AWWW âšď¸
Matchmaker
The Mandalorian x reader
Summary: Greef Karga takes it upon himself to help two fools find their way together.
Warnings/Tags: hurt, fluff, comfort, mentions of character death, a little angst (but only if you squint), spoilers for season 3
Word count: 2.652
Authors note: Hello my loves! Just finished season three of The Mandalorian, and I can't help but write something for my beloved Din! Seriously, I love him so much.
Also, I somehow wrote this not in past tense, but present tense. Don't know how that happened, but I'm okay with it.
Enjoy!
"What's up with you?" Greef Karga speaks up, head tilted as he tries to analyze your face. Spurred by his words you sit straighter in the chair opposite his, hoping to mask what's on your mind from the clever man.
But he knows you, he knows the tell tale signs when somethings up with you, when somethings bothering you.
His eyebrows rise, and you sigh in defeat.
Of course you can't hide your feelings from him. Over the time you've known him now, he somehow became a father figure for you.
"Do you think he'll settle down, now that he has a home here on Nevarro?" you ask, even though you already know the answer. The likelihood of him settling down, is even smaller than him returning your feelings for him.
You love him, even if you've never seen his face before.
Greef snorts in amusement, sending you a smirk that says the same thing. Never would Din Djarin settle down - at least not in the near future.
"Why are you asking?" Greef questions, brows furrowed. "Are you hoping he'll stay with you?"
Eyes widening, you stare at the magistrate, who dares to chuckle at your reaction. "What?" he quips, smirking. "Do you think I haven't noticed the way you're looking at him?"
You're mouth opens to protest, but you can't manage to utter a single word. He's right, and he knows it too.
"Do you love him?" he wants to know more serious, leaning forward on the table between you. You choke on your breath, chuckling to cover up the uneasy feeling that's suddenly cursing through you.
You still though, sighing, before your head falls into your hands, elbows propped on the table. Wiping over your face you look at Greef, who patiently waits for your answer.
"I do." you reply, feeling the goosebumps creep up your bare arms. He nods, suspicions confirmed. "You haven't seen his face, yet." he points out, cocking a brow.
"Don't need to." you respond, shaking your head. "He could be a Gungan for all you know." he remarks, though grinning as you send him a pointed look.
"He once told me about the mandalorian marriage, how he would be able to remove his helmet in front of his wife." you explain, looking down on the table as your cheeks flush.
"Hit you pretty hard, huh?" he asks with a smile, but before you can answer someone speaks up from behind you, causing you to flinch in your seat.
"What hit whom?" Din wants to know, and you refuse to turn around, stiffening, as your cheeks go even more red.
Greef clears his throat, chuckling. "Oh, nothing, mando." he replies. "Just talkin' 'bout old times."
You are thankful for the older man's explanation, sending him a grateful look. He nods almost unnoticeable, before you stand up.
"I'm gonna go look for something to do." you tell them, briefly looking at Din, before your gaze averts again. Grogu stands behind him, cooing up at you.
"Oh, could you take him with you?" Greef asks, pointing at Grogu. "I want to discuss something with Din, that's not for the child's ears."
Din nods in approval, as you look at him questioningly.
Smiling down at the child you scoop him into your arms, before you leave the room.
Din looks after you and the child, even after the door has already closed behind you again. Greef clears his throat, averting his attention back to him.
"You want to discuss something with me?" Din wants to know, taking a seat where you had been sitting only moments ago.
He'd be lying if he said he wants a job - it had only been a few days since you landed on Nevarro again and settled into the cabin Greef had prepared for you three.
After the fight on Mandalore he is glad to have a break from the constant fighting and traveling.
He could tell you are too, finally being able to catch more than just an hour or two of sleep. The child is happier as well, being able to play with the local kids.
Greef folds his hands on the table, looking at Din with a sigh. Unbeknownst to the magistrate, he rises a brow under his helmet, looking at him expectantly.
"Do you plan on staying?" Greef asks, looking straight at where he believes Din's eyes must be. Din tilts his head, not sure what his friend is getting at.
"Maybe, why?" he gives back warily, brows furrowing. Greef only nods, leaning back in his chair. "And what about her?" he questions further, eyes still fixed on the warrior in front of him. Din licks his lip, feeling his heart rate pick up at the mention of you.
He'd love for you to stay with him, but he'd never make a move on it. You were too precious to him, for him ruining you.
"What do you mean?" he wants to know, leather creaking quietly, as his hands flex in a nervous manner. Greef huffs, crossing his arms over his chest. "You know exactly what I mean, Din."
Din sighs, looking away. He in fact knows what the older man is hinting at, yet he tries to play dumb.
"I don't know what you mean."
Greef rolls his eyes, frustration seeping through, as he silently curses at the mandalorian. "Do you love her?" he asks him the same question he had asked you earlier.
Din's eyes widen under his helmet, as he believes he must have misheard him. "I have to go." he mutters, pushing himself out of the chair. "Do you love her?" Greef repeats louder, and Din stiffens, back turned towards him.
"'Cause if you do, you should tell her."
Din can't help but huff at his words, turning back around to him. "And why should I do that?" he demands to know, taking a step closer. "So she takes the first ship to another planet?"
"Because she loves you!" Greef responds angrily, standing from his chair. "Because she loves you and she asked me the same question earlier - Asked if you would stay, or if you'd leave her behind."
Din is taken aback by his words, body freezing.
His heart goes rigid in his chest, hands sweating, but he stays still. "She doesn't know me." he mutters, shaking his head. "She doesn't know your face." Greef responds. "There's a difference."
Din swallows, wiping his hands on his thighs, even though he wears gloves.
"She told me about the mandalorian marriage." Greef explains, licking his lip. "Said that you'd be able to take the helmet off in front of your wife."
Din winces, shaking his head again.
"She wouldn't want me." he insists, looking down. "Are you sure about that?" Greef responds, causing Din's heart to jump dangerously at the prospect. "She said she doesn't need to see your face to love you."
Din breathes in shakily, biting his lip, before his gaze meets his friends. Greef nods encouragingly, silently telling him to finally make a move on his feelings.
You are important to him, and he can tell that you are struggling with your feelings for Din. Pushing you two in the right direction is the least he could do for you.
Meanwhile, you are sitting with the child in between a group of kids. They had spotted you, asking if Grogu could play with them, and invited you to sit with them.
Din neares the group, already having spotted you due to the height difference - not because you seem to radiate under the sun, glowing like a goddess to him.
Of course not.
He stops behind you, taking a moment to watch the child jump on the numbers the kids had scribbled on the ground with chalk.
It looks like something out of a book, he notices. The peaceful and calm atmosphere seems strange to him.
Clearing his throat, he gets your attention, motioning for you to follow him with a tilt of his helmet. Asking the kids to look after Grogu, you stand up, following him.
He walks a few feet away, only stopping when no one's in earshot anymore.
"I'm thinking about staying." he begins, after a short silence. You nod, brows furrowing slightly. "How come?" you ask. He takes a moment longer to answer, gaze wandering behind you to the kids still playing with Grogu, before he looks back at you.
"Mandalore is still in reconstruction, and we will have to stay somewhere in the meantime." he explains, your heart picking up its pace at his choice of words. "We?" you ask, hope flaming up in your chest.
Would he stay with you, or let you stay with him, now that Mandalore is going to be rebuilt?
You had been spending time with the mandalorian for almost the whole while he was traveling with Grogu now, but never really had a place to stay at.
Except for Nevarro now.
"Grogu and I." he responds, and your heart cracks as he extinguishes the flame, before it had really become one.
Your face falls and you do your best not to let him notice, as you force yourself to smile, nodding with tears pricking in your eyes.
"Sure." you mumble, biting your lip, as you look down.
"And you if you want to."
You're heart stops at his words, gaze snapping back to his.
He swallows, heart racing in his chest. He's nervous, hands sweating in his gloves, as he tries to study your reaction.
"Really?" you want to know, fearing he'd take it back. But he nods, taking a step closer. "I talked to Greef." he admits, tilting his head.
You huff, now knowing why he came up with the topic in the first place.
"Of course, you have." you mumble, looking away from him. How much did Greef tell him? You should have known something was up, when he asked you to take the child with you.
He makes a sound like he wants to say something, but it gets stuck in his throat. "I like you." he then presses out, fists clenching at his sides.
He hates to talk about his feelings, never really having been good at it.
Your heart jumps, breath hitching in your throat as you look back at him. "I like you and I want you to stay with us." he adds, voice shaky even through the modulator.
You're not sure what exactly he means, goosebumps covering your arms at the prospect. "What do you mean you like me?" you ask, swallowing at the nerves bubbling up.
He sighs, helmet tilting downwards. "I mean that-" he sighs again in frustration, arms moving at his sides, as he seems to fight with himself, before he looks back up at you. "I mean that I have feelings for you, Y/N."
Your heart stutters in your chest, before it doubles its speed. Blinking rapidly, you try to process his words.
"I-I have feelings for you, too." you stutter, taking a step towards him. He inhales shakily, relief flooding him.
No matter what Greef had told him about your feelings for him, he still could have been wrong.
The relief momentarily blocks out the fear he's feeling, but it returns just as fast as it was gone.
"But I'm scared, cyar'ika." he voices, not giving you a chance to respond further, heart fluttering at the endearment. You had only heard it once before, and you were sure it meant something special.
"I don't want to bring you in harms way even further, because you'd be my weak spot."
You blush, still shocked at his confession.
"But the child is a weak spot, too." you remind him quietly, tilting your head as your brows furrow slightly.
"I don't want to end up like Paz." he whispers, voice cracking. "And another weak spot would only add to that possibility. When something happens to me you'd be left on your own. When something happens to you or the child-" he shakes his head, swallowing.
"I wouldn't know what to do."
You take another step closer, hand finding its way onto his arm, trying to comfort him. "Din, that won't happen." you assure him, trying to catch his gaze through the helmet.
"Paz had a son." he arguments, shaking his head at you. "His son lost his father." "He was a foundling." you retort, still feeling bad for the boy. "He'll learn to live without him, he still has a family: the other mandalorians."
Paz was a good man, he had sacrificed himself for his people, leaving behind his son.
"And what's with my wife, Grogu, kids of my own?" he questions. He's agitated, body trembling at the thought of disappointing you.
Your eyes widen at his words.
His wife, kids of his own.
He seems to notice what he said, a gasp leaving his lips, as his eyes widen as well. "I-I mean-" he stutters, panic creeping into his voice, but you smile at him.
"Din, you don't have to keep doing the dirty work for the rest of your life." you give back softly, silently hating that you can't see his eyes.
He snorts, taking a step back, so your hand falls from his arm. "And credits come flowing, sure."
Rolling your eyes, you shake your head. "We will find something that's less dangerous. Aside from that I'm sure Mandalore will have a place for us, a job. We'd manage."
"You're saying that like it would all be so easy for us." he gives back, shaking his head as well. You nod, licking your lip. "I know it's not always going to be easy, but I'm sure we'll manage." you repeat, closing the distance again.
He falls silent at that, only staring at you.
He can't seem to grasp why you were willing to spend your life with him - a mandalorian, someone who's made more enemies than he can possibly count.
"And now let's get back to the point where you told me you have feelings for me." you rasp out, taking your hand in his.
His hand tightens around yours, thumb brushing over your knuckles as he exhales shakily.
"Do you know how long I hoped for you to say those words?" you chuckle, smiling up at him. He huffs, shaking his head with a chuckle of his own.
"I was sure you wouldn't want me." he breathes out, licking his lip. You huff, smile widening. "You have no clue, Din." you tell him. "And even if I don't know what you look like yet, I'm sure I will love it as well. It's not only your face, Din. It's you - everything about you, the way you care for the ones you love and how you do everything to protect them. It's you I love, not only the face I have yet to see. And if I have to marry you to see your face, I can't wait."
He's stunned at your words, mouth agape even though you can't see it.
He's never heard such beautiful words directed at him before. Hearing them come out of your mouth, only makes them more beautiful.
"Ni kar'tayli gar darasuum." he mutters, his voice soft. You tilt your head at him, not sure what he said. "It's mando'a." he says, and you swear you hear him smile under his helmet. "It means I love you."
You inhale sharply, eyes widening, and he wonders if he took it too far. "It sounds so beautiful." you reply, smiling broadly at him. He sighs in relief, smile returning.
"Ni kartayl gar darasum." you try to repeat it and he laughs, lightly shoving you at the way you mispronounce the words.
"We'll practice that." he assures you chuckling, wrapping his arm around you, to lead you back to the kids.
"For now let's focus on marrying so you can finally see my face."
cyar'ika: sweetheart
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Your Ride, Best Trip
Summary: You sleep with your boyfriend Marcus for the first time
Word Count: 9,001
Pairing: Marcus Pike x f! afab! reader
Rating: 18+ Explicit
Warnings: 18+ mdni, first time, vaginal fingering, oral (m! and f! receiving), unprotected PIV, squirting, creampie, dirty talk, so much fluff, so much kissing
Betas: @for-a-longlongtime and @perotovar as ALWAYS. Love you homies I'm kissing u both <3
A/N: I have nothing to say for myself this time
Marcus Pike is perfect.Â
Heâs your dream man.Â
Heâs sweet. He brings you flowers just because, and heâs remembered your go-to coffee order, and he never goes to bed without texting you goodnight.
Heâs effortlessly kind. He offers to walk your dog for you when you arenât feeling well enough to get out of bed, and he always does the dishes when you cook for him, and he makes sure his bathroom is stocked with all the personal products you use at your own place.Â
Heâs fucking handsome. His smile is straight and pearly white, and his big brown eyes warm you up, and the way his broad shoulders fill out those suits he wears to work never fails to make you weak in the knees.Â
Heâs so smart, and heâs so funny, and heâs all yours⌠finally.Â
See, when he hadnât so much as kissed you by your third date, you wigged out a bit.Â
How could you not? Heâd been so thoughtful and caring and all you wanted was to feel those pillowy, soft lips against your own.Â
So you asked him what was up, and he told you.
Divorced. Broken engagement. A whole year of therapy to pinpoint what went wrong, what he could change, and how he could do better, how he could feel better. And then, he said, he found youâ like fateâ when he wasnât even looking, when he least expected it.Â
You had no problem taking it slow. Youâre still convinced youâd wait forever for him, as perfect as he is.
After too many little dates to count, he told you he wanted to be your boyfriend, if youâd have him.
You told him youâd love for him to be your boyfriend, of course. Youâd be crazy not too.Â
And then he finally kissed you.
It was slow and hesitant, but it still made your heart race, made your stomach do flips. He cut it off before it could become anything more than chaste, and left your front door with a sheepish goodnight.Â
Youâve kissed a lot since then. You never really enjoyed kissing that much, before. It always just seemed like a means to and end, a formality before moving on to other things.Â
But now itâs one of your favorite ways to pass the time with him. Waiting for an Uber to take you downtown, finally getting to his place on Friday after a long work week, cuddling in bed together with an old movie playing.
You havenât made out with anyone this much since high school. And you enjoy it, you do, but Jesus Christ, heâs been your boyfriend for three weeks now and you need him.Â
It doesnât help that he touches you like youâre the last person on earth. His hands are so big and theyâre gentle and electric when they find the bit of skin just under the hem of your shirt.Â
You think itâs going to happen, this time. Friday night takeout has long been abandoned in the living room. Youâre in his bed, in his clothes, and his pinky is teasing at the waistband of his sweats that youâre wearing.Â
His tongue in your mouth is making you dizzy, and thereâs no more blood in your brain with all of it rushing between your legs. You whimper, and you arch against him, and you want him so bad but you canât say it. Youâd feel bad, making him rush when heâs made it clear he wants to take things slow.Â
When his lips leave yours, you open your eyes, and find his pupils obstructing all the deep, dark brown you adore.Â
You have to squeeze your thighs together for a miniscule amount of relief. He notices. Of course he does. Damn that Quantico training.Â
âSweetheartââ
His eyes flicker down to your lips. Youâre sure they look obscene, red and slick from nearly an hour of him sucking and nibbling on them.Â
âIâm sorry,â you whisper.Â
You donât know why you say it, but you are sorry. You feel so bad for wanting him like this, desperate and aching in his bed, over eager.Â
âDonât be,â he shakes his head and gives you a reluctant smile, a smile that tells you youâre going to fall asleep extremely sexually frustrated.Â
But itâs fine. Heâs so worth it.Â
You give him a soft smile back, and lean in to peck his lips. But he pulls away with his brow furrowed.Â
âWhat do you want?âÂ
His voice is gentle when he asks. So is his hand on your back, under his shirt youâve claimed. But it doesnât stop that fight or flight response from kicking in.Â
âNothing! Nothing, Marcus, Iâm okayâ Iâm great. Just wanna cuddle.âÂ
But the creases in his forehead donât smooth out, and his hand ceases the soothing circles across your spine.Â
âYouâre lying.âÂ
You sigh and close your eyes.Â
âIâm not lying, Iâm justâ I donât want to push you to move too fast.âÂ
You expect him to be angry. But when you open your eyes again, his own have taken on that puppy-like quality you usually love. Right now, it just makes you feel guilty.Â
âIâve been lying, too,â Marcus whispers.Â
Itâs your turn to scrunch your face up. Your blood runs cold, waiting for him to elaborate. A million scenarios run through your head at lighting speedâ all worse and worse until your breathing picks up and you beg him with your eyes to just get on with itâ
âI have a small dick.âÂ
His face is so flushed. He canât meet your gaze.
Heâs staring at the bedsheets between you, and youâre both just silent for a long, awkward moment.Â
âI meanâ the divorce and all that, itâs all true. And I did want to keep from moving too fast. Butâ the last few weeks I guess Iâve just been⌠stalling?âÂ
He finally looks up from the threads to gauge your reaction.Â
âMarcusâŚâ
âI get it, okay? If you wanna go. I know I lied, and you didnât sign up forââ
âMarcus.â
You watch his shoulders raise and his mouth snap shut, and he looks terrified.
âI donât want to leave. You didnât lie. Itâs justâ you really think that would bother me?âÂ
He lets out a big breath, and the tension in his body eases up a little.Â
âI donât know. Most people were⌠bothered. I guess,â he shrugs.Â
You cradle his jaw in your hand, let the day-old stubble tickle the pad of your thumb as you think about how to best navigate this conversation.Â
Because saying âI donât careâ seems too dismissive. But you donât. You couldnât possibly care less about whatâs in his pants, when everything else about him has made you fall so, so deep already. But you donât want to make it sound like itâs something you have to even bargain with, like the pros outweigh the cons, like it even is a con. Because itâs not.Â
âIâm not bothered,â you finally tell him.Â
He still doesnât meet your eyes, in fact, he rolls his.Â
âYou donât have to lie to me. Itâs okay, Iâve heard it all. I know Iâve lead you onââ
âJesus,â you cut him off, âwhat didâ who made you feel this way?âÂ
He finally looks at you. His eyes are wide and he looks vulnerable and hesitant. You swipe away some hair thatâs fallen flat across his scrunched forehead.Â
âEveryone?âÂ
You sigh his name, and youâre tentative when you lean forward to kiss him, softly, when he lets you.Â
He looks less terrified when you pull back. You try to smile, but this whole interaction has left such a bad taste in your mouth that it feels more like a grimace when your lips turn up.Â
âThatâsâ Fucking awful, to be frank. Pardon my French.â
He chuckles, but his gaze falls away from your face again. His sheets are not that interesting to look at.Â
âReally, Marcus. I meanâ maybe if someoneâs just looking for a hookup, then I get it. You want something specific, whatever. But why would you ever think you were leading me on?
All youâve done is be sweet to me, and shown interest in me, and taken care of me. Unless youâre like, secretly an ax murderer, or committing some kind of major tax fraud, you havenât led me on at all.â
Heâs still not looking at you. Why wonât he look at you, and believe you?Â
âI donât want to sound dismissive. I understand youâre insecure about it. Iâm insecure about some things too. I donât want to invalidate that. But I need you to know that the last thing I care about is how big your dick is.âÂ
There. Heâs looking at you. He looks a little mortified, but heâs finally meeting your gaze.Â
âReally?â
You scoff.Â
âReally really.â
A reluctant smile tugs on the corner of his pretty mouth.Â
âWhy?â
âBecauseâ now, donât go getting a big head about thisâ youâre perfect. Like, everything about you. Youâre sweet and you make me laugh and youâre gorgeous.â
His face flushes, but he lets you continue.
âAnd Iâm in this, with you. I want this to go somewhere. And I think weâre super compatible.â
âMe too,â he whispers.
âGood, so⌠weâre on the same page then.â
You watch him lick his lips, and his hand thatâs been loosely draped over your waist finally starts back up, drawing little circles across the base of your spine.Â
âAnd⌠Thereâs other reasons,â you mumble, voice low with a hint of mischief.
âOh yeah?âÂ
âYeah⌠For one, your hands.â
âMy hands?â
He emphasizes his question with a squeeze of your hip, and you giggle at the way it tickles, and also with a bit of embarrassment.Â
âYeah⌠Theyâre uh⌠big. I look at them a lot. Honestly surprised you havenât noticed.â
He huffs, lets his big hand travel further up the shirt on your back.Â
âYour nails are always trimmed, andâ your fingers are long and thick. Iâve thought about them a lot.â
He breathes your name, and now you realize youâre the one avoiding eye contact. When you look back, his pupils are all blown out again, and it spurs you on.
âAnd I love to give head.â
âJesus.â
âAnd the bigger it is, the quicker I get tired. I could stay down there all night, if my jaw didnât get sore.âÂ
âSweetheartââ
âReally, itâs one of my favorite things, making someone fall apart under my mouth. But I hate gagging and choking my way through it. Itâs tedious.â
He says your name again, this time with a warning tone.Â
You bite your lip to keep anything from tumbling from your mouth unwarranted.Â
âYouâre not lying.â
His eyes dart back and forth across your face, and you shake your head in lieu of opening your mouth again.Â
âFuck.â
Itâs the first time Marcus has cursed in front of you. Your eyebrows shoot up in surprise, and your clit throbs.Â
âIâve thought about you so much. Your lips, you have to know, right? How plump and full they are⌠I think about them at night, when Iâm touching myself.âÂ
Thatâs convincing enough, apparently. Before you can embarrass yourself any further with your confessions, he surges forward to press those plush lips against yours and groans into your mouth.Â
His hand flattens against your back and pulls, manhandling you closer to him. Your fingers find his silky hair and tangle in the strands, holding on for dear life at this shift between the two of you.Â
You canât muster up an ounce of shame. Finally, you have Marcus where you want him, pressed against you. You hike a leg over one of his, getting it between your thighs for even the smallest amount of friction.Â
You feel him gasp, chest inflating to press even closer against yours. Itâs a rush, finally getting this after waiting so long.Â
Your hands scramble to get under his white t-shirt. His skin is hot, even against your sweaty palms. Thereâs so much to feel, the slight swell of his stomach, and the muscle of his flank, the soft but firm pecs.Â
You whine when he pulls away from your lips. He shushes you gently, and you open your eyes to watch his slick lips and his hooded eyes and flushed face disappear briefly, just quick enough to shed his shirt.Â
Smooth, is the first thing that comes to mind. His tan skin has no hair above his belly button, just the errant freckle here and there. His nipples are peaked, and you reach out to press your thumb against one before your mind catches up to the action, before you realize youâre gawking.Â
But when your hand stutters against his skin and you look up at him, heâs smirking, amused and turned on. You falter a bit, mouth open while you search for something to say, some sort of excuse as to why youâre devouring him like youâre starved.Â
He saves you though, with his low, grumbled voice.Â
âI think about you, too. All the time.âÂ
You dig your nails into his soft skin at his admission, scraping against his chest.Â
âYou know that? You think I havenât had you a million different ways in my head?âÂ
Your heart stops beating, and you stop breathing, and the heat between your legs only gets heavier and wetter.Â
âYou want me to show you, sweetheart?â
Your heartbeat comes back as a rush in your ears, and you squeeze the meat of his pec as you nod.Â
He kisses you again, licks at your lips until you suck his tongue into your mouth, and now itâs just filthy. No more pretense, itâs been months of pretense, and neither of you have any more patience.Â
His fingers seek out your own nipple, a tight bud protruding through cloth, and he rolls it between his fingers gently over the material of his shirt.Â
âYou come over and wear my clothes like this, and you think you donât drive me crazy?âÂ
The words are grumbled into your mouth, against your cheek, then your jaw and your neck as he seeks out more of you to kiss.Â
âI donât wash them when you leave. I wear them and I smell you all day and it makes me feel insane.â
You mewl at his admission. Everything he says now is so fucking raw, now that youâve broken down his walls. He shushes you again, grabs the hem of his shirt to help you pull it over your head.Â
He curses when he sees you. Itâs the first time. Youâve both been toeing this line of modesty, and maybe youâd be more nervous if you werenât careening toward the pleasure heâs promised you.Â
He coaxes you to lie on your back beside him, and his mouth works a slow trail down the side of your neck, nipping and suckling until he finally gets your nipple in his mouth. You arch into it, encouraging him with a hand tangled in his thick hair. You feel his groan reverberating around your rib cage when you scrape your nails back and forth across his scalp. You need him, like nothing youâve ever craved before.Â
âMarcusââ
âI know, I know.â
His syrupy voice isnât as soothing as his lips, though, when he cranes his neck back up to kiss you again. He nips there, a sneaky distraction from the way his fingers trail down to circle your navel, and then even farther, teasing the hem of his sweatpants youâre wearing. His featherlight touch makes you jolt when it finally registers, your stomach jumping under his fingers.Â
âCan I?â
Youâre nodding against his lips, into the kiss, and then whining when his hand breaches the waistband. Those thick, long fingers flutter across your mound. Your breath catches on every wiggle. But when his fingers splay out, half on one side of your slit and half on the other, teasing your lips, you exhale hard and press up into his touch.Â
âOh, are you that sensitive?â
His voice is half-teasing, half-shocked, as he mumbles into the tingling skin of your neck.Â
âItâs just you.âÂ
And itâs true. Thereâs no ego-stroking here. Youâve waited too long to get this and now youâre fiending, any touch is a relief.Â
And heâs huffing into that skin under your ear, like youâre playing it up too much, but he bites down on the skin anyway and groans.Â
âSo sweet, huh?â
You make a disgruntled noise but thereâs not enough blood in your brain to get your point across. Instead, you wrap your hand around his meaty forearm and force his fingers lower, where you know your underwear is a soaking, sticky mess.Â
He curses and pulls away from his assault on your neck to look at you. Youâre certain you know what he sees, blown out pupils and sweat-slick forehead and bitten, shiny lips.Â
âThatâs all for me?âÂ
Thereâs a sly smile tugging at one side of his mouth, just barely there, but you see it in the way one dimple grows more than the other. You nod in answer, scrape your nails up the hair on his arm and watch him shudder.
But he retreats from between your legs, and chuckles when you squeeze his forearm tighter in protest. The sound makes you shiver, all low and gruff and teasing. But he softens the blow with another one of his kisses, heated and sloppy and needy. His hands, always so gentle and careful and big, find the creases between your hips and thighs. It makes you arch up into the touch and whimper again, and you wonder briefly if youâll ever not be desperate for him again.Â
He watches your face twist up when he pulls away from you, watches the way your breasts move with every heave of your lungs. His dark eyes travel lower, where his thumbs sear circles into your hips, and his tongue swipes across his lower lip.Â
âCan I take these off, sweetheart?âÂ
The tenderness in his voice fills you with a completely different warmth, white hot flames simmering into a blaze of feelings you arenât sure youâve ever truly experienced before. You let it consume you.Â
âYes, please.â
He hums a satisfied little noise as his fingers hook under the waistband. He takes his time, making sure to catch your underwear as well. Itâs a sight, his huge hands working your only remaining cover down, down, until youâre bare to him and heâs gently cradling each of your calves to fully remove the last of your clothes.Â
Those hands work their way back up, attentive, memorizing the valleys and peaks of your flesh, the nuances of your skin, the way it bends over your joints. Before you know it, heâs propped himself up beside you once again, one arm supporting his weight so his other hand can work its way between your thighs.Â
You drag your eyes away from his fingers to look at him, only to find him focused on your face.Â
Itâs a few long moments before either of you move or speak or breathe. Itâs you who breaks the spell, only because you know youâre at the very edge of control.Â
âYou sure youâre ready?â
You reach up to cradle his neck in your hand. Itâs hot to the touch, and so are his ears, the tips of them burning a cute pink where your thumb grazes them. His eyes get softer and crinkle even more around the edges.
âIâm positive⌠canât believe I psyched myself out for so long.â
He huffs and shakes his head at himself. Youâre ready to kiss that apprehension away again, but his hand on your thigh pulls, as gentle as everything else heâs done, to spread yourself open for him.Â
The cool air makes your breath catch in your throat. Or maybe itâs the anticipation. So close to what youâve thought about every single night for weeks. Monthsâ since the day you first met, if youâre being honest.Â
He keeps his eyes on you, and you hold his gaze even though it burns. But only until his fingers brush you. Your eyelids flutter shut at the feeling, mouth open wide in shock at how electric just one simple touch feels.Â
His finger glides so easily around your opening, and you hear him gasp as he explores all the slick.
âYouâre soaked.âÂ
His voice is thick with awe, as another finger joins in on the fun, gathering up your arousal. But they donât breach, and you feel like heâs teasing, readying a whine in protest.Â
The noise gets stuck in your throat when they trail up, gliding through your swollen folds. They find your clit, full and begging for attention, and circle with hardly any pressure.Â
Oh, heâs fucking good at this.Â
Thereâs no apprehension in his movements. Itâs like heâs read a fucking manual on how to press all your buttons. The light, slick touches are building up that heat in your gut quicker than you can ever remember with anyone else.Â
Youâre stunned silent, eyes pinched shut and your head tilted back into the mattress, digging in for even an ounce of grounding.Â
âThat feel good, sweetheart?â
Your vocal chords come back to life, finally, as you whimper from the gentle drag of his fingers.Â
âYou have no idea.â
He chuckles, and you open your eyes to see his own still trained on your face.Â
âI think I do,â he mumbles.
He shifts, presses his hips into you, and the hard line of him digs into your side.Â
You clench around nothing, and your clit pulses under the pads of his fingers. He curses and responds to the needy little bud, applying more pressure and speeding up those little circles.Â
All the while he grinds his hips into you, soft little movements that sync up with his hand, and you want him so bad. Youâre losing patience by the second, the only thing keeping you from pouncing is the way his fingers work you over so perfectly itâs like youâre touching yourself.Â
Youâre not, though, and that becomes perfectly clear when one thick, long finger presses lower and slips into you. It slides so easily, despite how much girth it has on one of your own. You both make stuttered noises at the feeling, and Marcusâ lips capture your own to let them mingle together.Â
Your hips egg him on, lifting and shifting, but he is teasing now. Itâs a slow drag in and out, his finger pin straight, and if he hadnât been so diligent this entire time youâd think he didnât know what he was doing.Â
But you whine, a soft plea of his name into his mouth, and he obliges. That thick finger crooks up, just as the heel of his hand flattens against your clit, and stars bloom behind your eyelids.Â
You groan, and he laps it up before his lips leave yours.Â
âThatâs it. This what you needed?â
A pathetic whimper comes out in response as you nod your head. His finger presses harder into that perfect spot, and his palm slides over your wet clit. Youâre clenching around him, savoring the feeling of being filled by him, working your hips down and back to meet his motions. It grows and grows, that feeling in your gut, so close that you canât be bothered to worry about what needy noises youâre making.
He mutters another frantic curse, and his hips jump to press his cock into you harder.Â
âI gotta taste you, sweetheart. Can I? Will you let me?âÂ
You nod so fast youâre surprised your head doesnât detach from your neck. He soothes that frenzied part of your brain with another kiss, slips his finger out of you, and moves to get between your legs.Â
You thread your fingers through his hair to keep him still, even if itâs just for a moment. Your legs instinctively wrap around his waist, and the drag of his sweatpants across your sensitive center makes you arch up into him for more, to seek out more friction.Â
He just huffs a laugh against your lips and angles his hips away, denying you the simple pleasure of grinding against the tent in his pants.Â
âNot yet. Let me take my time with you. Youâve waited so long, right? Iâll make it up to you, you just gotta let me.âÂ
You huff.Â
You shouldâve known Marcus would be just as much of an infuriating tease in the bedroom as he is outside of it. The trivia dates and the cocky smirk he always sported when he won, the little bets heâd make on how a movieâs plot was going to twist, the refusal to ever let you pay for dinnerâ itâs all adding up now, and you canât believe you didnât expect it.Â
Marcus Pike is a smug little prick underneath the humble, sheepish grins, and itâs hot and itâs yours.Â
âPut your money where your mouth is,â you breathe.Â
He chuckles and trails said mouth down the length of your naked body. You watch his plump lips explore your skin and leave wet patches littered in their wake, shiny little stakes claiming you. His five oâclock shadow is just long enough to abrade your skin a bit, delightful little pricks that make your muscles jump involuntarily.
He makes it to your mound before looking up at you. His brown eyes are mostly obstructed by his pupils, but they shine all glassy in the dim lamplight of his bedroom. His shitty grin has faded and he looks determined, and it steals the breath from your lungs.Â
He teases some more, of course he does. His lips peck and tickle the creases of your thighs, the skin of your outer lips, and the very tip of your hood before you finally see his pink tongue slip out.Â
All of a sudden you canât watch, can only let your head fall back and close your eyes and drown in the anticipation.Â
The pointed tip of his tongue just barely grazes you, tracing a razor-thin line from your dripping hole all the way to your mound. It tickles, and your breath comes in faster as he does it again, and again, and again.Â
Just before you can beg for more, he flattens his tongue and drags it up your slit. He laps at your folds, slow and calculated, and the satisfied noises tumble out of you as you feel his taste buds glide against you.Â
All you can think to do is find his hair and use it to hang on. Your legs spread wider, and he takes the encouragement. His tongue finds your clit, so swollen and sensitive with need by now. He circles it, then wiggles his tongue back and forth, playing with it, playing with you. He shakes his head from side to side to give you more, presses even more firmly, and the heavy feeling in your gut tightens tenfold.Â
Your hips start to move on their own, rocking up into his face, helping his motions along. He groans with it, muffled and wet between your legs.Â
A delirious thought gets stuck in your horny brain. You donât know how youâll ever let him leave this spot between your legs now that youâve finally got him here. Itâs so wet and warm and incredible, and your nails dig into his scalp to drive the point home, to try and lock him here forever.Â
His voice snaps you from your reverent thoughts, thick and deep.Â
âFuck, sweetheart. You taste so good, looks so fucking pretty.âÂ
You brave a glance down at him, his red soaked mouth and his dark eyes that are boring holes into your pussy. One of his hands releases its grip on your thigh to glide across the dripping mess of your center. He toys with you, spreading you open with splayed fingers, watching the way your folds bend to his whim. With it exposed and protruding and aching for his touch, he leans down to wrap his plush lips around your clit and suckle. Curses fly from your lips at the concentrated attention, and itâs so so so fucking good youâre sure youâre going combust.Â
His hand slips lower, and his mouth doesnât stop, and youâre dangerously close to tipping over the edge. And then two thick fingers slip easily into you, immediately seeking out that spot inside you and tapping there.Â
Itâs blinding pressure overwhelming the two places you need him most. He drums up a rhythm that would remind you of a dance, maybe, if your brain were cognitive enough to form a coherent thought. Down with his head, engulfing your clit, and up with his fingers, squeezing that spongy spot inside you. Over and over, he works you with soft grunts against your cunt until your fingers lock up in his hair and your hips start to shake.Â
âPlease donât stop,â you pant, âIâm so close.âÂ
To his credit, and this is more than you can say for the majority of men youâve been with, he doesnât stop. He doesnât slow down, nor does he speed up. He keeps at you exactly how you need it, moaning strung-out little noises into your center until youâre dropping.Â
All the wind is knocked out of you. Your hips jolt into his face and he takes it in stride, lapping at your clit when the seal of his lips is broken from your erratic movements. You tremble through it, clench around his fingers, and squeeze his head between your thighs as you ride it out on his tongue.Â
As the shivers roll through you, Marcusâ fingers slow, and though he canât remove his tongue from you because of how your legs have him in a headlock, he stills his tongue so you can take the last bit of what you need from him.Â
His breathing is just as heavy as yours, wheezing out moans and muffled words of encouragement. When you feel yourself slipping down from your peak, you let go of the death grip on his hair, and open your legs, and grant yourself a few deep breaths before you dare to look down at him.Â
He carefully, cautiously pulls his fingers out of you. A comforting âshhhâ is cooed into the sweaty skin of your thigh when you make a strangled sound. Both of his hands splay out on either hip, a light and grounding touch accompanied by the kisses heâs dropping all over the skin he can reach.Â
Finally, you grant yourself a peek down at him. The first thing you notice is how his broad shoulders are, heaving with baited breath. Then, his normally pristine hair, sticking out every which way and then some from your frantic fingers.Â
His face is red, you guess from exertion. Or maybe you really did restrict some blood flow. Christ. Thatâs what he gets, being so goddamn good at that.Â
And then his lips. His lips. Those lips that up until now youâve only ever kissed or dreamed of. Theyâre even more plump, swollen and slick with you, shining just like his chin is.Â
You donât know what to say. You know you want to kiss him. Funny, considering thatâs how all this started, but youâre dying to see what you taste like on him.Â
Luckily, he breaks the silence, after licking those delectable lips and clearing his throat.Â
âSo⌠Howâd it compare?âÂ
Your face contorts on its own, surprised at the sudden and intrusive question.Â
âPardon?â
But then he laughs, pressing those wet dimples into your heated skin to hide them.Â
âTo all those thoughts you told me about. Howâd I do?âÂ
You laugh too then, a weary huff of breath as you sit up.Â
âDonât go fishing for compliments,â you tease, though thereâs not much heat behind it with how out of breath you still are.Â
He goes to respond, but you get a hand in his hair again and coax him up. You meet him halfway, swallowing his surprised noise when you finally get those pillowy lips against yours and lick at them, his tongue, his teeth, until you arenât sure what taste is you and what is him. Until you realize youâre flat on your back again as he hovers over you, still between your thighs.Â
You both hum when the kiss breaks, and you rest your forehead against his, nuzzle his nose and sigh at the floaty feeling in your limbs.Â
âBetter,â you whisper.Â
You feel his grin bump into your own. You nip at it, playful and languid as you finally begin to get some of your bearings back.Â
And then youâre shocked back into the realization that thereâs all this smooth skin right in front of you, this hunk of a man hovering above, the one who just melted your brain into a fuzzy little mold of itself. You grab his hips as he licks into your mouth and scrape your nails up his flanks, unhurried, while the touch makes him shiver.Â
You feel out the strength in his pecs, those broad shoulders you often daydream about, and then you push. Catching him off guard, he gasps as he loses his balance and tumbles to the side, and then laughs when you press him into the mattress and straddle his hips.Â
You laugh along with him, but it slowly tapers off as his hands find your naked skinâ your stomach and hips and back and then your ass, where it hovers just above that bulge in his sweatpants.Â
Heâs looking up at you with what you can only describe as horny apprehension.Â
His eyelids droop over his dilated pupils, but his brow is all pinched up in the middle. His mouth hangs open, like he wants to say something, but nothing comes out.Â
So you kiss him, soft and gentle, as gentle as heâs been with you all night. His sigh washes heat across your cheeks, and you feel him relax under you just a little.Â
But then you shift in his grasp, lower your ass, and press your soaking center to his crotch. You whimper at the feeling of his sweatpants dragging across your sensitive, wet cunt. He moans and bites at your bottom lip maybe a little too hard.Â
But itâs okay. He pulls away and pants your name and you settle there, your weight pressed down on his cock. Your lips find that smooth patch in his stubble, biting that chiseled jaw, licking down the curve of his neck, his shoulder, up to his ear. You delight in every goosebump you draw, and breathe in his scent before you speak up.Â
âWill you let me suck it?âÂ
All his breath rushes out in a big gust. His fingertips dig into your naked sides, and he nods.Â
âPlease.âÂ
Itâs a barely-there whisper. You pull away from that silky soft skin where his pulse is hammering to check his reaction.Â
Heâs begging with his eyes. It makes you smirk, sitting up straighter, trailing your fingers down the front of his body until you reach the drawstring of his sweatpants.Â
Youâre still sitting on his groin, though. You give a little playful wiggle, and his hips rock up to grind harder. But you donât want to tease any more. Every moment spent teasing him, youâre also denying yourself, and youâve been patient for long enough.Â
So you shift down the bed, nestled between his legs, and get to work on the tie of his pants. Every time your fingertips brush the hair below his belly button, he sucks in a breath. You finally get the thing untied, and look up one last time for permission before you start to drag the material down, grabbing his boxers as you go.Â
Your eyes stay trained on his face instead of staring at his crotch, especially as he wiggles a bit and lifts his legs to remove his pants. You donât want to stare, and you also donât want to not look, you donât want him to be uncomfortable at all with you.Â
You want it to be perfect. You want to make him feel the way he makes you feel.Â
He nods his head, and you cease averting your eyes to trail down his body, the bushy happy trail and the neatly trimmed hair above his cock and his cock.Â
His little cock.Â
It is, indeed, on the smaller side. Probably one of the smallest youâve seen in real life. Three and half or four inches long, if you had to guess.Â
And itâs so pretty, cut and on the thicker side, the slightest upward curve that makes your pussy tighten around nothing.Â
You dive right in, press your nose to all the hair while you kiss at the base of him, humming when his cock twitches against the side of your face. He smells so good and clean, like always, but down here thereâs even more of that Marcus smell that always lingers beneath his soap and cologne, salty and warm.
