie keeps looking at the both of you.

“You can cut the tension with a knife, huh?” Ellie whistles.

“Ellie, go take a shower. They’ve got hot water.” Joel says. She quickly gets up and runs down the hall.

“You don’t have to tell me twice. But after I take one, you’re going in because man. And if we’re gonna be around company…”

“Ellie.” He raises his voice into a stern inflection you haven’t heard since…

Where the hell is Sarah?

—-------------------------------------------------

Later that night, you’ve hunkered down with Megan, Joel and Ellie. The four of you have rabbit along with some vegetables and rice from Frank’s garden. The tension has subsided as you’ve gotten into the wine cabinet. That’s when the memories flow back. The three of you share stories from Texas, your old lives that seem so long ago. Reminiscing on how things used to be as Ellie interjects with a question about the old world every now and then while reading a comic she snagged from Bill’s basement.

Megan eventually stretches her arms up. “Well, I’ve been drivin’ all day and I’m exhausted. I’m about to hit the hay.”

“Well I am gonna finish reading this in peace and quiet so I can read about this alien’s guts spilling out without interruptions. Goodnight! You kids have fun!” Ellie grins.

Megan gives you a look etched in worry before she heads to the stairs. You roll your eyes at her because you can take care of your goddamn self. You have been for ages.

You hear the footsteps go upstairs as you and Joel sit across from each other at the table. It’s like a lockbox with feelings you hadn’t had in years starts rattling in your chest, a monster of them waiting to come out and erupt.

You look over at him, his hair slicked back from his shower, grays prominent in his hair and his beard. The swell of his lips was still prominent and had the ability to drive you crazy.

“Bill and Frank.” You say to him, hoping to silence the voices in your own head.

“Bill and Frank.” He repeats, his hands fidgeting on the table.

“So, uh, I guess while we’re here–I’m gonna raid the liquor cabinet.” You head to the liquor cabinet to see if there’s anything strong enough to hold the awkward air between the two of you. You see a dusty bottle in the back of the cabinet, a red blend that looked entirely too familiar to pass up.

You bring it to the table, setting it down in front of Joel. He looks up at you and shakes his head in disbelief, a small smile etched across his face.

“After all this time, you still drink the same shitty red blend.” Joel says.

“Can you handle your liquor any better, Miller?” You slide it towards him, he catches the bottle with one large hand.

“I guess we’ll have to see.” He grumbles, slicing the wine bottle open with his knife.

It didn’t take long for you to feel the heaviness of the wine, sloshing in your stomach as you and Joel took turns taking long drinks from the bottle.

He tells you of Tess, his smuggling partner that had recently gotten infected while smuggling Ellie out of the city. While you admired her bravery and her sacrifice, you can’t help but feel a sting of jealousy. You’d had your partners every now and then, but none of them ever stuck around long enough. None of them ever mattered like he did.

“She was like family.” He stated.

You knew you couldn’t just say sorry. “I’m sorry for your loss” almost seems insulting these days with teh weight of how much it happens.

“Did–uh–you have any smuggling partners?” Joel asks, sipping on the bottle and looking away as if to play nonchalant. Twenty years and you can still tell when it’s all bullshit.

“I did. None of them were exactly like family but they were enough to help Megan and I get by. I never trusted them enough to introduce them to Bill and Frank.” You said.

“Oh.” Was all he could say.

“I–I couldn’t. I just couldn’t let myself get too far with anyone after–” You can’t even bare to say it. But he looks at you as if you have, like you’ve just cut part of his soul open.

“What the fuck happened?” You muttered, swigging from the bottle.

“You want the version they’re teaching kids in FEDRA school or the version we remember?” Joel asked.

“Joel…” You give him a long look. He looks at you, briefly, breaking eye contact to look anywhere else and scowl. He chooses to grab the bottle from you, taking a large gulp.

“It doesn’t matter now, does it?” He says.

“Maybe it doesn’t.” You say. “But I still wanna know. I just…we could’ve had this life.”

His brow arches.

“You and me. Tommy and Megan. Bill and Frank. We could’ve been a team. It would’ve been something.”

“Tommy decided to fuck off and join the Fireflies. Pretend like he was makin’ a difference. And then when that fell through last I heard he was in Wyoming. Megan was better off.” He stated.

“You were…” He silently mutters.

“We don’t have to talk about any of it. I’ve done some shit I regret but I did it to survive. Because that’s what we have to do in this new world. I get it. But those first few years…I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

He takes a large drink of wine. “Or Tommy.”

“Or Sarah.”

“Well, there’s no damn use in thinkin’, is there?” Joel snaps back. You know you’ve clearly hit a nerve talking about Sarah. With whatever happened to her. Was she with the Fireflies? Was she with her Uncle Tommy? You’d hate to think it could be any worse. That brilliant, beautiful girl in any sort of trouble or not existing in this world.

By the pain in Joel’s eyes, the exterior he’d tried to mask by furrowed brows and a hardened expression, you knew. Suddenly the air felt thick.

“I’m sorry…I’m gonna step outside.” You rush to the porch as you feel the tears flood through your eyes. Sarah’s gone. You didn’t know that after all of the pain, after all of the violence, after everything this world has taken from you, that you could still feel this searing pain of loss.

You suddenly hated yourself for not being there. For not calling. For running away from things when they had gotten too serious, as if some bullshit relationship problems would matter in a week’s time in that moment. You had no idea what was about to happen.

If you’d known you would’ve lost everything and everyone in your life you had loved, you would’ve tried to hold on to the man you loved and his family for as long as you could.

But then again…maybe it was better this way that you weren’t there. You didn’t hold him back, you didn’t hold him back either. This world isn’t for the weak. Love makes you fucking weak. Joel makes you so fucking weak, 20 years later. It’s infuriating, intoxicating and confusing.

You hear the door open and footsteps come through. You wipe your tears away as you see Joel sit next to you on the bench.

“I’m sorry.” He says, solemnly. “You didn’t know. It was that night of the…”

“I know it’s so god damn insignificant now…but I’m so sorry I didn’t call.” You choke. Joel remains silent, his lips wavering.

“You didn’t know.” He repeats himself.

“So what happens now?” You ask him.

“We do what we came here to do. Get our supplies, celebrate Bill and Frank and we drink.”

“We drink.” You nod.

And drink you did.

You drank and remembered the good times, the times when he’d come over every Friday night that Sarah had a sleepover and you’d talk and touch each other until the sun came up. You drank and remember how even though Megan and Tommy had fizzled out, he had still come over to be with you. You drank and remembered the bad times, when you couldn’t handle the intimacy, you both couldn’t decide what this was.

You can’t bear the way he looks at you. You need an escape. You head to Frank’s record collection.

You dust off the record collection and see the familiar cover of Fleetwood Mac’s self titled album. You look up at Joel and his cheeks look like they sting with glee. He lets out a small giggle.

“What was it I used to tell you?” You try to remember.

“Records are timeless.” Joel says as you flip the vinyl to side B. “You were always right.”

The room floods with the faint sounds of “Say You Love Me”. It had been years since you’d heard this song but you still remembered every word. Joel extended his hand out to you and you took it, fingers stroking his palm.

You pressed yourself lightly against him, turning and looping over the hardwood floor as the music continued. Somehow, someway, you could still smell his subtle sandalwood scent.

'Cause when the lovin' starts and the lights go down

And there's not another living soul around

You woo me until the sun comes up

And you say that you love me

The two of you giggled like children as you looped around Bill and Frank’s living room. The light of the moon shone on Joel’s face and the hardened exterior of the older man was gone for a moment, and you were taken back to 2003 where that gorgeous carpenter was leaning against your doorway for the first time.

Your hand crept up his neck, feeling his peppered curls as he shivered. In response, he pressed his body closer to yours until you were cheek to cheek.

He turns to face you. His eyebrows scrunched in worry and confusion of the feelings that were rising. He never thought he would see you again, and these damn emotions kept flooding through his body.

“I showed up to your house that morning.” He whispered. “Right after we dropped Sarah off at school. My birthday.”

“So do you still think it doesn’t matter?” You asked him.

“It wouldn’t have changed anything.”

“But it would’ve given us one more good day. Before it all went to shit. And if that’s all we had, then I’m okay with that. Better than the alternative.”

You pressed your lips onto his, slow and calculated at first. You gave him one small peck to test his willingness to kiss you. You looked back at Joel and his eyes were shut tightly.

“I’m sorry–I shouldn’t have–” You try to break away but he tightens his grip around you.

“I’m just trying to savor this moment.” Joel whispers. You meet his lips again, hungrier, needier. Both of your hands exploring each other as if to make sure this was real and you weren’t dreaming it.

“Joel.” You break away as he strokes your cheek. “Let’s go to bed.”

“Yes ma’am.” He says.

It’s no shock that after all this time, you and Joel still fit together like a glove. Your body melts into his with a comfort that you haven’t felt in years. You didn’t know your body could ever feel that good again.

You didn’t think your hair, greasy and damaged when you looked at it in the mirror, could be stroked like that again. As if Joel had gotten a spool of gold and he didn’t want to ruin it, Joel petted you with delicacy as he undressed you.

Your stomach, somehow softened throughout the years with age even though you hadn’t had proper nourishment in years, being planted with soft kisses as Joel moved south, desperate to taste your pussy again.

You climb onto his lap and grip him with one hand, still as thick and as long as ever. You take a moment to look at him through the moonlight, after all these years he’s still incredibly handsome but this world took the sparkle in his eye away.

“Please, sweetheart.” Joel begs. “Let me feel you again. I’m desperate.”

That word is what makes you sink down onto him, inch by inch until he’s all the way inside. It was probably a bad idea to attempt to do this without any prep work but you didn’t care, you needed him and it filled a part of you that hadn’t been taken care of in years.

“Fuck. Fuck.” Joel rasps. “You’re still so goddamn tight.” You can feel your inner muscles clenching at his thickness and the desperate groan that he releases makes you weak.

You start to move, slowly, as his fingers dig into your hips. The pressure between the two of you is unbearable, you feel him and his full length but you’re desperate for more release. Joel’s ragged breaths concern you, though.

“Are you gonna be okay if I go faster?” You ask him.

