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sweet child o' mine | pt. i
purely just some fun and games putting big grumpy joel miller slap bang in the middle of a romcom. i hope you guys enjoy. dedicated to big sis @mrsmando, who is the light of my life, let herself be completely swept away by this idea into unhinged, whimsical mania with me, and who inspired so many lil details for this story. love u, zhort x
pairing: neighbor!joel x fem!reader
summary: you strike up a deal to attend a wedding with your neighbor as his date. what could go wrong?
warnings: age gap (late 20s reader, late 40s joel), grumpy!joel initially finds reader mildly infuriating, cursing, alcohol consumption, discussion of a car accident (non-graphic) & dead parents, softdom!joel as per, fingering, handjob, comeplay, spitting, drunk unprotected one night stand, creampie, praise kink, one mention of nausea (but nothing happens, my little emetophobic angels), someone falls pregnant and it's not joel miller i'll tell you that much. honk if you love cats!!!
word count: 9.8k
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It’s just gone seven on a Saturday night when his knuckles rap on your door.
The sun casts tall, angled shapes on your living room wall. Lights the pages before you in a glow of tangerine. Refracts through the glass tumbler on your coffee table and bleeds the amber liquid onto the pale wood surface. Everything lit in some variation of gold, everything bowing its head quietly as the day begins to turn its back.
The house is still. The world feels still, as though transitioning. Like you’re sat in a waiting room, leg bouncing, anticipating something you don’t know to look for yet.
Perfect, comfortable, still – until he’s on your porch. And he knocks again.
You snap your book shut and slide it across the table, nudging the heavy glass. The ice clinks, irritated.
“You mind fastenin’ your…delicates to your clothesline a little better?”
His voice shoulders its way into your hallway before you’ve even pulled the door back enough to see him. Not that you need to see him to know who it is. You’ve lived in Austin three years now and met only one person with a voice as low and toneless as Joel Miller’s. Slung in sarcasm, dripping with disdain. All that.
You cross your arms and slant against the doorframe, unable to mask your amusement. “Excuse me?”
He answers by lifting his left hand. From his pointer finger hang a tiny pair of white panties, lace pattern fluttering in the late summer breeze. You glance over his shoulder as you steal them from his grasp, balling them in your fist.
“Uhuh. They were sitting on my back lawn. I have company tonight, y’know. I can’t have women’s underwear just – lyin’ in my damn yard.”
Your head tilts. Ears prick. “Company? You hostin’ somethin’?”
His shoulders drop with a sigh. “No. I am not hostin’ anythin’.”
“Good. ‘cause I’d want an invite.”
“If I were hostin’, you’d be the last person I would invite. And you know that.”
“Ouch,” you pout, “that hurts, Miller. I watered your plants while you were off visiting your brother last month. They woulda died without me there.”
“And I am grateful to you,” Joel grumbles, “but that doesn’t mean I need those anywhere in view of my kitchen window.” He throws a pointed finger to your elbow, where your panties sit scrunched in your fist.
You look down to the froth of frill spilling between your knuckles, and back up to his dark features – his glower casting a shadow over the hazel eyes and deepening the creases between his brows. You smirk, a realization dawning.
Company – that he doesn’t want seeing a pair of someone else’s underwear.
“You have a date.”
Joel’s tongue flicks across the inside of his cheek. He glances over his shoulder and speaks through his teeth. “No, not a date,” he quietly tells the street.
“But you have a lady comin’ over. Or at least – someone you don’t want seeing these.” You unfold your arms and twirl your fist. The gentle wind lifts the lace.
He grunts. A low hmph. Agreement, you think.
“Sounds like a date.”
He hisses, “’s not a date.”
Your stare doesn’t slip from his. Not when his brows tighten, not when his jaw does, too. Not even when he sucks a breath between gritted teeth. Your smile widens.
Finally, with a sigh, he concedes. “It’s…it’s somebody Tommy ‘n Maria are tryna set me up with. Alright?”
“So – a date.”
“If you don’t –” Joel’s head flicks over to his own driveway at the same time his hand lifts, a pointed gesture you read as – shut the fuck up. “We’re just having a few drinks. Just – hangin’ out.”
“Just hangin’ out,” you repeat, eyes widening. “One-on-one. With some woman who – Wait, Tommy’s in Wyoming. How the hell do he and his wife know someone way the hell down here?”
“From before they moved. And – Maria ain’t his wife. Yet. They’re getting married next month.”
Suddenly the sun reappears over the dark horizon. The evening begins to clear up, make sense again. You lift your chin, nodding.
“Right, right. So, she gonna be your plus one, or…?”
The understanding raises his heckles again. Exasperated, he asks, “How many damn questions are you gonna –? I’m only here to – to return your –” He nods once more to the pale fabric in your hand.
A laugh shoots from your nostrils. “What’s the matter? You don’t like – whatever her name is?”
“Laura.”
“Laura,” you breathe.
“And there ain’t nothin’ wrong with her. She just – she…”
“She…?”
“She has, like, five cats, and it’s just…hair, everywhere. And at their engagement party, she spilled an entire margarita down me. Right down my –” He sweeps a hand down his front, balling his fists again once they reach the hem of his shirt.
Your lips turn, amused. “Five cats. Cat lady Laura. Well. Have fun, I guess. Thanks for these.”
He acknowledges your raised fist with a bashful glance. He’s already halfway down your front steps when he says, “Keep an eye on your laundry from now on,” and strides off back to his own place.
Joel has lived here his whole life. In Austin. You’ve no idea when he moved in next door, just that he was here when you did. You don’t know much about him at all – the fact he even filled you in enough to tell you about his date is shocking enough.
The day you first arrived, U-Haul truck squealing to a halt by the curb, he found himself unlucky enough to be stood in his front yard watering the blond patches of his grass. He saw you struggling to open the rear door of the truck, and with a grumble and a glance across the street for a more eager rescuer, he tossed his hose and came over to help.
He unclicked the heavy latch and pushed the door up with enough ease to put you to shame. And he seemed to feel some obligation when he saw the mass of belongings stuffed in the back, to help you unload them. Didn’t seem overjoyed by the thought, mind you, what with the sigh he let slip when you hopped up and held out the first box.
He indulged you for no more than one hour. Answered every question you had about the neighborhood, dodged every one about himself. He told you about the couple across the street with the newborn baby, told you about your neighbor on the other side who pretends to garden just so she can snoop on everyone else’s business. And as soon as the last box thudded down on your gleaming living room floor, he nodded, and paced back over to his own property.
He's a good guy. You know this much. He’s a dick to you most days, but he’s honest, and he’s kind when you catch him in the right light. He takes deliveries for you when you’re not home; he once drove Diane to the vets when she showed up on his doorstep in the dead of night, Fred the Jack Russell ailing in her arms.
He’s observant. Noticed just this summer the three different plumbers who showed up to your house in the space of two days, and came over as the third guy was leaving – his shining bald head low between his shoulders.
‘s the matter? Joel asked, watching the navy overalls sink into the rusted vehicle.
Kitchen sink’s leakin’. Fuckin’ – nobody can fix it.
He shouldered you out of the way with his then-trademark sigh and left twenty minutes later, your kitchen finally free of the dripdripdrip you’d been plagued with for a week straight.
He’s good. He’s a good neighbor. But, man, is he private.
You’ve never seen the inside of his place. His body blocks it anytime you’re on his doorstep. He has a brother, you know that – though, only since last month, when he asked you to keep an eye on his garden – and you know, now, that the brother is getting married.
You know that he likes country music, know he plays guitar – accidentally. You heard him one day in the spring, when he left his window open and you were lounging by your pool. When he looked out and noticed how you’d angled your sunbed to listen, really listen, he slammed it shut.
You know he’s single and childless and has been for at least the three years you’ve lived next door to him.
You know little fucking else.
The words on the curled pages seep into one another. You’re staring through the book now back in your hands, the shape of your living room blurring around you: the brick fireplace, the still, red light of the TV. The lulling sway of the sheer curtains, pushed like the tides by the air through the open window.
You cross your ankles on the coffee table. Your lips purse. Tongue dabs at the smoky-sweet singe of whiskey on the flesh of your cheeks. From here, you can see the street outside Joel’s house. If – when – Laura pulls up, you’ll know. And you’ll be here to watch. Survey. Observe.
See what kind of woman a guy like Joel Miller takes to his brother’s wedding.
It’s nine fifty-two when she eventually leaves.
She’s been in there two hours and seventeen minutes. Her car – a kind of rotten green Chevrolet with one tail light out – sits patiently out front, like even it can’t wait to help her fucking disappear.
You’re hoisting a swollen black bag down your drive when his porch light flickers on and his front door opens. The glossy plastic exhales as it slumps against the trashcan. You dust your hands. Joel hasn’t noticed you yet.
“…so nice gettin’ to properly know you,” Laura’s crooning, sidestepping as Joel walks calmly down to her car. Ushering her. You hold back a laugh.
“Thanks for comin’,” he says, his voice falling flat in the windless evening. He’s a step ahead of her, like a parent leading their child away from the park. She’s still babbling about his six-string.
“Maybe next time I can hear a little somethin’…” she says, and you know from the way he halts that Joel hears the same questioning tone you do, the way somethin’ curls up at its end.
“Maybe,” he says, curtly. His words curl down. And then nothing else, and Laura – who, now that she’s a little closer, stood on the curb by her car door, you notice has sweeping golden hair which flicks away from her plump cheeks, and bright eyes which dazzle in the dusky glow – is forced to cough up one last chance.
“I gave you my number,” she says, then, “I didn’t get yours?” and this time, it’s definitely a question.
Joel pretends to pat down his pockets. “I musta left my phone in the house.”
You can’t help it. A scoff bursts from your lips. But he still doesn’t look over.
“Well,” Laura tugs on the handle, “thank you for a lovely evenin’. I’ll hear from ya.”
Joel smiles but puts a hand on the door, like he might slam it shut for her if she tried to backtrack. But she doesn’t. She swings both legs in, pulls it closed, and the engine spurts to life.
As she pulls off, Chevrolet jolting a little, you notice the bright yellow bumper sticker plastered squint beneath the license plate. You walk silently over to Joel, grass prickly under your socks.
“Honk If You Love…Cats,” you murmur, shoulder brushing off his bicep.
He sniffs. Tightens the grip his arms have on his chest. His eyes are fixed on the one red light, slowly shrinking into the distance. “Don’t even.”
“Good date?”
“I said don’t.”
“She talk much about her cats?”
“Goodnight.”
“Did you ask their names, at least?”
He’s backing up, crossing the dark lawn towards his front steps. He looks you up and down, his lips a flat line. Your sweat shorts. Your bare legs. The tight vest top molded around your breasts. His eyes shoot back up. “No more questions. No more pesterin’ me.”
“Nothin’ about the cats? Seriously, dude?” You lift your arms, grinning after his dark figure, swaggering up the porch steps.
Joel ignores you. He disappears through his front door and the light is snuffed. You slink back up to your house, grateful for the blanket of darkness covering the skip in your step.
Eleven hours later, you’re stood in front of your bedroom mirror.
The day melts against your window. Brilliant blue sky, cradling soft puffs of snow-white clouds. Crows on Diane’s roof cawing, slowly yellowing trees rustling. The bright, hot square across your front where the sun forces her way in.
You turn, taking the loose hem of your sleepshirt in your fingers, and pull it over your body, tossing it to the foot of the bed as you examine the pattern of colors hanging from inside your closet.
You take them one by one, tug them free, slot them back in. Eventually you settle for a gray hoodie, cropped and loose. As you haul it from its hanger, there’s a whine from the wooden cabinet. A squeal. The top shelf rips from either side, dropping to the closet floor and taking the pole with it.
“What the f–? You gotta be fucking kidding me,” you growl, stepping forward to run your fingers along the splintered wood where the nails have ripped themselves free. Four black holes, jagged insides of the closet pricking your fingertips.
The crumple of clothes and hangers sulks up at you pathetically. You fall back onto your bed with a sigh, staring up at the ceiling. The fan whirs slowly, scooping your gaze and throwing it in lazy circles.
The closet was old, anyways. Was here when you moved. It’s probably about time you had some new ones built. But fuck, that’s gonna cost. Ripping the old ones out, building them from scratch. The fan pulls your eyes back around to twelve o’clock.
Joel’s a contractor. He could do ‘em. Might give you a discounted rate, too, for all the times you move his newspaper from his front lawn to his doorstep for him. Either that, or he’d want something in return. And what handy skills do you have? You once knitted a scarf for you grandma for Christmas. Maybe not Joel’s thing. You can cook mac ‘n cheese – though one lousy meal isn’t payment enough for an entire wall of solid wood, two panes of glass and two days’ labor.
A favor, maybe. An IOU. What the fuck kinda favor does Joel Miller need–?
You’re hopping over the tiny burst of hedge between his yard and yours before the thought is finished, bending to scoop his newspaper up and slotting it under your arm. He answers just as you lift your fist to pound on his door for a second time.
You slap the rolled paper into his chest. “I have an idea.”
He squints at you in the summer light. “Wh–? Didn’t I tell you not to p–?”
“I’ll be your date.”
Joel blinks.
“I’ll be your date,” you repeat. “I got a wardrobe needs replacing. You do it, for free, and I’ll be your date.”
“Your wardrobe?”
“Crapped out on me this mornin’. I don’t want to pay for some stranger who’ll overcharge me ‘n do a half-assed job. Fix it, ‘n you don’t have to take cat lady Laura to Tommy’s wedding. And you can fix my kitchen sink, too.”
“I already fixed your kitchen sink.”
“It’s back at it. Drippin’ all through the damn night. Drip drip drip –”
“Alright.” Joel’s palm is up again. He does that a lot when he’s talking to you. “Alright. Wardrobe ‘n sink.”
“We have a deal?” you ask, extending your hand.
His chest fills with a thoughtful breath. His eyes scan you up and down, lingering somewhere a little lower than your jaw for a second. And then, the heavy weight of his palm against yours. The tightening of his fingers around your wrist. One sure shake.
Deal.
Two weeks before the wedding, you’re at Joel’s door again.
He’s in a black tee, dark sweatpants slung low on his hips. His hair is damp, fringe still dripping onto his forehead. He runs a hand through the gray-singed brown and stares at the tangle of fabric slung over your arm. “The hell is this?”
“Do you know what you’re wearin’?”
His eyes roll up to meet yours. “Do I know what I’m wearin’?”
You nod. “You’re the best man. Guessing Tommy has you covered?”
“Black suit,” he says, after a beat.
“That’s it? He ain’t got no theme?”
Joel’s head cocks. “I don’t do themes.”
You roll your eyes, ducking under his arm fixed against the doorpost. He manages three words of protest and then shuts the door in resignation, turning to watch as you take his stairs two at a time.
“You are so damn annoyin’, you know that?” his voice echoes behind you.
“You want this date or not, Miller?” you call over your shoulder, following the route through the identical house to your own bedroom – thankful when you nudge the door and it opens to reveal his bland, colorless decor. “Very…gray,” you note, feeling the shadow of him over your shoulder.
You throw the dresses down on his bed, satin and lace and pink and green swimming between one another on his sheets.
“I’m not wearin’ a dress.”
You glower at him. “Ha. We have to match.”
He rubs the towel against the back of his head, drying the dark hair. “Match how?”
“Y’know, your suit ‘n my dress. If I’m your date, we have to match.”
“Already told you. I’m wearin’ a black suit.”
“Right. But, like – what color tie? And can it be any of these colors?” You hold your hands out, surfing over the sea of shades. “Maybe,” you lift your eyebrows, eyes darting to the pale teal color, “this one?”
Joel entertains you for all of five seconds, lifting his cheeks in a false grin before they deflate. “No. Black.”
“Joel.”
He slings the towel over his folded arms, and looks at you plainly. “Black,” he says again, in a tone of voice which sounds something like a door being slammed shut.
Your eyes thin, and you gather your dresses up in one swipe. “Can you just –? Will you make sure that you match my corsage, at least?”
“Why the hell are you so hung up on this?”
“I’m not. I’m just tryna make it believable. You turned down cat lady Laura, this is what you get.”
He sighs, tossing the towel over to his laundry basket. “I will make sure I match your corsage. Happy?”
“Happy. Are you ready?”
“Give me five minutes.”
You huff, head rolling back. “You are so prima-donna, Joel Miller.”
With a sarcastic chuckle, he shoves you out of his bedroom to get dressed. You saunter down his stairs, drinking in every detail of his home as though it’s the only chance you’ll get to see it.
It probably is, when you think about it. You don’t imagine he’ll be inviting you over for drinks anytime soon.
Your eyes move along the wall as you slowly thump down his stairs, thrown from framed photo to framed photo – a black and white photo of a man with a tousle-haired boy on his lap, the kid’s tongue sticking from the corner of his mouth as he wraps his small hand around the neck of a guitar; an out-of-focus Christmas photo, a family of four sat in front of a million multicolored orbs dotted along the branches of a tree; a kid with skinned knees crouched by a German shepherd, his lanky arms hooked around the dog’s thick neck.
One brown suede jacket hangs from a coat peg at the bottom, Joel’s boots sat loose and unlaced beneath. A dark blue blanket draped over the back of his couch. A painting of a moose over his fireplace. Shelves lining one entire wall decorated with carved-wood animals, with more photographs of times gone and memories made, with books and DVDs that lend your fingertip with a heap of white dust as you drag it across their spines.
Enough to paint a picture, not quite enough to show you the colors. The tones, the depth. Despite your best efforts, the man remains a mystery. You settle with the fact he will never be fully revealed.
The creak of his stairs turns your attention from the guitar on the wall around to his tall figure, fixing the collar of the loose flannel over his shoulders.
“You ready?” Joel asks, bending with a groan to reach for his boots.
“Yep,” you reply, leaning forward to glance into his kitchen while his head’s down. The most you manage to observe are the light drapes, the sunlight shooting through and bouncing off of a white-topped island.
“’s go,” he says, keys dangling from his finger.
It takes twenty minutes to drive to Home Depot.
You chitter in Joel’s ear the entire time, reading from his handwritten list of measurements and supplies needed for your new closet. ‘n how do you know this is all enough? Because I know. What if you get started and it’s not? I won’t; it’s enough. You sound so sure. That’s ‘cause I’ve done it before, kid. You take many closetless girls out on fake wedding dates, Joel?
“What’s our story, then?” you ask in the store, fiddling with hanging packets of door hinges while Joel reads thrice over his note. Your hand dives into the bag of M&M’s he begrudgingly bought you at a gas station on the way.
“Our story?” he mumbles back, the words slipping under the mental math you can see going on behind his eyes.
“Like, when people ask how we met. What’s our meet-cute? Both reached for the same door hinge, our hands touched and lit aflame? That kinda thing?”
He doesn’t laugh. Your smile dampens instantly. You kick his boot. “Joel.”
“’sec,” he frowns, “I’m focusing.”
You lean close, pushing on your toes to study the folded slip. His scrawled numbers, the pencil lines blunt and smudged in the creases of the paper.
“Twentytwofortysixeightyninetyfivesixhundredelevenfourtwelvenineteen–”
Joel’s lips seep a maddened sigh; he glances down the aisle like a store attendant might separate you from him if he demanded with enough passion, or maybe if he slipped them a twenty.
“Do you mind?” he barks, his expression a brick wall for your giggles to fall flat to the floor against.
“Home Depot’s your stomping ground. Why the hell do I gotta come watch you pick hinges and timber?”
“Because it’s your damn closet I’m fittin’. Just –” he swipes two packets from their peg, tossing them into the shopping cart, “– come on.”
Joel makes off down the muck-colored floor, the overhead lights reflecting harshly in the shiny surface. The front right wheel of the cart trembles as it rolls, nervously leading the two of you down an aisle lined with cylinder tins and pamphlets on Choosing the right finish.
“So, are your parents gonna be at this wedding?” you ask, taking the cart from Joel’s hands when he drifts off to study a shelf of wood varnish.
His jaw turns towards you, and then back to the tin in his hand. “Yeah. Why?”
“Do I get to meet ‘em?”
“No.”
“Oh, come on. You’re not gonna introduce your date to your mom and dad?”
He scoffs, stealing a handful of candy. “My fake date?”
“They don’t know that. Let me meet Mr. and Mrs. Miller.”
He holds two tins up, offering them to you like answer to your question. “Matt or gloss? Guess it don’t really matter if I’m painting ‘em after.”
“Stop fuckin’ ignoring me. I hate when you do that.”
He leans in close, lowering the matt varnish into the cart. “You think I’m gonna introduce you ‘n your potty mouth to my mom?”
You smirk, eyes narrow. “Dick.”
“Funny. What color paint you want? You said something about duck egg?”
“Planning on repainting my room that color, yeah. Hey, you could –”
He swats your pointed finger away, taking the cart back. “We shook on new wardrobe. No changin’ the deal,” he mutters, wandering over to the rainbow of paint tins on the opposite side of the aisle.
You follow him over, eyes moving from blue over to green, the tins plastered with the fake smiles of families and fluffy pet dogs on the front. “Where are your mom and dad from?” you ask.
“Austin,” he replies, eyes squinting to read the small print on the back of one vibrant shade. You shake your head and guide his wrist back to the shelf, where he obediently sets the heavy tin back. “Never known anywhere else,” he adds. “What about you? Where’s Mr. and Mrs. Potty Mouth?”
“Uh,” you swipe at your nose awkwardly, “they’re up in Allandale. That’s where I grew up.”
“That so? I got a cousin who used to live that way. Used to take my bike up every Saturday. He lived right by this old car shop, all these old classics they used to fix up ‘n resell.”
“Yeah,” you say, “right next to the cemetery, right?”
“That’s the one,” Joel says, lifting paint tins to the light and setting them down again. “They live nearby?”
Your breathing shifts, starts to claw its way up your throat. Your chest heats, skin lighting with an irritating anxiety. “They’re, um,” you gulp, “they’re in the cemetery.”
Joel pauses, letting the tin slip from his grasp with an echoing thud against the wooden shelf which reverberates in your ears a second too long. “Oh,” he says, set on your expression.
“It’s okay – I don’t mind. It’s – it was a car accident, back when I was eight. I wasn’t in it, or anything. I grew up with my grandma. Really, Joel, I don’t mind,” you add, when his face falls and he begins to apologize.
“I had no idea,” he says, and you break the eye contact before you break a fucking sweat.
“’s all good,” you murmur, lifting paint tins of your own now, focusing on deblurring your glossy vision, “I got to buy a big house with the money they left.”
It thaws him a little. He snorts, and taps the lid of the tin you’re holding. “That one’s nice. You, uh – you okay?”
You finally turn back, the world clearer, colors no longer bleeding into one another through sharp tears. “Yeah. I’m fine. We got everything?”
Joel nods, and wheels the cart around. “You can meet her, if you want. My mom. She’s a little full on, but I reckon you can handle her.”
You smile, following him down the aisle.
A month after he delivered your underwear back to you, you’re back on Joel’s doorstep.
Your hand flicks nervously at your side as you wait for him to answer, petals of your corsage quivering. The clip of his footsteps echoes down the stairs, a deep sound growing louder and louder until the door clinks open and you’re separated only by air.
Joel’s eyes scan down your body at the same time yours scan down his. Black suit, sure enough, just without the jacket, and with his tie slung around his loose collar. You both freeze when your eyes meet again, your lips silently forming the shape of an avalanche of words that refuse to sound until Joel’s do.
“Wow, you –”
“– look great, I –”
“– nice dress, is that –? Sorry –”
“– no, I’m sorry, you were – sorry.” A laugh pushes from your throat. “You look – you look good. Scrub up well, ‘n all that.”
“You too. You – Yeah. That’s a nice color, after all. You suit it.” His eyes linger on your chest, your breasts draped in lustrous silk, decorated with the glint of golden jewelry. You notice.
“Thanks. After all?” You snort, and Joel’s exterior seems to crack a little.
He steps back, ushering you in. “Alright,” he says, taking the tote with your change of clothes from your wrist. He watches across the street as you step over the threshold, his fingertips light on your back as you pass by, like little shocks of lightning up your spine. “You know what I meant.”
Your dress swishes around your ankles, your heels clicking along his varnished floor. Your arms lock around your torso, holding your pashmina in place while Joel totters around, tossing his jacket over his shoulders. His shirt stretches from his tight waistband, fabric flattening against his tummy. Your eyes shoot north again when he speaks.
“You mind doin’ my tie? It’ll end up squint if I do.”
“Sure,” you reply, stepping forward.
He buttons the top of his shirt and lifts his chin, staring at the wall behind you as you tug on the black fabric, the silk slipping through your fingers. You steal glances at the trim of his beard, his pink lips beneath the dark bristles; the slope of his nose, the lines on his worn skin.
He’s rough around the edges, sure, a man in his late forties. But there’s something soft about him, something familiar and…comfortable. The pages of a used sketchbook, the lived-in material of a favorite dress.
You pull the knot higher until it’s sitting in the notch below his Adam’s apple, smoothing it down and giving his chest a light pat before stepping back again.
“Thanks, darlin’,” he mumbles, and a spark lights in your chest. “Oh,” he says, holding a finger up and disappearing into the kitchen. He returns with a little white box, holding it out for you to see.
Your cheeks swell, eyes flitting up to acknowledge the proud look on his face. “Very nice. Good job.”
“You can do the honors,” Joel says, handing you the boutonniere by the stem.
You pin it through his lapel, straightening it with a focused glance. Joel’s eyes are on you, watching the flutter of your eyelashes, the tilt of your head. “There,” you whisper, leaning back.
He extends his elbow, something of a smile on his lips. You don’t see it often. It beckons a mirrored expression.
Arm in arm, Joel leads you out to the truck, where he helps you up and waits for you to scoop your dress into the footwell before closing the door. You watch patiently as he locks the front door, slings both your bags over his shoulder and jogs back to the truck, tossing them in the backseat before joining you in the front.
“How come he didn’t send a limousine? Or a Jag, or somethin’?”
“You think we’re made a’ money?” Joel asks, smirking.
You return the smile, wrapping your shawl over your body. “Can I pick the music?” you ask, earnestly, a tinge of sweetness to your voice.
Joel glances over again, reaches behind your headrest to reverse out of the drive. He runs his tongue along his top teeth. “No,” he says.
Three hours later, Tommy and Maria are married.
The wedding is…big. Joel’s family is big. The venue – a rustic hotel suite, fairy lights draped from the rafters, blooming flowers sprouting from crystal vases, lace tablecloths and tied chair cushions and wax dripping from thick, naked candles – is big.
Joel’s been good about it – that friendly neighbor you see all too little has been kicked into high gear. He delivered you by hand straight to his mom – a small woman with silver hair neatly twisted into an updo at the back of her head – who took your hand and held it tightly all the way to your seats.
Kind and warm, she asked where you were from, how you met Joel, how long you’d been dating. She offered you some tissues before the ceremony started, then winked and nodded in Joel’s direction as the bridesmaids swept down the aisle.
You lingered behind the photographer while he took photos of the wedding party, instructing them to shuffle a little closer, that’s it; ma’am, with the red hair, lower your bouquet a little; alright, now, everyone: big smiles!
You worried that Joel had kept the same placated smile frozen on his face for so long that it might never melt away, might never return to the stoic scowl you’re so used to seeing on him. You didn’t even realize you were staring at him, until he waved you down, flicked his hand, and beckoned you over to the group.
You hesitated. I don’t know if I –
Get over here, girl, Tommy had called, grinning alongside his big brother.
The two Millers slotted you in like a jigsaw piece between their bodies, two arms wrapped around your back – Tommy’s, loose on your shoulders, and Joel’s, tight around your waist. He held you close, squeezing you into his side while the photographer praised the party and snapped photo after photo, the flash burning into your eyes by the time he clapped his hands and thanked you all for your patience.
Drink? Joel had asked, and you’d responded with one thumb up, the other massaging your eyelids. He squeezed your shoulder and disappeared into the crowd of bodies.
He’s still over there – by the bar, a wooden structure draped in ivy and studded by steel bolts. His beer in one hand and your wine in the other. A lean, poised figure stood opposite him – her dress a royal purple, her hair a wave of brown spilling over her bare shoulders.
She’s beautiful – a striking charm which draws your eye to her like an arrow directly through the sea of bodies between here and there. Her languid movements, the slow roll of her neck to sweep the hair from one side of her body to the other.
Her head falls back in laugher, her bejeweled hand falls softly on his arm. Your throat closes sharply. Joel nods, angling as if to make off, but she holds onto him and leans in. He laughs, then, at whatever her full lips whisper into his ear, and he finally breaks off from her and returns to you.
He pushes the glass by its base across the smooth tablecloth. Your fingers brush over one another as you trade, the stem sitting between your index and middle. He’s warm, his knuckles kissing yours.
“How was it, then, talkin’ to my mom?” Joel asks.
You smile, propping your chin on the heel of your palm. “I like her. She’s funny.” And then, when he tosses his head in response, “Who were you talkin’ to?”
Joel follows your eyeline over to the woman in the purple dress. The glint of white crystal on her neck. The drama of dark hair on pale skin. “Uh,” he wanders around your back to his chair, “we used to work together.”
Your nails tap against the glass. “Oh, yeah?”
He sniffs. Doesn’t meet your eye. “Yep.”
“You were talking to her for a long time.”
He watches a blue orb dance over your head on the wall, a spot of light from the disco ball over the dancefloor. “Lotta memories.”
“Why won’t you look at me?”
His eyes plummet. Fall from the string bulbs straight to your face, sparkling in the rainbow lights. “You want me to look at you? There.”
You grin. “’s better. If you stare up there long enough, they might stick.”
“Safer to have ‘em stuck on you, is it?”
“Mhm,” your voice echoes around the curve of your wine glass, “better view. So, who is she?”
Joel shifts uncomfortably. He twirls the bottle in his fingers. “We…we were together for some time. A few years.”
“An ex,” you muse, stain of lipstick left on the rim of your glass. “How many years?”
“Eight.”
You almost choke on your drink. “Eight – eight years?”
Joel nods, waiting for you to catch your breath. Expression never changing. Bottle still twirling. “Haven’t seen her in a while. We were just catchin’ up.”
“Eight fucking years. Why the fuck aren’t you married?”
He scoffs. “That’s a fifth-date question.” He lifts the bottle to his lips, tongue pushes against the glass.
“I don’t need five fuckin’ wardrobes,” you quip, and he laughs. Like, genuinely laughs. His head tips back, his teeth show. Your chest swells, confidence and relief blooming there. She didn’t make him laugh like that – not from where you were watching.
It becomes something of a mission in the back of your mind – tallying up how many times you can make his chest shudder, his shoulders jerk. How many times he leans in closer and repeats whatever you said, eyes closing over and hand hitting his thigh. How many times he looks at you and your stomach flutters, the blood cartwheels through your veins, the bones of your ribcage readjust and make room for the swelling of your heart.
Within four rounds, you’ve lost count.
The thudding beat of the music muffles in your drunken ears, like it’s coming from the next room. Your gaze fixes on the vase in the center of the table, the bouquet spilling over the glass. The wide burst of speckled lilies, the humble blush of tulips between. The colors soften and blur the longer you stare at them.
The jerk of Joel’s shoulders stirs you from your daydream. That’s one more.
“What?” you ask, head rolling to look over to him.
“You still in there?” he asks, one word slurring into the next like waves lapping.
You scoff, looking back to the pink flowers. “You know who has tulips?” you ask him.
He lifts his eyebrows. Who?
“Alice.”
“Brown?”
Your head nods heavily. “One time, she was out getting her mail, and I had just pulled up in my car on the phone to my best friend – he’d just broken up with his girlfriend, it was a whole thing…” You bat your hand. “Anyway. She pretended to tend to her tulips for forty-five minutes while I sat talkin’ to him in the driveway.”
Joel’s head tilts back with a burst of laughter. “She hear every word?”
“Every – damn – word. Stood by the fence listenin’.”
“That woman is som’ else,” Joel says, shaking his head. He stares down at the bottle between his fingers. His thumbs play with the curled corner of the label. “Didn’t I warn you about her?”
“Mhm.” You smile, realizing he has the same memory that you do, locked up somewhere in his mind. The sweat running down his temple, the dark patch between his shoulder blades. His hands gripping the heavier boxes, leaving you to carry the linen, the base of a lamp. Nodding as he wandered back over to his own porch, calling back for you to Holler if you need anythin’.
The high squeal of the Sweet Child O’ Mine intro snaps you back to the wedding reception. Tommy and Maria are playing air guitar on the dancefloor over Joel’s shoulder. You unstick your gaze from his white shirt, unsure how long you’ve been fucking staring.
Joel sits forward, drags his chair across the polished floor closer to you. He fixes the strap on your dress, untwisting it before settling back again. Your eyes follow his fingers as they leave your shoulder and sit back on the curve of his thigh, lifting when his voice breaks through to your eardrums.
“What room number did you say you were, again?”
Your shoulders roll. “Thirty-four, I think.”
Joel nods. Points to himself. “Thirty-six.” And then he glances over his shoulder, watches as Tommy kneels before Maria and rocks his head, his messy mop of hair tossed across his shoulders. The older Miller brother turns back. “Think they’ll miss us if we call it a night?”
“We’re callin’ it a night?”
“Figure if I’m headin’ off then you won’t wanna be sat here by yourself,” Joel says, and he’s right. He stands up, sets the half-empty bottle on the tablecloth and stares down at you. “I’m callin’ it a night,” he tells you. “You comin’?”
The colors in the room spin like the reels of a slot machine. Your fingers sit lightly in his outstretched palm, and you pull yourself up alongside him.
“’s a good girl,” he mutters, looking over your shoulder to the doorway, and your eyes sober up long enough to catch the flicker in his eye.
You totter along the hallway, arm in arm, anchoring yourselves together. Whichever way one sways, the other inevitably follows. You’re laughing, and Joel’s hushing you, warning that there are folks tryna – tryna sleep, we’re in a fancy place, hey, da-rlin’, no – you gotta shhhut up.
“Great party,” you decide, finally docking against your door.
“Yeah,” Joel agrees, leaning a little on the wall. The gentle glow of the hallway lights him perfectly; the strong angle of his jaw, the curve of his cheekbones. The hazel pools that make up his irises, the swollen circles of black in the middle. And the twinkle in them, like the moon reflecting on dark water, every time his gaze lifts to you.
He’s different tonight. Maybe it’s the alcohol. The way it colors everything in a peachy film, all objects softened and rosy and shapeless. But he feels different, too. You suddenly realize, shoulder pressed hard against the cold doorframe, that you’ve never touched one another more than you have today. His elbow in yours, his arm around your waist, his hand through yours as you danced together.
“Are you tired?” you ask, head rolling.
“Tired? No. Drunk, yeah. Not tired.” He laughs again. It’s infectious.
“You wanna come inside?” you ask, words leaping from your giggle.
He takes ten seconds to consider it. Slumps into the wall, steadied only by his forearm pushing him back upright. His watch face catches the light behind him.
“Yeah. Fuck yeah, I do.”
Your hand fumbles in your clutch for the keycard, swiping the handle and pushing down heavily. You spill into the dark room, light sneaking in from the sconce outside your window, and spin back to face him, his hand locked tight with yours.
Joel follows you slowly as you back towards the bed, kicking your heels off and tripping over the skirt of your dress. When your legs hit the plush mattress, his body leans into yours. Your lips ghost across his, your words pushing them apart one by one.
“This ain’t – part of the – agreement,” you murmur, the coarse hair of his beard scratching your chin. You pull apart his tie, loosening the knot.
“Changed my mind,” he replies, collapsing on top of you on the bed.
Your head rolls back when his lips suck into your neck. You wrestle with his belt, with the waist of his suit trousers. “No changin’ the deal, remember?”
“Tell me to stop.”
If you had any intention of answering him, your body overrides it. Words lassoed and dragged back down where they came from, your throat opening only to gasp when Joel’s teeth graze the flesh of your breast. His fingers tug on the straps of your dress, letting them fall from your shoulders until your chest sits exposed.
He drags his tongue along your skin, dipping between your tits while his hands massage them, fingers pinching your nipples. Your back lifts and his hands move beneath, following the curve of your spine to where your dress pools loose around your waist. He pushes down, slinking the smooth fabric from your body.
“You fuckin’…” He clicks his teeth, laughing behind them. Another flush of heat washes over your skin.
You giggle, bending your knees to cover the lace panties he knows all too fucking well. Joel stops you, pushes your legs back down with two heavy hands.
“Don’t get shy now, baby,” he murmurs, opening your body up again. “You were so happy about me seein’ ‘em a few weeks ago, no?”
“’s different,” you reply, tang of alcohol fueling your words, “now I just want you to take them off me.”
He cocks his head, drinking every word you’re handing over like it’s water from an oasis. “Such a dirty girl, ain’t you?”
You pull him closer by the collar and line your mouth against his, the tip of your tongue wetting the inside of his lips. “You got no fucking idea,” you whisper, whipping the shirt from his torso.
Joel growls, flipping you over and pulling you by the shoulders flush against his chest. You hook an arm around his neck, turn to grant him access to your lips. He kisses you like a starved animal, savoring every taste, teeth nipping at your tingling lips.
His hand curves around your hips, pushing beneath your underwear to cup your mound, middle finger pushing on the spongey hood of your clit. Your head falls limp against his collarbone, back arching as Joel holds you steady with an arm around your waist.
“’s alright, baby,” he coos, his tongue licking the shell of your ear. “I’m gonna take good care of ya. Gonna give you what you need, alright?”
A strangled moan unravels across your tongue, echoing into Joel’s mouth. Your hips begin to gyrate, meeting the rhythm of his hand, his finger massaging rough circles into your clit. He smirks, peeling the panties down your thighs.
“Attagirl,” he breathes, “you want it bad, huh? Gettin’ so worked up so fast. Here.”
He removes his hand from between your legs, ignoring your moan of protest and replacing it with two fingers on your bottom lip. “Open,” he instructs, and you obey like a fucking dog. He slips them in, thick and heavy, and waits for you to coat them with your wine-stained tongue.
Joel pushes down, forcing a muffled gag from your throat which lifts the corners of his mouth. He shakes his head lightly, whispering, “You got it, ‘s okay.”
A thread of saliva strings between his fingers and your lips when he lowers his hand again, trailing his fingers through your folds until he’s dancing along the seam of your cunt. You jolt forward; Joel hauls you back.
“Just fucking – do it,” you whimper, your walls clenching around nothing.
He holds his fingers together, curling and inserting them in a painfully slow motion. Your knees widen on the mattress, body sinking down by instinct to meet his fist, to feel his thick fingers and wide knuckles as deep as they’ll go.
You gasp when Joel begins hooking them inside you, nudging against your walls like your heartbeat against your clit. Your hand lowers, slipping beneath his loose waistband, beneath the elastic of his boxers and around his already solid cock.
Joel groans, fucking you harder on his hand. “Fuck, just like that, baby. You feel what you do to me?”
“Uhuh,” you reply, voice wanton and broken.
You squeeze him, your fist moving up and down, his warm skin following the movements of your tight grip. His tip is already soaked, precome staining his underwear, dribbling down your thumb.
Joel uses his free hand to shove his pants down, crumpling on the floor at his feet when they free his cock. You carve your mouth around his, the two of you exchanging breath and flicking your tongues together as you fuck one another’s hands, the room slowly filling with the hot, muggy smell of sex.
Joel’s the first to cave. With a jerk of his hips, he takes you by the wrist and frees himself from your clutches.
“You’re gonna make me come, darlin’,” he murmurs, pulling his fingers from your cunt.
“That’s kinda the point here,” you reply, teeth bumping into his in a grin.
Joel shakes his head, lifting his hand, glistening with your arousal. “Gotta feel this fucking pussy first.”
You smile, parting your lips for him for the second time, suckling on his fingers and licking them clean of your own salty slick. His cock draws sticky trails on the seam of your thigh.
“Yeah,” Joel breathes, eyes fixed on the place where you close around him, “that good, baby? You gonna let me taste you?”
You release his fingers and he pulls you in, tongue slipping against yours with a groan which vibrates against your jaw. When your lips part, you hold your mouth open, your tongue sat on your bottom lip.
Joel reacts instantly, collecting a bead of saliva in front of his teeth and letting it drop into your mouth. You moan and swallow it, a cocktail of beer and whiskey and slick. Joel watches as you lick your lips, the stained-pink coated in a thick, white shine.
“Alright,” he says, letting you fall forward onto the bed. He jacks himself a few times, spitting into his hand and using it to coat his cock.
“Want you to come in it,” you whine, wiggling your ass for him as he lines up at your slit. You can feel the arousal gathered on his tip, dripping down your cunt.
“Yeah, baby,” Joel growls, a smirk on his lips as he watches himself slowly disappear inside you. And then –
You both fall silent, mouths hanging wide open as you each feel the width of his cock and the tightness of your cunt. The way your body opens up to accommodate his size, the direct pain and ethereal pleasure of Joel pushing into you.
“Fuck,” he groans, your pussy drawing him in with a sweet, wet sound. “Been thinkin’ about this all fuckin’ day, baby. So damn gorgeous in that dress.”
You slowly move your hips back to meet him at the base of his cock; dark, trimmed hair bristling against your lips. Joel’s hands lock around your waist, holding you steady with his entirety buried inside, letting you adjust to him.
He’s so fucking big, so wide and deep that your breath tears rugged from your lungs, barreling up your windpipe. Your walls squeeze tight as he pulls out like your body refuses to let him go, like your cells understand better than you do that you were made for this – made for him. Like the only place in the world that he belongs, is somewhere deep inside you.
