#tess servopoulos x you | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

slow-motionlovepotion · 11 months

Text

𝒍𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕 | 𝒋𝒐𝒆𝒍 𝒙 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓 𝒙 𝒕𝒆𝒔𝒔

𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈: Joel Miller x f!Reader x Tess Servopoulos

𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕: 4.3K

𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔: 18+ - smut, boston-era, age gap (reader fucks two people old enough to be her parents), girl on girl action, a touch of voyerism (joel likes to watch), threesome, bisexual reader, fingering, oral (f!receiving), unprotected sex (wrap it kids), squirting, creampie, multiple orgasms, dirty talk, manhandling, breeding kink, slight cum play, lil' bit of fluff at the end.

𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚: what happens when Joel comes home early from a run to find Tess fucking you on his bed.

𝒂/𝒏: throws this like a grenade and runs away fast as fucking possible. i can't actually believe i wrote this, it's disgusting i'm sorry. happy pride to my fellow bisexuals. the mommy and daddy issues are strong with this one ~ no beta, we die like men

You’re not sure how this thing with Tess has started. You’re not even sure what this thing is but it’s become a routine, on nights Joel is away, sharing his bed with Tess, her soft lips pressed to your neck as your rut against her fingers.

You’ve noticed her softening in the months you’ve been doing this. There’s a brightness in her eyes that wasn’t there before and her smile is wider, and a little more genuine. To outsiders she’s still the same hardened, take-no-shit Tess but with you, you get to see her, really see her, glimpses of who she might’ve been before.

Slipping into her building under the cover of darkness, Tess is always up waiting for you and she takes no time pulling you to join her in bed, stripping you out of your clothes and making your breath catch in your throat as you whine her name.

It’s not cheating, not really, since Tess and Joel haven’t really discussed their relationship, that’s what she tells you, that Joel isn't the jealous type anyway. You don’t believe her, you’d seen Joel threaten men for far less.

He isn’t meant to be back for another day or so, that explains why Tess has your spread on the bed she and Joel share. It smells like him, you notice it every time you’re here and sometimes it’s overwhelming, the woodsy spiced scent of Joel. You’ve wondered, once or twice, if Joel can smell you when he returns, sometimes you’d spend a few nights, once a whole two weeks, sleeping in his bed, your sweat soaking the sheets while Tess buries her mouth between your legs.

With your back pressed to her chest and her legs wrapped around yours keeping them spread, Tess rubs soft circles over your clit. Your head rolls back, supported by her shoulder as you whine and squirm, desperate for a bit more friction. Joel hasn’t been on any runs for a while so it’s been weeks since you’ve felt someone else's hands on your body.

“More, please Tess more” you pant, turning your head to mumble into her neck, already half gone. Tess slides her hand further, slipping her fingers through the wetness gathering at your entrance.

“All for me?” Tess teases, she loves you like this. All pliant and pretty for her. You nod and she feels it against her throat. “So pretty sweetheart. All for me” It’s possessive, all for her, she knows you don’t do this with anyone else, not anymore.

Tess pushes two fingers into you, long fingers that reach that spot inside better than your own can

“Oh, yes” you hiss, your orgasm approaching rapidly. She swipes her thumb over your clit as she crooks her fingers sinfully, rubbing that soft spongy spot that makes you see stars, coaxing your orgasm closer and closer.

You hear a faint jangle of keys from the hallway outside, it can’t be Joel, probably just a neighbour, you think, Tess wouldn’t risk having you here if there was even a possibility Joel would be returning, would she?

The front door is thrown open and you hear heavy footsteps crossing the small apartment before the impossibly large body of Joel fills the bedroom entrance, dropping his bag heavily when he’s greeted by the sight of you and Tess on his bed.

Your impending orgasm is lost with the interruption and you whine pathetically at the loss and at the embarrassment of being caught like this. You try to bring your legs together, hide your glistening cunt from Joel’s view but Tess keeps you pinned in place, doesn’t even falter, she slows but does’t completely stop the gentle prod of your g-spot.

“Shit” you mutter under your breath, burying your face further into Tess’ neck, unable to even look at Joel, heat creeping up your cheeks, making you feel hot all over.

You feel Tess’ hand grip into the back of your hair, turning your face to look at Joel. You try to resist but you know when she means business, your eyes meet Joel’s face and you see something unspoken pass between the two of them as his features darken before he makes eye contact with you.

“Don’t stop on my account, finish her off” Joel’s gravely voice sounds tight, like you’re in trouble.

You bring your hand down between your legs, trying to push Tess’ fingers from your cunt, shaking your head as much as her grip on your hair allows

“C’mon sweetheart, be a good girl. Show Joel how pretty you look when you come” Tess’ fingers speed up their motions, withdrawing from your heat before slipping back in, the pads of her fingers hitting that spot every time.

You can feel Joel’s eyes on you, watching with interest as he props himself up against the divider, thick arms crossing over his broad chest. The sight makes you clench around Tess and she laughs softly in your ear “You like it when he watches?” nudging at your jaw with her nose, prompting you to answer

“Yes” it’s breathy and quiet, barely audible over the sound of the wet slick of your cunt around Tess’ fingers

You’re unable to tear your eyes from Joel because, fuck, he looks good. You’ve always thought he was attractive, in a rugged old-enough-to-be-your-dad kinda way. Your eyes trail from his arms, down the softness of his belly until your eyes land between his legs, even in the dim light the obvious stretch of his jeans over a more than generous hardness is evident. You feel Tess release her grip on your hair, hand finding yours to push it back down your body, your fingers joining hers between your legs. You take the silent instruction, tracing the tips of your fingers over your throbbing clit, eyes closing at the feeling.

“Mm-mm, eyes here” You hear from Joel, opening your eyes to find him tracing the thick line of his cock with his thumb, gripping the head through the denim of his jeans, a hard breath leaving him.

Your eyes track the movement of his hand and you imagine what he might look like with that hand wrapped around his cock, stroking in time with Tess’ fingers. Fuck, the image sends a throb through your walls and you hear Tess’ breath hitch behind you

“Close” you whisper, hooking your free hand back around Tess’ neck, bringing her closer.

“I know sweetheart” Tess speeds up her thrusts, fucking into you as you roll your hips down onto her hand, your own fingers rubbing tight circles on your clit. Your back is sweaty against her chest, your hair sticking to the back of your neck.

“C’mon sweetheart, you’re right there I can feel it” and you are, your release sparking, flickering with each invasion of Tess’ digits, you need something more, something to ignite the burn settled low in your abdomen.

“Come for us” Joel commands you at the same time you feel Tess sink her teeth into the flesh of your shoulder and you’re not sure which of them lights the match but you’re coming. Heat spreads down your thighs, your back arching in a way that’s pornographic and the groan you let out rattles deep in your chest. You flood around Tess’ fingers as she continues pushing you through your orgasm and when she wrenches her fingers from your cunt something inside you bursts, a scream torn from you as you soak Joel’s bedsheets.

Fuck, you’ve never done that before, you roll your face into the crook of your arm, hiding yourself away from Joel’s intense stare, shame tightening a knot in your stomach. You’re barely able to support your own head with the energy your orgasm ripped from you. Your whole body trembles as Tess soothes you, trailing her damp fingers up and down the skin of your thigh.

“Pretty, isn’t she?” Tess murmurs from behind you as calloused fingers cup your jaw, turning your head to meet Joel’s gaze and he’s so close, one knee on the bed, right in the middle of the wet spot you’d made and he obviously doesn’t care about your cum soaking through the fabric of his jeans.

“So pretty, could watch that all day” Joel all but growls, it’s low and deep and there’s a tinge of desperation that sounds good on him.

He roams his eyes down your body, releasing your jaw and bringing his hands to slide two thick fingers through your soaked folds, meeting your eyes again as he slips them gently into your cunt “You always cum like that or was that all for me?”

There it is again. All for me. Possessive. You’re a possession, you belong to Tess, and apparently by extension, Joel.

“For you” you moan. Not all for him, for Tess as well, it was her fingers after all. Although with the way he’s stretching you around his fingers and pumping slowly you might come again, this time all for him. You reach for Tess, clutching at her as she continues the ghosting trail up and down your thighs. Joel notices how your fingers entwine with hers and he turns his attention to her.

You hear the wet sounds of a kiss and a soft breath leave Tess’ chest, you can’t see, squeezed between them as Joel fingers continue their pleasure. When they separate you sense Joel whispering something in Tess’ ear but you don’t catch it. Then Tess brings her lips down, brushing your sweaty hair out the way and what she says makes you melt

“What do you say sweetheart, you want Joel to fuck you?” You whine and buck your hips, almost frantic at the prospect

“Yes, yes please” you feel Tess nod against your ear and see something glint in Joel’s eyes.

You think about reaching for him, slipping your fingers under the buckle of his belt and dragging him to you but you quickly accept you’re not in charge here. Maybe next time. Or not, there’s not going to be a next time, Jesus you’re not entirely convinced Joel isn’t going to kill you after this. Tess may be in charge but you’ve seen Joel go off the rails more than once, he’s a dangerous man.

Joel reaches for his buckle, making quick work of the leather and denim, and boxers you notice, when he comes back to the bed wearing nothing but his faded blue shirt. You do reach for him then, working the buttons much faster than you expected with your shaky hands, eventually his shirt hangs open, greying hair hiding the scars littering his body.

Tess keeps your legs spread, lifting them higher to allow Joel to settle between them. You’re surrounded, Tess behind you, Joel in front of you and you don’t know how you feel but you do know that being shared by them feels right.

“You ready for him sweetheart?” Tess whispers against your ear. When you nod your head Tess tsks “Ask him”

“Joel please, want you” Joel brushes the thick head of his cock over your entrance, letting it rest heavily against your clit

“Again” Tess orders

“Please, fuck please fuck me, want your cock Joel. Need it, wanna feel you-” Joel silences your begging with a sharp thrust, sheathing his length into your wet heat. The sound you make is filthy, and fuck, he’s big.

“Breath sweetheart, it’s a lot, I know, but you can take it” Tess presses soft kisses down your neck and along your shoulder. You blindly reach behind you, desperate for another anchor, something familiar and grounding and when you feel Tess' hair running through your fingers you pull gently.

“So good, taking me so well” Joel moans above you “so fucking tight for me”

For me. You tug lightly on Tess’ hair, stretching your neck up to meet her lips in a soft kiss.

Joel starts moving when your lips meet, jostling you slightly, pushing you further into her and she takes the opportunity to deepen the kiss, licking into your mouth when you gasp as Joel forces himself back into you.

“Feel good sweetheart?” Tess questions between quick kisses and you nod, whining a barely coherent answer. Joel sets a ruthless pace, thrusting himself in and out harshly, pressing your sweaty body between Tess and his own.

You want more, need more, from them both. You make the split second decision to move, pushing him off you. Rolling yourself over and settling yourself between Tess’s thighs you push your knees up underneath you, raising yourself up for Joel.

You waste no time, peppering soft kisses on the inside of her thighs. You can feel Joel’s knees settling around yours, his hand resting on your hip but he moves no further, watching the back of your head work between his lover's legs. You reach her core, immediately licking into her, nosing at her clit. His eyes flick to Tess when she gasps, he can hear a soft hum come from you and feels you nudge your hips back into his.

Gripping his cock, he pushes the head between your lips, and god, you’re so wet, there’s little resistance as he sinks in.

Joel pulls your knees out from underneath you until you’re flat, straddling your thighs and thrusting himself back in. You whine and he stutters, dropping his forehead to your shoulder, “Fuck darlin’, so fuckin’ tight” you squeeze tighter around him that it’s almost painful, “Christ” Joel moves, almost by instinct, ploughing himself into you roughly, he’s little restraint, watching Tess writhe beneath you, your tongue flicking repeatedly at her clit.

Joel’s pace rocks through your entire body and you start to lose focus, panting around Tess’ clit as you try to control your moans. You can’t, can’t focus on anything other than the burn of Joel’s cock splitting you open. You pull back from Tess, bumping your forehead against Joel’s, getting his attention. When he raises his head you kiss him, you know he can taste Tess on your lips and you realise this is the first time you’re kissing the man currently buried in your cunt.

Joel chases your lips when you pull away but you guide him gently where you really want him, arousal flooding through you when Joel lowers his mouth to Tess’ cunt, flicking his tongue in lazy, sloppy circles. Resting your head against her thighs you can feel her twitch with every pass of his tongue. You force yourself to keep your eyes open, to watch, as Joel continues to drive into you, never even faltering in his thrusts.

A soft plea of your name pulls you from a bubble of bliss, when it’s repeated you realise it’s Tess, you stroke your hand down her thigh, letting her know you hear her

“Fingers, please sweetheart, your fingers” Joel hears her too, shifting his attention to her clit, allowing you to slip your fingers into the wet heat of her cunt. The muscles in her thigh tense against your cheek and you know her tells, you know that means she’s close.

You can feel your own orgasm building steadily, each thrust of Joel pushing you closer to the waves that threaten to crash over you. You suppress it as much as you can, heavy eyes watching as Joel feasts. You glance up at Tess, expecting to see her head thrown back, what you don’t expect is to find her watching. Watching the way Joel is buried between both her thighs and yours, the way he works at her clit, eyes closed, the lines permanently etched on his face softened as he enjoys it.

“Fuck” Tess mutters as both you and Joel work her to release, her hands fist into his hair and her hips rock onto your fingers “like that, yeah like that, Joel fuc-” and Tess whines, a gasp of your name leaving her lips as well. Joel doesn’t let up, continuing his assault on her clit and when you remove your fingers he laps at the wetness leaking from her. Her legs fall slack against the bed, the soft curve of her stomach rising and falling with her panting breaths.

“Your turn darlin’, wanna feel you come round my cock” Joel grumbles into your ear and before you can respond his hands are under your arms, hauling you up Tess’ body, propping you up on your knees between her spread legs as he slides back into your heat. Tess’ lips find yours, catching your gasp when she slips her fingers between your legs. She avoids your clit, instead just resting her fingers at your entrance, feeling how you stretch around him.

It’s overwhelming, two sets of hands on your body, the feel of Joel’s hips meeting yours, and the new angle of his cock hitting just right. You can feel something building, it’s a different kind of pressure, each time Joel withdraws you feel like you could burst and every time he thrusts back in the pressure tightens.

The constant cycle of almost release is punishing, your whines pitching higher and higher with every thrust. Your legs are shaking and you’ve given up kissing Tess, choosing instead to rest your sweaty forehead against hers.

Joel doubles his efforts at your sounds, a firm hand pushing your lower back into an arch, tilting your hips to allow you to take him even deeper.

“Fuck Joel, fuck, I-” you what? You don’t even know, it’s too much but you want more and you don’t know how to tell him that. The sound coming from your coupling is dirty, slapping skin and wet, so wet.

“Wa’s goin on huh?” Joel pants from behind you “Gonna come darlin’?”

“I- I don’t know” you pant, panic rising in your chest at the unfamiliar feeling.

Joel hums behind you and you can hear his smirk. He fucks into you three more times before withdrawing completely and you go into shock, legs trembling violently, hips raising and you’re gushing, your wet release drenching the mattress between your knees

“Shit darlin’” Joel groans as you squirt, eyes locked on your pulsing cunt “Makin such a mess” He slips back into you, thrusting hard and fast and you’re on a high, each thrust pushing you even higher and higher. This time Joel doesn’t pull out, instead the pressure of your release forcing him out against his will.

You hear him growl behind you, fingers gripping your hips, holding your boneless body as he fucks back into you. You can feel Tess whispering praise in your ear but you can’t actually hear what she’s saying over the ringing in your ears.

Her hands gently hold you up, her breath hot against your neck as you clutch at her arms, nails digging into her flesh so hard that if you were more conscious you’d be concerned about drawing blood.

“One more darlin’, one more f’me c’mon” Joel’s slurring above you, thrusts faltering. You shake your head, feeling thoroughly fucked out despite the heat of a more familiar orgasm building. You don’t have the energy to fight it and you relax into it, cunt pulling him deeper, tightening around him. Tess nudges your jaw and you lift your head to meet her eyes.

“You can do it sweetheart” she pushes your damp hair out of your face, bringing your mouth to meet hers and it’s sweet, a stark contrast to the way Joel’s pounding into you from behind.

Joel’s grip on your hip tightens in warning and he starts babbling

“Look at ya, takin it so fuckin well. Such a pretty little cunt. So fuckin tight, don’t understand how you can still be so fuckin tight. Gonna be good for me, need you to come one more time, one more time darlin and I’ll fill you up” You don’t know who his babbling is for but you tighten further at his words, your orgasm sparking.

“Yes yes, fuck yes Joel please” you know you’ve never wanted anything more

“Yeah, y’gonna take it? Lemme fill you up n’ fuck a baby into you?” That’s it, that’s what breaks you, pleasure ripping through your body so hard it’s painful and you sob, tears flowing and chest heaving, mumbling incoherent nonsense as Joel continues to fuck into you.

“Good girl tha’s it. Gonna fill you up, leave you leaking” you can hear how tight his voice is, deep and gravelly and desperate. With a final thrust he buries himself as deep as possible, nudging at your cervix and it’s just the right side painful. “Fuck” You feel him swell as he comes, your abused cunt stretched around him, his fingers digging into your hips already leaving bruises.

Keeping his grip firm on your hips he kneels back, pulling you with him until you're pressed against him. He slips a hand between your thighs, brushing your oversensitive clit and you whine in protest. “No more, please”

“Okay, no more” He chuckles darkly “You did good, didn’t she do good?” he directs his question at Tess and she nods with a smirk

“She did” Warmth blooms in your chest at her praise and the tired smile she has on her face.

You can feel Joel soften inside you and you already miss the feeling, that is until you feel him slip out, followed by the wet heat of his release. You gasp at the feeling, you’ve never had anyone finish inside you before and it’s not entirely unpleasant. You kneel up, cum still leaking from you, adding to the mess on the bed sheets between your legs.

Tess is watching, eyes glazed as she sits up to run her finger through the sticky mess of your cunt before bringing it to her mouth, sucking with an obscene moan and a roll of her eyes. She pulls your lips to hers, licking into your mouth, you can taste yourself and Tess and something unfamiliar that must be Joel. Joel’s cock twitches against your backside and you’re both surprised and concerned, you can’t go again, your body is absolutely done, and thankfully Tess pulls away, a final chaste kiss before she addresses Joel

“Bill have what you went for?” she asks, her eyes dropping to damp curls between your legs

“Yeah” Joel breathes.

You don’t know what they’re talking about but you’re tired and your head feels fuzzy, ears still ringing and you need to lie down. Your knee brushes the wet spot as you move and you freeze “Shouldn’t we change th-”

“‘ll do it t’morrow” Tess mumbles, eyes flicking to the empty bed next to her expectedly and you join her without question. Joel moves then, coming to lay on your other side as Tess pulls you into her, wrapping her arm around your waist, always the big spoon.