“I ain’t that old, sweetheart.” Joel rasps under you, that damn smile back in action.

And with that, you lifted yourself up and slammed yourself into him, grinding your clit against his cock at a fast and desperate pace.

He moves forward, putting a mouthful of your breast into his mouth as his other hand rests on your lower back. You can feel the intense pleasure so blindly that you don’t know how long it’ll be until it boils over. When you contract around him and cum, Joel lets out an animalistic groan.

“Fuck, that’s it.” He moans. “Milk my cock, baby.”

You ride out your orgasm and just when you think you have time to recover, Joel begins to thrust upward deep and hard. His hips snapping up and bouncing you on top of him. He tangles his fingers into your hair, pulling you down to thrust his tongue into your mouth.

You suck his tongue and desperately cling to him, unsure how much longer you’ll be able to go without cumming again.

“I can feel it, sweetheart.” Joel groans. “Cum around my cock one more time, just give me one more. Please.”

He breaks free from your tight embrace to rub your swollen clit as you grind on top of him again, trying to remain as silent as possible so you don’t wake anyone else in the house.

You convulse and cum around him again, dizzy with pleasure as he takes one leg for leverage and begins to fuck into you harder than before. At this point, you can’t control the sounds coming out of you as he hits a spot inside of you that feels so good. His hips begin to stutter and Joel fills himself into you. He cums so hard that you feel it leaking out of you while he’s still inside.

The two of you stayed just like that for a few moments, clung to each other as you heard his heartbeat hammering inside of his chest. You peppered soft kisses onto his body as you got from on top of him. The contrast of being full and then leaving him made you wince.

Joel got up from the bed and you hesitated for a moment. Did he regret this decision? Was he going to sleep in his own bed? When he came back, he had a warm washcloth and he used it to wipe between your legs. Hot water will never be taken for granted in this world.

The two of you then snuggled up together, the situation being better left unsaid. You knew that you both had to start preparing for the morning, so instead of talking, you just shut your eyes and tried to enjoy his strong arms around you.

—-----------------

You heard a faint knock at the door and almost forgot where you were for a moment. When you felt Joel’s arms around you, his lips pressing against your cheek, you woke up with the biggest smile you’d had in a very long time.

“Good morning, you two.” Ellie shouts throughout the door. “Knock knock. Megan’s making breakfast, wake your asses up, lovebirds!”

“Don’t–don’t come in here Ellie.” Joel tries to exclaim, sleep in his voice.

“I’m fucking good, man. I’m gonna help Megan with breakfast.” You hear her footsteps as she leaves the hallway and you turn to him.

He was still there. And suddenly you were reminded of each and every time he’d stayed over, Megan making everyone breakfast as you’d talk and laugh through the previous night.

This morning was no different. It felt oddly comfortable, the four of you enjoying each other’s company even though you knew it had to end. You’d spent the rest of the morning gathering supplies but then it was time to grab your backpack out of the bedroom.

Joel was sitting on the edge of the bed. It reminded you of how things were the previous day, where he couldn’t look you in the eye. He was riddled with discomfort. In this world, you’re so used to not even having to say goodbye. That’s honestly not as painful as having to do it.

You walk up to him, giving him a long hug.

“Joel, if it’s true what you told me – if she’s immune – this is huge. It might give the world another chance. It might give us another chance.” You say to him.

“You still have so much hope for the world. That's why I will always love you.” Joel whispers. You feel your heart crack. You feel the toolbox in your chest start to rattle.

You know you shouldn’t say it. You know you’d be an idiot to say something so vulnerable and stupid in this world. But if you don’t say it, what else do you have?

“I love you too, Joel. Take care of yourself, okay? Take care of Ellie. If you ever find yourself at the Philadelphia QZ you know where to find me.” You say to him.

He presses his lips against you softly. As if to savor every moment, every feeling. Every curve and swell of your lip. He grabs at the back of your neck and you mimic him, grabbing the back of his. As if pushing further into the kiss could bring you back to those hot Austin nights.

Because you knew this was the last time you’d get a good taste of home.

You walk him out towards the car, Ellie already next to the passenger seat bouncing up and down because she had never ridden in a car before. You and Megan send them both off, his reflection in the rearview mirror never leaving your sight until the truck becomes a small blur.

“You gonna be okay?” Megan asks you, with that same look of worry she had given you the night before.

You’re not sure if you will be, but you have to forge ahead as you always do. “Yeah. I’ll be fine.” You state. And the two of you get ready to go, heading into the car back to the QZ.

“Talk about a blast from the fuckin’ past.” Megan says, starting the car. “It’s funny…I had actually heard about Nick – y'know the one that was in the Fireflies– talking about somewhere in Jackson. Small fuckin’ world.”

You lean your head up against the car window. Your thoughts immediately go back to last night.

Small fuckin’ world indeed.

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your-writer-beta-side-piece · 1 year

Text

worthy of trust

pairing: sebastian sallow x fem!reader

warnings: sebastian being a jerk & calling you ignorant, angst, feeling like you lost a friend but he makes it up to you with a lil kiss

note: i've been obsessed with hogwarts legacy and the gameplay itself is just phenomenal. 39 hours into the game lol and still so much to do, so enjoy this sebastian oneshot. based on his questline, in the shadow of the mine i think?

important note: i do NOT support hate towards the transgender or LGBTQ+ community. JKR has made her stance very clear and i could not disagree and be disgusted with her more. this fic and future ones merely pertain to the character(s) in hogwarts legacy and to my knowledge, JKR had no part in the game. if you are still mad i play the game/write fics for hogwarts legacy, you can scroll past this. thank you!

you had no qualms about trusting lodgok since sirona ryan had known him for years, along with miriam. while the both of you had been albeit hesitant at first towards one another, he had proven his loyalty to stopping ranrok and was actively trying to be one step ahead of him - which is exactly what you, sebastian, and the others wanted.

however, when the opportunity arose to tell sebastian about lodgok, it all came flooding back to you - anne.

you and sebastian had just finished clearing out a cavern of arachnids, which quite honestly, was pretty exciting. you had even reminded him that well, spiders aren't insects.

"don't you start," he had responded, a small smirk on his face.

after finding the last piece to the tryptich and hoping to solve the mystery concerning isidora morganach, returning to the undercroft was the last step. you both were eager to see if the portrait piece would fit, and once it had been placed, you were able to breathe.

"please tell me you recognize the location in this bit of canvas," you said, turning around to face your slytherin partner in crime.

he sighed, "the good news is, i do, in fact."

your shoulders dropped, "and the bad news?"

sebastian turned to look at you, "we're in for more trouble."

you groaned, leaning your head back as Sebastian's eyes seemed to darken; gluing your attention back to your slytherin friend, he continued, "i know that coast. Ranrok has taken over a huge mine and the surrounding area. Marunweem has suffered for it. It's as bad as Feldcroft's become."

with a sigh, your eyebrows knitted together and you looked at the triptych once more. sebastian glanced towards you, "should we head there now?

you shook your head, "no, we should wait."

sebastian immediately questioned you, "why?

you gave a grimanced look, "all this time, we've been a step behind ranrok. I may know someone who could help us get head."

sebastian raised an eyebrow, "who is that?"

before you could even think about formulating your answer a different way, the words slipped out, "a friendly goblin named lodgok. he wants no part in ranrok's fight."

sebastian immediately became disgusted, angry, even. "a friendly goblin?" he started, "you know goblins cursed my sister to shut her up! said she should 'be seen and not heard.'"

you took a step towards sebastian as he stepped back. taking a breath, you nodded, " i do, but not all goblins-"

he glared towards you, "not all goblins what? have you forgotten feldcroft? have you forgotten the mine we just went through?"

you sympathized with him, no doubt. you knew how close the twins were, how much Sebastian loved anne and cared for her - but this fight against ranrok was against all wizardkind, not just anne. and you knew she would understand.

shaking your head, you tried to reason with Sebastian, "no, sebastian, i haven't. you're not listening to me."

sebastian scoffed, "why would i listen to someone so ignorant?"

ouch.

you knew sebastian could be mean, cruel, but throughout these months of knowing him, he has only been so kind, sweet and soft with you. there was never any malice towards you, no anger or disgust. towards the goblins and ranrok in conversations with you, but it was never directed. it was understandable that what happened to anne was hurting Sebastian as well, but this anger was now at you, and he was changing.

you already had reservations working with lodgok before sirona ryan said you could trust him, but there was something he wasn't telling you. but it wasn't a secret that jeopardized your working relationship with him, no. if it had been, you would have turned your back and not worked with him another day.

it wasn't ignorant at all, you knew that. a bit sketchy at first, sure, but not ignorant. lodgok had proven himself trustworthy and has helped you in being one step ahead.

you stepped back in surprise, "that was cruel. perhaps your uncle was right about you - you don't know when to stop."

sebastian glowered over you, stepping forward as his words were laced with venom, "oh, i do know when to stop. unbelievable."

taking a deep breath, you turned and walked out of the undercroft, ready to scream. you understood where Sebastian was coming from but the way he talked to you was so...angering. maybe you should have lied about who it was, about what lodgok was.

but calling you ignorant? okay, yes, this was your first year learning about magic and catching up to the rest of your peers, but you earned respect and knew - for the most part - what you were doing. you would never intentionally put Sebastian, anne, ominis, whoever in danger if you were not confident.

with a sniffle, you made your way through the dark arts tower to your common room, ready to just cry about how upset and angry Sebastian was. but before you could, ominis's voice stopped you, "coming from the undercroft, are we?"

you turned around, eyes glassy with unshed tears - albeit glad that ominis couldn't see them. you gave a small smile, "oh, yes. we were just discussing a painting we found."

ominis hummed, not entirely satisfied with your answer, "your voice is shaky. what happened?"

you let out a breath, "i - we can't talk about it here, ominis. too open."

he sighed, and with his free hand, he grabbed your arm, pulling you towards an owl statue inside a small window, before it turned around and you found yourself...well, inside a wall at hogwarts.

before you had time to question ominis of where you were, he asked once more, "what happened?"

you explained everything, just leaving out the parts where Sebastian was intent on not stopping to find a cure for anne, but moreso focused on the triptych. when you revealed who lodgok was, ominis cringed.