So big that it hurts, each time he fills you up and stretches you wide open. The pain an eye-rolling, lung-closing, limb-shaking sensation.
Your elbows give, falling chest-first onto the mattress while Joel fucks you hard, his hands gripping your hips. Your cheek and breasts flat against the sheets, your back arched. He slams into you, edging you closer and closer with each meeting of his warm skin against yours, each sopping slap of come and saliva.
The mattress shifts above your head, two valleys where his palms push down heavily, then the weight of his body at the back of your thighs. He towers over you, hips hammering so hard that you’re forced to hook your fingers around his wrists just to stay on the same fucking planet.
“Gonna – fuckin’ – come – baby,” he spits, his jaw locked tight. “You want it in this little pussy? You think she can take it all?”
“Mhm,” you whimper, the edges of your words rounded by the silk sheets. “Joel, I – fuck –”
“Yeah, she can,” he agrees, playing with the hair spilling across your shoulders and taking it in a fistful.
The hazy drunken blur begins to turn over in favor of something sharper, something electric pulsing through your veins. Every part of your body alive, everything rising to meet the same high, the same release. You cling onto him, body beginning to melt beneath his.
Joel’s lips press between your shoulder blades. “Don’t fight it, baby, let go. I got you.”
You moan his name in one last pathetic attempt before the world whitens. You clench around him as a deafening orgasm shocks through your body, curling your back and forcing your nails deep into Joel’s wrists.
“Fuck, baby, fuck me,” Joel gasps. He slams into you one final time before you feel the staggered pump of his come flooding between your walls. “Ahh,” he groans, pushing apart your ass cheeks to watch the trickle seep from your cunt. “Good fucking girl. Take it, baby. That’s my girl.”
He turns you over onto your back and you wrap your arms around his shoulders, pulling him against your body as he thrusts into you again, tenderly pushing his spend deeper inside. It draws a strained moan from your throat.
“’s alright,” he coos, hips slowing against yours, “just feel it, baby. You feel how deep I am?”
“Uhuh,” you cry, nails digging into his skin, damp with sweat.
“So fuckin’ full of me,” he says, more to himself, before collapsing alongside you, holding your thigh on his hip, his tip still sheathed inside you.
You lie like that for a while, listening to the distant hum of music from downstairs, the party still raving in the belly of the hotel while you two lay in content bliss somewhere in its ribcage. Tracing one another’s features, learning the lines on Joel’s face, the flecks of gray in his eyebrows – all the parts you’re never close nor brave enough to get to know.
His right hand massages your plush waist, his left arm a pillow to rest your heavy, dizzy, drunk head on.
“I wanna do it again,” you whisper, the words sneaking out between heavy breaths.
Joel nods. His bottom lip sticks with sweat to yours. His hips push a little neater into you. “I wanna do it again, too.”
“I wanna do it all night.”
He hasn’t stopped nodding. He shrugs, tightens his grip around your shoulders, and tilts his head. “Then let’s do it all fucking night,” he says, and his lips slam back into yours.
The morning after the wedding, Joel drives you home. The truck soars down the highway, the two of you an uncomfortable distance apart. The same sobering distance you’ve kept all morning – the unreal aftermath of sex.
The rolling waves of bedsheets between your bodies; the sun sifting her long fingers through his hair as she peered through the curtains. The way you’d silently pushed yourself from the mattress, fragmenting your movements and allowing the spring to dip a fraction at a time so not to wake him. The spongey feel of the hotel carpet under the balls of your feet as you’d tottered to the bathroom. The sharp shot of the lock sliding into place, echoing like a bullet.
He waited until you finished showering to get ready himself. Sat on the edge of the bed patiently and watched your shadow beneath the door, the to-and-fro of your silhouette breaking the sliver of golden light as you dressed your sticky body. When you pulled on the metal lock again, he was sat on the edge of the bed with his elbows on his knees, pinching the bridge of his nose. His bare shoulders were curved, and tanned. You blinked twice to store the image and turned away as he stood.
He says he feels hungover. You say you do, too. It’s the closest you come to talking about it. You hop out of the truck in his drive, your tote bag hooked on your shoulder. The canvas gnawing at the silk inside. Joel tells you he’ll see his end of the deal through in a couple weeks.
“Real busy with work,” he mutters apologetically, his wrists still balancing on the steering wheel.
“That’s good,” you tell him, nodding. “I ain’t in any rush. I know where you live, so.”
A relieved laugh pushes from his lips. “I will get to it,” he assures you.
You shrug casually. “Whenever, Joel.”
You don’t talk for a few days. A few days bleeds into three weeks. You find yourself stood by his front tires, throwing his newspaper onto the porch and scampering when it lands. The noise like a bomb dropping.
Slowly, as the month draws on, you become braver and braver – daring closer and closer to his front door, until you’re back to marching up the steps like you own the place, depositing the roll on his doormat. Rubbing your thumbs against your fingers to feel the ink like satin.
The door cracks open as you make your way back down his steps one bright morning.
“Hey, kid,” Joel murmurs, reaching down for the paper with a groan.
“Hey.”
“You doin’ okay?” he asks, leaning his forearm against the door.
Your head tilts back and forth, your hand lifting to shield your eyes from the sun. “Think I ate som’ bad, maybe. Weird stomach this mornin’.”
Joel’s chin angles. “Hope it ain’t contagious. Was thinkin’ I could get that closet started for you, maybe tomorrow?”
The offer takes you off guard. You buffer for a few seconds before answering, “Sure. Sure, just, uh – just come over whenever, I guess.”
“Nine work for you?”
You nod. “Nine’s good. See ya then.”
It’s something like nine when you find out.
You wake feeling groggy. Tired, sluggish. A heavy ache pulling on your breasts as you rise from bed, tender and swollen. You stand in the bathroom, milky morning light filtering in through the doorway, and your stomach lurches. Waves of nausea deep in your belly, rocking back and forth, swirling and spiraling.
You’ve a box under your sink. It makes sense. Before Joel was some date from Hinge, who fucked you against the wall of his living room and who snored so loud that you left before the sun came up. Negative. Like always.
But it never hurts to be sure.
The pack tears like it’s liquid in your hands. Peels back to reveal the plastic white test, the bubblegum pink cap – like it’s something fun and sweet to place the direction of your future into this little device. A clinical compass needle.
Three to five minutes. You set it down on the counter and drag yourself back through to your room, lifting your bedsheets, tucking them under the mattress, heaving your pillows back into place against the headboard. An uncomfortable heat boiling under the surface of your skin, a prickle of sweat clinging to the nape of your neck.
A sickly taste harboring on your tongue, you pad back to the bathroom and swipe the test up. Your eyes scan past the result window to the counter as you reach for your toothbrush – and then snap abruptly back to the tiny oval. Your outstretched hand freezes in midair. There’s no fucking w–
Your arm swings back to reach for the light cord. The bulb hesitates – flickers, like it’s unsure whether to reveal the truth to you. It knows something you don’t. It’s seen something it doesn’t want to show you. You stare at the pregnancy test.
Two little pink lines stare back. And Joel knocks at your door.
#forgive me for it not being clm or sof#they're coming very soon i promise#this was too fun an idea not to chase#i have the attention span of my labrador retrievers (nil)#joel miller#joel miller fic#joel miller smut#the last of us#tlou#macfrog#neighbor!joel miller#neighbor!joel#babydaddy!joel miller
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heyyyy ryyyyy <333
since ur requests are open i thought id go ahead and ask if you're mayhaps open to anything for batmom? i don't have a completely solid idea but maybe smn like batmom has been getting threats or maybe hate or smn from somebody and everyone's reactions and how they get hella protective?
obv no pressure and you definitely do not have to write this
hope you have a great day bb
Heyyyyy, so this grew hands and wrote itself, I hope you enjoy it. It did end up with a lot of backstory.
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5.3k words
You knew this would happen. Once your relationship with Bruce got out there would be an influx of love and hate. You also knew that everyone else knew that as well. It was common knowledge than anyone around a celebrity of sorts would experience that.
Of course you did the normal things, turned off most notifications and only looked through areas online you knew would mostly be safe. You blocked tags and and only followed people you knew or ones who didn’t post about drama.
When you did stumble onto hate, you moved on. If someone kept sending you nasty messages you blocked them, when they made other accounts to keep sending the same things, you changed your settings so only those you followed could message you.
It wasn’t something you wanted to deal with but it was something you could handle. Something you started mentally preparing yourself for when Bruce’s attention on you lasted more than 4 dates, even more so when you caught yourself daydreaming about him.
You were not going to let random bitter people on the internet destroy your happiness like they did their own. Your family however, wanted to destroy what was left of your haters' happiness. Something you were trying to curb, but trying to tell a family of vigilantes who considered you the best mom in existence not to destroy your haters was like talking to a brick wall. Over the years, you had gotten used to it. It barely even registered anymore. But there had been a recent influx of the hate and while it didn’t bother you, it bothered the rest of your family. None of them could stand people talking bad about their mom.
While you hadn’t been there while the older ones were young, the second you had introduced yourself to them, you had taken a very important role in their lives. None of them realizing it at first. All of them had gotten used to the random women Bruce brought home that it took a little while for them to realize how important you were.
Dick wasn’t sure at first. Thinking you were just another girlfriend that wouldn’t last long. So he didn’t really interact with you much. Ignoring your existence when it wasn’t too rude, or at least obviously rude. Until one night when he was staying at the manor and had a nightmare about his parents death.
Bruce had an open bed policy. As long as there was still room for him, his bed was open. A policy he had started when Dick had gotten old enough he was worried he wouldn’t be allowed to go when he had a nightmare. Bruce had always reminded all his kids, that nightmares don’t go away just because you’re older and that needing comfort wasn’t something they would outgrow.
The thing was, you were there. Girlfriends didn’t mind when children did it but they never liked it when his adult kids did it. The shaking in his hands and the way he saw them fall in the darkness of every blink told him the only way he was getting any sleep was with someone.
Hopefully he could just slip into Bruce’s side and leave before you woke up. That was the plan until he found Damian on Bruce’s side and you had been pulled closer to Bruce taking up what was left. You moved a little and Dick took that as his sign to deal with it himself until he heard you whisper his name. He hummed so you knew it was him and not some random stranger standing over Bruce’s side of the bed.
“Nightmare?”
“Yeah.”
“Come on.” You lifted the blanket next to you, “Bruce told me you guys come here when you have nightmares. There's plenty of room over here for you.” Dick hesitated for a second before giving in. He needed sleep anyway. You weren’t when you said there was plenty of room, Dick had most of your half of the bed. Once he had settled on his side, facing away from you, he felt you pull the blanket over his shoulders.
“Night Dick, sleep well.” For some reason, that was what did it. Once the tears started they didn’t stop. Silent sobs made him shudder and he felt one of your hands gently rubbing his back. “Oh Dick.” There was no pity in your tone and he found himself rolling over and curling into you. Your chin resting on his head while you rubbed his back.
The next day, he followed you around like a puppy. Your side of the bed became his favorite when he had nightmares and it wasn’t long before he turned to you for general comfort over anything.
Jason met you at his grave. Neither of you exchanged words, but he caught something in your gaze he didn’t quite understand. He also wasn’t sure why you were at his grave either, he didn’t know you when he was younger.
When he saw the Gotham News post about Bruce and Your 2nd anniversary, it brought more questions than answers. Why were you at his grave alone? Let alone longer than a few seconds. It was an odd way to gain more of Bruce’s affections.
Every Tuesday you would be there, leaving flowers and talking softly to the stone. Every time you left, you would smile and nod, the look in your eyes he couldn’t figure out was still there. Every time he would strain to heat what you were saying and only be able yo a few words here and there.
6 months into it, the routine changed. You brought a blanket and Basket with your usual flowers. You did what you normally did with the flowers but instead of talking to the stone you waved him over. When he didn’t move, you stopped what you were doing and looked at him.
“Jason Todd, I have been keeping your secret for 6 months. Helping me spread this blanket and having lunch won’t change it.” He stared at you while you waited expectantly. Eventually when he could get himself to move, he came over and helped. He sat down where you motioned for him too, all while trying to figure out how you knew.
“Bruce mentioned this used to be your favorite when you were younger so I asked Alfred to teach me how to make it. I hope it's up to your standards.” He looked at the plate of food you handed him. It was almost overflowing with food, all of which reminded him of the good times back at the manor before he died. “Alfred also sent your favorite cookies when he heard I would be eating at your grave.” The bag of cookies was placed next to the basket, within easy reach.
“Why?” Was all Jason managed to choke out around the lump in his throat.
“I decided early on in life, no matter who I was with, I would love their family as my own. My grandfather hated my grandmothers side and it caused a lot of pain in all the generations. I decided I would never do that to another family.” Jason found himself back in control enough to start eating.
“So when I started dating Bruce and he told me about you, I decided to treat you like you were my own. Even though I had never met you and you were dead. Most of what that meant was keeping your grave clean and always making sure there were fresh flowers. While I did that, I would tell you everything that was going on.”
“How did you know it was me?”
“Your eyes, they may be a different color but they looked too similar. So I did a little digging and found pictures of your biological pictures to place the face shape it matched. I think however you look more like Bruce then either of them.”
“Are you going to tell them?”
“As much as I would love to. It’s your choice. You’ve been keeping this to yourself for a reason. If I can help you get to a place to tell them, I would love to. But I won’t say a word until you're ready. However, I would like to keep having lunch with you.”
A year later, Jason reintroduced himself to the rest of the family a lot calmer than originally planned and was glued to your side anytime he felt overwhelmed that night. Every Tuesday after that, lunch was scheduled.
Tim was nervous when it came to you. He was still living in the manor so he saw you more than the older two. You always seemed nice and respected his privacy but Bruce was always with you so you obviously would.
It was when he wasn’t around that worried Tim. Bruce attracted golddiggers and they were always mean when Bruce wasn’t there. When you were given a copy of the key, Time braced himself.
Of course he knew that if he told Bruce anything that happened like that, Bruce would break it off. He had always told them that they came first. But he also knew that Bruce liked you a lot. All the other ones Bruce liked a lot that turned out to be horrible, he broked it off. Tim had seen how it had made him upset and he really hated doing that to him. Maybe he could deal with it for once.
So when Bruce left for a business trip, Tim was Expecting the worst. What he didn’t expect was for you to knock on his door and ask if you could join him. When he agreed and stepped back so you could come in. He expected you to go to his bed or his desk chair not, the oversized bean bag on the floor.
“I have a question for you but you can’t tell Bruce yet.” Here it comes. “What would a funny way to tell him I know he’s Batman?” Tim wasn’t expecting that one. “I was thinking a lot of batpuns but his paranoia is too bad for that.”
“How did you figure it out?” You walked him through your process and didn’t say anything as he wrote parts of it down. Once you finished explaining the process for Bruce, you explained any way it was modified in figuring out their identities.
“Who do you think I am?”
“Red Robin.” Tim found himself getting excited.
“You know those notes you leave him in his office?” You nodded. “You should leave those in the Batcave.” You considered it but your thinking was interrupted but Tim shouting.
“No! One night when we’re all in the cave, you could bring some snacks!”
“You just want snacks when he’s lecturing you don’t you?”
“Maybe..”
“Alright, but you have to tell the others so they can tell me what snack they want.”
So Tim slowly and carefully went through all his siblings, letting them know you figured it out, Bruce didn’t know, and what the plan is. Every time he relayed a snack to you he’d watch how carefully you’d write it out to make sure you had it correct or look up recipes if you couldn’t find it in stores.
Two weeks later, Tim was the one who sent the signal in the middle of a lecture everyone was receiving and he got a front row seat to see Bruce’s face when you walked in and handed out snacks before giving him a kiss and telling him to be nice and leaving.
Any other worries were left in the dust when you helped him win the nerf war for the best seat in the home theater. He thoroughly enjoyed his spot next to you while Bruce swore revenge from the other side of the room.
Damian treated you politely but that was it. His mother was still alive and he didn’t want another one, one was more than enough. Not only that, but you were weird.
One time when you were over, you found one of his report cards. Immediately you were praising him. He didn’t understand why, he had basically failed one of his classes with an A-. You should be disappointed like his mother would be, not hanging it up on the fridge and telling people not to touch it. Definitely not taking him out for ice cream and calling him so smart. He definitely shouldn’t be feeling any pride when he walked past it, but he still was.
When he was practicing his violin and Messed up, you were supposed to tell him to stop failing, that he should be better. Not smiling at him and telling him he’s making good progress. You should be telling him that he should have memorized that piece in a day. He shouldn’t be feeling any pride when he finally does memorize it, it took him 4 days to learn it.
When he was struggling to learn a language, you were supposed to tell him to work harder. He could do better, after all, he already knew so many. Instead you just smiled and recommended a break to refresh his mind.
When he snapped at you in Arabic, he expected you to be upset since you didn’t know what he said and it was obviously not something nice. Instead you set the rule that if he was going to use Arabic to speak to you when upset, that he had to teach it to you and if what he said wasn’t something you had learned yet, he had to tell you in english. When he told you what it meant, you didn’t even get upset. He definitely shouldn’t be as excited as he was when you actually started learning.
So many more little things piled up, leaving Damian confused. The differences between how you and his mother treated him was so big he didn’t know how to process it, he liked you and all the little things made him happy in a way he hadn’t really felt. But he still loved his mom, When he had enough of it, he asked you to stop. He still wanted to love his mom. Once again, you did something you weren’t supposed to.
“Oh Damian, I’m not trying to replace your mom nor am I trying to make you feel like you can’t love her or she doesn’t love you. Your mom and I show our love in different ways and its ok for you to love or like both of us. You mother loves you and she will always be allowed in your life if thats what you want.” You weren’t supposed to do that, but Damian was really glad you did.
Barbara wasn’t sure how you would react to her. She wasn’t just Bruce’s kid. She had a loving family she went back to every night. Most people weren’t really a fan of that, one of Bruce’s past girlfriends had some strong and hurtful things to say about it.
When you took her for a day out, she found herself warming up to you but still waiting for the other shoe to drop. One of the new places you had planned to go, didn’t have wheelchair access. Like all the other girlfriends who had done this, she expected you to be annoyed that your plans had to change or you would just leave her outside while you shopped.
You didn’t seem to notice her hesitation, just looking at what was next on your list and starting the trip there. When Barbara stared a little longer at a new movie that was in theaters, tickets and snacks were bought and you listed to all the lore she told you about before it started.
While it had been a nice day, Barbara wasn’t convinced. One day was easy to fake. Sure she had lots of fun, but Barbara was used to fakes when it came to Bruce’s girlfriends. Of course she wasn’t complaining about you being nice, she just wasn’t sure how long it would last.
“Did you hear about that boutique?” She looked up from her food to look at her dad. “That new one that you tried to go to with Bruce’s girlfriend? Well there was a report that it didn’t meet the Americans with Disabilities act and the boutique is in trouble. People are speculating they’ll have to close down.”
Later that night, Barbara looked into it. They were in trouble, pretty big trouble from the looks of it. Towards the end of the article she found the name of the person who reported it, she wasn’t sure who she was expecting. Not you for sure but the Name Y/n L/n took her by surprise and filled her chest with feelings she couldn’t describe.
The boutique ended up closing but a new one opened. Once it was open, you were the first to ask her to go. That weird feeling came back when she wheeled herself up the ramp and through the door you held open for her. Later that night, in the privacy of her room. She decided she liked you.
Steph seemed like she liked you, she acted like she liked you, she didn’t really like you. Sure you were nice, Bruce loved you, the others were warming up to you, but she wasn’t sure how to feel about you. So she stuck with not actually liking you but pretending to.
So when she was around you, it was all smiles and jokes. She wasn’t a big fan of it all but she did it because she knew you were important to Bruce and that was enough of a reason for her. She knew Bruce and the others could see through the act but as long as you couldn’t, that was enough.
When Bruce announced he had to leave for a business trip right before she could hand him the parents visit for one of her AP classes, something the new teacher liked doing. She tucked the paper away. When Tim gave her a questioning look, she shook her head and later swore him to silence.
Every time she heard someone mention their parents were going, she felt a pang of jealousy in her chest. Every time Tim mentioned bringing it up to you, she swore him into silence again. It wouldn’t be the first time no one showed up for her. She was however thankful you wouldn’t be at the manor as much so she didn’t have to pretend to like you.
When the day arrived, Steph was not having a good day. School dragged on slowly. Slower than normal. When school finally ended, she had to sit in the classroom and watch everyone else that was in her class leave and the parents of her classmates show up while no one was there or coming for her.
Someone sat in the seat next to her, she expected another family member of one of her classmates. Definitely not you. She couldn’t return your smile, too unsure of how you found out, the fact you actually showed up, and how she felt about you being there. You leaned a little closer so that the others in the room wouldn’t easily overhear.
“I know I’m not your parent and someone you just pretend to like so if you want me to leave I will. But I figured someone was better then no one. Oh, and Tim wanted me to tell you he didn’t spill. Your teacher called the manor because no one had RSVPed for you and I answered it.”
That night, as Steph showed off all her hard work to you, the charade fell. She actually enjoyed her time with you and the boost of pride as you oohed and ahhed over all her projects and listened to her explain all the little details. That night, Steph realized, she didn’t need to keep pretending. She liked you, until she found out you didn’t like her favorite show but a nerf war solved that.
Cass could tell you were different then the other girlfriends, your body language as you interacted with all of them showed it. However that didn’t mean she knew how to interact with you.
She had learned that she was fairly hard for new people to interact with. She also knew she had trouble interacting with people she wasn’t fighting. So it wasn’t a surprise when it started rocky.
What was a surprise, was when you found out she was still having trouble reading and writing, you stepped in to help. Well, that wasn’t the surprising part, a lot of girlfriends did that. The surprising part was the amount of patience you had when it was only the two of you.
When one method didn’t help, you tried another. Never once did you snap at her or call her a name. Everytime you got frustrated you would stop and look at her, say something along the lines of “If I had as much trouble with this as you do, I wouldn’t want to keep trying. You're doing absolutely amazing! I’ll keep looking for other ideas, but for now, lets take a break and get a treat.”
Cass wasn’t sure why that always made her feel better, but it did. Every treat you brought was something you made just for the tutoring sessions and it always reminded her of what Alfred had told her once. “Something made with love for you will always taste better.”
And when a method that made it a little easier to learn was found, Cass found herself smiling along with your cheers. Bad days where she couldn’t seem to make any progress were always met with the same excitement, cheers, patience, and treats that all the others were.
Cass still wasn’t sure of what to think of you exactly, but she knew she liked you and that you cared about her.
So when Tim saw the new rise in hate, a sibling meeting was called. They all went through each site, blood boiling as they saw what people were saying about their new parent. Plans were made, declarations of war were ready, and anger fueled all of them. Bruce could tell something was going on, but he wasn’t sure what it was and as long as it didn’t get out of had, he wasn’t sure if he had the energy to deal with it.
War was declared in an interview by Steph. The lady was asking questions when the topic switched to Bruce, then you. The reporter was clearly trying to subtly find some dirt on you and Steph was not going to stand for it.
“Oh yeah! Y/n! She’s the best!” She put on her best press face. Trying to hide her anger over the hidden intent. She didn’t have to lie or act when talking about you but the change in the lady’s face going to disappointment when she didn’t get anything she wanted was making her look very punchable.
“She’s always showing up for us and making sure we’re doing ok. If Y/n and Bruce were to break up, I think most of us would go with Y/n.” The way the lady kept trying to get anything really got on her nerves and Steph decided she needed to get out of there before she started using the lady’s face for target practice. You wouldn’t like that.
Cass was the first one to resort to violence. They had asked a thinly veiled question, basically asking if you were a golddigger. So she punched him in the nose and leaned down to flip the camera off. She hated interviews already but that made it so much worse. She hoped you wouldn’t be too upset with her punching the guy though.
Jason, surprisingly enough. Did not get violent… physically. He did however curse one out and threaten him when the reporter implied you were forcing them to say nice things. When the reporter kept pressing Jason broke his mic and told him if he ever heard him talking bad about you again, a broken mic would be the last of his worries. Jason knew you would be disappointed but he had held back, he didn’t shoot the guy like he wanted.
Tim threw his coffee at one reporter because he heard them say you were nothing but a regular person who didn’t deserve any attention. He then took over her segment, threatening the company to air it or he would make sure they went bankrupt. Once he finished his threats, anything he said was praising you name. Telling everyone how amazing you were and how much they all loved you.
Barbara made it a point to bring up everything you did for the community when they tried to throw some shade at you in an interview. She had documents to prove it and hacked their systems to add them into the interview so they couldn’t claim it was fake. She also made sure to run over his foot when she left.
Dick punched a reporter when they tried to ask him what you were really like behind closed doors. He told them the truth, that you were just as good, kind, patient, and loving behind closed doors as you were out in public. He didn’t throw a punch until the reporter disregarded that as asked again because she couldn’t be that good. Dick knew a lecture would be coming once you saw, but he would rather sit through a lecture then let anyone tarnish your name.
Damian spent 10 minutes cursing and threatening a reporter in Arabic when they asked him if you had ever hurt him. When he was done, he told them in english, that if he ever got asked that question again, he would impale them. He knew you were going to make him sit down and translate everything and the general response you would give but he didn’t care, no one speaks bad about either of his mothers.
Bruce figured out what was going on after Steph’s interview. He saw the ones where they assaulted or threatened the reporters and made sure his lawyers were on standby to keep the kids out of trouble. After all, he had seen more than they had.
He had watched as you tried to connect with Dick early on, how you worked hard to try and get somewhere. He had woken up before you when Dick had come in that night and heard how you handled it. He had woken up the next morning to find you holding Dick close, like you were trying to protect him from the nightmares. He had seen how you never turned Dick down when he wanted comfort, no matter how serious or silly the matter, and he had heard your excitement when you told him Dick liked you.
Bruce had seen the way you never missed a visit to Jason’s grave, on a visit of his own, he saw how much care you showed the stone marking it as his lost son. While he hadn’t been sure why it was alway the same time on Tuesday, he didn;t mention it. He felt the way you would sob in his arms after each visit, a year after the tradition started, you always said you had promised not to tell and he watched as you kept that promise even if it tore you to pieces. Once the shock and tears wore off for a little bit, he could see the trust that Jason had in you.
He heard the way you questioned if you should have a key to the manor, you didn’t want to make Tim uncomfortable in his own home, or how you questioned if you should visit while he was gone. Not wanting to stress Tim out when there was no reason too. He saw the way you and Tim grinned at each other when you brought snacks down for all the kids he was currently lecturing. He head the excitement in your voice as you told him about the tour Tim had given you of the Batcave and the shared laughter as you and Tim worked together to win the nerf war.
Bruce saw how you worked to give Damian the affection he didn’t think he needed. He felt you crying in his arms upset over the fact Damian thought you would be angry because he made a mistake or struggled in a class. He heard you practicing your Arabic as you got ready for bed and he watched as you stress paced over whether or not you said the right thing to him about his mother.
He saw how angry you had been when you came back from your day out with Barbara. He had heard your call with your lawyer as you tried to figure out what to do. He saw you going through the laws and making a list to make sure your lawyer didn’t miss any. He heard about the movie you didn’t particularly care about and the lore you remembered in case of another because you wanted Barbara to have someone she could tell all of her favorite things too.
Bruce saw the pictures you had taken from the school night. He heard all the details from you as you praised Steph’s work. He saw the way Steph stopped acting around you and the silly arguments the two of you would get into for fun. He heard the way you would listen to her as she verbally worked out her problems. He saw the way Steph looked for you in a crowd, the way she knew you were there but not where you stood exactly, the thought of you not being there never crossed her.
He saw the way you stayed up late, researching different ways to teach reading and writing. He heard the patience and kindness and you worked with Cass. He saw the way you always made a treat just for Cass to have after each lesson because you wanted to reward her hard work. He heard the way you cried for Cass when she had a bad day and got frustrated with herself because you knew she was smart and you wanted her to see it too. He heard your celebrations when Cass made any progress, no matter the size.
Bruce heard, saw, and felt the way you worked hard to have a relationship with his kids. How you had mourned for their losses, celebrated their wins, and felt their pain. He saw the way his kids blossomed under your care, growing to be better and more confident in themselves. The way you cared for them as if they were your own flesh and blood. So when he was asked about his kids behavior, he said as much.
“Y/n has worked hard to be accepted by them. She’s given so much of her time, effort, patience, and love and never wanted anything in return. She always shows up for them, no matter what the occasion is, big or small, it doesn’t matter. If they want her there, she’ll be there. Everytime they need or want her, she’s there. She never judges them and treats them as if they were her own blood. Of course their upset and lashing out, people are insulting the woman who has cared for them more then most of their biological mothers.”
Later, a clip of you scolding Bruce and all the kids went viral. While you were scolding them over their behavior and making the kids who had reacted with violence or threats write apology letters because asking mean questions does not make it right to respond badly especially when its someone just trying to start drama. Everyone one noticed that there was no actual bite to your tone and no anger when they all refused to stop acting like that. In fact, there was a small soft smile on your face as you shook your head at your family.
#dc#jason todd#dick grayson#tim drake#fem reader#batman x reader#bruce wayne x reader#Damian wayne#cassandra cain#stephanie brown#barbara gordon#batfamily x reader#batmom reader#batmom#request#cipheress-to-k-pop
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go to bed - bucky barnes x reader
Plot: Bucky Barnes is a pain in Y/N's ass...until she gets sick.
Pairing: Hinted Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader
Warnings: Reader being sick and exhausted, and Bucky being annoying. But as always, if I miss any triggers, please let me know!
Notes: This is short (just under 550 words), and complete self gratification because I woke up yesterday full of the cold and I feel pretty crappy. So I need Bucky Barnes in my life rn, lmao.
Not beta'd, so any mistakes are my own.
Bucky sits on his phone in the Avengers kitchen, mindlessly scrolling through social media. The room is quiet, just how he likes it. That is, however, until Y/N shuffles into the room, a blanket wrapped around her shivering form. She groans as she walks, every part of her body aching. The sooner this damn cold goes away, the better.
“Woah, you look like shit.” Bucky says, looking up at her from his phone, his blue eyes narrowing. Y/N rolls her eyes. This is the last thing she needs right now - Bucky’s annoying ass making her feel worse. She doesn't know what she did to make Bucky tease her so much, but she definitely isn’t sticking around to find out, or listen to his teasing.
“Gee, thanks.”
“No.” Bucky places his phone in his pocket, walking over to her. He studies her, her croaky voice, her runny nose, the clear lack of sleep, and her pyjamas and slippers. “I mean it. You really look like shit. Are you sick?”
“No, I just decided to dress like a-a-achoo!” Y/N sneezes, answering Bucky’s question right away.
“Go to bed.” He orders.
“You’re not the boss of me.” Y/N murmurs. She pours herself a glass of water, sipping it in the hopes it alleviates the pain in her throat. “I have stuff to do, anyway.”
“I’m not asking you. You look exhausted, you need sleep.” He replies, and before Y/N argues back again, she notices a look of genuine concern in his eyes. For once, he’s not being a tough guy… he actually cares about her. And despite how much of a pain in her ass Bucky Barnes is… Y/N is glad to have someone looking out for her right now. “Come on.” Bucky prompts, wrapping an arm around her and leading her towards her bedroom. Whether it’s to protect her or simply hold her aching body up, she isn’t sure. But she does know that being so close to Bucky and feeling the warmth radiating off his body is making her feel a lot better already. “Go back to bed. I’ll tell you what you miss in the meetings.”
“Probably won't be much. Just Tony showing off.” She jokes, and Bucky laughs, a sound which makes her stomach flutter, and her legs turn into jelly. And this time, she’s sure it’s not because she’s sick. It’s because Bucky caring for her, and her being important to him feels…wonderful.
Bucky leads her to her room, helping her into bed and wrapping a blanket around her. “Do you need some more water? Tea? I’ll be right outside if you need me.” He offers, and Y/N chuckles, shaking her head.
“No, I think I’m okay.” She yawns. “I might try to get some sleep.” Bucky smiles, nodding. He turns, heading back to her door. “Bucky, wait.”
“Yeah?”
“Why are you being so nice to me?” She asks. “I thought you didn’t like me.” Bucky chuckles, shaking his head.
“Of course I like you.” He whispers, sitting on the edge of her bed. “I’m just an asshole.”
“You are.” She murmurs, her exhaustion catching up to her. Bucky chuckles, looking down at her as she starts to drift off. Once she's asleep, Bucky gazes down at her, smiling softly.
“I like you a lot, actually.” He whispers. “More than you’ll ever know.”
~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~
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#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes oneshot#bucky barnes fic#bucky x female reader#bucky x y/n#bucky x you#bucky x reader#marvel oneshot#marvel fanfic#marvel fanfiction#bucky oneshot#oneshot#fanfiction#fanfic#fic
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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
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|| MasterList || Joel Miller MasterList ||
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 can’t hear what they’re saying but Joel looks even more pissed off than normal, even for Joel.
“What?” Joel shakes his head in annoyance, knowing he’s being squeezed for cards. He doesn’t get charged that much for the entire hydro stash he gets from his seller. “No, no fucking battery is worth that much and you know it.” He growls, narrowing his eyes at the untrustworthy weasel in front of him.
Robert’s eyes slide nervously around and he gives a small shrug, uncomfortable being around Joel and preferring to deal with Tess. “What can I say? Times are hard. It’s getting harder to come by these things.” His greedy eyes shift over to where you are looking out at the street. “Although….I’m 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.” He chuckles, referring to Tess’s mocking nickname for you. ‘Joel’s little puppy dog.’
Joel stares at the other man for a few seconds, just processing what he said, until it finally sinks in. “What the fuck did you just ask for?” He growls, low and quiet so you don’t hear.
“You heard me, Miller. A night with your little lapdog over there. She’s 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?” Robert guesses, crossing his arms with a cocky smirk, “or do they take turns sucking your dick? Mmm if you guarantee me a blowjob, I’ll even throw in some extras.”
You tense slightly, shifting forward from your place leaning against the way. Eyes watching the way that Joel’s 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 that’s what you’re doing. “Joel?” You call out, getting his attention as he turns his head towards you. You’re 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 can’t 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. “No. She’s not available.” He finally says, not wanting to force you into something like that. He might be an evil bastard but he’s not a monster. “She’s not an option.” He decides, “you get more ration cards when we meet for me to collect it.”
“Come on man.” Robert shakes his head and his eyes slide past Joel to leer at you. “It’s just a fucking blowjob. I’ll tell you what?” He huffs, smirking and looking back at Joel. “Let me fuck her, both holes, have her suck my cock and I’ll give you the battery for free. Hell of a deal, right? I’ll even let you watch if you want to.”
Joel can’t help but reach up to squeeze the asshole’s throat. His anger makes him growl as he chokes the prick who dared to violate you like that. “You 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? I’ll even let her watch me kill you.” Joel sasses, tilting his head as he watches his eyes practically bulge.
“Shit!” You leap forward but Joel just turns his head.
“Stay there!” 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.
“No, no, it-it’s good!” 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.
“Let’s go.” He demands, his scowl even deeper than normal as you scramble to catch up with his long legged strides. You weren’t short but he’s speed walking.
“What the fuck just happened?” You demand, wanting to know what the fuck is going on.
“Don’t worry about it.” Joel growls, body still vibrating with anger. He hates that you were a bargaining chip in this new world. Twenty years ago, it would’ve been illegal but anything goes in this new era, even the things the QZ deems illegal are turned a blind eye to.
“Did you get the car battery?” You ask and Joel doesn’t look at you, knowing he’s barely holding on to the thread of decency he has when it comes to you.
“No.” He says without further explanation, “he’s got to locate it.”
“Okay.” You think there is more to it, but he obviously doesn’t 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. “So what do we do now?” You ask, unsure if he had other things to take care of.
“We keep low. You seen Tess? I ain’t seen her for a couple of days. Startin’ to get worried.” He frowns, guiding you down the alleyway that takes you back to his building. “I haven’t seen her.”
You mimic his frown, both wondering where Tess is and hating that he’s so worried about her. It’s 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 don’t hate Tess. She is capable of a lot in this world and you know she keeps Joel grounded, something you seem unable to do.
“Let’s head to mine and then we will try to track her down.” 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. It’s 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. It’s hard being in love with a man who doesn’t love you, doesn’t even look at you like a woman, but you are loyal to him. He claims he’s not a good man, and that’s true at times, but he’s good to you. “We’ll find her. I’m sure she’ll be in your arms tonight.” 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 that’s all that matters to him. He rolls his eyes and strides a little faster to get to his room.
When he opens the door, Tess is sitting there with her face bruised and swollen and he’s ready to fucking kill whoever did that to her.
“Jesus.” You huff, eyes wide at her injuries. It’s 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 didn’t break your heart. “What the fuck happened to you?” You ask finally as he’s 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 doesn’t 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 Joel’s hand away as she explains that she was held hostage by a couple of Robert’s goons. Joel hisses in annoyance, knowing he should’ve 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. “Since she’s home, I guess I better do the same.” You want Joel to tell you to stay, but you know he won’t. 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. “See you later.” 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. “Tess…” He murmurs, shaking his head.
“What? She’s like a damn puppy dog hanging around you all the time.”
Joel snorts, “what does that make you?”
Tess frowns for a moment before she leans forward. “You know what I am to you.” 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. “Joel-“ She pauses, deciding against asking a question she doesn’t want to know the answer to, or at least have it confirmed. Instead she decides to change tactics. “We need to go find Robert and our battery.”
Joel nods, “we do. I’ll go find her and then we can get ahead. Get your shit together.” 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 is…Tess is a comfort to him, the woman who has seen him at his worst and still wants him.
You are innocent really, still able to fight but you haven’t seen that side of him. He doesn’t 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 he’d bitch about, like money or working late, are trivial compared to the issues he faces today.
When he finds you, you are sulking in your room, “come on. I need you to help me and Tess track down Robert and his goons.”
Staring at him incredulously, you huff after a moment, bending down to pick up your boots. “You’ve got some fucking nerve, Miller.” You grumble, feeling like you are being taken advantage of right now. Joel doesn’t comment, just sends you a satisfied look as you put your boots on and turns towards the door.
“Get your pack, we might need it.” 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.
“This is the last goddamn time.” You promise yourself, muttering angrily as you get ready.
Joel doesn’t say anything, just raises his eyebrows as he listens outside. Both you and he know that’s not true. When you’re ready, he guides you down the alleyways to meet up with Tess. “Right. Let’s go get this fucker. I’m sick of his bullshit.” Joel huffs, making his way through the alleys to find the place Tess detailed when she told him where she was held.
“Awwww, you decided to come along, I’m so touched.” Tess coos mockingly when you reach her, making you grit your teeth and want to punch her in her good eye.
“Well, someone has to clean up your mess.” You huff back.
“Enough.” 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 weren’t 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 doesn’t care. He doesn’t have time for that trivial shit.
It’s 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.
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 doesn’t give a fuck. He wants to know who did that to them. When the door to his right suddenly opens, he doesn’t 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. “What’s who he sold our battery to? The Che Guevara of Boston?” You roll your eyes at her humor but it’s true. Listening to her tell Joel that they need to take this girl to the state house to meet her group. “Bring your puppy with you too.” You hiss at that, pissed off that Tess’s fucking nickname for you has caught on. “I tried to recruit her, but she’s too loyal to you Joel.”
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. “Fine.” He grunts after Tess states her case.
Huffing, you shake your head. “You two have fun with that.” You know it’s a bad idea. This is bullshit and there are other places to get a battery.
“You’re going with us.” Joel tells you sternly and you know that you will, if for anything but to watch his back.
“We don’t need her. Joel. She’ll just be a liability.” Tess barely spares you a glance and that pisses you off more.
“I’m going.” 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.
"Holy shit." She gasps and a truck drives by.
"Get down!" Joel hisses, forcing you to duck alongside Ellie.
“Jesus.” You hate being outside the QZ. Hate the risk and you know that it’s getting harder and harder every time. “We need to move. The fucking soldiers have been crawling around.” You murmur quietly, looking around and shivering slightly in the rain.
Just as you get ready to move, the QZ guard who buys from Joel approaches you, gun raised. Joel doesn’t even think, surging forward to start pummeling the guy to death. He’s feral and there’s nothing any of you can do except watch him. Ellie watches with a fascination while Tess stares impassively.
“Joel.” You know the man is capable of violence, you’ve 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. She’s infected. You listen to the hurried explanations and you know you need to have this conversation somewhere else. “We need to go.” You tell him, picking up the knife that the kid had stuck in the bastard’s leg and handing it back to her. You don’t know about her claim that she’s immune, but she deserves to be able to protect herself out here. “Take the rifle.”
Ellie takes it and Joel is almost dazed as you walk through the debris and overgrowth to find shelter in the city. Once you’ve 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, you’re stopping here for the night. “She’s infected.” Joel grunts when she’s fast asleep, bringing yours and Tess’s eyes over to him.
“Her wound looked healed.” Of course it had been dark as shit, but bites from the infected never looked better. It’s 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. “You should wrap it up.” You tell him.
Joel ignores you, just imagining what could’ve happened out there if that asshole had blabbed. You’d all be dead. Hung for treason or some bullshit like that. “I’m fine.” He finally answers and Tess looks over at him, “she’s right.” That Joel definitely ignores. He grunts, standing up, “I’ll take first watch. You two get some sleep. I’ll watch the girl.” He says, grabbing his rifle and ignoring the pain in his knuckles when he grips the handle.