Joel pulls the duvet that had fallen to the floor during your activities, throwing it over you all, immediately closing his eyes. You’re so tired, eyes feeling heavy but you don’t want to sleep yet. You want to soak this up, still unconvinced it’s not just a one time thing.

“What are you doing?” Joel mumbles, eyes closed but definitely still awake

“Nothin’” you lie, you’re watching him, basking in this sleepy-guard-down Joel, for only the second time since you’ve known him he doesn’t look like he’s on the verge of killing someone.

“Then go to sleep” he groans but turns his head towards you, his hand finding your knee, bringing it up to hook over his thigh, a silent acknowledgment of affection.

This, this playfulness with Joel, has seemingly come out of nowhere and the realisation has your jaw dropping.

“You knew” you state and Joel fucking smiles. You feel Tess’ smirk through the kisses to you shoulder and all of a sudden you feel incredibly thick

“You told him?” you ask

“He’s known the whole time” she confirms

“You spent two weeks living in my apartment, wearing my clothes and fucking on my bed, the whole place smelt like you when I got back” you bury your face into the pillow at his observation, you’d hoped he wouldn’t notice one of his T-shirts was missing but you feel the heat rising for a different reason when you wonder if he fucked Tess on bedsheets that smelt like you.

“You planned this?” you ask over your shoulder and Tess just hums with a smile “You could’ve just asked me”

“Where’s the fun in that?” she laughs, and you don’t think you know a more lovely sound than Tess laughing. Joel’s hand squeezes your knee under the covers and you know he thinks the same too.

Tess mumbles something like ‘going the fuck sleep’ into your hair and it’s not even a minute before her breathing slows and her arm around your middle becomes a dead weight.

As if the night wasn’t full of enough surprises, Joel’s fingers brush your jaw and when you open your eyes he’s watching you.

“This was a big deal for her. She didn’t wanna scare you off.”

You hum quietly, “Didn’t scare me off, could never” your speech is slurred, exhaustion quickly taking over

“I said no, at first, you make her happy and I didn’t wanna screw this up” that’s unexpected, honesty and vulnerability from Joel.

“Wait, we could’ve been doin’ this for longer?” Joel huffs a laugh in response, it’s genuine and the sound makes you feel fuzzy. “Guess we’ve got some catchin’ up to do” you mumble, you don’t register what Joel says in response, far too focused on what he’d said before.

‘You make her happy’

Happy is something you hadn’t been in a long time and you suspect, something Tess and Joel have been missing too. You make her happy, you’ve renewed her, pulling laughs and smiles with ease.

What’s that Fireflies saying ‘when you’re lost in the darkness, look for the light’

That’s you. You’re the light. Tess started a fire within you and she’s been basking in the glow and now she wants to share your light with Joel and you’ll gladly let her.

𝐉𝐎𝐄𝐋 𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐑 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

#joel miller fanfiction #joel miller smut #tess servopoulos fanfiction #tess servopoulos smut #joel miller x reader #tess servopoulos x reader #joel miller x you #tess servopoulos x you #joel x reader x tess #tlou fanfiction #tlou smut #light | joel x reader x tess #love potions writing #love potion writes #han writes

539 notes · View notes

corazondebeskar-reads · 4 months

Text

ain't no rest for the wicked masterlist - COMPLETE

Tess Servopoulos x f!reader x Joel Miller

Rating: Explicit. 18+ only.

Status: complete

Series Summary: Joel would never complain about what he and Tess have. The only thing is that, sometimes, he’d like to be the one in control. Tess has a proposition: she’ll find a sub for Joel that they can both enjoy. It’s not an easy feat... until they stumble upon you in a dark alley.

Series Warnings: dark-ish Joel and Tess, smuggler!Joel, smuggler!Tess, boston QZ, QZ life, author makes up stuff about how QZs work, stalking, breaking and entering, tess and joel are kind of creepy, d/s dynamics without calling it d/s, poorly negotiated scenes, poor communication, fully consensual, use of ma'am & sir, vaginal sex, anal sex, oral sex, strap-on, spanking, rough sex, impact play, bondage, canon-typical violence, teeny tiny plot but mostly pwp, canon compliant-ish, angst, bittersweet ending/no happily ever after, no y/n

playlist

I: ain't no rest for the wicked

II: trouble will find you

III: been sinnin' in this city

IV: no telling what tomorrow holds

V: way down below

#joel miller x reader #tess servopoulos x reader #tess servopoulos x reader x joel miller #tess x reader x joel #tess x joel x reader #tess servopolous x joel miller #joel miller x you #tess servopoulos x you #tess x you x joel #the last of us fic #the last of us fanfic

176 notes · View notes

allfoolsinluv · 1 year

Text

Crave - Part One

Pairing: Eventual Joel Miller x f!babysitter!Reader x Tess Servopoulos; Joel Miller x Tess Servopoulos Summary: Tess and Joel throw you for a bit of a loop when you come over to babysit. Word Count: 6.7k Rating: Explicit, 18+. Minors DNI. Warnings: oh boy here we go... modern AU (no apocalypse, Sarah's alive, Tess has a son + Ellie is her niece 😌) established relationship (Joel + Tess), age gap (reader's in her 20s, Joel & Tess are in their early/mid-40s), mutual pining, teasing + flirting, kind of unresolved sexual tension, food + alcohol mentions, imagined m/f/f threesome, dirty talk up the wazoo, unprotected p-in-v, switch!Joel vibes, dom!Tess vibes, f masturbation, use of a vibrator. i thiiiiink that's everything idk, lmk if i missed anything a/n: WELCOME TO MY BRAIN this is all i have been thinking about since Joel + Tess graced our screens last month <3 big thank you to @pedrito-friskito for enabling this nastiness and for reading this over for me 💗 and for helping me give this thing a title LOL, which is taken from the new paramore song of the same name. love u bby! dividers here.

main masterlist // series masterlist // taglist

You really shouldn’t be staring.

Tess is talking, something about new bedtimes and soccer practice in the morning. You’re half-paying attention, nodding along when appropriate, giving noncommittal yeahs and okays when you need to. But it’s so fucking hard to really focus on anything that she’s saying when she’s standing in front of you looking like that.

Her black dress hugs her body perfectly, accentuating her curves. The neckline dips just enough to tease her cleavage, and the little teardrop diamond necklace she’s wearing draws your eyes straight to it. She looks beautiful, and the only thing you can think about while you should be paying attention to her instructions for the evening, is just how badly you want to strip everything she’s wearing off of her.

“I think that’s everything,” she says, clapping her hands together. The sound pulls you from your reverie and you have to blink a few times to bring yourself back down to earth. When you meet her eyes, you find that she’s already looking at your face, a faint smirk on her lips and a slight raise to her brow. The way she’s looking at you makes your cheeks heat and you have to clear your throat before you can respond.

“Got it,” you say, your voice wavering a bit.

“Don’t be afraid to call or shoot one of us a text if you have any questions,” Tess adds. She approaches you, the sound of her heels against the kitchen tile echoing in your ears. She stops just in front of you, close enough for you to reach out and touch her if you wanted to. And oh, how you desperately wanted to. She beats you to it, though, reaching out to gently brush her hand over your shoulder and down your arm, giving your bicep a light squeeze. “Just in case, ya know?”

You freeze at the contact, your whole body going stiff. Your eyes drop to where Tess is still holding onto your arm. She squeezes you again, a bit harder this time, and you suck in a shaking breath. When you look back up at her, she’s got that same smirk on her face. It makes your heart pound and your stomach flutter. Unable to find your voice, all you can manage is a nod.

“I’m ready to go whenever you are, honey,” Joel says as he steps into the kitchen. Tess lets go of your arm and takes a step back from you, turning to look at her partner. The space between you two allows your body to relax somewhat, and you’re able to finally take in a normal breath. Your eyes flick over to Joel, and it’s like all of the air has been punched out of you again.

He looks incredible in his white button-up, black blazer, and dark-wash jeans. His dark curls are combed and slicked back, still damp from the shower. You can smell his cologne from where you’re standing, and the scent makes your mouth water.

God, you are so fucked.

Joel gives you a warm smile when he sees you. He says your name in greeting and asks, “How’ve you been? How’s school?”

You blink at him a few times while trying to force your brain back online. You’re so focused on pulling yourself together, you miss the knowing look Joel and Tess share with each other at how long it’s taking you to answer.

“Uh, good! I’ve been good, thanks,” you finally manage to respond with a nervous laugh. “School’s… alright, I guess. Keeping me busy. And stressed.”

“I’ll bet,” Joel says with a laugh. “But you��re managing it just fine, sweetheart.”

You can physically feel your knees go weak at the pet name. It takes everything in you not to collapse to the cool tile floor right then and there.

“Well, I think we better get going,” Tess says, taking a hold of Joel’s hand. “You and the kids should be all set for the evening. Remember, lights are out at ten. Everyone’s got some kind of practice early tomorrow morning. Oh, and if any of them give you trouble over that damn Switch, you can remind them that it goes in the trash if they don’t put it away when you tell them to.”

That gets you to chuckle, knowing how serious Tess is about that. There’ve been more fights between the kids over that thing in the three months since their Uncle Tommy bought it for them than there have been in the entire year you’ve been babysitting them.

“Got it,” you say with a giggle. You don’t catch the way Joel swallows at the sound or how Tess’ mouth forms a soft o.

The three of you stand in silence for a moment before Joel clears his throat and says, “Okay, then. Follow us out so you can lock up?”

You nod your head and follow them out of the kitchen and towards the front door in the living room. On the way to the door, Joel stops at the couch, bending over the side of it to place a kiss on the top of Sarah’s head.

“Bye, baby. Tess and I’ll see you later. Mind your sitter, understand?”

Sarah looks up from her book and gives her dad a smile. “I will, promise.”

“I know you will,” Joel grins. “Love you.”

“Love you, too.” Sarah looks over at Tess and gives her a wave. “Bye, Tess! Hope you guys have fun.”

“Thanks, sweetie,” Tess smiles. She turns to the stairs and calls up, “Ellie! Micah! Joel and I are leaving!”

You can hear two sets of feet scrambling around on the second floor. A door opens, and another slams shut. Ellie and Micah are bounding the stairs a second later, squabbling the whole way over who was there first.

Joel rolls his eyes at them, but Tess lets out an amused chuckle.

"Bye, mom!" Micah says as he steps on the landing, running straight to Tess. He tackles her in a big hug, the force making her wobble a little in her heels.

You find yourself reaching out to steady her at the same time Joel does. Your hand grazes his at the small of her back. Quickly, you pull your hand away, shoving both of them into the back pocket of your jeans. You pretend not to notice the way his eyes follow your movements.

Tess leans down to press a kiss on her son's head. "Bye, kid. Behave, you hear me? No arguing over that Switch."

Micah sighs but nods his head as he pulls away. "Yes, mom."

"Good," she smiles. Tess turns her attention to her niece next. "And you, missy. I don't want any trouble from you over bedtime, understand?"

All three of the kids groan at the word bedtime. Their indignation makes you giggle—it's the same song and dance every time sports season comes back around.

"Bedtime?" Ellie complains. "Really? We're not babies anymore, ya know."

"Hey now," Joel says gruffly, his eyes narrowing at the young girl. "You watch your tone with your Aunt. And you know as well as I do that if we left you kids to your own devices, you'd be up all night and miss your practices in the morning."

Ellie looks like she's about to argue, her mouth opening with a retort on her tongue, but she thinks better of it. With a sigh, she nods her head. "Fair enough, I guess."

"Fair enough," Joel huffs under his breath, a small smile creeping up on his face. Ellie laughs and swats his hand away as he reaches out to ruffle her hair. They finish saying goodbyes, and after one last threat from Tess to the kids to behave, you’re following them to the door.

“We’ll text when we’re on the way back,” Tess says as she and Joel step outside. She stops on the front porch, turning back to look at you one last time. “Thanks again, sweetheart.”

How is it possible for a nickname to get you so damn flustered? First from Joel, now from Tess. You were honestly surprised you were still standing at this point.

“Uh, yeah, of course,” you manage to stammer out. “Hope you two have a nice evening.”

“We will,” Tess winks at you. Winks. The woman fucking winks, and you can’t help the way your breath catches in your throat. “Bye now.”

You watch them as they walk out to their car. Joel holds the door open for Tess, holding her hand as she steps inside. When he closes the door, he turns and catches your eye. He watches you for a moment, a knowing smirk on his face. You can’t handle the weight of his gaze anymore, quickly closing and locking the door before he can walk around to the driver’s side.

Once the lock is clicked into place, you rest your forehead against the cool wood of the door. Sarah’s gone back to her book, her attention far and away from you. Ellie and Micah have made their way back upstairs, the faint sounds of their arguing over who gets to play on the Switch next filling the house. You know you’ll have to go deal with that, but Jesus, do you need a minute.

You shouldn’t want them as much as you do. But you can’t help it—the way they make you feel, the things you think about doing to them, the things you think about them doing to you. They’re happy and in love, and you’re just the girl who watches their kids. They don’t want you the same way that you want them. Right?

“You shoulda seen the way she was ogling me in the kitchen before you came in,” Tess sighs, reaching over the center console to grab Joel’s hand and pull it into her lap. “I don’t think she heard a single word I said. God, the look on her face was so fuckin’ cute.”

“She looked like she was gonna melt into the goddamn floor with the way you were holdin’ her arm. What was that all about?” Joel asks, giving Tess’ hand a squeeze. He chances a look over at her, just quick enough to catch her shrug.

“Wanted to see her get flustered.”

Joel chuckles, shaking his head. “You’re a fuckin’ menace, you know that? You gotta stop teasing that poor girl.”

“I’m the one who needs to stop?” Tess scoffs. “Says the man who nearly sent her into cardiac arrest by callin’ her ‘sweetheart.’”

“Oh, please. That was nothin’ compared to the torture you were puttin’ her through.”

“I was not torturing her, Joel. You and I both know that I could put her through far worse than that.” Tess doesn’t miss the way Joel tries to subtly shift himself in the driver’s seat at her comment. She continues, “That was just a little bit of fun. You know she liked it. Bet it got her all wet, ruined her panties.”

“Jesus, Tess,” Joel groans, squeezing her hand tighter. “You can’t say shit like that to me when I’m drivin’.”

“Why?” She asks, untangling her hand from his. She reaches over the console and plants her hand on his thigh. She digs her nails into his skin over the denim, smirking at the way it makes him hiss. “Don’t you like thinking about how much the babysitter wants to fuck us? How we can make her forget her own name without even having to lay a finger on her pussy?”

As she speaks, her hand slowly moves up Joel’s leg, until she’s cupping his bulge in her palm. She gives him a rough squeeze as she asks, “Isn’t nice to be wanted just as badly as we want her?”

“You keep talkin’ like that and I’m gonna crash the fuckin’ car,” Joel says from behind gritted teeth.

Tess chuckles as she pulls her hand away. “Deny it all you want, Miller. I know you well enough by now to know you wanna fuck her just as much as I do.”

Joel doesn’t respond—can’t respond. He knows if he does, they’ll never make it to the fucking restaurant.

It’s nearly eleven when your phone buzzes with a text from Tess. Almost home, it says.

You huff a small sigh as you start to pack up your bag. Luckily, the kids didn’t give you too much trouble over their bedtime, and they were all fast asleep within a half hour of going to lie down. After they’d gone to bed, you pulled out your laptop and barrage of different pens and notebooks to work on an essay for one of your classes. You hadn’t made much headway on it, your mind occupied elsewhere—like on Tess and Joel and what they were doing and if they were thinking about you too.

You’ve just finished packing up the last of your pens when you hear the door unlock. The sound sends a flurry of nerves loose in your stomach. You'd practically made a fool of yourself before they left and then spent the whole night daydreaming about what it'd be like to share their bed—you don't know how you're gonna be able to face them now. Tess calls your name when she steps into the living room, prompting you to turn and face them.

They look just as good—if not better—than when they left. Tess’s hair falls in soft waves over her shoulders, no longer pinned back like it was earlier. Her lipstick has faded from her lips, only a hint of the red color there. Maybe it wore off as she drank from her wine glass at dinner. Your eyes briefly flick to Joel’s lips—maybe he kissed the color off of hers.

Joel's lost his blazer, the sleeves of his white button-up rolled up to his elbows, showing off his forearms. Your eyes follow the line of bare skin down to his hand. Fuck his hands are big. You can't stop the image that flashes across your mind, his hand around your throat while Tess lies between your legs. The imagined sight sends a small shiver down your spine.

Joel says your name this time, the sound startling you and pulling you out of your head. You realize they've been talking to you, and you've just been standing there staring at them like an idiot. If your cheeks get any hotter, they're going to burst into flames.

"Sorry," you laugh nervously, wringing your hands together in front of you. "Um… what'd you say again?"

Tess chuckles as she glances over at Joel. He's got a small smirk on his face as he nods back in your direction. She turns to you again and replies, "I asked how everything went. Were the kids okay, they give you any trouble?"

Duh, you scold yourself. Of course they're asking about their kids that they're paying you to take care of.

"Oh! Yeah, no, they were fine," you say. "Ellie was a little resistant to bedtime, but all I had to do was hold the Switch over the trash can and she took off upstairs to her room. I checked on her about fifteen minutes after that and she was asleep."

"Little shit," Joel shakes his head with a chuckle. "Good call with the Switch and the trash, though, sweetheart. I might have to try that the next time they're screamin' their heads off over who gets to play it."

You laugh at that, rocking back and forth a bit on your heels to hide how much hearing him call you sweetheart gets to you. You need to get out of their house now.

"Well, I better get going," you say, slinging your bag over your shoulder. "I hope you two had a nice time out tonight."

"Thanks again for everything. We appreciate it," Tess says. She reaches into her bag for her wallet, pulling it out to pay you. As she's counting the cash, she asks, "How're you gettin' home? We didn't see your car out front. Someone picking you up?"

"Ah," you sigh. "My roommate dropped me off before her shift at work because my car's in the shop ‘til tomorrow afternoon. She's still working, though, so I was just gonna take an Uber home."

"Absolutely not," Tess says as she hands you the money. "You're not goin' out in an Uber this late at night by yourself. Joel will drive you home."

"No, no, it's fine," you say quickly. There is no way you would survive a car ride with Joel. "You guys just got home, I couldn't ask you to do that."

"You're not askin'," Joel says, crossing his arms over his chest. "We're offering. And it's not up for debate. I'm drivin' you home."

You know you have no room to argue with them. This is happening—Joel is driving you home.

You’re fucked.

“O-okay,” you say shakily. “Thank you.”