"oh, that's not the worst part," you said, wiping a stray tear, "he asked why he should listen to someone so ignorant."

ominis winced once more, "yikes."

you grumbled, "tell me about it. i want to cry because, well, i understand why he is upset but lodgok is a lead to stopping ranrok, to being one step ahead."

your blind friend nodded, "agreed, and if sirona trusts him, that's saying something."

you both stood in silence, the occasional sniffle from your nose giving ominis hints of how much this bothered you.

"give him time to cool off," he began. "anne is a sore spot for him, but he needs to understand that she won't be the only one cursed without your goblin friend's help. you made your way into his heart, those that he cares about. you'll be fine."

you nodded, trying to formulate your words, "thank you, ominis. i apologize for putting you in the middle of this, but it was nice to have someone listen."

ominis smiled softly, "of course, y/n. meet you at dinner?"

with a quiet, "yeah," you watched ominis make his way out of the secret room, and once again, you were left with screaming thoughts. sobs immediately racked your body, regret aching from your tears and sore throat. there was nothing left by the time you were done, face dried with tears as you composed yourself.

taking a breath, you left the room and immediately looked down, seeing a letter by the 'door.' on the top left was ominis's handwriting, but the letter itself was unopened: told you he's gone soft for you.

with a pained sigh, you picked up the letter and opened it, reading the words:

we need to talk. undercroft after dinner?

"merlin's beard."

dinner was not something you could stomach at the moment, and to be honest with yourself, you were sure it could come right back up as you made your way to the undercroft. with a wave of your wand, you opened up the clock-looking door and headed inside, anxiety eating you up like a full-course meal.

sebastian had his back to you, staring intently at the triptych until he heard the door open. his eyes met yours immediately, and he softened.

"hi," he said, biting his lip nervously as you made your way over to him.

"sebastian, i-" you began, but he shook his head. with a small smile, he grabbed your hands and held them against his chest, "it's ok."

your eyes welled up with tears, "but it's not, seb. i should've been honest with you and i wasn't. I'm sorry, you have every right to hate me."

sebastian was silent as the tears fell down your cheeks until he wiped them away with his thumb. you sniffled, looking up at him. he grasped onto your hands once more, "you were hesitant to tell me because you know how much i care for anne, for my sister. you listen to me and want what is best - that has always been you. I'm not mad at you, dove. I'm mad at merlin for making that our last option."

you gave a sad excuse for a chuckle as he smiled at you. he continued, "dove, listen to me. I'm sorry for what i said. i know you aren't ignorant; i reacted harshly about your goblin friend, but you understand why?"

you immediately nodded, squeezing his hands, "of course, seb. i know how important it is for you to find a cure for anne, and i would never jeopardize that if there was a chance lodgok could betray us. but he's good, honest."

sebastian grinned, and you continued, "i'm not mad at you either, y'know. you're good to me, seb, and i was just scared i lost you."

he held your face between his hands, thumbs softly rubbing over your cheeks as he adored you, "you could never lose me, dove. you are one of the few good things left in my life and i'd be an idiot to let you go."

you swallowed a sob as tears clouded your vision, but Sebastian hushed you, "it's okay, sweetheart. we're okay - i trust you. promise."

you nodded and gave a small smile, "i trust you too, seb. promise."

leaning forward, sebastian nudged his nose with yours, and you giggled as he mumbled, "there's my pretty dove." and with that, Sebastian sealed your lips in a kiss, your hands wrapping around his neck as he grounded himself on your hips.

maybe you should send lodgok a thank you card.

maybe you should send lodgok a thank you card later.

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your-writer-beta-side-piece · 1 year

Text

Lust

Sebastian Sallow x f!Reader

WARNING: 18+ smut, dark!sebastian,

NOTE: Anon request for "Seb + lust potion". Everyone is aged up! Tbh I don't know how I feel about how this turned out

Sebastian wasn't innocent at the beginning or end this quest. He had taken an interest in the dark arts since his 4th or 5th year at Hogwarts. He was driven by his parents ceaseless curiosity while they were alive and later in life by trying to cure Anne. After everything happened with his uncle and everyone involved chose to spare him the justice of the wizarding world, he toned it down.

That didn't mean he let go of it entirely. He continued to explore things that could be considered "dark arts" but things that could be used day-to-day or at least when it was convenient. Currently, he was in his home at Feldcroft, alone without Anne or Solomon to be his keepers.

He drank a bit too much Dragon Barrel brandy especially for someone trying to accomplish what he was. He wanted to modify a draught of Amortentia in a way that made it more than some temporary infatuation, but a way that made someone painfully lustful. And the someone he wanted to give it to was you.

You were the only person who was really in his corner anymore, but he hadn't been able to think straight since he'd officially lost everyone else. He hadn't been able to settle with all of the guilt and fear that any day one of you would just turn him in. So, he had taken to drinking and being a degenerate no matter how much you tried to save him.

If you knew his secrets, maybe you would finally turn your back on him for good, but for know you couldn't help that you loved him all these years.

Sebastian's problem was now that in the midst of his drinking and scheming, he took the Amortentia himself as opposed to having more of his brandy. He passed out shortly afterwards, at least making it to his couch. Which is where you found him in the morning.

You had come as you did every morning to make sure he at least ate one meal without booze. You came over sleepy and with just a knitted shawl to cover your night dress. It wasn't as if Sebastian was ever aware enough to notice you anymore, not like the hungry glances you used to see from him. And it was always dark when you wandered over from your stay, getting ready for the rest of your day in Sebastian's home.

When you came in the first thing you noticed was that he hadn't even made it to bed last night. It made you let out a sad sigh. You weren't cleaning up the mess of potion bottles he left out for god knows what, he could deal with that on his own, but you at least planned to wake him up.

"Sebastian..." your voice was soft as you shook his shoulders, unable to be anything but tender with him despite everything.

He heard you and groaned. He expected his skull to be throbbing from last night, but he felt really confused when the blood rushed to a different head. His eyes shot open and he startled the both of you, make you stumble to a seat right next to his knees.

"Sebastian?! What the hell did you drink last night?" He figured that out about as soon as his eyelids felt heavy looking at you. He could see the outline of your breasts, your hips, your curves; he could see everything through your thin gown and felt like he was going to explode. Did you always come over here like this? Is he that stupid to not have taken you yet?

His thoughts wandered all over the place as you placed a hand on his chest in worry. "Sebastian? Are you in there? What's wrong?" You hadn't seen him look this sober in a year or two honestly.

He squeezed his eyes shut tight, running a hand threw his hair before he propped himself up, face just inches from yours.

"I-yeah, I just had some really strange dreams. I don't know what happened last night."

You crossed your arms, ignoring the lure of his rough morning voice before scolding him, "Well, I'm not cleaning up whatever all this is. I'm not your maid."

His maid? Is that really how you felt? You stood up, shuffling over to his kitchen to get hot water started. His jaw nearly fell to the floor as he saw your entire silhouette through your gown; with the way the sun was shining it was like you were delivered to him on a silver platter.

He couldn't think straight. He was thinking about how constricting his pants felt, how hot his skin was, how much he wanted to practically eat you alive.

He stood up to stretch before he followed after you like a puppy. He peeled his old shirt over his head without a care. He felt like he was going to melt with it sticking to him.

When you turned around to meet him you had to work hard to contain your expression. You were looking right into his chest with how tall he'd gotten. All you could see were fleshy arms and chest just absolutely covered in freckles.

"Wait," you looked up at him, unable to contain your surprise as he spoke, "I know you're not my maid. I know how much you take care of me here," he used his fingers to swipe some loose hairs from around your face, "let me be your maid today."

You couldn't contain your laughter at how goofy he sounded. It made him a little bit angry, he just wanted to say whatever would get you to let him ruin your soft skin and he couldn't even manage that right anymore.

"Sebastian, I don't know what's going on today, but just go do whatever you do."

You waved him off, attempting to turn back towards the kitchen when he grabbed your wrist tightly, "I can run your bath for you?"

He dropped to his knees in front of you, looking up at you through his lashes as he brought your hand to his cheek.

"Please. I know I've been a burden, I've been - I've been bad, but I want to help. I want to do better by you."

You eye him strangely, unsure of what is going on. You've seen his charades and empty promises before and this definitely sounded like that. If you didn't know better you would almost think he was trying to seduce you in some weird way, but that would be a first.

"Seb. I love you dearly, but I don't know what you're doing and you know I don't trust you."

He groaned, dropping your hand, leaning his head against your legs. He was completely unable to resist running his hands along the back of your calves.

"Okay, you know how I go to Penny's Pub."

"Yes, Sebastian, unfortunately I do."

He started speaking again, standing up slowly as he did and caressing your curves the whole way up, he decided to play the helpless card, "I'm embarrassed," he intentionally avoided your gaze, " some woman I never met bought me a drink and I didn't feel so good so I came back here."

He was really trying to playing it up as he ran his fingertips up and down the back of your neck, "But I, I think she slipped me a lust potion. It's some gross modification of Amortentia."

He avoided your gaze, the redness in his cheeks in ears made it seem like he wasn't lying through his teeth.

"O-okay and what am I supposed to do?" The rise and fall of your chest came quicker, "You got yourself into this mess, it's nothing to do with me."

You did your best to brush him off, not wanting to give in to whatever game this was. Even if it was true, it didn't mean you owed him anything. He wasn't the Sebastian you used to know.

You attempted once more to turn away from him, but his grip along your jaw tightened. "I need you," he spoke aggressively before his lips met yours in a crushing kiss.

You placed your hands on his chest in attempt to push him back, but he responded by pinning you to the counter, tilting his head so he could speak low into your ear, "I know you need this too," his hand drifted to your skirts, dipping beneath to trace the skin of your thigh, "you can fight me, but I know I'll find you dripping underneath of here. I need the tight little pussy I've never been strong enough to take."

You could feel him drifting closer to the wetness you were ashamed of, you squirmed, but it made no difference. You could feel how stiff he was against you, how his hot commanding breath felt on your neck. "I can't hold back anymore," he whimpered, almost sounding sorry and pathetic for what he was about to do. His fingers passed through your slick folds, smearing it around to press a lubricated thumb to your clit.