When you drag your eyes up to him, his headâs thrown back against the pillows, not looking at you. You want him to look, you want him to see how much youâre going to enjoy this.Â
Youâll make him look, one way or another.Â
For now, you just lathe your tongue up the underside of him, then back down to tickle his balls, all the while enjoying how his prick jerks under the attention.Â
Heâs making little noises, mostly puffs of breath and gasps, and his hands twist up in the sheets beside you. You grab one of them, slow and steady, and lead it to the back of your head.Â
And then, you finally get your lips wrapped around the head of his dick, and you slowly sink down until heâs entirely in your mouth.Â
Itâs not until your nose presses against the flatness above his cock do you hear him release a strangled groan. Thatâs when you look back up at him and find him staring down, mouth agape, locked on your mouthful of him.Â
You pull back up, wiggling your tongue as you go, memorizing the ridges and hairs and veins. Your eyes are locked on his, and his are locked on your lips, so you try to give him a show.Â
You open your mouth and stick out your tongue, nod your head up and down to let his cockhead tickle your tastebuds. A gruff noise leaves him, hearty and hoarse, and you want to smile but youâre not in a position to.Â
Instead, you flick your tongue against that little band of tissue just under his slit, and his hips stutter as his grip on the back of your head tightens.Â
âFuck, sweetheart.â
Now you do smile, your lips upturned against the head of his cock, and it jerks against your mouth while you kiss it, until you envelop it once more.Â
You hum around him, at the weighted feeling of him occupying your mouth, how smooth it feels against your tongue and how nice it is to take him all the way in and not gag or choke or drool.Â
It makes your cunt ache, makes you crave him even more, makes you want to be full of him everywhere.Â
You reach a hand down to touch yourself. Youâre still dripping, can feel it all slipping from your entrance and cooling your skin in the air conditioning. Youâve had just enough time to recover from the mess Marcus made of you. Youâre sensitive but not too sensitive, when you trace your clit with your fingertips and moan around the mouthful of cock.Â
âOh fuck, are you touching yourself?â
Your eyes flicker open and look up to him. Heâs clenching his jaw, grinding his teeth as his nostrils flare. You hum and nod your head to answer, his cock slipping back and forth through the ring of your lips. He whimpers, and his head tips back against the mattress again, and it makes you speed up the efforts on both him and yourself.Â
He curses, soft little chants, kneading the back of your neck in his big hand as you suck him in over and over. You close your eyes and lose yourself in it for a bit, the way he slips so easily in and out, the way his hips move just a little, like heâs trying not to but he canât help it. The sounds, his grunts and your sloppy mouth and your fingers working over your slick folds.Â
He says your name.Â
You hum, use your free hand to play with the fuzzy skin of his balls.Â
He says your name again, and this time itâs urgent, almost panicked.Â
âSweetheart, stop, please.â
You do, immediately. You open your mouth wide and let him fall from your lips and unhand him while you look at his exerted face.Â
âAre you okay?â
He huffs, and his cock bobs beside your face.Â
âIâm so okay. I justâ did you want me toâŚ? Itâs okay if you donât, I just didnât want it to be overââ
âMarcus.âÂ
His heated babbling stops as he clamps his mouth shut. His broad shoulders lift and drop with his heading breath.
âDo you want to fuck me?âÂ
You smooth your hands across the scattered hair on his thighs when you ask. His prick twitches again at your question.Â
âIâ Yeah. Yes. I do.â
He looks almost guilty about it, with his wide eyes and the bashful expression spreading across his face.Â
âI want you to fuck me so bad,â you tell him, âIâve wanted it for way too long.â
His breath leaves him in a shuddery exhale, something like relief or awe.Â
âYeah? You still want it?âÂ
His hand skates from the back of your neck to your jaw, his thumb brushing the apple of your cheek.Â
âPlease, Marcus. Give it to me.âÂ
You turn your head to kiss his thumb, a sloppy little peck before you take it into your mouth. You smile around it when he groans, and bite it before it slips away.Â
âCan you get on the edge of the bed for me?âÂ
You can, but not without throwing a cheeky âyes sirâ his way. Youâre not sure if the noise he makes is from arousal or a lack of amusement, but there will be plenty of time to explore that later.Â
For now, you do as he says. You scoot so your ass is just about to fall off the side of his bed. The wooden bed frame is the perfect height to rest your heels on, and as Marcus slips a pillow under your head, youâre as comfortable as ever.
The mattress dips when he gets up to stand in front of you. The lamplight from the nightstand is really doing things for him. The slight sheen of sweat on his chest glistens, as does the wetness at his temples where his hair is starting to curl up. All those lean muscles have never been more apparent than they are now, the golden glow creating beautiful shadows across his naked body.Â
Heâs so hot.Â
It doesnât help that his big, warm hands snake up your bare thighs as he gets between them. His small dick stands at attention, pointing toward the ceiling, and you feel your pussy spasm with anticipation.Â
âPlease,â you whisper.Â
He nods, steps closer as you spread your legs wider and wiggle even further off the bed.Â
âPerfect, sweetheart.â
He leans over you with one hand on the bed to brace himself. The other is wrapped firmly around the base of his cock, and he looks down to watch it as he glides it through your slit.Â
âAre you ready?â
You nod and hum your affirmative. He takes the go-ahead and his cockhead slides across your clit, down, so slowly, until it catches on the rim of your hole and you both gasp at the feeling.Â
You look down to watch too, lifting up on your elbows to see the moment your pussy lets him sink inside, fluttering around him, engulfing his prick one inch at a time.Â
You knew it. You fucking knew his cock was perfect but still youâre shocked at the way the curve makes him drag across your upper wall. And when his hips are flush with yours, all that pressure is concentrated at that bundle of nerve endings inside of you, and youâre going to lose your mind if he doesnât move.
âOh fuck.â
You let yourself flop back in the bed, but reach for his hand thatâs supporting his weight. Your nails scrabble for purchase against the skin of his wrist as you curse again, your walls contracting around him as you tense.Â
âFuck, Marcus, please.â
Youâre so far past caring about how desperate you sound. You need him, the textbook definition of it; itâs an absolute necessity that he fucks you.Â
He curses, and you realize youâve closed your eyes. When you open them, his jaw is hanging and heâs looking at you, your face, like itâs something heâs never seen before. Like heâs shocked youâre here in front of him.Â
But his hips are still, and youâre helpless to the way your own cant up to urge him, and finally heâs pulling back out. The slow drag against the most tender spot inside you rips a noise from your throat, involuntary. He pulls almost all the way out, until the head of his dick is kissing your opening and you can feel how he stretches the tight ring of muscles.Â
And then in again, almost as slowly, and youâre already out of breath. The feeling steals all the wind from your lungs. Itâs setting you on fire, perfect friction against just the right spot, the one thatâs still tender and alight from your previous orgasm.Â
âItâs so fucking good,â you manage to choke out.Â
Marcus moans above you, and his hips snap into you, and his free hand finds your waist so he can dig his nails into your flesh.Â
âIt is, fuck, sweetheart, youâre so fucking good.â
A bead of sweat drips from his nose and lands on your belly, and that seems to make you snap out of it.Â
âFuck me. Fuck me hard, please, make me come.â
You watch his mouth quirk up into a pretty smirk, dimples on full display.Â
âYes maâam.â
Your giggles only last for a moment, dissolving into a high whine when he slides out of you and back in, a harsh thrust of his hips that doesnât let up.Â
He fucks you. You try to watch; itâs too hot not to. His biceps flex respectively, one with his effort to hold himself above you, and the other where he holds you in place by your waist.Â
His neck, the one vein there thatâs protruding as he bares his teeth. The way his chest is rapidly rising and falling as he drives into you. His big brown eyes, even darker now as he succumbs to the feeling of you.Â
But you just canât keep your eyes open for long. It feels too good, youâre too close to the edge. Your insides are so tender and alight from the first time you came. Every single thrust inside you is taking you apart and building your second so quickly. Your eyelids droop closed and thereâs already stars blooming behind them.Â
His little noises are louder, like this. Grunts and gasps and moans, falling over you, all for you.Â
âFuck, Iâm so close,â you warn him.
Your back arches to encourage his pace. His skin slaps into yours faster as he groans.
âThank god, me too. What do you need, sweetheart?âÂ
Without a verbal answer to his strained question, you slip your hand down to press against your throbbing clit.Â
âShit, yeah, play with your pussy for me. I wannaâ fuckâ let me see you come. Looks so gorgeous.â
His voice is thick in his throat, and you work your fingers over yourself faster. Youâre clenching wildly around him, you canât help it. Every thrust in sets your nerves on fire, almost too much, but not quite. His grunts are turning into growls, uninhibited and primal. You feel the mattress shift and open your eyes to find him standing up straight.Â
Both hands grab your hips now, and that little angle change makes him grind even harder into your g-spot, and youâre tumbling over the edge. Itâs been building under the surface for so long that when it hits, itâs blinding. Thereâs static in your toes that washes over you, up, up, dragging a fiery heat with it that consumes your center and makes your head fuzzy.Â
Thereâs screaming.Â
Youâre screaming. Your eyes are clenched so tight, as are your fingers, all your joints, your pussy, around Marcus as he fucks you through it with sloppy thrusts.Â
âThatâs it, oh my god, sweetheart, youâ fuck. Iâm gonna come, Iâmâ where?â
âIn me.â
Your throat is scratchy when you answer, and you donât have any time to elaborate on why thatâs not a bad idea. Youâre still coming, wave after wave of warmth rolling across your body, and youâre vaguely aware of how wet everything is, the sound of him fucking you even more obscene.Â
His shout doesnât quite rival yours, but you feel it when he empties inside of you. His cock jerks and and twitches, wringing out every little bit of pleasure from you, and you think youâre still coming, the pinpricks of pleasure are still too intense to be aftershocks.Â
He stays pressed as deep as he can be as his stomach convulses and his thighs shake, just like yours do where theyâve somehow wrapped around him. Your eyes open again, and the lamplight is so bright now, his breathing is so loud. He grunts and pulls out a bit, then presses back in, and again, until it falters and his whole body slumps.Â
His top half collapses onto you, his little breaths huff and tickle the tingling skin of your belly. Your own breath comes out in a weak moan, and it takes all the strength you can muster just to run your fingers through his sweaty hair.Â
âJesus,â he says.
Your name cascading off his lips in such a strung out voice that it makes you clench around him again.Â
âHuh?âÂ
God, how are you ever going to move again?Â
âYou uh⌠Is that a common occurrence?â
Christ, why is he using such big words?Â
âWhat are you talking about?âÂ
He clears his throat.Â
âYou likeâ You squirted?â
You laugh, one delirious huff. It makes his head rock on your jiggling belly.Â
âI what?â
You gather the will to look down at him. His mouth is open, surprised and amused, and his eyes are shiny and bright.Â
âYeah, like, a lot.â
Heâs still inside you but softening, and his own chuckles make him slip out.Â
You lift up on your elbows as he stands up straight and the evidence is clear. The hair above his dick and high on his thighs is all dark and soaked.Â
âOh my god, Iâm so sorry.â
The sheets on the edge of the bed are absolutely ruined, and you pray heâs one of those men that has a mattress protector. Youâre more than a little mortified, and the way heâs staring at you, silent, is beginning to make you squirmy.
âWhat?âÂ
âWhy do you seem so surprised?â
His fingertips are feather-light across your thighs, and you shiver.Â
âIâve never actually⌠done that? I would have warned you.â
He makes a pained sound, and those fingertips turn into a tight grip just above your knees.Â
He doesnât speak up. Instead, he lies on the bed beside you. He holds himself by his elbow, but that hand strokes your scalp while the other traces up and down your thigh, your hips, your breasts, anything he can reach. You avoid the topic at hand to relax into it, and you think youâre finally coming down as that boneless feeling washes over you.Â
Youâre vaguely aware of his cum dripping out of you, but the sheets are a lost cause anyway. You just watch his lax face, the way the wrinkles in his brow are all smoothed out, the way his eyes follow the patterns heâs drawing on your body.Â
He catches you staring. His gaze meets yours and he smiles and itâs sunny. It warms you through, despite all the sweat thatâs cooling on your body.Â
âHi,â he whispers.Â
You giggle, and he does too. He tries to hold it in by biting his lip, but itâs no use. You will your exhausted bones to shift and face him, and he presses his lips to yours and they meld together.
Itâs languid, unhurried, just reacquainting after too long apart. It feels a little goofy, with how youâre both smiling so wide, but it calms you into settling down after such a high.Â
Both of your breathing seems even, when you part.Â
âThat wasââ
âItâs neverââ
You both chuckle.Â
âLadies first.â
You feel shy now. You canât imagine why, but a fluttery feeling overtakes your stomach.Â
âI was just gonna say⌠That was better than all those times I imagined it.â
You didnât think it was possible, but his smile grows even wider. His eyes flicker from yours to the sheets between you, and you think maybe he feels as bashful as you do.Â
âItâs never been that good.â
A sigh escapes him when he speaks, and his nervous gaze lands on you when his face falls into something more earnest.Â
It takes your breath away. Because itâs never been that good for you either, and isnât that such a perfect coincidence?
You tug him to you by the back of his neck, eat up the surprised little sound he makes against your mouth.Â
âWhen can we go again?â
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thunderstruck | marcus pike
Summary | You're scared of storms but it's okay, because Marcus always knows how to soothe you.
Pairing | Marcus Pike x F!Reader
Word Count | 1.4K
Warnings | Explicit - descriptions of thunderstorms, softness/fluff, rain, established relationship, oral sex (f receiving), dirty talk, our boy Marcus just being Marcus. No use of y/n.
Authors Note | This is my contribution to @undercoverpena's April Showers Challenge. It's a blessing that I got anything out because this brief gave me so many ideas, but I've missed my man and knew he would be the one I'd want to comfort me through a rain storm. Enjoy.
Main Masterlist | Ko-Fi
Divider by @saradika
Are you busy?
No baby, whatâs up?
I donât like the storm.
Theyâve never been your favourite. Something about growing up on the coast, when the rain and wind would bring the waves crashing near your home, and your parents would walk about like nothing was wrong and there wasnât the immediate danger of your house being washed out to sea. The nights, when the wind would clatter the shutters against the windows and drag tiles from the roof to break onto the ground. It might be Washington D.C. now and you might live in a new apartment building, but it doesnât make the torrential rain and gale force winds any easier to handle.
Youâre sitting on the couch, curtains drawn with all the lights on to try and make it feel less scary, but when the first clap of thunder hits you jump and scream all the same, burying yourself further under the blanket, some childhood wish for that to keep you safe.
Thereâs a knock at the door a little while later, the only thing that could drag you from the warm cocoon of blankets. Padding gently to the door, you open it, Marcus stood in front of you, dripping wet from the storm outside. He steps across the threshold, arm wrapping around your waist as he dips to press a kiss to the crown of your head.
âThis feels stupid.â You grumble as you shut the door behind him, following close to his heels as he walks through your apartment, so familiar with it now that it feels like home to have to him here.
âItâs not stupid if youâre scared, baby.â He soothes, sitting down on your couch, opening his arm to encourage you to snuggle into his side, which you do without question.
You can feel his thumb tracing soothing circles on your arm as you settle a little, but itâs short-lived, when a crash of thunder bellows through the room from outside, making you jump and bury your head into the side of his neck with a groan.
âI blame the coast,â You speak softly, âI was always so scared of it blowing our house away when I was small.â
âYou know what helps?â Marcus murmurs against your head, another soft kiss placed to it.
âHmmm?â
âSometimes youâve just got to be louder than the storm.â
You look up at him, confused for a second, until you can feel him moving the two of you, laying you gently down on the couch. His mouth sponges kisses across your neck, trailing down across your collarbone before he drags it away to peel your tank top from your body. You hear Marcus hum in approval at your lack of bra, his hands gently pressing your tits together before his mouth is suckling a nipple into his mouth, tongue flicking over it until itâs stiffened to a peak, giving the same attention to the other side until youâre gasping, bucking your hips into his, the bulge in his trousers evident as his mouth trails further south, tongue leaving a trail from your tits and down your stomach until he gets to the waistband of your pyjama pants.
âLift up.â He murmurs softly, voice almost drowned out by the constant smattering of rain against the windows.
Doing as youâre told, you lift your hips up, letting him hook his fingers into the waistband to drag them down your legs. You miss the weight and warmth of his body when itâs gone, but then you feel his warm palms on the inside of your thighs, pressing your legs open, and then you donât mind so much at all, especially when you look up at him, watching him admire the already sticky mess accumulating between your thighs.
Marcus moves to run his thumb across your folds, dragging your slick across your skin, but not daring to dip below to where you truly want him.
âSuch a pretty pussy.â He muses, moving to situate himself between your legs, hot mouth pressing wet kisses to the delicate skin of your thighs, teasing you by putting his mouth everywhere but where you need it most.
âM-Marcus, please.â You whimper when his face moves, heâs so close to your cunt you can feel the hot of his breath.
âWhat do you want, baby?â He asks, running that damn thumb over your folds once more, this time though, his other thumb rests to the side, gently pulling your folds apart to bare you to him, âWant me to kiss it a little?â
âOh god, oh please Marcus, please.â
âSound so pretty when you beg for it.â He speaks, and youâre about to say something smart when he leans forward and presses a single, open-mouth kiss to your clit.
Itâs tiny in comparison to what you really want, but it makes you throw your head back anyway, back arching, trying to press your cunt closer to his face. Thankfully, he takes pity on you, kisses your clit once, twice more, and then you can feel the tip of his tongue, flicking up against your clit, then dragging back down, sometimes circling, working you gently until youâre whining and bucking your hips into his face.
Youâd almost forgotten about the storm outside, the movements of his tongue distracting you just enough, until the loudest clap of thunder echoes through the apartment. It makes you scream, jumping slightly, but you feel Marcusâ hands grip tightly to the skin of your thighs, tearing his mouth away from you. You look down at him, mouth glistening with a mix of your slick and his spit, glint across his brown eyes.
âWhat did I say?â He asks, squeezing at your thighs again, âWhat did I tell you earlier?â
âUmâŚâ You wrack your brain, trying to remember, âI needed to be louder than the storm?â
âThatâs right, my clever girl,â He praises, heat rising across your skin, âIf you scream for me, you wonât notice.â
Once again, before you can retort with your smart mouth, heâs back on you, lips closing around your clit, tongue resuming itâs flicking across your bundle of nerves, but then you can feel two of his fingers sinking inside you, easing into your walls, curling up against that perfect spot inside of you.
It makes you cry out, his name dropping from your lips as you arch off the couch, his tongue working in time to the press of his two fingers in your cunt. Youâre chanting his name into the room, moving your hips in time to the movements of his hands until youâre teetering on the edge of bliss. He knows, of course he does, the way your walls start to flutter around his fingers, so he slows his fingers, keeping you dangling over the edge but not quite pushing you just yet.
âMarcus p-please,â You whimper, hands tangling in his hair, âPlease make me come.â
âYou asked so nicely, baby,â He muses against your pussy, letting his fingers curl just perfectly against the spongy spot inside you, âWhenever youâre ready honey.â
It takes very little more, his mouth suckling at your clit, his fingers pressing inside you, and then youâre crashing, skin aflame with pleasure as you do exactly as he told you and scream his name into the living room, body convulsing, gushing around his fingers as they still inside you. Youâre clenching around him as his tongue moves gently across your clit to work you through your orgasm until youâre boneless and pliant beneath him.
Marcus drags his fingers from you, letting them run up the skin of your thighs, as he finally relents and pulls away from you, just in time for more thunder to sound out, this time a little further away.
âWell, listen there,â He whispers, fingers moving to undo the button of his trousers, âStorm still hasnât passed,â He speaks as he drags the zipper down, âThink you can make a little more noise, baby?â
You reach up, hand clutching the back of his neck to pull him back down on top of you, mouth meeting his, tasting yourself on his tongue as he kisses you before you pull away, âI can make all the noise you want.â
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Daddyâs Girl
summary: this is actually a part two of Sweet, Domestic Life. iâm glad yâall thought it was cute bc i love joel having a happy life and being a family man (but tbf idk if i like this or not) also iâve been reading writing tips and whatnot and even had a friend go over this for me (she helped so much) !! i hope you can notice a (good) difference shskdhakal
warnings: your child is a menace (affectionate), f!reader, reader is referred to as mama, the daughter is nicknamed âBugâ, so sweet itâll rot your teeth, i also donât know how to properly write toddlers lol
w.c.: 1k
âşË°・ââąâŽËâ˝đźđâŻđđźâžËâŽâąâ・°Ëâş
  A soft, content sigh escaped your lips as you sat on the bed, crossing your legs as you neatly folded laundry and separated each article of clothing into its own pile. Joel was not as contented; he chased your little girl up and down the hall, her high-pitched squealing bouncing off the walls as she scuttled away, and he followed in hot pursuit with heavy feet that thundered after her with every laugh and giggle.
You heard Joel ask with an accusing tone, "What do you have in your hand?" Your ears perked up, and as soon as you lifted your head, you saw your three-year-old come barreling in. With a wide, shit-eating grin plastered on her face, making her cheeks appear rounder, she held her closed fist out in front of her.
"Mama!" She hollered and rushed to the edge of the bed, her free hand gripping and fisting at the bed sheets as she clambered up the mattress and placed a tiny foot against the frame of the bed to hoist herself up, trying her best to reach you.
"Bug!" You exclaimed with a dramatic widening of your eyes, dropping the shirt you held, and raising your arms slightly before grabbing her and settling her onto your lap. Joel joined next and propped an arm against the door frame as his chest heaved from the chase he had just endured. His brows bunched together, but a playful smile stretched his lips, clearly thrilled to be a part of the game.
"Nuh-uh," he said with a shake of his head and walked forward, "Mama can't help ya." Then he reached for the toddler once again.
Your eyes narrowed as you were about to argue but stopped short as Bug screeched in your ear. The sudden noise made you recoil with a wince. Your neck craned to the side, and you arched your brows while you blinked rapidly and waited for her to simmer down.
After a minute, you tilted your head to look down at her, "You done?" You ask softly and tuck a wavy strand of hair behind her ear.
Her head bobbled in response, "Yeah," she sucked in her lips and shifted in your lap, grabbing onto the collar of your shirt to balance herself.
You nod back and carefully remove her hand from the shirt, preventing her from possibly tugging the collar too low. "Okay," you whisper, then turning back to Joel. You resume your theatrical act, cradling your daughter's head to your shoulder protectively as you give him a mock pout.
"Not so fast, Miller," you say dramatically, "You bein' mean to my girl?"
The little girl had her hands tucked under her chin as she peeked at Joel with a mischievous glint in her eyes. Your husband noticed this, of course, and shot her a lighthearted glare.
"If anything, she's the mean one," he retaliated with a vague gesture of his hand and moved to lay down beside the two of you. "Makin' an old man with a bad back and bad knees run around like that." He added, followed by a soft exhale as he brought his hands to his stomach and clasped them together.
You snorted faintly and observed him with mild amusement as he got comfortable. You then avert your gaze to the fidgeting child in your lap. "I heard Daddy ask what you got in your hand," you tell her, tilting your head curiously. "Wanna show me what it is?"
Her nose scrunched as she bared her teeth in a goofy grin and brought her hands from under her chin, splaying them open to reveal-
"Nothing?" Your head reeled back with a laugh. Ah, of course. She was getting her father riled up for the sake of it, truly a chip off the old block.
Joel chuckled under his breath, bringing a hand from his torso to rub tiredly at his face.
"Glad I've got my girls ta keep me on my toes." He mumbled, voice barely above a whisper as he opened his eyes again and glanced between you. Your daughter wormed free from your hold and crawled onto Joel's lap, her little hands splayed across his chest as she gazed down at him.
" 'S'a joke, Daddy." She explained, her shoulders bobbing up and down with a happy lilt in her voice. "Bellie told me." Ah, that would explain it. Joel couldn't deny that Ellie's favorite pastime seemed to be finding ways to get under his skin, and now that had also expanded to his other daughter.
" 'Course she did," Joel replied, flicking his gaze to you, his expression mostly neutral with a faint look of amusement. You noticed your daughter's lip slightly parted with a soft yawn, and her eyes dropped ever so slightly, which signaled the two of you that she was starting to get sleepy.
"Yeah, bein' a li'l menace is tirin' ain't it, Bug?" Joel cooed playfully and touched her back, gently lowering her to lay against his chest.
You watched the interaction fondly and felt your heart flutter.
You couldnât deny it; your daughter was a daddy's girl through and through, always seeking out the time she could spend with him, running to him with open arms when he came home after patrol, and always being under his feet, which he would always welcome with equal enthusiasm.
You finished folding the rest of the laundry and gathered each pile, placing them in their respective spots within the dresser. As you worked, you listened as Joel quietly sang, "Bye, Baby Buntin," his words slowly trailing off as he did. You turned back to see the pair fast asleep, the two embracing each other.
A warm feeling rushed through your body, and you silently padded over to the bed, reaching for the comforter folded at the end and throwing it open. You placed it over the pair and gently kissed each of their foreheads before turning off the lamp, then snuggled in next to them and closed your eyes, savoring this moment of peace and contentment.
âşË°・ââąâŽËâ˝đźđâŻđđźâžËâŽâąâ・°Ëâş
sorry itâs so short ahh !! i just wanted to write something real quickie. thank you for reading and comments/reblogs are always appreciated <33
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joel miller | shelter
masterlist | taglist | ko-fi
note: this can be read as part two of survive
words: 2.4k
warnings: 18+. please do not continue if you're uncomfortable with discussions surrounding rape/sexual assault, violence, blood, and cannibalism. spoilers.
synopsis: after the events of episode eight in which reader takes ellie's place as david's hostage, joel finds a cabin where he can take care of you in the middle of the woods. hurt, comfort, and fluff ensues. reader x joel, reader x ellie, and joel x ellie interactions, but mostly joel cleaning you up after a horrific experience.
tags: @sweetbabygirlsworld @m4tthewmurd0ck
It feels like youâre walking for miles before you find the abandoned, dusty cabin in the middle of the woods.
Your teeth chatter as Joel leads you inside, Ellie following behind. The smell is stale and it isnât much warmer, but youâre out of the snow and thatâs enough for now. When you see snow, you see blood, too.Â
âAlright, here we go,â Joel says, propping his gun against a ratty couch and looking around.Â
Ellie shuts the door on the howling wind, raising her brows. âNot bad.â
âLetâs see if we can find anything to clean up with.â Joel begins searching the small cupboards above a sink still stacked with plates.Â
You donât know what to do, donât know how to think about anything but the blood in your hair. His blood. You need it off you, need to rid yourself of any hint that he ever existed, ever hurt you. Absently, you scratch your arms and wander over to the fireplace. Charred tinder and ash sit in the hearth, and beside it, a pile of logs have been stacked haphazardly. You throw a couple in and shrug off your backpack, your fingers trembling as you find a lighter. Anything to help you feel something other than this yawning emptiness, this black hole, this disgust and this fear.Â
âFuck, yeah!â Ellie exclaims, yanking her gloves off and warming her hands. You offer a wry smile, perching on the closest couch and trying to focus on the orange glow.Â
But then you think of the candles in the restaurant. The way you set David alight with them. The stench of burning clothes and hair as you walked away.Â
You close your eyes, your fingers curling so tightly into your palms that they leave marks behind.Â
âHey,â Ellie says softly, kneeling in front of you. âYouâre safe now, yâknow?â
âI know, kiddo.â You put on a brave face for her benefit, though sheâs smart enough to know youâre not okay. âThanks.â
âWhat did⌠What did he do to you?âÂ
Before you can answer, Joelâs stern voice echoes around the cabin. âEllie, go see what you can find. There should be a bathroom, washcloths, somethinâ.â
Sighing, Ellie offers you a kind expression, which you return, and then she disappears into the next room.Â
You cast Joel an impatient look. âYou donât have to do that.â You push off the couch and wander over to him. âHowâs your wound? Any pain?â
His jaw ticks, and he shakes his head. âIâm fine.â
âYou need to rest.â It was hard to believe he was still standing at all, and you hadnât missed his bloody knuckles. You wonder what heâd done, who heâd beat just to get to you. James, maybe, and the men David threatened would find them. Itâs a miracle any of you are here.Â
âYou need to drink.â Joel pulls a bottle of water from his pack and hands it to you, watching you carefully like heâs just waiting for you to break. âIâll go hunting first thing tomorrow. Get you some food.â
You think of the ear in the kitchen, the meat on the plate David offered you, and your stomach turns. Using the counter for support, you take a steady breath.Â
âBabyâŚâ Joel is there in an instant, his hand caressing the small of your back.Â
âIâm okay,â you lie.Â
He hesitates a moment. âDid heâŚ?â
You know what heâs asking. Did he rape you? âNo. No. He tried.â A wave of anguish rolls up in you, so thick in your throat that you feel like you might throw up again. âI slaughtered him, Joel. I⌠I couldnât stop. There was so much blood.â
Joelâs nostrils flare with suppressed anger, but he pulls you closer, smoothing down your matted, tangled hair. âHe deserved it.âÂ
âI didnât think I was getting out of there,â you admit, voice cracking with tears.Â
âYou did, darlinâ.â He sighs, wrapping his arms around you. âYou got out. I've got you now. Youâre safe.â
Youâve never accepted comfort so readily before, always desperate to prove to Joel that you can be just as strong as him, that you can carry his burdens as well as your own. But youâre losing your grip tonight; on yourself and on everything that you know. Something has changed in you after seeing the monstrosities that men like David can commit. Itâs like heâs poisoned you, and you can feel it creeping beneath your skin.Â
Ellie reappears from the other room, waving a bottle of what looks to be shampoo in her hand. âThe bathroomâs well-stocked. And Iâm calling dibs on the bed, by the way.â
âLike hell you are,â Joel grumbles, giving you a final squeeze before urging you forward. âCâmon. Weâll clean you up now.â
***
You look in the grimy mirror and donât recognise yourself. Blood is splattered all over your face, clothes, hair. Your wrists are blistered, angry red welts covering your skin where you tried to wriggle out of your rope ties.Â
Joel has sent Ellie back into the other room to warm up more water, and youâre glad for that.Â
âYou mind if I check that cut on the back of your head first?â Joel asks gently.Â
You shake your head, watching his reflection as he moves behind you and separates through your hair to see your injury. You donât remember how you got it now. You were knocked out by James, but David gave you a beating too before youâŚ
You give a sharp intake of breath as the memories flood back again, and Joel pulls away quickly. âSorry. Sorry. I didnât mean to hurt you.â
âNo. You didnât.â You swallow. âI was just⌠remembering.âÂ
Understanding crosses his features. âSit down,â he offers, as though he knows that you canât bear to be haunted by your reflection for a moment longer. You do, perching on the edge of the bath. He goes back to checking your injury.Â
âItâs not too deep,â he murmurs, his touch feather-light. âShould be okay once we get it clean. âS it hurt a lot?â
âNo.â Nothing hurts, though you know it should. You can barely focus on anything but the aching heaviness in your chest, the unease in your stomach, the thought that youâll have to live with this now. Knowing that the world is even more broken than you thought, and it almost killed you.Â
âGonna clean your face first. That okay?â
You nod, and he rolls up his sleeves as he kneels in front of you, wringing out a washcloth in the sink of water heâd warmed by the fire. You want to tell him you can do it yourself, but you canât. You donât want to be left alone in this bathroom. You donât want to watch the blood drip into the water. You donât want Joel to leave you when you thought youâd lost him for good not too long ago.Â
Carefully, he runs his thumb over the bruise on your cheek. âI should'a got there quicker.â
âYou were a little busy trying not to die,â you remind him. You take his hand, finally allowing yourself to acknowledge his bruised and bloody knuckles. âThey came for you, too?â
He grimaces, pulling away as though ashamed. âDonât you worry about that. I took care of it.âÂ
âYou always do,â you say, throat feeling raw. âYou always take care of us.â
He softens, brushing your hair behind your ear. âYou took care of yourself just fine today, baby You shouldnât have had to, and Iâm so⌠Iâm so sorry.â
âStop saying that. Please.â Tears slip down your cheeks. âIt isnât your fault. Please donât make this your burden, Joel. This one⌠this is all mine, and Iâll gladly take it if it means you and Ellieâre okay.â
âWe ainât okay if youâre not.â He wipes your tears away. âI thought⌠I thought Iâd lost you.â Now itâs his voice that fractures, and it leaves you sinking with pain. His pain and your own. âI was so scared. Could barely breathe. Iâm never letting that happen again, you hear?â
You can only dip your head as you choke on a sob, wishing you could be stronger. Wishing all of this was easier.Â
Joel begins dabbing your face with the washcloth, holding your chin between his thumb and forefinger. You close your eyes when you see it come away red, trying to focus on the water lapping in the sink when he rinses it and squeezes it out.Â
âThatâs it, baby girl. Close your eyes. Let me take care of it.âÂ
You do, and his touch keeps you grounded, keeps you from slipping back into that cage, or worse, back into Davidâs arms. For a moment, youâre not in an abandoned cabin, twenty years into a pandemic. For a moment, youâre home, letting the man you love take care of you without guns or threat; with only a washcloth and a tender hand.Â
Heâs careful against your bruise, and he doesnât leave any spot unclean; your jaw, your neck, behind your ears.Â
âAlmost done,â he promises, but you wouldnât mind if it took all night.Â
He lets the water swirl down the drain when heâs done, and Ellie comes in soon after with another heated pan.Â
âThanks, kiddo,â you say, blinking the droplets from your eyelashes.Â
âIs there anything else I can do to help?â
Joel gives her a warm smile and squeezes her shoulder. âWe got it covered. Go get the couch ready. You know, since youâre sleeping there tonight.â
She groans in a very teenagerly way, trudging out of the bathroom as though she hasnât spent many a night on forest floors. You canât help but let out a small laugh, and Joel smirks at the sound.
âPain in the ass," he comments with more adoration than annoyance.
âYou love her and you know it.â
He only hums, grabbing a cup. âLean your head back for me.â
You do, feeling renewed when the water trickles down your scalp and into the dirty bathtub. It reminds you of being a kid again, not yet old enough to wash your own hair. Somehow, the nostalgia leaves you emotional, and youâre trying not to cry again.Â
âHey, hey,â Joel says, putting the cup down. When you sob, he breathes, âI know. I know. Câmere.â
He pulls you into his chest without caring about how you dampen his shirt, and you clutch onto him as the grief, the terror, all rush through you. You canât control it. Itâs been pent up for too long, and this is your last straw. The thing that has pushed you over the rocky edge.Â
Joel only whispers again and again: âI know. Youâre okay, baby. I got you.â
***
Later, after you have stopped crying for long enough to let Joel shampoo your hair and the fire has died to embers you canât risk rekindling, you crawl into your sleeping bed on top of the double mattress that Ellie so desperately wanted to sleep in. You smell like strawberries, and your skin is brand new, having scrubbed it top to bottom once Joel left the bathroom. Youâre wearing one of the shirts he picked up at Bill and Frankâs over your own sweater, and it carries his musk, his warmth.Â
Joel is looking out of the windows. After so much danger, you know itâs hard for him to settle. To believe that you might just be okay for one night.
âJoel?â
âHmm?â The room is dark, but you see him glance your way, eyes shiny in the moonlight.Â
âCome to bed. Please.â
His brows furrow, and he sits on the mattress slowly. âI can take the floor if you donât wantââ
âI do. I do want.â
âYou donât think I should keep watch?â
âI think weâre in the middle of fucking nowhere. Only things thatâll be bothering us here are the birds and the deer.â You regret bringing that up as soon as it leaves your mouth. You think of the deer you hunted, the thing that brought you to David, and stiffen.Â
Joel must sense it, because he slouches in resignation and kicks off his boots. âOkay. Just for a little bit.â
You scooch over in your sleeping bag in the hopes heâll understand what you need.Â
He does. He slips in, holding an arm out so you can curl into him, so you do. His chest is warm, breaths steady, and if you can just stay like this for a while, maybe youâll be okay again.Â
âSleep, darlinâ,â he whispers into your hair. âIâll be right here.â
âDo you think weâll make it through this in the end?â you wonder aloud. âEllie, the cure⌠if we make it out alive, if all this turns out to be worth it, what will we do afterwards? Where will it leave us? We canât go back to Boston.â
âWe donât have to worry about that now.â He strokes your arm, and goosebumps rise on your skin.Â
âI need something to hold onto, Joel,â you admit. âI need to imagine it wonât always be this bad.â
Moments pass, the silence a cold, unwelcome blanket across you. But then Joel folds it away. âWhen this is over, weâll go back to Jackson. You, me, and Ellie. Weâll get us a real house, live a boring life with Tommy. Go watch movies and yell at Ellie for being a little shit.â
You snort at that, and her voice echoes from the front room: âI can hear you!âÂ
âGo to sleep!â Joel yells back.Â
âI would if I wasnât lying on an old uncomfortable couch with the fucking fleas!âÂ
You roll your eyes, rubbing his chest lovingly. âJust get in here and stop complaining!â
âSeriously?â he murmurs, though there is no surprise there; only something warm, amused. If you can find that after a day like today, you can find it anywhere, you think.Â
Before you can reply, Ellieâs hopeful face appears in the shadows. She clutches her sleeping bag, a cheeky grin on her face. âShift over, old man.â
Joel glares, but he pulls you closer so that Ellie can lie on the other side of you. You wrinkle your nose as she jumps onto the bed, kicking herself into her sleeping bag with little grace. He huffs and puffs, murmuring into your ear, âRegret it yet?â
âNo,â you say, and youâre not just talking about the offer for Ellie to join you anymore. You pull her into you so that youâre sandwiched by the two people you love most in the world, and finally, with Joelâs warmth at your back and Ellieâs ponytail in your face, you feel safe.Â
Joelâs fingers trail up and down your spine as Ellie settles, and they stay there as you slowly fall asleep.Â
If this is what Joelâs boring life will be like, youâre ready for Jackson. Youâre ready to go home with your family.
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joel miller | survive
masterlist | taglist | ko-fi
words: 4.7k
warnings: 18+! not for minors! please please please read the warnings and skip this one if you're uncomfortable with the subject matter.
episode eight reimagining with the same hard-hitting themes: blood, violence, cannibalism, sexual assault, killing, abduction, vomit. reader takes the place of ellie. angst. hurt/comfort. no happy ending as requested because i wasn't sure that could exist in these circumstances, but there is now a part two where joel takes care of reader and the fic ends on a lighter note.
prompt: Hi! Would love to request something for Joel Miller 𼰠Angst but with a happy ending, after seeing episode 8 I thought maybe reader is with Joel and Ellie, but this time Ellie stays back to keep an eye on Joel so reader gets kidnapped and is the one Joel basically comes back from the dead to save? hahshxdjfbf I just imagine them reuniting and UGH đĽšâ¤ď¸ Feel free to ignore this if inspiration doesnât strike!
tags: @sweetbabygirlsworld
Youâre terrified of losing Joel. So terrified that instead of watching him shiver and sweat on an old, bloodied mattress as his infection spreads, you opt to go out and hunt. It isnât solely selfish. You need food, and Ellie needs to rest. At least this way youâre doing something productive rather than waiting for a miracle.Â
Still, itâs difficult to concentrate on anything but the knot in your stomach, the one that keeps asking âwhat if?â What if Joel doesnât make it? How will you survive past that grief for long enough to keep Ellie safe? How will you go back to Jackson and tell Tommy that his brother is gone?