After you grab your bag, Tess walks you and Joel out to the car. Her hand brushes yours as you walk side-by-side on the concrete path to the driveway, and you hope the chill of the night air helps explain away the shiver that goes down your spine at the feeling of her skin against yours.

“Thanks again for watching the kids,” Tess says when you reach the car. Before you can, she’s opening up the door for you, gesturing for you to enter the vehicle. You duck your head in thanks, sliding into the front seat and placing your bag down at your feet. She leans against the open door, her frame looming above yours. You have to look up to meet her eye, and seeing her look down at you makes you gulp.

“You have a good rest of your night, sweetheart,” she continues, nodding down at your bag. “Don’t work too hard. Relax, enjoy yourself, okay?”

“Okay,” you breathe out. “I will. Thank you.”

Tess winks at you with a soft nod of her head. She and Joel say quick goodbyes before she’s shutting your door and heading back inside. As Joel turns on the car, you reach up to pull your seatbelt into place. You’re able to pull it out about an inch before it locks. You pull it a couple of times, trying to get it to unlock, but it won’t budge. You let it go with a huff, ready to give up on it.

“Oh, sorry about that,” Joel says. “Damn thing’s finicky as hell, been meaning to take it apart see what’s wrong with it for ages. Lemme help.”

Before you even have a chance to respond, Joel’s reaching over the center to grab ahold of the seatbelt. His body leans over yours, your face leveled perfectly with his chest. Your senses are overwhelmed by him—the broadness of his body, his natural scent mixed with his cologne, the sound of his breathing in your ear. It all swirls together to steal the breath from your lungs. You feel dizzy, almost, completely surrounded by him.

You don’t know what he does to get the seatbelt to unlock, but he’s able to pull it out all the way. You expect him to hand it to you, but he doesn’t. Instead, he slowly leans back towards his seat, taking it with him. He uses both of his hands to adjust the seatbelt in place against your body, reaching down to buckle it in for you. The click of the buckle feels deafening in the quiet car.

“There you go,” Joel murmurs, still close enough to you that you can feel his breath against the side of your face.

With a shaking breath, you slowly turn your head to face him. He’s so fucking close, your lips a hairs-breadth away from his. It’d be so easy for you to just lean forward and close the distance between the two of you, to put your lips on his. You couldn’t do that, though.

Could you?

Joel makes the decision for you, closing the space between you and kissing you with fervor. The force of it makes you moan, and he doesn’t miss the opportunity to slide his tongue into your mouth. Your eyes flutter shut as your hands reach up to tangle into his hair, gripping it and pulling him even closer to you. He groans into your mouth, the sound vibrating down your body and settling in your core.

He nips at your bottom lip, grabbing it between his teeth and pulling on it. The pain of his bite and the sharpness of the tug makes you whine. He soothes the ache with his tongue. Slowly, he plants one smaller, softer kiss on your lips before he pulls away. He plops back down into the driver’s seat, his eyes glassy as he looks at you. Your chest is heaving, your lungs not able to take in enough air. He says something to you, but the blood in your head is pounding so loud you can’t hear him.

Joel says your name once, twice, three times before the sound registers in your brain. You blink rapidly in an attempt to clear your head. When your eyes finally refocus, you’re mortified by what you see.

He looks normal. His hair isn’t messed up from your fingers, his lips aren’t shiny and kiss-swollen, he’s not panting for breath. It’s as if he didn’t just give you the best kiss of your life.

It hits you, then, that you fucking imagined the whole thing. Your eyes go wide at the realization, embarrassment shooting through you. You laugh nervously, avoiding his eyes.

“Sorry! I must have spaced out. It’s been a long day,” you attempt to deflect, your voice completely lacking the confidence you need to sell it. “What’d you say?”

“I asked for your address,” he says, his voice laced with amusement. God, he must think you’re an idiot. You wouldn’t be surprised if he and Tess found a new babysitter for the kids.

You rattle off the address of your apartment building and he types it into his phone. Once he knows where he’s going, he backs out of the driveway and takes off down the street.

The car ride to your apartment building is spent in silence. You’re too embarrassed to speak and Joel seems to sense your unease, respecting it enough to not try and force conversation. You’re grateful for that, knowing you’d only make an even bigger fool of yourself if you tried to talk to him right now. After about fifteen minutes, Joel’s pulling into the parking lot of your building.

Before you can thank him for the ride home, he’s unbuckling his seatbelt and getting out of the car. You watch him through the windshield as he jogs across the front of the car and to your door. He opens it and leans over you, leaving you to stare at him, dumbfounded.

“This is it, right?” he asks. When you nod your head yes, he continues, “Aren’t you gonna get out, then?”

Without a word, you unbuckle your seatbelt and grab your bag from the floor. Joel moves out of the way enough for you to comfortably step out of the car, but the front of your body brushes against him as you do. You step away from him as subtly as you can while he closes the door.

“C’mon,” he says, nodding towards your building. “I’ll walk you to your door.”

You nod, shouldering your bag and heading in the direction of your apartment. The walk to your door is quick, thankfully. Under different circumstances, you’d be thrilled to be spending this much time alone with Joel. Right now, though, all you want is to go inside and be alone.

“This is me,” you say when you reach your apartment. You turn to Joel and plaster on what you hope to be a convincing smile. “Thanks again for the ride home.”

“Anytime,” he says with a soft grin. “You head on inside, now. Enjoy your night.”

Your smile morphs into something softer, more genuine, as you nod your head. “Okay, I will. Goodnight, Joel.”

“G’night, sweetheart.”

He watches as you unlock the door with shaking hands, waits until you step inside, and give him a shy, parting smile. You don’t hear his retreating footsteps until after you click the lock into place. You drop your bag to the floor and turn to press your back against the cool wood of the door.

“Fuck,” you say out into your quiet apartment. For the first time all evening, you feel like you can breathe. Finally alone, you allow yourself to acknowledge how uncomfortably wet your panties have gotten. You’re gonna need to take care of that before you can focus on anything else.

Joel takes the stairs up to the second floor two at a time when he gets home. He’s anxious to get to Tess, having made the fifteen-minute ride home in less than ten. He’s hard in his jeans, practically bursting through the fly. He needs Tess, and he needs her now.

When he enters their shared bedroom, he finds her reclined on the bed, a book in her hands. She’s already changed out of her outfit from dinner, replacing her cocktail dress with a simple blue nightie. He couldn’t care less what she’s wearing right now, though—it’ll be on the floor in a matter of minutes.

Tess smirks when she gets a good look at Joel. His cheeks are flushed red, his pupils are blown wide, his chest is heaving. She slowly sets the book down on the bedside table and asks, “I take it dropping her off went fine.”

“Fine,” Joel grumbles as he approaches her, working at the buttons of his shirt. When it’s open, hanging unbuttoned off his shoulders, he grabs her ankle, pulling her down the bed to meet him at the edge. He grinds his hard cock against her clothed center, the twin groans echoing through the room. “Does this feel like it went fine to you?”

“Jesus, Joel,” Tess whimpers, shifting her hips to try and get more friction. “What the hell happened?”

“I’ll tell you what the hell happened,” Joel huffs. His hands find the hem of her nightie, roughly pulling it up and over her head. He drops it to the ground without ceremony and shrugs his own shirt off all the way. He takes a moment to admire Tess’ bare body underneath him, how beautiful she looks with her hair fanning out against the sheets, the way her chest heaves with each excited breath.

He continues, looking back up at her eyes, “The fuckin’ seatbelt locked on her and she couldn’t get it out. Had to reach over and do it for her. Could feel her breathin’ on my skin. Took everything in me not to fuck her right there in the front seat. She spaced out, got that glassy look in her eyes, the same one you get when you come. Don’t know what she was thinkin’ about, but I could tell she wanted it just as bad as I did. Then I had to spend fifteen fuckin’ minutes in the car with her, alone, all while tryin’ not to finish in my pants like a goddamn teenager.”

“Fuck,” Tess breathes out. Her hands slide up Joel’s arms and over his shoulders before curling into his hair and tugging. He groans at the sensation, dropping his head to rest against hers. “Tell me what she looked like when you buckled her in.”

Joel continues to grind his hips down against Tess, uncaring of the mess she’s undoubtedly making on his pants. He’s relishing in the noises she’s making for him as she thinks of you. It makes him harder than it should, knowing his partner is getting off to the thought of another person. He answers her, “She looked so fuckin’ sweet. Her lips were parted, eyes blown wide. She was tremblin’, could it feel it when I situated the strap against her chest. Poor thing didn’t know what to do with herself.”

“Jesus Christ,” Tess whimpers. She bucks her hips up into his, whining at the friction. It’s good, but it’s not enough. “Need you, Joel. Want you to fuck me while you tell me how we’d fuck her if she were here.”

Joel practically growls at Tess’ request. He pulls away from her just long enough to get his jeans and boxers off and onto the floor. He’s back on her in a second, pushing one of her thighs down on the bed to spread her open for him.

“Filthy fuckin’ woman,” Joel grumbles as he runs the tip of his cock over Tess’ soaked pussy. He taps the tip against her clit a few times, smirking at the whine it draws out from her throat. “Need my cock while we talk about fuckin’ the babysitter, huh?”

It happens in the blink of an eye. One second, he’s hovering over her, teasing and taunting her. The next, Joel’s laying flat on his back, Tess straddling his hips. He barely has time to register the change in position before she’s sinking down on him all the way. The feeling of her warm, wet cunt wrapped so suddenly around his cock forces a shout from his mouth. She covers his mouth with one of her hands, looking down at him with a glare as her chest heaves.

“I said talk, Miller,” Tess says breathlessly, lifting up a little before sinking back down. The movement makes Joel groan, the sound vibrating against her hand and sending a shiver throughout her body. “Not tease. Now, you’re gonna shut up and listen while I tell you what we’d do if she were here.”

Joel nods his agreement, the fire in his eyes dimming and turning glassy now that Tess has taken over. Her movements start out slow, letting them both adjust to the feeling of his cock being inside of her. Joel groans against Tess’ hand and she smirks down at him, rolling her hips faster over him, moving in a way she knows is going to get both of them to the end quickly.

“I know you’re just dyin’ to find out what her pussy tastes like,” Tess moans. “I’d spread her open for you, have her back pressed tight up against my chest, put my legs over hers so she couldn’t shut ‘em.”

She cuts herself off with a whimper as Joel’s hips buck up to meet the movements of her hips. They settle into a rhythm together, Joel fucking up into her every time she moves to sink down on him. She continues, “Let you bury your face in her sweet cunt while I play with her tits. You’re so good with your tongue, Joel, you’d make her come so hard.”

Joel lets out a muffled fuck, his eyes screwing shut as he imagines what Tess is describing to him. You, with your beautiful body on display for them, your legs spread open by Tess’, your pretty pussy wet and needy for his mouth. He wonders what kind of sounds you’d make—would you be loud, your moans rumbling out of your chest unabashedly? Or would you be quiet, soft whines and whimpers falling from your lips? He wouldn’t care—he’d want it all.

“I’d put her mouth to work next,” Tess says, breaking his attention from the fantasy. “Let her eat my pussy while you fuck her from behind. Would you like that? Do you wanna fuck her tight little pussy while she eats me out?”

Joel nods his head furiously in agreement. Yes, he very much wants that. He can see it so clearly in his mind—Tess writhing in pleasure while you lick at her cunt, your own moans vibrating through her while Joel takes your pussy hard and fast. He’d have the perfect view of your ass, able to see the way your skin ripples with the force of his thrusts. He could grab both of your cheeks in his hands, could smack them ‘til they were hot and burning. You’d take it all—you’d take everything from them. It’s that thought that brings Joel to his end.

His orgasm hits him like a storm, his hips stuttering against Tess’ as he moans brokenly behind her hand. His cock twitches inside of her, filling her up with the thick ropes of his come. She sighs at the feeling, moving faster to work him through it. She finally pulls her hand away from his mouth and he takes in a shuddering breath, watching with hooded eyes as she licks the pads of two of her fingers. Quickly, she brings them down to where she and Joel are joined, rubbing her clit in tight, wet circles. It only takes her a moment to come, too, the fluttering of her pussy around his over-sensitive cock pulling a hoarse shout from him.

Tess falls forward onto Joel’s chest when she’s come down from her high. He wraps his arms around her, holding her tightly against them as they both fight to catch their breaths. The weight of Tess’ body on top of his, the warm air of her breathing on his chest, helps to ground Joel back in reality. He can’t remember the last time he came that hard, and he almost feels guilty about the fact that it was because he was thinking about you.

He doesn’t feel guilty, though. Not when he knows talking about you got Tess off, too.

Tess pushes herself up on shaking arms and smiles down at Joel. “Told you so.”

Joel’s face scrunches up in confusion. “What?”

“In the car,” Tess says, her smile morphing into more of a smirk. “I said I knew you wanted to fuck her just as much as I did. The way you just came from me talkin’ about her proved me right.”

“Shut up,” Joel scoffs out with a laugh. He leans up to kiss her, entirely too soft and sweet for the way she’s still sitting on his softening cock, his come leaking out around the sides. She smiles against his lips, pulling away slightly to peck him a few times in rapid succession.

“Think she got off thinking about us tonight, too?” Tess asks against Joel’s lips.

He groans in response, his eyes falling shut. “You’re a fucking menace.”

You can hardly wait to lock yourself in your room after Joel brings you home to kick off your shorts and panties. You’re aching, desperate to make yourself come and hopefully clear some of the brain fog he and Tess have caused you this evening. You get comfortable in your bed, pull your vibrator out from your nightstand, and get to work.

Your orgasm comes easily. You’re already so close to the edge, all of your thoughts and fantasies of Joel and Tess—them together, separately, both with you and without you—blurring in your head as you work your vibrator over your clit. Within a matter of minutes, you’re coming, your back arching off of the bed and their names falling from your lips like a prayer.

You swirl your vibrator around your clit a few more times until the oversensitivity becomes too much. You click the toy off and toss it to the side. With a frustrated sigh, you bring your hands up to rub at your eyes.

It’s nearly painful how badly you want Joel and Tess. You thought that, maybe, if you could make yourself come to the thought of them just once, you’d be able to clear your system. That you could go back to functioning around them like a normal person. The dull ache that still remains in your pussy, despite having come already and being too sensitive to try for another one, only serves to prove your theory wrong.

You haven’t cleared them from your system. In fact, it seems like you’ve only made your desire for them worse. You can’t stop thinking about them, what it’d be like for them to take you to bed. You don’t think they’d be slow or sweet—or at least Tess wouldn’t. No, she’d tease you, work you up and bring you just to the edge, over and over, but wouldn’t let you fall. She’d keep you hanging until you were begging for it. Only then would she let you come, maybe on her fingers, probably on her tongue.

Then there’s Joel. God, what would it be like to fuck him? Would he hold you close as he sunk into you? Or would he push your face down into the mattress and haul your ass up into the air so he could fuck you from behind? Your read on him wasn’t as solid as your read on Tess, but fuck, did you like to imagine him any way you could.

The thought of Joel fucking you from behind while your tongue is buried in Tess’ pussy springs to your mind. It sends a jolt of arousal through your body and makes your cunt throb. You let out a pitiful whimper as you look over at your vibrator. Fuck it, you think, reaching for the toy again and clicking it on.

You don’t even try to muffle the moan that tears from your throat when you press the toy against your clit. You work it over your sensitive bundle as you continue to imagine Joel’s cock pounding into you, your tongue working over Tess’ pussy sloppily. You can practically hear the sounds they’d make, Joel’s rough grunts and Tess’ low moans. You’d whimper into Tess, the vibration traveling through her body. She’d grab your head and hold you steady, grinding her pussy up into your eager mouth. Both of them would take and take and take from you—and you’d be all too happy to give.

You feel like you might pass out then and there when you come for a second time. Stars burst behind your eyelids as your cunt tightens and contracts around nothing. Your thighs clamp shut around your hand as you ride out the waves of pleasure. With shaking fingers, you turn off your vibrator and drop it onto the bed beneath you.

You barely register the sound of your phone dinging with a text notification over the rush of blood in your head. You ignore it until your breathing has gone back to normal and your body has stopped shaking. When you grab it and open up your text messages, you nearly drop the device on your face at seeing Tess’ name on your screen.

Hey sweetheart! Sorry to bug ya so late, but wanted to ask before I forgot. Joel and I both have to work late on Monday and the kids all have their different practices after school. If you’re free, can you get ‘em where they need to be, then hang out with them out at the house til one of us gets home? We’ll pay extra since it’s so last minute, just let us know 😘

Fuck. You can’t do it. Not so soon after tonight. You wouldn’t be able to survive it.

Your hands are moving over your keyboard, tapping out a response before your brain even has time to catch up.

“I don’t have to work late on Monday,” Joel murmurs. Tess scoffs and rolls her eyes at him.

“Yeah, but she doesn’t have to know that. Go grab a beer with Tommy after work or something. It’s just to get her over here again.”

As much as Joel wants to have you join him and Tess in bed, he’s unsure of her plan to test the waters with you. It seems risky, like it could maybe back you into a corner that you don’t want to be in.

“We’ll both get her alone,” Tess had said after they’d cleaned up together. “Flirt a little, see how she reacts. Maybe we can each make a little move on her. If she seems into it, we’ll talk to her about joining us.”

“Think it’ll work?” Joel had asked skeptically.

Tess gave him a mischievous little smile. “It’ll work.”

Tess’ phone vibrates before he can respond. She quickly unlocks it, opening up the text notification from you. Joel gulps as he reads it, Tess’ face breaking out into a wide smile as she does.

Of course! It won’t be a problem at all. See you on Monday 😊

Joel rereads the text over and over and over again. It’s a simple response, nothing out of the ordinary for your exchanges with Tess. But it ignites a—perhaps unfounded—spark of hope in his belly.

Maybe this will work.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #tess servopoulos x reader #tess servopoulos x you #joel miller x tess servopoulos #joel miller fanfiction #tess servopoulos fanfiction #tlou fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction #pedro pascal character fanfiction

480 notes · View notes

mariasabanahabanabana · 1 year

Text

Wait... what?

Pairing: Joel Miller x Tess Servopoulos x Adopted!Daughter!Reader x Ellie Williams.

Summary: Your innocence and naivety almost ended up getting you and Ellie into serious trouble.

A/N: I know I've said it before, but, not all of my fics will follow the chronological order of the story, nor will they be as faithful to their origins, I mean, in certain aspects, but not all of them.

Warnings: Slight mention of topics such as stalking, farting, and kidnapping… (Don't worry, I won't go into them too much).