"Sebastian..." You gave yourself to how good it felt, hands turned to fists as you clenched onto his pecs.

"I've been so stupid. Could've had you drooling on my cock like this the whole time." You let out a sharp moan of disappointment as he took is hand away before hoisting you onto the counter top.

He looked at you sinfully, your flushed demeanor of want and fear, your rumpled clothes splayed out over your legs you didn't even know you were spreading. He couldn't contain himself as he growled low in his throat, taking the collar of your gown and tearing through the buttons. He yanked harder still until the skirt tore straight in half.

There you were, naked, swollen, soaking, torn between the "no" you know you should give him and the fact that you can't seem to open your mouth open.

"You're so fucking perfect," for a few moments he couldn't bring himself to do anything besides stare and drink you in, "I'm going to leave bruises here," he palmed the skin of your hip, over the curve of your belly, continuing upwards, "and here. Maybe bite marks, maybe I'll leave my seed here to stain you," he flicked his fingers across your nipple, massaging the warm flesh.

He took the step forward to be directly between your legs, pinning your wrists to the counter top. He looked right into your eyes, "I might tie these up to mark them up too. So everybody can see what you let me do."

He knelt in front of you, his blown pupils never looking away from yours as he grabs you by the thighs and pulls you into his mouth. His lips cover your mound, tongue tracing your folds before flicking across your clit.

Your mewls and moans drive him to keep going and work harder, sucking on the sensitive nub and digging his fingers into your thighs. He looked beautiful between your legs, a mess of auburn hair with freckled fingers holding you hostage to his assault.

"Sebastian, Sebastian, I -" Your legs clenched and he gripped you hard to keep you from closing them, he knows your close. He's nearly done in for himself with your taste and scent, he felt like you could be his last meal and he would die a happy man.

When he feels the final tension from your legs he completely releases you, standing up and holding you by the hips. You nearly have tears in your eyes from how close you were when he denied you of it. You could see his damp mouth and chin just inches from your face.

You flinch when he swipes a finger through your folds before bringing it up to your lips. You feel embarrassed to smell and see your arousal. He uses his clean hand to drag your chin down and force your mouth open, "Taste how dirty you are, Y/N. You've been so needy for me this whole time."

You can feel the tears of frustration about to come out as you let him pop his finger into your mouth, forcing you to clean it all off.

"I bet it hurts to be so pent up, so close, but not able to get what you want," a wet slap echoes through the room as you bite your lip to hold back your pleas, "that's how you've made me feel this whole time. Trouncing around in a harlot's clothes, waiting for someone to stop being a gentleman," he chuckled darkly, "but I bet you didn't expect it would be me who would torture you."

You can't find any words as you see the look of nothing but lust on his face, he has no compassion for you right now, he's thinking only of doing all the things he's wanted for so long.

You find yourself slightly surprised as he lifts you up to carry you into his bedroom where he tosses your bare form onto the bed. You feel like prey with how he looks down at your form.

Yet you can't find it in you to look away as he pulls his belt from his trousers first, then unfastening the button to allow the to hit the floor, taking his undergarments with them.

He's bigger than you anticipated. His cock is swollen looking as if it's about to burst at any moment as he crawls between your legs to pin you down. You yelp as he pulls you by you hips to meet his cock, grinding against you while he covers your lips with his.

The kisses are sloppy as his tongue traces patterns on your lips before you let him in, he pulls at your lips with his teeth leaving bitten flesh before you finally let him inside. They're suffocating and intoxicating all at the same time, every sensation feels like it's magnified at this point.

You wrap your arms helplessly around him, feeling his pulse through his biceps and the tensed muscles along his back. He moves downward to your breasts leaving a trail of bites while you rut against each other for relief.

He pulls back to take in the full site of you before positioning himself at your entrance. He wants to see you fall apart when you have the full force of him inside of you. Without any time to react he thrusts himself into you, the room filling with the sounds of moans and wet skin.

All he cared about was how you practically swallowed his cock. You were wet and needy and he felt like he could have cum on the spot, but he wanted to hold back. He wanted to make you sore, to show everyone what he had done to you.

He fucked you relentlessly with one hand braced on your hip and another he moved down to play with you once more. He needed you to like it whether you wanted to or not. He needed to know he made you finish with the full force of his cock and his fingers.

You could see how flushed he was in the face and chest, clearly holding back. You couldn't deny how attractive he was as he pounded in and out of you. As you noticed all the freckles on his body in place you had never imagined they'd be; the way his hands looking pressing into your skin almost painfully.

The way he looked down at you with hooded eyes, intent on leaving you destroyed as he fucked you and fought to give you the orgasm he so abruptly took from you earlier.

You felt it building in your stomach and pulled Sebastian down on top of you, feeling greedy to want to feel his weight all over you when you came crashing down. You felt it through your stomach like electricity as you squeezed your legs around him crying out nonsense from the pleasure.

When he realized you were there he picked up his pace, allowing himself the permission to release right inside of you. He grunted and you could feel him so deep inside that you thought you were going to fall apart. He had wanted to shoot his ropes of cum all over you and see you as his crumpled up little mess, but he didn't have the strength to do it.

He collapsed against you and you both breathed heavily together. He didn't know if the potion made these things any more intense, but he felt like he could see stars from how hard he had just finished. He clutched at you a little more gently then before, nuzzling into your neck.

"Y/N..." your name fell off of his lips in a deep sigh. The smallest bit of guilt settling in with him now that he was 100% not under the influence of anything else.

You let yourself play with his hair softly as he spoke up, "I need to tell you something."

3K notes · View notes

your-writer-beta-side-piece · 1 year

Text

Jealousy, jealousy

Word Count: 5.5k

Themes: fluff, pining, Sebastian is a bit of an ass. I left Y/N’s house as ambiguous as I could so you can use whichever one you like :)

Warnings: All characters aged up to 18+. Potential spoilers for HL

“You’re staring,” Ominis murmured before letting out a quiet sigh. “Again.”

“She’s talking to Weasley,” Sebastian muttered back, his arms folded across his chest.

“Which one?” he asked, a wry smile slipping into his face. Ominis didn’t need to be able to see to know Sebastian was glaring at him.

“Garreth, you prat.” A brief silence fell over the pair as Sebastian continued to watch the interaction between Y/N and Garreth Weasley. Y/N threw her head back and laughed at something Garreth said, and Sebastian felt something in his chest tighten as the sun caught on the natural highlights hidden in her hair. “He can’t be that funny.” Garreth muttered something to Y/N and she turned in his direction to catch his eye. He felt every nerve in his body as she smiled sweetly at him and waved her fingers to say hello before looking back at the wizard in front of her. “He’s just using her.”

“How can you be so sure?” Ominis’ eyebrows shot up in surprise as he turned his head to look at Sebastian (he hoped he was, at least).

“Isn’t everyone?” Sebastian asked. Ominis had been there with him that fateful day in the bathrooms. They had both heard what had been said, had both heard the chorus of laughter and agreement that followed.

“Everyone but you, you mean.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Ominis,” he looked away from Y/N to narrow his eyes at his friend beside him. “You’re not using her either.”

“Aren’t I?” Ominis asked. There was a beat of silence between them before he laughed loudly at the lack of response from the brunet, and he could almost picture the incredulous look being shot his way.

Sebastian would blame the sun, he decided, if anyone asked why he was frowning in your direction. It had come out today, and the trio had taken advantage of the warmth it provided to sit in the gardens by the north entrance for the castle. It seemed they hadn’t been the only ones to have the idea and it wasn’t long before Y/N had leapt from her position in the grass next to him to greet Natsai Onai and the red-clad gaggle that seemed to follow. Sebastian couldn’t help but begrudge Natty (who was a wonderful witch despite being in Gryffindor) from stealing you away from him. He had been content with your arm pressed against his, your legs touching as you stretched out beside him, head almost resting on his shoulder as you watched the clouds drift by.

Ominis twirled his wand idly in his hands, the sensor pulsing every-so-often to let him know Sebastian was still brooding beside him. Although he didn’t need it to, because if he listened carefully he could hear Sebastian mutter to himself occasionally as he more than likely watched Y/N from across the gardens. It wasn’t loud enough for Ominis to hear everything he was saying, but he did manage to catch phrases such as stupid Gryffindors and was just going to hold her hand. The latter made Ominis snort in amusement. Sebastian had been working up the courage to admit his feelings for the third member of their little group since the beginning of their sixth year, and now here they were nearing the end of their seventh and final year.

He had tried to tell Sebastian - time and time again - that there was nothing to fear and that he strongly suspected you returned his feelings, but he refused to listen. Ominis wouldn’t outright betray your trust and inform Sebastian of the late night conversations they shared where you voiced your concerns for the brunet, voice tinged with more than just friendly admiration. Instead, he subtly tried to push the pair together with flimsy excuses to explain his perpetual absence. Not that it did any good when either of you refused to acknowledge the Erumpent in the room.

It could be worse, he mused, I could actually have to witness the pining between them, instead of just hearing about it.

“Get up,” Sebastian nudged Ominis gently and stood up. “Come on.”

“Where are we going?”

“We’re going to save Y/N,” Sebastian replied as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

“Y/N doesn’t need saving,” Ominis rolled his eyes, but stood up nonetheless, brushing grass from his robes. “In fact, I need to remind you that she has saved us. Several times.”

“Don’t start,” Y/N laughed and rolled her eyes at him. “Garreth was just telling me about his newest potion idea.”

“Well, call this us returning the favour,” he tugged Ominis in the right direction softly before letting go of his robes and stalking over to where Y/N and Garreth were sat talking, set a little apart from the rest of the Gryffindors. “Y/N…Weasley.” He nodded once at the wizard and came to a stop right next to Y/N. Ominis, wand held aloft, offered the ground an awkward smile. “I can’t believe you left us for a bunch of Gryffindors,” he looked down at her, forcing a chuckle so he didn’t start an inter-house fight. “Are we not enough for you?”

“Planning on getting her into more trouble by making her sneak into Sharp’s office for supplies again?” The comment earned Sebastian a nudge in the ribs from Y/N, but Garreth chuckled and shook his head.

“Actually, I was hoping Y/N would accompany me to the Forbidden Forest soon to gather some ingredients.”