You sigh, knowing it won’t 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 don’t 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. “Lazy bitch couldn’t even get up for a watch.” She scoffs at your sleeping form.
Joel shakes his head at her, “she didn’t sleep the night before. Trying to help me out by keeping an ear out for the radio. Just - let it, okay?” 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.
“What do we do with the girl?” Tess asks when he stands up, walking over to her.
“Kill her.” Joel says, knowing that Marlene wouldn’t find out. He could lie and say she got infected for real this time. It’s not far from the truth. “We don’t know if she’s gonna turn.” 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 they’ve 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. “Shoulda woke me.” You grumble, sitting up and rubbing the sleep from your eyes before you shuffle over towards Joel.
“You needed the sleep.” Joel murmurs, ignoring the scoff from Tess. “We should kill her.” 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. “You make one wrong move and I’ll kill ya.” He promises, making Ellie scoff and pull her sleeve up.
“I’m fine. No different than last night.”
You shift slightly, looking from Joel to Ellie. “Why didn’t she kill you?” 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. “Jesus.” You shake your head, unsure of what all of these means and look back towards Joel. It’s him she needs to convince. Or Tess rather because she can sway Joel’s opinion.
Joel considers not killing Ellie when Tess points out that it hasn’t spread. “Fine. Better get something to eat before we head out.” Joel says, sitting down, and he flexed his knuckles.
“Broken?” Tess asks and he shrugs, “hairline. It will heal fast.”
You frown at that but still get your jerky out of your pack.
Ellie, meanwhile, pulls out a delicious looking sandwich and your eyes widen. “Is that chicken?” 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 can’t 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. “Here.” You offer quietly, “to help with the swelling.”
Joel takes the pill, knowing it’s aspirin and trusting you. He swallows it dry and makes the decision to head out. “Let’s go. We need to take advantage of the daylight.” 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.
“Do we want to take the long way or the short way?” Joel asks and it’s not your opinion he’s actually asking for. Tess snorts.
“You mean the long way or sure to die way.” She corrects sarcastically, making Ellie’s eyes widen dramatically and you roll your own. You’ve been the short way and it’s fine as long as you pay attention.
“I vote for the long way given the small amount of information available.” Ellie huffs, making you smirk.
“The long way, fast.” You decide. “Sooner we get her to the state house, the sooner you have the truck you need to get to Tommy.” That’s 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.
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.
"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 it’s a clicker. Relieved when Joel isn’t 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 wouldn’t have done if he didn’t somewhat believe her story about not being infected, so it bodes well for her. “Come on kid,” you offer, giving her a small smile. “Let’s go up to the rooms. We’ve got a hell of a climb.”
Once you climb the ridiculous amount of stairs, Joel curses when he finds the exit has caved in. “Fuck.” He grunts.
“I can fit through. Let me try and get through.” Tess says and Joel shakes his head, “we can go the short way.”
Tess huffs, “we don’t have time. I’ll be fine.” 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 you’re 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 don’t 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 didn’t care enough. “So you and her are….” Joel’s entire body tenses.
“Pass.” Of course he wouldn’t define their relationship, he doesn’t ever acknowledge things Tess says in front of you, but he doesn’t deny them either.
Ellie huffs and turns her inquisitive eyes towards you. “So that means you and her are……” She trails off, trying to get either one of you to fill in the gaps.
Joel grunts, “pass.” He doesn’t want to talk about you or Tess with Ellie.
“Are you- is it like a throuple situation?” She guesses and Joel snorts, “nope.”
You and Tess would kill each other before you fuck each other. “Absolutely not.” You wrinkle your nose at being with Tess. God, she gets under your skin but she is important to Joel.
“Rightttt.” Ellie drawls just as there’s a thumping on the door. Joel stands up, gun in hand, anxious until Tess shouts her announcement that she’s 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.
Ellie has to step up on the little ledge and she looks down at the courtyard below. “There’s so many of them.” 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. “They’re connected.” Tess hums. “More than you know.” Joel looks over at you and meets your eyes for a second.
You wish that he cared about you, but he doesn’t. 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. “You’re not immune from being ripped apart.” Tess cautions her. “You understand?” 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 you’ve not been exactly nice to her. Your feelings for Joel getting in the way of that.
“So we’re not going that way.” Ellie huffs and you shake your head, knowing what’s coming. “Short way?” She asks, looking between the three of you and you look to Joel for his opinion.
“Museum.” He decides, making you roll your shoulders in anticipation of the problems ahead.
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 wouldn’t let her have a gun. She looks around, taking in the scene as the old building creaks and groans around you. “Yeah, cooked.” Joel says and Tess grunts.
“Finally some fucking luck.” Ellie steps forward, almost carelessly at their conversation. “I guess we should have gone this way in the first place.” Joel hums, not watching as Ellie turns a corner.
“Oh shit!”
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. “What the fuck did that?” She demands, making you shush her quickly. You look over at Tess and Joel, the other woman looking nervous.
“Maybe.” Tess whispers. “Maybe he was attacked outside. Crawled through the door, the door was open. It could have been him.” She insists, making you roll your eyes and scoff quietly. She knows that’s not what happened.
“I don’t hear anything.” She insists. “What would you hear?” 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. “What would you hear?” She repeats in a whisper, “you saying an infected did that?” Tess shushes her and you bite your lip. “-because I’ve been attacked by one and it wasn’t like that.” Ellie looks back at the body.
“Okay from this point forward we are silent. Not quiet, silent.”
Ellie shakes her head “what-”
Joel cuts her off, “no questions. Just do it.” Joel is anxious, always tense when he’s in closed spaces, and he slowly makes his way up the stairs. It’s 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 that’s 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. You’re trapped in a room with a fucking clicker. You don’t 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.
Shit. The clicker turns and screeches before Joel brings his gun up to shoot it.
It’s 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, “fucking go.” He hisses, “I’ll distract it.” 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. “
Fuck.” 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.
Joel curses, scrambling to keep the clicker away from you and Ellie and himself. It’s a struggle but eventually he manages to push it aside and put a bullet in its neck and eventually it’s 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. “You alright?” Joel asks Tess as she stands.
“Twisted ankle.”
He turns to you, eyes wide and asks you the same question. “I’m fine.” You answer and Tess asks Ellie who exhales shakily, “well I didn’t shit my pants.”
You can’t help but laugh at her response, knowing you felt the same way the first time you dealt with clickers. “Are you fucking kidding me?” Turning back towards the kid, your eyes widen when you see that she’s injured again. “Ah…I mean if it was going to happen to one of us.”
You catch the way that Tess tenses up, making you frown slightly but she’s quickly redirecting the conversation. “Hey, let’s get out of here.”
Making your way onto the roof, it’s 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. “Come here. I’ll help you.” 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 she’s walking towards the edge and the scaffolding that connects the two buildings. “Over there?” She asks and Joel barely glances at her. “Yeah, I know it looks scary.” Joel starts but Ellie interrupts him. “That was scary, this is wood.” She huffs as she brazenly walks across the beam and makes you smirk at the other two adults.
"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.
"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."
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.
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?"
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."
Joel sighs, grabbing his backpack and rifle before making his way across the wood. “Wow.” Ellie exhales, looking at that view. You shift to stand next to her, Joel on the other side.
“Is that everything you hoped for?” Joel asks Ellie as you stare across what used to be a major city now turned to a deserted urban jungle.
“Jury’s still out.” Ellie replies back, “but man…you can’t deny that view.” You hum in agreement and Joel looks at Ellie before his eyes meet yours for a second.
“Tess gonna live?” You ask, breaking the moment up but you hate how his eyes seem to suck you in. It’s not going to happen for you and you need to accept that. You’ve already decided that when Joel and Tess get their vehicle from the Fireflies, you are going to stay. You’ll go with them or turn around and find a way back to the QZ. You can’t do this anymore. It’s 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. “When we get to the state house-” You start, wanting to tell him your plan, but Tess comes hobbling up.
“Come on, let's get there before it’s dark” She demands, impatient to get moving again as she swings herself onto the ladder.
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 Ellie’s arm. Cautious and wondering if she’s gonna turn at any second. When you arrive, there’s no one there and you duck behind a car to see if anyone shows. “Where the fuck are they?” Tess asks and Joel shakes his head, looking back at Tess before his eyes meet yours.
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. “Stay back.” He orders, making his way around the truck to find the back is empty.
“Joel, what the fuck is going on?” You, Tess and Ellie come towards the truck and Joel shakes his head.
“I don’t know.”
You look around, a bad feeling settling in the pit of your stomach. “They went inside.” Ellie tells you, pointing to the blood on the ground and you sigh, knowing that is never a good sign.
Tess seems to take this as a personal attack and grabs Ellie’s hand as she marches towards the steps. “Tess.” Joel huffs, making you roll your eyes but you follow are the pair. Not for Tess’s 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.
“Holy shit.” Ellie hisses, and you have to agree. This is bad.
“Fuck.” You hiss under your breath, checking for signs of FEDRA or if it was infected that got them.
Tess searches the bodies, “I mean there’s gotta be a fucking radio or something, right?” She says, searching the crate closest to her.
“Who killed them? FEDRA?” Ellie asks and you shrug, glancing back at Joel who pulls the body at his feet back onto its back.
“No. One of them got bit. The healthy ones fought the sick ones. Everyone lost. Tess? What’re you doin’?” He asks, turning back towards her as she continues searching.
Tess steps towards the girl and you edge your way in front of her to protect her. “Where did Marlene say that she was taking you? Ellie!”
The girl steps forward, “uh. I don’t know. Just west.”
Tess turns away, “just west. Fuck. Okay. Well, I mean one of them’s gotta have a map on them, right?” She says more to herself. “Joel, can you help me?” She asks, nearly begging.
Joel shakes his head, “no! Tess, it’s over. We are going home.” He walks towards her, wanting to get everyone back to the QZ and safe.
Tess growls, “that’s not my fucking home.” Joel stares at her, eyes unreadable as Tess stands up. “I’m stayin’.” She declares, “I mean, our luck had to run out sooner or later.”
Joel’s face falls and your eyes widen just as Ellie says, “fuck. She’s infected.” Joel turns back to Tess, staring at her, almost begging her with his eyes for that to not be true.
“Show me.” Joel demands and you can hear the agony in the two words. He doesn’t want to believe it, doesn’t want it to be true. Your stomach drops, hating that she has been infected despite your differences. It didn’t mean you wanted her dead.
“Joel.” 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. “Oops.” She jokes. “Right?’ She turns to Ellie. “Take your bandage off.” You help Ellie take the bandage off to reveal that her own wounds from the clickers haven’t gotten any worse. She’s not infected. Walking over, she takes the girl's arm. “Look, Joel.” She demands, holding it up for him to inspect. “This is real. Joel she’s fucking real.” She insists. “I need you to get her to Bill and Franks.”
“No,” Joel shakes his head.
“They’ll take her off your hands. They’ll handle it from here.”
“No, no, no, I can’t. They won’t take her. They’re not going to take her.” He frowns.
“They will ‘cause you’ll convince them.” Tess tells him. “Yes you will. I never ask you for anything. Not to feel the way I felt…” You frown in confusion, not understanding what the fuck she is talking about. Joel loves her.
“No.” Joel shakes his head but Tess interrupts him.
“Not to…shut the fuck up because I don’t have time.” Joel looks devastated and you clutch Ellie’s shoulder as you try not to react to this entire scene being played out in front of you.
“This is your chance. You get her there, you keep her alive, and you set everything right. I know you don’t feel the same way I do but you need to stop burying your feelings. Life is too damn short to keep lying to yourself.” Tess says, her eyes meeting yours before she looks back at Joel’s. “All the shit we did…” She looks over at you, “he was gonna offer you up to Robert. He was gonna trade sex with you for the battery we needed.”
Your jaw drops and Joel refuses to look at you, keeping his gaze on Tess’s. “Little puppy dog, always following him around. Thinkin’ you were the third wheel when it was always me.” Tess chuckles humorlessly and shakes her head. “Please say yes, Joel, please.” Tess begs and Joel’s gaze shifts over to you.
The way you’re looking at him is enough to make him say no. He wants to protect you, protect the girl. He can’t do that if he takes you both to Bill and Frank’s. “Please.” Tess begs again just as the body behind Ellie shifts to crawl.
“Oh fuck!” The teenager yells and ducks behind you and Joel when you move her out of the way. Joel doesn’t 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.
“How many?” Tess asks.
“All of them. Maybe a minute.” 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. “What are you doing?” You ask and Tess answers with “making sure they don’t follow you.”
Joel is frozen, facing the reality that the woman who’s 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. “Joel.” Tess moves to stand in front of him. “Joel.” She repeats and he finally meets her gaze. “Save who you can save.” She orders, her eyes flicking over to you before she meets his dark stare.
He’s struggling. Part of him wants to drag Tess out of here but the other side of him wants to keep you safe. He’s torn and eventually, the side of the living wins. He stares at Tess, offering her a small nod, and he spins, grabbing Ellie’s hand and wrapping his arm around your waist. “Stop! We’re not leaving her. Get off of me you fucker! I’m not going with you!” Ellie shouts and you let Joel drag you out of the building. He’s frantic to get you away before the building explodes with Tess inside of it.
“Hurry up.” He growls, dragging you both until you’re 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.
Ellie stands beside him, watching their bodies fall to the floor with the flames, and Joel eventually lowers the gun. “Joel…” 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. “I’m not going.” You decide, stopping short, only a few hundred feet from where you had watched the building explode. “This is your mission. For Tess.” 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. “You ain’t going anywhere. It’s too dangerous. Stop movin’.” He growls when you try to pull out of his grip. “I don’t understand. What - why you wanna go back?”
Instead of trying to pull out of his grip, you spin around, slapping him across his cheek. “You fucking bastard!” You hiss, yanking your wrist away from him as he loosens his grip in shock. “You were going to- going to fucking sell me to Robert for your fucking battery!” Hot tears spill down your cheeks and you don’t even bother wiping them away. “I knew you didn’t-“ you break off, “fuck you, Miller.”
Joel is shocked that you slapped him and he hisses, “Jesus Christ.” He curses Tess despite her soul not even leaving the damn earth yet. “I didn’t sell you. He wanted you and I said no. I fuckin’ told him no.” He clarifies, ignoring the wide eyed look from Ellie.
“Tell me you didn’t think about it.” You challenge him, chest heaving as you step closer and square up to him. “Tell me that you didn’t consider it.” Joel doesn’t answer you and your chin trembles when you see the guilt in his eyes. “I thought so.” You choke out. “I fucking loved you and you were going to whore me out to save money and get your goddamn battery.”
He shakes his head, “no baby. I didn’t - I didn’t do it though.” He chokes, knowing you hate him and he doesn’t know why that destroys him when he’s fought so hard to keep you at arms length. “You can’t love me, okay? I’m - I’m a fucking mess and I was fooling around with Tess until I realized that I -” He cuts himself off, knowing that it’s getting dangerous.
“Until you what? Couldn’t whore her out?” You spit, shaking your head at him. “I put up with the stupid fucking nickname. ‘Puppy dog’.” You sneer. “Guess that’s what I was, huh? A stupid little puppy dog that doesn’t fucking realize she’s not wanted. Following you around, helping you, trying to make you- fuck, I don’t know.” You lift your hands helplessly and slap them down against your thighs. “Make you love me, I guess. But that’ll never happen. I’m not Tess.” You close your eyes, and sigh. “Just- go to take Ellie where Tess wanted you to, go find your brother. I’ll- I’ll be fine. I’m not your problem.”
He knows he will lose you forever if he lets you go now and he’s lost so much in his life. The burden he carries every damn day with each life he loses around him. He can’t lose you too. He brushes over what you said to finish his own sentence. “I was fooling around with Tess until I realized that I was fuckin’ in love with you and Jesus fuckin’ Christ that terrifies me.” He confesses, chest heaving.
You frown, not believing him for a second. “Don’t lie to me, Joel.” You sob out angrily. “You at least owe me the fucking truth.”
Ellie steps forward. “Hey so, uh- it’s-“
You turn around and glare at her. “Not now!” 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. “She was practically living in your apartment. She was there every damn night. Now you want to tell me you weren’t fucking her?”
“I stopped. We weren’t - we were plannin’ the smuggling. We weren’t doing shit other than figurin’ out how to get shit past the wall, past FEDRA. Jesus, sweetheart, I didn’t - I don’t want to put you in danger. I’ve been tryin’ to keep you safe. Tess knew how I feel. Shit, she was jealous and that’s why she called you my puppy dog. I should’ve stopped it but doing that wouldn’t meant acknowledging these fuckin’ feelings that I’ve been tryin’ to squash down. Love doesn’t 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.”
You don’t 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. There’s enough of you that immediately wants to forgive Joel that you stare into his dark eyes for a moment before you nod. “Fine.” You whisper. “I’ll….go with you on this fucking haul.”
Joel is relieved that you are coming along. He knows this conversation isn’t over but you need to get moving. Get to some kind of shelter before it gets dark. “Come on baby. We can talk later. Let’s get safe first.” He says, grabbing his rifle. Ellie raises her eyebrows at him as he walks past her.��
“Never knew you were so emotional, Joel.” 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 isn’t a ‘good man’ in the pre-end of the world morality. Maybe he was then, but this life, this world changed everyone - you included. You don’t even know as much as Tess might have, but you know that he had saved you when he could have killed you. That he didn’t give you to Robert. Biting your lip, you wonder if that’s 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.
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. It’s not comfortable but it’s safe and that’s all that matters. “We will set up here.” He declares, watching the tree line for any disturbances and when he doesn’t find any, he shrugs his pack off.
You don’t 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 weren’t 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 can’t move much, not with his hand even though he would protest over it.
Joel watches you start the fire and Ellie sits down on the ground, opening her pack to pull her sandwich out. She’s starving and she doesn’t want to wait to eat. When you’ve started the fire, Joel pulls out his food and water, holding it out towards you. “You gotta eat, sweetheart.” He says, watching you sit down across from him. He will mourn Tess later when he takes watch. He doesn’t want to show his emotions now when you’ve shattered him with your onslaught.
Shaking your head, you don’t take his offerings. “You need it more than me.” You tell him as you reach for your own pack. “I have my own but I just-” You bite your lip. “I’m going to sleep first. You take first watch and wake me in a few hours.” You don’t 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.
He doesn’t 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. “Don’t say a word, kid.” He orders, shaking his head after he swallows the chewy bark.
Ellie rolls her eyes, “whatever dude. You can’t see what’s right in front of you. What Tess saw.” 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 wasn’t.
You don’t know how long you’ve 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. “Shit.” You huff, putting the gun down and blinking rapidly. “Get some sleep, I’ll take over.” You promise, groaning quietly as you move to your feet to stretch.
Joel shakes his head, “no. I wanna talk. Come here.” He pats the space beside him, wanting you to come and sit down.
You hesitate but eventually sit down beside him. “What is it Joel?” You murmur, not wanting to rehash this bullshit.
“Shut up.” He orders and you open your mouth. “Shut the fuck up.” He hisses, pissed off with you. “I’m not gonna make this damn speech again, okay? I don’t do this shit. Not since before outbreak day. I - I love you. I don’t want to lose you. I don’t - I can’t lose someone else and I - I haven’t felt this way in so damn long and I tried to ignore it but I love you. I’m in love with you darlin’ and that fuckin’ terrifies me.”
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. “I’m sorry.” You offer. “For that, I guess. For Tess.” You have to look away from his dark gaze, unable to look at him for too long without wanting to kiss him. “I’m not sorry that I love you though.” You murmur, looking into the fire. “It’s- it hurt everyday but it was worth it.”
He turns to look at you, his brown eyes almost orange as they reflect the flames of the fire. He’s 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. It’s soft, the opposite of him, but he wants this moment to be good, to be memorable in case you don’t make it past tomorrow. In this life, every day is a bonus.
Eyes slipping closed, you want to live in this moment. Joel’s lips on yours makes your entire body tingle. Reaching up and taking his hand while your other finds his shoulders. Moaning softly because you can’t 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. “Fuck.” 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 you’ve 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. “Joel.” You whisper, not wanting to wake the kid. “I-“ 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 you’re gorgeous, fucking gorgeous, and he’s jerked off thinking about you too many lonely nights after he stopped sleeping with Tess. “We gotta be quiet.” He orders, sliding his hands higher so he can undo the clasp of your bra. He doesn’t 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.
There’s a voice in the back of your mind that wonders if this is because Tess is dead. If you’re merely replacing her for him. You push it down, ignore it. You don’t care when you are getting to touch him like you’ve always wanted to. Ducking your head down and kissing the bare patch on his jaw like you’ve always wanted to. Your fingers fumbling with his belt as you try to get him free from his pants. You can’t ride him like this, not without taking your pants off and that’s dangerous. Hell, this is too dangerous really. You’re 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 you’re going to bite through your lip trying to keep quiet. Loving the thick fingers you’ve watched so many times slide though your folds and press against your clit. “Joel.” You pant, needing more from him. “I- you have to fuck me.” You gasp out. “Please. Just- just once.” 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. “Please, baby. I need you.”
He nods, knowing he needs that connection. Losing Tess, nearly losing you, it’s 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, “can’t cum inside of you. Gonna need you to let me drag you off when I cum.” He whispers, knowing he won’t risk you like that.
You nod quickly, readily agreeing to whatever he wants. “I know- it’s- it’s okay.” 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. “I-“ 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, you’re 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. “Fuckkkk.” 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. “Gotta be quiet.” He whispers in your ear, kissing the skin beneath it.
“You- you might have to cover my mouth.” You admit breathlessly, whispering the words to him as you flash him a quick smile. “Always been loud in bed.” An irony in a world where you’ve 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. He’s 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 it’s hard when he feels like he’s 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 can’t. The kid is there. He can’t 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. “Can’t wake the kid, darlin’. You gotta keep quiet.” He reminds you, leaning in to rasp in your ear.
His hands are dirty, filthy. You should want to spit them out but you don’t. 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.
There’s so much to say to you and yet he can’t. The risk is too much, to both waking up the kid, and to his own heart. He can’t 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 it’s 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.
“That’s it baby.” 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 he’s 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. “Jesus Christ.” He exhales, letting go of his cock to tuck himself away and he shuffles over to where you are on the ground. “Sorry baby. Couldn’t - needed to pull out.”
“It’s fine.” You pant, understanding why he needed to pull out, but wishing he hadn’t. “You can’t risk it.” You’ve never told him anyway and in the moment isn’t a good time anyway. It’s 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 you’re settled, he reaches for your hand, dragging you close to wrap his arms around you. He breathes you in, relieved that he didn’t lose you today. He lost Tess, which he will process and grieve in his own way, but right now, he’s 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 Frank’s and he will do everything he can to keep you safe. Whatever it takes…he won’t lose anyone else he loves.
****
Joel reluctantly turns over the responsibility of watch to you. He needs rest, you know he didn’t sleep last night and he’s 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 aren’t 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 he’s been asleep. “Why didn’t you wake me?” He grunts and you shake your head, “you needed to sleep.”
Ellie nods, “yeah man. You had a rough day yesterday.”
He sits up, running his fingers through his hair and he shifts to stand up. “We gotta get going. Get your shit together. I’m gonna take a piss.” 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, you’ve 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. “So, uh, did you work your shit out?” Ellie asks, making you look over at her. “Cause I don’t want it to be a tense trip.” She offers, making you snort.
“It’s going to be a tense trip regardless.” You remind her, the journey is no walk in the park for sure. “But we’ve talked. While you were asleep.”
Ellie snorts, “talked. Sure.” She doesn’t believe you just talked. She’s not dumb. She learned about all that in school and she knows that’s 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 Ellie’s prying questions, you hustle forward and catch up to him. “Something up?” You ask, wondering if he wants to talk about the plan for getting Ellie to Bill and Frank’s.
Joel turns to look at you as you come alongside him, “everything okay with the kid?” He asks and you nod, “yeah she’s good.”
He sighs, “you think she’s gonna be okay with Bill and Frank?” You shrug, “who knows.” 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 he’s not crushing it. Your heart thumps in your chest and it’s impossible to not fall more in love with him. “Joel- I need to tell you something.” You murmur softly, not wanting Ellie to hear.” You can feel him tense up but you squeeze his hand reassuringly. “It’s not- it’s nothing bad. Or, I guess it’s better to say, "I made peace with it a long time ago.” You take a deep breath. “You don’t have to worry about getting me pregnant.” You confess. “I can never have kids.”
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.
“Premature ovarian failure.” You roll your eyes at the words that had been told you so many years ago. “Basically, I stop producing eggs.” You explain. “I found out about two years before the end of the world. So I guess it’s handy?” You try, your joke falling flat. “Not that I would want to have kids in a world like this. It’s not fair to them. Not fair to her.” You nod back towards Ellie. “I just- if we, you know, again….you don’t have to pull out if you don’t want to. If you do, I get it.”
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. “Maybe we can find a hotel to spend the night in tonight.” You tease softly, not sure what awaits you on this journey but at least you’ll be there. By his side this time, instead of trailing along behind him like his little puppy.
#pedro pascal#joel miller#hbo the last of us spoilers#tlou hbo#hbo tlou#hbo the last of us#the last of us hbo#joel miller x you#joel miller x reader#joel miller x f!reader#joel miller smut#joel miller imagine#joel miller fanfiction
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Party Games
Summary: You want it bad.
Pairing: Beefy Bucky Barnes x Reader
Word count: 2K
A/N: This wasn’t the kink y’all picked, but here we are. It’s two am. 🥴 Hope you enjoy! You can read this as a companion piece to That Face.
Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. SMUT! Read at your own risk; curate your own experience. Reader is owning her sexuality. This is about a nal s ex and it’s enjoyment. Allusions to past acts and partners. A teeny bit of angst, but mostly pwp. Bucky has turned reader out but he’s sprung. Drinking, bathroom s ex, mirror s ex, rough s ex, (but Bucky’s so sweet), oral s ex (f receiving), a nal, praise/degradation kink, allusion to group s ex if you squint. Not Beta’d. All errors my own.
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I Do NOT Consent to my work being reposted, translated or presented on any other blog or site other than by myself.
You were having fun at game night. Until the bottle pointed Bucky’s way.
Then the fun turned into need.
“Choose anyone here to do anything with.”
“That’s easy,” Nat laughed as she rolled her eyes.
“No. I’ll give James a pass. He can go with anyone he’d like.”
You were confident of your man.
Bucky’s face lit up.
“Really Doll?”
You hesitated. You didn’t like the way he jumped at that chance. Curse your mouth that ran ahead of your brain when you were tipsy.
You fixed your face as Steve smirked at you two and took a swig of his beer.
“Really James. Live your fantasy.”
Your voice was less confident now.
You held your smile as Bucky grinned and rubbed his hands together, looking around his circle of friends.
He could choose any one of these beautiful people. You'd heard tales of how wild it got with them being in the field before you got together, and even of him and Steve, years ago.
‘Adolescent exploration,’ Bucky had called it.
You lowered your head and braced yourself as you felt him stand up. You didn’t want to see who he chose. You listened, on alert, to the sound of his shoes as he went toward the bedroom door. He stopped, presumably to make his choice.
“Get that ass in here, y/n.”
You gasped and looked behind you to see that Bucky was grinning at you. Everyone started laughing when you got up and skipped toward him.
Bucky pulled you through the bedroom to the bathroom, making sure to close both doors for extra privacy. He chuckled at you.
“How could you even think I’d choose someone else, Doll. You know you’re my one and only.”
You nodded and allowed him to pull you into his arms.
“I know. You know how I get when I drink. I get loose. Create scenarios.”
You shrugged as you smiled up at Bucky, causing his heart to skip a beat.
“You’ve had three beers, Doll. I was counting.”
“You were watching me?”
You angled your neck back as Bucky started licking your pulse point. It was a done deal that you were gonna let him fuck you in your en suite with your friends in the other room.
The question was how.
“Like a hawk, Doll. Was gonna suggest you stop after three. Need you to be sober enough to let me in. You’re a tight fit.”
Bucky’s hand was palming your cunt over your jeans and you ground yourself into the warm metal.
“It’s because you’re so big, James.”
You smirked at him.
“But how much tighter is my ass tho?”
Bucky stopped, pulled back and looked at you, eyes blazing and jaw clenching.
“Fuck. Doll. You want me to fuck ypu like that? Right now?”
Bucky licked his lips, exactly like you imagined the big bad wolf would before he tore you apart.
You whined in anticipation, your core flooding with slick. You whispered your reply to him.
“Yes, Bucky. Please. I- I’ve been thinking about the last time since the last time and I- I need it.”
You reached for him and started unbuckling his belt, a fiend.
Bucky closed his eyes as you went inside his pants and started to stroke him. He was thinking about how you wanted him to fuck you and the way it had you stuttering.
“Please, James. Pretty please?”
When he opened his eyes again, you licked your lips and pouted. How could you be begging for something so filthy yet be so adorable?
His dream girl.
Bucky panted while you handled him, your hand barely closing around his stiff, aching cock.
“Doll…I…”
You watched Bucky’s eyes dilate as he opened his mouth to breathe and you continued to stroke him. The way that you were licking your lips and looking him in the eye made Bucky realize that he was the one that taught you to be bold.
“I’m such a fucking slut for this cock. Want it in my ass, Daddy.”
“Jesus.”
You had Bucky shook. And he admired the monster he’d made.
“Yes, James. Make me your fuck doll. You know what you’ve done to me.”
And it was true.
Bucky Barnes had ruined you.
Turned you out.
Reduced you to a dripping, quivering, distracted mess whenever you thought about it.
You wanted him to do that sweet, dark, feral thing all the time.
All the time.
Something about being impaled on his pretty, hard, huge cock, stretched to your limits, feeling pleasure that was just on the razor's edge of pain and pleasure that had you hooked.
Oh, and when Bucky led you over that edge into that intense pleasure …
God.. you were addicted to it.
That first time, he was gentle, oh so gentle. And, as he promised, he’d made it feel oh so good.
Bucky teased you, pleased you, coaxed you, ate you, stretched you, lubed you, then eased into you so slowly and sweetly that you were on cloud nine the entire time.
And you’d cum harder than you ever had before.
Then Bucky took care of you with a hot bath, food, water, and rest.
The more you did the deed, the more wanton you were for it. You moved, arched, grabbed, and begged for it.
Tonight, the added bonus of people a few feet away had you heated, glowing hot.
And Bucky was like a moth to a flame.
He took you by the waist and brought his mouth to yours, making you open for him in this way first, wanting the tenderness on your lips at the moment. He backed you up to the sink, and left you breathless as he drew away, opening the medicine cabinet.
You were looking down at Bucky’s cock playing peekaboo in your hand as he searched behind you. You looked up when he suddenly exclaimed.
“Ah HA!”
Bucky brought a brand new bottle of lube around in front of you and your heart started beating double time.
Setting the lube down on the counter, Bucky reached for the button on your jeans, sliding your zipper down. His thick, metal index finger traced the slit in your panties, divining your wetness.
“How long were you thinking about this today? Hmmmmm?”
Bucky looked down on you possessively, demanding an account of your intimate thoughts. He took in the lust on your face and reveled in the fact that you really wanted this. His mouth descended toward yours before you had a chance to answer.
Bucky loved making love to you, fucking you, taking you apart and putting you back together. But this kind of connection was the most intimate to him.
It was not just because it felt amazing being inside your delicate, snug walls, but because this uncharted territory yielded just for him. Bucky was not into virginity as a concept, but damn, knowing that he’d made you into this brazen, begging goddess, that you’d let him into a place so sacred to you rendered him a slave to your pleasure, which he could tell was intense.
Bucky turned you around so that you faced the mirror and he pulled up your tank top, exposing your breasts to the bright bathroom light.
“You wore this with no bra on purpose, didn’t you?”
Bucky just stared at your chest instead of touching like you wanted him to, expecting an answer as he pressed his black-jeaned bulge against your ass.
“Yes, James.”
Bucky’s jaw clenched and he lowered his lips to your neck while his hands came up and played with your nipples, slowly and tenderly circling your areolas. You arched into his hands; you wanted it rough.
The sound you made when he started pulling was everything.
“Eyes open. Watch what I do to you.”
You watched Bucky watch your face and your open mouthed breathing.
When your eyes connected he said, “Good girl.”
You turned your head and kissed him before he grabbed your open jeans and pulled them down your body, kneeling behind you as he took them off.
Bucky sat back on his haunches and looked at you, running his hands up and down your thighs, grabbing your ass and admiring your anatomy.
“So gotdamn beautiful, Doll.”
You shivered as he started kissing your legs, and soon, but not soon enough, licking into your heat.
Bucky’s moans as he participated in his fine dining was enough to make you cum, or maybe it was the anticipation.
It didn’t matter, because by the time he stood up and told you to, “Bend over, Doll,” your knees were already weak.
You watched Bucky tear the plastic off the bottle of lube with his teeth, plucking your own nipples now.
“You ready?”
It was a purely rhetorical question as you moaned in response.
Bucky watched in awe as the cool lube dripped onto your ass and you arched to meet it. A thick metal middle finger quickly warmed both the liquid and you. You let him fuck you there digitally until you begged for him.
“Need you James…please!”
Bucky grunted, reaching around for your clit again.
“Give me one more, Doll.”
His human hand was magic as he worked you from both front and back. Once he had what he wanted, he pulled back to take off his pants and looked down at his prize.
“Shirt too, please.”
He couldn’t deny your look in the mirror; Bucky loved how you loved his body completely.
Finally, he was teasing your tight hole with his cock, sparking electricity and rivulets of slick in your core. You could tell he was holding back because his jaw was clenched and his movements were tentative.
When you bent down and pushed back onto him was when his eyes rolled and you saw his head hang back on his shoulders.
“Holy mother of…. Damn, Doll.”
Soon his eyes were back on yours in the mirror as you fucked yourself back on him.
“Remember when I had to beg you to fuck this sweet ass, Doll?”
Bucky looked down at his thick cock breaching your tight hole. Then he pulled you upright and flush against him for control, one hand around your neck and the other in your cunt as he pounded inside your tightness.
Bucky searched your glazed expression in the mirror, your head lolled back against his flesh shoulder as you rode his cock and his metal hand. Three of his warm, vibrating metal fingers were deep inside your cunt as he slowly fucked your puckered hole.
“Now you beg me.”
“Hmmm. Ummm hmmmm.”
You nodded, mouth open for air as you let the pleasure take over you.
“You really are all mine, aren’t you?”
“Yesss Jamesssss…Ohhhhh yesss.”
The third orgasm while he was buried in you made Bucky wild, and he started pumping in earnest, keenly tuned into your sounds for any sign of discomfort. All you felt was his thick dick pulling and dragging inside the most sensitive parts of you.
And pure rapture.
“I can take it. Give it please!”
At that point Bucky had to stop, and pulled your head up as he whispered in your ear. You could feel his huge cock pumping in time with his heartbeat inside you.
“My beautiful complete cock slut. Such a good fucking girl for me.”
They way he bared his teeth as he snarled it in your ear caused you to spasm again as he fully wrecked you now, pumping voluminous amounts of cum inside you.
“Holy fuck!”
Bucky bit down on your shoulder as you laughed, still impaled on his softening cock. You curled your legs up as he carried you over to the shower and turned it on, him finally releasing you to kiss you thoroughly against the shower wall.
“We’re being rude to our guests, Bucky.”
“Wanna invite them to join us?”
You smirked as you turned around and Bucky started washing your back.
“I draw the line at those party games.”
“Me too,” Bucky smirked, “you’re all mine, Doll.”
“Now let me clean you up…”
And Bucky’s hand was between your legs…
As always: If you liked it, please reblog.
#Bucky Barnes#bucky x female reader#bucky barnes x black female reader#bucky x reader#bucky imagine#bucky barnes imagine#bucky barnes x female reader#beefy bucky#bucky x y/n#bucky barnes x reader smut#Bucky Barnes x reader#bucky smut#beefy boyfriend Bucky Barnes
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Could I Have This Kiss Forever?
Joel Miller x fem!reader
Important Note: This blog supports Palestine and does not condone or share the views of the creator of TLOU. Please interact with tlou critically and be aware of the zionistic views of its creator.
Word count-4.5k
Warnings- s.mut (18+ ONLY!), Valentine's Day fic, fluff, mutual pining, set in Jackson after the first game/season, reader is a baker/cook, reader can remember life before the outbreak but no age specified, food mention, oral (f receiving), praise, unprotected, soft pleasure dom Joel, squirting, feelings, no use of y/n
Notes- Happy Valentine's Day @saradika I'm your secret Valentine!!! I loved the prompt you gave and the idea came to me almost immediately! And I tried to fit as many things as you mentioned in this as I could! I hope you like it! Enjoy!
@flightlessangelwings-updates is my update blog so please follow that and turn on post notifs to stay up to date on when I post new things!
~
Joel could see his breath as he walked down the street. There was a nip in the air, and it stung his face as the cold hit what little exposed skin he had. Wrapping his jacket a little tighter, Joel huffed as the light layer of snow crunched beneath his feet. It wasn’t unusual for there to be cold and snow in mid February in Jackson, yet the glistening white in the trees always made its residents awestruck. The setting sun illuminated the land in a way that made the surrounding look like a painting. Even Joel had to appreciate the beauty of it all.
It reminded them of a simpler time, a more peaceful time. It reminded everyone of a time before the world collapsed, before there was the daily worry for their lives. Joel used to push those thoughts down. He used to try to ignore the sting of Sarah’s absence. But, the longer he was in Jackson with Tommy and Ellie and others who he would soon call friends, the more he allowed himself to think about his lost daughter and how much she would have loved the snow.
But, a tantalizing smell broke Joel out of his thoughts. As he passed the little building on the corner which had become a bakery slash bar, his thoughts turned to someone else: you.
You brought a new light to Jackson the day you arrived, and Joel was immediately taken with you. From the way your eyes captivated him to the way your smile made his heart flutter in a way no one else did, Joel was a goner from the moment he laid eyes on you. He kept it a secret, though. Life was hard enough as it was, even for those lucky enough to find their way to Jackson.
If Joel only knew you harbored the same secret he did…
Inside the building was the complete opposite of the chilly outside. It was warm and bright and the smells of various cakes and desserts permeated the space as you worked. You actually felt hot enough to shed your outer layers and rolled up your sleeves. You were so focused on the task in front of you that you didn’t hear the door open until a gruff voice cleared his throat.
Jumping up with a gasp, you looked up and locked eyes with… “Joel,” you breathed as you relaxed, “You startled me!”
“Sorry,” he helped his hands up in mock surrender, “I just wanted to check in on ya,” he continued, “It’s gettin’ late and you’re still here workin’ hard.”
“Oh,” you replied in a daze as you noticed the lack of sun from behind where Joel stood in the doorway, “Lost track of time, I guess,” you murmured, “I wanted to finish all these tonight for the big Valentine’s dance tomorrow night so I can enjoy the party too.”
Valentine’s Day… Joel didn’t even realize that was tomorrow. “Want a little help?” he offered, “I ain’t much good in the kitchen, but you can tell me what to do.”
You smirked as your mind ran with the thought of telling big strong Joel what to do, “Go wash your hands and you can help me with these last few cakes.”
“Yes ma’am,” Joel replied with a smirk of his own and both of you felt like the room just got a lot warmer.
Joel shrugged off his jacket and rolled up the sleeves of his flannel shirt before he went to the sink to wash his hands and made his way back to you. He was positive Ellie would give him a hard time if she caught him like this- working with little sweets and desserts, following your orders instead of taking the lead. But, Joel also found he didn’t mind. He enjoyed the feeling of domestic bliss, even if it was only for this one evening.
“You’re really good at this,” Joel commented as he watched you meticulously decorate the various cakes you spent all afternoon baking.
“Thanks,” your heart fluttered at the compliment from Joel Miller, “I’ve always been creative since I was a kid. I liked making things… art and stuff. I actually wanted to be some kind of artist when I was younger, before…” you trailed off as you stopped and raised your eyes to meet his.
Both of you froze for a moment as you gazed into the other’s eyes. Time stopped, as did your breathing. The roughness around Joel’s eyes framed the softness that lay hidden there. Scars on his face told you he had been through a lot, but then again so had you. As you looked at him, studying his face, you completely forgot to breathe, losing yourself in his features.
Joel felt himself tense as he stared back at you. The warmth that surrounded him felt like it came from you, not the heat in the room. He wasn’t too good with the whole comforting thing, but Joel wanted nothing more than to take you in his arms and hold you close, protecting you from everything around. Normally, he was good at burying his feelings, but he slipped when his eyes flashed down to your lips for just the briefest moment.
Clearing his throat right away, Joel leaned back, breaking the trance you both were in, “Yeah,” he finally said, filling the silence, “You are an artist that’s for sure. You’re certainly better than me anyway,” he muttered as he held up the messily decorated cake in his hands.
You couldn’t help but burst into laughter, “Joel,” you covered your face with your hands, “I’m sorry, I…” you wheezed as your laughter became uncontrollable.
“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up,” Joel rolled his eyes. It didn’t bother him though, he knew he had many strengths and even before the outbreak, he couldn’t decorate a cake to save his life. Plus, the sound of your laughter was music to his eyes, and Joel loved to hear it whenever he could.
“Here,” you took a few breaths to gather yourself, “Let me show you a trick.”
You moved over to sit next to him and took the spatula from his hand, brushing it ever so slightly as you did so. A chill ran up your spine at the slight contact, but you swallowed hard and fought to keep your composure.