Spanish version available here

If there was something that kept surprising and at the same time disappointing (in an ironic way) both you and Ellie, it was the fact that despite being at the end of the hell of the world, schools still existed, it was mandatory to attend them, homework was still as or worse complicated and of course, taking classes that probably wouldn't help you at all, well, this would depend on what you would do in the future if there was one, to begin with.

A thought that deep inside Joel, as well as Tess, Tommy, Maria, or Marlene supported, but that none of them dared to admit out loud so as not to discourage you. With the exception of Tommy, who once when you called him for help with your trigonometry homework scoffed at the usefulness of the assignment. "I'll tell you something kiddo, in all this time I've been surviving the damn apocalypse I have never used tangents or anything like that and if I'm honest, I don't know how knowing that could help me defend myself against a clicker, anyway, where were we at?"

Yeah, maybe after that Joel "forbade" you girls from asking his younger brother for help with Homework.

Anyway, today was their first day of classes and both you and Ellie couldn't find yourselves more terrified and at the same time fascinated by the subjects to be studied in the following months.

Luckily for you, your classes were over, and possibly Ellie's too, you didn't have too much homework, and with the minimal homework that came to you or became complicated, you could help each other, although, thinking better of it, you couldn't. Since you and Ellie were not good at the practical part of the science, the best thing to do would be to go to Marlene or Tess.

Bored of waiting alone and standing in the middle of the hallway for Ellie, your friend and non-biology sister, you decided to go out to distract yourself for a while, a situation that would not be a problem given your extreme curiosity, naivety, which sometimes led you to peculiar situations, not to say problematic, just like right now.

When Ellie finally got out of her last class, the first thing she did was to look for you, not finding you in the library or in the cafeteria, she assumed you would be in the garden at the entrance, and so it was. There you were, standing there talking with a couple that clearly was twice your age, something that Ellie found strange at the time since the social circle of both was similar, simply put, and judging by how well she had known you, she knew that you were an orphan of parents and probably of a family as well. For all these reasons Ellie was surprised to see you talking so animatedly with those strangers.

As she got closer, something inside her told her that they were in danger and that they should get away from there and them now.

"Hey (Y/N), 'til I find you, Joel just called me and said not to be late, as we're on patrol today and making dinner." In a subtle and casual manner, she puts her arm around your arm in an attempt to get you to walk.

"What? Again? But we had to cook at this weekend… That old grumpy bastard".

"Yeah well, you know how old man is… we'd better hurry up." As Ellie said this, she could see the way that old couple was staring at you. It was a bit awkward and uncomfortable.

"'Kay…" You turned to your "new friends." "It was nice to meet you Mr. and Mrs. Weinsptein… I hope you manage to find your puppy…"

Before you could even take the first step, suddenly your hand was grabbed by The Husband, stopping you abruptly. "Don't you girls like us to take you home?

"Oh really? that would be fantastic…" Before you could even respond Ellie interrupted you.

"Don't worry, we'll be fine, besides our father is coming for us…"

Confused by your friend's recent attitude and words, you looked at her with a raised eyebrow, since Joel wasn't the kind of person who usually picked you up or dropped you off at school.

"Actually, I think he just got here… but thanks…" Without looking back, Ellie pulled you towards her, causing the old man's grip on your hands to loosen.

Even though you were far away from that couple and probably halfway back home, Ellie never let go of your hand, it was not a grip like the previous one that the man had given you, this was a soft, delicate touch, one that gave you a sense of confidence and security.

"So… How was your first day? Joel asked.

Again, Joel was not the kind of person who used to take too much interest in the lives of others, but as time went by his heart softened and opened up to the two of you.

"Oh it was definitely a day we won't forget" you replied with a smile as you took a bite of your food.

"And that? That bad was it?" Now it was Tess who was interested in the course of the conversation and your day.

"Not at all…or well, not as such since we're almost adopted."

"What." A dismayed Joel and Tees asked in unison, to which Ellie immediately corrected you.

"Actually we're almost kidnapped."

"Oh, okay…and how about the homew…? Wait, how?" For the second time in record time, Joel and Tess's reaction was once again simultaneous, the only difference being that Tess was half a mouthful of meat.

Spanish version available

268 notes · View notes

covetyou · 6 months

Text

honey, you're familiar

ao3 ⋆ main masterlist ⋆ series masterlist

pairing: Tess Servopoulos x f!reader rating: Explicit (18+ only!) warnings: dub-con, oral (f receiving), fingering, readers first time with another woman, one use of good girl, drug reference. word count: 3.3k summary: The first time your father struggles to afford his pills you figure you'll do what you can to help. All you need to do is find his dealer and talk to him, right? How difficult could a man like that be to find.

A/N: we needed more time with Anna Torv Tess. Like, a whole series more time.

prequel to something wretched about this. can be read as a stand-alone.

follow @covetedfics and turn notifications on for updates on future work

divider by @saradika

Now's your chance. Probably fucking stupid really, pulling a stunt like this on a woman like her, but you don't know how else to reach her, where else to go. This is the best option you have. So you grab her arm.

Your fingers have barely clasped around her jacket when she's twisting, hand raised ready to back-hand whoever dared to grab her. You flinch back, waiting for the sting of pain across your cheek, but instead she hesitates, stopping herself from striking you.

Her face pinches into a confused frown, and she wrenches your hand from her arm, throwing it away from her like you're some dirty, filthy thing, and stalks off before you can say anything.

"Please..." you start, chasing after her, not even trying to be discreet. She rounds an alleyway, and suddenly she's grabbing you, dragging and pulling you down the street, away from prying eyes, up some stairs into what you thought was an abandoned apartment block and pushing you against a wall.

"The fuck do you want."

"I'm sorry for grabbing you, I am, I just need information and your name is the only one I have and I-"

"Who the fuck is giving you my name and what for," her hand raises again, and this time you think she might really do it.

"My dad! My dad, he's sick, he has a dealer who helps him, I just need his name, I need to go see him, dad's got bad again and I-"

She backs away from you to lean on the wall opposite as you speak, shaking her head at your rambling. You're clearly already giving her a fucking headache, and she pinches her nose and raises a palm to stop you. "Slow the fuck down."

"My dad is sick."

"I know who your daddy is, you don't need to tell me he's sick, I know. What I'm wondering is why his daughter is snooping around, grabbing people, asking for names she apparently doesn't know."

"I just need to know who his dealer is. We can't pay for the pills this month and I thought maybe if I spoke to him I could..." You trail off. You both knew just speaking to whoever your dads dealer was wouldn't be the end of it, it never was. The dream was you'd asked nicely and be given what you asked for, but the reality was you probably wouldn't get it without giving something first.

"And you got my name how?"

"My dad mentioned... you?"

"Right," she says, biting back a laugh, before pushing herself away from the wall she'd been leaning on and clapping her hands. "Well, you're in luck. I'm feeling generous, and I think I can point you in the right direction. Come with me."

You follow, like a dog on a bitch in heat, practically running after her as she strides down the hallway, yanking open a door and pushing you inside. She doesn't bother to look around, knowing full well the building is cold and abandoned for a reason.

You walk further into the room as she enters behind you. There's an old desk and chair on one side, and scraps of wood, old broken furniture and stacks of chairs littered around the edges, pushed against the walls. Once upon a time it would have been a make shift office space, but now it was nothing better than a grimy, long forgotten storage room.

You turn just in time to see her propping a chair under the door handle. You stare at it as she walks past you, taking a seat at the desk. Raising a heavy booted foot up on the worn wooden edge and clasping her hands together, she looks at you with a gleam in her eyes, resting her elbows on the arms of the chair.

"So," she begins with a smirk, as a thread of realization starts to crawl up your spine. "How can I help you?"

Shit. Shit. Your dad didn't give her name because she was a friend, she was his fucking dealer. If he'd been honest with you, told you when you asked who was helping him instead of being so cagey about it, this never would have happened. You wouldn't be stuck in this room with Tess, skirting around the fact you definitely were not willing to offer your body in exchange for your fathers medication.

You quickly realize there is no way to recover from this, no way to back track or back out now. She's going to give you shit for this, you just know it, and you're going to be sent out of here humiliated and with nothing to show for it. You might have even ruined it all for your dad. The thought makes your head swim and bile rise in your throat.

You gape at her for a while and she stares back, challenging you to say something, anything, to her.

"Look," you start, trying to laugh it off, lighten the mood. "I think I've got things mixed up, so I'll just -"

"So you'll what?" she laughs cruelly. "You thought you could come find his dealer, drop to your knees, suck a dick, and get your daddies pills for free."

"I didn't - I never -"

"Do it then," she says from her seat. "Get on your knees."

You stop and start a few times, but no words come to mind. There is no way out of this. So, you slowly sink to your knees in the middle of the dusty room. You're going to get those pills.

As your knees bite into the grit on the floor you watch as her head tips to rest on the back of the chair and her shoulders softly shake, her laughter filling the room.

"Cute," she says, looking back at you, leaning forward and beckoning you toward her with two fingers. "Come here, pretty girl," she croons. "And I don't remember saying you could stand up."

You shuffle over to her on your knees, trying to keep your balance so your hands don't touch the gritty floor.

"You're going to do something for me, and then I'm going to do something for you, okay?"

"Okay," you nod in agreement, unable to make eye contact with her. That is what you came out today for after all, though you can't say the change in anatomy was expected.

"And then when you leave here, you keep your mouth shut, are we clear?"

You bite down on your lips and nod at her from the floor, looking every bit as pathetic as you feel. None of this is going how you'd planned, and you're not sure if that's for better or for worse.

"Ever eaten pussy," she asks, pulling her jacket from around her. You look up at her and shake your head, feeling impossibly small as you sink even further down on your knees. You hadn't, but had thought about it, wanted it, just never found a person to do it with, and certainly never expected to be doing it now.

"Well then, sweetie, you better be a quick learner."

She unzips her pants and pulls them under her ass, yanking them to her knees. It's all so quick you don't have time to register what's going on until her hand is on you.

"Come here," she grabs at your arm, pulling you closer as she kicks her pants to her ankles and slides back in the chair. She yanks you forward, lifts her legs over your head and pulls you in toward her with the fabric caught around her ankles. You're caged in now, trapped between her pants and her cunt, and you are totally, utterly, stunned.

"Don't, wouldn't... wouldn't a... man be better?" you stutter, trying to keep your eyes on hers and not between her legs. It's a stupid question, you know it, but you're nervous and stalling for more time doesn't seem like such a bad idea.

"If I wanted a man, I would get a man. More trouble than they're worth most of the time. You gonna try to stick your dick in me, pretty girl?"

She grabs your chin, and when you don't answer she clicks her tongue at you, pulling your face down between her legs.

"Didn't think so."

You finally look down between her soft thighs. You hadn't seen if she was wearing panties, for all you knew she was going commando under her jeans, but now here she was completely bare before you. Seeing another woman like this was strange, but not unwelcome. If you'd had more time, and the circumstances had been a bit different, you would have liked to have spent more time just looking at her. You'd never seen one up close before, only glimpsing your own as you looked down your body. Given the chance you know you would spend hours here between her legs just looking, exploring.

But that wasn't what this was, and as beautiful as Tess was, this was business.

You cast one last tentative look up as you slowly lower your face to her cunt, catching her eyes as she looks down expectantly at you.

You press your lips to her inner thigh as she watches, kissing as close to her center as you can be without touching, and let out a shaky breath. That's the first hurdle dealt with, but nerves still bubble in your belly. You kiss her soft skin once more, nosing at the sensitive flesh and breathing in her heady scent.

"Mm. Well, shit, that feels nice," she sighs, letting her head fall back and closing her eyes. You do it again, spurred on by her approval and the growing wetness between your own legs, feathering kisses all around the outside of her cunt, chaining them together so eventually you're mouthing around her delicate skin. You let your tongue peak out as your lips meander across her flesh, leaving wet trails in your wake as you move.

You psych yourself up, just go for it, taste her, do it, she wants it, what could go wrong, before you finally take the dive and lick a delicate strip through her folds. She tastes similar to you, but not quite. You give her another gentle lick, your wet tongue curiously lapping at her entrance before you move up, up, up, and press a soft kiss to her clit. Her entire body relaxes and shifts down in the chair, her legs spreading further over the arms, giving you more access and her tangled feet pushing into your back to pull you in closer.

You kiss it again, and again, before you let your tongue slip out to lap softly at the sensitive nub, licking upwards in slow strokes and dragging your bottom lip across it. You suckle on her clit for a little before releasing, wishing desperately now that you had something between your own legs too.

Feeling bolder, you lick a broader stripe across her cunt, your breath getting caught in your throat, and coming out as a small moan. Tess's sigh in response is all you need to start devouring her, dipping your tongue into her slick hole. You let your hand come up to pull her apart, making it easier for you to lap at her folds. You know your actions are unrefined, messy, but as she starts to moan above you you don't care. You feel as lost in it as she is, imagining how this would feel. A soft face and delicate fingers between your thighs. Gentle, feminine moans dancing softly across your pussy. You groan into her wet heat at the thought, rocking your hips into the empty air in an effort to chase some kind of relief.

"Keep moaning all pretty like that and anyone would think you like eating pussy."

Your eyes catch hers, dark and fiery, staring down at you. You want to tell her you do like it, you'd dreamed of it, wanted to do it so many times before but never had the chance. The most you'd ever done with a woman involved gentle kisses and light touches - thrilling at the time, but nothing compared to being between another woman's thighs. You don't dare take your mouth off of her to tell her any of it, so you moan again mumble a mhm into her, bringing your other hand to her thigh to grip as you do.

You let your grip anchor you down, slow your movements. The few times a man had bothered doing this to you, their rapid sloppy movements felt good, but not enough. Of all the times you'd gotten yourself off, you needed precision and repetition to get there, and now that you'd had a taste and indulged your own desires, you wanted to give Tess what she wanted, what you'd agreed to. You wanted to make her come.

Your fingers stroke at her pussy, and you bring your mouth back to her clit, licking and sucking once again. Your circle it gently, all around and then gently spiralling in to the center. You stay there, keeping your tongue circling in small, soft, circles feeling as her thigh begins to quiver beneath your hand.

"That's it," she sighs, and you preen at the praise, moaning into her clit to let her know you'll keep going, won't stop until she says otherwise.

It's not long before her hand comes to your face, stroking your cheekbone. She pulls you back, unlatching you from her clit. Swallowing and licking your lips for remnants of her, you look up in confusion.

"Give me your fingers now, pretty girl. Put them in."

Oh. Right. Of course. You let go of her thigh and trace your fingers around her entrance, watching in amazement as you circle them in her wetness. Your body looked like this too, got wet just like she did. You tease at her opening for a moment, knowing how good it felt for yourself when you tickled yourself like this, before you slip one in just a fraction, wiggling it slightly as you tease her. A second finger joins the first, and you're soon pushing two small fingers into her cunt.

She feels different to you inside. You'd never even considered it, that any would feel anything other than like yours, but when you push your fingers into her, the ridges and smooth surfaces you were expecting aren't where you thought they'd be. The familiarity was there, but you didn't know hers like you knew yours.

Her eyes are closed again when you next look up, pumping your fingers slowly into her. You bring your face back down to her clit, keeping your eyes locked on her face as you latch back over the sensitive spot and suck. She gasps, her feet clamping down on your back even firmer pushing your face straight into her cunt. You start to lick at her, going back to soft circles around her clit as your fingers pump shallowly in her wet pussy.

You don't relent this time, and she doesn't drag you back. Instead, her hand finds its way to the back of your head, holding you in place as you suckle on her clit and finger her cunt in tandem, bringing her closer and closer to climax. The muscles inside her soon start to clench, her clit start to twitch in your mouth.

You're eager now, as if you weren't before, letting your circles on her clit become firmer as you moan wantonly into her folds. You're breathing deep through your nose, mouth engulfing her cunt, devouring her with each stroke of your tongue.

Her own moans are softer, less desperate, than your own. But then her hips start to rock into your mouth, and you know she's close. You don't change a thing, keeping the movement of your fingers and your tongue the same as she rocks against your mouth, using you to get herself off.

"Yes, yes, yes," she whispers through soft moans. "That's it, pretty girl. Good girl. Fuck, yes. Yes."

The pumping of your fingers gets impossible as her whole body stiffens, pussy gripping your fingers in tight spasms as she comes, hips gyrating into your face faster until her legs are clamping around your ears. You keep going, suckling at her clit with your fingers buried in her cunt until her hips are trying to move away from you, to get away from the oversensitivity brought on by your mouth.

"Ohh."

You pull back from her pussy, gasping for air, and looking up at her once again as your fingers still inside her. The furrow between her brows has relaxed, and even in the dull light of the room she looks beautiful, peaceful.

"Good job," she murmurs, patting the side of your cheek. She pulls your cream covered fingers out from inside her, pushing them toward your mouth. You slide them between your lips, cleaning off her cum as she watches. Just like the ones before it, you can't help the moan that falls from your lips as you taste her.

A moment later, she's lifting her legs up onto the table and motioning for you to move. You shuffle out from between them, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand as you try to ignore the throbbing of your own pussy. That was it then. You'd done it. Why were you disappointed it was over?

You stand and brush the dust off your knees with your dry hand as she pulls her pants back up and zips them up. You don't look at her, you don't want to be caught watching, so you trace the path of a dust mote dancing in a sunbeam that has broken through an old board on the window.

"Definitely a quick learner," she says, walking toward you. If she knows how wet eating her pussy had made you, she doesn't let on.

Her cheeks are flushed a deeper shade of pink than when she'd first dragged you in here. You briefly wonder if you walked out of here together, maybe people would know what you'd been up to. But, her soft face and relaxed features don't last long, and she slips the mask back on, brows furrowing at you as she moves the chair from under the door handle.

"Not that I think you'll tell anyone you had your face buried in someone's cunt, but if you do, your daddy will be going cold turkey. I don't do this, we clear? Even for pretty girls like you," she says, depositing a small bag of pills into your hand. "Now, get going."

You grip the bag in your damp fingers as you walk home, hoping it'll all be enough to get your father through another few weeks in the QZ.

It took a few days for your dad to get back on his feet again, but once he started there was no stopping him. He never asked you about the pills, and you never told him. It seemed both of you could be cagey when you wanted to be. You also knew that if he needed it, you'd go do it again in a heartbeat.

Collection day comes and goes, and he's strolling in the door, depositing a small container of pills onto your dining table as you pull together a meager dinner.

"Shame to see her go," he says with a soft smile, patting your shoulder in his usual greeting.

You stop in your tracks. "Who?" You'd lost a lot of people over the years, and it was never good news when it happened.

"Tess. She's stopping dealing with that side of the business," he says, pointing to the pills on the table. "Said she'd pass me over to her 'business associate'. I'm meeting with him next Thursday. Nothing should change, but we'll see how it goes."

"'Business associate'?"

He's already grabbed some food, stuffing it into his mouth in a big bite before he answers. "Joel Miller."