Youâre lost in those thoughts when you hear the crunching of snow, and you try to shake them away, readying Joelâs shotgun as you search for the source.Â
A deer. Itâs so beautiful that for a second, you forget that itâs supposed to be your next meal. Youâd forgotten beauty still existed in a world so broken, forgotten that nature can still be kind.Â
But humans canât. Not if you want to survive; not if you want Joel to survive.Â
You take a deep breath. Adjust your posture. Shoot.Â
The bullet doesnât hit where you want it to; where you know you should have been aiming if only you werenât so distracted. The deer darts away. Whispering a curse, you follow the trail of blood â
And find more than you bargained for. Two men wait with the dying deer at their feet. They look⌠clean. Comfortable. Not people struggling to find food or clothing. You raise your gun again immediately, and theirs point back at you.Â
âPut your guns down,â you order, trying to sound braver than you feel. You did alright before Joel came into your life, but itâs been a while since youâve been alone and itâs hard to summon the strength that used to come so easy.Â
âYou first,â the darker-haired man says, narrowing his gaze.Â
The fairer man glances warily before slowly lowering his. Good. At least one of them is smart.Â
âNot going to happen. On the ground. Kick it away.â You shift on your feet, gripping your gun tightly and readying your finger on the trigger. You donât enjoy killing people, but you will if you have to. If it means getting back to Joel and Ellie.Â
âJames,â the unarmed man says, calm authority firm in his voice. The one in charge, then. âDo as she says.â He holds up his hands in surrender as his friend, James, finally puts his gun away. âWe mean no trouble. Weâd just like to talk.â
âSo talk,â you bite out, making no move to lower your own gun.Â
âAlright.â His breath is visible in the cool air, nose pink and runny. âMy name is David. This is James. Weâre from a town just south of here.â
âGood for you. Maybe you should go back now.â
An amused smirk twitches at his mouth. âThing is, we have a lot of mouths to feed down there, and this deer⌠it would keep us going for a week. Maybe two.â
âShame it isnât yours,â you say.
A short sigh escapes him. âRight. It is a shame. But if I could offer you warm shelter and good food, a welcoming community, why couldnât we share?âÂ
You raise your eyebrows. âIâm not interested in negotiating.â
âWith all due respect, maâam⌠as far as I can tell, youâre all alone in these woods. Thereâs no reason why you have to be.â
Itâs clear the other man, James, isnât in on Davidâs kind offer. His mouth is pursed in a thin line, jaw grinding as though heâs holding back from saying something. Welcoming community, my ass.Â
Still, an idea strikes. You need something else more than you need the deer, and if this town has supplies⌠âYou have medicine in this town of yours?â
David hesitates before dipping his head. âWe do.â
âAntibiotics?â
âYesâŚâ
Hope swells in you for the first time since Joel was injured.Â
âIf you put the gun down, weâd be much more open to discussing what it is you need,â he continues. âPlease?â
Gulping, you slowly lower your gun â but you keep it in your hand just in case, stomach still filled with unease. Not every settlement will be like Jackson, and thereâs something⌠off about these two.Â
âIf you get me that medicine, you can have the deer.â
âWe can do you one better. We have a nurse down in the village who can help you with your injury. If you just come with usâŚâ
âNo,â you say. âYouâll bring the medicine here, to me.â
Another strange smile. âYouâll be much more likely to survive the winter if you let us help you.â
Impatient, you raise your gun again. âBring it or stop wasting my damn time.â
David lifts his hands again. âOkay. Alright. James, go and fetch what the lady needs.âÂ
âDavidââ James begins to protest, but is quickly cut off.Â
âGo on now.âÂ
Reluctantly, he does, and then itâs just the two of you.Â
âI know a place you can get warm,â he offers. âItâs just through the trees. An old greenhouse. No need to wait out here in the cold.â
It makes your gut twist, how he seems to be determined to get you moving, to take you out of these woods. And thereâs a glint in his eye, something untrustworthy there â even his right-hand man seemed to see it. Nobody follows orders like that with pure reasons. Heâs⌠scared, or at least threatened.Â
âIâm fine just here.â
âOkay. Whatâs your name?â
âIâm the one holding a gun, which means Iâll be the one asking questions. How many people are there in this town of yours?â
âForty. Like I said, thereâs room for one more. Perhaps it was Godâs will, us meeting today.â
Oh, good, you think. Heâs a God botherer. You didnât particularly subscribe to religion before the world turned to shit, and you sure as hell have better things to do than pray now.Â
âUnless youâre not alone.â His voice seems to lower as though he knows something, and you stiffen instinctively. âIs the injury yours?â
âItâs none of your business.â
He no longer seems to be staring down the barrel of your gun, but right into you. âBecause a few of our men had some trouble a few days ago. A man, a woman, and a young girl. Man was thought to be badly injured, you see. If he lived⌠well, Iâd imagine that kinda wound would be susceptible to a nasty infection.â
He knows. He always knew. The raiders you crossed paths with, the ones who hurt JoelâŚÂ
You no longer feel like the one holding the gun. You feel like the deer bleeding on the snow between you. Prey. Still, you set your chin. âI donât know what you mean. I travel alone.â
âSee, I believe you, but the thing is⌠my friend, James⌠heâs not so certain. Iâd imagine that once he comes back with that medicine, heâll be rounding up a few men to go hunting for these people. If what youâre saying is true, I wouldnât want you to be caught in the middle of that. Thatâs why itâs much safer you just come with me now, see?âÂ
Your upper lip curls into a warning snarl, finger twitching on the gunâs trigger. But if you kill him, you wonât get Joelâs medicine. Youâll lose him. âIâm sure Iâll be fine.âÂ
âHmm.â He debates this. âThereâs a third option.â
âNot interested.â
âI think you are,â he pushes. âI think youâre one of them, and I think youâre trying to help your man. Very noble, but strange. You donât seem a good match. Youâre so⌠young, so calm, and from what I hear, heâs dangerous. Ruthless, even. A cold-blooded killer. Maybe if you come into town with me now, we can arrange for that medicine to be delivered without my brigade charging in and doing some damage. Thereâs a place for you. Your daughter, too. You donât need to be tied to him anymore.â
You want to scoff, or else laugh in his face. Does he believe youâre that simple, that stupid? Does he believe youâre a fucking damsel in need of saving?
Anger simmers in you at the thought. âI think itâs about time you shut up.â You point the barrel at his head now, right between his brows.
He doesnât balk, doesnât tremble, doesnât so much as blink, and youâre beginning to understand. Heâs the type of man who uses religion to veil whatever monster lies beneath. He isnât some small-town do-gooder, though he might believe it.Â
You dread to think what he might be capable of.Â
âI think itâs about time you drop your weapon.â The voice doesnât belong to David. It comes from behind along with the feeling of cold metal against the back of your skull. You risk a glance over your shoulder to see the man from before, James. You should have heard him creep up, should have seen, but you were so focused on the one in front of you.
Your heart thunders as you realise you might not get out of it this time.Â
âWe only want you to come with us,â David says, eyes round with feigned innocence. âThatâs all. We donât want to hurt you.â
âThe gun to my head says otherwise. What would God say about this?â you retort, dripping venom because itâs all you have left.Â
A strange sadness crosses Davidâs face. âIt didnât have to be this way.â
Before you can pull the trigger, something heavy slams into your skull, and then darkness swallows you whole.Â
***
You wake in a cage, the taste of blood on your tongue and your wrists bound by rope. David is on the other side of the bars in what looks to be a kitchen, utensils hanging on the wall. Great butchersâ knives and cleavers wink at you in the watery daylight. You go cold with fear, crawling to the furthest corner of the cage.Â
âLet me go,â you say. âLet me go!âÂ
âIâm sorry. Itâs for your own good,â he says. âYou were corrupted, but I can help you see the light again.â
âWhy are you doing this?â Youâre choking on a sob, thoughts of Joel and Ellie running through your mind. What if they found them? Joel is in and out of consciousness and Ellie canât fight on her own.Â
David curls his fingers around the bars. âItâs Godâs will. I was meant to meet you today. This is where youâre supposed to be.â
âIn a fucking cage?â you spit, voice echoing around the kitchen. You pull at the rope until your skin splits, crying out when you realise this is it. Thereâs no way out. Youâre trapped, and you have no idea what this man truly wants with you.Â
âThis is merely a precaution,â he says. âI was wrong about you before. You are dangerous too. You have a dark heart, just like me. If you would just surrender, you could be part of this community.â
You squeeze your eyes closed, clamping down on a plea. You doubt it will do any good. Still, tears roll down your cheeks. âFuck you,â you whisper.Â
âYou donât understand yet. You will.â David takes a step back, and somehow the prospect of him leaving you here causes your stomach to turn to water.Â
âDonât do this,â you say. But he walks away with a glint in his eye that promises he will be back, and youâre left alone.Â
Dizziness rattles through you as you pull yourself onto your feet, testing the sturdiness of the bars in hopes youâll find a weak spot. But itâs padlocked closed and the screws are in tightly â
Something catches your eye, pale and fleshy on the kitchen tiles.Â
An ear.Â
In the kitchen.Â
You vomit without warning as it all comes together. You wonder if the community even knows that their leader feeds them people. Wonder who was last in this cage and how long it took for them to become a meal.Â
You scramble against the ropes again and pray â not to whatever fucked up God David worships, but someone â that you find a way out.Â
***
âJoel!â Ellie shakes him frantically and finally he comes to. Sweat glistens on his forehead, his face drawn and pale, but he finally ate something earlier and sheâs been keeping him hydrated as he drifts in and out of sleep.
Now, he frowns and hums in question.
âY/N isnât back. She didnât come back, and now people are here.â
The sound of shuffling outside is only growing louder, and she keeps her voice to a whisper as fear grips her. Itâs not like you to go more than two hours without checking in, even if you havenât caught anything for dinner yet. That four hours have passed means something is wrong, and Ellie doesnât know what to do, how to find you. She needs Joel. She needs you.Â
âWhat?â Joel struggles to sit up, the mattress groaning under his weight as he clutches his injured stomach. But heâs alert, awake, and thatâs better than heâs been in days.Â
âShe isnât back,â Ellie says again, voice trembling now. âSomeoneâs here, Joel. They know about us.âÂ
Understanding clears through the fog in his eyes slowly, and he looks up as he hears the floorboards creak above. âShit,â he curses, dragging himself slowly to his knees. Ellie watches, pulling out her own gun. âHide somewhere. Let me deal with it.â
Heâs in no fit state to deal with anything, but when Ellie protests, he shushes her and orders her to do as he says, so she does. And as he readies himself for a fight he canât win, panic rushes through him. Youâre not back. Somebody is here.Â
Heâs failed again, or at least is about to, and this time itâs you heâs afraid to lose.Â
He summons that anger when the silhouette slowly stalks down the stairs. Summons it a lot more when heâs throwing an arm around the idiotâs neck to squeeze the life out of him.Â
***
Joel has forgotten his injury. Heâs forgotten anything but you; the thought of you alone, in danger, afraid. His fingers curl into fists at his side, and when the attacker finally rouses, he orders Ellie to leave the room. He doesnât want her to see what comes next; who he becomes when heâs trying to protect the people he loves.Â
Nausea twists through him, but it mingles with anticipation. Some sick excitement. Heâs good at being violent. Better at being vengeful.Â
âWhere is she?â he asks, voice just steady enough to be assertive.Â
The attacker mumbles something, and Joelâs patience quickly dwindles.Â
âWho are you?â he asks, louder now.Â
The attacker shakes his head. Doesnât want to play.Â
Joel brandishes his knife.Â
The attackerâs eyes widen in fear as he presses the point into his finger, ignoring the throbbing in his stomach. âYou want to do this the hard way?â
âI'm not telling you anything.â
Joel tilts his head and clenches his jaw. Then in one swift motion, heâs gripping the arms of the chair the attacker is tied to, quivering with anger as he towers over him. âLast chance.â
The attacker purses his lips, and Joel steps back, watching him sink in relief â relishing in that false sense of security. Then he throws the first punch, the impact of fist to jaw singing through his bones. He shakes out his hand, punches again. Blood splatters, but he goes again twice more just for good measure, growing weaker with every blow. He stops when he realises that, knowing he needs to conserve his energy to get to you.Â
âWhere the fuck is she?â he bellows.
âI donât know who youâre talking about!âÂ
He plunges the knife into the attackers knee, the sound of bone crunching and flesh squelching as blood dribbles down his jeans and the attacker cries out. Thatâs when he begins to beg. Thatâs when Joel knows heâll tell him anything.Â
âAlright!â heâs whimpering. âAlright, please!âÂ
âTell me where she is or I swear to god, Iâll pop youâre fucking kneecap off.â Joel drives the blade deeper, thirsty now. Desperate. He canât do this without you. He needs you safe. If he finds out youâre hurtâŚ
âWith David!â he blubbers. âSheâs with David in town!âÂ
âWhat tooooown?â (oh, you thought I wouldnât?)
âSilver Lake!âÂ
âWho the fuck is David and what does he want with her?âÂ
âHeâŚâ the man chokes on his own sobs again, and Joel tugs on the knife, earning a piercing scream. âI donât know what he wants, okay? Heâs the leader! He⌠he took to her, I donât know!âÂ
A chill crawls down Joelâs spine and his vision blurs as he pauses. His blood-drenched fingers tremble, and he doesnât know how to make them stop. âWhat do you mean, he took to her?âÂ
The man spits out blood. âHe likes her. Wants her to join him. I donât know, man. I donât know. I told you everything.âÂ
Joel wants to tear him apart then and there, but he pulls out his map, yanking the knife from the manâs knee to put the hilt in his mouth. The attacker howls, tears streaking down his cheeks. Joel wants to tell him heâll do a lot fucking worse if he finds you harmed. He wants to say a lot of things, but cotton fills his mouth and he needs to find you. He needs to stop wasting time. âPoint it out to me.â
âItâs not a real town. Itâs just a fucking community. I donât know.â
Joel grips the manâs collar, and his voice falls deathly low. âPoint it out to me or Iâll make sure your other knee matches.â
Itâs enough motivation for the attacker to pinpoint a spot. His blood stains the map, highlighting a small valley between the forest and mountains.Â
Joel puts the map in his back pocket and slits the manâs throat before he can beg for his life. Heâs not feeling merciful today.Â
***
David comes back for you an hour later. âHave you reconsidered?âÂ
You only glare at him, your wrists bloody and your eyes gritty from so many shed tears. To your surprise, he unlocks the cage. Despite your better instinct, you stay seated, stay calm. You wonât get out of this if you try to run now. He has the upper hand, and youâll let him have it, hoping his arrogance, his underestimation of you, will be his downfall.Â
âYou must be hungry,â he says. âCome. Let me show you what I can offer.â
Shakily, you rise from the ground. âWill you at least untie me?â
âIâll think about it.â
He leads you out of your kitchen. When heâs not looking, you lean your back to the table and snatch an abandoned knife, slipping it up your sleeve.Â
The front of the building is laid out like an old, cheap restaurant and bar, candles burning and booths lining the windows.Â
âIâm glad youâve calmed down,â he says. âNow weâll get a chance to know each other properly.â
Slowly, you begin to saw at the rope with the knife as he leads you to a booth. Two plates are set at the table, a candle lit in the middle, and you think about the ear on the floor. Wonder if the meat in the stew is not animal, not your deer. You want to throw up again, but you swallow down the bile in favour of relief: the rope has snapped. You keep your hands behind your back as you shuffle in your seat, trying to avoid looking at the meal. The smell of it makes your stomach turn.Â
âWhat do you want from me?â you ask finally.Â
David places a napkin on his lap. âIâm showing you hospitality. Hospitality you havenât earned, might I add. Where is your gratitude?â
âWhere the fuck is my medicine?â
Without warning, he stands and slaps you, and you canât control your anger as the sting prickles along your cheekbone. You throw your plate at him, the food splattering his face and staining his shirt, and then you run.Â
A mistake. He hauls you back quickly, and the two of you topple to the floor as he slams your wrist down, forcing the knife away. He pins your hands and then straddles you, and you know what comes next. You know, and you shouldnât, and this isnât happening.Â
âYou need to be taught some manners,â he croons, taking your chin in his hands. âA girl like you⌠you need to learn how to submit. Especially when weâre married. But donât worry.â He leans down as you squirm, whispering into your ear, âWe have time for that.â
âNo!â You shout, slapping him away and doing your best to wriggle away. But heâs heavy on top of you, and heâs reaching for his belt, and thereâs no way out. No hope. Nothing. âGet the fuck off me, you sick bastard!âÂ
He slaps you again, lash twice as hard this time, and you taste blood.Â
You refuse to let it end like this. You refuse to let him destroy you. You let your body go slack as he unbuckles his belt, reaching out a hand and scrambling for the knife again. Itâs under a chair not far from you â you just have to wriggle a little further.Â
âItâs sad that you canât accept that this is how itâs supposed to be. This is Godâs will. You and me⌠weâre the same, underneath. We have the same violent heart,â David is muttering, and there, your fingertips brush the hilt. Determination renewed, you extend yourself again and this time the knife falls into your hand.Â
You donât have time to think; heâs unbuttoning his jeans, and like hell are you going to spend another moment beneath him. You drive the knife straight into his neck, and his eyes bulge as he gurgles on his own blood. As he goes limp, you push him off you â and stab again, again, again, spitting every bit of revenge into your movements as his blood covers his skin and your clothes.Â
âYou twisted fucker!â youâre yelling, tears rolling down your face as the shock draws in, the disgust. Heâd been so close to taking you. So close to making you a victim after so long spent fighting to be a survivor. âGo to fucking hell!âÂ
You only stop when the fear numbs and you realise heâs no longer moving. Blood soaks both his shirt and yours, and you push yourself off him. His dead, milky eyes stare at you. When you catch a candle guttering in your periphery, you grab it. Crouch with it in your hand. Light him on fire. The flames spread along his clothes, and thatâs how you leave him.Â
Ashes. Bloodied, dead ashes.Â
***
Joel and Ellie have fought their way through a blizzard. Heâs surprised heâs still upright, but he saw bodies hanging in the stable and he canât collapse now. Not for Ellie, and not for you. This community is built on something worse than infected or fascism, and when he found your jacket, your backpack, in that same room as the corpsesâŚÂ
He canât see anything but red and white.Â
Ellie stops behind him suddenly. âDid you hear that?â
âWhat?â He catches his breath, looking around. Thereâs a long building close by, but he hasnât seen any movement yet.Â
A scream rents through the air, and he knows itâs you. His heart picks up, stomach plummeting as he runs around to find the entrance. And there you are, collapsing out of the doorway.Â
He says your name as he catches your wrist, and you instantly cower away, screaming. âPlease, no! Please, donât!âÂ
Heâs never heard you beg for anything before, and his world tilts on its axis. What the fuck have they done to you?
âBaby, itâs me!â He draws you close, cupping your jaw with his palms. Your eyes are haunted, face pale, and thereâs blood. So much blood. Youâre still fighting him, pushing on his chest, and he stumbles back. âItâs me. Look at me. Itâs me, darlinâ. Itâs Joel!â
Your breaths are ragged as realisation finally dawns across your features. âJoel,â you whisper.Â
âItâs me,â he says again, eyes filling with tears.
Your gaze moves to Ellie, and only then do you crumple. He catches you just before you fall to your knees, straining against his injury. âOh, baby. Oh, baby girl,â he murmurs into your hair. âIâm here now. Iâm here now. Youâre okay.â
Sobs wrack through you and he wraps his arms around you, holding on so tight he worries he might hurt you. But you clutch his shoulders just as hard, fingernails digging through his coat. You shake beneath him, and his own tears drip onto his cheeks. He pulls away quickly to look you up and down. Blood streaks through your hair.
âWhere are you hurt, baby? Tell me where it hurts.â
You shake your head. âI⌠I donât know. I donât know, Joel. I donâtâŚâ
Itâs like youâre not even here with him, and he wants to break. But he has to stay upright for you. He has to be strong for you. He shrugs his coat off quickly and puts it around you, catching sight of your reddened wrists as you adjust the collar. Those bastards tied you up. Hatred drowns him, and he looks at the building you emerged from only to find orange flames flickering in the window. It must have been you, he knows, and he can at least feel proud of you for that, but still, the thought of what they might have done...
âAlright. Come on. Letâs get out of here.â He pulls you to his chest, offering his other hand out for Elllie. She takes it, looking shaky as she carries both her bag and yours.Â
âThey were⌠They were eating people, Joel,â you say, voice thick and unrecognisable. âI just wanted to get medicine, and they took me. They took me. They were eating people and he was going to⌠He wantedâŚâÂ
âI know,â he murmurs, holding you tighter. âI know.â
You stop without warning. âThey said they had medicine. You⌠We have to go back.â
âNo, no, hey.â He laces his fingers through yours. âWe ainât going back there for anything.â
âThe infectionââ you protest.
âLook at me. Iâm here. Iâm okay. I just needed to rest is all. We donât need any medicine now. We just need to get you somewhere safe.â His heart pangs. The fact youâve been through hell and are still willing to go back to help him⌠sometimes he wishes you werenât so damn selfless. He should have been the one protecting you today. Itâs his fault youâre here. His fault youâre hurt.Â
You scrape your hair back and then, looking at your shaky fingers, seem to finally see all the blood. âHis blood is in my hair.â
He can at least be relieved it isnât your own, but the look on your face⌠heâs never seen so many scars written in one expression.Â
âI need to get it out. I needâŚâ
âWeâre gonna. Weâre gonna help you clean up soon, okay?â He tucks your hair away, lost, because he doesnât know how to do anything else. Doesnât know how to make it all go away. âIâm so sorry, baby.â His voice cracks.
Your chest heaves with a stifled sob as you rub your hands and look out towards the lake. âOh, god.â
Joel closes his eyes, wrought with regret. At his side, Ellie turns her gaze to the floor. Itâs his worst fear come true. The reason heâd tried to get Tommy on board with taking Ellie the rest of the way.Â
Heâd failed again. Was always failing.Â
All he can do is hold you close as you fall apart.
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joel miller x thigh riding (bonus points if he's a touch mean, just the tiniest touch, but like the kind of mean that comes off more of a degrading praise yaknowyaknow)
-ËË đđđđđđđđ ËË
â pairing: Joel Miller x f!Reader
â word count: 1k
â warnings: thigh riding, spoilt orgasms, playful degradation. 18+, you nasties. More of my absolutely filthy bullshit xoxo
joel miller masterlist || main masterlist
âCome on; you can do better than that.â
Joelâs arms rest over the sofa, hands dangling at the wrist as he watches you struggle with a flat expression. His eyebrow cocks slightly when he hears you whimper, and you swallow back your noises for fear of his cold observations.
Youâre trying. Itâs so hard. Youâre grinding your swollen clit across the denim of Joelâs jeans, and your toes donât quite meet the floor where your panties lay discarded and forgotten. The burn in your hamstrings leans more towards cramping, and you feel tears prickle in your eyes.
Itâs been so close you could almost grasp it. Each time your orgasm was within reach, the swell of arousal blooming through your abdomen, your hips would stutter, or youâd lose your balance slightly.
His worn denim is stained midnight blue by the slick you had smeared across the fabric in your desperate attempts to cum. Joel appears unphased by the filth; his illegible gaze focused on your face instead.
He pushes off the sofa with his elbows, sitting forward ever so slowly and watching your lip tremble. It feels so good, the friction of the cotton against your throbbing clit. Burning white-hot at the base of your spine, each roll of your hips surges it forward and itâs almost painful. Youâre suffocating.
Joelâs expression is entirely blank, but his tawny eyes are hawk-like, observing each tremor of your legs as you struggle to support yourself while chasing your orgasm. Your pussy clenches as you gaze right back at him, eyelids heavy and chest heaving from your exertions.
Itâs there again- itâs melting through you, squeezing around nothing as your slick leaks down the inside of your own thighs. You whimper, mouth hanging open as you uptick the speed of your sloppy grinds- he can surely hear how wet you are, and youâd be mortified if it wasnât for the bright flare that bursts forward. Itâs there- itâs the-
Joel raises his thigh up cruelly, and your balance slips. You cry out, toes on your left foot bumping the floorboards as your hands fly out to stabilise yourself. The fabric of his T-shirt wrinkles under your tight grip, and you let out a pained gasp of his name.
A tear drips from your lashes as your impending climax plummets away from you. Youâre breathing hard, lungs practically vibrating from the burn of needing oxygen, and a panting breath bleeds into a wail of despair at how quickly your hard-worked flame dissipates into dull embers.
âAre you cryinâ? Hmm?â Joel speaks evenly, as though a naked, pretty girl isnât using his fucking thigh to get off. His question has a lilt of a mocking tone, teasing you and the degrading position youâre in. âNeedy thing.â
Embarrassing. Itâs humiliating the way your eyes roll back at the sound of his gruff Texan accent. Itâs gravelly, and it rolls down your spine like warm honey.
Joel stares back at you, awaiting an answer with an expectant curve of his brow. Synapses in your brain misfire, and you canât seem to work your dry mouth into the shape of the word âyesâ, so you offer him a meek nod of your head. More tears stream down your cheeks, collecting at your chin and dripping down onto his lapâanother wet stain to add to his collection.
âYou poor thing,â he hums, brushing his knuckles over your cheekbone to wipe away the wetness. Absolutely wrecked, you lean into his touch in search of any affection. A quiet, submissive noise bubbles in your throat, and his top lip pulls up ever so slightly at the sight of you chasing any form of caress.
Twisting his wrist, he grabs ahold of your chin with his palm. You gasp as he pushes his fingertips into the soft flesh of your cheeks, smushing them together so your lips purse comically. âThereâs no shame in askinâ for help.â
This time itâs playful, the tone of his drawl. Heâs hinting, alluding to taking over and putting you out of your misery. Heâs known this whole time that youâd need him. He ruined you, rewired your brain-body connection, so it was forever missing a final piece.
You couldnât cum without him anymore.
His suggestion sparks your dying embers alight once more, the heat bursting through you when his eyes flick down to the naked junction of your thighs. They spasm beneath his intense gaze, like the look alone was enough to stimulate your poor, abused clit.
You open your mouth to beg, to fucking prostrate yourself in front of him and plead for mercy, but he drowns your words with the shocked moan he rips from you when he begins bouncing his heel off the floor.
Joelâs vigorously bobbing thigh feels like a vibration against your sensitive clit, and you practically crumple inwards at the sensation. Mind-numbing bliss rocks through you, and you let out a filthy, disgusting groan.
âOh, just look at that,â He taunts you, knowing damn well he could have gifted this to you before you had exhausted yourself. âThatâs it, ainât it?â
Slamming so hard across your ribs that it almost bursts out of the gap between the bones, your heart somersaults when he works his palms onto your thighs. Joelâs fingers squeeze at the flesh that creases at the junction of your hips, and the image of his vaguely amused expression blurs when tears sting your eyes once more.
âUh-Oh fuck, oh Joel pl-please⌠Please! Please, I ca-aha- I canât-â you babble, the pitch in your voice rising to a squeak as he continues to bounce against your tortured cunt.
âYou can,â is all he prompts, gazing at you with this look he reserved only for the victims of his brutal survival instinct. Twisting the knife, going in for the kill. Your orgasm flares so hot between your thighs that you swear it burns a hole through you.
âYou can, youâll feel so much better. Go on, sweetheart. Cum for me and Iâll give you another.â
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They have got to kiss at that bbq oh my gawd
Texas Heat | Joel x Reader Series
Chapter 3 - Coffee and Confessions
Series masterlist
Chapter Summary: You get a job at a coffee shop. It just happens to be across the street from where Joel's working a construction job. Later, things heat up when Joel drops round to pick up Sarah.
Rating: Teen (for now)
Tags/warnings: slow burn, eventual smut, age difference (reader is 25, Joel is 37), AU! no outbreak, porn with plot, a lot of sexual tension in this chapter.
Word Count: 2.8k
Taglist: @mysterialee @amyispxnk
You wake late the next morning, head filled with half-remembered dreams about warm arms and a solid, broad chest. The mid-morning sun is already streaming through the bedroom curtains, and you can hear Connie downstairs, pots and pans clashing together as she finishes making breakfast.
Youâre halfway down the stairs when she appears at the bottom, clutching a torn-out sheet of note paper which she holds out to you.
âI know you mentioned youâd like to get a part time job,â she says as you reach the bottom step, âso I called around a few places. Thereâs a coffee shop in town who are looking for new staff. This is the number, if youâre interested.â
She hands you the paper and beckons you into the kitchen, where there are fresh eggs and toast and a stack of steaming hot pancakes. You load up your plate with food and slide onto one of the bar stools at the kitchen counter. Connie whistles as she starts washing the dishes. Youâre halfway through your breakfast when she turns back to you and wags a finger as though sheâs just remembered something.
âThe Cuthberts are having a barbeque this weekend, for the neighbourhood,â she says, âthey live a few houses down. Youâre invited, of course.â
âSounds good,â You say, immediately wondering if Joel will be there.
âTheyâve got a pool, so make sure youâve got some swimwear.â Connie adds, and, like a teenager with a crush, you canât help the blush that settles in your cheeks at the thought of Joel in swimwear, wet hair swept back off his forehead and curling at his ears.
Trying to distract yourself, you examine the number for the cafĂŠ Connie gave you. The job sounds good, so when youâve finished your breakfast, you pull out your phone and call them.
*****
Three hours later and youâre hopping off a bus in Cedar Park, trying to remember the directions Connie gave you. You find your way, eventually; the coffee shop is a couple of blocks from the bus stop. Itâs a pretty nice area, sun-bleached grass lining the wide streets made up of modern shops and restaurants opposite a community college. Inside, welcomed by the dark wood floor and familiar smell of coffee, you feel instantly at home; youâve done barista work before back in England, in between classes and during the summer.
âAha,â a woman behind the counter says as you introduce yourself, âfresh meat.â
Sheâs attractive; mid-forties, maybe, with thick blonde hair tied up in a spotless bun and a pristinely made-up face. A badge on her polo shirt tells you sheâs Gina, the manager. She hands you an apron and tells you to make her a coffee. A younger girl â probably twenty, twenty-one, with a name badge that says âDianaâ in bubble writing â gives you a grin and offers to help.
And so the rest of the afternoon passes in a blur of grinding and brewing and steaming. The cafĂŠ is busy throughout the day thanks to its prime position opposite the community college. You get to meet an array of students and professors, and although you feel a pang of envy as you watch younger, fresh-faced students settle themselves at tables to sit and write papers, you enjoy the routine and hum of the barista work.
Youâre just finishing up when the bell above the door tinkles. Ginaâs voice immediately greets the newcomer, and you almost splutter at the sudden enthusiasm lacing every one of her words, the slightly over-the-top, sickly sweet quality that has entered her previously no-nonsense tone. Curious about who is causing your new manager to turn into a simpering dolt, you look up.
Itâs Joel, of course.
Joel, in his toolbelt and faded jeans and tight t-shirt. His hair is slicked back with sweat, and there are flecks of plaster on his tanned skin and splatted down his toned arms. Your heart stutters â actually stutters â as though this is a cheap cheesy romcom and heâs the romantic lead. Ginaâs batting her eyelashes at him and heâs grinning lopsidedly at her, all southern charm and polite gentleman. Diana shoots you a look from where sheâs cleaning tables in the corner, grinning.
Joel doesnât see you immediately â youâre mostly hidden from his view by the coffee machine youâd been cleaning when he came in â but jealously rises up in your chest when he laughs at something Gina says, at the way he leans against the counter to talk to her, knee popped out, one hand resting on the top of his toolbelt. Itâs maddeningly attractive â heâs maddeningly attractive â and you think of how he looked standing so close to you yesterday, the way the heat of his body rolled off him and his scent: wood chippings and soap and something uniquely him.
Finally, Gina stops flirting for long enough to take his order, and his eyes flick up as she passes the receipt with the coffee order to you (americano, no cream). You step out from behind the machine, smiling at him politely, and he does something of a double take.
âHey.â You say as you crank ground coffee into the filter basket.
âHi.â He gives you a smile â warmer than the one he offered Gina, you think smugly â and asks, âwhatâre you doinâ here?â
You point at the apron youâre wearing, at the handwritten name tag, âAs of about three hours ago, I work here.â
âAnd howâs that going for you?â
Itâs almost criminal how he can make such a simple, inoffensive question sound so intimate, so flirtatious.
âIt picked up significantly in the last few minutes,â You say, holding his warm gaze and biting the side of your mouth to suppress a grin.
He flushes a little, caught off guard, and you push on, not wanting to leave the sentence hanging awkwardly between you, aware of Ginaâs presence a few feet away, âHow about you? What brings you to this side of town?â
He points vaguely behind him to where the community college is, ââm working on a project across the road at the moment. Big expansion.â
You try to eke out making the coffee for as long as you can, taking care to clean the filter after each shot fills the cup, keeping your eyes on Joel as he explains about the job. Heâs easy to talk to. He asks how youâre finding the job, if youâve done barista work before, and when you answer he really listens, leans in and keeps his eyes right on yours, like youâre the only person in the world whoâs interesting. Itâs dizzying and electrifying. The fact that Gina is hovering in the background â clearly keen to butt in and join the conversation but not getting a chance as Joel asks you question after question â makes it all the more intoxicating.
After several minutes you push the finished coffee across the counter to him. He wraps a hand around it, his thick fingers and large palm making the cup look tiny.
âThanks, darlinââ He says, raising the cup to his lips and taking a sip. âIâd better head back, but Iâll see you around, Iâm sure.â
âYeah,â You say, then, remembering, ask, âoh â are you going to the Cuthbertâs barbeque this weekend?â
âSâlong as I can get this plastering finished by Friday.â He replies, and then heâs taking long strides away from you, pushing the door open and stepping through it.
Immediately, Gina is all over you.
âYou know him?â She asks, sidling up to you and leaning on the counter conspiratorially.
âHe lives next door,â You explain, wiping down the coffee machine absentmindedly, still watching Joelâs broad back as he jogs across the road back towards the college.
âYou lucky thing!â Gina exclaims. âHeâs been coming in regularly the last couple of weeks, but Iâve never managed to get his name. Or his number.â She gives you an over-the-top wink with this last and you force a polite smile, wiping the milk steamer perhaps a little harder than necessary.
âCan we agree,â Diana says later that evening, as you both wind your way to the bus stop from the cafĂŠ, âthat Gina is gagging for it.â
You laugh and Diana bumps against your shoulder, her own laugh high and clear against the hum of the traffic. It feels nice to be hanging out with someone whoâs not related to you or thirteen years old or the object of an intense crush. And Diana is quick to laugh and easy to talk to. Her company makes the homesickness for your friends dull a little.
âNo but seriously,â she says as you reach the bus stop, âIâm gay and even I can tell that Joel guy is hot. You sleeping with him?â
âWhat? No.â A pause as Diana raises a single eyebrow at you, and then you add, âI mean, I want to, but I havenât. As of yet.â
This sends you both into another round of giggles as you flop down onto a bench.
âYou think heâs into you too?â Diana asks when youâve got your breath back.
âI think so, but itâs hard to tell. A couple of times Iâve thought heâs flirting with me, but then Iâll say something back or he realises whatâs happening and itâs like he⌠panics.â
You tell her about last night, about how he looked at you in the half-light of the living room doorway, about the way he suddenly backed off but then sent a text asking you to come back again next week.
Diana shrugs, âMaybe heâs just shy?â
âYeah, maybe.â You let your gaze drift to the row of shops opposite the bus stop, think about Joelâs face earlier when you told him heâd made your day better, about the blush that coloured his tanned face.
âYou know what youâve got to do, right?â Diana says then, her blue hair almost purple in the fading sunlight.
You roll your eyes, grin, ask, âWhat?â
âWell, if he turns up at this barbeque you mentioned in the cafĂŠ, youâre gonna have to flirt your ass off.â
âOh, God.â
Diana cackles as the bus pulls up, and you bury your face in your hands.
*****
Joel works late the next two nights. You know because Sarah comes round both evenings and leaves only when his work truck pulls up onto their drive, at gone nine both Thursday and Friday. You help her out with maths homework, show her how to do differential equations without having to resort to tears, which proves popular.
âUsually,â she declares on Friday, as you sit at the kitchen bench while Danny feeds Nana in the lounge and Connie takes the trash out, âitâs very boring here. But since you came, itâs about a million times better. Even with the math.â
âEspecially with the maths.â You reply, grinning, and she rolls her eyes.
Connie bustles back into the kitchen, wiping her hands on her apron.
âI think your daddyâs home, Sarah.â She says as she comes in.
Thereâs a tap on the front door as she says it. You rise from the bench, brush cookie crumbs from your jeans and make your way down the hall. The silhouette framed by the glass of the door is broad and tall, and your stomach does a strange little jolt as you step towards it.
Joelâs face is drawn when you open the door, the bags under his eyes accentuated by the porch lights, the lines on his tanned forehead deep. Heâs in his work clothes, as usual. The tool belt is off, though, which is strangely a disappointment.
âHey,â you say grinning, and he smiles back, his tired eyes creasing at the corners.
âHi, darlinâ. Is my kid here, by any chance?â
âShe is indeed. Sheâs just packing up her things.â
He nods, and you take in the sag in his shoulders, the yawn that suddenly stretches his mouth.
âYouâre working too hard.â You say, and he chuckles.
âBeen tryna finish this plastering, because someone wants me to go to a barbeque.â He quips, grinning, and you feel yourself blushing.
âDid you finish it?â
He holds his hands out to his sides, lets you take in the beige splodges that cover his jeans, the dust that coats his t-shirt, the caked soles of his large work boots.
âReckon most of itâs on me, but thereâs enough on the walls to do the job too.â
âI assume youâll be wearing this outfit tomorrow, too?â You say, laughing as he tries and fails to brush off a particularly well-dried patch of plaster from the leg of his jeans.
âOh, âcourse.â
Sarah appears at your side, Connie behind her. She tucks an arm around your waist and you slip yours over her shoulder.
âWe did differential equations.â She says proudly, and Joel smiles at her.
âMight as well have done Greek for all that means to me, baby girl.â He says, âCâmon, letâs get you to bed.â
âOh, your lawn mowerâs in the garage, Joel.â Connie says, as Sarah hops out of the front door and starts down the porch steps. âI wouldnât ask you to move it now, only Danny wants the space for the beer cooler for tomorrow.â
âNo worries,â Joel says, âIâll get it. Sarah, go on home and open the garage up.â He tosses her a bunch of keys.
âI can open up our garage,â You offer, taking the keys from Connie as she scrabbles to change her slippers, gripping the door handle and wobbling precariously.
âThank you, dear.â She says, sighing and straightening up.
Outside, you press the key into the garage door and let it swing open. Joel stands by, grabs the top of the door as it swings open, lets it gently rise the last couple of inches. The movement pulls the top of his shirt up, revealing his stomach, the dark hairs the trace a path down below the waistband of his jeans. You swallow, avert your eyes a few seconds too late, straight up into his face. Heâs smiling cockily, hand still up on the open garage door.
âConcentrate, darlinâ,â He says, and the Southern drawl of it goes straight to you core, has you pressing your thighs together, heat building in your belly.
âI think the mower is just over- ugh, what the fuck!â You bat at the cobweb that youâve just walked straight into, spluttering and clawing at it, dragging it off of your face.
Joel lurches forward in a split second, panicked by your outburst, then, realising whatâs happened, falls back and starts laughing.
âDonât laugh!â You say, pulling long silky threads from your face. âItâs all over me!â
âHere,â Joel steps toward you again, raises a hand, brushes a single fingertip over your forehead, pulling one of the webâs tendrils away from your skin.
âThanks,â You say, suddenly stilling, letting your own hands fall, leaning into his touch.
âThereâs some in your hair.â
âCan you?â
âOh, uh, yeah.â
He reaches up, threads a hand into the front of you hair and combs through it. Heâs so gentle it almost makes you whimper, his fingertips just brushing your scalp, side of his thumb barely tracing the side of your jaw, down to your neck. You feel goosebumps erupt in the wake of his hand. Heâs looking at you â at your hair, his eyes wide and serious, mouth slightly open. You watch his arm, watch the muscles shift in his bicep as he moves his hand back through your hair, pulling the last of the cobweb out. He slows as he reaches the ends, lets his little finger glide almost imperceptibly under your chin, lifting your face delicately so that youâre looking right at him.
His pupils are blown wide in the dim light of the garage, that same look on his face as he had in the doorway of the lounge a few nights ago. He moves his hand from your face, hesitates, closes it into a fist by your shoulder and then sighs, a resigned, drawn out sigh. Before you can speak heâs pushing his hand back into your hair, caressing your jaw, drawing your face up, towards his lips, which are parted slightly, plump and beautiful. Youâre inches from him, your breath mingling, his eyelashes brushing his cheeks as he leans down to meet you in the middle.
âDad?â
You spring apart at the sudden sound of Sarahâs voice. Youâre both flustered; Joelâs cheeks are ruddy and you can feel your own burning scarlet.
âComing, weâre coming.â He says, turning from you to Sarah, who steps round the driveway into the entrance of the garage.
Joel steps past you to the mower, lifts it up easily in one arm and carries it back towards his daughter. He turns as he reaches her, looks you up and down in a way that makes you suddenly hot all over, his eyes sparkling with something deliciously dark.
âIâll see you tomorrow, darlinâ.â He says, and then heâs gone again, and youâre left alone with a thumping heart and a deep, unsatiated hunger.
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Kiss of Purple, Blue and Green
Summary: After a drunken night together, Arthur sees a love bite on your neck and mistakens it for a bruise.