“You alright, sweetheart?” Joel asked, noticing the slight change in your demeanor.
“Fine,” you replied back right away, “Here,” you used the spatula to scoop some icing and ran it along the cake, “Just like painting a picture.”
“Beautiful,” Joel mumbled under his breath, completely ignoring the cake you were decorating.
Luckily, or unluckily, for Joel, you didn’t notice as you became too enthralled with what you were doing.
“There!” you sounded triumphant as you put the finishing touches on what cake Joel had worked on, “Ta da!” you held it up with pride and beamed at him for a moment before you set it down and turned to the far table, “Now just a few more to go…”
“I ain’t going nowhere,” Joel said, “As long as you won’t shit on my decorating anymore, I’ll stay and help… If you’ll have me.”
A mix of emotions ran though you. You wanted to laugh at him again for his poor decorating skills, but you also didn’t want him to leave your side. So, biting your lip to stifle a giggle, you replied, “Ok I promise I won’t laugh at you again.”
“I’ll hold you to it,” Joel smirked, sending a wave of heat through your body.
Hours passed and it was well into the night before you and Joel finally finished. You enjoyed his company, and the two of you filled the time shooting the shit while you worked. It took some time, but Joel finally let his guard down around you, and you loved that he trusted you enough to relax. And you trusted him too, and felt safe around him.
“Well I think that does it,” you sighed heavily as you wiped you face, “That was the last one!”
Joel looked at you with pure admiration on his face, as if he were a lovestruck teenager and the world was normal again. Then as he studied your face closer, he couldn’t help but let out a single soft laugh.
“What is it?” you asked, puzzled.
“Ya got a little…” Before he realized what he was doing, Joel reached out and brushed your face with his hand, wiping a smudge of frosting off your cheek, “There.”
You gasped softly as you stood there stunned, frozen in place as you felt a tingle where Joel touched your skin. Absentmindedly, you touched your cheek with your fingers, relishing in the lingering warmth of his touch.
Joel was about to apologize, but he also found himself in a trance. You just looked so beautiful, and he wasn’t sure what to make of your reaction to his touch.
But, before he could say hating, you broke the silence. “Hey Joel…” you started, suddenly feeling nervous as your skin warmed so much that you were sure the reminanta of the frosting on your face were about to sizzle.
“Yeah?”
“I uhh…” you fumbled over your words, your gaze dropping to the ground as you felt his eyes on you, “Thank you,” you breathed as you looked at Joel again, “I would have been here all night if you weren’t helping me.”
A flash of disappointment showed on Joel’s face before he glanced over your shoulder and noticed the hint of sun in the horizon, “It looks like we still did,” he muttered as he motioned toward the window.
You let out a heavy sigh, “Well fuck I guess we did,” you chuckled nervously, still feeling the lingering tension in the air between the two of you.
It hung in the air unspoken between the two of you: It’s Valentine’s Day.
You fiddled with your fingers nervously as you weren’t sure what to say. The air suddenly felt thick between the two of you, as if there was so much you both had to say. Yet, neither of you had the courage to break what you already had.
Joel cleared his throat as he closed the gap between your bodies and mumbled your name, “Listen I…” he rested a hand on your shoulder.
“Yes?” you looked at him with a hopeful expression, your lips parted as you breathed heavily.
“I uhh,” Joel stuttered. He scanned your face, taking in every inch of your beauty as the words were right on the tip of his tongue. Instead, he said, “Happy Valentine’s Day, sweetheart.”
A brief flash of disappointment showed on your face before you gathered yourself, “Happy Valentine’s Day, Joel,” you replied in a hushed tone.
“Why don’t we go get some sleep before the big party tonight?” he offered, “I’ll put this all away for ya.”
“Yeah, ok,” you sounded distant, “See you tonight then?”
Joel smiled, “I wouldn’t miss it.”
That lifted your spirits, “See you tonight, Joel.”
*
The Valentine’s Day dance was a huge success, as were your cakes. Everyone made sure to stop and compliment you before they went back to dancing and enjoying their time. Some even asked you for a dance themselves, but you turned them all down. No, there was only one person you wanted to dance with, and he stood on the other end of the room.
“Go on, ask her to dance,” Ellie nudged Joel, “Or are you too fuckin’ scared?” she added with a tease, “Chicken!”
“Ellie,” Joel sighed as he rolled his eyes, “Just stay out of it, alright.”
Knowing when to back down, she raised her hands in surrender, “Alright, alright,” she slid her hands in her pockets and started to walked away before she glanced over her shoulder, “But don’t come crying to me when someone else asks her to dance cause you were too chickshit to.”
“Ellie!” Joel snapped, but she ran off and disappeared into the crowd, presumably to find Dina. Joel knew about Ellie’s little crush on her, but he decided to let her come to him on her own terms about it. He just wanted his kid to be happy after all…
Joel’s thought turned from Ellie to you as he scanned the room and found you again. You had moved slightly, but you still stood at the edge of the crowd, not dancing with anyone. You looked stunning as you found yourself right under a light as if it was a spotlight just for you. Your smile lit up the room as yet another person came up to compliment you, and Joel’s chest tightened as the person was obviously asking you to dance.
“Shit…” he mumbled under his breath, thinking he missed his chance.
But, Joel was surprised to see them walk away with a disappointed look on their face while you stayed in that same spot. You fiddled with your fingers for a moment before you scanned the room and locked eyes with Joel. Freezing in place, your mouth parted to let out a deep exhale.
“Fuck it,” Joel muttered to himself, thinking it was now to never. He crossed the room, greeting his brother on the way before he walked up to you. Joel tried to act calm and smooth to hide the nerves he secretly harbored, “Howdy ma’am,” he nodded his head once in a greeting as you giggled, “May I have this dance?” He extended a hand to you.
“Joel Miller,” you breathed, “I thought you’d never ask,” you grinned as you slid your hand in his.
You knew he didn’t usually dance, and your heart pounded in your chest as you wondered why he broke his streak. And the warmth of his large hand in yours radiated throughout your body, making you a little dizzy. But, Joel was there to catch you, wrapping his arm around you and pulling you close as the tune changed to a slower ballad.
Leaning against his sturdy chest, you swayed with Joel to the rhythm of the song. But, you could barely hear it over the pounding of your heart. You barely even heard when Joel said something to you, or said your name when you didn’t respond.
“What?” you blinked as you focused your eyes.
“I said them desserts seem to be a hit,” Joel repeated himself as he adjusted his grip on your body.
“Yeah,” you replied, “Even those messy looking ones,” you smirked.
“Hey you promised,” he quipped back with no malice in his tone and a soft grin on his face.
“I know, I know,” you laughed softly, “I’m sorry. They still taste good though.”
“They do,” Joel’s tone dropped, as did his gaze.
“Joel…” you breathed as you felt the burning heat of his gaze on you.
“Listen, I uhhh,” he murmured your name in a low tone, “I wanna kiss you so fuckin’ bad right now,” the moan you let out went right to Joel’s cock, “But I don’t wanna share ya with all these people.”
Another moan escaped your lips and time felt frozen around you and heat rose from your pussy all throughout your body, “Joel…” you whined his name again as desperation took over you.
Joel leaned in closer to you, his lips hovering over yours as the slow sway of your bodies slowed down. He wanted to kiss you so badly. He wanted this for so long. But, Joel was also secretly a romantic, and he didn’t want his first kiss with you to be witnessed. He wanted to selfishly keep that to himself. So, instead of closing the gap, he murmured in a low tone, “Wanna get out of here?”
“Yes,” you breathed immediately as you pulled away enough to look into his eyes. You gasped softly when you saw the deep need that burned behind his eyes, and you knew exactly what he was thinking. “Let’s go, Joel.” you slipped your hand into his and let him lead you out the door and away from the party and wandering eyes.
From the other side of the room, Ellie grinned widely as she watched the two of you slip away from the party.
*
The moment the door to Joel’s house closed, it was like a flip switched in his head. “Can I kiss you now, baby?” he asked in a low tone as he backed you up against the door.
“You better,” you smirked back as you grabbed his collar, “And call me that again,” you groaned as you bucked your hips against his.
Joel grunted as he grinned against your cheek, “Baby…” his low grumble went right to your core as he took your lips with his in a heated kiss.
His beard tickled your skin as his lips warmed yours. Joel’s strong hands gripped you tightly as he pulled you against his body. You clung to his shirt as his kiss warmed you from the inside while his chest warmed your own as you felt yourself pressed flush against him. Despite the dizzying feeling in your head, you knew you were safe in his arms and that Joel wouldn’t let you fall.
“Shall we take this to the bedroom?” you purred against his lips between kisses.
“Thought you’d never ask,” Joel smirked back.
You erupted into giggles as Joel yanked you enthusiastically down the hall. Hands roamed all over each other’s bodies as you each tugged at the other’s clothing. Joel closed the gap between your lips over and over again, desperately kissing you between shoving clothes off.
A trail of clothing led the way to Joel’s room until neither of you had anything on. You felt like you were in a whirlwind as you allowed Joel to guide you though his house until your legs hit the edge of his bed. A gasp escaped your lips as you realized where you were, but you quickly gathered yourself. Grabbing his broad shoulders, you flung yourself back onto his bed, both of you exhaling sharply as you landed with Joel on top of you.
“Shit, baby,” Joel muttered as he took a moment to study your naked figure beneath him, “You’re so fuckin’ pretty.”
“So are you, Joel,” you breathed as you cupped his face, burying your hands in his hair.
Joel let out another sharp breath, “Well don’t you know how to make a man feel special?”
“Just like you know how to treat a lady,” you smirked back.
“Oh you ain’t seen nothin’ yet,” Joel’s tone dropped as he dipped his head down and took your lips once more. He swallowed the moan you let out and bucked his hips against yours, relishing the feeling on your skin against his after so many nights imagining this.
Joel broke away from the kiss to make his way down your neck, licking and nibbling your sensitive skin along the way. Your mouth dropped open as your mind swam in the pleasure that was Joel’s kisses. But, the sensations only heightened when he reached your breast and wrapped his lips around your nipple.
The cry you let out went right to Joel’s cock, and every moan from you only made him need you more. Joel’s tongue swirled around your nipple as he kneaded your other breast with his calloused hand. You arched your back to allow him more access to your body and buried your hand in his hair, tugging slightly every time he sucked at your nipple just a little bit harder.
“Joel… Fuck…” you whined as he kissed his way to your other breast with a low groan and gave it the same treatment.
He hummed against your skin, rocking his hips against your already soaking wet pussy as he showered you with devotion. As much as Joel wanted to take his time and savor the moment, savor you, his need was too great.
“Shit baby,” Joel breathed as he kissed his way down the front of your body, “You taste to fuckin’ good,” he growled as he eyed your pussy and settled between your parted legs, “But I bet your pussy tastes even better.”
Before you could laugh at his antics, or even appreciate his humor, Joel’s tongue swirled around your clit and licked up and down your folds, shoving every other thought from your body. You cried out in pleasure as your body already trembled under his touch.
“Fuck!” you screamed as you gripped the sheets tightly.
“Fuck me, you do taste good, baby,” Joel groaned as he came up for air for a moment before he dove back into you.
You cried out even louder as you moved your hands to his shoulders for support. Joel growled into you as he hiked one of your legs over his shoulder, opening your body up to him more. Tears filled your eyes as his tongue hit your clit perfectly, and you knew you weren’t going to last.
Especially then Joel pushed two tick fingers inside of you while his tongue contoured tracing patterns on your clit.
“Joel! Fuck!” you screamed, “Yes!”
“You gonna cum for me, baby?” he murmured, his lips hovering over your pussy just for a moment.
“Yes, Joel,” you whimpered, “You’re gonna make he cum if you keep doing that,” your hips bucked on their own as his fingers pumped in and out of you in a steady rhythm.
“Good,” he grinned before he covered your cunt with his lips once more and sucked harder.
The moans you let out echoed in the room as you felt your climax quickly build. Your core tightened as you gasped when his fingers hit that sweet spot inside of you. And before you could warn him, you came hard into Joel’s mouth. You gushed as your body felt like it was floating in the pleasure Joel gave you and you screamed his name loudly as wave after wave of pleasure coursed through your body.
Joel kept going until he heard you whimper, determined to pull every punch of your claim from you and lap up every drop of your release. When he finally broke away, both of you gasped loudly. You flopped down flat, limp from exhaustion, and Joel sat up to admire how beautiful you looked.
“Shit, baby,” Joel groaned, “That was better than them cakes.”
You blinked your eyes open and met Joel’s gaze. The two of you froze for a moment before you burst into laughter, “I never knew you were so funny, Joel.”
He leaned forward, covering your body with his own, “There’s a lot you don’t know about me, sugar,” he hummed in amusement as his lips hovered over yours.
“Then I want to learn them all,” you whispered against his lips.
“Me too, baby,” he murmured before he took your lips in a slow kiss.
You moaned into his mouth as you wrapped your arms and legs around him, “Joel,” you breathed, “I need you to fuck me now.”
“Yes ma’am,” he replied with a huff as he positioned himself at your entrance.
Both of you gasped as the tip of his cock poked at your pussy. Joel broke away just enough to watch your face as he slowly started to push in, feeling the warmth of your wetness around him. Your eyes snapped shut as you savored the stretch of his cock as you clawed at his back. Joel tried to keep his own eyes open, not wanting to miss a moment, but you felt too good that he couldn’t help but close them.
Joel mumbled your name as he bottomed out inside you, “Shit you feel so fuckin’ good, sweetehart.”
“Joel…” was all you could say, too lost in the bliss to form any coherent thought.
The bed creaked as Joel started a slow rhythm, rocking himself in and out of you. Once again, your moans filled the room in a beautiful melody as Joel fucked you. Only this time, his own grunts and groans harmonized with yours, creating an all new song.
Heat rose in the room despite the chilly air outside as Joel picked up his pace. Feeling you engulf him made him forget about the ache in his back as he thrust his hips back and forth over and over again. Joel was just as lost in you as you were in him, and he was sure neither of you were going to last much longer.
After so long of wanting you, finally having you almost made Joel cry. He murmured your name over and over again as he mumbled how beautiful you looked on his cock, “So fuckin’ pretty, baby,” he grunted, “Fuck…”
“Fuck… Yes… Joel…” was all you could form as you felt another orgasm quickly approach, “Gonna cum…”
“Show me how pretty you are when you cum on my cock, sweetheart,” he growled as he picked up his pace, his hips slapping against yours as he chased his own climax.
“Fuck!” you screamed as you tightened your grip on Joel and trembled under his body as your second peak hit.
“That’s it baby,” Joel groaned, “That’s my girl,” he gasped as he felt your inner muscles squeeze him tightly.
Your climax triggered his own and with a moan of your name, Joel spilled himself deep inside of you, filling you to the brim. Chills ran up your spine as you felt him cum in you, and you moaned softly as the aftershocks of your own climax pulsed through your body at the same time.
Joel kept his pace as long as he could until he pulled back once last time, pulling out of you, before he collapsed on the bed next to you. You gasped as you felt a sudden emptiness, but Joel immediately wrapped you in his arms and pulled you close.
No words were spoken as the two of you came down from your highs. But this time, it was a comforting silence in the air. The tension from the day before was gone now that the two of you finally showed your true feelings for the other. Joel breathed deeply as he stroked you back comfortingly, and you smiled against his chest as you felt the beat of his heart.
You stayed like that for some time before you broke the silence, “Hey Joel,” you wriggled out of his embrace and straddled him, “Can I ask you something?”
“Shit, lookin’ like that you can have anything you want, baby,” Joel joked as he admired your naked form on top of him.
You grinned back at him as you rested your hands on his chest, “Will you be my Valentine?”
Joel’s face lit up as he grabbed you and yanked you down, crashing your lips together, “Always, baby,” he murmured between kisses. When you broke away for air, Joel gazed lovingly up at you, “Now why don’t you show me how pretty you are when you ride me?”
The moan you let out went right to both of your cores and it began a second sleepless night in a row for you and Joel. But, neither of you would complain at all.
#SpaceSistersSecretValentine#x reader#reader insert#joel miller#joel miller x reader#joel miller x you#joel miller x y/n#joel miller x f!reader#joel miller x female reader#joel miller imagine#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller fic#joel miller fanfic#joel tlou#joel the last of us#joel the last of us x reader#joel tlou x reader#pedro pascal fandom#pedro pascal characters#pedro pascal cinematic universe#the last of us fic#the last of us fanfic#the last of us fanfiction#tlou fanfic#tlou fanfiction#tlou fic#pedrostories#pedro pascal character fanfiction
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I want you, but… [Ghost x reader (platonic)]
Summary: Ghost doesn’t like to see you date someone else. But when he has the chance to get what he wants, his common sense wins.
Note: We’re all sad bitches in this house (that’s me, I’m the sad bitch) so no happy ending. Ghost, I love you, but you’re an idiot. / If you want to know when I post new stuff, follow @unreliablesnakefics and hit the get notifications button.
Part 2
Ghost usually isn’t the jealous type, but with you it takes very little to lose his cool. You’ve never been together, he knew he had no right to be mad at guys who flirted with you, he had no right to be angry with you for letting them, but it still happened sometimes.
One of the new doctors at base who treated your wound was really nice to you. Ghost was there, he volunteered to escort you to sick bay, making sure you didn’t collapse on the way, and when he saw the way the doc was looking at you, the kind, humorous way he was talking to you, he immediately knew what this was all about.
You didn’t seem to mind the attention, in fact you encouraged him by keeping up the playful conversation despite being in pain. Ghost took a hesitant step forward, planning to ask how you were, if he could bring you something, anything that could break the spell you were under, but he changed his mind last minute. He should keep his distance, he had no right to stand in the way.
He had been more irritated lately as he had been before. Johnny’s usual jokes simply went over his head, he didn’t even feel like being around others. You and that doctor got pretty close, pretty fast, and there was nothing he could do to stop this relationship from blooming.
Ghost picked up women for one night only, trying to forget you at least until he was fucking someone else, but all he could think about was you. Your smile, your laugh, your stupid sense of humor. He missed you, especially when you were both back home and there was no way for him to reach you.
All he could do was stalk you on social media. You barely posted photos of yourself, but when he saw a picture of you and–based on the size of the hand–a man clinking glasses at a bar probably, his heart sank. You were happy with someone else, feeling so confident about the relationship that you were ready to share it with your family and friends.
But then he checked the caption. “Sometimes ‘let’s stay friends’ isn’t an empty promise.”
He sat up in bed and reread the sentence. Did this mean you broke up? Hope filled his heart at the thought, even though he wasn’t sure how this could help him. He was your superior, the two of you getting together would cause a scandal for sure. Price wouldn’t be happy, the others might begin to believe he would play favorites with you, so everything pointed in the direction that you could never be together.
A few weeks later you were back on a mission together, and Ghost didn’t really know what to do. He was nervous around you, always carefully thinking about what to say before opening his mouth.
One evening Soap pulled out a bottle of booze from his bag, inviting the core team for a drink to relax a little. That one bottle turned into two, then three, the number growing because you were having fun together and apparently everyone brought something to drink just in case.
“So what’s with you and that doctor?” Gaz asked out of nowhere, almost causing the lieutenant to choke on his drink.
His eyes were glued to you, and your eyes traveled from one person to another until they locked with his amber ones. “It didn’t work out,” you admitted before turning to Gaz again. “Also, he’s going back to a civilian hospital. Less stress, he said. But I’m not sad or anything.”
“He doesn’t know what he’s missing out on,” Soap noted casually as he raised his glass.
Around one in the morning Price told everyone to go to sleep, saying they all needed some rest to sober up. While Price, Soap and Gaz left, you stayed behind with Ghost, your hands folded behind your back as you watched him with an anxious smile. The lieutenant didn’t really know what to say to you, so he decided to remain silent.
Even though he turned his back to you, he could still feel your gaze on him. “What is it?” he asked when he turned around to face you.
You inhaled then exhaled slowly in an attempt to calm yourself. But then you took a hesitant step towards him and said, “Are you happy that I broke up with him?”
“Why would I be happy?”
“You liked the photo I posted weeks ago. You know, the one about let’s stay friends. Also, there’s another thing,” you began, but you stopped talking. Ghost raised an eyebrow, waiting for you to continue. “Peter told me something that made me think. He said you were giving him death glares ever since he first talked to me in your presence after I got hurt on the field.”
Fuck, he had noticed. It’s not like he tried to hide it, but he sure wasn’t expecting the doctor to pay so much attention to him. What was he supposed to say? That yeah, well, I’m sorry, but he wasn’t good enough for you? In the end he let out a long sigh and put a hand on the back of his neck.
“I hope he didn’t break up with you because of that,” he noted quietly.
You raised an eyebrow at this in question. “What makes you think he was the one who broke up with me? Maybe it was me who let him go.”
“Did you?” You nodded. “Why?”
“Maybe there’s a big, scary guy I would rather spend my time with,” you replied with a playful smile.
Ghost wanted to kiss you so badly it hurt, but he kept his urges under control. When he stepped a little closer to you, you did the same, and eventually you closed the gap between you. He reached out to push a stray strand of hair behind your ear, watching as your breath caught in your throat from surprise.
After gulping loudly, you reached out to take his hand. “Was he right? Do you like me, lieutenant?”
“It doesn’t matter. I’m your higher-up, it wouldn’t work anyway. Go to sleep,” he told you, even though this was killing him.
He could see the signs. He could pinpoint the exact moment your heart shattered into pieces because of his response. Biting on your lower lip to stop yourself from crying, you nodded and left him standing there, making him hate himself more than ever before.
#simon ghost riley#simon riley#ghost#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#ghost x reader#mw2#call of duty#modern warfare#the whole dating the doctor thing might come from me having a stupid crush on the doctor who treats my wound
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addressing the drama (with receipts)
I wanted to have my ducks in a row before speaking out instead of just responding; I’m not doing this to change anyone’s opinions - it’s really not possible change someone’s perception of me even if it’s based on falsehoods - but I need to do this so I know I’ve said and shown what needs to be shown, and people can do with it what they please.
To the readers and writers who have blocked me, unfollowed me, and mutuals who have stopped talking to me over this - I’m really, really sad you didn’t come to me first and give me the opportunity to explain what was going on. I understand if you wanted to distance yourself from drama but I also need you to understand that this was not discourse-drama I willingly got myself into. This was a month of frequent harassment and slander that eventually turned into bullying by a group of people using false info, hiding behind side blogs and anons, and I hoped it would blow over but it never seemed to stop. With anons turned off for most of the last two months, people have gone to my friends’ inboxes instead to harass them about me (and insult them in the process), and I can’t do this anymore.
I feel so alienated and disliked in this community that I can’t go on the dash without feeling like I shouldn’t interact with anyone out of fear that they’ll get uncomfortable seeing me in their notifs. People keep saying they want the community to get better and then they jump on the bandwagon of vague posting and RBing without taking a second to verify the claims, clearly not realizing how much hurt it causes to perpetuate it. If you’re reading this, I hope your name isn't the next one they pull out of the hat when they want someone new to push off the platform.
Explanations, timelines and receipts below.
-
For anyone waiting for an explanation regarding the posts and anons about me that have circulated for weeks, or waiting for receipts proving or disproving that I’m a mean girl who spends my time talking shit, here you go. I am so beyond hurt, I don’t even know what to say. I’m floored, I’m so disappointed in this community and I’m so sad. In the last two weeks, I stayed up until 4am one night receiving screenshots of posts and anons about me, I cried, I tried to understand why this has happened to me, and I have sat here day after day with no answers.
If you think I’m being melodramatic, try losing a quarter of your mutuals and having a bunch of people block you when you’ve had either no interaction with them or they’ve all been positive, and see how that feels, on top of constant rumors about you being a terrible person when you know you’ve barely had any negative interactions with anyone on the platform. I can’t be on tumblr any longer without exonerating myself and putting it out there that all of this has been one gigantic mess based on lies about me, seemingly compounded by grievances people have against Gracie (some one whose personal conversations have nothing to do with me). Either I do this, or I log out forever and only post on ao3, cause I feel like the fucking grim reaper here. Posts about me being an awful person are still circulating, despite the original post being deleted and the follow up stating that the OP has talked to me and they have apologized.
I’m not naming names in this. I will be using person A/B/C/D to make it less confusing. I’ve removed identifying information from the screenshots because even though I’m hurt by these people, I know that they will get dogpiled and harassed if I identify them, and I want it all to stop. Several have apologized to me and I have accepted.
Sometime in December, rumors started circulating that there was a “big/elite writers discord” where they talked shit about small writers (I’m not in any discords specifically for writers and I have never heard of such a server). At about the same time, person A - someone who was very active in my own, now-deleted discord server, started frequently vagueposting about me, calling me a mean girl and, intentionally or not, made it seem like I was part of this “elite group of writers”. This is someone who I have never had a negative interaction with and who seemingly out of nowhere decided that I call myself elite and I’m a terrible person.
Person B had some grievances with myself, Iris, and Gracie it seemed, so they went to person C and accused us of talking shit in our voice chats. I assume person A and B have talked about me at some point and validated each other’s claims, but I can't know that for sure. Person B messaged me from a burner account and apologized, then seemingly deleted the account after I responded.
Gracie frequently posted about us three chatting, and although I understand this might have felt alienating to some, many writers are open about having group chats with each other. All we did was write, edit, and Gracie sometimes made memes. We talked about non-fic stuff often, and when Gracie had an issue with other writers and she was upset, we talked about it. That’s what friends do. She knows that I believe those situations were handled poorly. One of those situations came to light recently - I had a very pleasant conversation with the writer involved, and we are still in touch.
I have spoken to person C, who posted the most “popular” smear post about me and some of my friends. They retracted their statements and profusely apologized to us, admitting it was based on stuff they heard from person B, showing me screenshots of the conversation. However, their original posts are still circulating through reblogs despite being deleted from their account.
Person D also posted about me and my friends, however their post was sort of ridiculous, accusing me of spending more time replying to anons than writing. I found this funny, but the way they slut shamed my friend was absolutely not humorous, and dragging a random writer in to criticize them was a strange attempt at adding fuel to the fire.
-
And for the receipts,
I blocked person A after seeing a handful of vague posts clearly about me, and after they interacted with every single rude anon posted about me that I saw. I think that’s reasonable, no? I’m not gonna post screenshots of their posts cause I honestly just don’t want to look at them again, they make me feel kind of sick if I'm honest, but if anyone doesn’t believe me, they are welcome to DM me and I will send.
Person B messaged me, admitted to partaking in this mess, and apologized. This is part of a LONG message:
Person C apologized over message and called me on discord. We had a conversation clearing things up, they deleted their posts and wrote a public apology.
If you need any proof that person B’s claims were, in fact, baseless, look at this exchange between person B and person C after person C had cleared things up with me.
Person D honestly just creeps me out, cause what the fuck is this? Fine if you don’t like me based on my writing or my persona on here but… Why the witch hunt?
ETA: Person C asked person D to take down their post and they never responded. This was sent prior to that, I know the full context, I just thought this specific part was worth sharing to show how vile some people allow themselves to be behind burner accounts.
What kind of behavior is this? This was from a sideblog, and I don't know what their main account is. It creeps me the fuck out knowing this person is lurking somewhere in the community.
I have hated every moment of this. None of this has been fun for me. This has completely fucked up my motivation to write and my enjoyment of it, it has made me anxious, it has messed with my self esteem, and it has made me want to log out of Tumblr and not come back.
Please, I beg, if you have an issue with me, just come to me and I promise I will have a conversation with you. You can’t tell people’s tone over anon and I don’t think that’s a good way to have a conversation, especially one about something that should be solved in private, so they remain off, but my DM’s are open.
I'm so sick of seeing vagueposts and trying to decipher if they're about me. Having to do that a bunch of times messes with your head.
I'm not sure what to do moving forward, but I needed to say my piece. I don't want to talk about this again, I want to put this behind me. I seriously hope this doesn't wreck my last remaining want to share my writing on here.
Thanks again to everywhere who has supported me in my DMs and comments, you mean the world to me 🤍🤍🤍 And if you found yourself duped by all this but change your opinion on me now or eventually, I won't hold a grudge, and I'm happy to speak again and pick up where we left off.
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𝑬𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒚𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝑺𝒖𝒏𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒆
𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 — lloyd hansen x fem!reader
𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚 — you get into a fight with Lloyd because once again he got too overprotective/jealous which ends up in you ignoring him, but he try everything, and I mean everything to get you to talk to him
𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 — SMUT, oral sex, praise kink, choking, mention of killing, idk what else, minors dni
𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆 — sooo we have a beautiful lloyd hansen here who will do everything for you just so you aren't mad at him anymore...@georgiapeach30513, follow @sstanhoe-updates to get notifications everytime I post!!!! It's literally 2:25 am in my country right now and I'm tired as fuck but wanted to finish this so sorry for any errors or whatever, like, comment and reblog!
The moment you entered a relationship with Lloyd Hansen – actually even before that – you knew that he was a jealous and overprotective person. That it would be this bad or get out of control you never expected.
“I was just talking to him Lloyd!” you shouted while strutting through the door of your shared home. Lloyd was right behind you having the same pissed expression on his face as you. “First of all, he was way too close, he undressed you with his eyes and when you backed off, he came even closer.”
Lloyd wasn’t completely wrong, you were uncomfortable, and the man didn’t listen however, “that doesn't mean you have to kill him.” It also wasn’t the first time either.
“You were overreacting,” you added as you walked in the kitchen with Lloyd hot on your heels. “Overreacting? Bold of you to say, aren’t you overreacting right now? I kill people for a living and that doesn’t seem to faze you though.”
“Well, I can’t really tell you to stop,” he was right it didn’t faze you but to you there was a difference between acting out of jealousy and acting because it is your job, “it’s your job after all.”
“It is also my job to protect you,” Lloyd argued. Your back was turned to him while you tried to distract yourself with cleaning the kitchen isle. His hands grabbed your waist firmly turning you around to face him. You looked up into his blue eyes, they were like an ocean consuming you, letting you get lost in their beauty.
“That may be what you’re thinking, but that doesn't justify your actions…there is a difference between telling someone off and killing him,” you sigh. Lloyd gently took your chin between his fingers.
“Sunshine, I would do everything for you.” No, no you had to stay strong, that was the only way he would learn his lesson.
“Well then stop killing people that aren’t part of your job,” with that you wiggled out of his arms walking away. “I just told you protecting you is my job!” His words went ignored by you as you loudly shut the door of the bedroom.
Lloyd sighed to himself rubbing his temple. Of course, he knew what he did was wrong, but he couldn’t control himself around you and certainly not when a man flirted with you or made you uncomfortable.
You buried your face in your hands as you sat down on the bed. You needed a battle plan, Lloyd needed to learn that he couldn’t just kill someone for flirting with you or making you uncomfortable. Yes, that person needed to be punished as well but isn’t sitting in jail worse?
Death was a blessing, jail a punishment and what if he had family?
A soft knock on the door pulled you from your thoughts, “sunshine I’m sorry, can we please make up?” Lloyd’s voice called through the door. ‘Make up’ meant sex and while make up sex was a great thing most of the time the problem wasn’t completely solved.
So, this time no make up sex. You didn’t answer him, you just laid down on your side of the bed trying to ignore his voice.
You heard how he opened the door a few minutes later, “sunshine I’m really sorry, please.”
He acted like a kicked puppy, you rolled your eyes because he always did this, and you always forgave him then seconds later he would be on his knees eating you out.
You felt the bed shift as he sat down. Lloyd lovingly put his hand on the curve of your waist wanting to turn you around, but you stopped him by taking his wrist and removing his hand from you.
Lloyd let you. That was one thing you were incredibly grateful for, Lloyd never pushed you or forced you into anything and if you didn’t want him to touch you right now that he wouldn’t.
“I’ll make you something for dinner, the pasta that you like so much.” You knew Lloyd hated cooking however you loved his pasta, you didn’t know what it was that he did, but his noodles always tasted better than yours.
“She can be lucky I love her…” “I didn’t even do anything wrong, I was protecting her.” “Yeah, maybe a bit much but that asshole deserved it.”
A small giggle escaped your lips as you heard Lloyds muffled complaints. You didn’t exactly know what he was doing until fifteen minutes later he appeared in the room again with a bowl of spaghetti topped with tomato sauce and basil. It smelled delicious.
Lloyd rounded the bed and put the bowl on the nightstand, “I made your favourite pasta.”
You ignored him which hurt him, but he didn’t act like it, “least you could do is say ‘thank you Lloyd for being such a great boyfriend’.”
Typical Lloyd. Normally you would thank him with a blowjob for making you your pasta, but you weren’t in the mood for that right now hence why he said ‘at least’. He waited for few seconds, then sighed and left.
Waiting until the door closed you sat up taking the bowl in your lap and began eating. A moan left you lips as you tasted the pasta which was as delicious as ever.
Lloyd who stood on the other side of the door and heard you, had a grin on his face. He knew you couldn’t resist him for long when he made you the pasta.
Well, he shouldn’t have said that too early.
The evening came and you still hadn’t left the room which confused Lloyd but the moment he looked inside the bedroom he knew why. You were asleep, the bowl being empty stood on the nightstand.
He shook his head and went back to the kitchen where he finished up cleaning. The left-over pasta was put in one portion container and got refrigerated.
The next morning came, and you laid cuddled up in your bed, the soft blanket and cushions hugging you like a cocoon. Lloyd was right next to you having nothing but a pillow under his head.
You were a blanket stealer and felt guilty everytime you noticed that you stole the blanket. So even on his day off he woke up earlier than you and gently took his blanket back and when you woke up you were happy you didn’t steal his blanket once again.
This morning was no different. He opened his eyes rubbing out the sleep, his body turned towards you. Smiling softly as he observed your sleeping form, never in his life had he seen someone, something as beautiful as you.
After taking the blanket he went back to sleep.
Only an hour later you woke up, just like Lloyd you turned around to face him or well the empty side of the bed.
His absence gave you time to rethink the past day and how this one would go depended on you boyfriend.
Your plan on ignoring him would continue until he properly apologized or until you saw him suffering enough.
With a yawn you got out of bed. You walked over to the mirror looking at your reflection.
God, you hoped your plan would work and Lloyd wouldn’t fuck you over the kitchen counter. You were only wearing his shirt and a thong.
Taking a deep breath, you walked into the kitchen were he was standing making breakfast in only his boxers. His back was facing giving you the perfect view on his ass, as he moved around his ass perfect with him causing you to bite your lip.
He heard you coming in and turned around, just in time you changed your expression into a blank stare.
“Good morning sunshine,” he grinned at you, but your expression didn’t change. “Oh, come on you’re still mad at me?”
Without saying a thing, you sat down on the table where he had already set the table.
“What do you want to do today? I have nothing on my plate today, we could go for a walk in the park, bake some cookies…” you raised a brow at his proposals. Lifting your fork, you gestured to the rainy weather outside as he mentioned the walk.
His eyes drifted to the window, “yeah maybe no walk but…you said your back was hurting, I could give you a massage!” Lloyd said with enthusiasm.
You looked at him sceptical, but he was already on his feet taking your hand to lead you to the living room. “You strip and lay there while I get the oil,” he instructed you. Shrugging you did as he told.
A minute later Lloyd was back with the oil in hand. He let it flow down your back and then gently rubbed it in. Kneading your soft skin at your back down around the waist.
It felt good, so good that a sigh escaped your lips as he pressed his thumbs down and whatever he hit was damn good. His hands moved up caressing your skin before manipulating the muscles in your shoulders until he heard a satisfying pop.
A gasp came past your lips, feeling the knot dissolve. “That one was good, wasn't sunshine?”
You tried to nod your head on the pillow. Lloyd moved his hands back down to your ass, kneading the flesh with pleasure.
He rested his head on your shoulder, right next to your ear. “Don’t think I didn't notice you staring at my ass this morning...,” he whispered, the edge of his moustache tickling against the shell of your ear.
Lloyd gave your ass a spank causing your body to jump up in fright, you weren't expecting that.
No, well actually with Lloyd you never know.
You bumped your head against Lloyd's making him lift his head, “that wasn't nice,” he muttered rubbing the side of his head though you both knew it didn't hurt him.
You stood up – completely naked – and walked back to the bedroom to get dressed.
Lloyd was left behind. He sat down on the couch running a hand over his face trying to think of something that would make you talk to him.
“I made her the pasta, made her breakfast, gave her a massage...what else can I do? Well she won't let me eat her out in that state, but that could do it though I need something to get her there,” he thought out loud.
Lloyd went through everything he could think of; new clothes, a purse, shoes, jewellery, a trip to Disneyland but he would say yes to everything of that so what could it be?
“Oh, what the shit,” he cursed as it downed on him. You always wanted a cat, a Maine Coon specifically and he always said no.
With a deep, very deep sigh he pulled his phone from the couch table, searching for a Maine Coon kitten on the Internet. To his surprise, he actually found a cat that he could get today, but he needed cat things.
Okay; he could get the scratch tree tomorrow with you – if the plan worked –, just like another water bowl and the cat toys. Lloyd already knew you would spoil the cat.
“Sunshine I’m going grocery shopping!” He shouted through the apartment. You were still getting dressed and furrowed your brows. Didn't the two of you just go yesterday?
Lloyd drove to the pet store to buy a litter box, cat food – dry and wet –, two toys, a cat carrier, one food and water bowl, a blanket for the box and cat litter.
“Who knew a cat needed all that shit?” He said as he got in the car two hours and four hundred dollars later.
Instantly he drove to the address of the cat breeder. He rang the doorbell waiting impatiently.
An elderly woman with grey hair that was put in a bun opened the door, “you must be the man who wants to adopt the kitten today!” She said happily inviting him in.
“Yep, that's me...where is he?” Lloyd asked as he stepped inside the old home. The woman must have been living here for at least fifty years by the looks of it. “Here he is, the little cutie,” the woman came back with a light orange cat that was at least 80 centimetres from snout to tail.
“How old did you say was he?” Lloyd asked, did those cats really get this big?
“One year and a half, he will still grow a bit but he's fully vaccinated and sterilized so no need to worry.” She sat the cat down.
The cat had a long orange tail, his belly, chest, snout and the tip of his paws were shiny white, he had amber-coloured eyes that matched his fur perfectly and he had brush ears that made him look like a lynx.
Even Lloyd had to admit, that this cat is beautiful. “Does he already have a name?” “Yes, his name is Aramis,” she explained.
He got down on his knees to pet the cat and couldn't stop the smile on his soft lips, “yeah I'll take him.”
With that they gently put Aramis in the transportation box in which laid a blanket. The woman gave Lloyd a few treats for him as a gift, “how much for him?” was his last question.
“750 euros,” she stated. Lloyd cursed under his breath, that cat was expensive and god you could be happy he loved you.
After four hours Lloyd was finally back home and found you on the couch eating ice cream.
“Sunshine, I know you're mad and I can't apologise enough so I thought maybe I will gift you something.” He stood there proud of himself in the doorway while you looked at him a big question mark above your head.
With a big grin he opened the door wider revealing Aramis in his transportation box.
Your eyes widened in shook, he bought you a cat, a cat! A Maine Coon like you always wanted. Lloyd set his ego aside and bought you a cat.
Now you couldn’t stay mad anymore. You ran over to him jumping into his arms, “you got a cat, you got me freaking cat!” You squealed and pressed your lips to his.
He snaked his arms around your waist, pulling you against his chest. “I'm sorry for how I acted with the man, I will do better I promise. You are the most important person in my life and I would do everything for you sunshine.”
A miau broke your heartfelt moment and got you back to reality. You wiggled out of Lloyd's arms and opened the box while Lloyd closed the door.
“I've got his things in the car, be right back.”
As Lloyd went downstairs again you befriended the cat. Letting him explore the apartment and sniff on everything. The first thing your boyfriend brought was the litter and box so he could see where he had to go.
Next was the rest which Lloyd unpacked and put everywhere it fitted. The food not next to the water and the toys all around while you followed Aramis.
When he was finished, he found the two of you in the bedroom. “That is Aramis by the way and his one and a half years old, vaccinated and sterilized.” “When did you plan this?” You asked as you scratched Aramis head who was already purring with delight.
“after your massage today,” he shrugged. You laughed at his answer, typical.
“I have a really important question sunshine...can we have sex again? Not getting to taste you this night and in the morning was hell”
Quickly you covered Aramis ears, “shhh! You can't say this in front of him!”
Lloyd rolled his eyes, but let it be for the moment.
The day came to an end and Lloyd finally had you alone given that you spend the rest of the day with Aramis. He closed the bedroom door to prevent the cat from getting in.
You stood in front of the mirror taking of your bra as you got pushed back on the bed, “now sunshine, it's time you give me my pussy.”
Lloyd pulled down your panties and stroked over you cunt with hungry eyes. His fingers rubbed down your juicy folds, “'lread so wet, this all for me?” You gave a strained nod as he entered you with middle finger.
“Mhm, one would think that after all this time would be stretched out but you're still as tight as a virgin...” Lloyd grinned while he added his ring finger.
Exploring your cunt he reached places that you could never even attempt to. His thumb rubbed your clit, “doing so good for me sunshine...you're gonna cum from a bit of fingering?” yes, yes you were but before you could let the knot in you stomache go Lloyd pulled his hands from you.
“You only cum on my tounge and with my permission tonight.”
His words make you shudder as you try to hold back a whine at the empty feeling.
“Lloyd please, make me cum, taste me, eat me...fuck please do something,” he gave you that shit eating grin for those words and dipped instantly down burying his face between your legs.