“Not man enough to go it alone?” Sebastian nodded thoughtfully. The tips of Garreth’s ears were tinged pink as he looked between the three of them, before an easygoing smile fell across his features.

“Is that why you keep asking her to join you on trips to spider caves?” Ominis let a laugh slip out at Garreth’s words, and Sebastian shot him a glare for it. Y/N shuffled nervously on her feet between them all, sensing some tension simmering under the surface. She wasn’t sure why they were both standing there, chests puffed out, and had a feeling she didn’t want to know. The only one who didn’t seem to be stancing was Ominis, who looked just as out of place as she felt.

“I don’t mind going into the forest,” Y/N supplied quietly. Two pairs of eyes shot her way, and Ominis looked a little to her left. “I mean, I need to go anyway. Ms Bugbrooke asked me to go and check in on a unicorn she named Hazel and find a way to keep her safe.”

“I thought we were going to go do that this weekend?” Sebastian asked.

“You could all go,” Ominis supplied. He could feel Y/N relax from beside him, her hand reaching between their robes to squeeze his arm in gratitude. “Saves for multiple trips to the forest.”

“I don’t think that’s wise,” Sebastian frowned, crossing his arms. Garreth gave them all a half-hearted smile and shrugged.

“You let me know, Y/N. I’ve got to get to Charms, I can’t be late again or Ronen will tell my aunt,” he shuddered at the thought and waved goodbye to the three of them before turning to walk away. Y/N offered Garreth a forced smile as he left and waited until he was well out of earshot before whirling around to face Sebastian and hit him with her glove.

“What was that?”

“What was what?”

“Don’t play dumb, Sebastian. It doesn’t become you.”

“Sweetheart, everything becomes me,” he sent her a cocky grin, his body language loosening now that Garreth was gone. “Do you want me to walk you - both of you - to class?” He bent down to pick up her discarded bag and slung it over his shoulder.

“Don’t change the subject,” she sighed in annoyance, her eyes narrowing. “You always seem to do this whenever I’m speaking to someone.”

“I don’t do it to Poppy, Natty, Imelda, or Ominis.”

“Please, leave me out of this,” Ominis muttered, looking away from them as they began to walk to the castle for class. Even though he knew he couldn’t see it, Sebastian still shot his friend a look as if to say way to back me up, help me out here and hoped he would get the message. The trio walked in silence until they passed the History of Magic classroom.

“Why don’t you let me talk to any of our classmates?”

“You’re talking to me, aren’t you? And you speak to Ominis all the time,” Sebastian gestured at his friend, who cringed internally at being brought back into this. He hoped if he kept silent that they would forget he was there, and perhaps he could sneak off and make it to class on his own. Not that it would do much good - he shared his next class with Y/N, and Sebastian was sure to follow. They had overheard a conversation between her, Imelda, Poppy and Natty about the chivalrous actions some of the wizards at the school took to get the attention of the witches and which ones in particular seemed to charm the girls the most. Ever since then Sebastian had held her school bag and walked her to every class.

“Stop trying to be charming, Sebastian. I’m annoyed at you.”

“You think I’m charming?” Sebastian grinned down at her, earning a quiet whack as she hit him with her glove again. “Why are you so violent today?”

“Why are you so bothersome today?” she shot back. Ominis smiled to himself and walked a little faster. As much as he enjoyed hearing Y/N rip into Sebastian, he did not want to get caught in the middle.

Y/N wrapped her arms around herself, trying to fight the chill that lingered in the stone walls after the warmth they had felt outside. Sebastian had been acting differently lately. Some days he was attentive, almost sweet; others like today, he was a nuisance, plain and simple. She never knew who she was going to get - the man who greeted her with coffee and a smile in the mornings, his hand lingering on hers after he handed her the mug, or the sulking mass walking by her. Her eyes fell on his back, watching as his muscles rippled through the white shirt, at her bag hanging on his shoulder.

He never aimed that gruffness in her direction, she realised. Even now, he was holding her bag for her and looked over his shoulder to see if she was still with them, a breathtaking smile falling on his face when he caught her eye. It was only ever when one of their male classmates spoke to her, standing a little too close that he began to act out, and despite his protests that she spoke to Ominis, she had seen him do it with him too. It was to a lesser scale, but even this morning he had placed himself between the pair as they all sat in the sun, his shoulder pressed against hers.

“Why won’t you let me speak to any men?” the words slipped out of her mouth before she could process them. Sebastian came to a stop and looked at her in confusion. She was vaguely aware of Ominis slowing as well from in front of them, a low groan escaping from him.

“What?”

“That conversation you were having with Garreth wasn’t exactly pleasant, and it’s not the first time this has happened.” Sebastian watched as she twisted her fingers together nervously and longed to take her hand in his. “Don’t you want me to be happy?”

“You think Weasley is going to make you happy?” Sebastian raised an eyebrow.

“I-I don’t know! But how am I meant to find out when you keep…”

“When I keep…?” His casual tone infuriated Y/N, and judging by the amusement in his eye and the twitch in the corner of his mouth, he knew it.

“When you keep acting so possessive!”

“Maybe I’m just a good judge of character and know none of those simpering idiots who keep coming over are enough for you.”

“Enough for me - ” Ire flared at his words and she gave him a withering look. “You have some nerve, Sebastian Sallow. And you,” she glared at Ominis, who had the decency to look a little frazzled at her anger. “I expected better from you, you’re always by his side whenever this happens. Care to explain yourself?” Ominis shook his head slowly and backed away a few steps as Sebatian came forward.

“Don’t take it out on him, he had no part in this.”

“Good to know the stupidity started and ended with you, then,” Y/N snapped. She turned her back on him and walked a few steps away to calm down. “Why do you always do this to me, Sebastian? Give me one good reason why you keep acting out like this.”

“I’m only looking out for your best interests. You need someone who will challenge you,” Sebastian stood taller, annoyance flashing in his eyes. “Not a lapdog who will roll over every time you call their name. You need an equal.” Ominis grimaced at his best friend's words and slowly began to back away. He didn’t make it too far before someone bumped into him, pausing to listen to the argument occurring in the hallway.

“Who are you to presume anything about my happiness?” Y/N stalked forward to poke Sebastian in the chest roughly. “Who would even fit within your insane standards for me? Who would challenge me, make me happy, treat me as their equal?” she asked, all but spitting the words at him. “You?”

“Maybe.” Sebastian shrugged, not quite meeting her eye as he shuffled between his feet nervously.

“You…” Y/N let out an incredulous laugh. “You’re something else, Sallow.” In all the times Y/N had imagined Sebastian admitting he may return his feelings for her it never went like this, in a corridor attracting the attention of their classmates with their fight. “I have done nothing but wait for you to notice me for two years, Sebastian. And when I finally realise you’ll never see me the way I want and decide to move on, that’s when you’re determined to want me?”

“I don’t just want you,” his voice was hoarse with her declaration. Two years? How could she not see that I’ve noticed her, that I've only ever noticed her? How could this have gone wrong so fast.

“You’re nothing but a jealous coward.” With one final poke to the chest, Y/N took her bag and started to walk away from him and the little crowd that had gathered.

“You think I don’t know how selfish I’m being?” Sebastian called out, suddenly finding his voice. He followed her path, near enough pushing anyone aside who stood in his way. “I would give anything - anything - to go back to that day we first met. Back when all you were was Atë personified, before I realised how absolutely breathtaking every inch of your soul is. You’ve ruined me, Y/N!”

“And that’s my fault?”

“I’m not saying that!” Sebastian groaned and reached for the sleeve of her robe to pull her to a stop. He quickly rescinded his hand when she shot him a menacing glare as if to say I dare you.

“Then what are you saying?” she asked. Doubt clutched him, stopping the words from leaving his mouth. He must have waited a beat too long to respond because Y/N sighed, and the disappointment on her face was enough to bring him to his knees as she continued to walk away from him, the students they had attracted parting to let her through. She had made it halfway down the corridor when sharp panic squeezed his chest tightly.

“I’m in love with you!” he shouted after her. His face flamed at the confession, at the sudden whispers of those around him as his words echoed down the stone corridor. Y/N stopped, and for a second Sebastian felt hope that she would turn around and say she loved him too. That it was him she wanted, who she always wanted.

“Well, you have a funny way of showing it.” He watched in despair as she walked away from him, slipping through the doors that would take her into another hall. There was a dull roaring in his ears, drowning out the sudden whispers that had started around him. A gentle hand landed on his shoulder and he looked over slowly to see Ominis, a grim look on his face. Sebastian couldn’t bear to see the sympathy in his gaze, to hear the voices around him talking about his rejected confession.

“All right, show’s over!” he growled, shaking Ominis’ hand from his shoulder. “Everyone clear off.” He rolled his shoulders and stood a little straighter before stalking down the corridor. The younger students jumped out of his way, and he caught the looks of pity from those in his year. Poppy tried to step forward and speak to him, but he just shook his head at her and walked out of the hall and made his way to the Undercroft.

*~*~*~*~*

It had been nearly a week since Y/N and Sebastian’s argument in the middle of the hallway and she could still hear people whisper about it as she walked by, as if she couldn’t hear a word they were saying. A group of Ravenclaws were sitting at a table in the library near Y/N, Poppy and Imelda, and every-so-often they looked over and started to giggle.

“Just ignore them,” Poppy murmured to her.

“No,” Imelda glared at the group, who immediately quieted down and looked away. “They need to learn to keep their mouths shut, or I’ll do it for them.” She raised her voice just enough for them to hear her threat and they quickly packed their things and left in a flurry of navy robes.

“You can’t threaten everyone in the school, Imelda,” Y/N said with a sigh, not looking up from her Charms textbook. Another group would soon come and replace that one, and the cycle would just repeat itself.

“Watch me.” Her grin was unnerving to say the least. “What’s he doing in here?” Y/N looked up to see Sebastian walking up the stairs into the upper part of the library where they were currently sitting. He looked around, a little unsure of himself and Y/N’s heart clenched in her chest at the sight. He always looked so confident, even when he was utterly terrified, but now he just looked lost. “He better not come over here.”