Fuck.

Tag List: given it's not the usual p-boy content I haven't tagged any of you this week.

follow @covetedfics and turn notifications on for updates on future work

#tess servopoulos x reader #tess servopoulos x f!reader #tess servopoulos x you #tess x reader #tess x f!reader #tlou smut #tlou fanfiction #fic: SWAT #coveted fics

141 notes · View notes

pettyprocrastination · 1 year

Note

Hi!! How are you?

I would also love to hear/read more about Tess x Joel x reader!! ❤️❤️

im great!! I hope you are doing well too darling <3

___________

For the longest time, you think Tess and Joel are married. It's an honest mistake, really. Seeing the way they work together like a well-oiled machine and have done so for years leads you to think there's more to their relationship.

Which there is. But neither of them will admit it.

Tess is easier to talk to. Not to say she isn't scary as well because christ, you know the things she's capable of and make sure to never short her on a trade or a cut of the profits, but its different. She speaks. Even as she's looking over the haul from your last run to make sure you aren't skimping her out, she talks to you. Little jokes injected into every few sentences while looking over stock, the occasional remark in awe of "you were able to find this?" that filled you with pride each time in that raspy voice that kept you up at night.

Joel is silent.

He sits in the room and watches. Rarely uttering a word unless its to shoot down an idea for your next run because "FEDRA is getting antsy, unless you want to be on the execution list tomorrow I suggest you wait a few days." or to raise his nose at the oddities you've collected.

Like a proper guard dog, he watches and waits for a command.

The first time you speak to him alone, without Tess, is when it happens.

You had just told him that you were planning another run for tomorrow after making connections with another smuggler who wanted to meet. But the location was at least a two days walk from the QZ.

"You can't possibly be that stupid."

"Excuse me?"

His eyes narrow and he leans in. On instinct you shrink back and curse at yourself for doing so.

"You plan on meetin' somebody you've never worked with before and never seen in person, alone because of what? Blind trust?"

"Because of profit."

He snorts. "Yeah well somethin' tells me 'mutual profit' isn't what he has in mind. The answer is no." Your face grows hot under his criticism, his patronizing fucking voice and that stupid southern accent to the point where you grab at his shoulder when he turns away from you.

"I wasn't asking for permission, man. I was telling you. Just make sure that your wife knows I'm-"

There.

His head snaps back as if you had slapped him, staring at you with in shock before his eyes narrow into slits.

"What did you just say?"

His voice rumbles a low, warning timbre that makes your hands begins to shake despite your intentions of looking strong.

"I said-" the room suddenly feels smaller. Corners all too tight and the door too far for your liking because its hitting you know that youre alone with him and just how many times Tess has sent this man out to break some bones on her accord without a second word of it.

"I said." Your throat tightens and you force the words out. "I said to tell your wife-"

"She isn't my wife."

Oh.

"Oh!"

Joel shakes his head. His face scrunches up and shoulders pull in, you realize then that he isn't angry.

He's uncomfortable.

"Oh, I uh. Didn't know." The floorboards groan beneath you as you shift your weight from one foot to the other. "I just assumed that-"

"Well we aren't, alright?" He holds out a hand to stop your further explanation but it does nothing to hide the red tint creeping up his neck and ears. "She's just my-"

His voice fails him as he struggles to find the words to properly explain just what Tess is to him and him to her. The silence becomes all too consuming as he makes a vague gesture in the air. Flitting his fingers and waving his hand up and down in a way that perfectly encapsulates just how fucking complicated it is.

"I understand."

The situation has gone from terrifying to awkward so fast you could have laughed as you now try to soothe the nerves of the same man you worried was ten seconds away from snapping your wrist like a twig. "It's none of my business, really. Just-" You turn on your heel and cringe.

You'd rather him just break your wrist, honestly.

"Let Tess know when I'm leaving for the run, okay?"

"Push it back a week and we'll join you."

Your hands freezes, hovering over the doorknob and you look over your shoulder. Joel stands behind you, face in his hands.

"I'm sorry?"

He takes a deep breathe and looks at you with tired eyes. "If you can contact your man and get him to push the meeting by a week, Tess and I will go with you, alright? You need to have somebody there with you in case something happens."

He takes a step forward, broad shoulders boxing you in and he leans over and opens the door for you.

"Besides, you're the only one in the QZ who specializes in weird shit." Joel pulls back sighs. "Tess wants to keep the connection."

You don't bother hiding your smile from him.

"I prefer the term oddities." "Yeah? Well, I prefer the term headaches. Now fuck off so I can go talk to her."

Joel watches your form dash down the hall and disappear from his sight. He pinches the bridge of his nose and groans. His thoughts wander to you, then Tess.

Then you and Tess.

"Fuckin' moron."

#ask #asks #wild child tag #tess servopoulos x you #joel miller x tess x reader #tess servopoulos x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller x tess servopoulos x reader #this is unedited dogshit I apologize but!!! i needed to strike something out when I had the drive and energy for it which turns out to be-#at 10:40 pm with my doggie asleep on my bed kicking me

320 notes · View notes

javier-pena · 1 year

Text

the overlook

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader x Tess Servopoulos

Word Count: 23.3k

Rating: Explicit

Summary: When you almost get killed, Joel and Tess are there to rescue you. They take you in and Joel nurses you back to health. When you discover that Joel and Tess are in a relationship, tension rises until it inevitably breaks.

Notes: Well, here it is, one and half months after I first mentioned it. As it turns out, I wrote a short novella about Joel and Tess and their little hideaway high up in the mountains that they suddenly have to share with someone else. HUGE thanks to Dani @joel-tess (which is a very fitting URL lmao) for spending two whole weeks reading this and leaving helpful comments and pointing out that I start half my sentences with 'but' and the other half with 'and'. I hope the end result is worthy of the show, at least I was trying to make this about love and what it means to love in a world that runs on hopelessness and hate.

***

Everything hurts. Every bone, every muscle, every movement, no matter how small. Are your eyes closed or open? Is it day or night? Those things lose all meaning in a world where you’re so close to death. You don’t even feel the clammy wetness of the snow because the ache in your side makes everything else seem less important.

A gurgling sound escapes your throat, and you stop breathing, just for a little while, but long enough for panic to kick in. Your body doesn’t want to die. It hasn’t accepted its fate yet, the one your mind has made peace with. The blood you cough up lands sticky on your lips and chin. There’s really no coming back from this. You don’t want to spend your last minutes on Earth fighting and struggling – you don’t want to die how you lived.

Now you start to feel the cold seeping in through your torn pants, making your legs numb. Or maybe that’s just what dying feels like. Maybe your body is shutting down, limb by limb. First your legs, then your arms, and soon all that will be left will be your brain, your thoughts, all the things you regret, all the things you should have done differently, all the chances you didn’t take. Just like your body that should accept your journey is coming to an end, you too should accept that you did the best you could in a world that has been trying to kill you from the start. Maybe you should be proud you’ve made it this far. There is no shame in dying in a cold, dark forest under the stars, no shame at all in accepting defeat when faced with an enemy that is so much stronger than you are.

Your eyes are open now, and you can see the dark outlines of the trees surrounding you, the darker, more solid shadows moving between the trunks. Maybe they’ve come back to gloat, or to finish the job. It doesn’t matter – why should you spend your last minutes worrying? Coughing, you turn your head to look up at the sky again, at the vastness above you. Yes, you never thought you would die here, today, but there are also worse ways to go, darker, more painful ones. Maybe you should be grateful you’re not dying in an abandoned warehouse, chained, gagged, discarded. You’re free, out in the open, able to breathe clean air, feel a gentle breeze on your cheeks. And you’re not alone, not with thousands of stars twinkling above you, and the forest whispering sweet nothings.

Your eyes are closed now, and you can feel yourself drift off. There is no more fight left in your body, no more struggle against the inevitable. You feel warm all over, as if someone is hugging you, refusing to let go. Surrendering is so simple, so easy. In death there are no more expectations, no reason to worry about snapping branches and heavy steps. All those things are irrelevant now – what matters is to let go. Once you’ve done that, you’ll be free. You already are free you realize with a burst of relief. Those heavy footfalls close to you, they don’t fill you with worry or dread or fear. It’s not even indifference that you’re feeling. You just feel nothing.

Nothing at all.

*******

Death is colder than you expected.

It’s a cold, harsh wind that cuts your face and burns your hand. All those stories about a bright light, about an engulfing warmth were lies. As were those about pain vanishing because you feel it burning, eating away at your side, even more intense than it was before. Or maybe there is a Hell after all, and instead of being filled with fire and brimstone and screams and horrors, it’s this – having to go on how you died, cold and in pain, unable to escape your mistakes and regrets.

Do you deserve to be in Hell? You’re not sure. Probably not any more or less than everyone else you know. Yes, you killed people, but who didn’t? At least you never killed without having a good reason. You didn’t lead an honest life, but no one could under these circumstances. Lying and cheating and manipulating was what kept you alive for all these years. If you hadn’t allowed yourself to make some mistakes, you would’ve died much sooner. But maybe that was the point – if you had stopped fighting, maybe there would be light and warmth waiting for you now.

Blood tickles the back of your throat but you’re too weak to cough. All you can do is lie there, the copper taste filling your mouth before you feel yourself drift off into unconsciousness. At least you’re allowed this short break. Maybe death isn’t so bad after all.

*******

Death smells like gasoline and disinfectant, it smells like burning trash and blood. That doesn’t surprise you now that you’ve made peace with never being embraced by that warm light. Death is also quiet, calm. No more rustling leaves, no more heavy steps – just silence. If the smell wasn’t so bad it made you retch, you would think you were back home, in your childhood bedroom, before the world was fucked up and you lost everything. Or maybe you have to experience it all over again, the loss, the pain, the heartbreak. Maybe that’s your punishment for killing and lying and cheating. It could be worse, you decide. It’s nothing you don’t know, nothing you can’t live with.

Watching your mother being executed by soldiers? You replay those few short seconds every day, and have been for 15 years. Reliving the pain of your brother beating you until you couldn’t get up? You forgave him for that a long time ago because he was right – you deserved it. Being gagged and bound so you couldn’t run off, unable to escape your father selling you to a group of men when you were barely 22? Back then, you thought it was the worst thing that could happen to you. You laugh. Life had so much worse in store for you.

All those memories can’t hurt you anymore, but there is just one … one day you don’t want to relive. Still, there is no sense in worrying about it now. You can submit to the guilt and self-hatred when you get there. And maybe you won’t. Maybe something else entirely is about to happen, something much worse than you could ever imagine. No one knows what happens after death, but you’re about to find out.

*******

The voices have been with you for quite some time, but you still can’t recognize them. You can’t be sure, but you don’t think you’ve heard them before. It’s odd – isn’t this supposed to be about your life, your memories? Maybe you could place them if you could understand what they were saying, but it’s impossible to make out. You’re fairly certain there are at least one man and one woman. Sometimes you can hear her laughing, sometimes she shouts and growls. His voice is always the same, a deep rumble, monotone.

It could be that you know them. You’ve met so many people over the course of your life, so many strangers, some of them good, some of them cold and cruel and dangerous. But if the man and the woman are significant to you, significant to learning one final lesson, then why don’t you recognize them? And why can’t you understand what they’re saying? What’s the point to it all?

When you realize you can open your eyes, it comes as a shock to you, and you immediately close them again. You don’t want to see because you don’t want to know where you are, but your left arm itches and burns, and you can’t move your right hand to feel out what the problem might be. You also can’t move your left arm or your legs for that matter. So, if you want to find out what’s going on, you’re going to have to open your eyes sooner or later.

You’re breathing too fast but you can’t help it. If this is death, then why are you so terrified? The worst thing that could happen to you has already happened. There is nothing worse, nothing more final than dying. Still, you pant like a rabbit caught in a trap, your heart fluttering inside your chest when you finally manage to force yourself to open your eyes. And you see nothing, just darkness, not entirely black but too dense to make out much except a lamp somewhere above your head, the lightbulb cold and dark. It could be worse.

Even with your breathing still too fast and your heart still fighting with everything it has, you manage to turn your head to the left. You can make out an IV bag next to the surface you’re lying on, its line leading to your arm, buried in the crook of it. You groan, and try to lift your right hand again to free yourself but you can’t. You can’t and you don’t know why and the room is spinning and spinning and … you realize.

You’re tied down.

You can feel the coarse leather against your skin now, against both wrists and around your ankles. This can’t be death – it’s too much like life, too much like what you’re used to. A disappointed sob forces its way out of your chest, followed by a dry heave. Not only did you fail to escape, you ended up in a worse situation than before. Panic grips you, cold and hard, and you don’t hear yourself screaming but you must have because a door bangs open and the voices are in the room with you now.

You lose consciousness … you don’t want to know.

*******

You dream of a mountain stream, cold and clear. You dream of the ocean, of waves rolling in, quietly at first, then louder and louder. You dream of birds in the sky, of your gun in your hand. You dream of red sunrises, of fire burning flesh, of the iron taste of blood.

You dream of her.

You don’t want to dream of her, so you wake yourself up. But the only thing that awaits you is the horror of still being alive, of still being trapped in a windowless room, hooked up to an IV bag, tied down, with no idea about where you are, what time it is, and what they want from you. And you wish you had died in that forest under the stars, so the snow could have covered your body, and you would have been forgotten. But you’re refused that one final kindness, even now, when you have nothing left to lose.

There are sounds outside the locked door – it’s bound to be locked, isn’t it? You can’t get up and check, but there is no point anyway. You’ve been confronted with enough locked doors in your life to know better than to expect anything else. The sounds are loud, metallic, like someone is working on something, destroying it. You don’t hear voices anymore, you don’t hear the man or the woman, you don’t know if it’s one of them out there or someone else entirely. And it’s probably best that you don’t. The sooner you find answers to those questions you’re chewing on, the sooner you’ll be in danger again.

The sounds stop and your entire body tenses. You try to move but you can’t – all you get as a reward is a sharp pain in your left side, right where the bullet hit you. But it’s much softer compared to the pain you felt lying in the snow. It doesn’t take up so much of your mental capacity now and you can breathe through it. Almost as if someone tended to the wound and it’s healing. But before you can ponder that possibility you hear a key being turned in the lock of your door and it swings open, bringing a beam of light with it.

You don’t want to see, so you close your eyes, pretend you are still asleep. It won’t save you, it never has before, but it might buy you some time, prolong the inevitable for a little while longer. But your breathing is too fast, your body is too tense – you’re not fooling anyone.

You hear footsteps that sound heavy against the hard floor. One pair of boots, so at least you’ll only have to deal with one of them for now. Not that you can deal with anyone in the condition you’re in, but it’s still a small consolation.

“I know you’re awake.” A deep voice. A man’s voice.

You don’t move. He doesn’t know shit.

He sighs, moves closer to the bed you’re lying on, but he doesn’t touch you, doesn’t hit you. Instead, you feel an uncomfortable tug on your arm as he checks the IV. And that’s it. That’s all he does. Soon, you hear his footsteps receding, moving back toward the door. And you risk one glance at him before he shuts it behind himself.

You should focus on the gun and knife strapped to his side, on the fact that you could easily grab them from your position if you weren’t tied down. Instead, all you can see is his profile, mostly hidden in shadow, his strong jaw and big nose, his furrowed brow. And despite all your instincts, despite everything you had to learn the hard way, you want to believe he’s not planning on hurting you.

What a foolish thought to have.

*******

The next time you wake up, the restraints on your ankles and wrists are gone. You notice it immediately because you’re curled up on your side in a tight ball, hugging yourself. But once you realize that, you shoot upright, pulling the needle from your arm with the quick movement. Before you can jump out of the bed, you feel a yank and a metallic clang puts you back in your place. Yes, the leather is gone, but you’re still handcuffed to the bed. You’re only able to move more as long as you’re not planning on getting up.

“Sleep well?”

It takes everything in you not to scream. You’ve been alone in this room for so long, waking up alone for so long, you weren’t expecting someone else to be there with you. And that’s on you – you really should know better after living like this for 15 years.

The room is still dark, except for a lamp right next to your bed that’s bright enough to let you guess the dimensions of the space you’re in. Outside the circle of light, just beyond what you can comfortably see, the man who checked up on you … hours ago – maybe days ago – sits on a chair, leaned back, legs spread, arms crossed over his chest. Today, you can’t pretend you’re still asleep.

“Who are you?” Your voice is hoarse from screaming, it’s hoarse because you’re parched.

He nods at you. “Drink.”

You take your eyes off him for a second to see there’s a glass of water on a small table next to the bed. You don’t touch it.

He sighs and runs his fingers through his hair. “It’s not poisoned if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“Who are you?”

Would knowing really help you? Probably not. But it would give you back some control. It would make you feel like you were more than a good he’s going to barter the first chance he gets.

“My name is Joel.” He looks at his hands when he says it, so you can’t see his eyes. You can’t know if he’s telling the truth, but there is no reason for him to lie. Joel. He could be anyone and no one, but he’s the man who’s currently holding you captive.

“Where am I? Why am I here?”

Joel sighs again. “I ain’t the one … I’m just supposed to make sure you don’t dehydrate. Drink.”

You shake your head.

“You almost died out there. Hell, you almost died in here, too. You need fluids.”

What he says makes sense. You were there, after all, lived through the whole thing. But this is after, and no one helps anyone after the world perishes, at least not out of the kindness of their hearts. The water is probably laced with drugs so he can put you under again. You know better than to expect anything from strangers. You knew better before, and you certainly know better after.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake.”

He pushes himself out of his chair, and you push yourself back so your head makes painful contact with the hard metal wall behind you. He doesn’t need to drug you for whatever it is he wants to do to you. You couldn’t defend yourself in the state you’re in, even if it was your life on the line. But he doesn’t touch you. He picks up the glass of water and takes one big gulp, spilling some of it down his chin and chest. The reverberating sound that comes with him putting it back down echoes around your head.

“There. Happy?”

He lets himself fall back into the chair and crosses his arms again. A few drops of water cling to his beard but he doesn’t wipe them away. He doesn’t do anything except stare at you.

You shouldn’t do it. Maybe he’s immune to whatever he put in your glass, maybe a small dose doesn’t have any effect on him. But you’re too thirsty to care. Your mouth is dry and sticky at the same time, and your throat aches for some relief, for some water.

The water is so cold the first sip sends a shiver down your spine and makes your teeth hurt. But after that it gets easier and easier and you drink it down faster and faster until there is nothing left and your empty stomach feels so full it hurts. He doesn’t say anything, just takes the empty glass from you and makes to leave.

“Hey,” you call after him. Hey, Joel, you want to say, but it feels too intimate. “Untie me?”

He doesn’t even shake his head before he closes and locks the door behind himself.