His tongue laps at your cunt, making your back arch against the bed. A pornografic moan left your mouth as Lloyd fucked you deeper with his tongue.
“Just like that, Lloyd,” you whine, “never stop, please.”
He put the hand laced with you wetness around your throat, your moans turned into whines as you bucked your hips up chasing your release. “Can I cum please? Please let me cum!” “Not yet sunshine.”
“You have been such a good girl so far...don't ruin it now sunshine,”
Adding his fingers, his tongue moved to the bundle of nerves. Your walls tightened around his fingers letting him know you were close.
“Cum sunshine, cum for me...” and you did, it felt like a firework exploding in your stomache, your toes curled, lips parting into loud moan followed by a 'fuck Lloyd', your pussy clenching around his fingers.
You laid there panting with Lloyd next to when you heard a light scratch noise on the door, “Aramis! I have to let him in.”
Lloyd's hand catched your wrist, “but what about my dick?” You looked down his erected member in his boxers, “tomorrow yeah? It's his first night, I don't want him to be alone.” With that you let the cat in.
Aramis jumped on the bed laying down between you and Lloyd, “great now we can't even cuddle because of that assh–” “hey! you better watch your mouth, I will just put him to the side and lay in the middle but don't direct your anger at him.”
You squeezed yourself between the two and closed your eyes. In the meantime Lloyd had a staring contest with the orange cat, “you may be cute, but–” a fist hit his arm, breaking of his sentence.
“You better sleep now before you stay outside,” “Everything for you sunshine.”
When you woke up the next morning you saw Lloyd and Aramis cuddled up next to each other. Quickly you took your phone from the nightstand taking a picture.
#lloyd hansen x you#lloyd hansen smut#lloyd hansen x y/n#lloyd hansen#lloyd hansen x reader#lloyd hansen x black reader#lloyd hansen x fem!reader#lloyd hansen fic#lloyd hansen fanfiction#lloyd hansen fluff#lloyd hansen au#lloyd hansen angst#my bitch lloyd 👀
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The Campaign ~ Finale Sneak Peek
preview of The Campaign's final part
MDNI / 18+ / NSFW
a/n: hello my loves and happy valentine's day you filthy sluts 😼 I can't offer a full fic on this day of love and smut but I can give you a little something something from my faves. I can't promise when this will be out in full; life's been very busy (in a good way!). thank you for sticking around and I hope you enjoy 💞 wishing you all nothing but love!
update: OUT NOW READ HERE
💋 Jo
Aemond’s hand is held out before him, Jace’s necklace dangling from his slender fingers. The diamond J catches the light, sparkling. Your mouth goes dry, cheeks warming at the sight. Eyes lifting to meet his, you can’t find the words to speak.
“I’m sorry,” he starts, “Look….I never…this wasn’t…” Aemond takes a deep breath, steadying himself, “I’m not good at this.”
The J swings from the chain, a pendulum on a string. You can't stop staring at it, watching as it taunts you.
“I knew it,” you whisper, hand reaching up to your throat.
“It was just a game,” he insists, “Until it wasn’t.” Your eyes lift from the necklace, meeting his. “That night on the beach….” He lowers his arm. The pendulum swings. “Look if you don’t feel the same–”
Your stomach turns, the corners of your lips dipping into a frown.
“Go,” you breathe, barely audible.
Aemond tilts his head to the side and murmurs your name. Your eyes squeeze shut, chest tightening painfully as he does.
“I want you out.”
“What can I do?” he begs, “Please.”
“Go grovel to someone who cares,” you snap, eyes opening, a fresh wave of anger barrelling through you, “Storm’s End, perhaps? Seems like you have some making up to do with Floris.”
“I don’t fucking want Floris!” he snaps, “I want you.”
You freeze, breath-catching.
“You don't want her?” you ask and he shakes his head, “Did you fuck her?”
Aemond’s eye widens, a fraction of an inch but it's noticeable. A bitter laugh leaves your lips.
“It was before we–”
“You men are all the same,” you seethe, glaring at him, “Pretty words and no action. Of course you fucked her.”
“Y/N, it was before us, before we ever–look I haven’t so much as touched her since we–”
“Well then here’s your chance!” you interrupt, “Go make up for lost time; I’m sure she’s a wreck. Wallowing on her yacht just waiting for you to jump her bones.”
Aemond flinches as though you’d slapped him. “Stop it.”
“You’re so talented with that tongue, useless apologies included. It’d be a shame to let it go to waste–”
“Seven hells enough!”
His yell silences you. You stand before each other, chests heaving with anger. You can't stand him. You hate him. And though the voice in your head disagrees, you ignore it, setting your wine glass down on the counter.
“You want forgiveness?” you ask, cocking a brow at him, “Get on your knees.”
catch up with The Campaign here!
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#aemond x reader#aemond one eye#modern!aemond#modern!hotd#aemond targaryen x fem!reader#aemond targaryen x you#aemond x you#aemond targaryen imagine#aemond targaryen x y/n#modern!aemond x reader#modern!aemond targaryen#aemond/reader#aemond targaryen/reader#aemond fic#aemond x y/n#aemond fanfiction#hotd aemond#Aemond Targaryen modern#modern au#modern aemond#modern hotd
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🤔headcannons for poe with someone shy and quiet? we all know that boys a talker and a people person<3
Poe IS a people person. He is so easy to talk to.
But for the shiest person, even Mr. Charming Dameron has to make an effort.
And he's happy to.
He smiles a lot; he’s kind and encouraging
Poe endeavors to lower his personal volume around you. But sometimes his boisterous laugh gets away from him.
He makes sure to mirror your body language. If you withdraw a step, so does he.
He saves you a seat in meetings or when it's time to eat. But he doesn't call out your name or wave you over. You can either take the seat or not. You know it's there for you.
During trainings, he quietly checks in with you once everyone is working on their own, in case you have any questions
But he doesn’t just assume your silence is confusion. In fact, he makes it a point to seek out your opinion or advice.
He finds you to be quite opinionated once your have the floor
He asks you open-ended questions. If he sees you stammer, he gives you a second. But if you get stuck, he just asks you something else instead.
Sometimes he’ll ramble on endlessly before he remembers that you might need some time or space to share your thoughts.
So he learns to be comfortable with silence.
These moments grant him an opportunity to study your profile, while you’re reading, stargazing, fixing something, concentrating. He relishes the chance to watch you unguarded.
Hushed moments with you are something he comes to cherish
He learns your interests and makes a point to ask you about them often.
He loves to witness your shy smile when you see him approaching - it’s like a secret between the two of you
After a while, you find you can hold his gaze a little longer
He loves to see you melt when his fingertips brush any available skin. He knows he's getting somewhere when your eyes flutter and dip, but you lean in for more
✧ ˚ · .✧ ˚ · .✧ ˚ · .✧ ˚ · .✧
1k/Holiday Celebration Main Post
1000 Follower/Holiday Celebration Masterlist
Poe Dameron Masterlist
Main Masterlist
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if patrick bateman were a woman
cowboy like me [bonus chapter]
surprise!! happy halloween!!!! may your day be spooky and your sex be filthy. here's a bonus chapter of clm to celebrate. love y'all
!!! despite being cowboy joel and his reader, this is not canon. does not happen in the cowboy like me series. i wish. it's just a little bit of spooky szn fun with my two favorite star-crossed lovers. !!!
pairing: dbf!joel miller x fem!reader
summary: sarah throws a halloween party. you and joel have a little too much fun.
warnings: as pwp as a macfrog fic can get, age gap (reader is 23, joel is 48), lil bit titty appreciation, a singular daddy mention, a single slice of degradation, but also praise kink, unprotected piv sex, creampie, it's set on halloween, alcohol consumption, cursing
word count: 4k
series masterlist | main masterlist | playlist | follow @macfroglets w notifs on to be the first to hear when i post 🧡
Ice, pretzels, lime juice. Ice, pretzels, lime juice.
I’m giving you one job. Ice, pretzels, lime juice. That’s it.
That sounds like three jobs, you’d said.
Sarah ignored you. Be here at seven, alright? Ice – pretzels – lime juice!
It’s seven thirty. You’re finally on her front porch. The tiny section of bare skin between your stockings and black skirt is pimpled with goosebumps. With each inhale you suck in the sickly-sweet scent of fake blood, splattered across your face. You have a bag of ice slung over one arm, a bag of pretzels balanced on top, a bottle of juice hanging from your fingers and an axe under your elbow.
Only – it’s not lime juice. And the axe is plastic.
Sarah opens the door and spots your blunder instantly. “That’s lemon.”
“I know. They didn’t have any lime.”
“They didn’t have any lime? Where the hell did you go?”
“It’s Halloween, Sarah. Everybody and their fucking grandma is drinking tonight. Lemon tastes the exact –”
“Ah!” She holds a finger up. Her red cape flutters in the breeze. “It does not taste the same. Otherwise, why would it be two separate things?”
“Hey, Wonder Woman,” you drone, “mind letting me in? I’m fucking freezing.”
She scoffs, and steps aside. Mutters, “’s not the same thing,” as you pass.
You click down the hall, head rolling to check out her decorating. The living room and kitchen are lit by constellations of tiny tealights, flickering and blinking and casting tall, warped shadows across the walls. There’s a purple neon sign sat against the wall that reads Spooky. By the fireplace sit the two pumpkins she and her boyfriend carved last night; she’d sent you photos and asked you to pick a winner. When you chose the Iron Man head over the silhouette of Tinkerbell, she sent back a middle finger emoji.
Y: It’s cleaner cut. What do you expect? Shoddy work, Miller.
S: asshole.
Sarah’s slotting the ice into the freezer. Struggling, by the sound of it. You swing back into the kitchen to find Wonder Woman on her ass, hammering her fist against the frozen pack to fit it in.
You’re about to offer help, when someone else does it for you. Someone lower, gravellier. A voice like thunder in the distance, a storm approaching.
“You need a hand?” he asks, and when you turn, you almost drop your fucking axe.
He glances to you as he emerges from the dark hallway, the warm glow licking at his graying flicks of hair, nestling in the deep-set lines on his face. His eyes dart down to where your fingers now clutch the plastic handle, holding it against the hem of your skirt like it’ll do anything to cover your modesty.
Your modesty, meaning – the line of sexy black lace curling around your thighs, snug against the supple skin.
What the fuck are you doing here? you mouth, as Joel paces across the kitchen towards his daughter.
He shrugs, palms outstretched. It’s my house?
You roll your eyes, run your tongue like lightning across your scarlet lips. Sarah straightens up, huffs hair from her face and stares blankly at Joel.
He bends, takes the entire bag in one huge palm, and reorganizes the drawer with the other. Your eye drifts to his bicep, flexing under the tight seam of a dark tee. The bag of ice cradled in his arm leaves weak little droplets, running down the tan skin to the crook of his elbow. You want to fucking lick them up, gather the frozen beads on your tongue, hike up up up to the curve of his shoulder, the crook of his neck, the –
“Hey.” Sarah clicks her fingers in front of your face. “You hearin’ me?”
“Huh? No, yeah. No. I wasn’t lis– What did you say?”
She sighs again. Joel groans as he pushes off his knee and stands tall behind her. Wipes the water from his arm with one swipe of his palm.
“Would you put these in a bowl?” his daughter asks, shoving the bag of pretzels into your suited chest. She shuffles off, announcing she’s going to pick a playlist for the night.
Suited is perhaps giving you too much credit. You’re in a mini skirt and waistcoat, a red tie slung loose around your neck. You’ve a clear poncho draped over your shoulders, but with the heat from the million and one fucking candles – and the flush that the forty-something-year-old with his wide frame and fitted sweatpants and toned chest and his big fucking hands has cast over you – it’ll soon be discarded to the newel post.
But when you reach up for the bowl on the top shelf of the cabinet, pushing forward with a palm on the countertop, the marble digging into your pelvis and forcing your ass to jut out – you think yourself pretty fucking smug to be in a skirt that hugs your cheeks and not much else.
You turn, the lip of the bowl in your fingers, and smile sweetly at Joel, whose gaze returns north as you approach him.
“You got nothin’ better to do with your night than babysit a bunch of twenty-five-year-olds?” you murmur, spilling the bag into the blue bowl. You place a pretzel on your tongue, humming at the taste.
Joel smiles, popping the cap off his beer. He spills the amber liquid into his mouth. “I’ll be in my room.”
Your eyebrows lift. “That so? You need any company in there?”
“Nope. Rangers game is on. I’ll be busy.”
The words ghost across your lips. You’ll be busy, you breathe. Joel nods. Then looks you up and down.
“American Psycho?”
“What?”
He flicks his wrist up and down your figure. “What’s his name, again? Pat–”
“Patrick Bateman,” you say together. You nod.
“That’s the one.” Then he turns, leans his jaw nearer until his lips line with your ear. Your eyes shoot across to the empty doorway. Sarah’s skipping song after song in the living room.
Joel’s finger slips beneath the lace trim of your stockings, tugging gently. “I don’t remember ‘im in these, though,” he says, voice low.
You gulp. Swallow to push your heart back into place. “Well,” you glance down, lifting your thigh closer to him, “if he were a woman, he woulda dressed like this.”
“That’s somethin’ I’d like to see,” Joel murmurs, eyes locked on the place where lace separates from skin.
“Yeah?”
He nods. Growls, “Yeah.”
And then he’s walking away.
Within an hour, the house is jumping. Literally. Almost.
You sit at the kitchen island, sipping on a beer, staring down the hall at the sea of bodies – of nylon and polyester, of purples and oranges, of headbands and props and cloaks and hats. There are a lot more than forty people here – a lot more than Sarah intended to turn up.
A lot more than you know, too. She’s barely even four years younger than you, but most of these kids look like they just walked out of middle school. Of the handful of faces you recognize, one is sat opposite you, his arm draped over Sarah’s shoulder, her hand locked in his. She and Ty have been dating for a year now, surviving long-distance when she jets back off to school every few months.
The other you know, unfortunately for you, is swaying by your side. Leaning a little too heavily into you. Asking you questions about college, and then talking over your answers to tell you stories about his college. Asking you questions about films you like, and then interrupting to gawk at the titles you reel off. The only times he doesn’t jump in over your answer, are the times he’s asking who you think might win in a fight between prime Mike Tyson and prime Muhammad Ali. And that’s only because you don’t have an answer to give him.
Jace. Ty’s best friend. Fucking – loser.
“And who the fuck are you s’posed to be, anyways?” he asks, slinging a heavy arm over your shoulder. He reeks of beer, warm and stale. His jaw’s swinging, cheeks popping and suckling on a shriveled piece of gum.
You scowl, shrugging the uncomfortable weight from the nape of your neck. “Patrick Bateman,” you mutter.
“Who?”
“Christian Bale. You know, when he –” Sarah mimes lifting an axe over her shoulder, takes a swing through the air, across the island to Jace.
“No fucking idea,” he says, shaking his head. You’re not surprised.
“Where’s your axe?” Ty asks, as Sarah nuzzles back into his side.
You shrug. “Saw someone using it to stir the punch earlier. ‘s probably in the toilet or something.”
He laughs, flashing his dimpled cheeks. He’s got glistening eyes beneath long, black eyelashes. He’s handsome. Sharp jaw, full lips. Sarah links her fingers at his side, plants her cheek against his shoulder. She’s comfortable. She’s safe. Your chest warms at the sight.
He squeezes her arm, and they share a meaningful glance before there’s a yell from across the kitchen, and their attention is diverted.
When they turn to watch two of Sarah’s high school friends sword-fighting, wielding a plastic lightsaber and your axe, you slink off, swiping two beers from the fridge. Swift and silent, you scale the stairs and fade into the darkened hallway at the top, in pursuit of your own dark-eyed, sharp-jawed comfort.
The sliver of light at the end of the hall draws you in, footsteps silent along the soft carpet. Up here, tucked away in the corner of the house, far from the rattling music and rumble of boisterous chatter – you can hear the soft roar of a crowd, the crack of ball against bat.
Your hip nudges the door open, trickle of condensation running over your knuckles. Joel’s eyes are already on you. He’s laying on his bed, legs outstretched, knee cocked. One arm lies idly on his thigh. You get the feeling he shifted it quickly when he saw the door move.
He balances his chin on the end of the remote, purses his lips and lifts his head. “Now,” he mumbles, “you’re s’posed to be downstairs.”
You shrug, holding the bottles up. “Thought you might need a top-up.”
His eyes thin. He sits up straight, swings his legs over the edge of the bed. You come to a stop between his knees, holding the beer down to him. He hums, taking it with his eyes locked on yours.
“Thanks, darlin’,” he says, and his eyes begin to drift down.
You tilt your head back at the same time he does, lifting the lip of your own bottle. The cold drink washes over your tongue, bitter and blunt in its taste, leaving a furry feeling on your gums. When your chin lowers again, Joel’s hand is on the back of your thigh.
He’s staring at the two knolls between you – your breasts round, nipples peaking under the tight waistcoat.
“Welcome,” you reply, swirling the liquid around in the curved glass. Your voice is barely there. But he hears you, and he must hear the want laced deep through that one quiet word, because he instantly slides his beer onto his nightstand.
He curves both hands around your thighs, fingers lifting higher and higher between your legs until they’re crossing over lace and onto bare skin.
You shuffle forward, leaning your arms on his shoulders and propping your knees on the bed either side of his body. Your skirt rides up, exposing the shard of shocking red lace beneath the pinstripe material.
Joel sees it. Like it’s a rag and he’s a bull. It charges something deep inside him. Something that awakens beneath the thin line of fabric between your legs.
You can feel your pulse in your clit. Fluttering, fucking – hammering. Your cunt feels painfully empty, clenching around nothing. Joel’s palms surf across the tops of your thighs until his fingers are teetering along the hem of your skirt.
“Off,” he instructs, swatting the poncho away.
You shake it from your shoulders the same way you shook the blond downstairs off. Joel nods as the material crumples to the floor. He hooks a hand under your knee and yanks your body closer to his. You almost throw the beer bottle across his bed.
“J– fucking hell, my –”
“Shut up,” he clips, and grabs the beer from your grasp to deposit it alongside his own.
His hands find the tiny buttons of your waistcoat, fingers slip through the gaps between them where your skin peeks through. You can feel his hot breath on your chest. A wave of need washes over you, a desire from deep within your marrow to feel him everywhere. His breath, his tongue, his hands. All of him.
Your entire body weight rests on his shoulders, your fingers locking his shirt in two tight fists. Joel doesn’t seem to mind. Barely seems to notice. He pulls apart the first button, watches with a dark gaze as your breasts spill over. The second button pops open easily, and they bounce lower. When he unhooks the third, they drop into place, nipples pointed, welcoming him in between them.
“Dirty fuckin’ girl,” he whispers as he leans in, mouth flattening against the smooth skin between them. “No bra or nothin’.”
“Knew you’d be here,” you reply, head rolling back as he licks a trail across to the darker flesh of your nipple. His lips close around it and he suckles gently. Your nails dig into his scalp.
He pushes the waistcoat over your shoulders and it drops to the carpet, pooled inside the shell of poncho. As soon as it falls, his hands begin the climb up the seam of your thigh, resting on the brush of red – where he feels the quickly dampening mark on the fabric.
“Thought as much,” he says, head cocking to watch your expression warp as he rubs slow circles into your clit. His voice is as soft as his touch, innocent almost, when he asks, “She like that?”
“Ye-ah,” you choke, leaning back.
“Yeah,” he agrees, and uses his other hand to fish beneath his sweatpants. He rubs himself under the gray cotton, watches as your fingers clutch at the waistband to tug it down, releasing him.
His heavy cock springs up between your bodies, dabs precome on the pointed tail of your tie. You giggle, loosening the knot and pulling the thin silk over your head. Your hands wrap around him, twisting and pumping and dragging the milky arousal from his slit down the smooth, warm skin. Joel’s breath catches when your thumbs swipe across his head.
His fingers slip behind your knees and pull them apart, pull them wider on the mattress. You lean forward, chest brushing against his parted lips, taking your panties in one hand and guiding him along your slit with the other.
You cover him in your arousal, the veined skin soon slick and pearlescent. His wide head slips between your opening, notching against your entrance and forcing the breath from your lungs.
His hands sit firmly on your waist, pushing down on your hips, pushing and pushing until he sinks snug into your cunt. When he pauses, his mouth agape and eyes stuck on the sight of his body connecting to yours, you whine.
“More,” you mewl, voice dripping with need, drizzling all over him.
“We gotta –”
“More.”
“Baby,” Joel says, voice flat but crumbling. “We gotta go slow. I’m gonna – You’re gonna make me come, dressed like that, if we go too quick.”
But fuck, you want to feel him. Want him to buck his hips and fill you in one go – fuck the pain. Fuck the discomfort, fuck the way your walls would clamp in a vice grip around him. You want him to fuck you. Want to be fucked so good that you have to time your moaning with the bassline of the music downstairs, unable to contain the sounds in your throat. Fucked so good that you waddle out of the room, that you fling yourself back onto the couch and wince in pain, a sharp memory of the breadth of him shooting between your legs.
Your hips circle, the heat of your cunt swirling around and around on his tip. He groans, hands tightening on your waist to hold you still.
“Stop it, darlin’,” he growls, the words clawing from between his teeth.
“F-fuck me, then,” you moan, curling your back to slowly edge down on him.
“Ask nicer.”
You smile, heavy lids falling closed. “Please?”
His hands roam around the curve of your ass. He starts to push again. “Nicer.”
Your mouth opens wider the further he slides into you. The more he claims of your body, the further you open for him, the warmer your welcome. Your head tips back, eyes tighten until you see stars. When you feel a weight around your neck, you flutter your lashes open, blink the cyan-colored sparkles from your vision.
Joel pulls your jaw back down to face him. Squeezes on your pulse, holding you between his middle finger and thumb.
“Nicer,” he demands.
You lean in, small hands linking around his thick wrist. “Fuck me, please, daddy,” you whisper.
And he smiles like a fucking devil. Eyes drawn black like ink. He pulls you in until your chin brushes against the rough bristle of his own, lines his bottom lip with yours.
Into your mouth, he asks, “You think you can take it, babygirl? Think it’ll fit?”
You nod desperately, anchoring yourself on his wrist. “Know it will.”
He’s only halfway in. Your heartbeat is thudding around your body, focusing hardest on your clit. Your hips move again, and Joel allows it, sitting back to watch as you sink down further.
“Go on,” he says, watching your body slowly attach to his, “’f you think you can do it. Be a big girl ‘n take it. Slow.”
Something caught between a laugh and a whimper drags between your painted lips – something dripping in desire, built from a need to prove yourself to him, to take all of him inside your body, to feel him in the deepest parts of yourself. You push on him, loosen his grip around your neck and flatten your palms on his chest. And you curve your back, pushing him deeper.
“’s my girl,” Joel says, quietly, as if to himself. “This what you wanted? Comin’ up here, dressed like that?”
Your teeth hold onto your bottom lip. “Like what?” you purr, leaning forward until your noses brush.
Joel tips his chin up, lips flush against yours. “Like a little fuckin’ slut.”
You laugh weakly, feeling him finally in his entirety. “Fuck.”
Joel’s hands take your waist, pushing you down until the pain sends bolts of lightning across your vision. The bruising feeling of his head against your cervix. The sweet stretch of your skin opening around his.
“Beggin’ for it, weren’t ya? ‘n now look, you can’t hardly take it.”
“I can take it,” you hiss back, bracing yourself on the mattress. Your hips lift, holding onto him, bouncing up and down steadily. “I can take it,” you repeat, like a mantra, like the only thing keeping you in the room still. The only thing reminding your body to keep moving.
Joel holds a palm steady against the bottom of your stomach, rubs his thumb delicately against your skin. “So deep, baby. ‘m so fuckin’ deep inside you. That feel nice?”
The meat of your ass slaps against the tops of his thighs. You’re quickening, eyes screwing shut. He feels so good. Fills you up so fucking good. Your legs start to loosen, knees weakening the more you fuck yourself on him. Your head drops between your shoulders when his thumb lowers, circles gently at your clit.
“Keep – keep doing that. Fuck, Joel – touch me. Keep touching me.”
“’boutta come, ain’t you?”
“Sh-shut up.”
“Yeah,” he says, “she’s about to come.”
“Shut up,” you hiss, hips rolling now, losing rhythm between the split of his cock inside you and the lull of his thumb on your clit. Your back arches, vision begins to blur. Your lungs close in on themselves as you give one final gasp to the ceiling, and let go.
Your walls clamp hard around him, and in one swift movement, your bodies are flipped. When you open your eyes again, you’re on your back, Joel’s figure towering over you.
“’attagirl,” he mutters, palms flat against the underside of your thighs. He pushes them flat, folding you in two, your knees resting by your shoulders. “So close, darlin’. Ain’t gonna last.”
You’re shaking your head, holding onto his neck, thighs trembling. “I – can’t, Joel.”
“Yeah, you can. You can,” he assures, dipping his head to place his lips on yours. Your mouth opens up for him, tongue falls against his own. It’s barely a kiss – you’re licking at one another, sure, but there’s nothing tender or gentle about it. Joel pulls away only to glance down and guide himself back inside you. “Gonna be my good girl, aren’t you? Gonna make me come.”
With one seamless thrust, he’s back inside you, pressing your legs harder against your torso. You whine, a blur of pain and pleasure mixing where he fucks you.
“Good girl,” he says, tongue skimming along his top lip. “Nice ‘n wide, that’s it.”
Your back arches into him, arms tighten around his neck, lips settle curved around his own. You’re moaning, his name releasing itself from your mouth in shots of breath. Joel takes your knee and hooks it over his shoulder, letting the other fall to his hip. The angle forces him deeper. Deeper and harder.
But he’s starting to jump. Bucking randomly. He’s panting your name, teeth grazing against your neck in attempt to hold on just a little longer, feel you squeeze him a little more.
“You’re close,” you slur.
“’m close,” he says.
“Gonna come in me –?”
“Baby –”
“– ’n send me – ah – back downstairs full of you? Runnin’ outta me?”
Joel’s head shakes. His eyes tighten. “Fuck, darlin’. Dirty fuckin’ mouth.”
“C’mon,” you beg, “give it to – m-me.”
His hips hammer against yours, punching against the edge of your cunt harshly. You sob out, nails digging into his shoulders, until he halts, and you feel the warmth of him spurting deep inside your body. Feel the way he tenses, empties, and stills.
Your head falls back against the mattress. Joel’s still nuzzled against your neck, breathing labored, lips soaking wet against your skin. You sift your fingers through his hair, combing through it as he comes to.
His chest rocks against yours. Feeling starts to sharpen again, the orgasmic haze starting to bleed into the past. The walls of the house thud with the music from downstairs. You feel the weight of his body on top of yours again.
“Up,” you groan, pushing on his shoulders.
Joel scoffs, pushing against the mattress and rolling over beside you. He slips out, his spend seeping out and spilling onto your thigh.
Your fingers intertwine with his by your side, your nails scrawling into his knuckles.
“I miss you, when you ain’t around,” Joel whispers, glossy eyes blinking at the ceiling. “I’m bored up here.”
You roll onto your side, run your fingers over the halo of sweat around the collar of his shirt. “Good think I ain’t far, then. ‘m only downstairs.”
He smiles. “Downstairs is too far.”
You lean over him and place a soft kiss on his rough cheek. “Just have to keep you at my hip then, don’t I?”
His head turns and his lips find yours. He cups the globe of your head, pulls you harder against his jaw, runs his tongue along your teeth. When you pull away, you shift the damp hair from his glistening forehead.
“You ruined my tie, by the way,” you tell him. “The hell am I supposed to say that is?”
Joel shrugs. “If Patrick Bateman were a woman, ‘n all that.”
#i wrote this in one sitting so please forgive if it's garbage#but halloween has SUCKED for me this year and it's my favorite holiday SO i had to mark it somehow#anyways#joel miller#joel miller fic#joel miller x reader#the last of us#tlou#tlou fic#joel miller smut#pedro pascal#pedro pascal joel miller#dbf!joel miller#dbf!joel
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Masterlist:
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All works are 18+
Fear of God : Joel Miller x OFC
Summary : What was monstrousness? What was it, but a certainty that there existed within you multitudes of desires, needs, guilts, impulses – humanity? At the end of the world, when the dust has finally settled, Joel grapples with what it is to take hold of your own monstrosity – your own humanity – and live with it. And what it is to bear that truth in the palm of your hand held towards the person you love, offer it to them, and have it be accepted for what it was. Courage, above all else, it is courage that is necessary to go on.
-OR-
Big bad Joel Miller falls in love and doesn't know how to deal with it.
Someone's Wife in the Boat of Someone's Husband : Joel Miller x F!Reader
Summary: What do you do when you meet a woman, have a child, get married, and then find the love of your life?
-OR-
A Joel infidelity AU
The Cassandra Complex : Ongoing : Din Djarin x F!Reader
Summary: Enter: A man who is not so much a man, but an effigy, a wound of steel and armor and Creed – secrecy and masked faces, above all else.
Enter: A girl who is not a girl, but a creature helmed in darkness and spit out unto the galaxy broken and unmoored.
Enter: the creation of myth.
-OR-
the mandalorian / dark sider au
Pink : Joel Miller x F!Reader
Summary: The story of a son who won’t love you, and his father, who will.
-OR-
the father-in-law AU
Honey, Stomach, Mine : Joel Miller x F!Reader
Summary: Existence is a needful thing. Choice is fickle, nature inescapable. Run to the end of the world, Joel, all those things will still find you.
She'll still come for you.
-OR-
the A/B/O outbreak AU
One Shots :
bétteln : Joel Miller x F!Reader
Summary : You really want Joel to give you a baby. You don’t really care what he has to say about it.
biéten : Joel Miller x F!Reader
Summary : Now that you have his baby in you, you’re Joel’s most special girl.
Kiss, Kiss, Kill, Kill! : Joel Miller x F!Reader
Summary: Joel is a long haul truck driver. One day he finds a pretty girl in a diner and decides he’d like to keep her.
Murder and sex ensue!
Greener Memories of Better Men : Joel Miller x F!Reader
Summary: Best Story of the Day! South Austin elementary school started a “Breakfast With Dads” program but many dads couldn’t make it and several students didn’t have father figures. The school posted fliers at the local YMCA’s for 50 volunteer fathers… 600 different people from all backgrounds showed up…
Joel Miller is one of them.
-OR-
Sarah’s gone and Joel wants to feel close to her again. He reconnects with someone he used to know along the way.
I urge you: Bite me : Joel Miller x F!Reader
Summary: Sometimes love hurts like a split nail, and sometimes we like it like that.
Sometimes Joel hurts like a split nail, you like him like that too.
With Mercy for the Disturbed : Joel Miller x F!Reader
Summary: He's a father and then he isn't, and then he's in the perfect place with the perfect girl, and he's done so many bad things that terrify the both of them. And then, finally, he's saved and there are dancing bears and doors newly opened, and everyone's a little mad at the end of it all.
-OR-
the Hannibal/Alice in Wonderland AU wherein Joel loses his mind
Evermore : Joel Miller x F!Reader
Summary: The Thanksgiving AU
Meet Me in the New Year : Joel Miller x F!Reader
Summary: The New Year’s Eve AU
10:05 PM : Joel Miller x F!Reader
Summary: Joel is exhausted, you’re there to make him feel better.
How to Endure Ardor : Joel Miller x F!Reader
Summary: Joel teaches you how to love him.
Notes On a Virtuous Affair : Joel Miller x F!Reader
Summary: One would think this road ends in something virtuous—a greenness so dazzling it hurt the eyes—and not the sort of man waiting in his far out removed solitude.
At the Restaurant : Din Djarin x F!Reader
Summary: It’s three days til Christmas, and you’ve never known want like this, and his eyes are glossy with emotion and everything he won’t ever let himself tell you or anyone else, and you so badly want to tell him that it’s only that it’s hard to be casual when your favorite bra lives in his dresser, and also that you’re in love with him.
-OR-
the Christmas situationship AU
Forfeiting My Mystique : Ezra x F!Reader
Summary: You're a girl made of golden gossamer, a work of art come to life, and Ezra, well, he's dedicated his life to collecting beautiful things.
-OR-
An Ezra Art Collector AU
Austerlitz : Simon (Ghost) Riley x F!Reader
Summary: The day he left for his hideous war, the dream changed. The house was still there, but now neither of us lived in it anymore. And when he finally came back, if that’s what you could even call it, he was nothing but a Ghost.
-OR-
Ghost goes away, comes back in a maybe dream.
#pedro pascal#joel miller#the last of us#joel tlou#pedro pascal characters#joel x reader#joel miller/you#joel miller fic#joel miller imagine#joel miller x reader#joel miller smut#joel miller x you#pedro pascal fanfiction#ezra prospect fanfiction#ezra prospect x reader#the last of us fanfiction#tlou fic#joel miller fanfiction#din djarin x you#din djarin#din djarin fanfiction#the mandalorian fanfiction#star wars fanfiction#call of duty fanfic#ghost x reader#simon ghost riley fanfiction#simon ghost riley#simon riley x reader
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reach out, touch faith
In The Woods Somewhere | Chapter Three
Chapter Summary | Trusting Joel to take you to the place he calls home is difficult, but it's your only real choice now. It brings back memories of the last time you trusted someone enough to follow them, and look how that turned out?
Chapter Warnings | Canon-typical violence, mentions & allusions to child death, mentions of PTSD, descriptions of & allusions to cult activities, soft!Joel, protective!Joel, pining, strained parental relationships, no use of y/n, italics indicate a flashback scene.
Pairing | Joel Miller x F!Reader
Word Count | 3.3K
Authors Note | Thank you for being so patience in waiting for this next part. I've rekindled my love for this little series and I'm excited to show you more of what's coming with this little band of travellers. If you enjoyed then please consider leaving comments, reblogging or popping into my ask box with your thoughts! And if you enjoyed, please consider supporting me with a tip through my Ko-Fi.
A reminder that I no longer use taglists - please follow @thetriumphantpandanotifs and turn on post notifications to know when I post new writing.
Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Ko-Fi
Joel doesn’t really know what to do. He’s never been the best at consoling people, especially people he doesn’t really know. What’s he supposed to do? The way you’ve flinched at him every time he’s tried to touch you suggests that trying to hug you is probably going to make things worse. He’s still reeling from the information you’ve just thrown at him, and it somehow makes the situation worse. He was yours. How the hell is he meant to make this better now? Sure, anyone’s child dying is the worst thing that can happen, pure innocence snuffed out and for what reason? But the fact that Edward was yours, your flesh and blood, it's so much worse. He can yet again feel his own panic rising as your sobs continue, tears streaming down your face, hands shaking. He simply doesn’t know what to do.
“Hey,” He says softly, shaking your knees with his hands, “Hey, just look at me for a second, okay?”
You don’t, you just stare blankly into the fire behind his shoulder as you cry, so he moves his head into your eyeline, searching your eyes with his own, “Hey, can I touch you?” He asks, realizing as soon as the words have left his mouth how bad that must sound, “Just let me hug you, okay?”
When you don’t move away from him or tell him otherwise, he moves forward a little, moving tentatively so as not to spook you. He gently moves one hand to rest at your head, pulling your wet, puffy face to the crook of his neck, his other arm moving around your back. He stays like that for as long as you need, palm running over your hair, the other still on your back to try and ground you. Soon, the racking sobs have stopped, you’re silent now. And then he feels your arms wrap around him. He’s too broad for your hands to meet around his back, but your hands rest behind him as you soothe yourself.
“I’m tired,” You mumble into the skin of his neck, breath ghosting against him, “I’m so fucking tired Joel.”
He thinks that you perhaps might not just mean tonight – thinks you might be tired of it all, and he understands, because for so long he was tired too. He chooses to work with the immediate though. He ignores the screaming of his knees and his back as he scoops you up, walking slowly to the room you’d claimed as your own, careful not to knock your head on the door frame as he walks in. When he sets you down gently onto the bed, you’re already mostly asleep. It’s cold in here, he thinks, so he peels back the covers and drapes them over your body, and then takes his jacket off for good measure and places it on top of the sheets.
He wants to turn and leave, leave you in peace, give your privacy, but if his experience is anything to go by, these nights will be the darkest. You’ll dream about it, over and over again, replay everything that went wrong, every other possible way this could have ended. You’ll wake up in a cold sweat, screaming, then struggle to get back to sleep. He doesn’t know what brought you here, but he sure as hell knows it isn’t good, thinks you’ve probably been living with fighting on your own for too long. So, he stays. He takes his boots off, props the pillows up against the headboard, and lies there, listening to the way you breathe in your sleep, keeping a lookout for any signs of distress. He sighs to himself, resigned to another night of no sleep.
Joel gives you two more days until he issues his ultimatum. Two days of trying to make it through the day without breaking in front of the children, and evenings where you do nothing but cry, sometimes into Joel’s shoulder, sometimes into your pillow. The children are outside playing in a moment without rain when he comes to stand next to you.
“I have to go back,” He speaks softly, because it’s true, you think, his community will be looking for him, “You don’t have to come, I don’t expect you to trust me enough to follow me yet, but I think it would be for the best.”
“How far is it?” You ask without looking at him.
“With them?” He nods his head to the children, “Three weeks.”
“And they’ll accept us?”
“Long as you do as I say when we get there, yes.”
“And you promise, if I catch a single whiff of something being off, I can leave?” You bite at the skin on the inside of your mouth until it bleeds, weighing up what following Joel actually means.
He holds his palms up in surrender, “You can go anytime.”
You take in a deep breath, worst comes to worst, you can always shoot him if he doesn’t stay true to his word. So you nod. You agree.
“We can leave tomorrow morning.”
You know, as soon as you step into the community behind this bastard of a man, that it’s been a trap all along. It’s nothing big, a few dilapidated lodges in a clearing – there isn’t even a wall, but as he leads you down the middle of the street, something feels off and it has everything to do with the people staring at you. It doesn’t matter how many pairs of eyes you have on you as you grip your gun by your side, they’re all women. Some older than others, but from what you can see, you’re the youngest by far, apart from the children.
They aren’t playing, they don’t seem like children as you remember them. Even in the QZ they’d still been able to run around, find moments of joy in the darkness. There are five that you can see, stood next to women who you think must be their mother’s. Silently staring at you, following you with their eyes as John leads you and your mother into the lodge at the end of the street.
He opens the door, waving you both inside, and you’re furious at the way your mother does as she’s told. You take too long for his liking to step over the threshold, so he takes hold of your shoulder and shoves you through the door, shutting it behind him and standing in front of it, your one exit blocked.
“Your possessions, if you please,” He speaks, sickly sweet, gesturing his hand for you and your mother to put your bags and weapons on the table in the middle of the room, “You’ll get them back soon enough, but we must make sure you don’t have anything dangerous.”
You feel like a deer caught in headlights as your mother does exactly as she’s told. Places her backpack on the table and takes the knife she has from her pocket and sets it next to the bag. John smiles at her, a horrible, toothy grin, which quickly fades when he looks to you.
“And you, little dove,” He croons, it makes you shiver, “You’re not going to cause trouble already, are you?”
You already know there isn’t a chance in hell of you getting your things back, but you do as he says anyway, setting your pack and your gun on the table, but keeping your hunting knife concealed in the waistband of your jeans under the flannel shirt you’re wearing. He seems satisfied - stupid man - you think, as he walks further into the room, opening a large chest.
When he stands, he’s holding white material in his hands, he offers one to your mother, who unravels it to reveal a white dress. He hands you a similar bundle of material, when unraveled it’s another white dress, slightly different in style and size to the one your mother is holding up against her body. What the fuck kind of place have you walked into?
“It will help you fit in,” He explains, “The rest of the folk here dress like this, so it’ll help show them you’re one of us now.”
Something inside you thinks that whatever the women here do, it’s not through choice of their own but you decide not to talk back, following closely behind your mother as John opens the door and leads you back outside and into another lodge down the street, if you could even call it a street.
He opens the door, inside is a woman who you think must be your mother’s age, a baby cradled in her arms which she is rocking back and forth. It’s making tiny, gurgling sounds as if it’s just been fed.
“This is Alice,” John introduces, “You’ll stay here with her, and she can help you get acquainted with the way we do things here,” Alice turns and nods her head at him, much like you imagined people would do when they met royalty, “Dinner will be at sundown.”
With the baby clutched to her, Alice silently motions for you both to follow her. She leads you up the stairs and opens one of the doors. Inside, it’s simple, two single beds, one chest of drawers but nothing much else.
“You sleep here,” She speaks, her voice quiet and meek, “And please change,” She motions to your dresses, “It’ll make things easier.”
She closes the door behind her, and you can hear her footsteps retreating down the stairs. Your mother is already stripping out of her normal clothes and draping the white dress over her body. It doesn’t fit her properly, it’s too big. The hemline ghosts at the ground, long sleeves taper in at her wrists. She looks fucking ridiculous, you think.
“You heard her,” She chastises, “Get changed.”
Oh, so now you want to pretend you’re in charge. You suck your teeth in frustration, but take off your shirt anyway, letting the white material slip over you. You keep your jeans on, more as a place to keep your knife concealed than anything else. You can’t help the smug feeling that fills you when you realise your dress fits you perfectly. You don’t look nearly as stupid as your mother does in hers. Yours is a different style. Still long enough to ghost the ground by your boots, but the neckline is cut differently, dipping down to show off the swell of your breasts, and your arms are shorter, cut off just below your shoulders. You don’t think you’d ever worn something like this in your life. If it weren’t for the situation, you find yourself in, you’d start to think you actually looked nice.