Warnings: bit of angst and a whole lot of fluff, suggestive themes
Word count: 2,361
Ask and you shall receive. Here's a one shot of the scenario I posted a few days ago ;)
Check this out on A03: https://archiveofourown.org/works/54854827
Last night was still a bit of a blur, pieces of it manifesting disorderly, like trying to fit puzzle pieces into the wrong spots. All you knew for certain was two things: the pounding headache that was making you wince at each sound, and⌠that you and Arthur Morgan had been up to no good.
You shivered in the cold morning air, pulling the blanket over your trembling shoulders as you sat down in front of the last embers of the campfire, a steaming cup of coffee in your hands to warm you up. You could tell the sweet nectar was doing its job, as you were feeling more awake already. You thanked the Lord for coffee.
But you cursed him out the very next second, because you felt someone sitting next to you and you froze, your entire body stiffening. It wasnât nice company.
âHello there, cowpoke!â The mustached man roared, sending a wave of pain directly to your already aching temples.
âMicah⌠not nowâ you begged, features scrunched up in pain. Turning away from him, you downed the rest of the coffee in silence.
But you knew Micah. He wasnât resisting the opportunity to have his fun with you in one of your rare vulnerable moments. He spun you around rudely, and grinned under his blonde stache when you recoiled and slapped his filthy hands away.
âGeez, does the liquor at least make you gentler? Iâd have to ask Mr. Morgan about that!â he sneered loudly, prompting you to look around, alarmed.
âWhat do you want?â you hissed, moving in closer to shush him. Micahâs expression relaxed.
âMe? Oh, nothing, nothing at all!â he got up and paced in front of you, grabbing his belt. âIf you want the whole camp knowing what you got up to, that is.â
His stupid, cocky smile made you want to punch it off his face, but you tried to keep your composure. Micah was Dutchâs second in command now, you didnât think it smart to attack him like that. Inside, anger was boiling in your chest, filling your gaze with venom. The mere thought of him knowing what you did (something that was nebulous even to you, and so very private) made your skin crawl. Was he in Valentine too yesterday? Did he spy on yâall?
The man approached you, lowering his voice condescendingly. This would stay between the two of you, if⌠you did something for him. You were sitting there, trying to interpret his ominous request, you heart beating steadily faster as you felt cornered by this damned fool.
âWhat is it?â you sighed, wondering if being blackmailed by Micah was worth it, if it meant your foolish actions remained concealed.
This time, he got so close you could feel his foul breath on your nose. You grimaced and tried to suppress a gag. Man, he was disgusting, both inside and out. He cupped your chin, squeezing it firmly. He had just parted his lips to speak when you heard loud, thundering footsteps get closer and closer to your position. Next thing you knew, Micah was tumbling backwards, narrowly avoiding the campfire.
âDONâTCHA DARE TOUCH âEM, YOU PIECE OF SHIT!â
You tilted your head upwards in shock. There he was, the man you spent the night with; Arthur Morgan, a man you knew for years and who you never saw lose his temper was there, fists clenched and a murderous rage obscuring his usually sweet blue eyes. A man you had witnessed murder, steal and intimidate, yet his violence always felt calculated, measured in a way, but not this time.
And it was gone in seconds. He turned to you, his fury fizzled away into a worried expression as he asked you if you were okay. You nodded, dazed, still processing what had happened.
You both glanced at Micah, who was still trying to regain his balance after the fall, wiping away the mud and grass from his pants. His expression was his usual, douchy one, but you saw the genuine panic and the fear in his eyes when he was on the ground: he was scared of Arthur. It was clear as day, from the way he kept a safe distance from the both of you, his wounded ego showing. Arthur put on his intimidating gaze and scowled at him until he disappeared into his tent.
âSo, what did the bastar-â he interrupted himself, noticing something on your neck. There it was again, the rage. You saw his face become completely red with anger as he gently hovered his fingers on your bruise, the contrast between the two baffling. You tried to think of some words to defuse him, but before you had a chance to say anything, he shot up and started yelling at the whole camp.
âOkay, which one of ya bastards did this?! Jusâ lemme find outâŚâ Arthur snarled, quite literally growling the threat like a rabid animal. He frantically looked around for the culprit, only finding tired eyes and people still in their night clothes blinking at him, incredulous and concerned at his unusual display of anger.
âArthurâŚâ you tried to get his attention, but his mind was miles away from you. He wanted justice for whoever dared to put their filthy hands on your precious skin. He was pacing menacingly, glaring at the other men in the gang.
âCome out, ya goddamn coward!!â he shouted, spelling the word âgoddamnâ even more harshly and slowly than usual. Boy, was he angry⌠he was starting to scare you, too. You sat there, frozen, pondering what to do.
Javier, Sean and Bill exchanged confused looks, standing each in front of their tents. Sean was the only one who darted a look at you, and you widened your eyes at him, shaking your head in disbelief. But Arthur interpreted that differently and marched towards the Irishman threateningly.
âIâm watching you, boahâ he threatened, but Sean was difficult to intimidate, and kept that dumb smirk on his face. The older man grabbed him by the collar of his shirt, but Sean assured him he didnât know what he was talking about.
âLeave the boy alone, Arthurâ Javier intervened in his usual pacifying tone. âBesides, wasnât you out with them last night?â
Arthur kept his grip on Sean, but his expression softened a bit, his scrunched eyebrows trying to remember the events of last night. Little by little, it came back to him: you had been out on a mission, robbing a stagecoach, and then⌠he vaguely recalled stopping at the saloon in Valentine.
He let go of the kid and you sighed in relief. You approached him, grabbed his arm and walked him to the edge of camp, where you two could have a private conversation.
You thought you were hiding it well, but Arthur still noticed the fright in your eyes. He realized he had gone too far.
âIâm so sorry I scared ya, darlinââŚâ he apologized, his tone softer than youâve ever heard it, his eyes firmly on his feet. âThat was way outta line⌠itâs jusââŚâ he gestured aimlessly, struggling to find the words.Â
You took one of his hands in yours, gently kissing his bruised knuckles. You got was he was trying to say. When it came to you, all rationality went out of the window. He was sweet on you for a while now, and he was incredibly protective⌠this was just the first time youâd seen his feelings in action.
âI know. If someone hurt you, Iâd probably do the sameâ you said gently, and his face relaxed into a smile.
You pointed at your neck, smiling in amusement. âThis, however? All you.â you laughed, and then cracked up some more at Arthurâs sheer panic.
âDid⌠did I hurtcha?!â he gasped. He couldnât stand the idea, not even for a second. It would destroy him if it was true. Heâd never forgive himself.
âNo, you fool!â you elbowed him in his ribs and explained that that was no bruise. It was a love bite.
âA⌠what?â he repeated, blinking rapidly. He never heard of such thing. You tried to explain that when he kissed your neck, he did it so⌠fervently, that he left a small mark just under your jawbone.
âOh.â His cheeks lit up in a bright, tomato red and his pupils dilated in realization. You two kissed last night? He was starting to remember nowâŚ
The stagecoach robbing went exactly as planned. Of course it did: you and Arthur were a great team, excellent criminal minds that foresee every possible outcome and handle everything expertly. You made off with quite a lot of money and jewelry, so you both decided to celebrate the successful heist with a few drinks in Valentine.
âJust a couple, we still have to go back to camp to deposit the lootâ you reminded your partner, putting a coin on the counter and gesturing towards the bartender.
âOf course, no crazy business tonightâ the cowboy promised, downing his first shot.
Of course, you were both full of shit. The drinks kept coming, and coming, and coming, until the next thing you remember was you waking up in Arthurâs tent, his arms wrapped around you.
And there was a room⌠it had a bed, so maybe it was at the saloon?
âDid⌠did we share a room at the saloon?!â you asked Arthur, alarmed. He was staring straight ahead, hand on his chin, as the scene revealed itself to him.
He saw your exposed neck, head tilted backwards into the pillow as he peppered kisses all over your collarbone and chest, stopping at the edge of your jawline to suck on the tender skin that bruised so quickly, so easily. He heard your moans and his name repeated over and over in delight, as you went deeper and deeper, the friction of skin against skin delicious and exasperating at the same time.
He felt breathless now, his face burning unbearably in what? Arousal? Shame? Maybe both. He didnât dare to look you in the eye, but seeing him that flustered was enough to prove to you what had happened. You did drunkenly sleep together in that room in Smithfieldâs saloon. Some recollections came back to you, making your stomach flutter and your abdomen warm with desire. You saw Arthur in his entirety, remembering his touch on your bare skin, his tongue on your neck and chest, the hair a tangled mess that covered his face. His figure revealed itself in all its vulnerability, the mask of tough outlaw crumbling to reveal a tender, passionate lover that, even in his inebriated state, made sure to put your pleasure first. You silently watched him now, trying to piece together the two sides of him: the side that you always knew, and the new one that opened up to you last night.
Arthur looked back at you, interpreting your surprise as hesitation.
âYou regret that, donâtcha?â he asked, an almost imperceptible note of sadness in his tone. âI do too, in a way.â
You were not sure whether to take that as an insult. âWhat do you mean?â
Arthur walked towards you, taking your hands in his. He lowered his voice into a whisper that covered you in goosebumps. His expression was hard to interpret.
âI regret not making our first time special.â He rubbed his thumb on your hand lovingly, smiling at you. There they were, the eyes you always knew, those breathtaking blues you would lose yourself in every day.
You tucked a hair strand behind his ear and lingered there, caressing his scruffy cheek. Arthur leaned right into your hand, melting under your touch.
âOh, Arthurâ you smiled at him, radiant. âIt was special, because it was you.â You grabbed his collar and gently pulled him closer, then put your lips on his for a brief, chaste kiss.
âNah, I couldâve done it right for yaâ he shook his head, as always rejecting the compliment. One of these days you had to make him accept one, you promised yourself.
âNow Iâm curious. What would you have done differently?â
Arthur took a moment to think. âWell⌠for starters, I wouldnât have been that drunk!â
You chuckled. âThen, Iâd book a nice bath for the two of us, with some good wineâŚâ as he talked, he fidgeted with the collar of your shirt, resting his hands on your chest. âThen weâd have some dinner, maybe a walk⌠and then weâd go back to our room, to sleep in a nice, comfortable bed.â
âThat does sound niceâŚâ you remarked, almost disappointed that it wasnât how it actually went. âAlthough thatâs where it did end. In that nice bed.â You joked, making the man grin.  âI guess youâre rightâ he laughed, pulling you closer. Â
âBesides,â you continued, lowering your tone, âthereâs always the next time, yâknowâŚâ you purred, putting a lot on emphasis on the word ânextâ and giving him a playful smile. Arthurâs eyes lit right up, and he licked his lips.
âSâthat so? And when is that?â he asked, his voice so deep it boomed inside his chest, so filled with desire that the warmth in you lower belly returned unannounced. Before you could answer, he was kissing you again, taking his time with it. His stubble tickled your skin, so thick and rough compared to his soft lips. You put your hands around his neck, one cupping his nape as he pushed you against the tree, lost in his affection for you.
âGet a room, you two!â you both jolted at the voice, realizing you werenât as well hidden from the group as youâd thought. You smiled, embarrassed, watching Hosea wink at you as he walked away.
âWell, there goes our little secret, Arthurâ you exhaled, laughing nervously.
âA secret? Who do ya think is responsible for pairinâ us up on every damn mission?â the cowboy laughed, pointing his thumb at Hoseaâs back.
âCâmon, letâs go get some breakfast, darlinâ.â After placing a kiss on your forehead, Arthur took your hand as you both went back to the group, relieved to not have to hide your love anymore.
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THATS SO CUTE UGGGUH
Sweet, Domestic Life
this one's actually based off a lucid dream i had months ago and oh how i wish to be back there </3 so i decided to write a quick little one shot about it
pairing: Joel x Reader
summary: you and joel have a three year old daughter, and today is her birthday. the two of you are setting up for her party!
warnings: age gap between joel and reader, no specified age for reader, jackson!era, the daughter isn't named here bc i wanted it to feel a little more personal for the reader, but her nickname is Bug, you and Joel make out for a quick second, your child is a cock-block, reader is referred as mama.
w.c.: 1.2k
âşË°・ââąâŽËâ˝đźđâŻđđźâžËâŽâąâ・°Ëâş
Mermaid-Princesses.
That is the theme your three year old daughter had her little heart set on. And of course, Joel did everything in his power to make it happen because 'whatever daddy's girl wants, daddy's girl gets.' So now here you were, hunched over while holding a plastic tiara with pink, heart-shaped rhinestones in one hand, and trying to zip up the back of this corny little iridescent mermaid dress with the other- on a child that couldn't sit still for longer than a second.
"Bug, I need you to stop moving," You tell her as you followed her tiny steps, hand chasing the zipper as she toddled off. Joel sat on the couch, blowing up balloons and tying them off before bopping them elsewhere into the living room. He watched the two of you with a fond gleam in his eyes, chuckling under his breath as the girl argued incoherently, wanting to go play.
"W- hold on a sec, girlfriend." You huffed and placed your hands on your hips, peering down at her with a cocked brow, "I'm almost done."
"No, I play now." She spoke back immediately with a firm shake of her head and scampered off, tiny feet stomping against the hardwood floor. You sighed and threw your hands up before letting them drop back to your sides with a light smack.
Toddlers, man.
"She gets that from you," Joel commented, a smirk turning up one corner of his mouth as he tied off another balloon. "That 'tude. Just as sassy as her mama." He tossed the balloon into the air and smacked it in your direction.
With a quick titter, you reached out and tapped the bottom with the tiara, letting it hover for a second longer before hitting it to the ground with the rest. "Mm, you must be so happy." Your brows waggled teasingly with an imperceptible back-and-forth nod of your head.
Joel was silent for a beat, his heart leaping in his chest as he stared back at you. He thought about all he's lost, all he's gained, and where he's at right now. He never thought he'd have another kid after Sarah, let alone two. Life was currently really good for the older man. He swallowed the lump forming in his throat, gaze softening as he gave you the gentlest smile, "The happiest." He responded sincerely.
Your shoulders droop a bit with a fluttering feeling growing in your stomach. Then making your way towards him, you sat down and ran your fingers through the graying hair at the nape of his neck.
"I love you," With a murmur you lean in and press a delicate, chaste kiss to his cheek, only for him to return it by swiveling his head and cupping your jaw tenderly, kissing you slowly and passionately. Joel placed a big hand at the small of your back as he licked at your bottom lip before slipping it in for a deep, loving kiss; noses pressed against the others cheek as he wrapped another arm around you.
He pulled away, just enough to reply, "I love you," and crashed his mouth against yours once more.
Then your daughter came running back in, now holding a pair of pink plastic princess pumps, the face of Aurora- Sleeping Beauty- buttoned at the top in feathery down in her pudgy hands, "Mama, shoes."
Your lips part from Joel's with a wet 'smack' as you peer down at your kid, nodding vaguely with a smile, "Yeah, they are! You want mama to help?" You tentatively reach your hands out in an offering, but she quickly turned her body from you, hugging the toy shoes to her chest.
"No, I do'd it."
You giggled, finding her grammar mishap endearing. "Okay, you 'do'd' it, then."
She turned her back to the two of you and crouched down, carefully placing the items to the floor before standing upright again, teetering a bit and grasping Joel's knee for support. He held out his arms, spotting her as he arched his brows in light amusement.
"Y'got it?" He asked, head tilting while he watched his babygirl hike a leg up, struggling to find balance.
"No." She answered softly, lips thinning and brows furrowing with concentration. The shoes were certainly too big for her, you noticed, as she slipped one foot in and lifted the other to do the same.
"Y'want my help?"
"No."
Joel turned to you with a flat expression, eyes saying, 'I told you.'
Yeah, this was definitely your child.
Yet you shrug your shoulders dismissively, slipping the tiara into his hair, leaving it lopsided, "Here, hold that," you spoke and took the opportunity to finally get your daughter's dress zipped, careful to not snag her hair or undershirt into it.
"And she actually gets her stubbornness from you, by the way." You smoothed her sleeves out, working your way down to adjust the shimmery tail of her dress, tugging at the hem slightly while she got her other foot in the slipper, bending over to reach for a red balloon.
All he could do was hum in response, the corner of his mouth flitting up as he grabbed the inflated sack of rubber and handed it to her. She held it up over her head, the static electricity making her hair stand up.
When she finally got situated, Joel let his arms lower a bit as she turned, arms still over her head while her feet scuffled against the floor.
Your daughter's face beamed with delight as she looked between the two of you proudly.
"Lookit you!" Joel exclaimed, mirroring her expression. His palms then splayed under her armpits, and with a soft grunt he picked her up, placing her on his lap before smoothing her flyaways down. He plucked the tiara off his head and placed it on hers, adjusting it so it would sit right, "Daddy's li'l princess."
Her shoulders turned up, now holding the balloon in one pudgy hand while the other placed against her mouth with a scrunched nose and toothy smile as she giggled excitedly.
"More like daddy's li'l stinkbutt," Another voice entered. Ellie walked in, kicking a few balloons to the side with arms folded over her chest as she observed the little girl with a playful glint in her eyes. The comment didn't faze the toddler one bit; instead she lifted her feet, presenting them to Ellie.
"Bellie, shoes." Her voice squeaked, legs kicking and arms reaching out to be held. The oldest girl laughed quietly at the mispronunciation of her name and leaned down to pick her up from Joel's lap, hoisting her onto her hip with a soft bounce.
"I see that, Bug!" She began to walk off, continuing to hold the conversation. "You know what a princess needs? A knight," Her voice carried through the living room and down the hall.
"I'll protect you from dragons, and monsters, and weird men who want to court you-"
You chortled with a shake of your head, leaning into Joel's side, resting your head on his shoulder and run your hand between the spot on his shoulder blades. The two of you sat there, relishing in the family you've created. Even though life wasn't like it used to be, it was still a nice change of pace to what you've endured before.
Life was good.
âşË°・ââąâŽËâ˝đźđâŻđđźâžËâŽâąâ・°Ëâş
again, thank you, everyone whoâs shown me support and love on my last fics. iâm very grateful for every reblog and comment, please keep doing that. it makes me motivated to keep writing.
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âCause After MidnightâŚ
A/N: this idea came to be randomly yesterday morning and thus the brain rot began! Idk about yâall, but I would do ANYTHING for slumber party!Dieter đ¤ big thank you to @chronically-ghosted for sharing the brain rot cell with me this week! đŤĄ
~word count: 8.5k~ yeaaaah idk what happened!
Summary: a slumber party with your bestie Dieter Bravo, after midnight! What could possibly happen between the two of you?
Pairing | slumber party!dieter x best friend female!reader
Warnings: smut, fluff, a little sprinkle of angst, DUBIOUS CONSENT, mentions of alcohol and ouid smoking, infidelity (not by dieter) toxic relationship (Dieterâs ex) denial of feelings, secret pining, best friends to lovers?, pussy pronouns, domestic intimacy, mutual masturbation, masturbation with a shower head (iykyk), sexual tension, language, dirty talk, unprotected piv, aftercare, reader has no physical descriptions, readers nickname is bug, +18 minors dni!
Being Dieter Bravoâs best friend sinceâŚwell, forever, came with a long list of perks. Your favorite perk of all, you may ask? Getting to spend time with your best friend. Whether that was at his home, lounging side by side next to his inground pool, stumbling out of a DTLA nightclub, clammy hands entwined together as you head to the nearest street food cart ASAP (Dieter demands steak tacos when heâs wasted) or when you were his glittering gem on the red carpet, dodging the incessant questions from the red carpet waspsâI mean, interviewers asking you and Dieter if you were dating.
It was like clockwork, you and Dieter would look at one another, laugh and shake your heads in sync, âus, dating? No, you have it all wrong! Weâre simply just two besties that do everything together, donât get it twisted!â (So what if you and Dieter would sometimes get equally wasted in the club and drunkenly makeoutâŚand sometimes, while making out, he would grope your ass beneath your dressâyou were just friends! Best friends kiss like all the timeâŚright?)
Of course, Hollywood didnât buy it despite yours and Dieterâs repetitive denial, and the fact that Dieter was currently smitten with his girlfriendâwell, ex-girlfriend now. The tabloids spewed their cheap gossip, but your friendship with Dieter never soured.
You frequently slept over on the weekends he was home. It was your shared routine from Friday-Sunday (sometimes even Mondays), you and Dieter would get higher than two kites, cross off a few movies on your watch lists, paint together, and order takeout for every meal. Truthfully, it was fucking bliss.
This weekend, in particular, Dieter decided he wanted to have a whole ass slumber party. (Not nearly as extravagant as the princess diaries slumber party, or the Barbie movie) but Dieter knew how to throw a killer intimate slumber party. He invited all of his close, niche friends including you. He already had a whole array of different foods to munch on throughout the night so that no one would go hungry.
As always, Dieter was nearly glued to your side and if it were anyone else, or any other man for that matter, you would be annoyed, but when it came to Dieter, you shared your small bubble of space happily with him.
Everything was going swimmingly, until Dieterâs ex showed up uninvited. Dieter was in the whirlpool, wearing the tiniest swim trunks known to man. He had a beer in one hand while his other arm was resting along the outside of the hot tub. He was mid conversation, laughing about something one of his friends said before his eyes met yours when you appeared from the kitchen, a nervous look plastered on your face as you approached the hot tub.
âHey, Dee?..â you crouched down along the edge of the hot tub.
âYeah, bug?â He took a sip of his beer, brow cocking in curiosity. âWhatâs up? Why do ya look so worried?â
âOh, itâs nothing, Dee. Just uhâwell, your ex just sorta showed up uninvited. Sheâs in the kitchenââ
âWhat the fuck do you mean she just sorta showed up?! What the fuck.â He groaned, dragging his wet hand across his face, squeezing his eyes shut. âI reckon she just invited herself in, too?â
Your nod confirmed his suspicions. âUnfortunately she did. I told her she wasnât welcome, but she essentially told me to fuck off.â You stifled a laugh.
âYeah, well, sheâs never exactly been the type to respect boundaries.â He sighed and handed you his beer so that he could pull himself out of the hot tub. The swim trunks he was wearing quite literally left little to the imagination, and you swore that you caught a glimpse of his infamous package when he bent down and grabbed his towel to quickly dry off.
His hand gently brushed yours as he reached for his beer. âIâll deal with her. Not gonna let it spoil my night.â He gruffed out and draped the towel around his shoulders. âBe back in a jiffy, bug.â He winked and headed towards the sliding doors leading to the kitchen.
When he didnât return to the backyard in over 20 minutes, thatâs when you made the executive decision to see if he was okay. When you neared the front door, you could hear the distinct tone of Dieterâs voice through the thin glass and you caught a glimpse of him throwing his hands up in exasperation.
âYou canât just fucking show up here uninvited! Youâre not only trespassing, but youâre crossing a boundary! This is exactly why we broke up in the first place because youâre just so fucking clingy!â He yelled.
âOh, IâM THE CLINGY ONE?!â She laughed, jabbing her perfectly manicured finger directly into his bare chest. âSo, it has nothing to do with the fact that you spent more time with your best friend than with your girlfriend?! Donât you think thats a bit fucking weird, Dieter?!â
âOh, for fucks sakes! Here we go again! Donât you dare go bring her into this when sheâs done nothing wrong! So sorry that you felt like the attention I was giving you was inadequate! Guess that gave you just the right amount of ammo to cheat on me with MY fucking pilates instructor?! Dude, I canât even look the guy in the face anymore without wanting to rip his dick off, balls and all!â
âYES, because you left me with no other choice, Dieter! He gave me more attention than you ever have!â
âRight, sure! So instead of ohâI donât know, acting like a fucking normal person, you let your jealousy take front and center and cheat on me?! Why the fuck couldnât you just be like hey, Dieter! Iâm feeling under-appreciated in our relationship and Iâd like to talk about it in a healthy, productive way because I love and respect you as a person! I would have never fucking cheated on you, donât you get that?!â
âOkayâyouâre right! Iâm sorry that I wasnât mature, and Iâm sorry I cheated on you, Dieter. Iâm so sorry! Can we please justââ
He laughed, throwing his head back with his hands carding through his damp curls in disbelief. âYou have got to be shitting me! You just expect me to whatâtake you back after all of that?! Fuck you. I may be a stupid fucking actor, but Iâm not that stupid. Please, can you justâleave? I donât want to call the cops, but I will if I have to.â
âDieter, come on! Baby, please. Letâs just talkââ
âIâm not your baby.â He muttered and turned on his heel and walked back towards the front door. He really just wanted to bury his face in his hands and scream, but he was determined to not let her ruin his night. So, when he opened the door, and found you on the other side, he let out a visible sigh of relief. âWell, that was a crapshoot. Did ya hear any of it, bug?â He closed the door softly and made sure to lock it for good measure.
âYou okay, Dee? I heard the last bit of itâŚIâm sorry that you had to deal with that.â
âSâokay. Itâs done now and Iâm gonna try and not let it ruin the rest of the night. Thank you for checking in on me, bug. I appreciate it.â
âOf course, Dee. Everyone is still in the backyard. Wanna join them? Otherwise I was thinking maybe you and I can get high?â
He grinned at your suggestion, crossing his arms as he leaned against the doorjamb, âsay less.â
Thatâs how you found yourself in Dieterâs bedroom, sitting on the floor with his rolling tray in your lap while he was changing out of his too-tight swim trunks and into a pair of boxers that wereâŚequally as tight. You loved the way that his little bit of tummy pudge hung over the side of the boxer's waistband. What you wouldnât give to worship that tummy while he shoves hisâYou kept your eyes focused on plucking a few bud clusters and placing them in the grinder. His phone was charging next to yours on the nightstand. You had Spotify open on shuffle playing yours and Dieterâs favorite playlist. The song that was currently playing was After Midnight by Chappell Roan.
He plopped down beside you, gently grabbing the tray and placed it in his lap so that he could roll the actual joint. He used the front of his bed as a backrest as he opened up the grinder and carefully distributed the ground up herb into one of the papers.
âI seriously donât know how your dick can breathe in those tight fucking shorts, Dee.â you said with a playful edge to your tone as you let your head rest in the crook of his neck. He leaned into you too, naturally.
âThey are not that tight!â He scoffed and looked over at you with a playful grin on his lips. âMy dick can breathe in these perfectly fine, bug.â he retorted.
âYeah, okay, whatever you say.â
Comfortable silence washed over the two of you while he finished rolling up the joint, looking over at you expectantly as he sparked the end of it, inhaling with his cheeks slightly hollowed, âshould we have a full slumber party moment and paint our nails and do each other's makeup?â He asked softly, blowing the smoke upwards towards the ceiling and held the joint out to you between his pointer and middle finger.
âShut up. I canât believe you just brought that up because I was thinking the same exact thing!â You looked over at him In disbelief, reaching for the joint as your fingers briefly brushed against one another during the exchange. âI must have manifested this or something because I made sure to bring my nail polish this time!â
âJust start calling me Dieter the all knowing!â He chuckled, feeling the inhaled drug slowly send him into a relaxed state. He let his head comfortably rest against the back of the bed. âand I have my makeup that we can use! Think you can show me how to perfect the winged liner look? Iâm shit at doing it on myself.â He huffed.
âI am not gonna start calling you Dieter that all knowing! Thereâs no way in hell Iâm going to grant you all that power!â You nudged his shoulder gently with your own before you took a long drag from the joint, holding the smoke in your lungs before slowly exhaling it. âOf course I can help you with your eyeliner, Dee! Only if you let me pick out your nail color this time.â
âOkay, deal!â He was quick to respond with zero hesitation in his chipper tone.
So, after you each took a few more drags from the joint and your minds began to go hazy, Dieter lazily got up and walked into the en-suite to grab his bag of makeup from the bathroom cabinet. When he returned, you had grabbed your overnight bag and already had all of your nail products laid out.
âDamn, did ya bring your entire collection from home with ya?â He teased as he plopped down next to you. His movements were uncoordinated due to the drug coursing through his veins. He nearly fell into your lap, giggling and quietly apologizing as he sat back up. This was a normal occurrence for you and Dieter. Whenever the two of you would get high together, (which was frequent), you both became naturally affectionate and extremely touchy with one another. It was second nature, and something that neither you or Dieter ever thought about as being âweirdâ and not the norm for most platonic friendships.
âGo big or go home, right Dee?â You had already picked out a pretty sparkly blue polish for his nails and set it off to the side.
âAbsolutely, bug. Hey, can you do my makeup first, please?â He had his hands clasped in his lap, nervously twiddling his thumbs as if he was a child waiting to be reprimanded by his parents.
âOf course I can.â You said softly, and grabbed the makeup bag from his lap. âHey, are you okay?âŚâ
He sighed, squeezing his eyes shut momentarily and shook his head. âNo, not really. Iâm fucking pissed off about what happened down there with my ex.â
You nodded in understanding and stood up to grab one of his many pillows so that he would have something comfortable to lay against while you would do his makeup. âI gathered that.â
âThatâs because youâre always reading the room, bug.â He chuckled, grabbing the pillow from you so that he could place it under his back. Once he was situated, he patted his thighs, beckoning you to come sit in his lap. (Doesnât everyone straddle their best friend and do their makeup?)
âAm I?â You mused and wasted no time to straddle his hips, making yourself comfortable above him. He was looking up at you with that sparkle in his irises that only appeared around you. It was as if you were the reason why the sun shined, and the stars twinkled in the sky. You were too busy going through his bag of makeup to catch the look, and when your eyes did land upon his face, he looked like he was going through constricting emotions.
âYeah, youâre really good at doing that, yâknow?â He sighed, feeling his shoulders deflate and sink against the pillow.
âDo you want to talk about what happened, Dee?â
âYeah.â He nodded, letting his hands gently rest around your hips, thumbs stroking the sliver of skin visible under your shorts in a soothing figure eight motion. âI mean, who the fuck just shows up to someoneâs slumber party uninvited?â
âWell, sheâs never really respected your boundaries, has she? Remember when you forgot to leave your phone in your dressing room at the Oscars, and when you were reading out the nominees and she called you, despite knowing that you were at the Oscars?â You grabbed his little bottle of toner and a couple cotton rounds, softly telling him to close his eyes.
He closed his eyes, flinching slightly when the cool mist of the toner kissed his skin. He relaxed further into the pillows when you gently patted the toner into his skin with the cotton round. âYeah, that was a fucking disaster! I just remember going all red in the face and fearing that my career with the rest of the Hollywood assholes was over at that point.â
âIâm pretty sure she made that move out of spite, Dee. Yâknow, because you didnât ask her to be your plus one?â
He peeked one eye open to look up at you, âthatâs because youâve attended every single red carpet event with me, bug. ItâsâŚtradition.â (Yeah, sure it is, Dieter. Just tradition.)
âIâm not justifying her behavior by any means, but I can understand why she was upset that you invited your best friend over your girlfriend to the Oscars.â You set the bottle of toner down and grabbed his usual moisturizer and squirted a few pumps onto your fingers and rubbed it into his skin.
âYeah, I guess when you put it that way it does sound pretty fucked up huh? But I donât think I deserved to be cheated on.â His lips curved into a downwards pout, brows furrowed intently.
âOh, of course not, hun. Cheating is never justifiable.â You reassured him, reaching into the makeup bag and pulled out his primer, foundation and concealer. âDo you wanna do a full look or something on the more no makeup/makeup side?â
âSo then why did she try to justify her reason for cheating on me? Not only that, she tried to sweet talk her way back in towards the end of the conversation. Oh, Dieter, Iâm so sorry!â He scoffed, âshe even pulled the baby card on me! I know Iâm not the most emotionally intelligent individual 99% of the time, and Iâve struggled my whole life taking much of anything serious, but I still have a fucking heart despite what the tabloids gossip about.â He paused mid-venting, remembering what you had asked him, âsurprise me, bug.â
âShe pulled the baby card on you? What a fucking cunt move, honestly.â you shook your head. âDieter, you have one of the biggest hearts in all of Hollywood, hun. You just donât share it with everyone and thatâs okay. Those tabloids are a load of crap. I told you before that you have to stop feeding into their agenda. Itâs not worth it, Dieter.â
âExactly! It was a cunt move. And if I didnât realize my worth sooner, I probably would have fallen right back into a relationship with her again! You know what Iâm starting to believe? MaybeâŚI just have to accept the fact that no one is ever gonna love me.â
You let out a sigh, reaching back into the makeup bag and pulled out one of his glitter shadows to apply on his eyelids. He let out a content hum when your fingers began to gently card through his damp curls while your other fingers began to gently pat the shimmery shadow onto his closed eyelids. âDieter, donât you fucking start that shit and claiming that no one is ever going to love you.â
âWell, itâs true! I canât fucking hold a healthy relationship down to save my life! Iâm the laughing stock of Hollywood, days away from fucking relapsing, and no one is gonna give a shit!â
âDude, what are you talking about?â You fought the urge to laugh, not at him, of course, but at the situation at hand. âI love you, idiot. You are not the laughing stock of Hollywood, and you will not fucking relapse under my watch, Dieter.â
âBug, I know you love me, and I love you too! ButâŚthatâs different. What Iâm talking about is real, true loveâow!â He whimpered when you had accidentally poked his eye with your nail.
You werenât even paying attention when he started rambling about true love and that the way he loved you was completely differentâŚit stung and sent your heart straight through a shredder, and he had no idea!
âShit, Dee! Iâm so sorryâare you okay? My finger slipped.â Your palm came to rest around his scruffy jawline, leaning in close to make sure that you hadnât accidentally poked his eye out with your fingernail. Your warm breath gently fanned his face as he blinked a few times to surpass the dull sting he felt on his cornea.
âIâm okay, bug. But damn, girl! Are you trying to poke my eye out or something?â He joked, trying to relieve the palpable tension growing between the two of you.
You were quick to change the subject, feeling slightly embarrassed that you allowed his words to affect you that much. You reached for the joint that was resting along the rolling tray and picked it up between your two fingers along with the lighter. âIâm going to take a couple more hitsâŚyou want any?â You asked while sparking the joint up, taking a deeper inhale this time to try and soothe your already scrambled brain.
He nodded, reaching his hand up to pluck the joint from between your lips after you were finished and placed it between his own and took a similarly deep drag. He looked so fucking pretty, laying there, joint hanging low between his lips, shimmering eyeshadow making his rich brown eyes stand out even more.
âYâknowâŚâ he started, âif ya take a picture, itâll last longer!â He mused, taking another long drag, blowing the smoke off to the side. When you didnât immediately laugh at his weak attempt to ease the tension further, he frowned. âHey, you okay? Youâre never this quiet, bug. Even when youâre high.â
âIâm fine, Dieter.â You sighed, and went to slide off his lap, forgetting about doing his eyeliner when his hand resting around your hip tightened and you freezed under his touch.
âHey, please donât lie to me. Did I say something to upset you? Iâm sorry if I did.â He was always so genuine in his apologies to you. He could claim to not know how to read the room, but that couldnât be further from the truth.
âDee, Iâm fine.â You reassured him. âI was just having a moment.â
âWellâŚstop that! Itâs not allowed when weâre having a sleepover.â He really just couldnât stand to see you upset. It tore him up inside and made him feel like he was always the root cause for your mood change.
âFuck you.â You laughed, giving his cheek a light pat while your other hand ruffled through his hair. âDo you still want me to do your eyeliner?â
âYes please.â He grinned. âJust promise to not poke my eye out again?â
âI promise, Dee.â
While you carefully began to apply the eyeliner to his eyelids with careful precision, he continued to ramble on underneath you, careful to not move too much because he really didnât want to accidentally get poked in the eye. Once you were finished, you expected him to immediately want to check how he looked in the mirror, but instead, he switched positions with you, straddling your hips now so that he could do your makeup.
You didnât protest, of course. Youâd take any excuse to admire his handsome features up close while he was zoned in on his work, his muse being you. Whenever he was painting, his focus was intense and it was as if he had tuned out everything else around him. He acted all the same while he was gently applying a shimmer shadow to your eyelids.
The intimacy simmering between the two of you was becoming too much for you to handle. You could feel him through his too-tight boxers, the weight of his cock pressing right against your clothed center. Despite knowing Dieter for as long as you have, you never had seen his cock, only just the outline of it. However, you heard the stories from his past partners, flings, and even some colleagues. They were all shocked to hear that you yourself had not seen Dieter Bravoâs package.
The walls in his spacious bedroom felt like they were closing in on you from how flustered you were feeling. Surely there was sweat beginning to bead and perspire along the column of your throat and behind your neck. Perhaps there was even an evident sign of your arousal between your thighs. You hoped to god that he hadnât caught on. But when his hips shifted forward, his tongue poking out between his lips while he carefully applied a swipe of eyeliner across your right eyelid, it was too much.
âHeyâDee? Iâm not feeling too hot. Think the weed is messing with me. IâI think Iâm gonna shower and go to bed.â You stuttered out, trying to focus on the words coming out of your mouth and not the images of his thick cockâ
He frowned, looking deflated when you said that you wanted to go to bed. âOhâokay, bug. I understand. Do you wanna watch a movie or something? Iâll get you some food and water, okay? Maybe youâre just having a bad trip?â He was genuinely concerned, feeling slightly nervous that his trusted dealer had laced his stash with something, but he didnât want to go down that rabbit hole just yet.
âNoâI justâŚI want to shower and go to bed, Dieter. Iâll be fine. It probably is just a bad trip.â You reassured him and subtly tried to create any form of distance between the two of you to relieve the tension you were feeling.
The weed is only enhancing what Iâm feeling right now. If he could see the thoughts going through my head right nowâ
âIf you are having a bad trip, then I should stay with you, bug. I donât want anything to happen to youââ
âDieter.â You were on the edge of snapping and saying something you would inevitably regret, âI donât want you to stay with me, okay? I just want to fucking shower and go to bed.â
Ouch.
He visibly recoiled, feeling like you had just stabbed him right in the gut and twisted the knife for good measure. Maybe I am the clingy oneâŚ
âOkay, okay. I understand. Iâll leave you alone if thatâs what you want.â He wanted to snap right back at you, but he didnât have the heart in him to do so.
âThank you.â You breathed out, and when he didnât immediately uncage your thighs from under his hips, you took matters into your own hands and placed your palm flat against his chest, gently pushing him off of you so you could quickly stand up.
He felt his heart twist even further when you disappeared into the en-suite, slamming the door behind you. He wasnât sure if it was done maliciously or on accident, it still fucking hurt.
Seconds later he hears the sink turn on and the sound of water splashing against your face. It felt wrong to leave you in this state, so even after he heard the shower turn on while he was cleaning up the strewn about makeup on the floor, he sat down against the door, his back leaning against it as he waited. For what? He really didnât know the answer to that.
You knew that Dieter was concerned about your well being, and if he could have it his own way, he would be in the bathroom with you right now, sitting with his back facing you so that you would feel comfortable to shower. You also were aware that he was sitting against the bathroom door and your heart lurched at the thought. You felt the guilt swim and swirl around you. Snapping at your best friend was not on your bingo card for the night, but maybe this was a sign that you and Dieter needed to set some serious boundaries between one another. Maybe you were beginning to realize that the two of you wereâŚtoo close.
âCan you justâŚlet me know youâre okay in there?â You heard him ask through the door as the scalding hot water streamed down over your bare body.
âDieter, Iâm fine.â Your voice was muffled under the stream.
âYeah, sure you are, but Iâd be a terrible fucking friend if I just left you to deal with this bad trip on your own, bug.â
God dammit, Dieter. Why canât you just be an asshole like a normal person?! Is what you really wanted to say.
âOkayâŚâ you trailed off, âIâm going to be in here for a while.â
âThatâs okay. You can use up all of my hot water. I donât care.â He reassured you.
When you didnât immediately respond he let out a sigh, resting his head back against the door, closing his eyes. He remembered that your phone was still playing music from where it sat on his nightstand next to his own, and the familiar tune of Pink Pony Club started playing. It was yours and Dieterâs favorite song off of Chappellâs album.
âI know you wanted me to stay, but I can't ignore the crazy visions of me in LA. And I heard that there's a special place, where boys and girls can all be queens every single day.â
Dieter Bravo could not fucking sing, but everytime that he did for you, it was the most endearing gesture ever.
âYou fucking asshole.â You muttered under your breath, âI'm having wicked dreams of leaving Tennessee. Oh, Santa Monica, I swear it's calling me. Won't make my mama proud, It's gonna cause a scene. She sees her baby girl, I know she's gonna screamâŚâ
âGod, what have you done! You're a pink pony girl, and you dance at the club! Oh mama, I'm just having fun! On the stage in my heels, itâs where I belong down at the Pink Pony Club!â You and Dieter sung the chorus in unison, completely out of tune, but neither of you could give a fuck about that.
You could practically picture his dopey, weed-stained grin plastered on his handsome, scruffy face behind the door when you sang the chorus together. The mental image sent your heart surging out of your chest, and your pussy pulsing in tandem.
Fuck me.
You truly had just planned to take a hot, relaxing, mind clearing shower and then go straight to bed, but you were feeling bothered by the weed, and your blatantly obvious attraction towards your best friend. Not to mention, the little rasp in Dieterâs voice was not helping you out in this predicament, either. Thatâs when you noticed his attached shower head and the lightbulb went off in your weed-induced brain.