“Imelda,” Poppy sighed and shook her head. “We don’t even know if he’s here for Y/N, he could be here to study.” Even though Poppy was right, Y/N couldn’t help but wish that he was here for her, that he wanted to speak to her.

“No you don’t, wipe that look off your face,” Imelda pointed her quill at Y/N. “Don’t go mooning over him after what he’s put you through. You don’t need someone who’s going to treat you that poorly.”

“He doesn’t exactly look great himself.”

“Who’s side are you on, Sweeting?”

“I didn’t realise there were any.” Y/N rolled her eyes as the pair continued to bicker, her gaze turning back to Sebastian, who had turned in their direction as he heard Poppy and Imelda arguing. He caught her eye and began to slowly make his way to their table, casting a weary glance at Imelda as he neared.

“What do you want, Sallow?” Imelda snapped at him, turning on him as he got closer.

“Hello, Sebastian, are you alright?” Poppy nudged her in reprimand and offered him an awkward smile.

“I-I’d like to speak to Y/N, if that’s okay,” he asked, not quite looking at any of them.

“Come to shout more declarations of love in my face?” It was a low blow, and Y/N knew it. She watched as he flinched slightly and looked away from her, his shoulders slumped in defeat. She was vaguely aware of Poppy grabbing onto Imelda’s robes to pull her away while the latter protested as she stared at him. There were dark circles under his eyes as if he hadn’t slept in days, and his shirt and robes were rumpled. “Sit down,” she muttered, closing her book. “You look like you’re about to pass out from exhaustion.”

Sebastian listened, his hands running through his hair as he slumped down into a seat. He looked awful, Y/N noted, eyes wandering over his frame. It went beyond the creased clothes and the lack of sleep. He looked paler, and Y/N watched as he sighed heavily and rubbed a hand down his face.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I went too far.” There was a different level of weariness in his voice, it went down to his bones, his very soul. The man in front of her was not the one she had fallen for. Her heart ached as he looked up at her slowly with dull eyes. “I always go too far.”

“You do,” she murmured. His eyes slid shut at her words and he braced himself for a blow that wasn’t coming. “And yet, somehow, I always forgive you for it.” She hated admitting it out loud, but once her rage had simmered and the adrenaline had left her a few hours after their fight, she had forgiven him. She could never stay mad at him for long. Even after their only other argument that had happened in the Undercroft years ago when he had called her ignorant for trusting a goblin and stormed out she hadn’t been hurt or angry, just concerned for him.

“I don’t deserve you.”

“No, you don’t.” She waited until he looked at her before giving him a small, teasing smile. They stared at each other for a few seconds in silence, each drinking in the different ways the other had changed in the past few days until Y/N sighed and looked away again. “I’m not an object to be possessed, Sebastian. You can’t just stake your claim on me.”

“I never…I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be like this. I just…” he sighed and tried to sit a little straighter in his seat. Y/N waited patiently for him to finish his sentence, waited as the wheels turned in his head and he tried to figure out what he wanted to say. He looked at her from the corner of his eye, his heart constricting in his chest and he saw the matching dark rings under her eyes.

“I’m not going to fight you, Sebastian,” Y/N said gently, reaching his hand. She stopped before she could touch it and instead started to fiddle with the quill Poppy had left behind. “You can say what you need to.”

“It’s not pleasant.”

“None of this has been.”

“No, it hasn’t,” he smiled without humour and finally looked her in the eye. “Ominis and I once heard a conversation in the bathroom. I don’t think they realised we were in there, and they were gone before we could confront them. They were talking about you. About how they wanted to spend time with you and ask you to accompany them - alone, might I add - to the Three Broomsticks so that they could be seen with the Hero of Hogwarts.” Sebastian all but spat the nickname out, hating it in that moment. “They all left before I could see who they were. Ever since then I’ve stood between you and anyone who looked like they were trying to express interest because I didn’t know who was genuine and who was just using you.”

“Garreth…” Sebastian hated himself for being the one to break the news, for putting that heartbroken expression on her face. Y/N felt her stomach churn in revulsion and grief. She wasn’t stupid, she knew there were people in the school who only wanted to be seen with her because of what she was as opposed to who she was. She knew some of the requests she politely turned down for company and a drink in Hogsmeade weren’t out of attraction, but rather a ploy to get into her graces. She never suspected Garreth would be one of them. She was hurt - not because she had feelings for him, but because she had thought they were friends.

“No, I made a mistake with him.” He pulled a face as he admitted he was wrong. “It turns out he actually wants to get to know you - the real you.” Oh. Oh. Y/N felt her face flush and Sebastian looked away. He couldn’t bear to watch her blush over Garreth Weasley, or anyone, for that matter.

“What about you?”

“What about me?”

“Your delivery was less than ideal but…did you mean it? Do you mean it?” she asked nervously, her voice no more than a whisper. Sebastian hated the look on her face, hated seeing her so unsure of herself.

“Y/N, I’ve been in love with you since our fifth year.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means,” he held a hand out for hers, letting her make the decision if she wanted to take it or not. A few seconds passed, and he was just about to rescind the offer, when she shyly placed her hand in his. He squeezed her hand gently, his thumb brushing her knuckles as he tried not to think about how perfectly her hand fit in his. “It means that I want you to be happy,” he murmured, “and if Weasley makes you happy - or anyone else who wishes to genuinely court you - I’ll take a step back.”

It hurt him to say the words out loud, to voice the possibility that after all this she wouldn’t want him anymore. Not the way she had once, the way he currently still wanted her. He let her collect her thoughts, watched as she chewed on her lower lip.

“What if…what if I don’t want you to?” Y/N asked, voice so quiet he almost missed it.

Sebastian’s heart stuttered at the blush that rose to her cheeks, and he wanted nothing more than to pull her into his arms, to be the only one that made her blush like that ever again. For the rest of their lives. The thought startled him slightly, but he realised it was true. He wasn’t saying he wanted to marry her (although, a rather enticing image of Y/N floating down the aisle to him in a white dress did flash to mind), but he wanted to stay by her side. Whether that was in a friendly capacity or more. Merlin, did he hope it was more.

“I meant what I said too, about waiting for you to notice me,” she continued.

“Darling, I’ve not noticed anyone else since the day I met you.” He brushed his thumb across the back of her hand again and squeezed it gently before pressing a kiss to her knuckles. He watched in satisfaction as her blush deepened, and tried to read the flicker of emotions that passed across her face. “I’m more than aware my confession was…something, to say the least (Y/N rolled her eyes at this) but I meant what I said. I’m in love with you, Y/N Y/L/N. I have been for a while now.” She looked away, unable to handle the deep emotions swirling in his eyes, that are written clearly on his face for anyone to see. She didn’t doubt for a second that he was telling the truth. “I don’t expect you to say it back.”

“I…I’m not good with all of this. I can’t quite say if it’s love but…” Her face burns, and she feels as if it will be a permanent shade of red after this conversation. “I am entranced by you, Sebastian Sallow. I’ve never been in love before, never felt it in anything more than a friendly capacity, but with you…it’s different. It runs far deeper than I can explain.” She presses a hand to her chest, right above her heart that is beating so hard it’s a wonder he can’t hear it. “I can’t picture my life without you in it, whether that is as a friend or more.”

Y/N doesn’t know how else to put it into words. She can’t seem to say that it’s been him from the very beginning. From the moment she beat him in their first duel and he was thrilled instead of being put out she knew she was in trouble. She’d only fallen faster and harder since then, from their first trip to Hogsmeade where he flirted with her the whole way, until the day his uncle had died and she had talked Ominis out of sending him to Azkaban.

“You don’t need to say it back,” Sebastian repeated, his grip on her hand tightening as he took note of the adoration in her eyes. “I mean, how could you not be in love with me?” Y/N laughed loudly before clapping her hand over her mouth suddenly. They waited with baited breath for Scribner to come and reprimand them, only relaxing when they couldn’t hear her making her way up the stairs.

“You have to apologise to Garreth.” Sebastian groaned at her words, but there was a smile on his face that he couldn’t quite hide from her. Already he looked better. He still needed a good night’s sleep, in Y/N’s opinion, but life was returning to his eyes and he sat a little straighter, a little taller.

“Where does this leave us?” he asked, shuffling his chair closer to hers so their knees could press together under the table. He hooked one foot under her ankle and tangled their legs together, enjoying the look on her face as he did so.

“I’m still mad at you. But knowing you did this to be noble…to protect me. That lessens the blow.” She gently squeezed his leg between hers, grinning to herself as she watched him take his turn to blush. “I do hope you know I don’t need protection though.”

“My still-healing ego from our first Defence Against the Dark Arts class together remembers.”

He’s rewarded with her laugh again, her real one, and he makes a silent promise to make her laugh the same way every day for the rest of their lives. Every muscle in his body loosens at the sound, and he feels like he can finally breathe again when she grins at him and tugs him a little closer by his tie.

“If you ever pull a stunt like this again…” Although there was still a smile on her face, the threat was evident in her eyes. He nodded quickly, throat bobbing as she twirled his tie between her fingers and let go. She watches as he looks down at her lips nervously and gratification shot her through as his face slowly flushed. A smirk falls on her face at this, and she raises an eyebrow at him when he finally looks up to meet her gaze. “Feeling a little warm?”

“What, no.” He leans back and rubs the back of his neck, his blush deepening.

“Ah, so you’re just blushing like a third year at the thought of kissing me.”

“I’m not blushing.”

“So you want to kiss me?”

“Darling, I always want to kiss you.” The look he gives her makes her stomach flip. “Can I…”

“Not until you ask me properly.”

“To kiss you?”

“Sebastian.”

“Alright, alright, fine,” he grins, loving the way she rolls her eyes at him. “Will you do me the honour of joining me on a trip to Hogsmeade?”

“Right now?”

“Right now.”

“Sebastian, it’s nearly curfew.”

“And when has that stopped you before?” he laughs and begins to gather her things into her bag before slinging it over his shoulder. He holds a hand out to her expectantly and waits until she grabs a hold of it before they leave the library, waving goodbye at Imelda and Poppy (who are doing their very best - and failing - to eavesdrop). They make it as far as the doors that lead to the greenhouses when Sebastian pulls her under the stairs, ensuring no one can see them as they dip into one of the shadows. She meets him halfway, pressing their lips together in a long overdue kiss.