Your mother opts to head back downstairs – maybe thinking she can entice Alice into a conversation, but she’s silent. She just sits on the couch and rocks her baby, vacant expression in her eyes, ignores your mother when she asks questions. The only time she really moves is when there’s a faint sound of a ringing bell. She stands, places the baby in a crib set in the living room and just motions for you to follow her.
It's when you sit down that you realise quite how fucked you are. John sits at the head of the table, because of course he does, but just as you’d suspected, the only other people sat at the table are women, apart from some of the small children who are boys. All dressed in similar white dresses to you. All wearing a similar vacant expression as Alice was. There’s a door behind John that opens, and two women, both clearly pregnant, but one further along than the other, bring out pots full of what looks like stew when it’s spooned into the bowl in front of you.
You go to pick up the spoon and start eating, but the sound of someone clearing their throat pulls your attention to the end of the table. It’s John, and when you look down, every single one of the women is holding hands with those sat next to them. An old woman sat next to you, graying hair and wrinkled face, has her palm up, waiting for you to slip your hand in her own. You set the spoon down and give her your hand, then John speaks.
“To our most gracious Lord, we extend our thanks to you for keeping us safe in these troubled times and for providing us with a meal to sustain us, amen.”
There is a small murmur of ‘amens’ around the table and then everyone picks up their spoons and begins to eat, although you’ve truly lost your appetite. All you can think is how the fuck you’re going to get out of here.
The next morning, when you set off from the safety of the cabin, you realise just how slow you are as a group. When you’d first arrived at your cabin, just you and the children, it hadn’t felt like it had taken that long to find your place of safety, but maybe that’s because you’d still had that adrenaline running through you. Now, as you walk behind Joel, who always seems to be fast enough to be feet away from you, you realise just how long this trek through the woods is going to take.
The eldest two children walk by your side – you walk slowly enough that they can keep up with you, but after a few hours, you realise Isabel is who is going to slow you down the most, so you opt to pick her up and carry her on your hip. She’s almost too big for this, her weight making your arms ache, but for the sake of making this quicker, you suffer on, shifting her around every now and then as you follow Joel, eyes always trained on the back of his head.
You stop that night in a clearing. The air is cool and it’s the first time in a long time that the children have had nothing but the solid ground to sleep on, but they don’t seem to mind, settling underneath the jacket that Joel had shrugged off, using yours as a scrunched-up pillow. You’re sitting with your back against the trunk of a tree, knees pulled up to your chest, Joel is sitting in a similar manner across from you.
“I can help carry her.” He speaks softly across the clearing.
You shake your head with a resolute and stern “No.” Thrown in his direction.
He holds his hands up in surrender, “You gonna carry her the whole way?” He challenges, and the ache that’s settled in your arms tells you he’s right, you aren't, “I don’t know what you’re scared of but I’m not going to do anythin’ to her.”
It’s a question you don’t really know how to answer, because you think deep down that you know he won’t hurt her. He’s done nothing but protect you since he crashed into your life – he’s fed you, protected you, carried your dead son and buried him, he slept next to you, as far away as he could get, didn’t try and touch you without permission. Everything he’s done so far has proved he’s a good man. It could still be some kind of sick joke though, that he’s leading you somewhere bad, that he could pick Isabel up and run off with her, or hurt her.
“I get it,” He murmurs now, “I’m a random guy that’s turned up and caused a lot’a trouble, and I’m takin’ you somewhere new and that’s scary,” He exhales a big sigh, “But I promise I ain’t gonna hurt ya, I know somethin’ bad’s happened to you before,” He signal to his own neck where that horrible scar sits on you, “I know whatever happened to you, to these kids,” He nods to where they’re sleeping, “Must'a been bad, and I don’t know how anyone could hurt you.”
“You don’t know me.”
“I’m tryin’ to,” He defends, “I’m tryin’ to help you as well.”
“I’m not-” You shake your head, “Just been alone a long time, I’m not used to having to trust people.”
“It’s gonna take time,” He admits, his own mind flashing back to how long it took him to trust anyone in this new world, “And I’m not askin’ for it all at once, just let me help a little, alright?”
You’re silent, because you don’t really want to admit you need help. You’ve been fine on your own, with the children, for so long, and he’s wandered into your life and set off a chain of events you aren’t sure you’re actually going to recover from. You don’t need him, not really, is what you think as you focus your attention to the ground where the children are sleeping.
Joel takes the silence as conversation over. He won’t push you, he knows it’ll probably end in tears if he does, but the next morning, when you pack all your things away and get ready to move on, instead of hiking Isabel into your own arms, you gently push at her shoulders to get her to walk towards Joel.
“How about you hitch a ride with him this morning?” You ask softly, bent to her height.
Joel kneels too, trying to make himself look less intimidating to her, although he doesn’t think it really works from the way she tries to scurry back into your arms. He thinks about how Sarah was at her age, so unsure of the big people around her, scared of anyone that wasn’t him.
He stretches out one of his big hands to her, “Come on,” He coaxes gently, “You ever ridden first class on a pair of shoulders before?”
Isabel sucks on her thumb a little, but shakes her head to tell him no, “It’s the best thing,” Joel adds, “You’ll see everything from up here.”
That seems to do it, because with another nudge from you she’s walking over and putting her impossibly small hand into Joel’s. He doesn’t remember the last time he’d touched someone this small, apart from Tommy’s baby. He hauls her up with ease, settling her on his shoulders, just like he promised. He’s got hold of her legs to keep her steady as he starts walking, trying to dampen the lump in his throat and the tears that are springing to his eyes. It’s so familiar, the way the weight of her sat there feels. If he closes his eyes, he’s back in Austin, walking through the park with Sarah sat up there, pointing out birds and butterflies and trying to keep her steady when she squeals with excitement.
He's sure that this might be his undoing, he thinks as he walks slowly, accounting for the other children that are following behind, each one clasping one of your hands tightly. How has he allowed himself to care this quickly for you and the children that follow you? How has he managed to go so fucking soft already? He can’t explain it, the way your sweetness has sunk under his skin. He knows there’s something more to you, he’s going to try and coax it out of you if he possibly can, but he’s sure that whatever you might have to say to him, whatever it is you’re going to tell him that happened to you, is only going to make him more likely to protect you, to lay down everything to keep you safe, and it scares him. Where is the Joel he knows? The closed off, grumpy man who won’t let anyone in? Where is that man he knows like the back of his hand, and is too late to go and find him? He thinks it probably is when he hears the slight chuckle from the girl sat on his shoulders, who’s pointing her hand at the butterfly that floats past them in mid-air. He’s fucked, he thinks, and for once, he thinks he might just be okay with that.
#Joel Miller#Joel Miller smut#Joel Miller fluff#Joel Miller Angst#Joel Miller fic#Joel Miller fanfic#Joel Miller fanfiction#Joel Miller series#Joel Miller imagine#Joel Miller x you#Joel Miller x reader#Joel Miller x female reader#Joel Miller x f!reader#joel miller x y/n#The last Of Us#The last Of Us hbo#tlou#tlou hbo#tlou fic#the last of us fic#tlou fanfic#tlou fanfiction#the last of us fanfiction#the last of us fanfic#the last of us smut#Pedro Pascal#Joel Miller Pedro Pascal#ITWS
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White Christmas {Joel Miller x F!Reader}
Rating: Explicit
Word Count: 19.8k
Warnings: Post apocalypse setting, threats of violence, technically forced entry, survival, mentions of family death, virgin reader, Reader celebrates Christmas, oral sex (male and female receiving), vaginal sex, loss of innocence, fingering, somnophilia, Joel's a little horny, cum play, pull out method of birth control, face sitting, 69, anal play, slight angst
Comments: Finding a cabin right before a winter storm blows in seems like a gift. Finding it occupied with you - a Christmas celebrating virginal survivor, is Joel's own Christmas gift. Providing safety and security in and out of your bed and giving Ellie the Christmas she had always dreamed of.
A/N: Merry Christmas belatedly!!! Charlie and I meant to have this finished by Christmas Day but life and family got in the way. But it's finally here! Cheers!
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.
The temperature is dropping again, the chill making Ellie shiver as she pulls her jacket closer and follows behind Joel. There’s a heaviness to the air, it feels almost wet and Joel told her that meant it would snow today. They need to find a cave, a dilapidated building, something, and she wouldn’t complain about a fucking fire to thaw out her frozen fingers. “Joel-“
“I’m fucking working on it.” His tone is annoyed and she bites her lip. She hadn’t been about to complain, but he seems to think she is.”
“No, do you smell that?” She demands, sniffing the air loudly. There’s the scent of a fire in the air. Someone has to be nearby.
Joel frowns, squinting as he tries to look into the distance. His eyes aren’t the same as they used to be. He fucking hates getting old. Sometimes, when his body aches and he misses Sarah too much, his mind goes back to that dark place that’s memorialized on his face. He grunts, “come on kid. Let’s see what it is. Probably assholes who want to kill us but let’s see.” He snorts and Ellie chuckles, knowing how hard life is in the wilderness. The only person she trusts is Joel. He leads the way through the snow until your cabin comes up in the distance.
Joel tightens his grip on the rifle and looks around carefully, aware that the area might be booby trapped or there might be some guards. The place looks too neat to be someone holed up for the coming weather. This is obviously someone’s home. “Fuck.” The first flurries start to fall as the wind picks up and there’s nowhere else to put Ellie. He’s just going to have to make sure that he gets the upper hand when surprising whoever is inside and hold them at gunpoint until the coming winter storm is over. “Stay close.”
Ellie nods, watching Joel as he walks towards the cabin, and she shivers when the snow hits her face. He’s exhausted, clearly needing to rest, and so does she. You don’t notice his approach, too busy humming a Christmas carol as you putter around the cabin that’s been in your family for a hundred years. You smile as the pine smell fills the air, the fire crackling. You don’t hear the slight jiggle of the locked door until it’s flinging open and a man holding a rifle strides in. “Get down!” He yells and you scream as you do as he says, laying down on the floor. Joel immediately comes over to pat you down, wanting to make sure you’re not armed. “Anyone else here?” He asks, standing up and swinging his body around to see if there’s another person in the cabin with you.
“Don’t- no! Please don’t- don’t hurt me!” You curse yourself for not putting the bar on the door but you had been expecting to bring in another few loads of firewood. “Please, I-“ you know that you are in very real danger, it’s not like you’ve been isolated from what the world has become, even if you’ve managed better than most. “Don’t- don’t hurt me.”
Joel growls as you don’t answer his question and he smacks his rifle down on the floor next to your face. “Are you alone?” He shouts out at you and you shake. “Are. You. Alone!” He yells.
“Yes. Yes. I’m alone!” You cry and he stands straight, deciding to go through the house to make sure no one is hiding. “Ellie!” He shouts, calling the teenager in. “Aim your gun at her. She moves. You shoot.” He commands and goes around the cabin, opening every door and cupboard to make sure you’re alone once Ellie has her gun aimed at you.
You are shaking, only slightly relieved when the girl shows up. Somehow hoping that because there’s a younger girl, that some of the evils that could be visited on you, won’t be. “I - there’s no one else here.” You promise quietly.
“He won’t hurt you.” The girl murmurs. “Not unless you try to hurt us.” Huffing quietly, you listen as this dangerous man shuffles through your cabin, your home.
“You broke into my house, not the other way around.”
Joel comes back after realizing that you are indeed alone and he’s shocked. A woman in a cabin all alone. Something he hasn’t come across. “Stand up.” He orders, reaching down to grab your forearm and he practically drags you over to the chair at the dining table. “Ellie. Rope.” He demands, needing the rope from her backpack to tie you up. He doesn’t trust anyone. “No one coming back here?” He asks, wanting to know that there’s not an army of men coming back to this place.
“I- no, I’ve been alone for two years.” You admit, hating that fact. People don’t come here and you had burned and buried the last member of your family before the snow two winters ago. “Please, take what you want and - are you hungry? I have some stew, take it. Just- just don’t kill me….or worse.”
That makes Joel pause. You’re more scared of what he could do to you than being killed. That makes him feel sick. He never wants to be that kind of man in this horrifying new world. He swallows harshly and lowers his rifle from your face. “I ain’t gonna kill you.” He promises.
You bite your lip, trying not to show how scared you are. It’s not that you’re weak, you’ve survived the outbreak and the past twenty years since, but now you’re all alone. “Why are you- what do you want?” You manage. “Just take what you need.”
“We need a place to stay. Storm is coming. We can’t keep traveling in the wilderness without dying of frostbite. We need to stay here. You gonna let us?” It’s a rhetorical question but Joel is a gentleman enough to make it seem like you have a choice.
“You didn’t have to shove a gun in my face for a place to stay.” You frown. “All you had to do was ask. I’m not- you have a kid. What kind of monster would leave you two outside during a blizzard?”
Joel feels a little embarrassed now that he went so extreme but he is used to the dangers of this new world. “I’m sorry but I couldn’t take a chance. The kid- we have been used to some bad people.” He confesses, “I didn’t - I’m sorry.” He says, deciding to untie you just as Ellie says “you decorate for Christmas?” She asks, noticing the garlands and baubles placed around the cabin.
You’re confused by the turn of events but nod as the man starts to untie you. “I did.” You confess. “My Christmas tree is on the back porch. I was planning on decorating it after getting some more wood. Before the storm got too bad. It’s silly, but it makes me happy.” You shrug slightly, knowing how ridiculous it sounds.
“It’s Christmas.” Joel murmurs, remembering the holidays he spent with Sarah. He didn’t even know what month it was, let alone what day.
“It’s so pretty.” Ellie coos, eyes wide at the bright colors and decorations you have clearly maintained since before the outbreak.
“How do you know it’s December?” He asks out of curiosity. He only knows seasons.
“I’ve kept track.” You admit with a small shrug. “My dad had one of those organizers that had calendars for fifty years.” You snort, shaking your head. “We started making sure we kept track after the outbreak.”
Joel is equally impressed and peeved. Why would you keep track of the date when the fucking world ended? He doesn’t understand it. It’s all about survival. He glances around at the nostalgia. “I can’t - where’s the stew?” He asks, knowing that Ellie must be starving.
“It’s- the stove.” You nod towards the rustic kitchen. At the time, it had been considered quaint to have a wood burning stove and a water pump in the kitchen instead of the modern conveniences, but it had proven to be the best possible thing when the electricity went out. “It’s- I’ll fix you some bowls.” You promise, slowly standing up and watching him warily. “Warm yourselves. There’s a bathroom down the hall if you need to use it.”
Joel knows Ellie will want the bathroom. “You can go.” He tells her and she looks at him with gratitude before rushing down the hall. He watches you as you grab two bowls and pour the stew into it. He can’t believe you’re alone. Most women on their own…well, it’s a cruel world and all the women’s rights that were so hard fought went out the window when the pricks who were against them took over again with the new world. Joel is certain that you’re capable. You have to be if you’re still out here after so long in this small piece of paradise in the middle of nowhere. “So…you grew up here?” He asks, curious about you.
“I did.” You carefully ladle the hot stew and add a few of the coarse ground crispy corn bread rounds that you had fried up to go with it. Looking up at him to find him watching you closely. “I’m not going to poison you.” You promise. “You don’t hurt me and I’ll be happy to have guests for Christmas.”
Joel watches you for another second before he sits down, deciding to trust you but not enough to set his gun down away from him. When you set the stew down, he can’t help but groan softly. “Sorry. We, uh, we haven’t eaten for a few days.” He admits quietly, averting his eyes when you look at him in understanding.
“There’s plenty.” You murmur softly and move back over to the kitchen to get him and his daughter something to drink. “I’ve been lucky growing and canning vegetables. And I had just finished processing the deer I shot a couple of days ago.”
Joel is impressed but he doesn’t let that show as he watches you as you move around the kitchen. Ellie comes back a few moments later and her eyes widen at the hot food. “Holy shit this place is amazing.” She gasps before she sits down and starts to dig into the food.
“Manners.” Joel reprimands her, shaking his head until he looks at you. “Sorry. She’s feral.”
You laugh and wave off his apology. “It’s good to know some things haven’t changed since the world went to shit.” You tell him, setting down glasses of water. “Later on, if you want, we can heat up some water for a hot bath. It’s probably been awhile?”
Ellie nods, opening her mouth with food in it. “Swallow first.” Joel reminds her and she dramatically swallows her food.
“I would love a bath. Jesus, this place is incredible. How the hell haven’t you been killed?” She asks you, wondering if you’re some kind of super woman to have kept this place safe.
You snort and shrug. “It’s remote.” You remind her. “Not a lot of people come this way. Winter is too harsh. And when I’m not being surprised, I’m a damn good shot.” You glance towards Joel and then look back at his daughter. “I’m just living the way my ancestors did, I guess.”
Joel hums before he takes a bite of the stew, groaning at the taste after not eating for a few days. “Fuck this is good.” He says and Ellie nudges him, “manners, old man.” She says playfully and he rolls his eyes.
“So where are you heading?” You ask and Joel swallows, reluctant to tell you his plans.
“We are heading west. Trying to find my brother.” He says vaguely.
A gust of wind pushes against the cabin and you look outside. The sun is fading fast. “I understand.” You tell him, knowing that most are reluctant to reveal information. “But you will be stuck here for a few days at least. The storm is going to be bad.” Walking over to the coat rack, you pick up a heavy sheepskin coat. “I have to latch the shutters and bring in more wood.” You tell them. “Eat.”
Joel is cautious but doesn’t react as you head off to secure the cabin. “You can relax. She doesn’t seem like the type to stab you in your sleep.” Ellie says and Joel tuts, turning to face her.
“You should never trust anyone. Especially someone you underestimate.” He tells her, knowing he learned his lesson about that.
Outside, you scold yourself. “Fucking idiot, they could lock you out.” You huff, realizing your mistake as soon as the door closed behind you. “Then you’ll freeze to death.” You can’t go back inside and demand they come with you, and the temperature is falling faster than the snow. Making you shiver as you hustle around the cabin, snapping the shutters closed and latching them together to protect the windows and insulate the cabin more.
Joel doesn’t say anything until the door opens and his hand grips his rifle, ready for anything to happen. When you enter alone, shivering, he relaxes and lets go of his weapon. You set the logs down and he releases the tension from his body. You notice and he sighs, “I’m not - it’s not you.” He says, wanting you to know it’s not that he thinks you’re bad, he’s just developed habits.
“I should probably get another few armfuls.” You tell him. “The wind is starting to pick up and I’d rather not have to use the guide rope.”
“I can help.” He offers, standing up from the table. You hesitate for a second before you nod and he follows you outside to where you store the logs. “You prepped all this by yourself?” He asks, impressed even if he doesn’t say it explicitly.
“It’s not easy.” You admit. “I try to chop wood all year. Every day to make sure that there is enough. And during the summer, I try not to burn much, just for cooking.” You start to stack wood up in your arms. “Worth it when I’m warm in my cabin.“
Joel reaches out to take the wood from you, knowing he’s vulnerable without his hands free but also wants to show you that he can help. “You are very capable.” He offers you an awkward compliment just before he clears his throat.
“Thanks.” You murmur back, eying him warily until you’re back in the cabin. You lock the door but don’t bar it in case you need an escape. “So…bath time?” You ask Ellie who nods eagerly.
“Have you had others come through here recently?” Joel asks once you’re heating up water.
“Not for a long time.” Your eyes slide away, looking towards the wall where you have pictures of your family hanging up to remember their faces. “Last time was about five years ago.”
“You’ve been on your own this entire time? How the fuck haven’t you gone crazy?” Ellie asks with wide eyes. “All alone? Jesus, I think I’d lose my mind.” She says and Joel doesn’t comment, knowing that he’d probably enjoy the solitude if he didn’t have Ellie.
“I had family up until two years ago.” You explain. “So I haven’t been alone that entire time; but work keeps me busy. And there’s always plenty of it.” You set a bucket into the sink and start to pump the water handle.
“Two years.” He murmurs, surprised that you’ve been able to be alone for so long but he knows Bill was alone for a long time until Frank came along. Survival is more important than company. He watches you pump the water and he works on building up the fire.
There’s something about having people around that makes you happy. Humming a Christmas carol to yourself as you move the bucket onto the stove and open the burner to let it boil. “I should make some hot chocolate on Christmas Eve.” You hum to yourself. There’s still some left that had been dry sealed and you only make a cup on special occasions. Perhaps it would be something that the girl has never had before.
“Fuck yes. I’ve never had hot chocolate.” Ellie confesses and Joel raises his eyebrows at her in warning. Ellie watches you with curiosity. You seem like a glimpse into what the world was like before the outbreak and she loves it as you hum something she’s never heard before.
“I haven’t heard that song in…well, since before.” Joel confesses, amazed that you observe a holiday that is no longer relevant when it comes to this new world.
“Christmas was our favorite holiday as a family.” You admit. “I’ve got this crazy idea that if I continue to celebrate, then they aren’t really gone. You know?” You shrug, knowing how insane it sounds, but maybe you are a little crazy.
Joel doesn't understand that kind of mentality. For him, he tries to forget about those times. For a second, he glances at the tree you had brought in and remembers decorating one with Sarah year after year. How she'd tell him off for putting too many of the same baubles in the same area. Bossy like her mother. He shakes his head slightly to clear the memories and focuses back on you. "And you've never had anyone stay with you that wasn't family?" Joel asks, curious if you had someone at some point. You are beautiful, even he can see that, and he's certain that most men would've killed for a chance to stay here with you.
You smile wistfully and shake your head. “Never really had that opportunity.” You know what he’s really asking and you shrug before you get another pot of water to temper to boiling in the bath. “The few that have come have been groups. Passing through or seeking shelter for a time. No one stayed.”
Joel nods, surprised that no one has taken advantage of you. The world is harsh and you’re lucky to have gotten away with your life so far. “Do you have a razor? I need to shave.” Joel says, reaching up to scratch the heavy beard he’s grown during the travels in the wilderness.
“I’ve got a razor.” You motion for him to follow you to the bedroom that you had taken for yourself two years ago, because it has a fireplace. “My father was about your size.” You tell him. “The closet dresser still has his things, he’d want them to be out to good use.” You reach for the shaving cup and straight razor he had used your entire life, preferring it over the ones with cartridges.
Joel nods his appreciation, glad that you have some spare clothes. The ones he is wearing are practically threadbare now with holes in them. He walks back into the living room and looks over at Ellie, “go have your bath. I’m going to check the perimeter before it starts to storm.” Joel says, grabbing his gun and he trusts you with Ellie for some reason.
“Soooooo.” Ellie looks around and then back at you. “You don’t mind that we are here, right? Joel really needs to rest and maybe he can get some during the storm.”
You tilt your head curiously. “Do you always call your dad by his name?” You ask, wondering if the outbreak had changed those customs.
Ellie shakes her head and laughs. “My dad? He’s not my dad.” She declares and your eyes widen, suddenly tense. “And it’s not like that either. He saved me and I- I guess you could say he unofficially adopted me and now he’s stuck with me.” She explains and giggles, “he’s a miserable bastard but he has a good heart. You can trust him. He won’t hurt you.” She promises, “unless you give him a reason to.”
You relax slightly and nod. “I think you two are more of a threat to me at this point.” You point out. “But why don’t we just enjoy the fact that we are cozy and warm.” You click your tongue. “I think I have some clothes that might fit you too. From when I was younger.”
Ellie nods, “gee. This is - you’re like the best place we could’ve found.” She says and stands up. “Thanks for all of this.” Ellie tells you and you smile, “it’s nice to have the company.” She disappears down the hall. Joel comes back an hour later, surveying the area and checking the cabin for any weak points in case the storm gets bad. He doesn’t want to get ambushed during the storm. Old habits die hard.
“You have to be cold.” You huff, closing the door behind him and locking a thick piece of wood into hooks sunk into the walls of the cabin. It keeps the door secure against bear and man, even the wind won’t rattle it. “Go stand by the fire, get warm.”
Joel shakes slightly as he shuffles over to the fire, rubbing his hands to warm them over the flames. "Where's Ellie?" He asks and you tell him she's having a bath. He envies her a little as he shivers but the kid will be happy to be clean. "The perimeter is clear. Checked to make sure we have enough clearance in case someone decides to sneak up." He tells you, having learned some things from Bill.
You decide to not mention they are the first in years to come here, instead you decide to pour Joel a cup of hot chamomile tea you had decided would be the perfect ending to an adventurous day. “I have a bit of whiskey or brandy left if you’d like it?” You offer, having pulled a few bottles up from your father’s collection in the cellar.
Joel nods, "that sounds good." He doesn't remember the last time he had whiskey...maybe the night before he left Boston with Tess and Ellie. Yes, that was the last time. When you set the bottle down on the table with a glass, he pours himself a small measure, not wanting to lose his senses when he's in a strange place. "You having one?" He asks, looking up at you.
You take that as suspicion on his part and shrug, reaching for the bottle. “Sure.” You pour a larger drink and then tip the bottle back to take a shot straight from the neck. “It’s not poisoned.”
Joel snorts softly, "I was askin' if you wanted one. Didn't think you'd poison me like a goddamn black widow." He smirks and shakes his head before he downs the shot of whiskey.
You chuckle dryly. “Hard to be a black widow when you’re me.” You tell him, sitting down and staring at your tea cup. “Sheltered. That would be the word, I guess.”
Joel can tell you've been sheltered, not as jaded by life like he has been. "So does that mean you've never...?" He trails off, not wanting to fully ask before he remembers himself. "Sorry. That was over the line."
“Honestly? It’s kind of nice to be asked questions.” You admit, not exactly being embarrassed by your life, or lack thereof. “Didn’t exactly attract a lot of boys when I was younger.” You tell him. “Guess I was kind of the Ugly Duckling. It’s sheer fucking luck I was home visiting for the weekend from college when the world turned to shit.” You shiver slightly, not even wanting to imagine how bad it would be if you had been in the city. “And I was surrounded by family. So….no, I’ve never had sex.”
Joel nods, surprised and not surprised at your answer. It’s obvious you’ve been alone but you’re a beautiful woman who should’ve been worshiped by now. “That’s a real shame. I bet you look gorgeous when you orgasm.” Joel says bluntly, not one for mincing his words.
Your eyes widen and you look towards the closed bathroom door where Ellie is still soaking in her hot bath. “I-“ the man in front of you is handsome, rough and rugged like the men you had grown up around. He’s obviously capable and he must have a tender side if he’s caring for a young girl who isn’t related to him. You’re literally a forty year old virgin, and who knows when you’d ever have another opportunity? “Do you want to sleep with me?” You ask just as bluntly.
Joel raises his eyebrows in surprise at your bluntness and he glances behind you to the door where Ellie is. “Tonight. After she’s asleep.” He says, cock twitching at the thought of touching you, of taking your innocence. He knows it’s wrong. You should have a dinner date with flowers and chocolates and all that shit but fuck, he wants to see you fall apart. It’s been so long since he lost himself like that, not since Tess, and he needs to let go for just one night.
Swallowing harshly, you nod. “After she gets out, you can clean up too.” You would prefer to have your first time to be a good experience. “Then I’ll clean up as well.”
Joel nods, remaining silent as he thinks about touching you, making you moan. He doesn’t know you but he knows he wants to make you cry out in pleasure. He wants to lose himself in the act of sex. His mind has been so focused on survival, he wants to forget for a while.
Soon enough, your drinks are finished and you have cleaned up the kitchen from their meal. You had eaten while Joel was gone and you add some more wood to the fire. The light from the flames fills the space and the stove keeps the bedrooms warm on the other side of that wall. It might be a bit much to keep both going, but the temperature is falling fast and you want to keep the house warm since you have guests. “I should start warming more water.”
Joel can tell you are nervous and he works on getting cleaned up after Ellie is done and you heat up the water again. He groans as he sits in the bath, itching his beard and he sees the scissors and razor on the side. He looks down at his crotch and figures that could use a trim up too since this is your first time. He wants to make a good impression.
While Joel is in the bath, you settle Ellie down into the other bedroom. “Joel will want to sleep on the couch.” She tells you, flopping down on the bed with a sigh. “So I’ll just sleep here.” You chuckle quietly, knowing that he would probably be in your bed. “He’ll have plenty of choices on where to rest.” You promise and grin. “Tomorrow is Christmas Eve. Since there’s snow, we’ll make some candy, how does that sound? To go with the hot chocolate?”
“Hell to the fuck yes.” Ellie nods rapidly, unable to believe she’s wearing pajamas for the first time in…well, ever. “This place is fucking awesome.” She grins before she yawns, “thanks for letting us stay.”
“Despite what others might do, I think it would have been inhuman to let you stay outside.” You shake your head. “Besides, it will be nice to have company for Christmas.”
Ellie smiles, appreciative and glad you’re so kind. A rare bird in this world she’s grown up in. “Thanks. Joel will be nice to you.” She promises, “and if he isn’t, I’ll make him be.” She smirks and settles into the bed.
You grin and shake your head. “The sheets are fresh and the room stays warm from the stove.” You promise. “Good night, Ellie” She had told you her name while Joel was gone and the girl bids you goodnight as you close her bedroom door.
Joel stands up and dries himself with the towel, deciding to not bother dressing as he keeps it wrapped around his waist while he trims his beard and shaves it back into the mustache of his younger years. When he's clean and ready, he exits the bathroom and enters what he assumes is your bedroom. He finds you standing there, adjusting the pillows, and he offers you a rare smile. "All clean." He says to announce his presence.
“Oh, uh, I better clean up too.” You bite your lip. “Do you- um, I don’t know, do you want me to shave? Bare? I mean I keep my-uh, hair tidy, but what’s the preference for cunt hair after the apocalypse?” You ramble nervously.
Joel snorts, "baby, it's your choice. I don't mind exploring a jungle or you can shave. I ain't fussy. It's the end of the world." He chuckles and shifts to sit down on the end of the bed.
You laugh quietly, shaking your head at your nerves. “Okay, I’ll- I’ll be quick,” you promise, rushing over to your underwear drawer and pulling out a lingerie set that never saw any use since you bought it the week before the world ended.
Joel finds your nerves endearing and he watches you rush around your room until you disappear down the hall to the bathroom. The fire is roaring and Joel takes a moment to imagine that the world didn’t end. That he met you in a bar and you decided to take him home.
In the bathroom, there’s still a bucket of warm water and you make sure you scrub every inch of your body, sure that he’s not fussed but you want to pretend like this happened organically. He’s attractive and someone you would have crushed on in college, even if he is a little older looking than you.
Joel licks his lips, his stomach twisting as he thinks about how strange life can be. One minute he’s out freezing in the wilderness and not sure if he’s gonna survive. The next, he’s preparing to take a woman’s innocence in her cabin that’s like a haven in the middle of nowhere. When the door opens again, he takes a second to inhale deeply before he looks at you. That breath is knocked from him when he sees you standing there dolled up in silk and lace. “I- wow. You look - wow.” He chokes pathetically, his cock twitching under the towel.
“I know it’s stupid.” You feel foolish for putting on the trappings of another time, another social expectation. “But I- I wanted to feel like this is normal. We are normal.” You step forward and devour the sight of him on your bed. “I’m not expecting words or emotions. I just wanted to pretend this was not desperation on both of our parts.”
Joel shakes his head, “it’s not desperation. It’s a connection. The need to feel something other than desire to survive. I want you. Thought you were gorgeous from the moment I saw you. Let me make you feel good. You’ve been alone for so long, you gotta be touch starved. Tell me what you need, sweetheart.” He says, standing up to walk towards you but stopping before he touches you.
You lick your lips, feeling wet because of his words. “Drop your towel.” You order softly. You’ve seen a naked man before, but you want to see this one, the one who will finally touch you like you’ve dreamed of. “I don’t know what I need, but I want you to touch me. Make me think of nothing but you.”
Joel doesn’t deny you. You deserve more than what he can give you but he can at least offer you his body. He drops the towel, his cock half hard as he stands before you and his dark eyes drop to your lips. “Can I kiss you?” He asks gently.
“Yes.” You whisper, eyes trailing up and down his body. He's not exactly hard, but he’s also not soft. Weathered, and experienced would be the words you would use to describe how he looks. Reaching out, you brush your fingers over his hot skin, resisting the urge to moan.
Joel closes his eyes briefly as you touch him with soft hands. He shuffles closer and reaches out to cup your cheek, leaning forward until he’s pressing his lips against yours. “Fuck.” He murmurs when you whimper into his mouth and he deepens the kiss, tilting your head so he can taste more of you.
This man, the same one who had threatened your life and tied you to a chair, completely consumes you. Taking control of the kiss and making you forget your hands are even on his chest as his tongue sweeps into your mouth and makes you moan.
He cups your other cheek, pressing close until his body is completely against yours. His tongue sliding against yours and you’re a little clumsy but so is he. It’s been a while since he kissed someone like this. His hands slide down from your cheeks until he is caressing your back and finally, his hands squeeze your ass.
Your eyes open and you hum into his mouth when his hands find your ass. Unable to believe that the simple squeeze feels so good. “Fuck.” You gasp when he pulls back to breathe.
You’re so reactionary already and that makes Joel harden, imagining the noises he can get out of you when he’s inside of you. He groans softly and kisses down your throat while you catch your breath, his hands kneading your flesh.
“Can I- can I touch you?” You ask, emboldened by his groan of permission. Your hands map hot skin, scars and you feel him shiver as they drift lower. Groaning yourself when your fingers wrap around his hard cock.
Joel’s breath hitches. It’s been so long since someone has touched him, since he allowed his mind to relax. “Baby.” He murmurs, his hands sliding up your back to the clasp of your bra. He undoes it and you let go of his cock so he can drag it off of your body. “Shit. Look at you.” He murmurs, tossing the bra down so he can cup your tits.
There’s something that is so raw about someone else’s hands on your body. The feeling is so different from your own. He throb when you squeeze him and it’s amazing how the book descriptions have it right. Velvet over steel. His cocks skin is so soft and warm, the hardness underneath such a contrast. “Can I-“ you pull away and start to sink down to your knees. “I want to-”
Joel swallows, his stomach twisting. “You don’t have to. This should be about you.” He says, “this is about making you feel good.” He shakes his head, “you don’t - this is - you don’t have to.” He repeats, not wanting to be selfish.
“I want to.” You confess, your cheeks hot with both desire and embarrassment. “If this is the only chance I have, I want to do it all.” You tell him, looking up and wrapping your fingers around his cock again.
Joel nods, unable to deny you when you ask him like that. He wants this to be all about you and even if what you want is to suck his cock. You kneel down before him and he swallows harshly as you look up at him with wide and innocent eyes.
He doesn’t rush you and you’re thankful for that. Obviously circumcised, the head of his cock is beautifully flushed and beading a clear liquid. “Tell me if I do it wrong.” You order before you lean forward and press the tip of your tongue to the slit.
Joel hisses, watching you as you close your eyes and take the head into your mouth. It’s more than he can take but he inhales deeply and calms down so he doesn’t ruin this for you. “Fuck baby.” He murmurs, opening his eyes to watch you.
You think that you’re doing it right from the way that Joel’s voice drops, hitting you in the pit of your stomach and you swear your cunt is dripping onto the floor. You hum, enjoying the clean taste and surprising saltiness of the pre-cum. Squeezing the base and keeping yourself from going too far and gagging.
Joel caresses your head, allowing you to take your time as you explore him. Your innocence is obvious but he likes it. You are doing this for yourself and he likes that you aren’t acting. Some girls used to make a show about sucking his cock and then complain they didn’t want to do it.
You appreciate that he will let you take your time. Slowly feeling what he likes, what makes him groan. You hollow your cheeks and push him a little deeper, until you feel your throat close and your eyes water as you look up at him.
“Jesus.” Joel hisses as you take him deeper. A tear slides down your cheek and he quickly wipes it away. “Baby. Don’t push yourself. Take your time. Feels so good.” He murmurs, wanting you to know that he’s enjoying this.
Your lips stretch around his cock in a smile and you swallow around him, enjoying the way he moans when you do. This is something that you had thought would just be for the experience, but you love it. Especially when his knees buckle slightly and his hand on your head flexes in pleasure.
“Baby. Let me - you need to- shit. I need - stop.” He chokes, not wanting to cum. It’s been way too long since he jerked off, unable to sneak off and leave Ellie alone even while she slept. He doesn’t want this to be over before he even gets to be inside of you.
“Are you sure?” You pout slightly, wiping your chin and looking up at him. You’re out of breath, your cunt aching and all you want is to see this man cum.
Joel nods, dragging you up and he surges down to meet you to press his lips to yours. Turning you, he walks you back towards the bed. He presses you down onto it, his lips trailing along your jaw as he straddles you.
You gasp and are taken by the dominance in the motion. This is a man who can be so damn sure of himself and capable. Your hands slide over his chest and around his sides to stroke his back as he nuzzles and kisses your pulse. “Joel.” You moan softly, as if he were an old lover.
He twitches at your moan, loving how his name sounds coming from your lips. He wants to hear more of it. He continues kissing down your body, his tongue sliding along your collarbone before he ducks down to take your nipple in his mouth after he cups your tit and tilts it up for him.
You had never imagined it would feel so good, your thighs pressing against his hips when he’s between them. Keeping you open as he circles your nipple with his tongue and scraps his teeth over it.
Joel takes his time, sucking and biting your nipple until it's puffy from his manipulations. He groans and switches to the other breast, his calloused hands squeezing both as he slowly grinds against you.
His cock is throbbing against your thigh, leaking and hot. Making. You whimper with pleasure as you imagine him inside you. There’s no fear, no hesitation. Not when he could be rough and quick and he’s taking the time to make you feel so good. “Joel.”
He groans as he releases your nipple, kissing down your sternum and he flicks his tongue into your belly button as he lays between your thighs. His dark eyes meet yours as he pushes them back to get a good look at your cunt. “Jesus. Such a pretty pussy.” He murmurs, his fingers sliding through your folds until he spreads them with his thumbs. Leaning in, his eyes focus on you as he flicks his tongue over your clit.
You gasp out a sound, half inhuman as you experience his tongue against your sex. Hot and wet, he’s not timid as he tastes you. This is a man who doesn’t mind getting dirty and diving into things, just like he’s proving with your cunt. Eyes wide, they are fixed on the man between your legs.
Joel groans as he laps at your cunt until he is pushing his tongue into you. Curling it and pushing your legs back so he can get deeper. Fuck, you taste amazing and he groans as you moan softly. He wants to make this good for you so he focuses on your clit, his hand sliding along your thigh until he's pushing a finger into you.
“Oh god.” You whine, your walls clenching down around his finger. “You- your fingers are thicker than mine.” Just one finger is stretching you out like you aren’t used to, or maybe it’s just because it’s not your finger but someone else’s. He presses deeper and you hiss in pleasure when he finds a spot deep inside you.
Joel loves the way you whine, glad he’s not hurting you, and he pumps his finger a few times before he adds another, wanting to stretch you out to take his cock. He’s girthy and he doesn’t want to hurt you in any way.
“Oh fuck.” You moan quietly. “Where have you been for the past twenty years?” You could have used him in your bed, to be your companion in this decidedly lonely life. “Fuck baby.”
“Survivin’” He answers honestly against your clit as he curls his fingers, scissoring them to stretch you out, and he loves the way you gush around his digits, getting closer to your orgasm. He wants you to cum like this for him.
“Yeah.” You nod and understand what he means. Closing your eyes and letting him push you towards an orgasm. The first one that you’ve ever experienced from someone else. “Joel.” You gasp, your thighs pressing against his broad shoulders and your hips push down. “Gonna- fuck, gonna cum!”
Joel grunts, loving the way you squirm beneath him and rock onto his fingers. He keeps the same pace until you are squealing, soaking his fingers with your orgasm and he’s so proud. He is glad you came so hard and he can tell you enjoyed it.
Your thighs are trembling and you’re breathing as hard as you did the night you had chopped down one of the big trees to let it cure. “Oh my god. Oh my god.” You can’t help but giggle a little, looking down at the man who is staring up at you with his chin on your inner hip. “That was….i have no words.”
Joel is pleased that you enjoyed it. He leans in to press his lips to your skin, kissing along your hip. You deserve some tenderness and he is happy to give it to you. He shifts to kiss up your body until he’s hovering above you. “You still want me inside of you?” He asks, wanting to make sure you still want him.
“All I want for Christmas is you.” You manage to tease breathlessly, reaching up and caressing his cheek. “Just- be gentle?” You ask, suddenly nervous about the thick cock that is throbbing against your belly. He feels like he could just cum against your skin right now if he rocked his hips a few times.
He chuckles softly, leaning in to kiss along your jaw. “You tell me if anything hurts and if you don’t like it.” He demands quietly, his dark eyes meeting yours and he caresses your thigh, lifting it up on his hip so he can reach down to grip his cock. “You ready?”
“Been waiting all my life, Joel.” You roll your hips down and moan when you feel his cock pressing against your cunt. “Better make it worth the wait.” It feels good to tease, to make it lighthearted. You know he won’t stay, so there’s no entanglements here.
He likes that you don’t want him to offer you sweet words and endearments when this isn’t that kind of experience. He wants it to be good for you. He positions himself at your entrance and slowly, so slowly, starts to push into you.
The feeling is so foreign, so overwhelming that your mouth drops open on a low moan. Fingers curling around his shoulders, nails biting into his skin lightly as your entire body quivers. “Fuuuuuuck.” You whine, hating that it’s taken so long to experience this.