You reached for the attached shower head, gently removing it from where it was mounted against the shower wall. Before turning it on, however, you quickly got familiar with the numerous spray settings and chose the medium spray before slowly dragging the shower head between your legs andâoh, fucck.
The pressure was just right and was directly spraying a stream of water onto your exposed clit. You held back a moan, bringing the back of your hand to your mouth and bit down as you slowly sank to your ass along the shower wall, your thighs spread fully, eyes rolling back into your skull from the intense feeling. Thatâs when a moan slipped past and Dieter initially thought he was just hearing things, but then he heard it againâŚand his cock twitched to life beneath the tight confinements.
âThereâs no way. Iâm just high as shit right now and hearing things. Yeah, thatâs the logical explanation!â He muttered to himself, scrubbing one hand down his face. But then he heard you distinctively moan, and his face suddenly felt hot to the touch. He pressed his ear against the door, raising his fist and gently knocked on the wood, âyou uhâyou okay in there?â
You were so close to hitting that big âoâ that you didnât even hear Dieterâs low rasp through the door.
âFuck. Fuck. Fuck.â You whimpered. âSo fucking close, just a little more. Just a little more. Câmon, baby.â
Now that he could hear you more clearly, he knew exactly what was producing those little desperate sounds to slip past your pretty lips: his fucking shower head.
âExcuse me?? Are you getting yourself off with MY shower head, without me in there?!â It was a thought that he had meant to keep in his head, but now that it was out there, there was truly no going back.
You froze like a deer caught in headlights, immediately dropping the shower head from your loose grasp and it clattered to the shower floor just as the bathroom door burst open.
âDieterâWHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?!â You screeched, hair drenched, thighs spread and trembling.
He shut the door behind him, muttering under his breath as he approached, looking you right in the eyes, âmore importantly, what are you doing?â He placed his hands on his hips. âYour little moans and whimpers made me rock fucking hard!â He gestured to the obvious tent in his boxers, his cock straining against the tight material. âHad I known it was gonna be that kind of sleepover, I would have joined you a heck of a lot sooner!â
Oh. My. God. This isnât happening, is it?!
âDieter, you canât just fucking come in here when Iâm masturbating! Dudeâwhat the fuck!â
âOh, heavens! Are we going back to the 1800âs or something? Just call it for what it is! You playing with your pussy, and using my shower head to get yourself off! By all means, please continue, but next time? I want a personal invite!â
You were appalledâŚand a little turned on? Okay, a lot turned on! In fact, your pussy was pulsing between your thighs, the edge of your interrupted orgasm was still simmering, waiting to fully bloom. To make matters worse, Dieter had crouched down outside of the shower, his brows furrowed when he noticed the setting you had set the shower head to. He tsked under his breath, shaking his head as he reached into the shower and picked up the shower head from where it had been dropped between your spread thighs.
âDieter, what are youââ
âHush and listen to the teacher, okay? For starters, youâre using it all wrong. You gotta build yourself up first, and then go full blast. Otherwise youâre just gonna overstimulate your poor little clit, and that just takes away from the experience.â He said in the most casual fashion, as if this wasnât crossing a million different invisible boundaries all at once.
âDieter, I donât need your assistance on getting myself off, okay? Please justââ
âBug, donât make this weird, okay? Weâre friends, and thereâs nothing in the friends handbook that says that we canât help one another get off! Itâs totally not forbidden.â He retorted.
âI think you just made the whole friends handbook thing up. It totally doesnât exist and we absolutely should not be doing this, Dieter! Itâs wrong for a multitude of reasons!â
âThe friends handbook totally exists! Iâll get you a copy, okay? Iâm not going to touch you, unless you want me to. Iâm just gonna use the shower head to show you the right way to get yourself off with it, and afterwards you will be thanking me!â
âI canât believe Iâm about to agree to this. I cannot fuckingââ
âBest start believing it, baby! Now, spread your thighs for me a little more, okay?â
âOkay, Iâm giving you my full consent, but if I start feeling weird, weâre stopping this whole thing, okay?â You looked him directly in the eyes as you spread your thighs further so he had a better view.
âBug, if at any point you feel weird, uncomfortable, or want to stop, just tell me, okay? Iâm not gonna pressure you to continue doing this if you donât want to. Iâm leaving the ball completely in your court, and my feelings wonât be hurt if you change your mind, okay? I promise.â His words were sincere, and it was hard to look away when he was staring at you with those big, brown, puppy dog eyes.
âOkay.â You nodded.
He leaned forward then, briefly getting caught under the stream when his lips brushed across your forehead, leaving you both feeling slightly stunned. He softly asked you if it was okay if he did touch you, to which you obliged, lower lip taken between your teeth when his hand that wasnât holding the shower head slowly dipped between your thighs and his fingers spread your slick folds apart so he would have better access to your clit.
âI always knew that your pussy would be pretty, baby, but goddamnâshe really is so fucking pretty.â He took a sharp inhale of breath, his cock twitching painfully in his boxers.
âDieter Bravo, youâre going to be the death of me.â You breathed out, heat rising to your cheeks from the way he was gazing at the spot between your thighs, eyes glazed over the same way a dog looks at a delicious bone, or a plate of juicy, rare, steak.
âYouâre already the death of me, bug.â He whispered, unable to help himself when his thumb gently brushed across your clit. He swallowed hard, trying to focus on the task at hand but between you prettily spread out beneath him, and the weed still flowing through his system, he was fucked.
He changed the setting on the shower head without even having to look down at it. He was too focused on your face, particularly your eyes and how you both seemed to be drinking one another in, an invisible string tied between the two of you, reeling him in closer, and closer. You observe his face, and the way his eyeliner has now started to run and bleed under his eyes and down his cheeks from the water and steam. Your pussy clenches from the sight just as his thumb lightly presses against your clit, making slow, languid, figure eight motions.
He thinks he wants to kiss youâno, scratch that. He wants to kiss you, and you can tell by the way his eyes flicker from your face and down to your lips, and then back up again.
âDieterâŚâ you whisper, bringing your hand up to gently cradle his face in your palm, curling your pointer finger under his chin. âDo you want to kiss me?â Your warm breath fans his face as he slowly nods.
âYeah, I do.â He rasped, slowly leaning in.
âSo kiss me, you fool.â
And so he did, but instead of hesitating, and holding back, he dove right in, noses pressing into one another as he licked greedily into your mouth, tangling his tongue with yours while his hand holding the shower head angled it right against your exposed pussy and between his fingers where he was keeping you spread open.
âOh fuck!â You whimpered into the kiss, keeping your one hand anchored around his jaw while the other came to rest at the back of his head, your fingers tangled through his drenched locks, tugging on them gently.
âYeah, feels good, doesnât it, baby? Told ya so.â He snickered into your lips, kissing you deeper. âLower water pressure builds you up slower, drawing your orgasm out to last longer, and itâll feel 10x more intense.â
âMhm.â You mumbled into his lips, scooting your hips closer to the stream of water, and to him.
âGreedy little pussy, huh? Canât get enough, can ya?â He teased.
âDieterâŚâ you warned him, playfully biting down on his lower lip and tugging it out gently before releasing it.
âI know, I know.â He chuckled and reluctantly detached himself from the kiss, pecking your lips once before he sat back on his thighs to give himself any form of relief. âYou wanna give yourself a whirl while I go take care of this erâin privacy?â
Your cheeks were puffed out, lips swollen with his kisses as you stared up at him dumbfounded. âAre you insane? Just get in here with me, Dieter. Right now.â
He blushed, turning bright red all the way to the tips of his ears. He rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly turning all bashful as if he wasnât just talking about your greedy little pussy seconds ago. âAre youâŚsure? I really donât mind! I can just go jerk off in my bed like a normal personââ
âDieter.â Your tone sounded strained, âget in the fucking shower now. Take those ridiculously tight boxers off and get in here.â
Well, you certainly didnât need to ask Dieter Bravo twice as he scrambled to peel his boxers down over his hips and thighs, tossing the damp fabric outside of the shower. His cock bobbed between his thighs, hard, heavy and the tip was swollen a painful red color. Poor guy.
He climbed over you, situating himself and his cute little tush right next to you with his shoulders gently brushing yours. He spit a glob of saliva into his palm and wrapped his fist around the veiny girth of his cock. âIâll come fast, I promise. You wonât even have to do anything, okay? Just pretend Iâm not here!â His tone was rushed as he squeezed the base of his cock, lolling his head to the side so he could look over at you. His eyeliner was completely smudged now and his lips were swollen with your kisses.
All you could do was nod dumbly, your eyes transfixed by his fist wrapped around his cock. It was as if you were seeing a unicorn for the first time! The unicorn being erâDieterâs cock.
He looked at your face, and then down at his cock, and then back up at your face. âHello?â He waved with his freehand, âwhy are you looking at my cock like that, huh? Are you the only person in the whole state of California who hasnât seen my cock before?â He was in disbelief, his mouth falling open when he realized that you never had seen his cock.
"I totally thought you'd seen his dick. Practically everyone else has." You remember his ex cruelly teasing you about it one day.
You shook your head, eyes glazed over as you watched his fist slowly twist and pump around his length. âNope. First time, and itâs like Iâm looking at a unicorn!â You exclaimed playfully.
Dieter snorted at your enthusiasm, feeling his heart lurch from his chest, âwell, it is sorta like seeing a unicorn for the first timeâŚI suppose?â He chuckled, squeezing the base of his cock for some form of relief. He felt like now was the best time to address the obvious elephant in the room, silly Dieter. âSo uhâwell, this doesnât mean anything, right? Because weâre just friends and good friends masturbate together. It's cool, this is super casual!â
Sure, bud. You keep telling yourself that.
You fought the urge to roll your eyes and clicked your tongue against the roof of your mouth, spreading your thighs further so you could continue your ministrations with the shower head. âSure, Dieter. This means absolutely nothing. Just two besties jerking it off, side by side. Totally casual!â
He let out a huff as he pumped his fist faster, âWell, we wouldnât be in this predicament if those noises you were making didnât make my cock as hard as a slab of concrete!â
âDieter, shut up, and get yourself off! Or so help meââ
âYes ma'am!â He squeaked out.
In tandem you placed the shower head close to your clit once more while he fisted his cock, and when your moans started to intermingle and become one, thatâs when your glazed over eyes met once more. He had his lip harshly taken between his teeth, his cock was twisting and pulsing beneath his fist. He leaned in close, lips just barely brushing your bare shoulder where he had dipped his head down to nuzzle you. His eyes flickered upwards towards your face, pupils darkening by the second, âI really want to fuck you right now, baby.â He rasped.
You met his gaze, thighs trembling and your eyes rolling slightly as your orgasm rippled through you, âyeah, you wanna fuck me, Dieter? How badly do you want to fuck me?â
âSo fucking bad, baby. Youâve got no idea.â He mewled, âthereâs that convenient bench right over there.â He gestured to the shower bench with a coy tilt of his chin, âyou can sit right on my cock, if youâd like thatâŚâ
âDid you have that bench installed for convenience purposes or for your old man bad back?â You asked teasingly.
He narrowed his eyes at you, glaring playfully before he chuckled, âa bit of both. More-so on the convenience side of things. And, itâs newly installed so you and I would be the first to use it.â He winked coyly.
âReally? Well, your offer is most tempting, Bravo. Iâd like to take you up on it and sit on your big fucking cock.â
âNow weâre talking.â He grinned, loosening his fist around his cock so he could offer you a hand and helped you up. Now you were both directly under the stream of water, hands roaming everywhere they could reach. You kissed deeply, giggling in unison when you grabbed his ass and he grabbed yours. He could happily live in this moment forever with you, even if it meant that his skin would inevitably prune and probably fall off.
You backed him up against the shower bench, climbing into his lap as he slowly lowered himself into a sitting position along the marble bench that could easily fit both of you.
You wrapped your own palm around the base of his cock for the first time as you slowly sank down around his girth till he was fully pressed inside of you, bottoming out with a low grunt against your lips. He let his arms loop firmly around your waist, pulling you in as close as he physically could so that your chests were pressed flushed together. He swore he saw heaven behind fluttered lashes when you started to slowly roll your hips into his, bouncing and grinding along his length.
If it wasnât for his steadfast orgasm, he probably would have lasted longer before he was shooting thick ropes of his cum deep inside of you, but he was a man, after all. And while his cum leaked and dripped from your weeping little hole that was still stuffed full of his cock, he made sure that you got to come again, too. He pistoned his hips upwards at an unruly pace, loving the way that your nails clawed at his back and shoulders, leaving little red crescents in their wake. Maybe Iâll get those tattooed on me later. He briefly thought as you came undone around him, crying out his name.
You stayed seated on his cock for what felt like hours before he gently eased you off him, his cock now soft between his thighs and glistening in a thick, pearlescent ring of your combined releases.
You washed one anotherâs bodies under the lukewarm stream and he was the first to step out of the shower, grabbing a towel to wrap around his waist and when you emerged, he had a towel waiting for you. You kissed a few more times, gentle pecks of intimacy as you stood side by side in front of the mirror, brushing your teeth and doing your skincare.
âSoo, where are you sleeping tonight?â He suddenly asked with a mouthful of toothpaste. His deep pools of brown boring into yours.
You hadnât really thought that far if you were being honestâŚand now with that fresh âI just got fucked goodâ glow illuminating your features, and the remainder of your high still sizzling, you suddenly feeling nervous all over again.
âUm, well, where do you want me to sleep?â
âI asked you first.â He crossed his arms over his chest, waiting for your response.
âOkay, fair, how about on the count of three we say it together?â
âDeal.â He nods.
âOkayâone, two, threeââ you counted off in unison.
âYour bedâmy bed.â
You both looked relieved at your answers, letting out breaths you didnât realize you were holding. âThank fucking god.â You both laughed.
He kissed you then, mouthful of toothpaste and all. You made a funny squeaking sound when he had unexpectedly kissed you, and the corners of his mouth curved up into a knowing grin. âIâll get you one of my shirts to wear.â He mumbled into the kiss, pulling back slowly.
When you left the en-suite, you found Dieter already in bed, sitting up with the rolling tray resting in his lap. He had a fresh pair of boxers on, this pair was made of cotton and was far less constricting. He was rolling another joint to smoke before bed when he looked up, smiling softly at your lingering presence in the doorway, wearing nothing but his shirt.
âWell, donât be shy, bug. Ainât the first time youâve slept in my bed.â He winked, patting the empty spot beside him on his massive king sized bed.
You took a deep breath, remembering that this was Dieter Bravo, your best friend and partner in crime. He would always be your best friend.
You made your way over to the empty side of the bed and pulled the covers back so you could climb underneath them.
He finished rolling the joint, grabbing his lighter from the nightstand to spark it up before he paused, looking over his shoulder at you. âHey, we donât have to likeâdo anything, okay?â He reassured you.
âBut Dieter, I wanna do stuff with you. Itâs justâin your bed it feelsâŚâ you trailed off, scratching at the outside of your arm absentmindedly.
He tucked the joint behind his ear and rolled over into his side so he was facing you, using his elbow to prop himself up, âI understand, baby. This isâŚnew for me as well. We can smoke this joint and then make out a little? See where it goes?âŚâ
You nodded, lips curving up into a soft smile that sent his heartbeat racing, âyeah, Iâd like that.â
âMe too.â He grinned.
He sparked the joint up between you, taking a few hits before he passed it off to you. This went on a few more times before your bodies just naturally gravitated towards one another, and when the joint died out, he set it down on the tray on his nightstand before his lips found yours.
You kissed like this for hours, simply just enjoying one anotherâs company and soft touch when the sun began to rise over the Los Angeles landscape. Dieter was uncharacteristically quiet, even for being stoned.
Your fingers were gently dragging through the patches in his beard, playing with his scruff in between kisses. âI can hear you overthinking, Dee.â
âAre you a wizard?â He chuckled, âyou can hear my thoughts? Thatâs crazy!â
âShh.â You giggled. âIâm right here, baby. You donât have to yell.â
âSorry.â He whispered, scooting his body closer to yours. He would absolutely crawl inside of your skin and never leave, but wellâ-he might go to prison if he did that.
âIâm gonna say something that might sound stupid, but I gotta get it off my chest, okay?â He started, his glazed over eyes met yours as he pressed a few kisses to the underside of your fingertips.
âIâm listening.â
âOkay, soâwell, this is just different for me because I donât normally fuck my friends.â
You gave him a funny look at his admittance, unable to help yourself.
âIâm serious! I donât fuck my friendsâand well, I care about you a ton.Maybe even more than I care about myself? Anyway, I donât want things to get weird between us tomorrow. Like if you wake up and regret everything that happened, I just want you to tell me, okay? My hopes is that maybe you felt the little spark that I did and if you did we canââ
âDieter, I promise you Iâm not going to wake up tomorrow and regret everything that happened tonight. No matter where this takes us, Iâm always going to love you, and youâre always going to be my best friend.â Your words were sincere and directly from your heart and he knew you werenât just saying shit just to say it.
âI think I just shat my heart out, that was so sweet.â He giggles, nuzzling his nose against yours. âIn all seriousness, thank you. I was just afraid that this would ruin our friendship, and I would lose you forever.â
âNever, Dieter. You could never lose me.â You reassured him.
âGood, cause in the morning? Iâm making waffles!â
Helen Mirren: Narrator for the Barbie Movie:
Dieter did not in fact make waffles the next morning. Instead, Dieter had his breakfast between your thighs, and then let you order whatever brunch you wanted on his black card
"You can be my sugar baby! I get to eat you out and you can order whatever you want on my card." He murmured between your thighs, mouthful of your pussy.
"That's not how that sort of thing really works, Dieter. But, yeah, okay."
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I wanna go to the hardware store and pretend I'm confused so maybe a handsome contractor with baby cow eyes and delicious arms will offer me some help and fall in love with me.
Then on our wedding day:
- Joelie, I have to confess something. The day we met I was just pretending. I actually know my way around the hardware store very well but I was too shy to talk to you đ¤
- Well, darling, I guess this a good time to confess I'm not a contractor. I was pretending. I actually sell hardcore drugs đâđť
I love this silly man đŠˇ
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whatever you want | joel miller x f!reader
summary: date night for you and Joel but we skip to the good part xoxo
word count: 3,2k
warnings: 18+ only, POV changes (i tried my best pls be nice), no plot in sight, reader has no physical descriptions other than clothing, established relationship, pet names, smut, oral (m receiving), fingering, unprotected p in v, butt stuff, spitting, creampie, praise kink, panty kink, size kink, Joelâs filthy mouth
a/n: this is the first thing i've written that's actually made it out the doc before being trashed forever - big thanks to my irl bestie for her continuous words of encouragement <3 this is very mildly edited because i'll hate it if i keep trying to improve it âď¸ i'd appreciate any feedback! again pls be nice thank you love you okay bye
divider by @saradika-graphics
You've been looking forward to this all week â date night with Joel. You usually stick to something simple, going out for a cosy dinner or just deciding to cook together at home â but he always ensures itâs a memorable night in one way or another, and tonight is no exception.
He suggested to you earlier in the week, lying in bed, âHow âbout this time you pick out something for me to wear? Hm?â It had your mind racing with ideas, thinking about all the possibilities now presented to you.Â
You glance at him, âSo whatâs in it for you, then?â
âNo ulterior motive here, sweetheart,â he puts his palms up near his face and smirks, âYou always look pretty for me, I just thought Iâd return the favour.â
âHm, thatâs a big decision,â you mutter with a playful smile.
Youâre well aware of what Joel loves seeing you wear â heâs always loved anything you wear, to be frank, racy or not â and decided to pose a deal to him, something you knew youâd both benefit from.
âI may have some ideas. Why donât we make a deal, then?â you inch closer to him and play with a stray lock of his hair. âYou do something for me, and Iâll do something for you.â Your eyes meet and you can tell heâs trying to figure out the game youâre playing.
âAnd what would that entail?â he asks, a hint of cockiness in his voice, impressed by your unusual boldness. You remove your hand from his hair and drape your arm over him.
âWill you wear that red shirt again⌠with the sleeves rolled up?â you ask shyly, trailing your fingers up and down his side.
âSure will,â he says, still smirking. Youâre only getting more breathless the longer this goes on, and you haven't even made your whole point yet.
âAnd⌠those black pants of yoursâŚ?â
âWhich ones, sweetheart? I got a lot of black pants,â he remarks, feigning innocence and a cheeky lilt to his voice.
âYou know which ones,â you mutter, your hand stilling.
He shifts closer until youâre pressed against each other and whispers, âDonât think I do, youâre gonna have to tell me.â
You huff, annoyed at him for teasing you like this, and at yourself for getting turned on by his games. âThe tight-fitting, blackââ
âThatâs not what you really want to say, though, is it? Tell me whatâs going through that pretty head of yours,â he interrupts, and you shiver.
You look down at his chest, unable to make eye contact with him and pray he doesnât notice how your cheeks redden as you whisper back, âThose black pants that everyone can see how big you are, those pants, I want you to wear them.â
He skims a hand up your back, âSee? Was that so difficult?â he asks rhetorically, and you can practically hear his teasing smile and visualise the dark glint that you know will be in his eyes. âAnd what shoes should I wear, you know, to tie the whole look together?â
âYou know very well I couldnât care less what fucking shoes you wear,â you chirp back at him, forcing yourself to look him in the eye again.
Satisfied with your answer, he plants his hand on the small of your back, caressing you gently with his thumb, âYou mentioned some kind of deal?â
If he hadnât brought it up again youâre not sure you wouldâve remembered at all. Youâll always be amazed by how calm he is after derailing a conversation and making you so flustered.
You close your eyes, mentally shake yourself, and start your bargaining, âWell, I promise to wear the laciest panties I ownââ you look at him sweetly through your lashes, ââif you promise to keep your clothes on. And you can, you know, do whatever you want.â It comes out far breathier than you were planning, but itâs out. âWith me, to me, you know. Whatever.âÂ
He raises his eyebrows slightly, voice lowered, âWhatever I want, hm? And all I have to do is stay dressed? Quite the deal there.â
-
Joelâs made himself comfortable in his chair, eyes trained on you in the doorway. Sitting here now, the nightâs only just beginning and youâre already like putty in his hands. He noticed hours ago your eyes had glazed over, and heâs been growing harder and harder ever since in anticipation.
âWhatâre you thinking about, sweetheart?â he asks, and your gaze refocuses on him.
âYou,â you reply, sweet and simple.
He does a once-over, taking in your flowery, strappy top and neat little black slip-skirt that falls just above your knees and hugs your hips beautifully â your hands fiddling with the hem of your shirt and youâre shifting your weight side to side.
He smiles softly and suggests, âWhy donât you show me those pretty panties you promised to wear?â and you nod gently, moving slowly further into the room.
Much more confident and comfortable in your own skin than when you took your clothes off for him the first time, you face Joel and lift your gaze to meet his. You reach behind your back to unzip your top and lift it over your head, dropping it to the floor. Pushing your thumbs beneath your waistband, you peel your skirt over your hips and hunch forward slightly, letting it pool around your feet. Standing at your full height again, he takes all of you in â clad in lace, black bra and lilac panties.
He widens his legs and curls a finger, beckoning you forward and you stand between his knees. Joel rests his hands on your hips, thumbing the lace over your hipbones.
âWhereâve you been hiding these?â he looks up at you and sees heat blooming across your chest and up your neck.
âI, um⌠Iâve been saving them, for uhââ you stutter, and he can see you start second-guessing your choice. Breathing shallowly, you murmur, âDo you not like them?â
He smiles at you, still playing with the lace, âI love them, sweetheart. You know I always do.â He lowers his gaze down to your panties again, eyes trailing across the fabric, and he doesnât miss how you press your legs together, seeking any sort of relief.
He pushes against your hip to turn you around, and almost canât believe how youâve both ended up here. You, dressed in your best lace just for him, ready and willing to do as he says? Youâd clearly been wanting to do this for some time now, but Joel would be lying if he said he wasnât excited, too. He kneads the swell of your ass, fingers toying with the lacy edges and hears you breathing deeply again.
âSo, whatever I want?â
You turn to look at him over your shoulder and reply under your breath, âYes.â
He turns you around to face him, hands still on your hips. He looks up at you again, âYou okay?â and squeezes his hands.
âYeah,â and you nod, smiling down at him.
âWell, you did such a good job picking these panties all on your own, sweetheart, I think maybe you need a reward,â he darts his tongue out and drags his hands along your thighs, resting his arms down and leaning back in his chair. âFirst, though, youâre gonna show me just how good you can be, okay? Câmon, on your knees.â
You lower yourself, getting comfortable between his legs, your eyes lingering on his bulge before looking up at him. He nods towards his lap and you start undoing his pants, palming him through the fabric. Reaching into his boxer briefs and wrapping your hand around his length, you stroke him a few times and pull his waistband down just enough to take him out, thick and heavy and already fully stiff in your hand. You bow your head to lick him from base to tip, hover above him and spit onto his cock, stroking him harder and smiling sweetly at him.
You start taking him into your mouth and he sighs, resting a hand on the crown of your head. âYou been waiting all night for this, huh, sweetheart?â
You hum a response and he groans, watching you bob up and down, taking more and more of him each time. You pull off and continue stroking him, and he smiles at you in encouragement. You take him in your mouth again, and he feels you hollow your cheeks and take him even further, the tip of his cock just about breaching your throat and you whimper around him.
âFuck, baby, doinâ so good,â he grunts and pulls you off. His hand moves to the nape of your neck, the other tracing over your collarbone and down over the lace of your bra, your nipples hardening through the delicate fabric. âThink you can do it?â
You nod eagerly at him, eyes glinting, hands stroking him languidly and you move to start sucking him again. He tightens his grip and stops you. âUse your words, please.â
âYes, I can do it.â You look up at him and his hold softens.
âGood girl, go on.â
You lick the underside of his shaft and swirl your tongue around the head of his cock and take him again, working him just to the start of your throat. Youâre breathing as best you can through your nose, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes, lips stretched around him and brushing his wiry curls as you push even further and hold him there, fingers digging into his thighs. You start to gag and do your best not to pull off him, squirming to find any bit of friction and Joel moans at the sight, throwing his head back.
âBeinâ such a good girl, taking my cock so far down your throat, hm?âÂ
You moan and swallow around him, his hips jerking at the sensation and he pulls you off. âAlmost too good,â he breathes, âknow youâd love me coming down your throat, but not tonight.â He gives you a lopsided smile and you whine, moving back and forth on your knees.
âStand up for me sweetheart,â and you rise, looking down at him, still catching your breath. His hands are back on you immediately, squeezing your waist, hips, ass â any part of you he can reach. He runs his fingers across your panties again, trailing them down over your covered clit and between your folds and you tilt forward into his touch.
âSoaked right through these pretty panties of yours,â he looks up to meet your gaze and thereâs almost no colour to your eyes anymore, just pure blown-out pupils. He keeps rubbing his fingers along you and you whine again, clearly desperate for him to touch you properly.
He smirks up at you, âSo needy just from sucking my cock.â
Joel shoves his hand under the elastic of your panties and rubs his fingers between your folds and over your entrance, coating his fingers in your arousal. He shoves two thick fingers into you without warning and you fall forward with a strangled moan, hands supporting your weight on his shoulders as he pumps his fingers in and out, your cunt tight around him.
âAlways so wet for me, huh? Need me to make you feel good?â He stares at you, eyes shut and mouth hanging open as he slows his hand and you force out a yes, your voice hoarse. He speeds up again and curls his fingers into that one spot he knows you canât reach with your own hand, brushing over it again and again, the palm of his hand grinding against your clit.
Your legs start trembling and he pulls his fingers out and slips them into his mouth, sucking them clean. âTaste so sweet.â
He moves his legs between yours and pulls you towards him and down onto his lap, guiding your hips back and forth over his length, precome leaking from his tip. He leans forward, âYou gonna keep these on while you sit on my cock, yeah?â and tugs on the waistband of your panties, letting the elastic snap back against your skin. You nod frantically in response and lean into him, wrapping your arms around his neck to kiss him haphazardly. He licks into your mouth and moans into you, hands firmly gripping your ass.
You rise slightly and he takes hold of his cock, stroking himself and pulls your panties to one side. He lines himself up with your entrance and you start to sink down, eyes screwing shut at the stretch. He holds you by the waist, your hands like a vice grip on his shoulders and it takes everything in him not to pull you down and make you take him to the hilt. You take your time working him in, inch by inch, and Joel can tell how close you are already, your broken moans getting louder and louder.
Youâre fully seated and he takes a hand off his shoulder, plants a kiss on your knuckles and guides it between your bodies, spreading your fingers around where heâs splitting you open. âYou feel how stretched you are, baby?â You gasp and he leans towards you and lifts his hand to grip across your chin, mouth ghosting yours and squeezes his hand to purse your lips.Â
âOpen,â he orders and your lips part, spitting into your mouth and he feels you tightening around him. Pushing his index finger into your mouth, you suck and swirl your tongue around it, moaning as you lift up and down, grinding yourself onto the trail of hair at the base of his cock. Joel feels your legs starting to give out underneath you and he watches you with hooded eyes. He pulls his finger from your mouth and wraps his arms around you, hands reaching down underneath your panties to grab your ass and spread you wider. He prods his finger at your tight hole and your eyes shoot open to look at him, desperate and needy.
âYou gonna come for me?â You whine and nod, almost begging him with a please, over and over again. He pushes his finger in to just past his middle knuckle and you moan out wantonly, already completely wrecked. Joel feels your cunt clamp down on his cock and you come with a sob of his name, eyes shut and face contorted in pleasure as he whispers praises in your ear.
-
At some point in your post-orgasm haze, Joel moved the two of you onto the bed â you waiting on all fours and Joel's voice breaking through from somewhere behind you.
âDid good sweetheart, always do, but Iâm not done with you.â His hands are all over you, skating across and grabbing any skin he can reach. You crane your neck to look over your shoulder in search of him and notice heâs still fully dressed â well, as fully dressed as he can be â and remember thatâs what got you into this position in the first place. Dishevelled greying curls, only the last couple buttons holding his shirt together, wide chest on full display, sleeves rolled up, pants and boxer briefs sitting mid-thigh, his cock, thick and hard and leaking and you clench around nothing just at the sight.
Joelâs hands are all over you, skating across and grabbing any skin he can reach. He hooks his fingers into your waistband and pulls your panties down to the tops of your thighs, placing open-mouthed kisses on the skin as itâs revealed. He spreads you with his hands and spits onto your pussy and you let out a choked moan. He drags the tip of his cock through your folds and the messy mix of arousal and spit and your last orgasm. You feel him notch at your entrance again, and he sheaths himself fully inside your cunt in one thrust, all but punching the air from your lungs and he groans. You feel the swell of his tummy pressed against you and his fingers digging into your ass as he spreads you open. âLook so beautiful like this, wish you could see it.â
He leans over you, breathing into your neck, âAlways take my cock so well, baby.â He pulls out almost completely, snapping his hips back into you and you can already feel heat pooling at the base of your spine again as he pounds into you, fingers gripping your hips so hard heâs bound to leave bruises. He snakes a hand underneath you to rub your clit and you feel your legs start to tremble.
All you can think is Joel Joel Joel, and his voice cuts through the ringing in your ears, husky and breathless. âYou gonna give me one more, yeah? Come for me, sweetheart. Be a good girl and come on my cock,â and you all but see stars behind your eyes, overwhelmed with the sweet praise. He stills as you come, his hands and affirming words keeping you grounded as you clench and gush around him.
He wraps his arms around you and pulls you up flush against him, your head falling back onto his shoulder and youâre not sure you can form words anymore, your chest heaving as you try to get your breathing back to normal. You turn your head towards him and he kisses you surprisingly gently.
âCan you be good just a bit longer?â He starts grinding his hips into you and you whine, your hands coming up to hold his arms. âAlways such a good girl for me, hm?â He drags his mouth along the side of your neck and you nod tiredly, feeling him smile.
He starts with slow thrusts, his grip around you the sole reason youâre still upright, his voice in your ear and hot breath on your neck and the heavy, familiar, drag of his cock in and out making you dizzy.
âSo fuckinâ tight around me sweetheart. Your favourite feeling, isnât it? Being stuffed full of my cock?â He starts rambling on and you know heâs close. âYou want me to come inside you? Want me to come inside your tight little pussy?â
âYes, please. Please come inside me.â
He mumbles incoherently and you tighten your hands on his arms; his thrusts get harder and his arms stiffen in their hold around you and you feel him twitching as he starts to spill inside you, warmth coating your walls. He lowers you both to lie down as he comes down from his high, cock still buried deep inside you and you feel his spend start to leak out around him and down your thighs.
-
Shifting around and your eyes fluttering open, youâre wrapped up in Joelâs arms, head burrowed against his chest. You reach down and feel heâs cleaned you up and pulled fresh panties on you, a faint throbbing between your thighs. He stirs next to you and presses a kiss to your forehead, long and tender.
âSorry, fell asleep,â you mumble and wrap an arm around his torso to press yourself into him even more.
He pulls back slightly, lifting your chin with a finger to look at him. âSweetheart, think weâve done this enough that I know you get sleepy afterwards. Stop apologising.â He cradles your cheek, kisses you sweetly and whispers, âNow go back to sleep.â
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JOEL MILLER FIC RECS
âž 18+ minors DNI, read at your own risk! â˝
an appreciation to all my favourite writers out there you deserve all the love <3
Series
â Something To Fight For by @auteurdelabre | After a disastrous blind date you decide to stay away from the miserable Joel Miller forever...
â I Know Who You Are by @punkshort | A fall on patrol causes you to lose your long-term memory, forgetting the identities of your friends and loved ones. You have to learn all over again how to survive in a post-apocalyptic world, and you learn things about yourself along the way.
â The One You Need by @loliwrites | When you move into town hellbent on keeping everyone at armâs length, your neighbour Joel finds his way into your life.
â By The Grit Of Sandpaper by @penvisions | An offhand comment from you inspires Joel to branch out and create helpful kitchen wares. And it seems everyone has been gifted one from him, except for you. It makes you rethink the casual friendship you had developed...
â I Wanna Be Your Lover by @shellshocklove | Miserable after losing your job, your friend drags you out to a club to dance away your sadness. on the dancefloor, you meet a handsome stranger, who then whisks you away into his fantasy world as his assistant for his porn career. what happens when the lines get blurred?
â If The Door Wasn't Shut by @heartpascal | months of travelling with Joel and Ellie come crashing down on you, the fear is suffocating.
â Stay In Bed by @psychedelic-ink | After your grandfatherâs passing, you find yourself moving into his home in Texas. You meet the Millers; Tommy, his older brother Joel and his daughter Sarah. With time, you and Tommy become close friends and Sarah visits you often. But JoelâŚJoel keeps his distance.
â That's A Real Fucking Legacy by @wyn-n-tonic | When Tommy disappears in search of a better life with a promise to come back for you, his years of absence and the grief it leaves behind drives you and his brother closer together until the man you're sharing a bed and starting a family with is Joel Miller and not the one you always thought it would be.
One-Shots
â No Time To Die by @davosmymaster | The main difficulty of being Joelâs closest friend is not falling in love with him, but you still do. Those feelings are buried until you join him on a mission to trade supplies with Bill and Frank. With your life now hanging by a thread, Joel is determined to get you to safety, but the clock is ticking faster than he can run.
â White Lies by @poeticpascal | Joel would do anything for you. He does anything for you. And he makes sure you don't know a thing.
â Saying Thanks by @vivwritescrappythings | Joel is your grumpy patrol partner who doesnât even talk to you in the streets of Jackson. But one night a man grabs your arm at the Tipsy Bison, and Joelâs decided he doesnât like it.
â Soft & Sweet by @cavillscurls | You share your first kiss with the last man you ever expected: your older, grouchy, overly protective patrol partner, Joel Miller.
â Who We Are by @gracieheartspedro | Being stuck on the road with an older guy you've been crushing on for ages won't be so bad, right? wrong. because he's been pining after you, too. and one of you will have to give in eventually.
â Warm Me Up by @tightjeansjavi | While on patrol, you and Joel find yourselves caught in a treacherous snowstorm.
â Love In the Time Of Cordyceps by @sameheart-sameblood | When the world ends, you promise you'll never love again. Joel Miller makes that rule hard to stick to.
â Puppy Love by @absurdthirst | You always follow Joel Miller around, you've got his back. You're in love with him. Putting up with Tess's nickname of puppy dog, you don't realize that Joel feels for you until the end.
â Light The Flame by @yeollie-plz | Your mom moves the two of you back to Texas and attempts to reignite an old flame. What will happen when she learns his candle now burns for you?
â Best I Ever Had by @endlessthxxghts | Someone tries to hit on you on your night out with Joel, insulting your man in the process, and oh you don't like that. You blow off some steam in more ways than one.
â Make A Move On Me by @freelancearsonist | You've been teasing Joel every day since he started remodelling construction on your house. He finally works up the courage to do something about it - but not in the way you expect him to.
â Fire Walk by @motherofagony | A chance encounter at a motel has you crossing paths with a stranger in a blue t-shirt.
â Cry Baby by @psychedelic-ink | bodies have been dropping left and right in the most brutal ways in Jackson. As the relentless wave of deaths continues, your mind becomes increasingly restless. however, you find a sense of comfort and solace in the presence of Joel. who might be hiding secrets of his own.
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Puppy Love {Joel Miller x F!Reader}
Rating: Explicit
Word count: 12.1k
Warnings: Mentions of pimping someone out, post apocalyptic morality, mentions of violence, guns, biting, infected, death, slapping, angst, anger, Joel being emotionally constipated, declarations of love, unprotected sex, vaginal sex, outdoors sex, pulling out, mentions of pregnancy/infertility
Comments: You always follow Joel Miller around, you've got his back. You're in love with him. Putting up with Tess's nickname of puppy dog, you don't realize that Joel feels for you until the end.
A/N: ~Contains spoilers for Episode 2~ Follows the episode along with some canon divergence.
Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers
**Follow @absurdthirst-writes and turn on notifications to stay up to date on all new fics.
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Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.
Your eyes slide up and down the streets, daring anyone to come closer or ask questions as you clean against the crumbling brick facade and twist your head to look back at the two men huddled together about a hundred feet from where you are. You canât hear what theyâre saying but Joel looks even more pissed off than normal, even for Joel.Â
âWhat?â Joel shakes his head in annoyance, knowing heâs being squeezed for cards. He doesnât get charged that much for the entire hydro stash he gets from his seller. âNo, no fucking battery is worth that much and you know it.â He growls, narrowing his eyes at the untrustworthy weasel in front of him.Â
Robertâs eyes slide nervously around and he gives a small shrug, uncomfortable being around Joel and preferring to deal with Tess. âWhat can I say? Times are hard. Itâs getting harder to come by these things.â His greedy eyes shift over to where you are looking out at the street. âAlthoughâŚ.Iâm sure we could work something out. I could cut the price in half if you, say, let me have your little pet there for the night.â He chuckles, referring to Tessâs mocking nickname for you. âJoelâs little puppy dog.â
Joel stares at the other man for a few seconds, just processing what he said, until it finally sinks in. âWhat the fuck did you just ask for?â He growls, low and quiet so you donât hear.Â
âYou heard me, Miller. A night with your little lapdog over there. Sheâs gotta be good at sucking cock because you keep her around. Got a fucking harem started with her and Tess. Do you have one sit on your face and the other ride your cock?â Robert guesses, crossing his arms with a cocky smirk, âor do they take turns sucking your dick? Mmm if you guarantee me a blowjob, Iâll even throw in some extras.â
You tense slightly, shifting forward from your place leaning against the way. Eyes watching the way that Joelâs fist curls tight for a moment. Wishing that you could hear what the fuck they are saying, but Joel told you to stay here, so thatâs what youâre doing. âJoel?â You call out, getting his attention as he turns his head towards you. Youâre wondering if you need to come over, knowing you will throw yourself into a fight for him if needed.
He shakes his head, holding his hand up towards you to stop you. He considers the guys offer, he canât deny it. It would get him a hell of a lot closer to where he needs to be without having to do several burns for the cards. âNo. Sheâs not available.â He finally says, not wanting to force you into something like that. He might be an evil bastard but heâs not a monster. âSheâs not an option.â He decides, âyou get more ration cards when we meet for me to collect it.â
âCome on man.â Robert shakes his head and his eyes slide past Joel to leer at you. âItâs just a fucking blowjob. Iâll tell you what?â He huffs, smirking and looking back at Joel. âLet me fuck her, both holes, have her suck my cock and Iâll give you the battery for free. Hell of a deal, right? Iâll even let you watch if you want to.â
Joel canât help but reach up to squeeze the assholeâs throat. His anger makes him growl as he chokes the prick who dared to violate you like that. âYou get the ration cards when I collect it or I can kill you now and get the battery for free? Hell of a deal, right? Iâll even let her watch me kill you.â Joel sasses, tilting his head as he watches his eyes practically bulge.