*******

The soup burns your lips and tongue, but you’re too greedy to pay much attention to the pain. It’s nothing special, just some roots and mushrooms, and a few pieces of lean meat, but it’s the best meal you’ve ever had. Joel watches you drink down the soup, one hand resting on his knee, the other hanging down, hovering close to the gun. He expects you to throw the soup in his face, and you can’t even be upset he thinks so little of you because you were considering it for a second.

“Be careful, it’s hot.” It’s too late for that warning, but he says it anyway.

“Do you think you’ll untie me today?” you ask, moving your bound wrist so the handcuff scrapes against the handle you’re tied to. You’re still in the same room, tied to the same hospital bed, but at least the IV is gone.

He smacks his lips. “Nope.”

“I won’t run,” you promise. “Honestly, Joel, where do you think I would go? You still won’t even tell me where I am.”

“You don’t need to be untied if you want to stay right here.” You’ve heard this a million times.

“Don’t you think it’s time you trusted me?”

He huffs. Sometimes he says, “You clearly don’t trust me,” sometimes he gets up and leaves. Today, he just quietly watches you as you drink your soup.

You know he doesn’t want to harm you. He had plenty of opportunities in the three weeks you’ve been living under his roof. That’s something else you know – three weeks. Two of those you spent drifting in and out of consciousness, hovering between life and death. One you spent trying to convince Joel to unlock the handcuffs.

The one thing you still don’t know is why you’re here. What does he want with you? Why is he keeping you alive? Why is he nursing you back to health? Sometimes you aren’t even sure if he knows the answers to those questions himself. But the stronger you get, the more you’re looking for answers. And the more you push him, the more he shuts down.

“Where am I, Joel?” You’ve asked him this so many times that the words have started to sound fake.

“You’re safe.” He replies, and as always, those words sound like a lie.

“If I’m safe, then why are you holding me captive?” Why am I still locked up? Why don’t you want to untie me? What’s behind that door? You’ve tried countless variations on that same question and he’s found countless ways to avoid answering them.

“Would you like some more soup?” He nods at your empty bowl.

Yes, you would, but you also want to get up and move about. Wordlessly, you hold out the bowl and he takes it from you, always careful not to come too close to you, so you can’t grab the knife or the gun. You tried, of course you did, and you failed miserably. You still have the bruise on your arm to prove it.

Joel walks through the door but leaves it open. He sometimes does that because there is nothing of interest to you to see beyond it. Just a table, and a calendar on the wall opposite. August 2003, and a picture of a golden-fronted woodpecker, a tiny red berry held gently in its open beak. Its eye looks red, too. You guess there must be a stove somewhere (or at least a gas cooker) or Joel wouldn’t be able to cook soup. But that’s it. You don’t know how many other rooms there are (if there are any), you don’t know how many other people there are (if there are any). Wasn’t there a woman here while you were fighting for your life? You can’t be sure. And asking Joel is useless – you’ve tried.

“Here.” You take the soup from him and he sits back down to watch you as before. “Be careful, it’s hot.” You’re trapped in a loop.

“Why do you always do that?” you ask, holding the bowl in your hands, letting it warm your cold fingers. “Why do you always watch me eat?”

A puff is your only answer.

“Scared I’m going to whittle a key from a few pieces of boiled potatoes and a sprig of rosemary?” you tease.

“I have my orders,” he answers as if that settles the matter.

You know better than to ask him whose orders they are. This conversation is giving you a headache. So you try a different approach. “What’s your favorite kind of soup, Joel?”

The corners of his mouth twitch like he’s about to smile, but he gains back control immediately. “Any soup that’s warm and keeps me alive.”

You roll your eyes. “Oh, come on, what’s the real answer?”

You don’t think you’re going to get an answer since he just looks at you for the longest time. You’re used to it, to his brown eyes on you, assessing you, trying to determine how dangerous you are. Only today it’s a different kind of gaze. He’s not looking for danger but something else. And eventually he finds it.

“Black bean soup,” he answers.

There’s already a witty remark on your tongue but before you can get it out, a siren goes off, loud and jarring, unlike anything you’ve heard in a while. Your body’s reaction to it is instantaneous. You drop your soup, fling it from you, so the bowl hits the ground, bursting, spilling the warm liquid everywhere. Joel doesn’t notice. He’s on his feet and halfway out the room at this point. You have no idea what’s going on, what the siren means, but you know you’ll be safe cowering in the room under your blanket. At least you hope you will be. Whatever is out there, whatever triggered the alarm … Joel is just one man. And isn’t this how it started last time? You thought you were safe too, but there were just too many, and they took whatever they wanted. This time, you’re not even strong enough to close off your mind. This time, you will surely die.

You hear no sounds from the other room, except the telltale click of a magazine being pushed into a rifle. You hear no sounds because you try to block out everything that comes afterwards …

When it’s all over, Joel cleans up the soup you spilled. You’ve lost all appetite, and he doesn’t push you to eat more. Joel smells metallic, like smoke. You don’t want to ask him what happened and he’s not going to tell you anyway. Instead, when he’s done, he softly closes the door to your room, leaving you alone in the darkness. He has things to do now, gruesome things, things you wouldn’t know how to help him with even if you weren’t injured. But you could tell from the tension in his shoulders and the cruel lines around his mouth that whoever tripped the alarm wasn’t infected.

And it never gets easier.

*******

You flinch. It still hurts whenever he changes the dressing, even though he’s so careful now. Joel wasn’t like that at first. The first time you were fully conscious during the procedure, you broke down crying because the pain was too much for you to bear. You definitely weren’t looking for comfort from him, but a kind word would have gone a long way. Instead, all you got was a, “Suck it up, you’ve been through worse.”

The more your wound heals and the more you recover, the more careful he handles you. Still, every time he undoes the bandage around your chest, it feels like he’s tearing the wound open again, as if all the scab your body formed around it is coming clean off. It doesn’t help that the wound is on your left side near your ribs, and you have to take your shirt off every time Joel cleans it. It leaves you exposed and uncomfortably on display. Every other man would have taken advantage of your situation by now, but not him. Maybe that makes you feel even more vulnerable.

“It looks good,” he tells you, examining the wound. He carefully touches the tender flesh around it with the coarse tip of his forefinger, sending an uncomfortable shudder down your spine. “No sign of infection. I think it might be time to take you off the antibiotics.”

“If you say so, doctor,” you say through gritted teeth.

He huffs, removing his finger. “Does it still hurt?”

“Of course it fucking does,” you snap.

He draws back, straightening his back. His face is a blank mask. “Was this your first time getting shot?”

“No,” you answer, protectively slinging an arm across your naked stomach, “but the first time I almost died from it.”

He raises an eyebrow. “It wasn’t just the wound.”

There’s no question in it, just an observation. And yes, he’s right, it wasn’t just the wound. It probably wasn’t life-threatening to begin with, but it’s none of his business when he doesn’t even want to tell you where you are and why you’re here. You know better than to open yourself up to a complete stranger who keeps you locked up. In the future, you need to be more careful. You can’t let him come any closer than he already has.

“Like you would know,” you say defensively.

The corner of his mouth twitches, and he flexes his fingers fast, balling them into a fist and releasing them.

“Come on, let’s get this over with,” you sigh impatiently.

Without another word, he gets back to work. He cleans the edges of the wound with some cold water, then he has you press a gauze pad against it while he ties the bandage around your torso again.

“A few more days and we can leave it open,” he tells you once he’s done.

“And then what?”

Is it going to be the same as always?

You glance at Joel, his furrowed brow, as he focuses on tying the bandage tight enough to hold but not tight enough so it will hurt you. He wouldn’t, would he? Hurt you? You shake your head. No, you’ve been there before. You put your trust in people before and it almost cost you your life, and it certainly cost you part of your soul. If anyone should ask, you still have the scars to prove it.

Once he’s done, Joel runs his fingers from the edge of the bandage down your naked side to your hip. It’s not a conscious movement, at least you don’t think it is, since his brown eyes are glazed over, almost empty. But it still pushes all your questions and doubts aside. Joel would hurt you if he could, there is no doubt about that. But he would also protect you, has already protected you. And that’s where the real danger lies waiting. It’s not hidden beneath cruelty and malice. It lies buried beneath care and attention. You either die for the people you love or you live long enough to lose them. And if they betray you, you can never really fully recover from that.

“That’s not up to me,” Joel answers, averting his gaze.

“Please,” you start.

“That’s enough.” His voice is harsh, the words meant as a shove, but all you feel is a pull deep in the pit of your stomach.

“Joel,” you try again, but he shakes his head and stands.

Usually, before he leaves, he tells you to get some rest or holler if you need anything. Today, he stomps out of the room, his boots heavy against the concrete floor, and you turn away from the door because you won’t sink so low as to call after him. But before you can make sense of the whirlwind of feelings holding you captive, before you have time to put your thoughts into order, you hear him return. He grabs your wrist, the one that’s tied to the bed, in a firm hold, one that makes you yelp in surprise.

“Joel, what …?” you try, wanting to get away from him and be closer at the same time.

Before your heart can decide if it wants to stop beating or spin out of control, you hear a metallic click and a weight falls off your wrist. You’re free! Your brain doesn’t have enough time to process that new piece of information before your fingers close around the handcuff and you raise it, bringing it down hard against Joel’s temple. He grunts in pain but you don’t pause – you’re sprinting toward the door as fast as you can after weeks of being tied to a bed. You have the element of surprise on your side because Joel doesn’t come after you, at least not right away. You’ve made your way to the room with the table before he has fully realized what is happening.

Your lungs and legs burn like they’re on fire and your head is spinning, screaming for you to slow down or you will collapse, but you ignore all the warning signs, desperately searching for an exit. There are two doors, one on your left and one on your right. They both look the same – dark green, dirty, paint chipped away, especially around the handles. It’s crazy how much your brain is able to take in and process whenever you’re in danger. But you don’t have time! You can’t linger and stare at the small kitchen corner, maybe even look for a knife you can use as a weapon when Joel finally does come after you. You don’t pick a firearm out of the crate right in front of you either because the rifles and guns probably aren’t loaded and you can’t afford to be slowed down by dead weight.

You make a decision in the spur of the moment, without any plan where you are, any idea about what kind of building you’re in. But you just know that the door on your right will lead you to freedom. And so you make for it, spurred on by the grunts behind you. Joel is in pursuit now, having recovered from the initial shock. If you want to get out of here, it’s now or never.

The door is unlocked. It’s not even particularly hard to push it open, not even for someone in such a weakened state as yourself. It just swings open, and you’re outside – just like that. You don’t see much: snowy mountains, a quiet forest, fences and barbed wire, two abandoned cars, a horse, its flanks steam in the cold winter air. You see your own breath too, and it almost makes you turn back. If you leave in your condition, face the winter without so much as a coat to keep you warm, you’ll be dead within a few hours. You certainly won’t make it through the night. But it’s a fate you can choose, something you can control now that you don’t feel like your own person anymore. And it’s preferable to dying tied to a bed in a dark room.

You run, stumbling like a fawn. If you push through the pain and the cold, if you ignore your cramping muscles, the jab in your side, the iron taste in your mouth, you should be able to climb over the fence. And then you can hide in the forest until it’s too dark for Joel to find you.

Something barrels into you, pushing you to the ground. You scream as your entire world erupts with pain. Lights flicker in front of your eyes, white and red, and your world tilts and spins. You’re so cold but your left side burns red hot. Did Joel shoot you?

“Fuck!” It’s the woman’s voice – you recognize her instantly. She’s the one you heard talking to Joel during those first few days when you had no way of knowing what was real and what wasn’t. She’s lying next to you, covered in snow, one hand firmly wrapped around your arm. “What the fuck is going on here?”

You’re being lifted up by a strong hand wrapped tightly around the collar of your shirt. A desperate gasp escapes you as Joel lifts you out of the snow. His eyes are bright with rage, his breath is a hot cloud between your faces, and it doesn’t look like he’s going to let go soon. If anything, his grip turns harder as he twists your collar in his hand.

“What are you doing?” the woman snaps at him.

“I untied her and she made a run for it.” His honesty surprises you, even if there are other issues right now you should focus on.

“Let go of her,” the woman orders, and there’s just a brief moment of hesitation. Then you’re dropped to the ground, crumpling into a heap in the snow.

The woman sighs and pushes herself to her feet. “Come on,” she hisses at you, pulling your arm. “Get up.”

You try to tear yourself loose, even if your entire body is screaming for you to stop fighting and give in. “No,” you grunt through gritted teeth. “Let me go.”

She laughs in your face. “And where do you want to go, sweetheart? Look around. You’re stuck here, whether you like it or not.”

You look around at her words but you only see the same trees and mountains you saw before, and you still feel like you’d rather die in the woods than live with this helplessness any longer.

“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me!” she groans. “Come on.” And with that she pulls you up like you weigh nothing and shoves you. “Get moving.”

You should probably put up a fight – if 15 years living in this world have taught you anything, it’s that the strong survive. It should feel like this situation has just gone from bad to worse, but there is something about the way Joel lowers his head as you walk past him that gives you pause. And you might be imagining it but the woman’s grip feels less hard. It’s not that you think they’re good people, but you’ve been here for more than three weeks and if they had wanted to hurt you, they’ve had plenty of opportunity so far.

*******

“Why am I here?” you ask. You’re sitting at the table, a steaming bowl of soup in front of you, a blanket wrapped around your shoulders. “What do you want from me?”

The woman, Tess, sits opposite you. In front of her on the table is a loaded gun. It’s as if she’s taunting you. You could reach for the gun, try to shoot her, but she’s faster than you and you’d be dead before you’re fully out of the chair. Joel leans against the door, arms crossed in front of his chest. Maybe his lack of trust hurts you, maybe it’s an uncomfortable pull near your heart, but you also can’t blame him. There is a bruise forming on his temple where you hit him with the handcuffs. You don’t even remember doing it.

“We don’t want anything from you,” Tess answers, and it’s just as unhelpful as Joel’s non-committal grunts.

“Then let me leave.”

Tess shakes her head. “No.” Before you can protest, she adds, “You still need some time to recover.”

“Why are you helping me?” The question is directed at Joel but he keeps quiet.

“You were almost killed, remember that?” It sounds almost like an accusation, the way Tess says it. “We found you and brought you here.”

“Why?” It baffles you. They must have an ulterior motive.

“Where I’m from, you don’t just leave people to bleed out in the snow.”

You laugh at that. “Where I’m from you do. Has it ever occurred to you there might be a reason why I was almost killed?”

“There’s always a reason,” Tess says with a nod. “No one can afford innocence.”

You look at her for the first time, really look. She might be around Joel’s age, but it’s not easy for you to tell. She has long, brown hair that is starting to gray, and wrinkles around her mouth and eyes. The look she gives you is cold, hard, but beneath all that there is something else – it’s as if she’s forcing herself to put up a front. Before, when you came in, she took off the heavy winter coat she was wearing. Now she sits opposite you, dressed in a dark sweater that is tattered along the edges. A second gun is strapped to her side with a leather shoulder holster. It looks new.

“And you don’t care about the reason at all?” you press. “Maybe I murdered ten FEDRA officers.”

“Those guys who were trying to kill you weren’t FEDRA.” Joel’s voice is deep, almost hoarse.

You definitely don’t want to talk about that so you change the subject. “If I’m that innocent, why not let me go?”

Tess just glares at you.

“Oh, come on,” you groan. “I’m grateful and all, but I really deserve some answers, don’t you think?”

“It’s the truth,” Tess says after a brief moment of contemplation. “We found you in the woods, we decided to look after you until you were better. You aren’t fully healed yet and we’d like you to stay with us until you have recovered.”

“And what do you want from me in return?”

Tess doesn’t look like she’s going to answer you, but Joel does. “We need a third person to look after the compound, at least until the end of winter. If you want to repay us, you’re more than welcome to stay and pull your weight until the snow melts.”

“For real?” you ask. He’s joking, surely.

Tess nods at Joel. “You’re clearly capable. And you’re strong. We could use someone like you.” She hesitates. “Especially since I can’t be around most of the time.”

You prick up your ears at that. She’s giving you more information than she needs to give you, vital information about one of their weak spots. She probably doesn’t trust you, not fully, but she trusts you enough.

You clench your jaw and nod. “All right, but you have to start answering my questions honestly.”

*******

You’re high up in the mountains, far away from whatever is left of civilization as you know it. No one comes up here – no humans and certainly no infected. It’s just Joel and Tess, at least during the winter. In summer, when the weather clears and the snow melts, they will go back to Boston. Until then, they’re in charge of a warehouse of ammo and guns. They are in charge of a stockroom full of food. And the people who put them in charge aren’t FEDRA.

Mostly, it’s just Joel up here. Tess leaves for weeks on end, travelling around the country on errands they don’t tell you about. Trust only goes so far. And when she comes back, she never stays for longer than a day or two. It’s their third winter up here, Joel’s third winter of being mostly on his own. They both don’t want to come next year, but they go where they’re sent. Tess also makes it clear that it’s best if the people in charge never find out about you staying here.

Here. It’s not home, not exactly, but it’s the safest you’ve felt in a long time. Joel and Tess call it the Overlook. The main building they kept you in, a warehouse where they keep the ammo, the stockroom, and a tower, tall and menacing, that they use as an outlook. Most days, you can’t see much up there. Winter is cold and gray in these parts, the clouds hang low almost every day or it’s snowing constantly. You haven’t seen the sun in weeks.

It’s not easy work what they expect of you. It’s back-breaking, skin-tearing kind of work, but it feels so good to be doing something. Especially now that you’re fully healed you focus on getting back your strength. Seeing the progress and noticing how much more your body can take with each passing day gives you a grim satisfaction. The first time Joel let you out of the house you couldn’t even make it to the fence and back without almost collapsing in the snow. Today, you’re outside, setting traps to catch rabbits, climbing trees, helping Joel skin and gut a deer he shot. And you don’t feel tired. You feel alive, driven by purpose.

Joel’s naked hands and wrists are covered in blood, his face is grim and set. It took you some time to learn that he’s not angry when he looks like this, but that he’s concentrating and you definitely shouldn’t interrupt him when his brow is furrowed like that. So you watch as he works, grunting with the strain of it, his knife quick and fast in his hands. There is no point in carrying a whole animal back to the Overlook; it’s better to carve out the parts you want to use here and now.

Joel has taught you so much in the time you’ve been with him. Sometimes you wonder how you were able to survive the first 15 years without him. And sometimes you wish you could stay with him into spring and all the way through summer and fall, even though both he and Tess made it clear that it’s not possible.