Joel keeps his eyes focused on you, on your reactions. He doesn’t want to hurt you in any way. You shake beneath him and he slowly rocks into you, opening you up inch by inch on his cock. “You okay?” He rasps, trying to control himself. It’s been too long since he was inside of a woman and you’re unbelievably tight.
“Fucking amazing….” You moan, caressing his back and staring up at him in wonder. “It’s so, I’m so full.” You whimper, “move baby, I want to feel more.”
Joel isn’t even all the way in yet and you’re looking at him like he hung the moon. He pushes the final inch inside and your nails bite into his back. “Tell me if anything hurts.” He demands before he slowly starts to pull back, his eyes fixed on your face as he pulls out until only the tip remains before he’s pushing back into you.
“Jooooooelllllll.” You practically wail his name when his hips snap forward and he slides into you to the hilt with a delicious pressure that has your thighs tightening. “Oh god, it’s so- so good.”
Your reactions have him gritting his teeth to control himself. You’re so lost in the sensation and your cunt is gripping him, wet and hot. “That’s it baby. That’s it. Good girl.” He murmurs, caressing your side.
“Is it- does it feel good for you?” You want to know that he’s enjoying it too. This isn’t just about you. “Does it- oh god,” your eyes roll back when he thrusts into you again. “Fuck.”
“So good.” Joel promises gruffly, “you’re so - Jesus. I haven’t felt like this in so long.” He admits, knowing that while Tess was good, she didn’t make him want to blow his load within seconds of being inside of her. There was no emotional weight, just raw physical need. This is heavier and he feels it in the way he thrusts into you, wanting you to enjoy every second of this.
You moan softly, stroking his back and reaching up to run your fingers through his hair. “Fuck, I would be addicted to you.” You confess, your walls clenching down around him tight.
Hearing you say what he was thinking has him thrusting a little harder. He leans down to kiss you, sliding his tongue into your mouth to swallow your moan, wanting to absorb everything you give him.
It helps, his kiss. Your moans are getting loud and you don’t want to wake Ellie, even if you’re sure she’s dead to the world. Wanting to keep this moment for just you and Joel as he rocks into you again and again.
He wants you to cum more than once on his cock tonight. He slides his hand between you to find your clit, rubbing it as he pushes into you.
“Oh god. Oh fuck, Joel.” Your eyes widen when he starts to rub your clit. Immediately clenching down around him again. He is amazing.
Joel needs you to cum for him. He wants to hear it, feel it, see it. He rubs your clit a little faster and adjusts his hips, wanting you to cum for him.
“Ohhhhh, oh god!” You cry out, throwing your head back and moaning when you start to cum. Body shaking under Joel’s in pleasure.
Joel groans as he feels you start to cum. Pressing his lips to yours to smother your cries in case you wake Ellie, he works you through it. Continuing to rub your clit and make you shake beneath him.
You pant against his lips, grabbing his hand when it becomes too much and drag it up to your breast. Wanting him to feel all of you, to leave not part of you untouched.
He squeezes your tit, his lips pressing against your jaw and he takes a moment to slow down, let you ride your orgasm. He wants another one from you before he pulls out to cum. He groans, “you’re so fucking beautiful. Beautiful and just - shit. So good.” He praises you, unused to being a man of many words but you deserve this considering how long you’ve waited for this moment.
Now that you have cum, you pull your legs back, wrapping them around his waist. “Let me- let me ride you.” You beg, wanting to feel what it’s like to sit on a cock and ride it. “Please, can I- I just want to feel it.”
Joel swallows, wanting to give you whatever you desire tonight. You deserve it. All of it. He nods and pulls out of you, shifting to lay down against your pillows. “Take what you want, baby.”
Biting your lip, you throw your leg over his hip and straddle him. “It looks bigger like this.” You admit, smirking slightly as you wrap your hand around him. “It’s supposed to feel bigger too, right? Feel deeper?
Joel nods, “yeah. Yeah it is. So I’ve heard.” He says, his hands sliding up to caress your waist until he’s cupping your tits. He squeezes them, pinching your nipples as you pump his cock.
“Oh fuck.” You moan, rolling your head back as he toys with your tits. “I want to feel you.” You murmur, lifting your hips and positioning him at your entrance before you slowly start lowering onto his cock.
Joel’s eyes flick down to where his cock is disappearing inside of you and he groans at the sight. “Baby, fuck.” He hisses and his eyes meet yours when your mouth falls open at the way he stretches you out.
There’s something intoxicating and empowering about being on top. About the man under you taking what you want and letting you have control. You have no doubt he could overpower you, force you to submit to him, but he squeezes your hip and your breast in encouragement.
He watches you as you take what you want, what you need. It's an honor to watch you discover what you like as you start to move on top of him. He swallows harshly, knowing that he will need to tell you he needs to pull out but right now, he's happy to watch you and be still beneath you while you use his body.
He does feel bigger from this position. Making your eyes roll back when you are settled on him fully. “Fuck, it’s like you’re in my stomach.” You whine, loving the sensation. “I love this. Fuck, does it feel good for you?” You ask as you roll your hips slowly.
Joel inhales deeply, trying to control himself as your walls flutter around his cock. You feel like a goddamn vice, squeezing him, and you haven’t even cum in this position. “It’s - Christ, it’s fucking incredible.” He promises, his hands squeezing your hips before they slide around to squeeze your ass.
You moan in pleasure and start to roll your hips faster. Feeling incredible every time you sit back down on his cock and moan out his name softly.
“That’s it, baby. Take what you need.” He murmurs, watching you take your pleasure and his cock twitches inside of you. “You feel so good. So fucking good.” He rasps, his brow furrowed as he concentrates on you.
You feel powerful, invincible as you ride him. Bracing your hands on his chest as you bounce on his cock, the bed creaking and swaying under you. “Fuck, baby.” You whimper, throwing your head back. “This is amazing, you’re amazing.”
Joel groans as you bounce a little faster. “You’re - shit - I need you to cum for me.” His hand slides down to rub your clit. “Cum for me baby.” He orders, surging up to wrap his lips around your nipple.
His arm is trapped between you, fingers furiously rubbing your clit while his mouth deliciously assaults your nipple. Making you cry out again when that knot of pressure explodes and the hot rush of your orgasm washes through you. “Joel!”
He works you through it, your hips stuttering from their previous rhythm and he loves the way you cry out into his ear, soaking his cock with your orgasm. “Baby. I need- I gotta pull out.” He chokes against your breast as he withdraws his fingers from your clit.
“Okay, fuck- let me-“ you don’t want to pull off his cock, but you have to. Obviously there’s no birth control and you’ve never been on it. Sliding your hips back, you watch as Joel quickly takes his cock in his hand and gives hard, quick tugs to the stiff length.
He grunts, eyes fixed on you as he works himself to his orgasm. It only takes a half dozen thrusts until he is pulsing in his grip and spurts of hot seed hit his skin, some hitting yours and a low groan escaping his lips as the pleasure overtakes his system.
Leaning forward, you press your lips to his after watching the first ropes of cum splatter over his stomach. Moaning into his mouth as he pants into yours while he works himself through it, finding it the hottest thing you’ve ever seen in your life.
“Fuck.” He pants into your mouth, squeezing his cock as he milks himself dry and he slides his tongue against yours, slowly pumping himself until he works himself until it becomes too much. His free hand comes up to cup your cheek.
Catching your breath with the kiss, you smile when you can finally giggle. Feeling like you are flying from the endorphins and the pleasurable ache between your thighs. “Merry fucking Christmas.” You whisper. “Holy shit, thank you for that.”
Joel chuckles softly, kissing your chin when you lean back. “My pleasure, sweetheart. Jesus, I don’t think - yeah, I haven’t had sex like that since I was in my early twenties.” He confesses, “did you enjoy it?” He asks, wanting to make sure it was everything you wanted and more.
You flip your leg over his and collapse against his side. “I fucking loved it.” His cock is softening and it’s strange to see it lying against his stomach, cum pooling under the flaccid flesh. “Can I taste it?” You ask softly, wondering if he will think you are strange.
He nods, a little speechless. Most women never want to go near cum, let alone taste it without it being direct from the source. Tess wasn’t one to swallow, she always spat it out. You look entranced and that makes his cock twitch in interest.
You were going to swipe your fingers through the sticky mess on his stomach, but you decide against it. Instead, you lower your head and take the cum covered head of his cock into your mouth to clean it off with your tongue.
“Jesus Christ.” Joel hisses, overstimulated but fuck, you are gorgeous. He thinks you’re incredible. “Fuck, sweetheart.” He pants when you give him mercy and release his cock from your mouth. “What do you think?” He asks you breathlessly.
“I think that I want this again.” You look up and shoot him again. “When you can, of course.”
Joel chuckles, caressing your back. “Might be a while. I ain’t young. I ain’t - it takes a while.” He says with a blush, “and I want this to be perfect for you.” He says softly.
“It already is.” You promise with a smirk and roll over to grab your panties off the floor to wipe the rest of the cum off his stomach. “Right now, I want to sleep, if you want to stay?” You ask, not sure where he would want to sleep beside you just because he fucked you.
“I want to.” He promises you. Joel should go sleep on the couch but he doesn’t want to. He wants to curl around you and fall asleep. He reaches for you, pulling you close as you grab the duvet to pull it over you both.
The room is warm from the fireplace and the sex, making you sigh softly as you settle into his embrace. “Goodnight Joel.” You murmur quietly. “I hope you sleep well.”
Joel knows he will. He feels safe and secure for the first time in God knows how long. He wants to curl around you, breathe you in, and go to sleep. He kisses your forehead, “goodnight.” He murmurs and closes his eyes, pleased to be safe and sound.
****
The storm wakes him up, the wind blustering past the window and he blinks a few times to remember where he is. His cock is hard again, morning wood from you curled around his body, and he remembers every detail about last night. God, you gave him all of you. You didn’t hold back and he’s honored that you let him touch you. He wants to touch you again. His hand caresses your back, gently shifting you onto your back, and he snakes down between your thighs. Spreading them, he groans at the sight of your pussy under the sheets and he leans in to slide his tongue through your folds.
You don’t want to wake up, warm and comfortable with the weight of someone beside you, but the most pleasure feeling from between your legs rips you out of your dreams. Waking up and gasping out Joel’s name when you realize he’s got his tongue pressed against your clit under the sheets, feasting on you while you slept. “Oh god.”
He loves the way your voice is rough with sleep as he wakes you with his tongue. Sliding it into you and his nose presses against your clit while his fingers push your thighs back so he can get even deeper
“Oh my god.” You moan again, eyes rolling back and your fingers twisting into the sheets. “Merry Christmas Eve to me.” You pant out jokingly. “I’ve gotten my present.”
He chuckles against your flesh, pulling back to flick his tongue over your clit until he sucks it back into his mouth. “Merry Christmas Eve.” He murmurs softly, his hand trailing along your thigh until he can push two fingers into you.
The room is still fairly dark, from the shutters and the storm outside, the room is slightly chilly so you know the fire has burned low, but you are in a magical place. Reaching under and running your fingers through his hair. “Joel, you’re so good to me.”
He curls his fingers, sucking your clit into his mouth and he desperately needs you to cum for him again. To hear it, to feel it. He’s addicted to you and he wants to make you feel amazing while you give him and Ellie shelter during the storm.
Your breathing comes in waves, the pleasure sometimes making you forget how as he presses against a spot inside you that makes your toes curl. “Joel.” You gasp out. “I- oh shit!” You squeal when the pleasure rockets through you and catches you by surprise. Soaking his fingers with your release.
He’s surprised by the way you soak his fingers and chin. Loving it honestly. He groans and works you through it, cock hard as he grinds into the sheets and moans your name as he pulls back to gently kiss your clit.
“Oh my god.” You whine. “Please tell me you are hard?” You ask, panting as you catch your breath. “Please, please be hard. I want you inside me again.
He grunts, “I’m hard. Have been since I woke up. Feel like a damn teenager.” He says, kissing up your body until he is pressing his lips to yours. His hard cock pressed against your thigh. “How do you want me, baby?” He asks softly, wanting you to continue to be in control.
“Just like this?” You know that it’s not emotional, but you can’t help but wrap your legs around his waist as your hands slide up his arms to curl around the back of his neck. “Slow? We have all day until Ellie wants food.” You joke. “It’s still early yet. She’s snoring.”
Joel nods, knowing the emotions between you are only because of your physical connection, of what you’ve given him. He swallows harshly and leans in to softly kiss you as he reaches between you to position his cock at your entrance, slowly pushing in.
You moan softly. Loving how gentle he is. You know that he’s tough, he could have hurt you, but he’s gone out of his way to make this amazing for you. “Joel.” You whimper into his mouth.
Your walls grip him and he hisses as your nails scratch down his back. “Sorry.” You mutter and he shakes his head, “no, I liked it.” He promises and pushes all the way in. He pulls back to look into your eyes as he starts to rock his hips, taking in every detail of your pleasured face.
Just like you asked him to, he takes his time. Staring down at you with a tenderness that almost makes you believe that this is real. This is your partner, maybe your husband, making love to you. “So good.” You whine softly. “I could spend the rest of my life right here.”
He knows you’re talking from a place of pleasure and not reality. He has to move on, to take Ellie west and find his brother. He rocks into you, caressing your side until he’s cupping your breast, squeezing it as he leans down to kiss along your neck.
It’s all you could want, this moment right here. You will be remembering it for a long time after this man is gone. You moan softly and tighten your thighs around him as he fucks you. Your walls clenching down around him.
Your walls grip him and he rocks slow and deep, wanting to hear and feel you fall apart beneath him again. “That’s it, baby. Christ, you feel good. So wet and tight around me.” He murmurs, loving the way you gasp when he lowers his pelvis so he can grind against your clit.
Biting your lip, you keep yourself from Asking him to stay. To settle here with you, him and his charge. You’re lonely, you can admit that. But you don’t say anything, just moaning when he works you back up to the edge.
He can tell you’re close. “Cum for me baby.” He demands, grinding lower and he pinches your nipple. “Cum for me. Cum.” He growls, needing you to fall apart for him again.
You shudder and can’t help but fall over the edge. Loving the roughness of the pitch and the desperation in his voice. Tilting your head back, you cry out softly as you shake under him in the most intense orgasm yet.
Joel pants as you cum around him, soaking him, and it’s an orgasm that seems to overtake your every sense. Your eyes close as you cry softly and he wishes he could commit that to memory. “That’s it, sweetheart. Shit. I- I gotta pull out. Got me worked up.” He confesses, reluctantly pulling his cock from inside of you. He reaches down to grip himself, pumping his length as he watches you recover.
“Cum in my mouth.” You immediately pant, reaching for him and pulling on his body as you beg. Wanting to see him cum as he fills your mouth is something you want to memorize.
Joel can’t deny you. He lets go of his cock and he shuffles up your body, straddling your chest. You lean forward to take his cock into your mouth and he groans. “Fuck. I- I’m not gonna last.” He confesses, “do you - fuck.” He chokes, pumping his cock as you suck on the tip.
Your eyes widen when the first rope of cum shoots into your mouth. Much harder than you had expected, it hits the back of your throat and forces you to start swallowing. Loving how his cock is pulsing, throbbing in your mouth as he spills, your hand gripping his hip to keep him close as you try to swallow every drop.
He closes his eyes as you take everything he gives you and he grunts your name, cock twitching inside of your mouth and his hand cups your cheek. “Fuckkkk.” He exhales shakily, one last slow thrust into your mouth until he pulls out of you.
Some of him has spill out of the corners of your mouth, making you lick your lips when he pulls out. “That was amazing.” You sigh, caressing his thigh as he hovers over you. “Thank you for the experience. And the wake up.”
Joel shifts off of you, reaching for you to curl you into his side. He cups your cheek and leans down to press his lips to yours. Not caring about the lingering taste of his cum. He doesn’t care about that. He kisses you firmly until he pulls back to nudge his nose against yours, “thank you for - well, I didn’t expect this when I saw smoke coming from your cabin.”
“I didn’t expect to have people come.” You admit easily, “but I’ve enjoyed having you both here. And while the storm blows, we will be nice and cozy here. And when you decide to leave, I’ll pack you up some supplies.” You offer softly.
Joel nods, unable to say anything else as you curl around him. He relaxes into the pillows, wanting to savor this time where he doesn’t have to fight for survival, to fight for his and Ellie’s lives. He kisses your forehead and closes his eyes, allowing himself to imagine a life spent here with you in safety.
Your eyes pop open when you hear the other bedroom door open. Joel is still asleep beside you and slowly, you ease out of the bed. Dressing quickly, you slip out of the room and out to find Ellie looking around. “Where’s Joel?” She demands, knowing the bar is still on the door and his gun is still here.
“He’s asleep.” You look back towards the bedroom. “Why don’t we build up the fire and I’ll start breakfast?”
Ellie nods, confused that Joel is still asleep. He never sleeps this much. He must be exhausted from all the late nights. You walk over to the fire and Ellie follows, "so...Joel slept in your room?" She asks teasingly.
“He did.” You aren’t embarrassed, but you don’t offer anything else. You aren’t sure if Joel would want her to know his business. Bending down. You stir the coals to life and quickly add more wood.
Ellie nods, “good. He needs to relax.” She isn’t sure what you guys did but she’s glad Joel isn’t fighting for survival right now. “It’s Christmas Eve!I” She remembers, “we can have hot chocolate, right?” She asks, excited for the holiday she’s never celebrated.
“We can.” You nod and smile at her eagerness. “And tomorrow, you will get some Christmas presents.” It might just be some old clothes you have and some socks that you had knitted, but you would be able to give her something.
Ellie’s eyes widen, “presents?” She asks and you nod. “I- wow.” She surges forward to hug you, “thank you. This is - this is the best fucking place ever.”
“You’re welcome.” You laugh softly and hug her back. “Don’t be too excited, it’s not a Nintendo or one of those gaming systems that were all the rage the last time Christmas was popular, but it’s given in the spirit of making you happy.”
“Nintendo?” Ellie asks and she snaps her fingers. “I used to - me and my friend-” Her eyes get dark with a loss that you know too well. “I- I lost my friend. We used to play arcade games in this abandoned mall until she was-” Ellie trails off.
“I’m sorry.” You tell her quietly. Everyone has lost someone during this time, but it’s obvious that this friend had been dear to Ellie. “Hopefully one day you can find a place to play again, smiling when you think about her.”
Ellie nods, appreciating how you don’t treat her like a little kid and you actually tell her how you think without censoring stuff. She appreciates you treating her like she should be. Joel tries to censor stuff but he can only do so much in this new world. “So…what’s for breakfast?” She asks.
“Well, I still have some eggs from the chickens, so I had thought we would have eggs and wildberry oat cakes.” You grin. “Like pancakes, but I ground up the oats for the flour.”
Ellie grins, “fuck yes.” She makes a fist and you giggle at her enthusiasm for something so simple. “I can help. I’m sure Joel will be up soon.” She offers and you nod.
Joel groans as he wakes up, his body stiffening as he tries to remember where he is until it hits him. He’s safe. It’s Christmas Eve. He swallows harshly and rubs his forehead as he sits up and reaches for the pajama pants you gave him that belonged to your father.
In the kitchen, the stove is hot, and you’re showing Ellie how you had ground up the oats using an old hand crank coffee grinder. Putting her to work with a grin as she talks to you.
Joel comes into the kitchen, finding you and Ellie cooking. “Something smells good.” He murmurs and walks over to you, he leans in to press a soft kiss to your neck.
Ellie puffs out a laugh and quickly turns her head. “I didn’t see nothin’ man.” She insists before showing Joel the oak cakes she had made, flavored with the dried wild berries you had picked this summer.
Joel appreciates the fact that she doesn’t call him out and he admires the oat cakes with a hum. “You did a good job, kid.” He praises her, suddenly able to let himself feel like the man he was before shit hit the fan. His shoulders aren’t tense, he doesn’t feel like he’s going to die every moment of the day. He ruffles her hair and she growls, making him chuckle.
You see that he’s relaxed and you smile, happy that you can provide that for this duo. To be a safe haven in the literal storm. “I thought that we would eat breakfast and then I will go into the cellar and bring up the small ham.” You offer Joel with a shrug. “I had planned on a small ham steak when it was just me, but it would be nice to have a proper Christmas dinner tomorrow?”
Joel bites his lip, “I don’t want you to waste all your food, sweetheart. You gotta survive the winter and I don’t- we don’t need to eat much. I’m already fuller than I’ve been in months.” He confesses, “don’t waste your resources.” He orders softly, not wanting to be the reason you go without.
“Joel….” You shake your head. “I have plenty of food.” You promise. “Although, I will need to get out to the barn at some point. Check on the animals.”
Joel nods, “I can do that. You stay in the warmth. I can see if there’s anything to hunt as well.” He adds, wanting to do his part. “I- I haven’t celebrated Christmas in many years and I- I do want this one to be special.” He admits and reaches up to cup your cheek.
“It will be special.” You agree, melting slightly at how kind he is being. “We will make sure of it. But you need to eat before going out in the cold.”
Ellie has never seen Joel like this before. He’s gentle. Something she hasn’t really witnessed. She’s seen the worst of Joel. The terrifying moments that he saved her life by doing what needed to be done. She’s never seen him caress someone. She focuses on the oat cakes as she turns away from the intimate moment, wanting to give Joel the time to enjoy this before he hardens up into the survivor he is
Breakfast is finished and it’s strange sitting down with other people, often it’s you and one of the books you are rereading. But it’s festive. You and Joel start talking about old Christmas traditions and Ellie is intrigued by the idea of ugly sweater contests.
Joel chuckles at her reaction, “yeah. Sarah used to make me and my brother Tommy wear the ugliest sweaters she could find.” His chuckles die down after a second, reminded of Sarah, and he frowns at how his heart aches but he’s happy to have the memories. “Another one was, uh, mistletoe.” He says, trying to distract from his reaction.
“Yeah.” You snort and grin. “Mistletoe actually grows wild around here.” You admit. Ellie has a confused look on her face. “If you were with a partner or a friend under the mistletoe, you had to kiss.” You explain with a small shrug.
Ellie smirks, "you should get some mistletoe. You know....so you guys have an excuse to kiss." She giggles and Joel clears his throat, raising his eyebrows at you. It's not the worst idea he has ever heard.
You shake your head, remembering how meddling teenagers can be. “I think that we will make the candy this morning.” You decide, eyeing Ellie. “How does that sound? Have the hot chocolate once Joel is back inside and everything is cozy again?”
Ellie nods enthusiastically, “hell yes.” She is so excited. She hasn’t experienced anything like this before. Joel smiles, pleased that she is happy. He remembers how much Sarah loved Christmas. “I’ll, uh, go get ready and I’ll go check on the animals.”
“Northwest corner, two hundred yards from the front door.” You’re sure that he had seen the barn, but just in case, you tell him. “I’ll bring in some more wood.”
Joel nods, standing up to go get dressed. You left some of your father’s clothes on the chair for him. If he thought it would be strange wearing a dead man’s clothes when the outbreak first happened, he’s immune to it now. Knowing that no one is making new clothes. At least not in the wilderness. He gets dressed and puts on his coat and boots, ready to face the storm for you.
You show Ellie how to clean up and start to bundle up as well. “Don’t stay out there too long.” You beg Joel as he grabs his rifle. “We don’t need meat too bad for you to risk yourself.”
Joel nods, knowing that he’s taken a lot of risks in life. He won’t linger out in the cold. He has to think of Ellie, of getting her where she needs to go. He winces as the storm blows in his face as he makes his way outside.
“I wish he wouldn’t try to hunt.” You murmur to Ellie as you wrap a scarf around your neck. “There’s plenty of food in the cellar.”
Joel squints through the blizzard as he makes his way into the barn, the animals all huddled together and Joel exhales, the cold air puffing as he checks on the animals, refreshes the water and hay, and makes his way back outside to see if he can find a lone deer or something.
With Ellie opening and closing the door for you, you manage to bring in another good few hauls of wood inside. Wanting to make sure that you stay nice and cozy over the next day or so. With Joel checking the animals, they should be set for a couple of days. You had meant to check them before the storm hit, but Joel and Ellie’s unexpected arrival had thrown that off. You had known the animals had plenty of food and water, but now you know they will be set for a few days.
Joel shivers as he picks up the two rabbits he managed to shoot and he makes his way back to your cabin. He knocks on the door and you unlock it. He shakes off the snow from his jacket as he enters the cabin, wiping off his boots and you take the rabbits so he can take them off along with his jacket.
“Go sit by the fire.” You huff, seeing how chapped his cheeks are and you rush over to the stove. You boiled together an herb tea, thinking it would be good for warming up the bones after coming back and you pour him a cup. “It’s herbs, but it’s tasty and hot.” You tell him, handing him the steaming mug. “I have some Vaseline for your cheeks.”
Joel huffs at you fussing over him but he secretly likes it. He rolls his eyes as he rubs his hands over the fire, feeling Ellie watching him with a smirk on her face. “We are gonna make candy today.” She tells him and he nods, trying to remember the last time he had candy.
You stoke the fire and pull out the large black cauldron to boil the sap. “So I have some syrup from my trees that we will boil down into a sticky candy.” You explain as you swing the hook around and set it up. “Then we pour it over clean snow.”
“Jesus. You have it all figured out, don’t cha sweetheart?” Joel says with awe in his voice. He’s never seen someone so capable except Bill. Only Bill never made goddamn candy. “Does it taste good?” He asks you.
“It’s amazing.” You shrug slightly, preening slightly at his praise. “We’ve been doing sugar boils for a long time. If you cook it down, you have sugar for the year.”
Joel hums, impressed at your ingenuity and your survival skills. “Sugar? For a year? Damn. I might never leave.” Ellie jokes and Joel meets your eyes, a hopeful sadness to them that makes his heart clench.
“You would be welcomed back anytime you’re traveling through the area.” You promise, although you know that you would probably never see them again when they leave. It’s just the way the world works now. “It takes a lot of sap, but there’s a lot of trees. I hang the buckets when the sap runs and gather it up once a day.”
Joel is impressed, certain that he’s never met a woman like you. Most women are strong in this new world but you seem to be thriving. Joel warms his hands and Ellie announces she’s gonna wash her hands before she helps you. Joel looks up as you walk over to him, displaying a piece of mistletoe in your hand. He stares at it for a second before he smiles, reaching for you. He cups your cheek and leans in to kiss you softly.
Leaning into the kiss, there’s something soft and sweet about this. You needed this. A reminder that you aren’t alone in the world and that there is good. Things to live for.
Joel knows he should be distancing himself from you but it’s hard. He pecks your lips when he hears the bathroom door open and he steps back just as Ellie enters the room. “Let’s make some candy!” She declares, rubbing her hands together.
Laughing at her enthusiasm, you show her how you are going to do it, bringing up a bucket of the sap from the cellar and pouring it into the cast iron cauldron. Soon, it’s bubbling over the fire and the entire house smells like syrup.
Joel watches you and Ellie work, making himself useful by gutting the rabbits for dinner. This feels too easy. Too domestic. It scares him a little.
It takes a long time, but Ellie is giggling as you talk about growing up here and thinking all the traditions and old ways were ridiculous when you were learning them. “Yeah, but now you have sugar.” She reminds you, making you grin. “True. And now, I’ve taught you some of the things that should never die out. Like the Christmas songs.”
Ellie grins, “so fucking cool. I wish I could’ve seen it. Before the world went to shit. How cool it must’ve been with the lights and the trees and - and the presents!” She exclaims and Joel sighs softly under his breath, wishing he could give her that dream but he can’t.
“It was really cool.” You admit. “There are times I wished that we had some sort of natural power. To run the lights.”
Ellie nods, “me too. Back in Boston, we had solar and some other sources but it wasn’t enough for a ton of lights.” She confesses, not really knowing much about how the QZ operated. Joel watches you interact with Ellie and he smiles, enjoying the way you seem to connect with her more than he has managed in months. He’s excited to spend Christmas with you and the kid. “You finish that candy yet?” He asks about an hour later.
“Almost.” You roll your eyes playfully at Ellie. About five minutes before, you had gathered clean snow in pans and you had shown her how to drizzle the thick, liquid candy into the snow and she had gone to town. “Come taste.”
Ellie grabs herself a piece, groaning at the taste, and Joel can't resist. He comes over after washing his hands and you pop a piece of candy into his mouth. He groans as the sugar hits his tongue. "Fuck, that - that's damn good." He murmurs, closing his eyes.
“Glad you enjoy.” You smile as it looks like Joel is having a religious experience. “I was thinking that some of the syrup might be used to bake the ham?” You ask, unsure of what they might think of the idea.
He nods, swallowing the candy, and finally opening his eyes. "Yes. Yes. That - Jesus, that's damn good." He confesses, licking his lips. Ellie turns her back to you both and he leans in to kiss you softly, letting you taste it from his lips.
Your eyes flutter closed and you wish that you could sink into the kiss but the kid is right here. You pull back reluctantly and smile.
The kiss is quick and Joel offers you a smirk as Ellie turns back just as he straightens up and he smiles at you softly, "let's get ready for Christmas." Joel says and Ellie grins, "fuck yes."
The day seems to go perfectly. You have decorations that you pull out and Ellie gets to squeal over. Soon the living room is filled with garland and bows, the small tree you had brought in just because you love the pine scent haphazardly decorated with the old ornaments. Adding to the decorations that you had up before they arrived. You sneak into the rooms and pull out items that both Joel and Ellie can use when they leave, a nice hunting knife that was your brothers for Ellie, thick socks and a heavy lined leather jacket for Joel, along with other things. You wrap them in scapes of flannel and bring out a stack of them to put under the tree.
Joel comes out of the bathroom to find Ellie shrieking over the tree. His eyes widen, "wow. I- shit. This is - presents?" He frowns, confused about what you managed to find to wrap up. He feels bad he didn't get you anything but he might have an idea of what to get you.
You smile at the unbridled joy on the teens face and shrug. “Just popped down to the store.” You joke. “Last minute Christmas deals are fantastic.” You had managed to find a pocket watch of your grandfather’s that was solar powered. You plan on giving it to Joel and telling him to charge it when he leaves since his wrist watch is broken.
Joel chuckles, coming over to you and he wraps his arm around your waist. “Thank you for making this so special for her.” He says, kissing your cheek. He allows himself to be tender, to shed the hard shell he hides in when he’s out there trying to survive.
“She’s a good kid.” You acknowledge, leaning into him. “I’m honestly happy that the two of you were here.” You bite your lip. “I was wondering what was the point of living out here by myself.”
Joel frowns, not liking the sound of that. He knows what it's like to be alone. "Then maybe...maybe you'll meet someone who will stay here with you. You gotta keep fighting. You gotta keep living. Otherwise all of this would've been for nothing." He says softly, his dark eyes burning into yours.
“Maybe.” You smile, the motion slightly bittersweet and shrug. “It’s not exactly a major metropolitan area. But maybe lightning will strike twice. You came when I needed something other than my own voice.”
Joel nods, letting go of you. He knows you want him to stay. If he’s honest, he wouldn’t mind staying, but he can’t. He has to find Tommy. He has to get Ellie where she needs to go. “You’ll be okay. You’re too good to not be.” He says softly as Ellie marvels over the tree. “Who wants to start preparing dinner?” You ask and Ellie nods, happy to help.
Dinner isn’t the ham, you are saving that for tomorrow, but the rabbit casserole you had decided on would go over well. You show Ellie what you are doing and how you make it and in no time, you’re sliding the dish into the oven.
Joel feels relaxed and he notices the guitar in the corner of the room. “Do you play?” He asks, trying to remember the last time he played the guitar.
“I do.” You smile at the guitar. “My father taught me a long time ago. After the world ended, it was the way we entertained ourselves during the evenings.”
“You play? I’ve always wanted to learn.” Ellie declares, eyes wide as she walks over to the guitar. “I used to play. Back in the day. I- I didn’t - haven’t played in years.” Joel confesses, “maybe we can teach you some chords?” He offers Ellie, wanting to give her something since you wrapped up some presents.
Joel nods, “I’m sure we can arrange that.” He promises and Ellie beams.
“Great! That - fuck yes.” She says and Joel doesn’t reprimand her like he normally does. It’s Christmas Eve.
“Come on, kid. Let’s help with the dinner.”
Ellie sets the table and Joel pours out the herbal tea you had made. “There’s a bottle of wine in the cellar.” You offer, shrugging slightly. It’s your last bottle but it’s a good excuse to open it as any. “It’s Christmas Eve.”
Joel won’t deny you if you want a drink. Hell, Bill and Frank went through most of their wine during their years together. He wouldn’t mind a glass. “Can I have a glass?” Ellie asks and Joel shakes his head, “no. You’re too young.”
You tilt your head and bite your lip, knowing it’s not your place to interfere, but you do anyway. “I don’t think a glass would hurt.” You offer. “My father let me have a small glass of wine on special occasions starting at ten years old.”
“Pleaseeee.” Ellie asks, “I used to drink vodka. Sneak it back in the QZ.”
Joel sighs, knowing the world has gone to shit and so have social standards. He nods, “one glass.” Ellie hisses in victory and Joel snorts, “one glass.” He repeats, knowing he has to limit himself too just in case something happens. You have to always be prepared.
You hide your smirk of triumph as you get down the wine glasses. “Joel, will you go down to the cellar? The wine rack is on the left.”
Joel nods, making his way downstairs to the cellar and he sees the stored food you have there. It’s impressive. It’s clear you’ve prepared a lot and he is proud of you. You’re not his. He’s not yours, but he’s proud of the strong, capable woman you are. He grabs the wine, blowing off the dust and he carries it up the stairs.
You are pulling the casserole out of the oven when Joel comes upstairs. “Perfect timing.” You smile softly, wishing you could have this every day. “Ellie, throw another log on the fire, will you?” You ask the girl.
Ellie nods, stoking the fire, and Joel takes the wine opener, remembering how to open a bottle of wine. He pulls out the cork and grabs the glasses, pouring three glasses just as you serve up the casserole.
“Soon, the snow will bury the cabin and insulate it even more.” You muse, the wind still rattling the shutters as the snow falls. “But we are nice and cozy here. The living room looks so festive thanks to Ellie’s decorating.”
Joel hands you a glass before he hands one to Ellie, teasing her by pulling it back for a moment before letting her have it. He takes his own glass in hand and clinks it with yours and Ellie. “Merry Christmas.” He declares, reminded of when he and Tommy would cheers with beers on Christmas Eve.
“Merry Christmas.” You hum and Ellie beams. “Merry Christmas!” She all but shouts it out, making you laugh.
“Let’s sit down and eat while it’s hot, shall we?” You ask and the teenager practically bolts for the table.
Joel chuckles and takes a seat. It’s strange to enjoy this time. To not feel like he constantly has a target on his back. He sips the wine after he sits down and groans softly at the smell of the casserole. “God, you could’ve opened a restaurant back in the day.” He compliments you.
“Thank you.” You fluster at the compliment and bite your lip. “I am sure that anything tastes good when food can be scarce.” You know you’re lucky, you had a family who worked hard and prepared so you can reap the benefits of it for years to come. “Merry Christmas, Ellie, Joel.”
Ellie holds her glass up, feeling so fucking cool as she clinks her glass with yours and says “Merry Christmas.”
Joel smiles, clinking his glass and when his eyes meet yours, he can’t help but stare for a long moment. Taking in this rare minute of peace and happiness in his otherwise turbulent world. He feels safe and secure. A rarity. And all because of you. “Merry Christmas, sweetheart.” He murmurs, winking at you.
You fluster again, feeling your cheeks heating up and you smile. It’s been such a whirlwind and you have enjoyed having them. “May your next Christmas be just as cozy.”
Joel doubts it, unable to confirm if he’s even going to be alive for the next Christmas but he murmurs a “thanks” and takes another sip of the wine. You grin and he continues eating his dinner with a groan at how good the food is after so long without consistent meals.
The meal is finished, devoured by both Joel and Ellie taking seconds and in the younger girl’s case, thirds. You smile at Ellie after she clears the table and notice that her cheeks are flushed. “How did you like wine?” You hadn’t missed her slipping some more wine from the bottle.
“It was…okay.” She admits, “kinda burned.”
Joel snorts, “that’s what it’s supposed to you. You get used to it. Then it tastes good.” He promises and ruffles her hair. “I think it’s time for you to go to bed. Sleep off the wine.” Joel tells the teenager.
You laugh when Ellie yawns and wish her a good night. “Presents in the morning!” She cheers and quickly shuffles off to the room that is hers for now. “I’ll clean up and then we can sleep if you want.” You offer.
Joel waits until Ellie’s door is shut and he shakes his head, setting down the plate you have in your hand on the counter, before he reaches for you to drag you against his body. His nose nudges your chin, dragging along your jaw until he whispers in your ear, “I don’t want to sleep.”
Shivering, you lean into his touch. “What do you want to do?” You whisper, almost afraid that you are reading the situation wrong.
Joel smiles against your skin, “everything. Want to touch you again. Hear you moan my name.” He murmurs, his hands sliding up until he is cupping your tits. “Want to feel you.” He whispers harshly, his mouth going dry at the idea of sliding into you again.
You moan softly and nod. “I want that too.” You agree, pressing up against him shamelessly. It’s thrilling that he wants you, even if it’s just because of convenience. Even if he just wanted you because of that, he wants you.
His hands squeeze your breasts as he kisses along your neck. “You’re so beautiful, darlin’. Wanna make you moan my name again.” He murmurs, sliding his hands back down to grip your waist and he turns you so he can softly kiss you.
The kisses you’ve shared have become familiar, your own hand sliding up into his hair as you kiss him back. Falling into his arms easily as he presses you into the counter.
His tongue slides into your mouth and he groans at the warmth of your body. He loves it. He groans into your mouth and his hands caress your body. “Bedroom.” He murmurs, wanting to see all of you.
Joel is one step behind you as you eagerly disappear into the bedroom. You’ll have to come back out, but for right now, you want nothing more than this man for Christmas.
He shuffles you into the bedroom, gently kicking the door shut behind him, and his hands grab the hem of your shirt, eager to pull it over your head. “Fuck baby. You’re so goddamn gorgeous.” He murmurs before surging down to kiss along your chest, kissing every inch of skin he can access until he bites down on your nipple through your bra.
“Joel.” You moan softly, eyes flitting closed and you are eager for him to touch you again. The fact that he is eager makes you drip with arousal. “Touch me again.” You beg softly. “Make me- I want you to fuck me.”
Joel groans as you beg him and how can he resist? He reaches behind you to unclasp your bra and drags it down your body, exposing your breasts which he eagerly attacks with his mouth, wrapping his lips around your nipple to suck and bite on it while his other hand squeezes your other breast.
His touch is burned into your skin. You will feel it for the rest of your life. Moaning, you reach down to unbutton your pants, eager to strip down and have him inside you again.
He chuckles into your flesh at the way you shove your pants down your legs and he helps you. When you’re naked, he guides you back towards the bed and pushes you down onto it. “Tell me what you want, baby.” He murmurs, his voice quiet but demanding.
You look up at him and bite your lip. “Strip for me.” You demand, wanting to see this rough, virile man take his clothes off for you. “I want to see all of you. And then I want you to make me cum.”
He can’t deny you. He shifts off of you and works on the buttons of the shirt you gave him. He slowly unbuttons it and exposes his chest. His dark eyes focus on you as he works on the belt before he unbuttons his jeans, shoving them down alongside with his briefs to expose his half hard cock.
“I want to suck your cock again before you leave.” Your cunt throbs and you have to press your thighs together. “It made me so wet.” You admit. “Want to see if it will happen again. Maybe you could cum in my mouth again?”
Joel groans, “baby. You- you don’t have to. I want to taste you again. Maybe…you wanna sit on my face and suck my cock?” He asks, always wanting to give you the choice.
You clench around nothing, turned on by the idea and you nod quickly. “Please.” You beg. “I - is it bad that I want to suck your cock? I love the way you moan.”
He s hakes his head,“not bad. Most women…they don’t like sucking cock.” He confesses. He shifts to lay down on the bed beside you. His cock hardens at the idea of you sitting on his face and he pats his cheek, “take a seat, sweetheart.”
You giggle slightly and bite your lip, wondering how to best do this. Joel takes your thigh and starts to guide you over him. “This is- really intimate.” You huff, feeling a little exposed with your holes on display to him.
He smiles, “it is but I’ll take care of you.” He promises and you hover over his face. He groans at your wet folds and he grabs your ass, pulling you down onto him with a moan of your name that’s soon smothered when his tongue slides through your folds.
Like last night and this morning, Joel’s tongue is magical, making you forget all about everything but the pleasure of him between your thighs. Until his cock twitches in front of your face because of your moans. Wrapping your fingers around his thick girth, you lean down and take the head into your mouth eagerly.
“Jesus.” He hisses into your pussy, his tongue going lazy from his swipes as you take him into your mouth. “Fuck.” He mutters into your folds and he hisses when you moan around him. Reignited, he goes hard on making you moan again, sucking your clit into his mouth.
It becomes a competition, seeing who can make the other moan louder, to stop pleasuring the other because the intensity is too much. You pump the base of his cock and take him deep into your mouth.
Joel groans into your flesh as you take him deeper, swallowing around him. He sucks on your clit, desperately trying to make you cum on his face.
You can't help but moan around his cock, grinding your hips back shamelessly onto his face. You had gotten over your embarrassment really quickly when you learned how much he liked this. It makes you take him deeper, swallowing around him as he spurs you on.
Joel groans into your cunt as you rock back onto him, helping him get you closer to cumming on his face. He pants as you work his cock a little harder, spit gathering in the coarse hair at the base of his length, and he grabs your hips, working you a little faster on top of him.