âShit!â You leap forward but Joel just turns his head.Â
âStay there!â He orders harshly, making you stop in your tracks. Watching as Joel leans in and whispers something else to the disgusting little rat he was having to buy from to get the battery he needed.Â
âNo, no, it-itâs good!â You hear Robert choke out, gasping and sputtering when Joel lets him go. Clutching at his throat and coughing as Joel turns around and starts striding back toward you.Â
âLetâs go.â He demands, his scowl even deeper than normal as you scramble to catch up with his long legged strides. You werenât short but heâs speed walking.Â
âWhat the fuck just happened?â You demand, wanting to know what the fuck is going on.
âDonât worry about it.â Joel growls, body still vibrating with anger. He hates that you were a bargaining chip in this new world. Twenty years ago, it wouldâve been illegal but anything goes in this new era, even the things the QZ deems illegal are turned a blind eye to.Â
âDid you get the car battery?â You ask and Joel doesnât look at you, knowing heâs barely holding on to the thread of decency he has when it comes to you.Â
âNo.â He says without further explanation, âheâs got to locate it.â
âOkay.â You think there is more to it, but he obviously doesnât want to talk about it. You just walk along beside him, watching some of the people on the street part, giving Joel a wide berth. âSo what do we do now?â You ask, unsure if he had other things to take care of.
âWe keep low. You seen Tess? I ainât seen her for a couple of days. Startinâ to get worried.â He frowns, guiding you down the alleyway that takes you back to his building. âI havenât seen her.âÂ
You mimic his frown, both wondering where Tess is and hating that heâs so worried about her. Itâs always been the two of them. You know they fuck, you know sometimes Tess will sneak into his bed, and you hate it, but you donât hate Tess. She is capable of a lot in this world and you know she keeps Joel grounded, something you seem unable to do.Â
âLetâs head to mine and then we will try to track her down.â Joel says, unaware that Tess is already waiting in his room, her face beaten up and sore.
You sigh softly, knowing that you will do whatever he wants. Itâs dumb, but Joel had saved you when you arrived in the QZ, scared off some less than honorable people and you have been drawn to him ever since. Itâs hard being in love with a man who doesnât love you, doesnât even look at you like a woman, but you are loyal to him. He claims heâs not a good man, and thatâs true at times, but heâs good to you. âWeâll find her. Iâm sure sheâll be in your arms tonight.â You mutter, hating how your stomach twists in jealousy.
Joel pretends to not hear you, knowing you and Tess have some tension going on between you but he ignores it. This life is rough enough without needing to fucking deal with women drama. He gets what he needs when he wants and thatâs all that matters to him. He rolls his eyes and strides a little faster to get to his room.Â
When he opens the door, Tess is sitting there with her face bruised and swollen and heâs ready to fucking kill whoever did that to her.
âJesus.â You huff, eyes wide at her injuries. Itâs on the tip of your tongue to make a snarky comment, but instead you watch Joel fuss over her and clean up the wounds with the bottle of alcohol sitting next to the sink. It would be touching if it didnât break your heart. âWhat the fuck happened to you?â You ask finally as heâs dabbing at the corner of her mouth. You flop down on his sofa and glare at your feet.
Joel gently grips her chin as he cleans her up, his eyes burning into hers and he doesnât hear your question, too busy making sure Tess is okay. Neither of them see the crestfallen look on your face until your scowl covers it. Tess sighs, gently pushing Joelâs hand away as she explains that she was held hostage by a couple of Robertâs goons. Joel hisses in annoyance, knowing he shouldâve killed that asshole when he had the chance.
You hate how neither one of them includes you, feeling like an extra wheel. Dragging your feet off the coffee table you slap your hands on your thighs and stand. âSince sheâs home, I guess I better do the same.â You want Joel to tell you to stay, but you know he wonât. Wondering why you put yourself through this torture when he only had eyes for Tess.
Joel wants to ask you to stay but he needs to talk to Tess about what happened. He needs to form a plan and you distract him. âSee you later.â He tells you, not even looking your way and Tess offers you a slight smirk as she bids you goodbye. Joel tuts when you stomp out, slamming the door behind you. âTessâŚâ He murmurs, shaking his head.Â
âWhat? Sheâs like a damn puppy dog hanging around you all the time.âÂ
Joel snorts, âwhat does that make you?â
Tess frowns for a moment before she leans forward. âYou know what I am to you.â She challenges him, holding his gaze until he turns away. You have fucked everything up, everything was fine until you showed up and things changed. âJoel-â She pauses, deciding against asking a question she doesnât want to know the answer to, or at least have it confirmed. Instead she decides to change tactics. âWe need to go find Robert and our battery.â
Joel nods, âwe do. Iâll go find her and then we can get ahead. Get your shit together.â He orders, standing up and making his way out of the door to track you down. He needs you for backup and also, he is secretly amused at the way Tess frowns whenever you are mentioned. Tess isâŚTess is a comfort to him, the woman who has seen him at his worst and still wants him.Â
You are innocent really, still able to fight but you havenât seen that side of him. He doesnât want you to. He wants you to think of him as the closest version to the person he used to be. He misses that person sometimes, grieves him almost as much as he grieves Sarah. The small things heâd bitch about, like money or working late, are trivial compared to the issues he faces today.Â
When he finds you, you are sulking in your room, âcome on. I need you to help me and Tess track down Robert and his goons.â
Staring at him incredulously, you huff after a moment, bending down to pick up your boots. âYouâve got some fucking nerve, Miller.â You grumble, feeling like you are being taken advantage of right now. Joel doesnât comment, just sends you a satisfied look as you put your boots on and turns towards the door.Â
âGet your pack, we might need it.â He tells you before he walks out of your rooms like he owns the damn things. Your fault for letting him in, your fault for being so fucking in love with him that you let him walk all over you.Â
âThis is the last goddamn time.â You promise yourself, muttering angrily as you get ready.Â
Joel doesnât say anything, just raises his eyebrows as he listens outside. Both you and he know thatâs not true. When youâre ready, he guides you down the alleyways to meet up with Tess. âRight. Letâs go get this fucker. Iâm sick of his bullshit.â Joel huffs, making his way through the alleys to find the place Tess detailed when she told him where she was held.
âAwwww, you decided to come along, Iâm so touched.â Tess coos mockingly when you reach her, making you grit your teeth and want to punch her in her good eye.Â
âWell, someone has to clean up your mess.â You huff back.Â
âEnough.â Joel growls, shaking his head at you before he turns to Tess with a pointed look. They did that a fucking lot, silently communicate like you werenât fucking there.
Tess nods and Joel leads the way, entering the building with gun in hand and he creeps down the hall, using hand signals to gesture for you to walk or stop. He knows you and Tess have some fucking women issues between you but he doesnât care. He doesnât have time for that trivial shit.
Itâs not the time to be snarky. Instead of dwelling on the issues, you focus on the task at hand. All you care about is keeping Joel safe. Tess by extension just because you know that he would be upset if something happened to her. She was his woman, not you. Your own gun in your hand, you flank his left side as you follow, eyes peeled for any danger.Â
Joel is naturally anxious, keeping his eyes open and ears clear for any noises. When he spots the dead bodies of Robert and his goons, he doesnât give a fuck. He wants to know who did that to them. When the door to his right suddenly opens, he doesnât think. He just acts. Shoving the girl against the wall so she drops the knife and placing his foot on it, gun aimed at her. When Marlene appears, Joel narrows his eyes, listening as she begs him not to shoot.
Your fingers tense around your own weapon, aimed at the two fireflies in front of you. âWhatâs who he sold our battery to? The Che Guevara of Boston?â You roll your eyes at her humor but itâs true. Listening to her tell Joel that they need to take this girl to the state house to meet her group. âBring your puppy with you too.â You hiss at that, pissed off that Tessâs fucking nickname for you has caught on. âI tried to recruit her, but sheâs too loyal to you Joel.âÂ
Joel conceals the way his heart flutters at the news that you wanted to stay loyal to him. His face remains impassive and the girl tries to get her knife back while Marlene points out that she is bleeding and he needs to hurry up and decide. âFine.â He grunts after Tess states her case.
Huffing, you shake your head. âYou two have fun with that.â You know itâs a bad idea. This is bullshit and there are other places to get a battery.Â
âYouâre going with us.â Joel tells you sternly and you know that you will, if for anything but to watch his back.Â
âWe donât need her. Joel. Sheâll just be a liability.â Tess barely spares you a glance and that pisses you off more.Â
âIâm going.â You hiss, glaring at her.
Joel doesn't need this catty bullshit, the girl is glaring at him and it's putting him on edge. "Fine. Get your shit kid, we are leaving." He orders the girl, Ellie, who goes to get her knife back with a scowl. When night falls, Joel guides the group through the old tunnel that he uses to smuggle things in and once you're outside the QZ, Ellie's eyes widen.Â
"Holy shit." She gasps and a truck drives by.Â
"Get down!" Joel hisses, forcing you to duck alongside Ellie.
âJesus.â You hate being outside the QZ. Hate the risk and you know that itâs getting harder and harder every time. âWe need to move. The fucking soldiers have been crawling around.â You murmur quietly, looking around and shivering slightly in the rain.Â
Just as you get ready to move, the QZ guard who buys from Joel approaches you, gun raised. Joel doesnât even think, surging forward to start pummeling the guy to death. Heâs feral and thereâs nothing any of you can do except watch him. Ellie watches with a fascination while Tess stares impassively.
âJoel.â You know the man is capable of violence, youâve seen it, but this was unhinged. He turns back to look at the girl and you, the expression on his face is fierce and you shake your head after Tess shows him the red scanner. Sheâs infected. You listen to the hurried explanations and you know you need to have this conversation somewhere else. âWe need to go.â You tell him, picking up the knife that the kid had stuck in the bastardâs leg and handing it back to her. You donât know about her claim that sheâs immune, but she deserves to be able to protect herself out here. âTake the rifle.â
 Ellie takes it and Joel is almost dazed as you walk through the debris and overgrowth to find shelter in the city. Once youâve found where you usually stop, Joel slumps down in the chair, flexing his knuckles and hissing. Ellie looks exhausted and you tell her to get some sleep, youâre stopping here for the night. âSheâs infected.â Joel grunts when sheâs fast asleep, bringing yours and Tessâs eyes over to him.
âHer wound looked healed.â Of course it had been dark as shit, but bites from the infected never looked better. Itâs always inflamed as the fungal infection spreads through the body, taking over. You glance at his knuckles, wishing that you had ice to put on it. âYou should wrap it up.â You tell him.
Joel ignores you, just imagining what couldâve happened out there if that asshole had blabbed. Youâd all be dead. Hung for treason or some bullshit like that. âIâm fine.â He finally answers and Tess looks over at him, âsheâs right.â That Joel definitely ignores. He grunts, standing up, âIâll take first watch. You two get some sleep. Iâll watch the girl.â He says, grabbing his rifle and ignoring the pain in his knuckles when he grips the handle.
You sigh, knowing it wonât make a damn bit of difference, but you find yourself a corner away from the door so you have time to react and lay your pack down. Using it as a pillow as you turn your back to Joel and Tess. You donât want to see whatever else they do or talk about tonight, tired of being the third wheel and tired of feeling like you should just leave.
Joel keeps watch most of the night until Tess tells him to get half an hour. âLazy bitch couldnât even get up for a watch.â She scoffs at your sleeping form.Â
Joel shakes his head at her, âshe didnât sleep the night before. Trying to help me out by keeping an ear out for the radio. Just - let it, okay?â Joel asks and Tess snorts, nodding her head. He sits down, closing his eyes but he never truly relaxes, just rests until the sun starts to rise.Â
âWhat do we do with the girl?â Tess asks when he stands up, walking over to her.Â
âKill her.â Joel says, knowing that Marlene wouldnât find out. He could lie and say she got infected for real this time. Itâs not far from the truth. âWe donât know if sheâs gonna turn.â He murmurs, keeping his eyes on the curled up ball in the middle of the room.
Grunting, you wake up with a jolt, used to the nightmares that plague your sleep. Everyone in the fucking horror reality has them, or theyâve never lived outside the QZ they were born in. Flipping over, you notice that Joel and Tess are already awake, both of them watching the girl. âShoulda woke me.â You grumble, sitting up and rubbing the sleep from your eyes before you shuffle over towards Joel.
âYou needed the sleep.â Joel murmurs, ignoring the scoff from Tess. âWe should kill her.â Joel says with finality just as the girl wakes up, glancing around to see you sitting up and Joel sitting there with his rifle aimed towards her, anxious and tense as hell. âYou make one wrong move and Iâll kill ya.â He promises, making Ellie scoff and pull her sleeve up.Â
âIâm fine. No different than last night.â
You shift slightly, looking from Joel to Ellie. âWhy didnât she kill you?â You demand, asking about Marlene. Ellie explains about the daily testing and holds out her arm to show that it is perfectly steady. No tremor, which is normally the first sign of infection besides a bite. âJesus.â You shake your head, unsure of what all of these means and look back towards Joel. Itâs him she needs to convince. Or Tess rather because she can sway Joelâs opinion.
Joel considers not killing Ellie when Tess points out that it hasnât spread. âFine. Better get something to eat before we head out.â Joel says, sitting down, and he flexed his knuckles.Â
âBroken?â Tess asks and he shrugs, âhairline. It will heal fast.âÂ
You frown at that but still get your jerky out of your pack.Â
Ellie, meanwhile, pulls out a delicious looking sandwich and your eyes widen. âIs that chicken?â Tess asks and Ellie explains how Marlene got it from smugglers. Joel snorts, chewing on his jerky and trying to ignore the pain in his hand.
You hate that he is hurting, knowing that he canât take anything that would help because it would make him slower to react. Instead of offering to take the gun, you open your pack and offer him the precious bottle of aspirin you have. It took a month of ration cards to get it, and you normally used it when your cramps would get too bad. âHere.â You offer quietly, âto help with the swelling.â
Joel takes the pill, knowing itâs aspirin and trusting you. He swallows it dry and makes the decision to head out. âLetâs go. We need to take advantage of the daylight.â He says, standing up to grab his pack and the rifle. Ellie scrambles to pack up her pack again and soon enough, you are heading outside with Tess keeping close to Joel.
âDo we want to take the long way or the short way?â Joel asks and itâs not your opinion heâs actually asking for. Tess snorts.Â
âYou mean the long way or sure to die way.â She corrects sarcastically, making Ellieâs eyes widen dramatically and you roll your own. Youâve been the short way and itâs fine as long as you pay attention.Â
âI vote for the long way given the small amount of information available.â Ellie huffs, making you smirk.Â
âThe long way, fast.â You decide. âSooner we get her to the state house, the sooner you have the truck you need to get to Tommy.â Thatâs what all this is about after all, getting to his brother.
Joel nods, agreeing with you. You, Tess, and the girl trail behind him. Joel hears Tess telling the kid about Boston and the wreck it is now, but he isn't really listening, too busy scanning the area for any threats: human or infected.Â
He walks into the hotel and Ellie is amazed. "Wow. Did you guys ever stay somewhere like this?" She asks and Joel snorts while Tess says, "it was a bit out of our price range." You can't help but snort when Joel sasses the kid by hopping down onto the last step.Â
"Come on." You urge her forward and she rambles on about the hotel. When she rings the bell, Joel rolls his eyes and you shrug, offering him a look of amusement.
Halfway through the lobby when Ellie screams, you turn around and rush back through the water, unsure if itâs a clicker. Relieved when Joel isnât shouting and shooting, you find the decayed bones of an unfortunate bastard floating. He must have moved and scared the girl. You hum, watching as Joel offers her his hand, something that he wouldnât have done if he didnât somewhat believe her story about not being infected, so it bodes well for her. âCome on kid,â you offer, giving her a small smile. âLetâs go up to the rooms. Weâve got a hell of a climb.âÂ
Once you climb the ridiculous amount of stairs, Joel curses when he finds the exit has caved in. âFuck.â He grunts.Â
âI can fit through. Let me try and get through.â Tess says and Joel shakes his head, âwe can go the short way.âÂ
Tess huffs, âwe donât have time. Iâll be fine.â She promises and starts to climb through the debris. You hover near Ellie, trying to ignore the way your heart pangs at their secret look, only between them. It makes you feel like youâre a thousand miles away from them. Ellie slumps down on the floor and Joel follows suit, looking over at you while Ellie starts to ask him questions.
You fiddle with your gun, trying not to feel like you are stuck in the middle of a Q&A that you donât want to be at. Snickering to yourself when Ellie sasses back at Joel that she knows where Detroit is. Only to be surprised moments later when Joel actually knows where you are from. You had only told him once and assumed that he had forgotten or didnât care enough. âSo you and her areâŚ.â Joelâs entire body tenses.Â
âPass.â Of course he wouldnât define their relationship, he doesnât ever acknowledge things Tess says in front of you, but he doesnât deny them either.Â
Ellie huffs and turns her inquisitive eyes towards you. âSo that means you and her areâŚâŚâ She trails off, trying to get either one of you to fill in the gaps.Â
Joel grunts, âpass.â He doesnât want to talk about you or Tess with Ellie.Â
âAre you- is it like a throuple situation?â She guesses and Joel snorts, ânope.âÂ
You and Tess would kill each other before you fuck each other. âAbsolutely not.â You wrinkle your nose at being with Tess. God, she gets under your skin but she is important to Joel.Â
âRightttt.â Ellie drawls just as thereâs a thumping on the door. Joel stands up, gun in hand, anxious until Tess shouts her announcement that sheâs back. Joel sighs slightly, relieved to see Tess, and he gestures for you and Ellie to get your shit.
Your stomach knots, knowing that the hardest part is coming up but there is something calming about the view from the terrace. Looking out over the ruins of the city that you had wished to have visited before all of the world went to shit. Tess pulls back the heavy plastic curtain so Ellie can get her first look and you walk up to the ledge.Â
Ellie has to step up on the little ledge and she looks down at the courtyard below. âThereâs so many of them.â Ellie exhales, looking at that view. You shift to stand next to her, Joel on the other side. Tess starts to talk, explaining the way the fungus spreads. âTheyâre connected.â Tess hums. âMore than you know.â Joel looks over at you and meets your eyes for a second.Â
You wish that he cared about you, but he doesnât. You tear your eyes away from his and listen to Tess tell Ellis about how the tendrils spread underground, alerting other infected to your location. âYouâre not immune from being ripped apart.â Tess cautions her. âYou understand?â For a moment, the woman you hold such a grudge against seems almost motherly and you wish that she could talk to you with half the kindness, although you know youâve not been exactly nice to her. Your feelings for Joel getting in the way of that.
âSo weâre not going that way.â Ellie huffs and you shake your head, knowing whatâs coming. âShort way?â She asks, looking between the three of you and you look to Joel for his opinion.Â
âMuseum.â He decides, making you roll your shoulders in anticipation of the problems ahead.Â
You are anxious, preparing yourself to enter the museum and Joel glances at you, "be careful." He tells you softly, ignoring the glance from Tess. He opens the door, pleased after discovering the fungal roots are dry. He enters the Bostonian Museum, keeping his gun raised and ready.
Blowing out a soft breath, you grip your gun in your hand tightly and keep your head on a swivel as you watch your steps. The museum is dark and all you have for light is the flashlights, the kid breathing heavily at your back and you swear you hear her huff under her breath because Joel wouldnât let her have a gun. She looks around, taking in the scene as the old building creaks and groans around you. âYeah, cooked.â Joel says and Tess grunts.Â
âFinally some fucking luck.â Ellie steps forward, almost carelessly at their conversation. âI guess we should have gone this way in the first place.â Joel hums, not watching as Ellie turns a corner.Â
âOh shit!â
You rush over and shine another light on the body she discovered, groaning to yourself when you see that the person has been ripped up. Knowing what causes that. âWhat the fuck did that?â She demands, making you shush her quickly. You look over at Tess and Joel, the other woman looking nervous.Â
âMaybe.â Tess whispers. âMaybe he was attacked outside. Crawled through the door, the door was open. It could have been him.â She insists, making you roll your eyes and scoff quietly. She knows thatâs not what happened.Â
âI donât hear anything.â She insists. âWhat would you hear?â Ellie demands, her voice at a normal volume and all three of you turn towards her to quiet her down.
Joel holds his hand up, telling Ellie to quieten down. âWhat would you hear?â She repeats in a whisper, âyou saying an infected did that?â Tess shushes her and you bite your lip. â-because Iâve been attacked by one and it wasnât like that.â Ellie looks back at the body.Â
âOkay from this point forward we are silent. Not quiet, silent.âÂ
Ellie shakes her head âwhat-âÂ
Joel cuts her off, âno questions. Just do it.â Joel is anxious, always tense when heâs in closed spaces, and he slowly makes his way up the stairs. Itâs difficult to move so slow but he is careful when he steps on the dried fungus. He manages to make it up the stairs and onto the second floor. He opens the door, walking in with his gun ready. The ceiling collapses and Tess shoves Ellie forward, pushing her into you and the three of you fall onto the floor. Joel helps Ellie up and thatâs when you hear it. A clicker.
Shit. Your gun comes up and you immediately move in front of Ellie, flanking Joel to his left and Tess to his right. Youâre trapped in a room with a fucking clicker. You donât dare to breathe, barely creeping forward since they rely on hearing, totally blind with the large, hard fungal growth covering their heads. You hear her breathing start to pick up and you turn to find her wide as you realize there is more than one. All of you crouch down behind a display and Joel motions to Ellie that they rely on hearing. You can see the terror on her face, making the way your heart is pounding in your chest. Joel puts his finger to his lips again as they continue to make horrible screeches and clicks as they search for the source of the sounds. The clicker comes around the display and the little girl sees it for the first time, inhaling sharply.Â
Shit. The clicker turns and screeches before Joel brings his gun up to shoot it.Â
Itâs terrifying, fighting for your life, and you are scared that Joel is gonna get bitten. You scramble to shoot the clicker but eventually you run out of bullets. Joel curses, âfucking go.â He hisses, âIâll distract it.â You rush to hide around a corner to reload your gun. The girl and Tess are across the room and your hands shake as you struggle to reload your weapon. â
Fuck.â You hiss and Joel comes to stand beside you, doing the same thing. His eyes are full of fear and you stare back at him until you hear the clicks.
Your eyes close for a brief second, well aware that this could be it for you. You hate it. The fact that you could die in this fucking museum and never find Tommy. Never tell Joel how you feel. The floorboards creak and you hear the clicks right next to you. Another sound draws its attention and you turn to watch it, finding Ellie cowering behind a display and both you and Joel creep over to her. Making your way silently until Joel steps on a piece of broken glass. You cry out and start shooting as the clicker flies over the display and knocks all three of you to the ground, trying to infect you as you fight it off.Â
Joel curses, scrambling to keep the clicker away from you and Ellie and himself. Itâs a struggle but eventually he manages to push it aside and put a bullet in its neck and eventually itâs face. Just as that one falls, the other rushes forward and Tess swings an axe into its head. Joel scrambles to grab his rifle, shooting the bastard in the head to kill it. âYou alright?â Joel asks Tess as she stands.Â
âTwisted ankle.âÂ
He turns to you, eyes wide and asks you the same question. âIâm fine.â You answer and Tess asks Ellie who exhales shakily, âwell I didnât shit my pants.â
You canât help but laugh at her response, knowing you felt the same way the first time you dealt with clickers. âAre you fucking kidding me?â Turning back towards the kid, your eyes widen when you see that sheâs injured again. âAhâŚI mean if it was going to happen to one of us.âÂ
You catch the way that Tess tenses up, making you frown slightly but sheâs quickly redirecting the conversation. âHey, letâs get out of here.â
Making your way onto the roof, itâs obvious that Tess needs medical attention. Joel hands Ellie a rag for her arm and turns his attention to Tess. Leaving you to walk over to the other girl and help her while he concentrates on wrapping her ankle. âCome here. Iâll help you.â It will be a good distraction, tending to her wound rather than watching Joel fret over a twisted ankle. Soon her arm is wrapped and sheâs walking towards the edge and the scaffolding that connects the two buildings. âOver there?â She asks and Joel barely glances at her. âYeah, I know it looks scary.â Joel starts but Ellie interrupts him. âThat was scary, this is wood.â She huffs as she brazenly walks across the beam and makes you smirk at the other two adults.Â
"Just wait there. Give us a minute." Joel says and you step to follow Ellie across the wood, not wanting to see the tenderness Joel gifts Tess with. "Be careful." Joel warns you while opening his backpack. You scoff, walking across the wood as brazenly as Ellie. Joel shakes his head, while he tapes Tess's ankle.Â
"Told you, she's trouble." Her eyes focus on Joel but he doesn't notice, set on the job at hand. "There's probably more ahead."Â
Tess nods, "so we'll deal with it then...I got it. I got it." She tells Joel when he wraps around her ankle again.Â
Joel leans back to look at Tess until his gaze turns to the building across from them. "What about the kid?" He asks, "maybe the first bite didn't take but what about the second?"Â
Tess huffs, turning towards him, "why don't you just take the good news? Can you do that?" She asks Joel, "can you just for once think that we might actually win?" Tess asks and shakes her head, "just go and watch her and your fucking puppy."Â
Joel sighs, grabbing his backpack and rifle before making his way across the wood. âWow.â Ellie exhales, looking at that view. You shift to stand next to her, Joel on the other side.Â
âIs that everything you hoped for?â Joel asks Ellie as you stare across what used to be a major city now turned to a deserted urban jungle.Â
âJuryâs still out.â Ellie replies back, âbut manâŚyou canât deny that view.â You hum in agreement and Joel looks at Ellie before his eyes meet yours for a second.
âTess gonna live?â You ask, breaking the moment up but you hate how his eyes seem to suck you in. Itâs not going to happen for you and you need to accept that. Youâve already decided that when Joel and Tess get their vehicle from the Fireflies, you are going to stay. Youâll go with them or turn around and find a way back to the QZ. You canât do this anymore. Itâs too hard and you know that it will never be you that he picks. Stupid of you to fall for a man who was obviously involved with someone whether or not he admitted it. Joel rolls his eyes, not answering you and you swallow harshly. âWhen we get to the state house-â You start, wanting to tell him your plan, but Tess comes hobbling up.Â
âCome on, let's get there before itâs darkâ She demands, impatient to get moving again as she swings herself onto the ladder.Â
Ellie goes next and then you look at Joel who nods at you. You nod and make your way down the ladder, firm in your decision. Joel glances at his watch, thinking about Sarah, and forces himself to keep going. As you walk towards the state building, Joel glances down at Ellieâs arm. Cautious and wondering if sheâs gonna turn at any second. When you arrive, thereâs no one there and you duck behind a car to see if anyone shows. âWhere the fuck are they?â Tess asks and Joel shakes his head, looking back at Tess before his eyes meet yours.Â
He stands, rifle in his grip, and he makes his way over to the truck. Cautious and alert, he opens the passenger door and turns back to you, Tess and Ellie. âStay back.â He orders, making his way around the truck to find the back is empty.
âJoel, what the fuck is going on?â You, Tess and Ellie come towards the truck and Joel shakes his head.Â
âI donât know.âÂ
You look around, a bad feeling settling in the pit of your stomach. âThey went inside.â Ellie tells you, pointing to the blood on the ground and you sigh, knowing that is never a good sign.Â
Tess seems to take this as a personal attack and grabs Ellieâs hand as she marches towards the steps. âTess.â Joel huffs, making you roll your eyes but you follow are the pair. Not for Tessâs sake, but for the girls. You know Joel will be right behind you. You walk into the state house, finding all of the crew dead on the floor in the middle of a vegetation patch.Â
âHoly shit.â Ellie hisses, and you have to agree. This is bad.Â
âFuck.â You hiss under your breath, checking for signs of FEDRA or if it was infected that got them.Â
Tess searches the bodies, âI mean thereâs gotta be a fucking radio or something, right?â She says, searching the crate closest to her.Â
âWho killed them? FEDRA?â Ellie asks and you shrug, glancing back at Joel who pulls the body at his feet back onto its back.Â
âNo. One of them got bit. The healthy ones fought the sick ones. Everyone lost. Tess? Whatâre you doinâ?â He asks, turning back towards her as she continues searching.Â
Tess steps towards the girl and you edge your way in front of her to protect her. âWhere did Marlene say that she was taking you? Ellie!âÂ
The girl steps forward, âuh. I donât know. Just west.âÂ
Tess turns away, âjust west. Fuck. Okay. Well, I mean one of themâs gotta have a map on them, right?â She says more to herself. âJoel, can you help me?â She asks, nearly begging.Â
Joel shakes his head, âno! Tess, itâs over. We are going home.â He walks towards her, wanting to get everyone back to the QZ and safe.Â
Tess growls, âthatâs not my fucking home.â Joel stares at her, eyes unreadable as Tess stands up. âIâm stayinâ.â She declares, âI mean, our luck had to run out sooner or later.âÂ
Joelâs face falls and your eyes widen just as Ellie says, âfuck. Sheâs infected.â Joel turns back to Tess, staring at her, almost begging her with his eyes for that to not be true.
âShow me.â Joel demands and you can hear the agony in the two words. He doesnât want to believe it, doesnât want it to be true. Your stomach drops, hating that she has been infected despite your differences. It didnât mean you wanted her dead.Â
âJoel.â She takes a step towards him and instinctively, he jolts backwards, pulling away from her. You walk towards the kid and put your arm around her shoulder gently, wanting to comfort her. Tess pulls her jacket away so you can see the bite on her neck and you close your eyes. âOops.â She jokes. âRight?â She turns to Ellie. âTake your bandage off.â You help Ellie take the bandage off to reveal that her own wounds from the clickers havenât gotten any worse. Sheâs not infected. Walking over, she takes the girl's arm. âLook, Joel.â She demands, holding it up for him to inspect. âThis is real. Joel sheâs fucking real.â She insists. âI need you to get her to Bill and Franks.âÂ
âNo,â Joel shakes his head.Â
âTheyâll take her off your hands. Theyâll handle it from here.âÂ
âNo, no, no, I canât. They wonât take her. Theyâre not going to take her.â He frowns.Â
âThey will âcause youâll convince them.â Tess tells him. âYes you will. I never ask you for anything. Not to feel the way I feltâŚâ You frown in confusion, not understanding what the fuck she is talking about. Joel loves her.Â
âNo.â Joel shakes his head but Tess interrupts him.Â
âNot toâŚshut the fuck up because I donât have time.â Joel looks devastated and you clutch Ellieâs shoulder as you try not to react to this entire scene being played out in front of you.Â
âThis is your chance. You get her there, you keep her alive, and you set everything right. I know you donât feel the same way I do but you need to stop burying your feelings. Life is too damn short to keep lying to yourself.â Tess says, her eyes meeting yours before she looks back at Joelâs. âAll the shit we didâŚâ She looks over at you, âhe was gonna offer you up to Robert. He was gonna trade sex with you for the battery we needed.âÂ
Your jaw drops and Joel refuses to look at you, keeping his gaze on Tessâs. âLittle puppy dog, always following him around. Thinkinâ you were the third wheel when it was always me.â Tess chuckles humorlessly and shakes her head. âPlease say yes, Joel, please.â Tess begs and Joelâs gaze shifts over to you.Â
The way youâre looking at him is enough to make him say no. He wants to protect you, protect the girl. He canât do that if he takes you both to Bill and Frankâs. âPlease.â Tess begs again just as the body behind Ellie shifts to crawl.Â
âOh fuck!â The teenager yells and ducks behind you and Joel when you move her out of the way. Joel doesnât hesitate to take his gun out, killing the bastard, and his jaw is clenched when he sees the fungus curling around the dead digits. He looks towards the door and rushes past Tess to open it. Eyes panicked when he looks back after shutting the door.Â
âHow many?â Tess asks.Â
âAll of them. Maybe a minute.â Joel says, spinning around in a panic to face you but you refuse to meet his eye.
Tess gets to work, pushing over the barrels of gasoline, spilling it over the ornate tile floor. âWhat are you doing?â You ask and Tess answers with âmaking sure they donât follow you.âÂ
Joel is frozen, facing the reality that the woman whoâs been his right hand for so long is not walking out of this building with him. He steps closer to her, grenades roll across the floor. âJoel.â Tess moves to stand in front of him. âJoel.â She repeats and he finally meets her gaze. âSave who you can save.â She orders, her eyes flicking over to you before she meets his dark stare.Â
Heâs struggling. Part of him wants to drag Tess out of here but the other side of him wants to keep you safe. Heâs torn and eventually, the side of the living wins. He stares at Tess, offering her a small nod, and he spins, grabbing Ellieâs hand and wrapping his arm around your waist. âStop! Weâre not leaving her. Get off of me you fucker! Iâm not going with you!â Ellie shouts and you let Joel drag you out of the building. Heâs frantic to get you away before the building explodes with Tess inside of it.Â
âHurry up.â He growls, dragging you both until youâre far enough away. He ducks down as the glass explodes, shoving you on the floor, and he grabs his rifle to aim it in case any infected chase after you.Â
Ellie stands beside him, watching their bodies fall to the floor with the flames, and Joel eventually lowers the gun. âJoelâŚâ You trail off and he shakes his head, turning to walk away. Ellie lingers for a moment until you step forward to follow him.
Your jaw rocks and you shake your head, unable to believe that he had refused to even talk to you after Tess dropped that bomb on you. At least she told you before she died, even though it was supposed to be one last barb through your heart. âIâm not going.â You decide, stopping short, only a few hundred feet from where you had watched the building explode. âThis is your mission. For Tess.â You turn around and start walking back the way you just came, sure that the infected will be burned now given the size of the fire bomb and the smoke still billowing from the building.
Joel pauses, watching you for a moment until he strides forward to grab your wrist, pulling you back to stop you walking away. âYou ainât going anywhere. Itâs too dangerous. Stop movinâ.â He growls when you try to pull out of his grip. âI donât understand. What - why you wanna go back?â
Instead of trying to pull out of his grip, you spin around, slapping him across his cheek. âYou fucking bastard!â You hiss, yanking your wrist away from him as he loosens his grip in shock. âYou were going to- going to fucking sell me to Robert for your fucking battery!â Hot tears spill down your cheeks and you donât even bother wiping them away. âI knew you didnât-â you break off, âfuck you, Miller.â
Joel is shocked that you slapped him and he hisses, âJesus Christ.â He curses Tess despite her soul not even leaving the damn earth yet. âI didnât sell you. He wanted you and I said no. I fuckinâ told him no.â He clarifies, ignoring the wide eyed look from Ellie.Â
âTell me you didnât think about it.â You challenge him, chest heaving as you step closer and square up to him. âTell me that you didnât consider it.â Joel doesnât answer you and your chin trembles when you see the guilt in his eyes. âI thought so.â You choke out. âI fucking loved you and you were going to whore me out to save money and get your goddamn battery.â
He shakes his head, âno baby. I didnât - I didnât do it though.â He chokes, knowing you hate him and he doesnât know why that destroys him when heâs fought so hard to keep you at arms length. âYou canât love me, okay? Iâm - Iâm a fucking mess and I was fooling around with Tess until I realized that I -â He cuts himself off, knowing that itâs getting dangerous.
âUntil you what? Couldnât whore her out?â You spit, shaking your head at him. âI put up with the stupid fucking nickname. âPuppy dogâ.â You sneer. âGuess thatâs what I was, huh? A stupid little puppy dog that doesnât fucking realize sheâs not wanted. Following you around, helping you, trying to make you- fuck, I donât know.â You lift your hands helplessly and slap them down against your thighs. âMake you love me, I guess. But thatâll never happen. Iâm not Tess.â You close your eyes, and sigh. âJust- go to take Ellie where Tess wanted you to, go find your brother. Iâll- Iâll be fine. Iâm not your problem.â
He knows he will lose you forever if he lets you go now and heâs lost so much in his life. The burden he carries every damn day with each life he loses around him. He canât lose you too. He brushes over what you said to finish his own sentence. âI was fooling around with Tess until I realized that I was fuckinâ in love with you and Jesus fuckinâ Christ that terrifies me.â He confesses, chest heaving.
You frown, not believing him for a second. âDonât lie to me, Joel.â You sob out angrily. âYou at least owe me the fucking truth.âÂ
Ellie steps forward. âHey so, uh- itâs-âÂ
You turn around and glare at her. âNot now!â You hiss, wanting to finish this so you can leave and find some place to hole up for the night before sneaking back into the QZ. âShe was practically living in your apartment. She was there every damn night. Now you want to tell me you werenât fucking her?â
âI stopped. We werenât - we were planninâ the smuggling. We werenât doing shit other than figurinâ out how to get shit past the wall, past FEDRA. Jesus, sweetheart, I didnât - I donât want to put you in danger. Iâve been tryinâ to keep you safe. Tess knew how I feel. Shit, she was jealous and thatâs why she called you my puppy dog. I shouldâve stopped it but doing that wouldnât meant acknowledging these fuckinâ feelings that Iâve been tryinâ to squash down. Love doesnât succeed in this goddamn hellhole. Love is a weakness and I - shit - you make me weaker than a paper straw under a one ton weight.â
You donât know if you believe him. The sting of finding out that he had even thought about giving you to Robert, even for a moment, stings. But you know it would be safer for Ellie if there was more than one capable adult looking out for her ass. Thereâs enough of you that immediately wants to forgive Joel that you stare into his dark eyes for a moment before you nod. âFine.â You whisper. âIâllâŚ.go with you on this fucking haul.âÂ
Joel is relieved that you are coming along. He knows this conversation isnât over but you need to get moving. Get to some kind of shelter before it gets dark. âCome on baby. We can talk later. Letâs get safe first.â He says, grabbing his rifle. Ellie raises her eyebrows at him as he walks past her.Â
âNever knew you were so emotional, Joel.â She scoffs, remembering the books that would be passed around in secret at the school about romance and how the guy would kiss the girl after declaring he loved her.
Instead of following directly behind Joel, you put the girl between you and him. Bringing up the rear for safety as well as to give you some space to allow for thinking about what the fuck you are going to do. You know Joel isnât a âgood manâ in the pre-end of the world morality. Maybe he was then, but this life, this world changed everyone - you included. You donât even know as much as Tess might have, but you know that he had saved you when he could have killed you. That he didnât give you to Robert. Biting your lip, you wonder if thatâs why he was choking the bastard the day before yesterday. Not that it mattered, the fucker was dead. Sighing softly, you shift your gaze around the fading light to look for somewhere to safely pass the night.Â
Joel guides you through the forest that is invading Boston, nature taking back what is rightfully hers. Joel sighs, holding his rifle, until he comes around a sheltered area. Itâs not comfortable but itâs safe and thatâs all that matters. âWe will set up here.â He declares, watching the tree line for any disturbances and when he doesnât find any, he shrugs his pack off.
You donât speak, just shrug off your own pack and set it down as you start to get the area ready for the night. While the infected werenât in this area, wild animals were. A fire would be necessary to keep them from getting too close and you know that the sun will be setting soon. You start to drag trash and debris closer, scrapping out an area to start the fire and pile things high. Joel canât move much, not with his hand even though he would protest over it.Â
Joel watches you start the fire and Ellie sits down on the ground, opening her pack to pull her sandwich out. Sheâs starving and she doesnât want to wait to eat. When youâve started the fire, Joel pulls out his food and water, holding it out towards you. âYou gotta eat, sweetheart.â He says, watching you sit down across from him. He will mourn Tess later when he takes watch. He doesnât want to show his emotions now when youâve shattered him with your onslaught.
Shaking your head, you donât take his offerings. âYou need it more than me.â You tell him as you reach for your own pack. âI have my own but I just-â You bite your lip. âIâm going to sleep first. You take first watch and wake me in a few hours.â You donât let him argue, setting your pack up as a pillow and turning your back on him and the girl, curling in on yourself and forcing yourself to close your eyes.Â
He doesnât argue, knowing you need to rest and he needs time to think. Ellie looks at him as he starts to chew on the jerky and he ignores her raised eyebrows. âDonât say a word, kid.â He orders, shaking his head after he swallows the chewy bark.Â
Ellie rolls her eyes, âwhatever dude. You canât see whatâs right in front of you. What Tess saw.â She says and continues eating. Joel grimaces, thinking of Tess. He tried to hide how he felt about you from her, thinking he had been successful but he wasnât.
You donât know how long youâve been asleep, but your jerk awake with a gasp. Your hand reaches for the gun that is right next to you and you flip over to try to figure out what woke you. The fire is still burning and the kid is curled but about five feet from you, wedged between the concrete wall and the fire. Joel is still awake, his eyes watching as you sit up. âShit.â You huff, putting the gun down and blinking rapidly. âGet some sleep, Iâll take over.â You promise, groaning quietly as you move to your feet to stretch.