“Do you have any final demands for this? For us?” he murmurs against her lips.

“Only one.” Her fingers run through his hair and his heart stutters in his chest. “I’m never going to make this easy for you. I'm going to challenge you every day for the rest of our lives.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

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your-writer-beta-side-piece · 1 year

Text

playing house || j. miller

summary: you’re tired of playing house with Joel. you’re tired of pretending that you don’t want something more from him than unspoken touches on nights when you both feel lonely. your body finally gives in to what you want, barely leaving room for your mind to follow.

warnings: alcohol, smut smut smut, drunkish sex, fingering, oral (fem ), unprotected sex, dirty talk, breeding kink, creampie, some angst, blood imagery, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, gross men, probably ooc joel, swearing, female reader, let me know if i missed any ‘cause i probably did

word count: 4k

A/N: i haven't written smut in like two years…let’s not discuss it. anyways, i played tlou like a year ago cause i saw an edit of joel miller and goddd. i fell in love w/ pedro as mando, so him as joel? unexpected surprise. love it.

here's my masterlist if you want to read more of my work!

It’s hard to remember how it started.

You met him without hope. Life was reduced to surviving, and you knew that you’d never exist for pleasure again. You knew that everything you had hoped for, everything you had hoped to be, was washed away with everything else on that great September day.

You met him long after life had its way with both of you. Your flesh was painted with the whisper of knives on your skin. His was too, but the marks were accompanied by lines that came as easy as time, the colour driven from his hair an ever-present reminder of his loss.

You met him when his hands were covered in your blood. You had limped into the first place you could find free of infected. The wound in your thigh wept blood as you shut the door to the dingy house behind you. You fell into the closest wall for support, sliding down until you hit the ground. You tightened the makeshift tourniquet around your leg. Your pant leg was soaked with the dark liquid. The metallic smell of blood hung in the air around you. The humid air clung to your skin as it glistened with the effort your body was giving to try and keep you alive.

You were shivering, but it wasn’t cold. Were you shivering? Or were you trembling? The pain rippled up your leg and through your body. Your spine felt like a saw cutting through your body. You couldn’t think as straight as you needed to in this world. The only thing that kept bouncing around your brain was sleep sleep sleep.

You succumbed to the soft promises of rest as your mind lulled you into sleep. Deep sleep.

“Joel, come on! We can’t just fucking leave her here. She’s still breathing.”

“She could be bit, Ellie.”

“She’s not! She’d be fucking tweaking by now and shit.” There was a faint pressure on your leg.

“Ellie! What the fuck are you doing? Get off-”

“She’s not bit, Joel, it’s from a gun. We can’t just leave her to die…”

“We don’t even know her!”

“I don’t care! I’m tired of leaving people to die. I’m tired of everyone dying. This is one person we can save.”

There was silence for a few seconds. You started falling into the remainder of sleep you clung to.

“Move over.”

Another pressure on your leg. Someone slipping the tourniquet off your leg. The sound of a blade cutting through fabric. Your eyes fluttered open. A burly man and a young girl sat in front of you. The girl’s hands were dripping with blood. His were on your leg, pressing, pressing, pressing.

“Fuck,” he breathed. “She’s lost a lot of blood. Ellie…I don’t know if we can-”

“Stop,” you croaked out, your voice dry and rough, weaker than you intended it to be. You tried to push his hand away, but it was futile.

“Gonna help you, honey. Relax. Not gonna hurt ya,” he said. His voice was gruff, a Southern accent lacing in his voice.

The presence of the girl reassured you. Surely, a man wouldn’t kill you in front of his daughter, right? Besides, her supportive hand on your shoulder gave you some semblance of trust in them. You were too weak not to trust them.

“I’m Ellie. This is Joel,” she smiled and motioned at the man working on your leg. He grunted in response. Your name fell off your lips in a scratchy groan. She repeated it and smiled a reassuring smile.

Joel had your blood up to his elbows by the time he got the bullet out. Your screams from the searing, white-hot pain of him digging the bullet out of your leg had died and left your throat raw. Ellie let you sip from her canteen as Joel stitched you up with his First Aid kit. Slowly, your eyelids fell and your breath evened out again. Your body worked on building your energy back while Joel worked on closing up your wound, while Ellie worked on convincing Joel to let you go with them.

When you woke up, you would no longer be feverish, but you’d be frenzied, heart racing and palms sweating, shakily pointing your gun at Joel when he tried to check your wound for infection. You’d remember what he did for you, and you’d put it down. You’d apologize for freaking out. You’d sit down to a “meal” with him and Ellie. And you’d try not to think about the fact that you owed him your life.

Tension built for fourteen months. You’d acted as if you stuck with the two for the reason you said you would the day that Joel saved you.

Where were you heading?

Nowhere, now. My family is gone. My friends are dead. Just me left.

It would be great to have another pair of hands to take care of that one, he said. She can be a handful sometimes.

You had just nodded and that was that. You have been with them ever since. Even when you made it to Jackson and settled down, the three of you settled into your own life together. You’d grown to love Ellie, yes, and you’d protect her with your life. But was that it? Wasn’t there some unspoken dedication you had to Joel, too?

Some nights, long after Ellie had gone to bed, the faint taste of old whiskey still on your tongue, you and Joel would find yourselves exploring each other, but never tasting more than each other’s lips offered. Sometimes, if he was feeling brave, he’d glide his tongue down your neck, kissing down the column of your throat, but you’d always stop him from going further. What would it be like when you woke up in the morning? Would he regret it? Or would he only want you for your body after that? Surely he didn’t feel the same way you did. Surely he had more resolve than you.

Surely it was obvious that there was no hope for the two of you. He only showed interest in you when the whiskey took over, his Southern drawl becoming drawn out and his jaw loosening.

You’d keep playing house with Joel and Ellie until you found a good enough reason not to. Until you could pry yourself away from the man who dragged you out of death’s grip.

A wedding in the apocalypse was fucking ridiculous. Two years ago, you would’ve started laughing hysterically when you were handed a wedding invitation.

But here you were. Some couple in Jackson decided to get hitched, and Tommy and Maria were just fine with having a huge wedding for them.

Jackson had developed some sort of an economy, so you bought a dress off of a sweet old seamstress a few houses over. It was a nice piece in your favourite colour. It was nice to be able to think about your favourite colour again.

The wedding was in a park. It was a nice, peaceful afternoon. The reception was at Jackson’s most functionable bar, the same bar that you and Joel frequently found yourself at after patrol shifts. Ellie was off somewhere with the other kids in Jackson.

Old country music filled the air from a radio behind the bar. You sat on the barstools with Maria, talking about supply, patrol, the wedding, anything, everything. You were a few drinks in by now, swaying slightly to the music, less tense, content.

“So, how’s Joel?” Maria said with a scheming grin and raised eyebrows.

“To hell if I know,” you huffed, downing your drink and flagging the bartender for another one.

“Oh, come on. Don’t tell me there isn’t something between you two.”

“There’s nothing between us two. Hear that?” you said, glaring at her. She hummed, as if to say sure there’s not.

“If it’s a matter of age, I think that flew out the window when people started biting each other-”

“God, Maria. Drop it, okay? He’s not into me. There’s nothing there,” you said, staring into your drink.

“You really don’t see it? The way he looks at you?” You glared. “Okay, I’ll stop. But for the record, there is someone who’s all over you right now,” she grinned and gestured to a guy at the other end of the bar. You groaned and turned back to Maria.

“Yeah, he’s been all over me since I fucking got here,” you said as you sipped your drink. She laughed and wished you goodluck. She wanted to go find Tommy.

You silently cursed yourself as the guy from the end of the bar moved to slide right into Maria’s old spot.

“Hey, pretty lady. Can I get you a drink?” He said with a smile on his face dripping with condescension.

“Got one,” you said, raising your drink back to your lips.

“A second, then?”

“I’ve already had my second. And my third. I’m good, thanks,” you said, giving him a tight-lipped smile. You hoped that would be the end of it.

“God, you’re feisty, huh?” He chuckled, finishing his own drink. “Good thing I like them that way.” His arm snaked around your waste. It made your skin crawl. You stood, trying to ignore the way you swayed back and forth.

“Look, buddy, I’m not interested. Fuck off.”

“Oh, come on, honey. Don’t be such a bitch,” he grinned, standing to wrap his arms around you.

You began to push him off, but he was torn from you and pushed into the bar instead.

“You heard the woman. Fuck off.” Joel. How the fuck did he get there so fast?

“She yours?” The man said, pointing at you. He laughed. “You can have her. A piece like that has probably slept with half of Jackson’s population. Fuckin’ bitch,” he growled, attempting to push past Joel.

“The fuck did you just say?”

“You heard me.” In seconds, the man was on the floor, cradling his jaw.

“What the fuck, man?” He whined.

“Get out.” Joel growled.

He scampered out of the bar, but not without a you’re fucking crazy.

Joel’s jaw was tense. Tenser than it has been in a while. He looked at you.

“You okay?” He said, voice softening.

“I’m fine, Joel,” you said, trying to push past him. He grabbed you by the shoulders and stopped you.

“Woah, what’s got you mad at me, darlin’?” Darling. Him and his fucking names. If only he could feel the effect it had.

“I can take care of my fucking self. And stop calling me that,” you seethed, finally pushing past him.

“Oh, come on,” he called your name, following you out of the bar.

Once outside, the fresh air helped you to sober up a little. The sky was darkening, streaked with a palette of oranges and pinks. You looked at your shoes and crossed your arms as Joel appeared beside you. He shoved his hands in his pockets.

“You gonna tell me what’s wrong?” He broke the silence. His voice was softer than normal, but it didn’t lack the gravel it usually has. You turned your face away from him. He moved to stand in front of you. His fingers found your chin, turning it to face him. “Hm?” Blush crept up your neck and to your cheeks. You pulled away from him.

“I’m fine. It’s nothing.”

“You’re not very convincing, honey,” he said, crossing his arms, eyes searching for yours.

“Don’t call me that. You…”

“I what?”

“You can’t say things like that,” you said, finally looking at him.