A crack cuts through the silence of the forest, as if something – or someone – close to you just stepped on a twig. Joel drops the knife so fast you almost don’t see it fall. The rifle is in his hands, he’s up on his feet, pointing it into the general direction the sound came from all before your hand has moved to the gun hanging at your side. Three birds take flight, their flapping wings almost as loud as the step you heard. But other than that, nothing moves in the snow-covered forest.

“Maybe it was just an animal,” you dare point out.

“Yeah, maybe,” Joel says through gritted teeth, still observing the trees and the spaces between them.

You know not to say anything more or give any advice until Joel has decided it’s safe to continue his task. You haven’t been living out here for years, you haven’t even been living outside high walls that much. It’s not your place to question Joel or any judgement he makes regarding safety. But, soon enough, he lowers his rifle and falls back onto his knees with a grunt. There is a lot of work left to do and it will get dark soon.

You watch as his knife glides under the deer’s skin, separating it from the meat and muscle beneath. A pungent smell fills the air around you and you wonder if you might be attracting other animals, like wolves. You hear them howling at night, higher up in the mountains, too far away to be of much concern. But the winter is hard and there isn’t much meat to spare. You’re an easy target for a pack of apex predators close to starvation.

Joel puts the knife down next to his knee and begins to pull, tearing away the deer’s skin with a sickening sound. And then, before you can offer Joel help to roll over the big carcass, something jumps Joel with a shout, pushing him to the ground. It all happens so fast you can’t shout a warning – you didn’t even see the assailant coming even though Joel told you to be on the lookout. Your surprised shout comes too late.

A man pushes Joel to the ground. You can’t make out his face, but it’s covered in a trimmed, black beard. Joel, taken by surprise, raises his hands to protect his face, but the man has a knife clasped in a fist, its blade gleaming in the afternoon light.

“Joel, watch out!” you shout, but there is nothing you can do.

The man brings down the knife in a slashing motion, cutting into the red skin on Joel’s wrist. Joel doesn’t scream – he doesn’t even grunt. Instead, as the man draws back for a second attack, Joel punches him so hard he rolls off and Joel can get to his feet. The man assumes a crouching position immediately, apparently unfazed by Joel’s punch. He’s hunching down low, the knife still in his hand, twirling the handle, trying to get a firm grip on it. Joel glares at him, calculating, his face masked in concentration.

You calculate too – how long would it take for Joel to grab the rifle and fire it? Too long. What about the knife? The attacker is squatting between him and the blade. Could you help him? You don’t dare to when you see Joel’s furrowed brow.

The man jumps in Joel’s direction and Joel manages to grab both his wrists and push, so he stumbles back again. With a sickening grin on his face, the man approaches a second time, slower, blade outstretched in front of him. Joel doesn’t take his eyes off the weapon for a second and it’s the first time you see him, that cold, calculating man who knows he has to kill to survive. Sure enough, the man attacks again, going for Joel’s stomach, an easy target since Joel opened his jacket when he was working on the deer. Joel jumps back two steps and the man stumbles. A death sentence.

Joel is on him in a split second, pushing him to the ground, not caring that his face comes dangerously close to the blade. The other man shouts out in surprise as Joel climbs on top of him, his teeth bared. He pins the man’s arms to the ground with his knees, the effort bringing an angry flush to his cheeks, then reaches over the man’s head to where his own knife is lying on the ground. That’s when you know it’s over. Joel buries the fingers of his left hand in the man’s long, straggly hair and pulls to expose his throat.

It’s just one slash. Just one quick move of Joel’s arm and the man stops kicking, struggling, fighting for his life. You don’t look away. You watch as warm blood spills onto the snow that’s now dirty with soil kicked up during the struggle. You watch bubbles of blood form on the man’s lips, hear his last gurgling breath. You watch Joel hold him down, breathing hard, knife raised for a second cut if necessary. Joel’s eyes are empty.

“Let’s finish up here,” he grunts, pushing himself to his feet.

You want to apologize for having failed him, but you’re still too frozen to speak. Even though the whole altercation was shorter than a minute, you struggle with what you just witnessed. Not with the killing – you’ve seen enough of that and you know it was self-defense – but with the speed with which it all went down, with how quickly a life can be taken if you miscalculate and fuck with the wrong person.

“You’re bleeding.” It’s not much, but it’s something.

Joel looks down at his wrist as if he’s only just noticing the injury himself. “It’s okay,” he says, then kneels down and cuts a piece of cloth out of the man’s shirt to tie it around the cut. “Let’s finish up here before it gets dark.”

You nod, then watch him shove the man’s body away from the carcass. There’s nothing you can do to help him with the body or the deer, and you fight down a feeling of uselessness and helplessness. Now is neither the time nor the place to feel sorry for yourself. You can do that later in the privacy of your own room.

Joel finishes up fast, wraps the meat into old sheets he’s brought along, then stows them in his backpack. You get your own load to carry back to the Overlook. The trek back you spend in silence; Joel marches ahead with purpose, you follow, a queasy feeling in your stomach. What if the man wasn’t alone? What if his group is nearby, waiting for an opportunity to attack? Joel can fight off one attacker, maybe even two, but he’s wounded and exhausted from a day of hard work and you’ve proven today that you’re not much use in a fight. Luckily, there is no need for you to worry. You safely arrive back at the Overlook and breathe freely again once the gate shuts behind you.

“Here,” you say once Joel has locked the door to the main building. You’re standing behind a chair, offering Joel a seat. “Let me take a look at that cut.”

He nods and lets himself fall into the seat, the wood groaning beneath his weight. “There’s a first aid kit under the sink.”

You don’t tell him that you know – it’s best if he doesn’t realize how much you’ve been snooping around. So you get the first aid kit without a word and put it down next to the pot of steaming water you boiled while Joel was putting away the meat. Finding some clean towels or even just pieces of fabric wasn’t easy but you managed.

The cut isn’t long but deep, and it takes you a while to clean it. Joel doesn’t complain, but flinches from time to time when you use too much pressure. It will leave a scar but it isn’t his first and it won’t be his last. You don’t have any disinfectant since most of it expired years ago, but someone put a small bottle of clean, stinging alcohol in the kit and you use that to battle any possible infection. It’s the only time Joel hisses through gritted teeth.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t more vigilant,” you apologize while you’re bandaging the wrist. “You trusted me to keep a lookout and I failed you.”

“Yes, you did,” Joel agrees and even though you know you made a mistake it still stings to hear him confirm it. “Next time, don’t watch me. Keep your eyes on the forest.”

It’s only now, when he points it out, that you realize how much you must have been staring at him. Your face grows hot with shame and embarrassment. “It won’t happen again,” you promise, your eyes lowered, pretending to examine the bandage.

“It’s not just your fault,” Joel adds. “I should’ve been more careful after that twig snapped.”

His admission takes the sting out of it a little bit. “Is it hard to…” you trail off, struggling to find the words to the question that's on your mind.

You look at him for help, watch as a shadow clouds his features before seeing it pass and be replaced by disbelief. “You’ve never killed someone?”

“I have. Just… never like that, with a knife to their throat.”

“It ain’t different from using a gun,” he replies gruffly. “You end their life either way.”

Satisfied with your work on Joel’s arm, you let go of it, ignoring how empty your hands feel without the warmth of his skin against yours. “But you were so close to that man; you could watch him die, you saw him take his last breath, saw him slip away.”

“It was either him or me.” There’s a strain in Joel’s voice when he says it.

“It was him or us,” you correct him, not sure if that makes it better or worse. “I wouldn’t have been able to kill him on my own.”

“You’d be surprised how much you can do when your life is at stake,” he says with a cold laugh.

“Yeah,” you agree.

Then you both fall silent. It’s not until much later in the evening when you’re about to go to bed that he stops you with a hand on your arm, pulling you into the same chair you had him sit down in earlier.

“What happened to you?” he asks then. “Who were those men who were trying to kill you?”

You feel your body stiffen and your jaw tighten as you try to keep down the unpleasant memories of that night and of what came before. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Tough luck,” he growls. “It’s time you gave us some answers.”

The stab of jealousy you feel at his use of the word us is almost strong enough to defeat the rising panic. Almost. “Why?” you snap. “Because you saved my life today?”

“No.” Joel sits down in a chair opposite you so the table is between you. He fills two shot glasses with a cloudy, brown liquid and pushes one across the wood to you. “We trust you enough to let you stay. It’s time that trust was returned.”

You laugh coldly but wrap your fingers around the glass. “It’s not what you think.”

“How do you know what I’m thinking?” The confrontational tone has gone from his voice. He knows he has you.

You make one last attempt to get out of the situation. “I wouldn’t even know where to begin.”

“The beginning is usually a good start.” You expect him to be smirking at you, but he isn’t. There isn’t even much expectation in his gaze. He knows you’re not leaving the table until you’ve given him some answers.

“Well,” you sigh, giving in. “The beginning is always Outbreak Day, isn’t it?”

He shrugs.

“I was luckier than most,” you go on. “I only lost my mother in the days afterwards. She was shot by soldiers because she was coughing. Back then, no one really knew what symptoms people displayed before turning, so they got rid of everyone who was sick one way or another. At least where I’m from.”

“And where’s that?” Joel asks.

“Montana,” you reply, fighting to keep down the memories of your mother crumbling to the ground, gunfire ringing out around you, the sound of it almost shattering your skull. Then you were screaming. And all your father did was tell you to move along. Even now, you’re still screaming sometimes when you dream about that day. “We lived in a small, rural community, but the military found everyone. At first, we thought we were safe. You heard rumors about the cities, but in my town, no one even turned until the second day.”

Joel has a curious look on his face now. “How old were you?”

“20,” you reply. “No, 21. It’s not that easy to keep track of time.” You shoot him an apologetic smile. “I was engaged to a guy from my town, we were supposed to take over my parents’ farm.”

“Is he still alive?”

You shrug. “I have no idea. I got rid of the engagement ring a long time ago.” You take a steadying breath. “After that, my dad and my brother and I went to live in the mountains. There were some vacation rentals up there we moved into with a small community of other survivors. We probably would have survived up there for years if my brother …” Tears prick behind your eyes. No, you’re not going to cry, not yet. This isn’t even the worst part.

“He died?” Joel guesses.

You shake your head. “We lived there for about half a year. I … I started seeing someone. I’m not proud of giving up on my fiancé that easily, but during those times … it really made you realize how short life is, and I wasn’t going to say no when Steve approached me. He was a few years older than me. He lived in Seattle but was visiting his parents when it happened. I kept the relationship secret from my family for the longest time but my brother eventually found out. And he was furious.” Your voice breaks on that last word and you swallow.

For the first time there is something like understanding in Joel’s face.

“My fiancé was his best friend in high school,” you go on. “By seeing Steve, I wasn’t only betraying him, I was also betraying my brother. And my father was on his side.” A cold laugh escapes you. “Maybe I deserved what happened afterwards. Maybe I should’ve waited a year before seeing someone new. Maybe I should’ve been honest with my dad and brother. But I also think that no matter what, they would’ve found a way to punish me.”

You’ve told this story once before, and the person you told it to was full of sympathy, interrupting you constantly, cursing your family for the way they treated you. Joel is quiet. He’s not trying to lead you or push you, he waits for you to tell him the story in your own time and on your own terms. It’s a change, but not an unwelcome one.

“My brother beat me until I could barely walk,” you say next. “I can’t be sure but I think my dad told him to. He was too calm and calculating when he did it for it to have come out of rage. They didn’t dare touch Steve, but they made sure we never saw each other again. There was this group our community traded with sometimes. I thought they were FEDRA at first because they were dressed in military uniforms, wore tac vests, had assault rifles … Once I had gotten better, my dad bound me and sold me to them.”

You feel a grim satisfaction at the shadow that passes over Joel’s face. He’s not indifferent after all.

“I think I don’t need to tell you what happened next.” The truth is you can’t. “I spent the next 14 years escaping, living with different communities, even living in a QZ for a while, being caught, escaping again. As a woman, alone, this world is very hard to survive in. Those men who were trying to kill me when you found me … they were from a community who took me in after I lost the last group I was with. They were friendly enough at first. I was assigned kitchen duty which was fine by me. But then that evolved into having to dance at parties, and that evolved into offering my body to anyone who wanted me. It was far from the first time this was happening to me. But then they forced me to sleep with the leader of that group, a violent man who had just killed a little girl the day before because she had spilled some wine onto his pants and … I couldn’t take it anymore. When he started beating me, I grabbed a knife and slashed his face. Then I ran.”

The silence that follows is unbearable. You know you’ve made mistakes in your life, but you haven’t even told Joel the worst part yet. Surely, he won’t throw you out based on what he knows.

“See?” Your laugh is hollow. “I told you it’s not what you think it is.”

“When we brought you in there were bruises on your legs,” he finally says. “There were cuts on your arms, scars and fresh ones. One of your eyes was swollen shut. I had a pretty good idea of what you’ve been through.”

It’s not much, but your breath catches in your throat nonetheless. He’s not judging you. He knows what you’ve been through, what you had to do to survive, and he accepts you for who you are.

You shrug. “Yeah. I hope that answers your question.”

Joel empties the glass in front of him with one big gulp. “It does put me at ease.”

You mirror him. “So, what about you? What’s your story?”

He bares his teeth at you. “That’s not how this works.”

“Oh, come on,” you groan.

He shakes his head. “It’s late, we have a lot to do tomorrow.”

“Will you tell me tomorrow then?” you press.

“No,” he answers. And that’s the end of it.

*******

It’s completely quiet in the middle of the night when you lie in bed and have nothing else to focus on than your thoughts. Joel is in the other room, the one off to the left side of the kitchen. Or maybe he isn’t. Maybe he left you all alone at the Overlook. You don’t hear another sound apart from your breathing, but you never do. Every night you wonder if he’s still going to be there in the morning, and every morning he is.

He’s still with you, even through the walls and closed doors between you. You spend every waking moment with him and in turn he haunts your dreams. Tonight though, sleep won’t come. Your mind is too preoccupied with the events of the day, too much in turmoil to settle down. Telling him your story brought back all kinds of memories, good as well as bad ones, things you can never get closure on. But no matter how hard you try to focus on the familiar pain, on the regret that is like an old friend to you, tonight your mind keeps wandering back to Joel in the woods, fighting for his life. He didn’t just kill so he could live, he killed to protect you too.

Your breathing gets heavy as you remember the look on his face, his flushed cheeks, the way he didn’t let anger or fear control him. He knew what needed to be done and he did it. You remember how he was straddling the man’s chest, pinning him down to immobilize him, gaining the upper hand even when the other had surprised him. You’ve never seen anyone kill like that. You’ve never felt so safe with anyone.

With a deep sigh you turn onto your back and stare up into the darkness. You can’t make out the ceiling but you know it’s there. Just as you can’t hear Joel but you know he’s just a room away – both thoughts comfort you. You try to focus on that comfort, try to preserve it, but the building tension between your legs demands your attention. Other memories start coming back. A few days ago, when Joel had been cleaning his rifle, his sleeves rolled up so they wouldn’t get in the way, his arms flexing with each movement. The way he didn’t complain when you cleaned his wound today. Last week when he had come back from moving crates around, drenched in sweat – the smell had been so prominent, had lingered for so long that you had to excuse yourself and go to bed early. And then today, restraining that man, killing him with one move, one cut.

Your fingers press against your clit through your underwear before you can stop yourself. Immediately, your entire body comes to life. You bite the back of your other hand to stifle a moan, but roll your hips up, chasing friction. It’s not like you haven’t thought about it before, like you haven’t thought about him before, but you’ve always managed to keep yourself under control. It’s too late for that now.

You move fast, kicking at your blanket, tearing your underwear off. Your knees fall open without the restraints, and you bury two fingers deep inside of you, clenching around them desperately. Is he that cool and collected when he fucks someone? Does he know what he wants and takes it? You like to think so. An image comes to you: you, spread out on his bed, maybe even on your stomach, and him thrusting into you without uttering a word. The only sound you can hear are his low grunts. You wish you could give him that, be there for him like that.

When you think about him gripping your hair to bend your back, to make you writhe and moan, the pressure between your legs becomes unbearable. You release your hand, sure your teeth left markings in the skin, and press your fingers against your clit. The moan of relief echoes around your quiet room. Working your fingers in and out of yourself and circling your clit, you can feel yourself rushing toward an orgasm, accompanied by an image of Joel above you, his broad shoulders caging you in, fucking into you, breaking out of the restraints he puts himself in. Your breathing becomes more ragged, louder, and that cautious part of your brain that’s been trained to be quiet for 15 years urges you to be more careful. But how can you when you think back to how easy it was for Joel to defend himself today? How easy it would be for him to take from you exactly what he wants, what he needs.

You turn your head to the side, determined to stifle a desperate moan against your pillow, but before you can take any precautions, the tension that’s been building inside of you snaps; you come hard, working your fingers inside as deep as they will go. You don’t mean to voice your deepest desires, but you can’t stop yourself.

“Fuck, Joel! Yes!”

It hangs there in the thick air afterwards, your desires no longer a secret, at least not in front of yourself.

*******

Tess returns two days later, and that door you’d been opening further and further with Joel falls shut again. Or maybe you’re using Tess’s appearance as an excuse to distance yourself from Joel.

He didn’t hear you that night, you’re sure of it; he doesn’t look at you differently, he doesn’t treat you differently. But something has changed and it’s your fault. Even though you slept better than you had in years after that night, you can’t help but feel ashamed, too. You’re more careful around him now, awkward at times, scared he’ll take one look at you and know. Joel doesn’t look at you the same way you do at him.

So when Tess comes back and Joel spends time with her, bringing her up to speed on things at the Overlook, you can’t be entirely sure it’s them shutting you out or you’re withdrawing. It’s so easy to blame them. It’s so easy to feel resentment when they go out together, even when they try to sell it to you as leaving you in charge. It’s so easy to fall asleep with your stomach tied into a knot because they both go to the other room at night. That’s also partly your fault. After all, they have to share a bedroom because they gave the other one to you. But it’s still easier to tell yourself they’re excluding you on purpose instead of analyzing why you come up with excuses every time Joel asks you to help him with something.

On Tess’s third morning at the Overlook, she offers to show you the top of the tower. It’s a clear day, sunny and bitingly cold. You’d be able to see for miles. And even though you’ve been here so many days you’ve lost count by now, you’ve never been up the tower. It’s not important to Joel and you never asked him. So you agree to Tess’s suggestion.

The climb to the top is hard, the steps are higher than what you’re used to, and you’re out of breath fast. Your wound, almost fully healed by now, starts acting up halfway up the tower, but you grit your teeth and push through. You’re not going to look weak in front of Tess. But once you reach the top, sweat is running down your face and back, and she makes you sit down on a crate.

“Not a lot of people push through on their first climb,” she tells you, leaning against the wall next to you. “Joel hates coming up here, says it’s because of his knees.”