It's becoming a frenzy. Both of you are trying so hard to make the other break but Joel has the advantage of experience on his side. His grip shifts and he presses his thumb against your other hole, making you choke around his cock and the next flick of his tongue sends you flying.
Joel loves how you cry out, unable to care if you wake Ellie up as you moan so sweetly for him. He works you through it, his thumb pressed against your puckered hole until it slightly dips in to stretch you and he continues flicking your clit until you cry out in protest.
You rock your hips forward, pulling away from his still working mouth to make him chuckle. Taking his cock back in your mouth in an almost desperate attempt to make him feel just as overwhelmed although you know he will probably not want to finish in your mouth right now.
Joel pulls back, “wanna- wanna make you cum on my cock.” He pants, “please baby. Hands and knees.” He orders, wanting to do something different for you to experience everything while he’s here.
Moaning, you scramble off of him, eager to try the position you had always wanted to feel. You had been too nervous to ask if he would fuck you that way, but now you get what you want without ever even asking. “Fuck me.” You beg, looking over your shoulder as he shuffles to his knees.
Joel groans, leaning in to press his body against yours, his cock sliding along the crack of your ass. “Fuck baby. You’re - shit - you’re so pretty.” He murmurs, caressing your back before he grips his cock and positions himself at your entrance, slowly pushing into you.
Honestly, this position is more intense for you. He feels bigger than he had when you were riding him. Your back bows slightly and you push back to let him grind into him even more. "You're pretty." You gasp out, closing your eyes. You're sure that he's just saying that because he's inside you but you are a sure thing. He can fuck you as often as he wants while he's here. "More baby, please."
He can’t fucking deny you anything when your pussy is choking him like a goddamn vice. He pants and caresses your ass before smacking it. “You want more?” He asks and your pathetic whine makes him chuckle. He goes harder, his hips hitting your ass, and he eagerly watches the flesh jiggle.
All you can do is hold on, your fingers twisting in the sheets under you. After a particularly rough thrust, your elbows give out and you collapse down onto your face, right as you moan out his name. "Jooooooeeeellllllllll."
He groans, “that’s it baby. God, feel so fuckin’ tight around my cock.” He hisses, thrusting deep and hard. He shifts to plant his foot on the bed, jaw clenched as he works to push you into an orgasm. He wants to hear it again.
Rocking into you harshly, you grunt and moan while he fucks you. Clenching down around him every time he pushes deep, you love the way he twitches inside you. “Joel, fuck, yes.”
He groans as you clench around him. He reaches down to rub your clit, “cum for me. Cum for me baby.” He leans over you, kissing along your neck.
His chest is at your back and you moan. The expert touch of his fingers quickly has your body bucking under his. Starting to cum just like he ordered you to.
Joel groans when you clamp around his cock. He pants into your ear, kissing along your neck, and he rubs your clit a little faster to work you through it. “That’s it, baby.” He coos, rocking into you.
You pant against the sheet and moan. Wishing that he would fill you up just once so you could experience it. “Cum for me.” You whimper, closing your eyes in bliss.
He pants, so close to orgasm, and he hisses as he rocks into you. Over and over again. “Fuck. I- shit. Shit. Shit.” He manages to pull out just as he cums over your ass and back, hot seed hitting your skin.
You whine at the loss of his cock inside you, humming as you listen to him gasp for breath. “Fuck.” Your grin is tired and satisfied as you slowly straighten out on the bed. You know you will have to let him clean you up, or go to the bathroom to clean, but you don’t want to move right now.
Joel is uncaring as he looms over you and kisses along your neck. “So good, baby.” He murmurs, caressing your side until he’s shuffling off of the bed to head into the bathroom to clean you up.
Listening to someone move around the house is a luxury that you savor. Closing your eyes again with a smile on your face. Almost ready to beg him to stay and help you stave off the loneliness but you know he can’t.
Joel comes back in with a wet rag to clean you. He caresses your skin after you’re clean and leans down to kiss you softly. “Get into bed, sweetheart. It’ll be Christmas morning before you even know it.” He promises, tossing the rag in the sink after cleaning himself up and he pulls the covers back for you to get under them.
You climb into bed and into his arms. Enjoying the strength and steadiness of his heart beating in his chest. “Good night, Joel.” You murmur, holding back a yawn and suddenly ready to sleep.
Joel wraps around you after he blows out the candle on the nightstand. He smiles and kisses you softly until he falls asleep, a rare look of complete peace on his face. He winces when the sunlight streams through the slats of the shutters hours later and realizes it’s Christmas Day. He smiles softly and kisses your face, waiting until you whimper awake and he whispers, “Merry Christmas, baby.”
“Merry Christmas.” You groan softly, waking up and snuggling into his hold and sighing contentedly. You feel warm, safe and not alone, something that you had been wishing for a long time. It’s the best gift that you could have been given and you tilt your head up to kiss his chin. “Best Christmas ever.” You hum, kissing down along his throat gently, enjoying the sleep-warm scent of him. Memorizing it for when your bed is colder without him. “We should get up and get ready for an excited teenager.”
Joel groans softly, playfully, wrapping his arm around your waist. “Or we could just stay here all day.” He suggests just seconds before he kisses you softly. “She would kick the door down. She’s so excited.” He chuckles against your lips.
You sigh softly and smile. “We will have a good day. Pretend the world is normal outside.” You tell him. “Be cozy in this little bubble for awhile.”
Joel smiles, kissing your head, and he shifts to get out of the bed, grabbing his pajama pants, and he looks over at you, winking. “I’ll go make some coffee.” He offers as he grabs his shirt and slips out of your room into the kitchen.
You lay there for a moment before you get up and start dressing. Listening to the sounds of Joel opening the wood box in the stove and stirring the coals. The thunk of more wood being added. It’s completely domestic and you love it more than you should.
Ellie comes out once you’re dressed, eyes wide at the presents under the tree. “We got presents?” She exclaims and you nod, “yeah. Santa came.” You tease and she grins, rushing over to you and she wraps her arms around you. “You’re the fucking best.”
You grin as you hug her back. “You’re welcome. I hope that you like what I picked out for you.” The smell of coffee soon fills the air and you look towards the kitchen. “How about we have breakfast first and then presents?” You suggest.
Ellie pouts a little and Joel nods, reminded of Sarah when she used to be so eager to open gifts on Christmas morning. “Breakfast first.” He says sternly and Ellie nods, knowing it’s best to not argue with her father figure.
You decided to make breakfast quick since Ellie was so excited, so it’s done almost as soon as the coffee and you grin as you set it on the table. “We will have presents opened in no time.” You promise her with a wink.
Ellie tries not to pout as she agrees while Joel pours you out a coffee. You wink at him and he leans in to kiss you softly, “merry Christmas baby.” He murmurs and Ellie smirks, “Joel. Never knew you were a softie.”
Joel rolls his eyes and huffs but you just grin at how cheeky she is. Bolting down her breakfast as quickly as she can in her eagerness to get the day moving along so she can open her presents. Taking a sip of your coffee, you start your own breakfast when Joel sits down. It sounds like the storm has died down outside and the cabin is nice and warm. It’s a good day.
Youk grin as Ellie practically vibrates as she looks at the presents under the tree. “Go on sweetheart. Get the presents handed out.” Joel orders, knowing he would get Sarah to do that for him and Tommy when they’d celebrate Christmas.
You show Ellie which pill of presents is which, and pour you and Joel refresher cups of coffee to bring into the living room. The fire has been built back up and for a moment, you pretend, it’s just a normal Christmas morning. Sitting down on your old sofa and reaching for a throw to toss over your legs as Ellie bounces around creating two piles of gifts between her and Joel.
Joel frowns when he sees you don’t have anything and he remembers the simple gold ring he keeps on the gold chain around his neck. It belonged to his mother and no one has really seen it. He kept it hidden when he was in the QZ but grabbed it when he was leaving. He watches Ellie divide the presents and he looks at you, “this is too much, baby.” He says and Ellie is already ripping into a present.
“No it’s not.” You shake your head. “Things are hard to come by.” You murmur quietly. “I’m all alone. I don’t need my entire family’s wardrobe and things.” You remind him. “You two will be more comfortable traveling.”
Joel nods, opening a present to see a flannel shirt. “Thank you, sweetheart.” He murmurs and leans in to kiss your cheek. He watches Ellie open her presents with a grin and he frowns when you hand him another present. He quietly opens it, the velvet case and his eyes widen when he sees the watch. “This- I can’t accept this.”
“Yes you can.” You shake your head. “It’s solar. Hasn’t been used since my daddy died, but it’s a good watch.” You tell him. “I noticed your watch is broken, you wear it for the memory it carries. This will carry the memory of this Christmas, of me, with you.” You reach for his hand and close it over the watch. “I want you to carry it with you when you leave here.”
Joel caresses the watch, honored you’d want to give him something so special, so close to your family. He swallows harshly and leans in to kiss your cheek. “Thank you. I- wow. I - thank you.” He repeats, feeling a little overwhelmed. “Thank you baby.” He murmurs, “I love it.”
“Of course.” Ellie squeals and coos over her presents, clothes from your younger years and even some of your old jewelry for her to have. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!” She squeals and crushes you in a hug before she bounds off to try on the new things. You are happy she enjoyed everything and she’s having a good Christmas. “Now, I’ll start our dinner and make us some hot toddy’s to enjoy.”
Joel nods, “I’m just gonna use the bathroom.” He murmurs and stands up, heading into the bathroom to pull the chain from around his neck so he can take the ring off. He places the chain around his neck and holds the ring, heading out into the kitchen to find you. “Baby. I - I have a gift for you. It- it was my mom’s. I want you to have it.”
It takes you a minute to realize he’s trying to give you a ring. “Joel.” You whisper, frowning at the ring. You know that he will give you the same argument that you had given him. It’s probably the only thing that he has to offer you in his mind and to refuse it would be an insult. You look up into his eyes. “It’s beautiful.”
Joel smiles softly, a rare event, “like you. I want you to have it. You’ve shown us so much - well, no one has ever been quite as nice and I want you to have something special.” He says, reaching down to close your fist around the ring. “It’s something to remember me by.”
“I’ll never forget you, I promise.” You reach up with your other hand to cup his cheek. “Thank you, Joel. I’ll cherish it.” Leaning in, you kiss him softly, wishing again that he could stay and you could see what could grow between you. But it’s not to be. “Merry Christmas.”
Joel smiles, enjoying that you are happy on this holiday. “Merry Christmas.” He cups your cheek, his dark eyes meeting yours and he leans to softly kiss you. “I’ll never forget you.” He promises, “never.”
****
You shove another wrapped parcel of food into Ellie’s bag, zipping it up and patting it. They have stayed for two more days until the storm passed and every day was spent falling in love with both of them. Nights in Joel’s arms and days playing board games with Ellie and laughing at her sense of humor. Now it is time for them to leave and you are putting on a brave face. “You are all set.” You promise her, accepting the bone crushing hug she gives you and when she pulls away, you wrap her scarf around her neck and pull the beanie down over her ears. “Stay warm.”
“I’m gonna miss you.” Ellie huffs, squeezing you tight once more and pulls away to wipe her eyes since she’s told you she’s not going to cry.
Joel swallows harshly as he steps towards you after you hug Ellie. He pulls you close, burying his face in your hair, breathing you in. He’s going to miss you. So much. He has to leave though. He leans down to press his lips to yours, uncaring of Ellie watching as his tongue slides against your lips.
It’s easy to let him in again. Clinging to him and cherishing the last kiss you’ll ever have. “Stay safe.” You beg softly after a long minute where you are both panting for air when you pull back. “I hope you accomplish your mission. Find your brother, be happy.”
Joel doubts he could be happy. Not like how he’s felt while he’s been with you. These past few days…he hasn’t felt this at peace since he…well, pre-outbreak. He sighs and rests his forehead against yours and he kisses you softly one last time. “Be good for me, baby.” He murmurs against your lips, “stay alive.” He adds, knowing that being alone can be hard.
You give a small smile, knowing you can’t promise that, just like he can’t promise to be safe. The world is full of uncertainties and danger. Watching them from your porch is the hardest thing you’ve done in a long time. Waiting until they disappear from sight before you go back inside, the warm cabin is colder and lonelier now without the two people who had literally broken in and stolen your heart.
****
It’s been a year. Joel has been keeping track of the time and he asked Tommy to confirm it. After telling Ellie his plan, she’d been all in on joining him on the trek back to your cabin. Along the way, he had chopped down the best Christmas tree he could find and he knocks on your cabin with the snow just starting to fall on Christmas Eve.
Your gun in your hand, you warily unbar the door and slowly open it. You had shuttered the cabin earlier and the decorations are still in the box, in no mood this year for Christmas. The knock on the door seems almost surreal and you squint out through the crack before your eyes widen. “J-Joel? Ellie?”
He grins, seeing your beautiful face, and his memories did you no justice. God, you’re gorgeous. He nods, seeing the gun and he doesn’t care as he surges forward to cup your cheek and press his lips to yours.
You melt into the kiss immediately. Hastily setting the gun down on the table next to the door and throwing your arms around him. You never thought you would see him again and here he is, on your doorstep for a Christmas Eve. It’s the best present you’ve ever had.
He kisses you until he’s pulling back and pecking your lips. “Jesus, it’s freezing. Can we come in?” Ellie eventually interrupts the moment and Joel rolls his eyes. “I missed you.” He murmurs after they take off their jackets and boots and he’s wrapping his arms around you. “We found my brother. He’s - he’s in Jackson. It’s - it’s amazing. It’s a proper town. With people. Doctors. A goddamn bar. Come back with us to our house.” He requests softly.
“Your house? L-leave?” You are so confused but Ellie pipes in.
“Joel and I have a house. It’s got plenty of room and we want you to come. We can bring whatever you want and come back with the wagons to get everything.” She bites her lip. “Joel’s missed you. A lot. He’s been a grumpy fucker since we left.”
Your eye brow lifts when Joel nods. “I’ve missed you.” He repeats. “I want you to come live with me and Ellie. You can bring the chickens and everything you want from here.”
You stare at him in shock. It’s been a year and he hasn’t stopped thinking about you. “Baby. I- I want you to come back with us but you don’t - it’s your choice.” He promises, caressing your cheek and he lowers his hand, “you don’t have to decide now. It’s Christmas. Let’s celebrate and decorate the tree and then we can discuss it.” He promises, trying to compromise.
“I- yes..” you decide instantly. “We will have our Christmas here and then I will go back with you to Jackson.” You have been miserable without Joel or anyone else here and you never thought you would see him again. He’s back and he wants you with him. Christmas with Joel might have started here, with the white Christmas that had blown him into your life, but next year, you will celebrate with Joel and Ellie in Jackson. Next year and years to come.
#pedro pascal#joel miller#joel miller x reader#joel miller x you#joel miller x f!reader#joel miller smut#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller imagine#joel miller the last of us#joel miller tlou
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The Gentleman Returns
Pairing: Henry Cavill x Veterinarian!Reader
Summary: Henry comes back. Can he keep his composure around you?
Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. RPF. S MUT, Explicit description of graphic sex. P orn with just a little bit of plot. Read at your own risk. Flashbacks, Facetime s ex, long distance romance, Angst, pining, flirting, arguing, reader insecurity, wagering, brat behavior, dirty talk, size kink, or al s ex, raw p in v (wrap before you tap), b reeding kink, pain kink, m asturbation,o ral sex (f recieving) Not Beta’d. All errors my own.
A/N: This is part two of Doctor and Mr. Cavill. Let me know if you liked it!
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I Do NOT Consent to my work being reposted, translated or presented on any other blog or site other than by myself.
------
“I am in control. I am not a man possessed. I am not an animal.”
Henry repeated it to himself as he prepared for his morning cardio run down, which just happened to be 3.5 miles down Route 60 to your house. He decided that running would serve two purposes: One, to round out his morning exercise, and two, to calm him down.
It had been a long two weeks away.
You were constantly on Henry’s mind and it took all of his acting skills to attend to the matters that took him home to Great Britain. But he was finally back in your town, which happened to be the location of his latest film role, and he was focused on letting you know that he didn’t think of you as just a good time in America.
Henry knew that you thought he just wanted to have his way with you. The truth was that he felt for you deeply, and he didn’t quite know how to tell you. Things had gone much farther and faster than he ever imagined they would.
That’s why Henry was determined to be a gentleman today.
He’d stop by and say hello, collect Kal, ask you out on a date, and leave you intact like the lady you are. And then, maybe later, perhaps…. His heart rate escalated as he decided that he wouldn’t just grab you and take you up to your bed and fuck your brains out.
No.
Absolutely not.
Henry shook his head and smiled as he started the 5K run to your house.
He’d landed the night before, and you both agreed that he needed to rest before he was in charge of Kal again. He slept, and then bounded out at 5 am the next morning to train and also to tame the boner that he’d awakened with for the past fortnight.
Henry’s head was in the clouds and he barely registered any exertion on the road to your place; he just daydreamed about led him to this point.
-------
Two weeks earlier...
Good morning Doctor. How are you?
The text was sent at 7:43 am, as soon as he touched down at JFK. Henry found that he had no qualms about looking desperate for you, because he actually was.
Henry was surprised when you responded so promptly this early in the morning, but he was pleased.
Good morning Mr. Cavill. I’m a little sore. Fed the animals and am now taking a nice, hot bath.
Henry was concerned as he shouldered his backpack and walked down the jet bridge to the car area for his service. He was stopped for an autograph by someone who recognized him despite his baseball cap and mask, and as such, he didn't have time to really think when he responded.
Oh no! Did you lift too much feed? You really must lift heavy weights properly.
Henry’s brow was furrowed as he thought of you injured. You chuckled at Henry’s cluelessness.
You’re carrying the weight that did the damage.
It took a second for the lightbulb to go off in Henry’s head, and when it did, he groaned, remembering how tight you’d been around him, but then he frowned again. He dialed you as soon as he was in the SUV with the door closed.
You stared at your phone, not believing that he was facetiming you. After hesitating for just a moment, you answered.
“Hello?”
Henry peered at you through the screen then smiled, bringing the sun into your world.
“Hullo.”
You smiled back and bit your lip and Henry watched your mouth turn into a little pout. Damn, he was a goner.
“Are you okay?”
His voice was laced with a sexy tone that sent a tingle down your spine. You could swear that your title had now become a term of endearment instead of a joke. Your head was spinning with desire, need and a little uncertainty.
“I am perfectly fine.”
You certainly looked fit, Henry thought. And then he spied the bruise on your lip.
“What happened to your mouth?”
Henry looked angry, and your heart beat faster, thinking of how attractive he was when the dark clouds entered his eyes.
“… I split my lip when I… “
You looked down, eyelashes fanning your heated cheeks. What came next out of your mouth was a low and husky, but perfectly clear, whisper.
“I split my lip on you.”
Even in the bath, you grew moist at the memory of trying to accommodate Henry’s girth the night before. The slight pain of your bruised lip was forgotten the night before when you’d looked up at him through your lashes.
Henry’s barely perceptible moan brought you back into the moment and made you rub your thighs together under the water. He took you in, an alluring vision all slippery and wet and beautiful. If he could actually fly like Superman back to your side, he would.
“Dear God. Do you know what you do to me?”
Henry intoned it deeply as he rubbed his jaw and licked his lips.
“No, I don’t know, Mr. Cavill. Tell me?”
Henry let out a dark chuckle, double checking that the privacy partition was up in the car even though he had his airpods in.
“You’re an enchantress. I cant resist your allure, my dear Doctor, you’re captivating and I haven’t stopped thinking about you since I left.”
He watched you blush and had an idea.
“I have to get out of this car soon, and I’ll have to make it to my room to take care of this evidence of your affect on me…”
He panned down to his lap.
“Don’t…please.”
Henry's hand stilled on the ridge of his denimed dick. You’d commanded him with a whisper. He growled your name deep in his throat and you visibly shivered.
“I mean. It’s not for me to decide, but, if you were looking forward to us participating in activities like we did last night again…I’d rather you not…spill anything without me there to collect it. That is, if you could wait that long to cum again. To cum.. inside… me again..”
When you looked up at him again, you saw Henry’s eyes dilate as he bit his lip thinking of your wet heat. His cock jumped as debased images of what he wanted to do to you flooded his brain. He cleared his throat and his eyebrow rose as he bared his teeth in a feral smile to speak to you, his deep bass rumbling through you.
“You want me to save my seed to fill you up with, hmmm?”
You nodded, biting your lip, and your half closed eyes and whimpers only made him harder. He moved his hands to the leather seat of the suv, as he listened to the water moving around you as your free hand floated to your thigh.
“How about I come back with my balls heavy with cum to pump you full of and let drip out of your pores. Could you handle that?”
You squirmed, your face full of desire. Henry felt like a man starved for your touch although he just left you not 4 hours earlier.
“Mmmmmm... I’d like that. Very, very much.”
Henry watched you throw your head back and licked his lips,trying to find the taste of you from last night.
“D’you need to be fucked again, Doctor?”
He was speaking softly, but resolutely now, his dulcet tones making you feel some kind of way.
“Ohhh, Henry… I’m still a little sore and swollen.”
Henry bit his lip. He didn’t want you to be discomforted, but the idea that he’d ruined you made him mad with need. He was panting as if he’d played a full rugby match and he was ready to burst inside his pants.
“Are you? I should be there, to kiss that sweet little cunt. Soothe all her sore places with my tongue. D’you need that?”
Henry stopped himself from calling you Love, but the pet name reverberated in his brain as he watched your beautiful face full of want for him.
“Yes Henry. Oh my goddd!”
You brought your hand up to your neck and Henry wished it was his.
“Lemme see those nipples, play with them for me, yeah?”
You did as you were told and Henry watched as you filled your hands with yourself. He nearly cried at the sight. He instinctively rubbed his cock again, but he could control himself.
Couldn’t he?
With you he was not so sure, but there was no going back now, he had to see you through to your end.
“Feel that pussy for me, let her know how much I miss her already. Get in there, Love. Let me hear how much she aches for me.”
He’d let it slip. And he didn’t care. You didn't either. He could call you anything he wanted as long as he didn’t stop talking you through this need.
“Oh… Hen-ry…”
Your mouth opened wider and your head was thrown back as your hands ventured further down your body.
“Are you circling that plucky little bud for me?”
“Y-yessssss.”
The stutter and the look on your face made him even bolder. Henry clenched his jaw and his fists to keep control.
“I’m not far from the hotel. Give me one before I get there. Be a good girl for me…you were so good last night…took my cock so well, although I’m sorry I hurt you.”
“I’m not…hurt so good Henry…”
Henry kept his eyes on you as you licked your lips and keened. You had him sweating 1500 miles away.
“I wanted to fill you up and watch it drip out of you…”
“F-f-fuck…!”
You were panting like a wild animal, and Henry swallowed the whine that was lodged in his throat with a growl.
“Now stuff three of your pretty little fingers in that pretty little plump cunt. Cum for me. Give me something to dream about.”
You heard his fierce whisper and your eyes rolled as you tried to catch your breath.
“H-h-henryyyy!”
Henry experienced three things: your beautiful face as you screamed with pleasure, his cock raging hard in the confines of his jeans, and his heart beating a mile a minute in his ears. Henry cursed under his breath and reached for the cold bottle of water provided by the car service. He took a swig, then closed it and put it on his forehead.
Henry tried to collect himself as he listened to your breathing settle and watched you open your eyes slowly and smile shyly at him.
“Such a good girl for me. You alright?”
You hummed.
“Yes, Mr. Cavill, Sir.”
Henry grinned. Maybe he had tamed the brat a little.
“Now. No more orgasms until I return.”
Henry the Dom was in full force. How was this your life? All you could do was smile at the fortune of having one of the sexiest men in the world lavish this attention on you. You decided to enjoy it while it lasted.
“Right.”
Henry cocked his brow at you. He hoped he looked hard. Because inside….Well, inside, he was all mush for you.
“What was that?”
“I mean, No Sir.”
Henry wanted to say a lot, but he needed to get on with his day; his first interview was in less than two hours.
“We will talk later, Doctor, before I board the redeye for London..”
“Of course, Mr. Cavill. Sir.”
Henry threw you a look as you winked and ended the call. He sighed and stepped out of the car, head full of you as he headed to the penthouse.
You climbed out of the bath and fell back into bed naked, dreaming of Henry in your arms.
—--
Three days later….
The picture you’d sent made Henry wild.
It was an innocent picture of Kal, his snout resting on your bare thigh. It was exactly where he wanted to be.
“That rake. Trying to steal my girl,” he murmured to himself as he grinned at his phone.
“What’s that Hen?”
Henry looked up at the two men who were smirking at him over their brandies. Henry looked from Corey to Jamie’s face. He hadn’t heard a word they’d said.
“What?”
“You’ve not stared down at your lap and smiled like that since Year 7.”
Corey knew Henry better than almost anyone.
“Who is it?”
Jamie was curious what had his mate so distracted. Henry’s head was in the clouds in between press for their movie that was being released, he was working out every spare minute, and he wasn’t looking at any of the lovely ladies that threw themselves at him, not even a little.
Henry’s face lit up.
“I don’t even know where to begin. She’s… she’s amazing…”
Henry commenced to waxing poetic about you.
When he finally took a breath, Corey asked, “Yeah, yeah.. But how does she look, lad?”
Henry grinned and flipped through the pictures that you’d sent him on request. He found one that was relatively tame, with you sitting ensconced in his sweatshirt and nothing else. All you could see was your freshly washed face, that smile, and those legs.
Corey whistled.
“There’s a looker!”
He passed the phone to Jamie who looked at you and then up at Henry, who was beaming.
“That’s why you’ve been hitting the gym harder than usual. Working off that tension.”
Henry grinned.
“Yeah, she’s going to get it when I get back.”
Corey was quick to catch him.
“He’s saving himself? Oh shit. This is serious. When’s the wedding?”
Henry blanched.
“What?...No… we only just…”
“Henry. Did you notice the girl with the huge rack who’s walked by our table four times?”
Henry looked around the restaurant.
“Where? No…”
“She’s right there!”
Henry looked in the direction that Corey pointed.
“Her?” Henry laughed. “She’s… passable.”
Corey looked at Jamie and shook his head.
“You’re right, James. He’s gone. Raise a glass.”
Henry shook his head as Corey and James toasted and took a mockingly somber drink, then he clinked his own.
“Here’s to My Dear Doctor.”
“If she can tie you down, then cheers to Dr. Y/N!”
Henry shared a laugh with his friends.
“Now who wants to go on a run in the morning?”
—
Later that night:
Although it was after midnight for Henry, it was only after 7 where you were. But your insecurity permeated your conversation with him that night. You went on about his dating history and he railed against online gossip mongers. Finally, you said what you were really thinking.
“I am so not your type, Henry.”
Henry sighed.
“What are you on about?”
I’m a convenience while you’re in town. And you still think you want me because we’re practically sexting every moment of the day. I bet that if we didn’t talk until you had to come back, you’d forget all about me. You’ll find some beautiful English rose…”
“How much?”
“Hunh?” You were being thrown off of your rant.
“How much do you want to bet?”
“Henry….”
“We’ve got, what, 10 more days? 100 quid.”
You couldn’t believe him.
“You’re trying to make light of this. Don’t worry about it. I’m not upset Henry.”
“So you’re chicken?”
“I am NOT!” You huffed. “What is a ‘quid’? A pound? You’re betting me a hundred pounds?”
“I forgot how poor the dollar is. I’ll take it easy on you. 100 dollars US.”
“You have a deal Mr. Cavill.”
Henry grinned on the other end of the line. Your brat side would work to his advantage this time.
“Deal. No more phone calls. Just two texts a day. Good morning and good night.”
You were quiet a long time. Then you decided, if it was going to end, you should just go ahead and end it.
“Okay. Goodbye Henry.”
“See you soon, Doctor.”
—-----
Ten days after that conversation, you were feeding the sheep when Kal started barking and going crazy at the fence. You approached it and looked down the road to see Henry running toward you at an impressive pace.
Butterflies began to flutter in your belly. The last 10 days had sent you spiraling. Two texts a day were not enough. You missed Henry horribly, and you’d imagined him diddling half of Europe since you practically told him to. Well, you only had yourself to blame. You’d ruined a good thing, even if it were temporary.
You didn’t want to face him, but you had to give him his dog. You didn’t have much time prepare yourself because Henry’s time was good. He ran up and leaned on the fence as he greeted Kal. Then he looked up at you, hypnotizing you with those eyes and that smile of his.
Damn, you’d missed his face.
Henry was unequivocally a goner. The sight of you made him light headed, the erratic nature of his heart not a good combination with the increase from running.
“Hello, Doctor. How are you?”
Henry smiling at you made you warm. It felt like you’d never been asked that question before and you wanted to tell him your life story, but you just said, “Fine. And you Mr. Cavill?”
Henry grinned at the formalities. You were still his incorrigible brat that he’d left in bed two weeks ago.
His?
Yes, His, he decided as he watched you unlatch the gate enabling Kal’s attack. He laughed and rolled around in the grass with his pup and you watched fondly. You could get used to these two brutes. You tried to walk around them when Kal went after you too, tripping you up and causing you to fall onto Henry, straddling him as Kal barked excitedly beside you two.
You looked into Henry’s eyes, feeling him beneath you. It wasn’t sexual, not quite, just familiar. Henry was being calm and his hands just rested on your sides as he grinned up at you. You wanted to hug him. But instead, you made to get up.
“S-sorry.”
“No problem at all, Doctor.”
You cleared your throat and stood up, placing your hands on your hips, grimacing at Henry, who was up now himself. His hair was haloed by the early morning sunlight, and he winked at you as he brushed himself off. Damn him and his perfect features.
“D’you want some water?”
Henry regarded you, solemn and intense, when a drop of sweet traveled from his hairline into his right eye. You felt like you were drooling as you watched his biceps flex as he wiped it away.
“You’ve read my mind.”
The timbre of his voice reminded you of that night on facetime, and your pulse quickened at the thought that you had indeed read his mind. You wanted him, and here he was acting like you were just acquaintances. He really had fooled around in Europe. You could have kicked yourself.
You turned and Henry followed you into your house, taking off his shoes and washing his hands as you did. You watched Henry gulp down the water and you kept your distance. Kal seemed content to give you both your space in the kitchen as he laid in the sunlight from the window in the dining room.
“Doctor, we need to talk.”
Your heart dropped. You knew it.
“There’s nothing to talk about. We talked already. You found someone else. Or had some random hookups. Just as I told you you would.”
Henry’s blood was starting to boil. He took a deep breath, but his voice still came out menacing.
“You are the most maddening woman.You don’t get to tell me what I want, or what I did or what I should do. Like you said, we don’t know each other that well. But I thought that we had an understanding, L/N…”
Now you were angry.
“What understanding? How can we have an understanding if we’ve never really talked. We just fucked. You were horny. I was there. We. Just. Fucked. That’s it. It was good. Now it is over.”
“Oh? It’s over is it? I’ve half a mind to turn you over my knee.”
You chucked your chin up at him like you were daring him.
Henry saw the glint in your eye and he knew what had to happen. Gentlemanly thoughts were out the window. He put the glass down and advanced on you.
You moved back and opened your mouth to reply, but what came out was a squeak. You closed it quickly
“That’s right, listen good, little mouse.”
He moved again and you stayed put.
“Yes. We fucked. We fucked and it was amazing. But we fucked because I’m insanely attracted to you in a myriad ways, not just because I wanted to fuck. You were right. I know how to smash and dash, Doctor, and this is not that.”
Henry paused to look into your eyes, to make sure you understood him.
“I’m in awe of you. You’re a skilled professional, you’re kind, and gentle, and a nerd who loves to have a good time. You soothe me. You make me think and you make me go mad every time I think about how your body seems made for mine.”
You were inches apart, but he didn’t touch you.
“I’m entirely and utterly smitten with you. And I’m afraid of the power you have over me Doctor. I’m supposed to behave as a gentleman, but you make it impossible.”
Then, he stepped back leaned up against your counter, running his hand through his curls. It was the counter where you first kissed. You smiled at him.
Henry eyed you warily and crossed his arms, showcasing his muscles and veins. You were dangerous. but he was going to be strong.
“What?”
“You mean that you didn’t get with anyone else when you were away?”
Henry sighed and rolled his eyes.
“No. Didn’t want to.”
He stood up straighter as you advanced on him now.
“This perfect specimen of a body?”
You pointed, just shy of touching him. Henry reached back and grabbed the counter to keep from grabbing you.
You reached out and trailed your hand down his muscle shirt, stopping shy of the waistband of his shorts.
“And you’re willing to wait even longer?”
Henry cleared his throat.
“Yes.”
Henry’s voice broke and he caught your eye. At that moment, you knew your power.
“It’s just for you, Doctor. When you’re ready.”
You scoffed at him. And leaned up on tiptoe to whisper in his ear.
“But this body is for the world, Mr. Cavill. After all, millions drool over it every day.”
Your lips brushed the shell of his ear, and Henry closed his eyes and suppressed a shiver. He gave in and reached for you, grabbing you and pulling your flush to him. He looked down, eyes sparkling.
“Maybe so, but how we feel pressed together is just between me and you.”
You looked into the softness of his eyes and you could tell he was sincere.
“But how can you know?”
“I just know that I know. I want to protect you, I want to comfort you… I want to...”
“Oh, Henry…”
You threw your arms around him and kissed him. He lay claim to your mouth again and after, he rested his forehead on yours, panting.
“I’m… I want to be a gentleman…Want to take you out. Wine…dine…”
You palmed him over his shorts and watched his eyes dilate.
“What if I take you out?”
Henry watched you lick your palm and reach into his sweats as he forgot to breathe.
“I- I …” Henry looked down at what you were doing. “Careful…’
You looked up at him, determined now.
“I thought you were going to cum inside me and leak out of my pores.”
“Mmmmmmmmmother of god!”
Henry clenched his jaw as he growled at you.
“I do want to fuck you very badly, Doctor. But you deserve… to be treated….”
Henry’s voice faded away as you continued to stroke his rock hard length.
“It’s been 14 days. I deserve to be fucked. Hard. Need you ... please… Sir.”
You took his right hand and put it on your breast. He rolled your nipple through your shirt and then mirrored the gesture with his left. Henry had a brief thought that you were trying top him before his brain short circuited.
Before you knew it, you’d been spun around and your face was on the cool marble of your countertop. Henry pulled your leggings down to your ankles. You pulled one leg out and Henry hoisted it up on the counter. You leaned back and desperately grabbed at his curls.
“Please Henry, Give!”
He leaned over and whispered in your ear as his fingertips spread you wide.
“Trust me Doctor, you will take. But first…”
Henry sank to his knees and whispered to your cunt.
“Been so long. Need to taste…mmmmmmm.”
You were pulled back onto Henry’s face as he buried his mouth into your wet crevasse. He hummed and smacked as if he were eating the best meal of his life. Henry certainly thought so. He destroyed your soul as he alternated fucking you with his tongue and licking you rudely throughout your entire crease.
After you came on his face, he took off your pants completely, and lifted you easily in his arms, walking a few feet to your couch.
Henry set you down face first before him, leaning down to whisper in your ear.
“You’re a venus, my dear Doctor.”
Henry’s thick fingers moved from your knee digging into the couch cushions up your thigh to the wetness dripping there. Four fingers found your slick and swiped, while his thumb ghosted your puckered hole.
“Mhmmmmm. Henry…”
“So responsive f’me. Want to be everywhere all at once.”
Henry enjoyed the feeling of his cock slipping in your wetness, the way you moved to try and get him inside you. He moaned knowing how much you wanted him too. His hands moved up from your hips to find your nipples under the top you were wearing and your moves became more wanton. Henry became irritated at the confines of your shirt. He reached for the hem.
“Take this off…There we go.”
He pulled you to him, your cool back against his warm torso, and he trailed his hands up and down your body.
“‘ve wanted my hands on you ever since I left…”
“Me too, Mr. Cavill.”
You’d turned your head to whisper, and Henry’s mouth captured yours in a kiss. You wiggled your ass against the pounding organ that was wedged between your cheeks, and he reached down to grab your hip to still you.
“Want my cock?”
You shook your head.
“No. Need it.”
And with that, you bent down again and looked over your shoulder at him, arching your back.
Henry gazed down at your presented ass and turned his head to the side, admiring, as that eyebrow raised and made you that much wetter.
“Yesss…” His blue eyes met yours. “I believe that you do.”
You whimpered and dropped your head, watching from below as Henry grabbed his cock at the base, his fingers splayed out against his big balls as he lined up and breached you with his rude, wide, mushroom tip.
“Let me…”
The stretch burned deliciously, and both of you grunted as Henry eased into you, his length and girth making you question reality again.
“…Slide into this warm…”
“Oh, Henry! Feels so-”
He cut you off.
“Shit! Love how you take it.”
“Oh god!”
You were almost sobbing at how good it felt.
“I feel you inside me.”
“D’you feel it getting bigger?”
You could hear the grin in his voice. You nodded and sobbed, the feeling indescribable.
“Stretching you out. So, so good.”
“Uh unhhh uhmmmmm. Missed you Hen...ry!”
“Me, too, Love. Me....too!”
Henry was moaning behind you as he smoothly thrust in and out of you, making it so good that your buried your head into the pillow and drooled into it between your screams of: “Oh my goddd!”
“Mmmm just like that, take it all for me.”
He delivered a sound slap to your behind and you keened.
“Love it when you take it all.”
He smacked you again.
“D’you like my cock?” he demanded.
“Mmmmyeah hmmm, I love itttt!”
Henry moved his hand around to your clit and started manipulating it.Then, he moved your hand to your sensitive nub as you whimpered.
“Now take over for me. Circle that clit. Justttt like that.”
You did as you were told, your legs shaking.
“Ohhh oh my god, Henry!”
“Just like that. Good girl.”
Henry smacked your ass yet again.
“Now keep it up.”
The stimulation was getting to be too much. This man knew how to fuck all of you, not just your body, but your mind.
“Henry…”
Your plaintive wail was almost too much for Henry. Yet he persisted.
“M’ gonna fuck you….”
Your wetness was making what was now happening sound obscene, and served to get you closer to the orgasm he hadn’t given you permission to have yet.
“Oh god!”
You wanted to pull your hand away, but you obeyed his command.
“There…”
Henry swiveled his hips so that your insides lit up like a christmas tree as he fucked you.
“Please…”
You couldn’t breathe, and you were beginning to feel a certain pressure in your pelvis. You whimpered again as Henry made you feel every nerve ending in your body.
“…Just…. there…”
Henry’s thrusts were controlled and steady, despite feeling your cunt clenching in waves around him as you tried in vain to stave off your end.
“Oh yeah I like that.”
He’d leaned down, hot breath in your ear.
“Oh I feel it Henry.”
“God yeah. Me too. You like that, Doctor?”
“Oh Godddddd!”
Henry pulled you upright and you struggled to keep circling your clit as your hips sped up of their own volition. You used two hands as Henry squeezed your hips, holding on as you bounced up and down on his dick. His eyes were glued to your bouncing tits.
“Oh shit! Just there…bounce like that, yeah.”
Henry’s mouth descended and latched on, sucking your jugular as you fucked yourself on him. His hands kneaded your bouncing breasts. He was in heaven.
“Use me, Baby. Make yourself feel good.”
“You’re so fucking big….”
Henry grinned into your neck.
“Feel it Doctor…”
Henry was blowing in your ear as he suckled on your lobe now. He bent you back over, placing his hand between your shoulder blades so you would move your hands and deliver the arch. You were relieved yet still desperate. Henry looked down and groaned.
“Look at that cream.”
The timbre of Henry’s voice and the slapping of skin on skin was more than you could bear.
“Henry… Please! Can I cum?”
The slapping intensified as Henry sped up and got sloppy, losing control finally.
“Cum… now Doctor…”
Henry stroked into you fiercely, prolonging your orgasm until your spasming channel forced him out of you.
You both exclaimed in disappointment, and Henry in laughed as he kissed your neck and plunged back inside you, fucking you even harder now.
“Thank you for that. I was about to spill everything inside you and this would be over. Gave me a bit of a breather. Now give me that arch again.”
He bent you over again.
“Just there. Oh yeah… Looka there…that arch…yesss. Love that arch.”
He crossed his arms to hold your hips still so that he could go even harder.
“Am I fucking you properly?”
You were drooling and your eyes were rolling; you barely registered his question. Henry slapped your ass.
“Oh. Yesssss! Fuck yesss. Cock is so hard…so big.”
“Oh, shit…sssssss!”
Henry hissed as he felt his cum crawl up from his balls.
“I….ugh… Henry!!!... I’m cuming…”
“M…Me toooo!”
—-
You were the little spoon to Henry’s big as he held you on your couch, the plaid throw covering your nakedness. You stroked Henry’s arm as he held you close.
“Did you spend the entire two weeks thinking that up?”
Henry leaned over to look at you, smiled, and kissed your nose. Then he relaxed again.
“That was entirely off the cuff. You’re an inspiration. A muse.”
“A sexual muse, hunh.”
Henry pulled you closer to him.
“So much more than sexually. You inspire me in so many areas.”
You looked back at him quizzically. He just grinned.
“Come, lets get cleaned up and get dressed. And give me ride over to my place, would you? We have a brunch reservation in… two hours at The Orangery. I’m taking you out on the town.”
“And you can pay, because you owe me a hundred dollars.”
You realized that it was put up or shut up time as Henry grinned at you.
——
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