Joel shakes his head, âno. I wanna talk. Come here.â He pats the space beside him, wanting you to come and sit down.Â
You hesitate but eventually sit down beside him. âWhat is it Joel?â You murmur, not wanting to rehash this bullshit.Â
âShut up.â He orders and you open your mouth. âShut the fuck up.â He hisses, pissed off with you. âIâm not gonna make this damn speech again, okay? I donât do this shit. Not since before outbreak day. I - I love you. I donât want to lose you. I donât - I canât lose someone else and I - I havenât felt this way in so damn long and I tried to ignore it but I love you. Iâm in love with you darlinâ and that fuckinâ terrifies me.â
His speech startles you, not expecting to hear something like that. Not from him. You close your eyes and absorb the words that you have wanted to hear for so long, believing them to be nothing more than a wistful dream. âIâm sorry.â You offer. âFor that, I guess. For Tess.â You have to look away from his dark gaze, unable to look at him for too long without wanting to kiss him. âIâm not sorry that I love you though.â You murmur, looking into the fire. âItâs- it hurt everyday but it was worth it.â
He turns to look at you, his brown eyes almost orange as they reflect the flames of the fire. Heâs slow, giving you a chance to pull away but he leans in, cupping your cheek. His calloused thumb caresses the skin there and he leans in to kiss your lips. Itâs soft, the opposite of him, but he wants this moment to be good, to be memorable in case you donât make it past tomorrow. In this life, every day is a bonus.
Eyes slipping closed, you want to live in this moment. Joelâs lips on yours makes your entire body tingle. Reaching up and taking his hand while your other finds his shoulders. Moaning softly because you canât believe this is happening and you never expect it to be so gentle.
Joel groans softly into the kiss, grabbing your ass to pull you into his lap. Straddling him and he glances over your shoulder to make sure the kid is still asleep. âFuck.â Joel groans when you are pressed against him, his lips finding your jaw and he kisses until his lips press against yours again.
You whine again his lips when his hands squeeze your ass just like youâve imagined more times than you ever want to admit. Wrapping your arms around his neck and shamelessly grinding down on the bulge in his jeans that you had always salivated over. âJoel.â You whisper, not wanting to wake the kid. âI-â he shushes you, pressing his lips to yours again.
His hands slide under your shirt, wanting to feel more of you, and he groans when you grind down on him again, cock hardening in his jeans. He thinks youâre gorgeous, fucking gorgeous, and heâs jerked off thinking about you too many lonely nights after he stopped sleeping with Tess. âWe gotta be quiet.â He orders, sliding his hands higher so he can undo the clasp of your bra. He doesnât take it off, just pushes it up your chest so he can slide his hands around your torso to cup your tits, squeezing them in his rough hands.
Thereâs a voice in the back of your mind that wonders if this is because Tess is dead. If youâre merely replacing her for him. You push it down, ignore it. You donât care when you are getting to touch him like youâve always wanted to. Ducking your head down and kissing the bare patch on his jaw like youâve always wanted to. Your fingers fumbling with his belt as you try to get him free from his pants. You canât ride him like this, not without taking your pants off and thatâs dangerous. Hell, this is too dangerous really. Youâre distracted by him.
He knows this is dangerous, the girl could wake up, but he desperately wants to feel you. He works on your pants, unbuttoning them and he shoves his hand inside, cupping your cunt after sliding under your panties. He finds you wet but not dripping and his fingers rub your clit after sliding through your folds.
You swear youâre going to bite through your lip trying to keep quiet. Loving the thick fingers youâve watched so many times slide though your folds and press against your clit. âJoel.â You pant, needing more from him. âI- you have to fuck me.â You gasp out. âPlease. Just- just once.â You know that he might change his mind come morning. That he could put that wall back up but you will be happy if you just get one night. âPlease, baby. I need you.â
He nods, knowing he needs that connection. Losing Tess, nearly losing you, itâs been a long ass day and he wants to connect to you. He whispers for you to stand up and he withdraws his fingers, making you whine softly. When you stand, he pulls your jeans and panties down to your ankles, dragging you back into his lap so you are straddling him, cunt bare to the cool night air. He reaches down to take his cock out, âcanât cum inside of you. Gonna need you to let me drag you off when I cum.â He whispers, knowing he wonât risk you like that.
You nod quickly, readily agreeing to whatever he wants. âI know- itâs- itâs okay.â You promise, reaching down and wrapping your hand around the thick head of his cock and moaning quietly at the smear of pre-cum building up on the tip so gorgeously. âI-â instead of telling him that you love him again, you rock your hips forward and line him up so you can sink down on him with a moan of his name that is pressed to his shoulder as you take him.
Fuck, youâre so tight. Hot and wet around him and you mean so much to him. His heart thumps in his chest while his cock twitches when you bottom out. âFuckkkk.â He hisses through his teeth, hands gripping your ass and he struggles to remain calm as he allows you a moment to adjust around him. âGotta be quiet.â He whispers in your ear, kissing the skin beneath it.
âYou- you might have to cover my mouth.â You admit breathlessly, whispering the words to him as you flash him a quick smile. âAlways been loud in bed.â An irony in a world where youâve had to be silent at so many times when you just wanted to scream. Your fingers sink into his hair and you tug on it slightly as you start to move, wanting to ride him and eager to feel this incredible cock filling you more.
Joel knows he will want more after this. Heâs already addicted to you and the thought of ever giving this up, you up, has him on edge. He presses his lips to yours, silencing you with his tongue, and he groans softly when your walls grip him tight when you find the angle that works for you. His hands slide up and down your back, squeezing your ass and enjoying how damn good you feel around him.
You try to stifle your sounds but itâs hard when he feels like heâs in your fucking throat. Stretching you out and making you feel more relaxed than you have in years, while craving more. Your tongue tangles with his while your thighs start to push up and down, moving yourself on his length in a way that keeps you as close as possible. Needing to feel every inch of him as much as you can.
Joel is trying to hang on to his composure, resist the urge to roll you over and just slam into you, fuck you into the ground, but he canât. The kid is there. He canât do that now. So he lets you lead, just pulling back to watch you work yourself on his cock. When your mouth opens to moan again, he shoves two fingers in there, wanting you to keep quiet. âCanât wake the kid, darlinâ. You gotta keep quiet.â He reminds you, leaning in to rasp in your ear.
His hands are dirty, filthy. You should want to spit them out but you donât. Not even caring at this point. The feeling of his cock shredding up into you every time your hips fall is too good to care. His voice rumbling in your ear makes your cunt clench around him, swearing you can cum from him talking.
Thereâs so much to say to you and yet he canât. The risk is too much, to both waking up the kid, and to his own heart. He canât bring himself to say anything but he does lean in to kiss you, replacing his fingers with his lips, and his hand finds your clit. Rubbing tight circles in it as he gets closer to his own orgasm.
You whimper, groaning as he keeps rubbing your clit. Trying to keep quiet but itâs so hard when he feels this good. Your arms tighten around him and you kiss him harshly, feeling your cunt bottom out and your entire body light up with pleasure as you start to cum for him.
âThatâs it baby.â Joel practically exhales into your mouth as you clamp down on his cock, body shaking against his. He pulls you closer, thrusting up into you as best he can until heâs pushing you onto the ground beside him, barely managing to shift onto his knees to cum on the dirt and not ruin your clothing. He pants, chest heaving while his cock twitches in his hand. âJesus Christ.â He exhales, letting go of his cock to tuck himself away and he shuffles over to where you are on the ground. âSorry baby. Couldnât - needed to pull out.â
âItâs fine.â You pant, understanding why he needed to pull out, but wishing he hadnât. âYou canât risk it.â Youâve never told him anyway and in the moment isnât a good time anyway. Itâs not like it matters anyway. You shuffle quietly, trying to pull your clothes back on and put yourself to rights.
Joel watches you put your clothes back on and once youâre settled, he reaches for your hand, dragging you close to wrap his arms around you. He breathes you in, relieved that he didnât lose you today. He lost Tess, which he will process and grieve in his own way, but right now, heâs just happy to have you. He loves you, he really does. He wishes he had told you sooner but this life is unpredictable at the best of times. You have a journey ahead with him to get to Bill and Frankâs and he will do everything he can to keep you safe. Whatever it takesâŚhe wonât lose anyone else he loves.
****
Joel reluctantly turns over the responsibility of watch to you. He needs rest, you know he didnât sleep last night and heâs had a fucking hell of a day. You all had, but him most of all. Whatever him and Tess had been towards the end, he had cared for her in his own way and he needed to grieve her. You keep the fire crackling, staring into the flames when you arenât watching the inky blackness around your small space and listening for more than the rustles of wildlife. Your jerky and your water bottle your own companions through the rest of the night until the first rays of sun peak over the horizon and the sky begins to brighten.
When Joel wakes up, you and Ellie are talking, and he winces at the sunlight, trying to figure out how long heâs been asleep. âWhy didnât you wake me?â He grunts and you shake your head, âyou needed to sleep.âÂ
Ellie nods, âyeah man. You had a rough day yesterday.âÂ
He sits up, running his fingers through his hair and he shifts to stand up. âWe gotta get going. Get your shit together. Iâm gonna take a piss.â He stumbles to the tree line, gun in hand and he checks his surroundings before he shoves the weapon in the back of his jeans and pulls his cock out to pee. When he returns, youâve put the fire out and are ready to go. Joel grabs his pack and leads the way, rifle in hand.
You walk alongside Ellie for a bit, hanging back as you try to figure out how to tell Joel. You should, he deserves to know. âSo, uh, did you work your shit out?â Ellie asks, making you look over at her. âCause I donât want it to be a tense trip.â She offers, making you snort.Â
âItâs going to be a tense trip regardless.â You remind her, the journey is no walk in the park for sure. âBut weâve talked. While you were asleep.â
Ellie snorts, âtalked. Sure.â She doesnât believe you just talked. Sheâs not dumb. She learned about all that in school and she knows thatâs how most adults show how they feel. You fluster and look at Joel as he strides ahead, rifle gripped in his hand. He sighs and looks over his shoulder at you and Ellie.
You see Joel jerk his head towards you, motioning for you to come up beside him. Eager to get away from Ellieâs prying questions, you hustle forward and catch up to him. âSomething up?â You ask, wondering if he wants to talk about the plan for getting Ellie to Bill and Frankâs.
Joel turns to look at you as you come alongside him, âeverything okay with the kid?â He asks and you nod, âyeah sheâs good.âÂ
He sighs, âyou think sheâs gonna be okay with Bill and Frank?â You shrug, âwho knows.â Joel glances behind him again to see Ellie looking around and he takes a chance to reach out and hold your hand.
Shocked, you look down at his large hand wrapped around yours, holding it tight and yet heâs not crushing it. Your heart thumps in your chest and itâs impossible to not fall more in love with him. âJoel- I need to tell you something.â You murmur softly, not wanting Ellie to hear.â You can feel him tense up but you squeeze his hand reassuringly. âItâs not- itâs nothing bad. Or, I guess itâs better to say, "I made peace with it a long time ago.â You take a deep breath. âYou donât have to worry about getting me pregnant.â You confess. âI can never have kids.â
Joel frowns, turning to look at you. "You can't - shit. Baby, I'm so sorry." He murmurs, knowing it must've been hard to process. "What - what did they say?" He is curious and wants to know why you can't have kids. He also wants to comfort you but all he can do is squeeze your hand. Even this is more intimacy than he is used to displaying.
âPremature ovarian failure.â You roll your eyes at the words that had been told you so many years ago. âBasically, I stop producing eggs.â You explain. âI found out about two years before the end of the world. So I guess itâs handy?â You try, your joke falling flat. âNot that I would want to have kids in a world like this. Itâs not fair to them. Not fair to her.â You nod back towards Ellie. âI just- if we, you know, againâŚ.you donât have to pull out if you donât want to. If you do, I get it.â
Joel feels guilty that he is happy to hear he doesn't need to pull out but he's sad that you won't get to be a mom. You'd be good at it, even in this fucked up world. "I'm sorry you couldn't, you know, but, next time...I want you in a bed and I ain't gonna pull out." He murmurs so the kid can't hear.
You shiver slightly, happy to hear that there will be a next time if both of you can help it. You hum quietly and shoot him a small smirk. âMaybe we can find a hotel to spend the night in tonight.â You tease softly, not sure what awaits you on this journey but at least youâll be there. By his side this time, instead of trailing along behind him like his little puppy.
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Love in the Time of Cordyceps
pairing: joel miller x f!reader
summary: when the world ends, you promise you'll never love again. joel miller makes that rule hard to stick to
words: 7.1k
warnings: mentions of gore (pretty tame but still), swearing, sickness, angst, fluff, two dummies not realizing they love each other until one of them almost dies đ
a/n: this was supposed to be more angsty but then i remembered life is hard enough already. and i just want soft joel soooo here we are. also i meant to write 2k at most but boy do i love to ramble
read on ao3!
After the world goes to hell, you promise yourself youâll never love again. A person, an animal, a place, nothing. Only a fool would choose to make themselves that vulnerable, needing every fiber of your being one hundred percent devoted to your survival and nothing more.Â
Was a life without love worth living? Every time that question enters your mind, you swat it aside. Itâs like a nagging fly that buzzes around you until your persistence finally drives it away completely. Of course you could live without love. Youâd been doing it just fine these past fifteen years.Â
Living without attachment proves useful in the new world you find yourself in. It makes the countless people you lose along the way easier to move on from. In the early days, your heart still twinges as the people around you drop like flies. Most fall victim to the bites of clickers, some to raidersâ gun, a few by their own hand.Â
The first group you had travel with is filled with Midwesterners who see the terrors of the new world and still somehow have a smile and a joke for you. Their joviality canât save them, though. Clickers swarm you one rainy night two years after the fall of civilization. The sight of Gail, a woman who reminds you of your grandmother, having her stomach ripped out by an especially voracious clicker cures you of your need for any connections to the living.Â
Over the years, you make your way to the East Coast. Smiles, defiant in the face of adversity are replaced by permanent grimaces etched into the faces of everyone you meet. It seems as though every survivor has lost the ability for happiness of any kind. Good, you think, theyâre finally learning. You wonder what took them so long.Â
Tales of peace the Canadian wilderness has to offer reaches your ears. In your heart you know it is most likely a tall tale spread by desperate survivors. But the good thing about a zombie apocalypse is you now have nothing but time on your hands. Working your way north, if all goes well, youâll reach Saint John by May, continue to Port Elgin and then decide if youâd try for Prince Edward Island or turn east to Nova Scotia.Â
Plans are made to be broken, though, and yours, along with your ankle, break clean through one day as you make your way through Boston. It would have been over for you if not for the two survivors that find you nursing your injury in a department store that will most likely be swarming with clickers by nightfall.Â
The woman, after she puts her gun away, introduces herself as Tess. The man doesnât offer his name, preferring to keep the barrel of his shotgun pointed at you. As they argue quietly over what to do with you, you observe their faces. Both are etched hard with years of loss and worry. Even harder than your joyless face. Itâs impressive albeit in a sad kind of way.Â
Tess had somehow persuades the man to help you back to the Boston QZ. Joel. You hear her call him Joel. âFine,â he had grumbles as he places your arm over his shoulder for support, âbut if she scans red, I will not hesitate to put her down.â Oddly enough his threat somehow makes you almost like him. You sense a kindred spirit. Another follower of the âno love, no attachmentâ way of life.Â
You do not, in fact, scan red and are allowed to enter the QZ. An apartment is assigned to you, a crappy little studio with faded lime green paint. The old you would have adored it, called it quirky and planned out how best to decorate it with your meager funds. The new you just appreciates a safe place to sleep.Â
After your ankle heals, Tess invites you to join her smuggling scheme. Thoughts of Canada flee your mind for the time-being and you gladly welcome something to keep yourself occupied.Â
âBut what about the cowboy?â you ask.Â
âJoel? What about him?â
Your eyebrows arch, âHe threatened to shoot me.â
âOnly if you were infected. Just donât get infected.â She says it like youâre discussing the weather.Â
Joel allows you into the group begrudgingly, probably because he thinks they can use you as bait or a distraction if needed. Fine. Let them label you bait. Youâve been called worse before.Â
The first few months working together are tense. Joel reprimands you for the smallest mistakes and warns Tess youâll get them all killed. At first, you bite your tongue, reminding yourself of the part he had in saving you. But one night after he scolds you for the millionth time about not checking your blind spots for clickers, you snap. âFuck off, Joel! I survived the clickers for fifteen years. I think I know what Iâm fucking doing!.â
He holds up his hands in surrender, wandering off with a hurt pout like he wasnât the one who was just being the asshole. You wonder why your victory leaves you feeling hollow.Â
After that, Joel keeps his mouth shut around you. No nagging, no âhelpfulâ tips. Just the bare minimum of whatever he needs to convey. Youâll never admit that it hurts. You donât have to, though. Tess, at the end of her rope, explodes one night as the three of you eat dinner in awkward silence. âCouple of fuckinâ babies Iâm working with,â she seethes. âIf you donât grow up Iâm finding a new crew.â
Itâs decided that you and Joel will do the next supply run to Billâs. Alone. No Tess there to act as buffer between you and him. Joel grunts at that but doesnât argue, always deferring to your leader. The trip to Billâs goes as well as you can ask. There are no arguments between the two of you at least. Youâre sure you even see Joel crack a smile. Of course itâs when you clumsily tripped over a raised tree rootâŚBut hey, progress is progress.
With the supplies in tow and Frankâs compound behind you, you actually think this trip might be a success. A gang of raiders lying in wait to sabotage you dashes your hopes of that. They had seen the two of you lugging your supplies and thought it would be an easy win. At first, they are correct. They outnumber you and Joel in size and wickedness. The four of them arenât content to kill you outright. They tie you up and discuss what to do with you next.Â
Of course their attention quickly falls on you. The man with an ugly gash across his face leers at you. âMaybe we should keep her around awhile. She looks like fun.â Try as you might to act tough, that sends the blood rushing through your ears.Â
You almost donât hear Joel snarl at them. âYou lay one finger on her and itâll be the last thing you ever do.â The venom in his voice snaps you back to reality. While their attention is on him, you discreetly start ripping at your bonds with the little pocket knife you thankfully decided to stow in your back pocket.Â
They beat Joel senseless by the time you get free. You honestly think youâre too late as you stab the goon nearest to you in the thigh, by some miracle hitting his femoral artery. The others turn to you, blindsided as you go wild at the sight of your bloodied and broken companion. Gash-Face comes roaring at you, all brawn no brains. The look of surprise as you lodge the knife in his neck makes you smile with sickening glee.Â
The remaining two corner you, murder in their eyes. Your gun is just beyond them, taunting you to come retrieve it. The only âweaponâ you have is the belt youâre wearing, itâs clasp heavy and silver. You undo it and swing it at the nearest man. He grabs it, cackling victoriously as he uses it to pull you closer. In their grasp, you become the target of their blows. You curl into the fetal position, angry that after all the near death experiences youâve had, this will be the way you go out.Â
A shot rings out, then another. Two thuds on the ground next to you make you open your already swollen eyes. As you look up, you realize your savior is Joel. Back from the dead. His face is covered in blood, like some kind of ghoul. But in that moment, you have never seen someone look more like an angel. The two of you limp back to the QZ where Tess nurses you as she simultaneously curses the deceased thugs.Â
Joel corners you in the bathroom the next day as you study your bruised face. âYou could have run,â he hisses at you, making you jump. You donât know what he wants so you just shrug. He invades your space, making you back against the counter. âWhy didnât you run?â His voice has gone low, anger simmering just beneath the surface.Â
Faces inches from each other, all you can muster is a weak, âWeâre a team. I wasnât going to leave you.â
Several emotions flicker across his face in quick succession. Anger, fear, worry and something you canât quite put your finger on. Pride? Maybe that was you projecting but you hope you were right. Joel studies you for a moment longer, then reiterates, âNext time, you run.â
******
After that, things change. Joel is still a man of few words but the ones he does grace you with are softer and more intentional. Instead of berating you for the knowledge and skills you lack, he takes them time to teach you. He shows you how to identify fake ration cards and to spot the kind of guard you can bribe. Nights are spent with you following behind him like a shadow as he shows you all the secret ways in and out of the QZ. When your hands shake during target practice, he places his calloused ones over yours. It steadies your hands but frays your nerves, threatening to awake a feeling long thought dormant.Â
It goes both ways. Joel lacks attention to detail in certain situations and you show him how to read people and ascertain their flaws that can be exploited. During your runs you point out the flora that can be consumed safely or used as medicine. At Flynnâs, the only bar in the QZ, you teach him how to play pool. An essential to survival? No. But it sure helps you win a huge stash of ration cards from your fellows survivors. It also gives you an excuse to sidle up behind him and mold your body around his, all in the name of helping him get the âproper pool stance.â
Your excuses to fleetingly touch one another became more and more common. They are all perfectly innocent but carry the weight of something elicit, at least to you. Joel is never one to give away his innermost thoughts, happy to wear a permanent poker face. For all you know he couldnât care less about you. Maybe he just knows keeping you alive is good for business and thatâs why he takes a particular interest in making sure youâre safe. Whatever the reason, you hope he never stops.Â
******
During one supply run, a torrential thunderstorm forces you to spend the night at Bill and Frankâs. You know it makes Joel nervous to be indebted to anyone for such hospitality but you canât hide your glee. A night there means a cozy bed and a hot shower, something hard to find in your home where the water runs tepid at best.Â
Afterwards spending way too long in the bathroom, you curl up in your bed, toasty and content, only to find sleep wonât not come. Your hosts are dear to you, even the grumpy Bill, but their snoring through the wall you share makes hopes for a deep sleep impossible.Â
After an hour of tossing and turning, you decide to go make your bed on the couch. As you tiptoe down the stairs you run into Joel, on his way up . âGoing somewhere?â he drawls, exhaustion making his voice deeper than usual. You shrug, âCouldnât sleep. There are two buzzsaws in the room next door.â
Joel chuckles, âIâve had that room before. Canât say it was the best night of sleep Iâve ever had.â You lived for these little snippets into Joelâs life before you came around, always eager to hear more. But the trek to the house through never-ending sleet and over the turbulent river left you more tired than you had felt in years. Right now all you want is to get where you could pass out immediately. âIâm just gonna make camp on the couch,â you say, stifling a yawn.Â
Joel shakes his head. âYou take my room. The couch is good enough for me.â This man. Hadnât anyone told him chivalry is dead. You sigh tiredly and beckon for him to come back up the stairs with you. âItâs a big bed. We can share.â There is silence behind you where there should have been footsteps. Joelâs smile disappears as his forehead creases in thought. âPlease,â you pout, âI canât sleep in my room and I wonât get any rest knowing youâre crammed on that dainty little loveseat.â
It takes far more coaxing than it should but finally Joel gives you a little nod and follows you into his - your - room. You gesture to the bed, âCare which side you get?â Joel thinks, then shrugs. âLeft is good.â You flop onto the right side, eyes immediately drooping shut. Once again, there is no movement from your companion. Without opening your eyes, you chide him, âIf youâre gonna be weird and watch me sleep all night then you can go sleep on the couch.â That got him moving again.Â
The sound of the shower turning on lulls you to a sleep that is disturbed only when you feel the dip of the bed several minutes later. You watch through barely opened eyes as Joel does a strange shimmy under the covers. Itâs clear heâs trying his best not to wake you. The sight makes you laugh softly and his head whips to you.Â
âThought you were asleep,â he murmurs.Â
You hum, âI was. You woke me up.âÂ
Itâs meant to be a joke but Joel grimaces. âSorry.â
The sight is sweet and your heart flips, his frown making him look almost boyish. âItâs ok. Itâs your bed.âÂ
As you burrow into your cocoon of blankets, Joel props himself up, a pillow behind his back. He looks from you to the bedside lamp and back again. âYou mind if I read for a few minutes?âÂ
That surprises you. In all your time together you had rarely seen Joel do something just for the pleasure of it. There was usually no time. But Bill and Frankâs is a sanctuary and even the hyper-vigilant Joel Miller is able to slow down here. You nod enthusiastically, perking up. âWhat are you reading?âÂ
Itâs like you had asked him what his darkest secret was. He reddens, then finally grabs a book from the table. Pride and Prejudice. He stammers, âItâs justâŚI never had a lot of time for reading before and this was a favorite ofâŚit was a favorite of somebody I knew.â
âYou can read out loud to me if you want,â you offer with a grin. Honestly it was half in jest and half a serious hope. It had been decades since anyone had read aloud to you. Joel, always thinking you were making some sort of fun of him, smirks sarcastically. âNot a chance.âÂ
Your glower slowly melts away at the sight of him putting on his reading glasses and settling in. Silently you curse as you feel your hardened heart crack just the tiniest bit. Idiot that you are, you try to talk yourself out of your own feelings. You arenât attached to Joel. How could you be? Heâs just a handsome, rugged man who keeps you safe and reads Jane Austen in his spare time. Maybe some lesser fool would fall for him but not you. No, sir.
The next morning, you find yourself curled into him, chest pressed against his back and arm draped over his side. Like a bomb diffuser, you carefully try to extricate yourself from the position, every movement slow and precise. Joel, still asleep, lazily grabs your hand, keeping your arm around him. He sighs contentedly as you settle back down and you swear under your breath, nestling your head at the crook of his neck. You are so that lesser fool.Â
******
The thunderstorms of summer give way to the pleasant days of autumn. Those good days donât seem to last long enough. You should have appreciated them more while they were there but so is the way of being human.Â
Winter in Boston isnât fun. Ok thatâs an understatement. It makes you long for the soul-sucking, never-ending Midwestern winters you had lived through for most of your life. There is something about being next to the ocean that makes everything feel colder.Â
The nights are especially hard, the wind seeping through the cracks in the walls of your apartment. No matter how many blankets you tuck around yourself, your body never truly feels warm. Runs to Billâs or anywhere outside the QZ become less frequent and more difficult. Only those deemed truly necessary are attempted and even then there is always a long discussion beforehand weighing out the pros and cons.Â
Runs between the months of November and January are too risky and after much debate, it is decided you three would lay low in the relative safety of the QZ. In the meantime, youâd assess your stockpile, make connections over the radio and wait for the spring thaw. With less food smuggled in from the outside, you decide to put your energy into earning ration cards. Even though no one could argue you donât pull your weight in the group, you often feel like the weak link. Making sure Tess and Joel have a hot meal every night is the least you could do.Â
Joel had always told you to stay away from sewer work. It paid double what the other jobs did but at a high risk. Besides not being able to wash the stink off for days, the tunnels under the city were treacherous. Many had gone down there only to be blindsided by a stray clicker or jumped by a loner who made their home away from society up above. Some just got lost in the labyrinth, never to be heard from again. Or at least you had been told. You hoped those were just myths.Â
You and three other desperate souls are sent down to the sewers with the task of clearing the rubble from a recent cave in. A hard dayâs work definitely but you were optimistic that you could get it done in a few hours time and be on your way.
The first few hours go well, the biggest pieces of the concrete being cleared easily enough. Your back aches and callouses quickly form on your palms. But still, all of that you can deal with, mollifying yourself with the thought of the stack of ration cards youâll proudly gift to Joel and Tess.Â
Maybe if you hadnât been daydreaming you would have heard the shouts of your fellow volunteers sooner. Finally coming back to reality, you move just in time to avoid another piece of falling rock. You save yourself from being crushed but lose your footing, coming down hard on your shin.Â
A stream of bright blood instantly trickles from the gash and you swear as you try to keep the tears that spring to your eyes at bay. Wanting to prove yourself, you brush off your groupâs insistence that you go get it checked by the doctor. It doesnât matter if you complete ninety percent of your shift. You still donât get your payment if you leave early. So you suck it up for another hour, slogging through the muck as you finish the job. Itâs fine, you tell yourself, itâs just a scratch. Youâll wash it off when I get home and be good as new.Â
With the job done and ration cards tucked away in your pocket, you hobble back towards your apartment. The thought of a shower, as lukewarm as it will be, is the only thing keeping you upright. That is until you feel someone putting your arm around their shoulder. Joel helps you the few blocks to your house, his icy silence hurting you more than the cut that now throbs with every jostle.Â
Itâs only after you get inside and are deposited on the couch that Joel speaks. He rolls up the leg of your jeans, cursing as he sees the already festering wound. âI told you to stay out of the sewers.âÂ
You suck in a pained breath as he starts wiping away the dirt. âIâm fine. Itâs just a little cut. Besides, it was worth it,â you pull out the stack of ration cards and present them to him proudly. The sight gives him pause. But the look on his face isnât one of gratitude, itâs worried exasperation. His signature grimace returns, âItâs not worth it if you lose your leg.â And people claim youâre dramatic.Â
Pushing him away with a shoo, you rise, limping to the bathroom. âI just need a shower. Then Iâll be right as rain.â As you peel off your now ruined clothes, Joel hovers on the other side of the door. âI can hear you pacing,â you call over the sound of the warming shower.Â
Even through the almost closed door you can hear Joel sigh. âI just think we should take you to the doc. Make sure youâre alright.â The water hitting you makes you audibly moan, the filth on your body washing down the drain and with it, the memory of the hard day. You appreciate the concern but all you want to do know is forget about the day. You call out to a still pacing Joel, âIâm fine. You worry too much!â
******
It turns out Joel worries the right amount. Of course he does. As eager as you are to forget about your day, itâs not long before you canât ignore your leg. The wound is an angry red and the area around it has swollen, leaving it tender and throbbing. Thankfully you have Joel there to dress it because, honestly, you canât stomach the sight of it. These past years have been filled with much blood and gore at your own hands. But thereâs something different when itâs your own blood.Â
In any other circumstance you would have reveled in the feeling of Joel holding your leg so tenderly, his fingers brushing against your skin as he wraps the bandage around you. It would have driven you insane seeing him crouched in between your legs as he is now. But at the moment all you can think about is how you much pain youâre in.Â
You try not to show your discomfort, but your poker face is nonexistent. Joelâs eyes flick up to yours as you slowly exhale, trying to keep calm. Avoidance has always been one of your favorite tactics when dealing with uncomfortable situations so you pipe up, overly perkily, âSee? All better. Now about those ration cards, I was thinking for dinner-âÂ
Joel rolls his eyes, standing with a groan, his knees audibly cracking. âThe only thing youâre gonna do tonight is rest.â
You slowly turn your body to prop your leg up on a pillow as he watches. Pouting has never worked on Joel but you figure it never hurts to try. âI still have to eat,â you mope.Â
âYou will. Iâll open a can of soup or something.â
The disappointment is real and bubbles to the surface quicker than you realized it would. âI just wanted us all to have a nice dinner. You and Tess do so much and I feel likeâŚâ Thinking how you feel is different from saying it out loud and you have to psych yourself up. Joelâs softening gaze helps you continue. âI feel like Iâm useless. I just thought this was one thing I could do to really contribute.â
The silence between you feels heavy as you avoid his stare. Finally, he speaks, confusion contorting his features, âOf course you contribute. We wouldnât have kept you around if you hadnât.â Itâs meant to make you feel better but it doesnât, especially in your current laid up state.Â
âSo are you going to get rid of me if Iâm no longer useful?â you gesture at your leg, feeling your eyes beginning to sting with tears.Â
Joel sits down next to you. Your fear has made you defiant and you meet his gaze, wanting to fight. But Joel speaks in a soft, level voice, as if teaching a child a lesson. âFirst of all, youâre going to get better. You just need to be patient. Second, youâre thinking thereâs only one kind of way to be useful.â
âI canât shoot like you two can. I canât fight. I canât threaten people into getting what I want. I can go on runs and earn ration cards. Thatâs it. Iâm too soft for anything actually important.âÂ
Joel frowns, âYou say that like itâs a bad thing. âBeing softâ in a world like this is an act of defiance. Itâs brave as hell. What you consider important? I donât want that for you.â
Warmth spreads through your chest as you observe him. Heâs trying so hard to find his next words, to make you believe his truth. âMe and Tess, we let the world harden us more than it needed to. It was easier that way. But having you around reminds us thereâs still innocence and good out there.â
The angry tears have turned to ones of gratitude. The sentiment is too much for you, unused to such vulnerability from Joel. You give him a small smile and he returns it, leaning over to wipe a tear off your cheek. âYouâre useful just being you.â
While you still wish you matched Joel and Tessâ levels of badassery, the conversation helps ease your mind. You might not think much of your survival skills but you remind yourself that youâve stayed alive in a world that wants you dead. Fifteen years youâve been fighting and surviving and thatâs nothing to look down on.Â
âAnd for what itâs worth, â he adds, âyou scared the hell out of me the first time we met.â
You grin at him, shocked, âReally?â
He nods, smirking cheekily, âReally. Still do sometimes.â
******
Joel heats up a can of tomato soup for you to share. You try not to think of how old it must be as he prepares it. But actually, itâs not bad, the taste reminding you of your childhood.Â
It also helps that youâre sharing it with someone you care about. A part of you hates that how easily youâve let him into your heart. The one thing you swore off all those years ago is now all you can think about as you watch him sitting across from you, ladling out the steaming liquid.Â
He catches you staring and breaks the silence, âWere you even going to tell me you got hurt today if I hadnât run into you.â The fuzziness of your feelings for him makes your brain a little mushy and instead of having a grownup conversation, you reply with a childish, âNo, I thought Iâd let it be a soup-rise.âÂ
Joel rolls his eyes in mock annoyance. You chuckle and continue eating your rapidly cooling dinner. You sober up a bit and add, âThe extra ration cards will be good, though. Right?âÂ
He nods, âYeah. I think itâs soup-er.â His eyes flick up to yours as they crinkle, the only sign that he finds himself amusing.Â
After dinner, Joel excuses himself to go work his overnight shift. When he leaves and youâre left along, the throbbing in your leg returns with a vengeance along with a mild fever. Your usually chilly apartment now feels stuffy and you have to remove all of your layers except your t-shirt to be even somewhat comfortable.Â
Worry creeps in as you sit there, alone and increasingly unwell. You long for the company of Joel or Tess, anyone to reassure you that youâre fine. But youâre alone and the dark thoughts creep in, whispering in your ear that whatever is brewing is not good. Unsure of what else to do, you slip in to bed, hoping that whatever this is will be better by morning.Â
******
You donât wake for two days. Or at least, you have no real memory of the past 48 hours. Later, when the worst is over, Joel will tell you the details of that lapse in your memory. Heâll recount how you faded in and out of consciousness, sometimes submitting to your fever for so long that he wasnât sure you were coming back. His voice will waver as he remembers how bad it got and how fragile you lookedâŚ
But for now, he stays by your side, foregoing his own health to make sure you stay alive. The first thing you remember is waking up to the sounds of Joel and Tess arguing in hushed tones.Â
âWe need to get her to a doctor. Now.â Joelâs voice sounds strained, like heâs trying desperately not to lose it.Â
Tess still maintains her signature composure. âWe canât, Joel. Itâs too late for that.â
Joel must make some kind of face because Tess sighs and re-words. âItâs too late to take her in because if we bring her to the hospital all theyâll focus on is her fever. Theyâve put people down for way less. You know that.â
In your addled state, you wonder who theyâre talking about. Your throat hurts to much to speak up though and ask.Â
âThe doc will give us the meds. Weâve bribed him before.âÂ
Tess shakes her head, âAntibiotics are on lockdown. Shipments have been delayed because of the weather. No one gets any without FEDRA knowing. Breaking in guarantees we get caught. Weâre no good to her dead. â
Joel scoffs, âSo what do you suggest we do?â
âShe rides it out.â
âSheâs been âriding it outâ for two days. Look at her,â Joelâs voice gets closer as he peers down at you, âsheâs fighting but sheâs losing.â
Oh. Fever may have taken hold of you, making your brain fuzzy and concentration near impossible, but you understand now that you are the subject of their argument. For Joel to sound so forlorn you must look bad.Â
If youâre dead soon, you want to let them know to leave it and just let you slip away. Your well-being means nothing if it puts them in unnecessary danger. Rule be damned, theyâre your family now and you care about them. If youâre being honest, youâve cared about them since you met them. It breaks your heart thinking you wonât be able to tell them that now. It nearly kills you right then and there to know you wonât get the chance to tell Joel you love himâŚ
Opening your mouth to articulate all of that takes great effort and when you do try and speak, all that comes out is a strangled groan. The two rush over, Tess sitting down beside you. She takes your hand, an uncharacteristic show of tenderness. Yep, youâre dying.Â
âYouâre ok, kid,â she whispers, âyou just have to hang in there.â It would be easy to ignore reality and blindly trust her. But youâve always been stubborn and so you shake your head and continue trying to speak. Again, nothing comes out but garbled nonsense as you writhe around trying to make your limbs do what your brain wants.Â
You must look a sight because Joel lets his anger overflow. âMaybe you can sit here and watch her die, but I canât.âHeavy footsteps and Tess yelling are all that you can focus on as you fade back into oblivion.Â
******
Living is hard and unconsciousness is addicting. Peaceful and cozy are feelings you can scarcely remember having. It would be easy to stay in that enveloping darkness but the feeling of the back of someoneâs hand on your clammy forehead pulls you back to the realm of the living. You grumble weakly as youâre made to come to.Â
Everything is painful. Stabbing jolts of electricity radiate up your leg from the cut. Your chest is tight, making breathing troublesome and your eyes can barely stand the dim, watery sun coming through the shades of the window. Someone places a damp cloth on your forehead to keep the fever at bay. Still out of it, you try and swat it away.Â
A gentle hand grabs yours, shushing you. âItâs alright. Itâs only me.âÂ
Joel. Maybe you have died and this is heaven. The man you love by your side, nursing you so tenderly. Itâs more than you could have ever hoped for. This might be the afterlife believers talk about if only you werenât in so much pain. The neurons in your brain begin firing more rapidly as your fever dies down. They remind you that you and Joel arenât lovers. Your cowardice, disguised as intelligence, has kept you from telling him how you feel.Â
âWhatâs happening?â Your voice comes out croaky and soft but at least itâs intelligible. The bed dips as Joel moves closer to you. As you peer up through barely opened eyelids you can see him leaning over you. His tired eyes look down at you as he caresses your hair.Â
âYou got real sick, honey. That cut you got festered and turned into a fever. We thought we were gonna lose you.â The slight falter in his voice makes your already tight chest contract.Â
âHow long was I out?â
âThree days. We got you some meds, though. Youâre gonna be ok.â He says it firmly, which does some good in easing your worry.Â
Trying to open your eyes a bit more you continue your questioning, âWhere did you get the antibiotics from?â
Joel hesitates, âBill and Frank had some.â
You try and sit up, angry that he made that trip and put himself in danger. Even now, you can see the snow whipping around outside your window. Knowing he made the trek there and back through that storm makes you curse. Joel tuts and puts a gentle hand to your chest, keeping you down and resting.Â
âItâs done. No use getting angry about it now.â
You glare up at him even though youâre really just upset with yourself. âWhy would you do something so stupid?â
His smiles peacefully down at you, exhausted but eyes bright. âWeâre a team, remember?â
Itâs too much for you to handle. You cover your face just in time to hide the angry, relieved and grateful tears that spring to your eyes. Silent sobs wrack your frame, making you seize with pain.Â
Joel pulls you into him, shushing you as he resumes stroking your hair. You hide your face in his side, trying to regain your composure. Crying shouldnât be something you feel the need to earn. But youâre all sorts of broken, so you take this rare opportunity to not judge yourself and weep with abandon. You almost died, for Christâs sake. Surely that warrants some show of emotion.