He took a step closer to you. You could feel his breath on your cheek. He smelled like whiskey and pine. Your breath caught in your throat.

“Why not, darlin’?” His voice was low, emphasizing the name.

You huffed out. “‘Cause it’s not fair. You can’t just go around calling me things like that with no weight behind it. Gives me the wrong idea.”

“And what idea might that be?”

That he cares. That he cares more for you than just what he shows you in the moments when your lips are on his. When he’s lonely. When he’s drunk. That he might be yours.

“Forget it,” you shake your head.

“Tell me,” he demands. “Tell me what I do to you.”

You shove him away from you. “Don’t fucking do that, Joel. Not again. I’m tired of it.”

He looked like a kicked puppy. Joel Miller, rejected? By you?

Maybe it was the alcohol. Maybe it was the adrenaline of having him this close to you. You kept going. “I’m tired of playing house and acting like I don’t want more.”

His brows furrowed, but his eyes told you to go on.

“I’m tired of acting like I don’t want you.”

The words hung in the air between you two. His lips parted and his gaze softened.

“And I know what you’re gonna say. You’re gonna sugarcoat it, but I’m begging you to just put me out of my misery. Just tell me you don’t want me so I can move on,” you breathed, that familiar feeling gathering in your chest and in your throat.

He cocked his head to the side. “Show me.”

“What? Joel-”

“Show me how much you want me.” Oh. Fuck.

To stop yourself from thinking about it any longer, you grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and pulled him into you. He caged you between his arms on the wall behind you. You could almost taste him, your breath mixing with his. Your chest heaved.

You brushed your lips over his, barely touching.

“Quit teasin’” he growled. Fisting the collar of his shirt once more, you pulled him forward, connecting your lips with his. It was a mess of teeth and tongue, feverish and needy. It was the destruction of the dam that you’d both built over months. And it felt good.

His hands moved to your hips, pulling you in close. You tugged on the greying hair at the base of his neck with one hand and ran your hand over the scratchy hair on his jaw with the other. He groaned. “Let’s go home, pretty girl.” He grabbed your hand and started leading you in the direction of your house. “Can’t do the things I wanna do to you outside of a bar.”

Joel broke from your mouth to throw you down on the bed. Then he was right back on you. He crawled on top of you, caging you underneath him. He kissed you like he was hungry, like he thought you would get away. You moaned into the kiss.

He slotted his thigh between your legs, the skirt of your dress riding up. Slowly, you began to grind on his thigh. Joel pulled away from the kiss. “Needy thing, aren’t you?” He said as he began sucking marks into your neck and chest. He pushed the straps of your dress down your shoulders so he had more flesh to lay his claim on. Sometimes he’d bite gently, then lick over it to soothe it. His hand ghosted over your breast, looking up to ask for permission. You nodded fervently.

“Words, honey. Gonna need words.”

“Yes, Joel. Do it. Do anything you want to me,” you said, just above a whisper. He groaned at the admission. He grabbed the fabric at your chest and pulled it down, past your tits. He palmed one, playing with the hardened bud, while his tongue drew circles on the other, his warm mouth enveloping your nipple. You were still grinding on his thigh as he sucked marks across your chest. It wasn’t enough, the heat in your core was spreading, but it wasn’t high enough. You needed more.

You whimpered, “Need more.”

Joel released your tit. “Need what, baby? Use your words.”

“Need you. I need you to do something. It’s not enough.”

He hummed. “And what do you want me to do, sweetheart? Tell me where you want me. Don’t get shy on me now.”

“I want you inside of me. Want your cock,” you blushed. He smirked. His hand travelled down, down, down, until he was cupping your heat.

“Here?” You nodded. “Hmm, that’s not gonna do, pretty girl. Gotta get you ready for me first. Don’t think you can take me just yet.”

“I can,” you argued, but he wouldn’t relent. He slid his shirt off instead. His chest and torso was littered with scars, proof of a heavy life. Proof that he was tired. Proof that he just wanted to lay down with someone instead of fighting. His position between your legs proof that he wanted to lay down with you.

“Don’t wanna hurt ya,” he said, his voice soft. His thumb traced the scar on your bare leg. “You’ve been hurt enough.” At that, he kissed you. But this was soft. Softer than any other kiss you’ve shared. It was passionate, but it wasn’t fueled by passion. It was fueled by something unspoken. Something new. Something blossoming.

When he pulled away, he kissed down your body, down your neck, down the valley of your chest, pulling your dress completely off to kiss down your stomach, all the way down, stopping at your core. He looked up at you, again, silently begging for permission.

“Please, Joel. I need you,” the heat seared in your centre, dripping from you. He hooked his fingers inside your panties and pulled them down your legs. You didn’t miss the way he tucked them in his back pocket.

Joel ran his ring finger through your folds, collecting your juices. “You’re fucking dripping, sweetheart. All of this is for me?” You whimpered a yes.

He grinned before flattening his tongue and licking a broad stripe up your pussy. As he lapped at your folds, the sounds you made were obscene. Nobody had ever made you feel this good. His tongue was like a blessing. He lit every nerve in your body on fire with just his touch. His hands squeezed the soft flesh of your thighs as he ate you out.

“I’m so close. So close. Please,” you moaned. Your hands found his head, pulling gently at his hair, making him groan into your core. He likes that. Noted.

The pressure was building in your core. The heat was scorching, running through your body, trickling down every inch of you. When he added a finger inside you (or two, you were too close to tell), the coil finally snapped, and you swear you died and he revived you. Flashes of white seared in your vision, your throat raw from the noises you were making for him. All for him.

When you finally came down, you were panting. Noticing the way you started to squirm out of sensitivity, Joel ceased his ministrations on your clit. He pulled his fingers from your hole and brought them to his lips, licking your juices from his digits. You moaned at the sight.

You pulled him up to your lips. He knew you could taste yourself on his tongue, and the thought made him harder, if that was even possible. It was now that you noticed the tent between his legs. You palmed him through his jeans, eliciting a groan from him.

“My turn,” you said, undoing his belt. His hand on your wrist stopped you.

“Not tonight, honey. Wanna be inside you.” You nodded your head and let him undo his belt. He tossed it to the side with his pants and boxers. His length stood from between his legs. You’ve wanted him so bad for so long, but you never could’ve imagined how big he’d be. Your mouth nearly watered at the sight. He chuckled as he observed you staring, mouth agape.

He took in the sight of you, laying, spread all pretty for him, clenching around nothing. Your slick and his saliva smeared between your thighs, chest heaving, cheeks flushed, a light sweat coating your skin. Fucked out. His hands explored your body, rubbing your soft flesh and pressing kisses across the expanse of your skin. “So beautiful. My pretty girl.”

His?

Joel’s mouth found yours once more. He rubbed himself across your folds to collect your slick. You squirmed. “Now who’s teasing?” you said, exasperated. He chuckled and lined himself up with your entrance.

He paused before pushing in. “Tell me something, honey. Tell me you’re mine,” he said. There was something different in his voice, something new. Or maybe it had just gone undetected for so long.

“I’m yours, Joel,” you said, barely above a whisper. “Always yours. Always have been.”

With that, Joel slowly pushed into you. When he bottomed out, you both moaned. “Fuck,” he groaned. Hands planted firmly on your hips, he pulled out and pushed back in again, harder this time, at a spearing pace.

He was setting a brutal pace, tightening the coil in your centre tighter and tighter. His hand travelled down to circle your clit. Still sensitive from before, your orgasm washed over you unexpectedly, making you clench on Joel’s cock. “Fuck, baby. Gonna milk me.”

Your legs were shaking now, you were past the point of comprehension. “Poor girl. ‘M fucking you dumb, hey?” Joel groaned. “Give me another one. C’mon, I know you can, pretty girl.”

“Anything. Anything for you,” you whined. Your orgasm neared fast, and you began to feel his thrusts falter with his impending release. “Cum inside of me. I want it,” you begged.

Joel groaned. “Fuck, honey. Gonna fill you up, sweet girl. You’d like that, huh? Fuck a baby into you? Fuck. Gonna be the death of me.”

His pace quickened, became more needy. Your orgasm hit you for the third time, Joel leaving your cunt ablaze, every nerve in your body on fire. Joel kissed you through your orgasm, finally spilling into you, moaning into your mouth as he came, filling your head, your heart, and your cunt with him him him.

He pulled away from you to catch his breath, but pecked small kisses on your lips and around your face between breaths. Your chests heaved.

You found yourself wrapped up in him under the blanket, drifting to sleep. Your bodies fit together like two pieces of the same puzzle. You laid in his arms in the dark, listening to his heartbeat, feeling his chest rise and fall steadily under your cheek, wondering what the morning would bring you. Wondering who you would be when you woke up. Would you wake up next to him? Did he mean anything he said?

You woke the next morning to the sun streaming in through the windows. The rays kissed your skin, dancing over the marks left by your lover. Your lover? Was he your lover?

You reached to the spot where he should be sleeping next to you. Your heart dropped a little when you felt the lack of his presence, fingers brushing over the-still warm bed sheet. You had let yourself believe that whatever last night was had been real. That he felt the same way you did. That you were really his. That he was yours. Maybe you woke as different people than you were last night.

You roll onto your back and scold yourself for being so naive, when you hear soft, deep humming coming from the hallway, getting louder the closer it gets. Joel.

Your eyes open as he enters the bedroom, holding two cups.

“Coffee,” he says gently, handing you one cup and sitting on the edge of the bed with his in his large hand. There’s something different about him today. Maybe it’s a different air. Or maybe it’s the gentle smile on his face as his eyes meet his marks on your neck and chest. Maybe it’s the lack of a crease between his brows this morning. He looks content.

You grin, blushing as you sit up, looking down at your coffee, shaking your head at yourself.

“What’re you worryin’ that pretty head of yours about?”

You give a curt laugh. “Nothin’. It’s stupid.”

“Nothin’ you think it stupid, pretty girl,” he says with a smile, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Tell me.”

“I just thought you’d left. Regretted last night or something.”

He chuckled lightly. “Hey, ‘m not goin’ anywhere anytime soon, got that?” You nodded. “I already told you. You’re mine, honey.”

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#joel miller x reader smut #joel miller #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal #the last of us #hbo's the last of us

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