After a few minutes, the tears stop and your breathing calms. Peeking up, you see Joel has his eyes closed. His face is the most serene youâve seen it in ages, most of the worry lines softened. Thereâs still a few that refuse to relax, though. The crease in between his eyebrows remains stubbornly indented. You gaze up at him as he continues to run soothing patterns along your back.Â
Feeling the weight of your stare, he opens his eyes. Coward that you are, you glance away. âThank you,âis all you can mumble out as he gazes at you. After a moment, you add a shy, âI would do the same for you. You know that, right?â
Joel pulls you gently into him, almost to remind himself youâre still here with him and that the danger has passed. He nuzzles into your hair, murmuring an affectionateâI know, honey. I know.â
******
After a few more hours and another dose of antibiotics, you begin to feel more like yourself. Joel still wonât let you get out of bed yet, except for a trip to the bathroom for a quick shower. Even though youâve been dead to the world for much of your ordeal, youâre quickly getting bored with bed rest. But youâve learned long ago that resistance is futile with Joel. So you shower like a good patient, scowling as the water hits your scabbing cut.Â
Once you finish, Joel hops in and washes the grime and worry of the past three days off. As you settle back in bed, you can hear him singing softly to himself. Through the patter of the water you can hear his soft rendition of Fleetwood Macâs Songbird. Itâs one of your favorites, too, and you hum along as you settle back into your pillow.Â
After a few minutes, sleep still wonât come. You toss and turn as Joel finishes getting ready for bed. He comes in to find you still awake. âI thought I told you to get some sleep.â He says it like a loving mother gently scolding their rebellious child.Â
You flail as you try and get comfortable. You shoot back a moody, âBut Iâm just not tired.â Joel chuckles as he sits down into the arm chair next to your bed. He smooths back his wet hair and gives you a faux stern look. âYour bodyâs been through a lot. You need rest.â
âWhat are you doing?â you ask.Â
Joel looks confused, wondering what he did wrong. âSorry I just thought Iâd sleep here tonight in case you need anything. I can leave, though.âÂ
âNo!â you yell out, completely abandoning any hope of looking cool. You give him an apologetic smile, âI want you to stay but youâre not sleeping in that chair one more night.â
Joel glances to the spot on the bed beside you, then looks to you for confirmation. He sighs, a smile playing at his lips. âIf I stay will you promise to go to sleep?â
You nod very seriously. âOf course.â
Joel grins, knowing you too well to believe you. âLiar,â he chuckles but still gets up and makes his way to the other side of the bed. You pull back the blankets so can get in, then cover him up. Settling on your side, you watch as he suddenly looks lost, unsure of what to do now. Itâs cute, this powerful man rendered helpless by something as innocuous as sharing a bed.Â
You canât help but laugh at him and he looks down at you, eyes wide. Taking pity on him, you make a suggestion. âIf youâre not tired you could read to me.â Joel opens his mouth to refuse but you blurt out a quick, âI did almost die, you know.â He glares at you but his lip quirks up. He grabs the book from the other room then flops back down in bed, opening to a spot in the middle.Â
Frowning, you reach out to touch Joelâs arm. âDo you mind starting from the beginning?â He rolls his eyes but flips back to the first page. You grin triumphantly as you settle into his side. Joel places his arm around your shoulder as he begins to read. âIt is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wifeâŚâÂ
His southern drawl mixed with the Romantic Era style of writing makes for an amusing but pleasant combination. After a few chapters, your eyes get heavy and Joel feels you nodding off against him. Jane has just been invited to Netherfield Park but even that canât keep you awake. Joel puts the bookmark in to save your spot and places the novel on your bedside table.Â
You grumble in weak protest as he tucks you in and turns off the light. âWe can keep reading tomorrow. But right now youâre going to sleep.â Joel lies down beside you and with the pale light of the moon through your curtains you can see him studying you. He caresses your face and you close your eyes, delighting in the sensation.Â
âDonât ever scare me like that again,â he whispers.Â
You force your eyes open, needing him to see the truth of it when you pledge a soft,âI wonât. I mean it.â
Joel nods gratefully and you reach out for him. He slides into your arms and you rest your chin on the top of his head. Heâs watched over you for long enough. Itâs your turn to take care of him and reassure him that, in this moment, you both are safe.Â
For most, an outright admission of affection is needed to understand how you feel about the other person. But you and Joel are cut from the same cloth, stubborn and slow to reveal your feelings. In this world, for people like you, âI love yousâ are rare and replaced with actions and deeds.Â
You realize that even though you've never told Joel that you love him, youâve shown it. Joel has been showing you all this time too and you were just too dull to realize it. While you know youâll long to say the words to him soon, for now itâs enough to have him in your arms.Â
Joelâs breathing deepens and you feel him completely give himself over to sleep. Looking at his face bathed in the moonlight he looks like a new man. His edges soften and his vulnerability brims to the surface. It tugs at your heart and you understand how rare of a sight this is for Joel to allow anyone to see.Â
Smiling sleepily, you close your eyes and nestle into him. This feeling coursing through you is something foreign but familiar, an old friend you thought you had said your final goodbye to long ago. The love you have for Joel will leave you vulnerable. But itâs a price youâre willing to pay a thousand times over.Â
******
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Saying Thanks
Joel Miller x afab!fem!reader
Joel is your grumpy patrol partner who doesnât even talk to you in the streets of Jackson. But one night a man grabs your arm at the Tipsy Bison, and Joelâs decided he doesnât like it.
tw: smut, fem reader, afab reader, unspecified age gap, reader is smaller than Joel (shorter, can be picked up by him), oral (m! receiving), p in v sex, crying, fighting, blood, drinking, Joel may be out of character but I donât care, not proofread.
Word count: 8.1k
minors, fuck off
masterlist
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Joel was seething. Youâd never seen him like this, rage burning in his gaze and his hands balled into fists at his sides as he was pushed toward the door. Of course youâd seen him in fights before, dealing with raiders and infected on patrol was a bloody business at best, but the second the new guy, Jake? Jack, at the Tipsy Bison put a hand on youâjust touching your armâJoel exploded.
You didnât even have time to blink before the man grabbing your arm was on the ground, ugly bruises blossoming on his face. You didnât even launch into action to get Joel off of him, shock leaving you frozen. You only remained plastered against the bar, gaping at Joelâs savage expression and the way his fists bludgeoned Jack's face. The drink in your hand spilled over the sides a bit, a sticky combination of fruit juice and alcohol coating your skin and absorbing in the sleeve of your sweater.
You were already tipsy, your face hot and your eyes a bit glassy. You were more loose with your expressions, the careful filter you kept starting to deteriorate. By the time a bar fight broke out, you were already more than a few drinks in, your heart pounding in your chest along with the soft music and a thin layer of sweat starting to prickle at the back of your neck.
Joel had stayed quiet that night, sticking to the secluded booth in the back of the bar that he usually haunted. There was no acknowledgement of each other, his chocolate-colored eyes had landed on you for a moment when you walked in, shadowed over by his dark brow in its permanent scowl. As always, he didnât speak to you despite the fact that you spent most mornings together patrolling the outskirts of Jackson.
He wasnât your biggest fan, even going so far as to complain to his brother when the two of you had been assigned together. Tommy was giving you a shot on the patrol, you were newer to Jackson and needed a job. You could handle a gun and didnât seem completely clueless, so he figured he would stick you with Joel to see if you made it out on the other side.
But, nevertheless, Joel was now being pulled off Jack by a few other patrons. They hauled him up by the collar of his canvas jacket, his knuckles bloodied and a snarl on his face as Jack scrambled away. You still stood wide-eyed and dopey, your voice caught in your throat as you struggled for something to say.
Joel wouldnât look at you, eyes drilling into Jack as he was shoved toward the door. He kept hissing threats through his teeth, snippets of âIâll break your fucking arm if you ever touch her again,â audible above the music as he grappled with the men trying to contain him.
Your gaze traced the outline of his aquiline nose, the way his lips were pursed beneath his dark mustache. It was a struggle to push him out the door. You flinched when it slammed shut behind him, spilling more of your drink.
âYou better get your damn dog on a leash.â It was one of the older women in the neighborhood, her brows drawn and a disgusted expression on her face as she regarded you. You finally snapped out of your shocked stupor, looking at Jackâs bloodied and swollen face as he was picked up and put into a booth.
What was Joel even thinking?
You downed your drink in a few gulps, setting the empty glass on the bar before pushing yourself away from the bar top. Wind swept inside the Tipsy Bison as you forced the door open, providing a moment of relief from the humid heat of the bar. It was starting to get cold out, dried leaves swirling in the breeze as autumn settled into the bones of Jackson.
You shivered, wrapping your arms around yourself as you peered out into the darkness. The leaves crunched under your shoes as you took a few tentative steps, the sweater you wore offering you little protection from the wind.
Joel leaned against the wall of a nearby business, his head tilted back and his throat bared to the dim light of the moon. He was sucking in deep breaths through his mouth, his bloody knuckles limp at his sides. His jacket was off-kilter from where heâd been thrown out the door, his hair mussed.
âJoel?â You approached him like you would a wild animal, on high alert and prepared for any sudden movement.
He looked at you with a bored expression, the moonlight catching on the silver hair that splintered at his temples and in his patchy beard. You hesitated, stopping your approach for a moment before pressing on until you were a few feet in front of him. His dark curls stuck up in every direction, they were a little long now that winter was approaching.
âWhat the hell was that?â you asked, crossing your arms over your chest as your weight settled so one hip popped out to the side. You sounded more aggressive than you intended to, the words coming out like an accusation rather than a question.
It was times like this that made the age and size difference between you and Joel apparent. He stood up straight, towering over you a bit as he cleared his throat. Sometimes he made you feel like you were still just a dumb teenager instead of a woman in her mid twenties. âI donât know what youâre talking about,â he muttered, his voice a deep grumble with a slight southern twang to it.
A scoff leaves your mouth before you can even stop it, the alcohol reducing your filter to near non-existence. âWhat do you mean, Joel? I watched you beat the shit out of that guy for what? Touching my arm?â You were a little too loud, your voice ricocheting off the buildings around you. Under different circumstances, you would have cringed and apologized immediately, but something forced you to soldier on.
Thankfully no one else was outside that nightâit was too cold and still too early for the Tipsy Bison to have a last call. It felt like a standoff. His dark eyes were trained on your face, his mouth drawn into a scowl. You usually backed down to him, acquiescing to his stubborn nature.
âAnd so what if it was?â Joel grumbled, his attitude matching your own. The way he crossed his arms made his biceps bulge under the fabric of his jacketâyour breath hitched for a moment before you glanced away.
You shook your head, disbelief coloring your expression as his words settled in. âYou donât even like me!â You canât help but gesture wildly, your hands moving like they had minds of their own.
He ignored you regularly. There was an unspoken rule of only acknowledging one another on patrols together. The woods outside of Jackson were the only place that Joel would actually talk to you, otherwise you acted like perfect strangers in town.
His jaw clenched as he pushed off the wall, taking a few steps closer to you. âWho said I didnât like you?â he asked, his voice lower as his head dipped toward yours.
He couldnât be serious.
Your eyebrows shot up, disbelief making you smile incredulously. âWhat, so ignoring me in public and complaining about me to Tommy is how you treat your friends?â You were moments away from leaving and letting Joel find a new patrol partner.
You spent too much time defending Joel from his reputation as the town pariah, arguing that he wasnât the animal everyone thought he was. He had a hard time blending in, bigger than most everyone except for his brother and unapproachable to a fault. It seemed that Tommy and Ellie were the only people he willingly spoke to, otherwise keeping largely to himself.
Sometimes you wondered if he heard the rumors going around about himâspeculation that he used to be a hunter, a smuggler, a heartless killer. You never had it in you to ask him about it.
Not that he would tell you, anyways.
Joelâs scowl deepened, his mouth opening and closing like a fish. His silence did nothing but rile you up, it felt like an admission to the fact that you were right. You huffed, the autumnal breeze making dried leaves stick to your jeans and your breath clouding in the air.
âWell, Joel, you should really figure out how to act like an adult,â you snapped, shaking your head as you started to turn away from him. âYouâre way too old to be beating up boys at a bar for touching someone you donât even give a damn about.â
The Tipsy Bison called to you, warm light spilling out the windows and the people moving inside. Your friends were still in there, giggling with one another at the bar. You could see others nursing Jack in a booth, pressing ice wrapped in towels against his face as his blood turned them pink.
âI didnât like how he was grabbing ya,â Joel finally said after youâd taken a few steps away. The admission made you stop in your tracks, looking back over your shoulder at the man. He looked sheepish as he admitted it, his gaze on the floor like a toddler getting scolded. He cleared his throat, taking a deep breath before redirecting his eyes to the sky. âYou didnât⌠you didnât hear how he was talking about you⌠didnât want you with a guy like that.â
Your eyebrows shot up, your lips parting slightly. Your head tilted up to look at him properly, eyes narrowed slightly as you evaluated him. He seemed shockingly sincere, the awkward expression on his face sealing the deal. âCareful Joel, Iâm almost starting to think you care about me.â
There was something in the way his eyes shifted to meet yours that almost made your heart stop.
âNever said I didnât care,â he mumbled, one of his baseball mitt hands coming to rub the back of his neck. The blood on his knuckles was drying, turning to a rust color under the moonlight. You couldnât help but purse your lips, tilting your head to one side. It was hard to understand, the alcohol making you feel like you were buzzing as you mulled over Joelâs words.
He cleared his throat again, shuffling a little closer to you in the process. âWhen I talked to Tommy, I wasnât complaininâ about you,â Joel said. His cheeks were flushed, making you wonder if he was cold or just from the alcohol. He was notorious for sucking down bourbon like it was water, especially on nights when he had nothing to do the next day.
âYou werenât?â you asked, probing the older man a bit. You had only walked by when Joel was talking to his brother, catching your name in their hushed whispers and Joelâs strained expression. Youâd assumed it was because he was stuck with you, a newer recruit, a woman.
Joel sighed, shaking his head. It felt like you were pulling every word from his throat. âTommy⌠he uh⌠he put us together because he thought it would be good for me,â he said, hesitating between parts of his sentence. âThought youâd be good for me.â
âGood for you?â The alcohol made your voice soft around the edges, the question tumbling out of you before you had the sense to stop it. Joel stepped closer, his Adamâs apple bobbing as he swallowed thickly. He was close enough that you could see the scar on his ear, the scars littering his bloodied hands and the ones across his nose. Sure, youâd seen them on patrol as you walked shoulder to shoulder, but for some reason you find yourself trying to memorize every detail about him in the moonlight.
âYeah, sweetheart, good for me,â Joel mumbled, looking down at his boots for a moment before making eye contact with you again. Sweetheart. The nickname rattled around in your mind, echoing in time with your heartbeat. You wouldâve punched anyone else for calling you sweetheart, but it sounded good coming from Joel.
Your face heated up, an odd smile quirking up the corners of your mouth as you struggled to find words to say. âYouâre a liar, Joel,â you manage to spit out.
He let out a chuckle, the kind that hardly made any noise and just let out a sharp breath of air. You earned one every now and then, it always made you beam when you could get him to chuckle on patrol. âYeah? I couldâve switched a long time ago,â Joel murmured, shrugging his broad shoulders. âTommy offered to let me switch.â
You crossed your arms over your chest, a sliver of your combative nature rising up your throat. You wanted to argue with the older man, inform him that he was wrong.
Joel must have picked up at the way your jaw twitched, your expression twisting. âItâs nice to listen to ya blabber in the mornings,â he said, his tone lighter than it had been. It was almost easy to forget what happened in the Tipsy Bison, the way you watched him beat Jackâs face into a pulp.
You huffed, shaking your head. There was a small smile on your face as the heat continued to rise on your cheeks. âThen why do you act like Iâm a stranger when I see you around?â you asked Joel. You scraped your teeth over your lower lip, scuffing the toe of your shoe in the dirt.
Joelâs face fell a bit, his eyes softening as he became serious once more. âYou donât want to be around me anyways, people would judge ya.â It was like he didnât want to admit it, his voice low and mumbling.
You hummed your disagreement, deciding to be bold and step even closer to the huge man in front of you. He towered a head over most people in Jackson, strong and wide and sturdy. You looked over his tanned, weathered skin, his dark curls that were starting to show age through scattered silver strands. âYou donât seem too bad to me,â you said, nearly a whisper.
You saw how Ellie looked at him like he was her favorite person in the world. If that girl could trust him, then so could you.
Joelâs warmth radiated onto you in the cool evening, the smell of bourbon on his breath and blood on his hands. He shook his head, maintaining the closeness youâd established. âSweetheart, you know most of the shit they say about me around this town is true.â
Youâd figured as much. Youâd watched Joel kill raiders without a blink of an eye and jump into action whenever infected approached the high, protective walls around Jackson. The first time youâd witnessed it, his precision took your breath away. Now it was something that you had come to depend on.
âI assumed as much,â you said with a shrug, folding your arms over your chest and tucking your hands under your armpits to keep them warm. âNever mattered to me,â you said, biting the inside of your cheek for a moment.
You considered going back to the bar to avoid the chill, but you didnât feel like having to answer questions about you and Joel all night. Everyone would want to know what he said to you out here, would have their own ideas about why he did it. There were a few breaths of silence. âBut, I should probably go home.â
âNot gonna go back inside?â Joel asked, nodding his chin toward the Tipsy Bison. His gaze was still focused on you. You thought about it for a moment before shaking your head, glancing back at the bar. It had lost its appeal.
âJust home, Joel. Have a good night⌠thanks for protecting my honor and stuff,â you said with a small smile. There was a lightness in the way you spoke, your eyes sparkling in the darkness.
You started to walk toward your house, living in the opposite direction from Joel. âMake sure you clean up those hands of yours, donât want to have to get another patrol partner any time soon,â you said without looking back, dead leaves crunching under your feet with each step.
You heard his heavy footfalls behind you until Joel fell into step at your side. âMind helping me out? Not great at first aid,â he said, holding his knuckles out in front of him. They were blown apart.
âJesus, Joel,â you muttered, grabbing one of his wrists to inspect his hand as you walked. His wrist was warm and thick in your hand, he didnât pull away. The wounds overlapped a number of scars beneath them, a snippet of Joelâs past violence. âWere you trying to kill him or just teach him a lesson?â
âI donât pull my punches,â Joel said with a noncommittal shrug, making you roll your eyes. Of course he didnât. Joel definitely taught him a lesson. You dropped his wrist, not giving him a response as you followed the path to your home.
Your house was one of the smaller ones, the yellow paint starting to peel off the siding and the wall around Jackson casting a shadow over it in the moonlight. Joel was grumbling about your proximity to the wall as you opened your front door and flicked on the lights.
âTake off your boots before you track mud in, Iâll meet you in the kitchen,â you tell Joel, toeing your shoes off before you head to one of the bathrooms. You can still hear him complaining as his heavy boots hit the floor, his lumbering footsteps going to the kitchen. The layout for all of the homes in Jackson was relatively the same, the sub-development it had been converted from seemed fairly cookie-cutter.
Joel sat patiently at the counter as you brought in the first aid kit, setting it down on the stone countertop and flicking it open. He seemed calm and unconcerned, more like a seasoned veteran to first aid than a novice. âI find it hard to believe that youâre bad at this,â you murmured, opening an alcohol wipe to start cleaning his knuckles.
Joel placed his big, catcherâs mitt hands flat on the counter for you to work. His jaw tensed a few times as you wiped over the largest knuckle on each of his hands. âIâm here for your gentle touch, sweetheart,â he muttered, sarcasm biting his tone and making you laugh.
âIâm not a nurse for a reason,â you said, smearing ointment onto the wounds with your fingertips. You tried to be careful, not applying too much pressure to the irritated skin.
Joel chuckled, watching your movements as you pulled out a roll of gauze and loosely wrapped his wounds to cover them. He flexed his hands as soon as you were finished, the gauze stretching tight when he made fists. âGood as new,â you said, leaning against the countertop. You both looked down at his bandaged wounds, lingering in the closeness before you stepped away.
âNow, you should hold off on bar fights for a while.â Mirth glittered in your eyes as you grabbed a wine bottle from one of the shelves in your kitchen. You grabbed two glasses without asking, methodically going through the motions of opening the bottle and pouring.
It felt like you and Joel were sprinting head-first at a line the two of you had never crossed before. There was a shift from coworkers to something else, and it started the second Joel pounced on Jack. You found yourself studying his face as you handed him a wine glass, categorizing his features as you took a sip. He was handsome, but he always had beenâyou just didnât let yourself recognize it.
âNo promises,â Joel grumbled, taking a long drink. You watched him swallow, your eyes partially lidded before you remembered yourself. You felt your cheeks and ears heat up as you took another drink, unclenching your fist at your side and focusing on the stretch of the bones and ligaments.
âYou really didnât need to beat Jack up, I can handle myself,â you murmured, your lashes fluttering as you redirected your gaze to Joel.
He just snorted softly, shaking his head. His expression twisted into amusement, the papery wrinkles of his crowâs feet becoming pronounced. Your brows furrowed, your head tilting as you prepared to argue the fact that you could, in fact, defend yourself. âHis name is Jake.â
Embarrassment made blood rush to your face so quickly you almost felt light headed. A sheepish smile settled on your features, a giggle working its way through your throat. âHe even let me call him Jack like⌠five times the other day,â you said into your wine glass, a guilty look on your face.
âPoor boyâs got it bad then,â Joel said, smirking at you. His dark eyes appeared even darker in the lighting of your kitchen.
âDonât worry, I think you scared him enough,â you said, rolling your eyes playfully. You picked your glass up off the counter, walking out of the kitchen to your cozy living room.
Joel came to sit on the couch as you stoked a fire to life, burning some of the dried kindling you kept in a bucket near the fireplace to coax the logs to life. You could feel his eyes on your back as you crouched, the flames breathing warmth over you as they crackled. The combination of his gaze, the fire, and the wine you kept sucking down in mouthfuls made a sweat prickle at the back of your neck as you stood up straight.
He made himself comfortable, lounging on the couch with an arm draped on the back of it. Heâd brought the bottle of wine, it sat on the coffee table next to his empty glass. One of your eyebrows arched as you sat next to him, leaving enough space between the two of you that you could twist and bring your knees and feet up onto the sofa.
âYou really made yourself at home.â
Joel cracked an easy smile, the fire illuminating the deep shadows of scowl lines on his forehead. You felt the urge to smooth them out with your fingertips. âIâve got a habit of doing that,â he said, his dark gaze sliding to the fireplace. One of the logs popped, sending sparks through the hearth.
There was a lapse of silence where you reached over and filled up his wine glass again. You felt surprisingly comfortable next to him, relaxing your side against the cushioned back of the couch as you faced Joel. âThe ladies at the Tipsy Bison called you my guard dog.â
That made him outright snicker. âYeah? Iâm your guard dog, huh?â he asked, clearly teasing. The way his flannel clung to his shoulders was heavenly, wrapped around every well-defined muscle like a second skin. The wine was staining his mouth purple, you were enraptured as his tongue darted out to catch any remaining drops on his lips.
You cleared your throat, blinking as you nodded. âSaid I should get you on a leash,â you mumbled, the heat on your cheeks spreading to your neck and ears. You gulped the wine to break some of the tension, your nose scrunching as you swallowed.
There was a shift, it wouldâve gone unnoticed if you werenât paying attention.
Joel stretched a bit, tilting his head back as he finished the rest of the wine in one gulp before setting the glass on the coffee table. When he sat back, heâd moved closer to you. Your knee was nearly touching his thigh, that inch of empty space feeling electric.
âDo you want me on a leash?â he asked, his voice deep. There was something different to his tone, the harsh edges of his voice rounded out more than usual. The question made your breath stutter in your chest. The sincerity in his expression caught you off guard. You opened your mouth to speak, only silence coming out. âIf there was anyone who could convince me, it would probably be you, sweetheart.â
You choked on your wine, awkward and clumsy as you sat up straight to prevent it from coming out of your nose. Part of you felt like Joel had turned you inside out as you spluttered, confusion and self-consciousness running rampant.. Finally you got a hold of yourself, sucking in wet breaths with tears in your eyes.
âYou okay?â His voice was sweet and soft when he asked, as though he hadnât caused it. You nodded, waiving off his concern as his paw of a hand grabbed your shoulder. His touch was napalm, igniting your skin through your thin sweater.
âJust surprised me,â you choked out, wiping away the tears with the heel of your hand as you sniffled. Joelâs hand stayed where it was, his thumb rubbing along your collarbone over the black fabric. He did nothing but hum his acknowledgement, patiently waiting for you to catch your breath.
Another cough rattled through you before you could breathe again. Joelâs eyebrows were raised as he watched you, mirth sparkling in his eyes. âYou are so full of shit, Joel Miller,â you finally said, pushing his shoulder lightly.
He still was touching you, leaning forward into your space as he did so. Your breaths were shallow, apprehensive and giddy in all the right ways.
âYou think Iâm full of shit?â he asked, smirking.
âI know you are.â You couldnât help but flirt, batting your eyelashes and smirking at Joel. You felt electric, lightning just crackling under your skin with the potential thrill of him reciprocating. Sure, you were risking a decent work relationship, but you could get a new patrol partner.
He hummed thoughtfully, his hand creeping toward the back of your neck. The stretch of his fingers to the meat of his palm spanned nearly three-quarters of the circumference of your throat, something that shouldâve chilled you to the bone. Excitement sparked in your belly as you swallowed against the firm press of his thumb on your windpipe.
âYou donât seem like an âon the leashâ kind of guy,â you murmured, the feeling of the gauze youâd wrapped around his knuckles rubbing against your soft skin making you shiver slightly.
âNo, guess I donât,â Joel agreed, his dark brown gaze shifting from your eyes to your mouth and back. It was so quick, but the thrill that followed made you feel like you were glowing. You slicked your tongue over your lower lip, making it shine in the firelight.
The way he spoke made you press your thighs together, the stiff seam of your jeans pressing against you in the perfect way if you shifted how you were sitting. Joel moved as well, his thighs spreading just a bit, a palm quickly smoothing over his lap in an action he probably didnât think he would notice.
âSweetheart, we should just get this out of the way.â
Your brow furrowed in confusion before Joel was pulling you toward him, his lips slotting over yours. A soft, startled noise was muffled against Joelâs mouth, shock dissipating quickly as your eyes slid shut. His mustache tickled your upper lip as you accidentally bumped your nose against his.
When he pulled back, there was a hint of a smile on his face. Your face felt like it was on fire, a goofy grin gracing your features as your gaze flickered over him.
Joelâs other hand crept onto your jean-clad thigh, a calloused thumb stroking along the frayed hole at your knee. âSo, was that weird for you?â you asked like an insecure teenager, your teeth digging into your lower lip as you waited for his answer.
Your heart was pounding, the irrational side of your brain wondering if he was able to hear it. He surely felt it against his palm, his heavy hand resting near your pulse as he kept you close on the couch. He smiled at your question, shaking his head no as he pulled you back in for a second kiss. It was quicker, a messy stamp of his mouth over yours.
âDidnât think youâd be into an old man like me,â he said with a chuckle. If you didnât know better it almost seemed like Joel felt bashful. The apples of his cheeks were dusted pink, whether it was from the kiss or the wine you didnât know.
Your eyebrow arched, a grin still on your face. âYouâre not old,â you said, rolling your eyes playfully. Your hands were pressed into your lap, part of you not knowing what to do with them. You looked up at Joel through your eyelashes before your gaze dragged down his torso and to his jeans. The flannel he wore was thin, the fabric well-worn and not tucked into his blue jeans.
âI should, um, thank you,â you murmured, shifting to put your empty wine glass on the coffee table.
Joel chuckled, still watching you like a hawk that set sights on its prey. âLast I checked, you were just lecturing me about fighting your own battles,â he teased, curiosity shining deep in his chocolate eyes as you got off your couch.
The wine must have gotten to your head, because you wouldâve thought you were losing your mind. You moved to stand between Joelâs legs, slowly sinking to your knees on the squishy gray carpet that covered your living room. âI donât have to thank you if you donât want me to, Joel,â you murmured, your hands hovering over his thick thighs for a moment before resting on them.
He looked dumbfounded and giddy, his hands already resting on the black, leather belt he wore around his waist. âNo, sweetheart, youâve got aâŚuh⌠promising idea,â Joel said with a smile, shifting his legs so they bracketed you and his knees pressed against the coffee table.
You laughed softly, hands roaming up his muscular thighs to where his belt rested just under the soft layer of fat covering his stomach. âYou sure? I can always get back up,â you said teasingly, working your fingers under the tongue of his belt and pulling the buckle open. It clinked as it fell off to the sides, you didnât bother pulling it from the belt loops.
Joel shook his head, leaning back farther into the couch and shifting his hips toward you. âMâsure,â he answered, preoccupied on the way your fingers popped open the button of his jeans and worked the zipper down.
He was already hard, the outline of his cock pressing against the denim and toward his thigh. You reached into his black boxers, pulling it out of its confinement with a satisfied sigh.
He was big, bigger than any other guy youâd been with. You held the base of his cock, fingers against the curly, dark hair that covered his pubic bone and ran up toward his belly button. It was hot to the touch, the head already leaking precum that followed the path of the prominent veins down his shaft. It was more pink than the rest of him, the head a shade darker than the rest.
You licked your lips, almost embarrassed to find yourself drooling as you braced your forearm on his thigh and kitten-licked at the underside of Joelâs cock. He grunted at the contact, his hands digging into the plush cushion of the couch as his hips twitched toward your face.
âEager,â you mumbled, a smile on your face as you looked up at Joel through your eyelashes. He was already looking down at you, his lips parted in anticipation and his breaths heavier than they were. You licked the tip of his cock again, the salty taste of his precum on your tongue. Thereâs something about the way that Joel lets a breath out through his teeth that makes you feel like you were set on fire.
You let out a breathy chuckle, wrapping your lips around the head of him and hollowing out your cheeks on your descent toward his lap. It was a lot to take, your eyes watering as you swallowed more of Joelâs cock. His moans and sighs were enough to keep you going, your lips curled over your teeth and your head bobbing up and down.
One of his hands found the curve of your jaw, calloused fingers tracing it before hooking around the back of your head. You were fine with his direction, letting Joel gently press your head down to dictate your speed.
The taste of him was salty and heady, a musk that was distinctly Joel filling your nose as you drooled and sucked his cock. It was slick with your spit, the mix of your saliva and his precum coating your lips and chin. You still had your hand wrapped around the base of him and moving in tandem with your mouth, ensuring you could get everything that your throat couldnât fit.
âGoddamn, sweetheart, you suck cock like you were made for it,â Joel said, his words punctuated with soft sighs and moans. It made you want to live permanently with his praise, your gaze flicking up to meet Joelâs for a moment.
He was completely blissed out, his head tilted back toward the ceiling as he bit his full lower lip between his teeth. His Adamâs apple kept moving erratically in his throat, like he couldnât decide whether to breathe or not. His hand still cupped the black of your head, half-thought praises falling frantically from his lips. Joel was barely speaking in sentences, some words falling to the wayside of his soft grunts.
Feeling emboldened, you moved your hand away and tried to relax your jaw as your head descended far enough that your nose was pressed firmly against Joelâs pubic hair. It smelled surprisingly clean, just the undertone of musk clinging to the dark, curly thatch of hair as you resisted the urge to choke around his cock.
It was thick and heavy in your throat as you swallowed around him, eliciting groans and his hand pressing tightly against the back of your head. Tears burned in your eyes as Joelâs thick cock twitched in your throat, your hands spread flat on your thighs as he moaned your praises.
Joel barely thrusted his hips toward your awaiting mouth, your eyes slipped shut so you could focus on relaxing your throat. Lungs burning, you finally pulled off to suck in deep breaths. Your hand resumed what your mouth had been doing moments before, taking Joel in your fist and using your saliva as lubrication.
âLook at how pretty you are,â Joel murmured, his southern accent thicker than normal as the hand on the back of your head shifted to cup your cheek. Your eyes were watery with a few tears tracking down your face, your lips swollen and saliva coating the entirety of your chin.
You smiled, stroking his cock as you struggled to regain your breath. âDidnât know you were such a good girl,â Joel drawled, dragging his thumb through the saliva on your chin and smearing the pad of it across your parted lips.
âWhen I want to be.â Your voice was thick and raspy, your eyes partially lidded. Your knees were digging into the carpet, his legs keeping you where you sat.
He smirked at that. Joel gently moved your hand away from his cock, his arms winding beneath your armpits and lifted you back up to the couch. You squealed in the back of your throat, surprised by his strength as he settled you against the arm of the couch and twisted to face you.
Large hands yanked your sweater over your head to reveal the black bra you wore, a soft groan coming from Joel. He didnât waste time, finding the back closure and popping it open. You helped him, guiding the thin straps down your arms and tossing the garment aside.
âChrist,â Joel mumbled, his thick fingers brushing over one of your nipples. A jolt of electricity traveled down your spine at the touch, warmth blooming on your cheeks.
You were impatient, panties already soaked through and feeling uncomfortable as you popped open the button on your jeans. âJoel, I need you,â you murmured, leaning forward to kiss him as you shimmied your pants and underwear over your hips.
âSo impatient,â he muttered between presses of your lips, pulling away so he could look at you properly. The firelight illuminated the curves and shadows that littered your body, stretch marks and scars visible on your skin. Self-consciousness reared its ugly head for a moment, your gaze fluttering away from Joelâs intensity as he just stared at you.
He grabbed your thighs, pulling you toward him until your back hit the couch. âJoelâŚâ you whined as he pressed your thighs apart, his dark eyes focused on your sex.
He spread the slicked lips apart with his thumb, making you cover your face with your hands out of embarrassment. âLook at youâŚâ he mumbled, hardly even talking to you. He let go of your other thigh, his fingertips teasing your clenching hole to gather some of the wetness dripping down you and smearing it across your clit.
You gasped, your back arching at the contact against the nerves. Joelâs fingers were calloused and thick and warm, drawing tight, slow circles over your clit as his other hand pressed into the crease between your inner thigh and your pubic bone. It kept your hips from squirming away from him.
âYouâre so sensitive, sweetheart,â Joel said, the smile audible in his voice. Youâd kept your hands over your face, your moans muffled by your palms as you resisted the urge to snap your thighs closed. You felt vulnerable and exposed under him.
âYouâre teasing,â you mumbled, your hips twitching in an attempt to get more friction from his calloused fingers. He kept his touch agonizingly light, making you whine and whimper in your desperation for more from him. He chuckled, fingers dipping to tease your entrance again before trailing back up to your clit.
âLet me see ya,â Joel said, his hand leaving the nestle of your thigh to wrap around your wrists and pull them away from your face. He held both in one hand, keeping your wrists captive against your sternum.
Your breaths were heavy, his fingers strumming over the swollen bump of your clit pulling moans from your throat. Joelâs eyes were partially lidded as he looked down at you, a smirk growing on his face at your desperate expression. âJoel, please,â you begged, your cunt clenching around empty space as you wished he would just fucking fill you up already.
He chuckled, clicking his tongue against his teeth with mock disapproval. âIf youâre so desperate, get up and turn around, sweetheart,â he said, pulling you up by your wrists. âMy knees arenât what they used to be, help an old man out.â
Youâd normally take that opportunity to make a joke at his expense, but you just let him move you around like a doll. He guided you so you were kneeling on the couch, your chest pressed against the back of it. You arched your back as much as you could, sticking your ass out and hoping you looked pretty as you looked at Joel over your shoulder. He didnât even bother getting undressed, just standing up behind you and taking his cock in his hand.
His other hand still rubbed over your cunt, smearing your arousal over your swollen lips and onto your inner thighs. Much to your relief, he pressed two thick fingers inside you. The sensation made you groan, resting your weight on your elbows and your knees as you pushed back against his fingers. They slid in so easy you were almost embarrassed.
âYouâll take me just fine, sweetheart,â Joel murmured, approval echoing in his voice. He crooked his fingers to press and massage the spongy spot inside of you, making your mouth fall open and your legs jerk.
You twisted enough to glare at him, Joel covered in shadow from the fire crackling behind him. âQuit being an asshole, Joel,â you said through your teeth, making him chuckle.
âWhere are your manners, sweetheart?â he asked, pulling his fingers from your cunt. He brought them to his mouth, sucking them clean with a sigh before grabbing your hip with a hand. His wet fingers smeared against your heated skin as he pulled you back a little more, making your back arch like a bow pulled too tight.
He slid the blunt head of his cock between your folds until it tapped against your clit, making him when you whimpered. Joel finally granted you what you wanted, lining up with your entrance and pressing his way in. His cock caught, sliding in so slow that it made you squirm.
âRelax, sweetheart.â Joelâs big hand slid up and down your curved spine, calloused fingers feeling each and every notch of your vertebrae. Your pussy fluttered around him, stretched out and so eager as he bullied his way inside of you. The breath you took in was frantic and overwhelmed, it felt as though he was pushing all of the air out of your body. The two fingers he had pressed inside of you as a test didnât prepare you at all for his thick cock.
You could hardly breathe, youâd never taken a cock this big inside of you without any preparationâbut you were too impatient to wait for him to stretch you out on his fingers. You were pathetic, whining and wheezing as your hands clenched against the cushions on the back of your couch.
Youâd never felt anything better in your life.
After what felt like ages, Joel was fully seated inside of you. His coarse jeans were pressed against your soft thighs, the two of you breathing heavily like youâd run a marathon.
âYouâve gotta relax. Feels like youâre gonna squeeze my dick off,â Joel said, slowly grinding his pelvis against the swell of your ass. You nodded, trying to take in deep breaths and get used to the feeling of being stretched full.
âSorry,â you muttered as you focused on becoming pliant, your taught muscles slowly releasing. His beard rasped against the back of your neck as he kissed you there, a moment of intimacy to calm you down. It felt like a reward, your breaths slowing as you unclenched around Joel and welcomed him deeper.
The sound you made when Joel pulled out and pressed back in was pathetic. It felt like he was sawing you in half, carving a space for his cock inside of you with each thrust. There was some caution to his movements, his fingers digging into the fat of your hips as he grit his teeth.
âSo fucking tight, sweetheart,â Joel said, his voice muffled as his mouth pressed against your neck. Each thrust coaxed a gasp from you, your nails digging into the fabric of the couch as you took whatever Joel is willing to give. Your vision was blurry from the overwhelmed tears brimming your eyes.
The sound of your bodies smacking together filled your living room, the open belt still threaded through Joelâs pants clinking on the off beat. He maintained his pace like a machine, drilling into the gummy spot inside you that made your eyes roll back in your head.
Your nipples were sensitive, rubbing against the coarse fabric of the couch cushions with every thrust. The noises you made were absolutely undignified, the sounds of someone being fucked completely stupid. He was filling you up so perfectly and the knowledge that it was Joel, your hardass patrol partner who never gave affection to anyone, it made you feel like youâd touched a live wire.
âTell me how it feels, sweetheart,â Joel said, a wide hand reaching around you to fondle your breast. He used it to bring you back, curving your spine so the back of your head was pressed against his collarbone and you looked up at where the wall and ceiling met.
You felt helpless and primal, your mind scattered a million different places. âSo good,â you gasped stupidly, hardly able to form words. Your hands grabbed his forearm and fisted in his flannel behind you, an effort to anchor yourself to him.
âI know,â he murmured, kissing the shell of your ear. You were vaguely aware of tears running down your cheeks, your mouth hanging open as you struggled to stay afloat. You were already lost, a sea of sensation pulling you under with only the places where you and Joel were pressed together serving as your lifeline.
Joelâs free hand reached around your belly, finding your neglected clit with practiced ease. You moaned his name like a broken record, your eyebrows furrowing. He rubbed it hard and fast, matching the pace he was rutting into you with. You already felt heat pooling in your lower abdomen.
âOh god,â you gasped, already shaking from head to toe and your grip tightening around his forearm. âJoel Iâmâyes, yes, yesââ
It felt like your whole world shattered as you came with a shout, your muscles convulsing. You clamped around Joelâs cock like a vise, your hips twitching wildly. Pleasure flooded through you from head to toe, warm and fuzzy and all-consuming. The sensation was simultaneously too much and not enough, Joel steadily fucking you through it as your vision went white.
Joel had to pull himself away from you, letting you slump forward on the couch cushion as you came down from your orgasm. You were clenching around nothing, whining at how cruel he was to leave you empty.
The wet, sticky sounds coming from him made you turn your head as you went boneless on the couch. Joelâs cheeks were red as he tugged at his cock, a hand squeezing the flesh of your ass. His dark eyes were focused on you, all loose limbed and spent.
He finally noticed you looking, his mouth open and panting. He took in your fucked out expression, your eyelashes clumped with tears and cheeks red. Heâd made a mess of you, the dazed look on your face his undoing as he let out a grunt. He sunk his teeth into his lower lip as he came, spurting thick come over your ass as his fingers dug into you.
You sighed as you felt his hot come land on your ass and back, pooling in the curve of your spine. You were still floaty and out of it, vaguely aware of him milking the last spurts of his spend from his thick cock.
âJesus,â he grumbled, swaying for a moment before sitting down on the couch next to you. He gathered you in his arms, pulling you onto his lap and against his chest as you went perfectly limp.
You nuzzled against his neck, humming your affection as his hand rubbed up and down your back. The motion smeared his come along your skin, his fingers rubbing it in like body lotion. It was like heâd stuck your brain in a blender, the mush of the aftermath hardly able to form more than feelings as you pressed your forehead against his beard.
âIâll beat up the whole town if this is the thanks I get,â Joel said, pressing a kiss to your temple. His barrel chest shook beneath you with a chuckle, his hands never straying from your body.
âNo oneâs gonna want to touch me with a ten-foot pole,â you muttered after a moment of silence, it took you a beat to even process what Joel was saying. He snickered, seeming pleased with himself as you melted deeper into his embrace.
âGood, I should be the only one touching you,â he said, making warmth bloom in your chest. âUnless Iâm assuming things.â
You smiled, a sleepy look still on your face as you wound your arms around his neck and snuggled in closer. âSo this wasnât a spur of the moment thing?â you asked, sounding shy as you said it.
Joel chuckled, shaking his head. âYou know how many times I had to go home after patrol and take a cold shower just because you bumped my arm or bent over to pick something up? Felt like a damn teenager.â
You giggled, picking your head up to look at Joel properly. He looked so soft and sweet around the edges, that normal fire and flintiness was gone from his dark eyes. âYou gonna stay tonight?â
He pulled you in for a kiss, it was sweet and over all too soon. âIf youâll let me,â Joel said, sounding earnest.
You nodded, tucking your head back against his neck. You were starting to succumb to your drowsy state, your eyes sliding shut as you puddled into Joel. You were vaguely aware of him lifting you off the couch, his good-natured grumbling about carrying you up the stairs filling your ears.
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