“Shouldn’t someone be keeping watch though?” you ask, trying to hide how hard you’re breathing. “That’s what this place is supposed to be, isn’t it?”

Tess nods. “It was, at first. In the beginning, it was used by a group of people who were looking out for survivors. Then it was used as an outpost by FEDRA. But after a couple of years, everyone gave up on it. There are hardly any survivors left who haven’t settled down in a QZ or are tied to another group. And those who aren’t don’t want to be found.”

“Like Joel,” you mumble under your breath.

“Come on.” Tess pushes your shoulder. “Get up. Let me show you the view.”

You try not to let the awe you’re feeling show on your face, but Tess’s knowing smirk means you’re failing. “You can almost see the ocean from here!”

Tess laughs. “Not quite, but close enough.”

You��re so high up in the mountains that you are looking out over some of the nearer peaks at the forests and lakes beyond. The day is so clear you can see two or three smoke columns from other camps but they’re too far away to worry you. The brilliantly white snow and the endless blue sky are so bright you have to shield your eyes with your hand. Standing behind the glass at the top of the tower makes you feel truly free for the first time since that horrible night.

“This was here the entire time?” you ask, meaning it as a rhetorical question. “I could have seen this every day?”

“Most days the clouds hang too low to see much,” Tess answers. “But on days like these, coming up here makes you feel like you can fly.”

You tear your eyes away from the view before you and glance at her. There’s a wistful smile on her face, like she’s buried herself deep in a happy memory that is none of your business. This might be the first time you truly see her, the first time you look beyond her graying hair and the hardness in her eyes, the first time you look beyond the uneasy feeling you get when you see her and Joel together. The fact that she’s letting her guard down around you, even if it’s just for a few short moments, moves you. It’s more than Joel has given you so far. What you see is a woman who went through unspeakable things to stay alive, a woman who knows how to survive in a world where everything is out to get you, a woman who looks beyond the selfishness of most people. In that moment you’re sure that if her death meant she could keep Joel safe, she would welcome it with a smile on her face.

But then that jealousy comes back ten times stronger. And Tess closes up.

“Joel told me what happened to you,” she says without warning.

“He did what?” Jealousy is joined by a feeling of having been betrayed. It’s so sudden that you can’t stop the anger from bubbling up.

“Don’t be angry with him,” Tess sighs. “It’s part of the deal. What he knows, I know. Why do you think we’re still alive?”

“He didn’t tell me about that deal when he forced me to tell him,” you snap.

“Oh, don’t be naïve.” Her words feel like a slap. “We need to know who we’re taking in.”

“Yeah, well.” The anger burns bright red in your chest now. “Who says I was telling the truth? Who says anything about that story is true?”

Tess looks at you curiously, like a cat who is deciding if catching a bird high up on a branch is worth the effort. “Why would you make up a story like that?”

You can’t think of a single good reason.

“You have nothing to be ashamed of,” Tess goes on.

“Thanks,” you spit. “Don’t you think I know that?” You don’t, because it isn’t true.

“Joel and I, we … we can make sure you’re safe from now on. There are places …”

“I don’t need your charity.” You expect her to lose patience. For most people offering to help you, it doesn’t take more than this. Except she doesn’t. She looks at you like she understands, like she knows exactly what you’re going through, and the fact that she doesn’t pity you makes you bold.

“You’re right not to trust me. Joel and you … you don’t really know me. You have no idea what I’m capable of.”

“You survived 15 years of torture and abuse. You’re capable of a great many things.”

The fact that she sees you unnerves you. “I didn’t tell Joel the whole story, so don’t think you have me all figured out.”

“I know you didn’t.” She crosses her arms over her chest. “Joel, he … he’s not the best at understanding people. Not because the compassion isn’t there, but because he has his own shit to deal with. But I can see there’s something bothering you. It’s eating you up from the inside and if you don’t let it out, it’ll kill you.”

You laugh coldly. “Thanks, but I don’t need your advice on what’s killing me.”

“Tell me or don’t,” she says with a shrug. “But I promise you, whatever it is, it won’t leave this room.”

You want to believe her but you know you shouldn’t. You couldn’t trust people before Outbreak Day and you certainly can’t trust them now. “What about your deal with Joel?”

“I make the rules around here,” she answers with another shrug. “And if it’s something he doesn’t need to know, then he doesn’t need to know.”

You take a deep breath, then another one. She waits patiently while your mind is spinning, trying to decide whether you can trust her or not. Weren’t you just wishing for someone who always has your back, someone you can rely on? But maybe that’s the reason she let her guard down around you … she wants you to think you can trust her. And once she knows the full truth, she won’t hesitate to throw you out. No one can ever trust you again after what you did.

“I’m not trying to trick you.” It’s like Tess can read your mind. “I can see you’re in pain and I want to help you.”

You huff. “No one can.”

“Try me.” It sounds like she’s challenging you – and that’s exactly the push you needed.

“Everyone thinks they have to do such terrible things to survive, but then you ask them about it and it’s just, ‘Yeah, one time I stole this loaf of bread from this old man and kicked him,’ as if people weren’t doing that well before Outbreak Day. And I think … I think most people stay human, no matter what. They see all those horrible things, and pain and suffering and death, and manage to go on. Maybe it’s because they have people relying on them, maybe it’s because that’s just who they are. And I think that whatever you do, you should be forgiven if it’s for the right reasons. Even if you kill someone.”

“Who will judge if you did something for the right reasons?” Tess interjects. “At the end of the day, you only have to justify your actions in front of yourself.”

“Morals, I guess.” Your throat feels tight all of a sudden. “If you round up women and children for your soldiers to use as target practice, then you’re a bad person, apocalypse or not.”

“Not necessarily. If those soldiers gain skills to protect 10,000 more women and children, aren’t a few deaths justified?”

“That’s not the point … Okay, what if you get someone killed? Someone you were supposed to love? And they died because you weren’t there for them when they needed you the most?”

“You made a mistake. You decided to save yourself instead of dying to save someone else. That just makes you human.”

“What if … what if Joel sends you to the next town for some supplies, and you know it’s dangerous, and you ask him to come with you, and he says no, one person will be less suspicious. But you won’t stop pleading, and the only reason Joel doesn’t want to go is because he knows how dangerous it is and he thinks, ‘Better her than me’. So, to get you to go, he promises he’ll come for you if something bad happens. Only he doesn’t. Not when he hears you’ve been captured. Not when they parade you around, stripped naked, tied to a pickup. Not even when they offer the crowd a deal: his life for yours. He doesn’t even come to recover your broken body. He just leaves you there.”

You don’t realize you’ve started crying but Tess raises a hand and wipes the tears off your cheek. “I would forgive him,” she says. “Sometimes we do selfish things for selfish reasons. Sometimes we do them out of fear. Sometimes the enemy we’re faced with is so powerful we feel so helpless we can’t move. Joel didn’t force me to go into town – in the end, I went out of my own free will, knowing the risk.”

“But wouldn’t you hate him when he doesn’t come to save you, like he promised?”

“Sure,” she says with a weak smile, wiping your other cheek dry. “For a while, maybe. But I wouldn’t blame him. Maybe that’s something that’s unique to our relationship, I don’t know. We know exactly what we can ask of the other.”

You and Julia, you hadn’t known that. And you’ve been wondering – if your positions would have been reversed, would she have come for you? You doubt it. But still … for 15 years you wished that someone would come and save you, telling yourself you wouldn’t leave anyone behind. And the second you had to prove yourself, you got scared.

“But doesn’t that make me a bad person? Someone you shouldn’t trust? I shouldn’t get to choose who lives and who dies.”

Tess sighs. “I don’t think it’s that easy. You always have a choice, and choosing to save yourself over another person doesn’t necessarily make you evil. Sometimes the best thing we can do is look out for ourselves.”

“But you would’ve saved Joel, right?”

That makes Tess laugh. “Of course I would have. But not because I think it would make me a good person, but because I don’t see how I could go on if he’s dead.” She says it like it’s the easiest, most natural thing in the entire world. “Maybe I got it wrong, too. Maybe I should close myself off more, think more about myself. Maybe I would live longer if I did. But that’s my choice. And I choose to stick with him, no matter what.”

It makes sense what she’s saying. If you had known Julia better, if you had loved her, maybe it would have been easy to follow her into death. But you were basically strangers who had known each other for a couple of months. You also wouldn’t ask Joel and Tess to rescue you. The only thing is … they already did, and you were a stranger to them.

“How do you know what people are worth dying for?” you ask her, feeling dumb. It makes you sound like a child.

“You never know. Not until it happens. I’ve heard stories about people who, before everything, thought they were strong protectors, who’d lead their families through every storm life sent their way. And then they bolted at the first sign of danger.”

“Not you and Joel though.”

“Believe me, we’ve made mistakes too.” She gives you a grim smile. “I’ve done things I’m not proud of, things I deserve to die for, probably. But I’ve also done good things, like helping you. You have to find a balance.”

You nod, feeling hot tears run down your cheeks again. That you’re still here unnerves you. Tess should have chased you away; at least that’s what you were expecting her to do. Instead, she opens her arms and pulls you into a hug. You immediately press into her and sling your arms around her shoulders. Maybe you don’t deserve her kindness, but it’s her choice to look after you, and you won’t push her away for it. For the first time in a long time, you feel the burden grow lighter and your heart beat a little freer.

*******

That night, you can’t find sleep. The conversation with Tess is still on your mind. It opened some barely healed wounds you let fester over the last few months, and now the burning is keeping you awake. If Tess is able to see beyond your mistakes, you should be able to do that too. But Julia’s screams still come to you every time you close your eyes. No matter what Tess says, you don’t believe she has done anything equally as bad as this.

There is something about Tess that unnerves you, something you can’t quite put your finger on. She appears to be so strong, but in a different way than Joel, one that is harder to define. Still, the notion that she’s in charge around here makes you want to laugh. You’ve spent enough time with Joel to know how he runs things, and he would never take orders from anyone, not even Tess. It doesn't take away that you think Tess is very capable of doing the things she talked about. If worst comes to worst, she would die for Joel - so would you, but there's less conviction behind your resolution. It wouldn't be the first time you overestimated yourself.

Then again, Joel doesn’t need anyone to die for him, and it’s presumptuous of Tess to think he does. Julia would have needed someone willing to die for her, someone who wasn’t you. You could see it in her rounded shoulders, hear it in her pleading voice. But Joel is nothing like Julia. And Tess is nothing like you.

A stab of jealousy shoots through your body, not directed at Tess this time. You just wish you had someone like Joel in your life, someone you could rely on, someone you knew had your back. It would make dying for them so much easier. You realize that someone like Joel is very quickly turning into just Joel, and you have to confront the fact that your time here is limited, and that you’re not going to share that bond with him that Tess shares, because they will send you away as soon as the snow clears. It’s unfair. If it was just Joel, you could get him to let you stay, but Tess is so focused on her rules and the mission that she won’t make an exception. Not even if she liked you more. And right now, you don’t think Joel cares either way.

Jealousy turns into helplessness, and helplessness opens your eyes wide, making you stare at the dark ceiling. It’s late, it’s cold, you should be asleep by now, but your throat is dry and itchy, and swallowing is painful. What you need is a glass of water. You kick off the covers and stand up, your naked feet hitting the ice-cold floor with a loud slap. You shiver and sling your arms around yourself, careful to avoid the bullet hole in your side. It’s just a few seconds and you’ll be back under the warm covers.

Quickly, you make your way to the kitchen, only pausing briefly by the door to make sure Joel and Tess already went to bed. You don’t really feel like talking to either of them right now. But the kitchen is dark and deserted and no one stops you when you go straight for the water canister. You pour yourself a glass and gulp it down, then pour yourself another one to bring to your room. Your feet are ice cold now and you hurry back over to your door.

Only then you hear it – a faint moan or grunt, and a creaking sound, like someone is writhing in bed, possibly in pain. You’re wide awake now. Was the Overlook attacked while you were lying in bed, feeling sorry for yourself? Did someone break in? Is someone in the room with Joel and Tess? Carefully, you put your glass down on the kitchen table and make your way across the room to their door, trying to stay as quiet as possible. Your cold feet forgotten, you’re determined to find out what’s going on. If there’s someone in the house with you, you won’t run from danger again.

As soon as you’re in front of the door, you hear the moan again, but now you’re less certain it’s one of pain. A different kind of panic grips you, one that is not connected to any danger but the sense that you shouldn’t be here. Then you hear a low grunt, deep and guttural, and you know it’s Joel. You know it is Joel and Tess, and they’re … You’re listening now, really listening, and you can hear all the subtle, repressed gasps, you can hear an urgent whisper, you can hear the sound of naked skin moving against naked skin.

Your face grows hot with shame and you stumble backward, indifferent to any noise you might be making. Let them know you know. They should, and they should apologize. The cocktail of emotions you’re feeling as you rush to your room is a dangerous one: jealousy, hurt, confusion. You feel so fucking stupid. Of course they’re sleeping together! How could you have been so blind? And yet, you still feel led on, like they were toying with you when they were just trying to be nice. This discovery is a slap in the face, a reminder of what you can never have. They both know how hurt and lonely you are and yet it has never crossed their minds to tell you just how deep their connection goes.

You refuse to cry. Joel didn’t mean to hurt you. He probably wasn’t keeping this from you on purpose. But Tess? Didn’t she say she’s making the rules? It was her decision not to tell you she and Joel are a couple, it was her decision to make you look like a fool. It’s so easy to focus all your anger on her because you really thought that by opening up to them, they would let you in, in turn. Instead, they are still keeping vital information from you, waiting for you to stumble across it.

At least Tess is leaving tomorrow. You might not get to have Joel the way you wanted to, you might feel embarrassed about your crush now, about how easily you opened up to him, but at least you won’t have to see Tess anymore. At least it’s just going to be you and Joel again. So it doesn’t really matter. It doesn’t really matter they’re fucking.

You don’t find sleep that night. Your thoughts are too loud, the weight of the world is too heavy. You can’t stop straining your ear, afraid you’ll hear them again. Hoping you’ll hear them again. Because once you’ve calmed down, once your anger has dissipated in part, you feel something else. The moans and grunts are playing on a loop in your head, and once they stop fueling your anger, they start fueling your desire. You don’t do anything about that pull low in your stomach, the pressure between your legs, but you also don’t try to distract yourself. And a part of you is angry with them for not telling you because it feels like they’re excluding you when all you want to do is join them.

****** The next morning, you stay in bed until you’re sure Tess has left. You don’t feel like seeing her, mostly because you have no idea how you would react to her. Joel is easier that way. He never makes you feel wanted or unwanted. The both of you just exist in the same space, working together quietly. It’s exactly what you need today. So once you come out of your room, you try not to look at Joel too closely. Is his hair more disheveled than usual? Do his cheeks look rosy? Are the bags under his eyes less heavy? Whatever, it doesn’t matter.

“Sleep well?” he asks as he puts down a mug of coffee in front of you.

“Yes,” you lie. “How about you?”

“Same,” he says with a shrug. Then he looks at you with raised eyebrows. “Did you leave a glass of water on the table yesterday?”

Hot panic grips you unexpectedly but you force yourself to keep breathing evenly. “I might have. I don’t remember. Why?”

“You shouldn’t do that,” he says, but it doesn’t feel like a rebuke, just a fact. “It can get cold at night; you don’t want the water to turn to ice. The glass could burst.”

“Okay, it won’t happen again.”

And just like that, the issue is resolved. Being with Joel is so much easier than being with Tess.

You spend the day tending to the horses and checking the fence for weak spots. Joel spends his cleaning his weapons and counting the supply in the storeroom. The sun is out again, and it feels warm against your cheeks, even making you sweat as the day moves toward noon. You might have a few short weeks left before spring is here, before Tess will force you to leave. And then you’ll be on your own again.

Joel joins you when you’re working on repairing a tear in the fence, his quick hands making short work of cutting the wire and reinforcing the hole. You want to watch him work, determined to make the most out of your last weeks with him. But today, you catch yourself glancing at the forest and the mountains frequently, almost as if you can’t bear to look at him.

Why don’t you stand up for me? you want to ask. But you don’t. You know the answer, and hearing him admit it would only hurt you – more than the unspoken question anyway. A tight knot in your stomach makes it hard for you to focus on the task at hand. It demands all your attention by chewing and clawing and spitting, like a wild animal trapped in a tiny space. Should you let it out? No, Joel isn’t the one to blame, he isn’t the one you should focus your anger on. Still, you can’t help but feel stupid, stupid and betrayed. It’s your own fault for thinking you had found someone in Joel who wants to keep you, someone who likes having you around, who trusts you enough to rely on you, to seek comfort when the nights are cold and lonely. Why did he keep his relationship with Tess a secret from you? You know the answer to that. Why does she have such a strong hold over him he does whatever she asks of him?

“You okay?” he grunts somewhere to your left.

You’re not. “Yes, sorry. I’m just thinking.”

He makes a sound between a sigh and a cough. “Pass me the pliers?”

You hand him the tool without looking at him. He can probably see it all on your face, and the last thing you want to do is talk about it. But you allow yourself to look at his hands, reddened from the cold, calloused from years of hard labor, swiftly working to repair something broken by harsh weather and time. And you can’t help but wonder what it would feel like to have those same hands roam across your body, worshipping every inch of it. The guilt of that fantasy almost drowns you, but it’s a familiar pain.

Without warning, a deep rumble fills the forest, shaking snow off sagging branches. Airplane is the first thing that comes to your mind, even though that’s impossible. There hasn’t been one of those landing or taking off in 15 years. To your right, you see a white cloud rise over the treetops, ice and snow glinting in the afternoon sun before swallowing the light with dusty gray fangs. You’ve never seen anything like it, and even though you’re far enough away from it to not feel threatened, it still makes you want to run and seek shelter.

“What is that?” you ask, pointing at the cloud.

“Avalanche,” Joel answers. “The warm weather softens the snow and it slides away.”

“Are we in danger?”

When Joel doesn’t answer immediately, you’re forced to turn and look at him. His brow is furrowed and his mouth is a thin, hard line. His hand is wrapped around the pliers, knuckles white.

“Are we?” you press.

“No,” he finally says, voice low with strain, “but Tess went that way this morning.”

******* It’s a long afternoon, the longest since you arrived at the Overlook. Joel wants to go out and look for Tess, you beg him not to. You’re not proud of the desperation in your voice, the way you fall to your knees when he refuses to listen, but you can’t bear the thought of being left alone in this place, waiting for hours or even days for some news, coming closer and closer to accepting a horrible, inevitable truth. If they’re both dead, you’ll die too.

Joel doesn’t listen to you, of course. He has a duty to fulfil, and you can’t resent him for it, even though you hate him for a short while. But then he’s gone and you’re all alone, and you’d do anything to get him back. You don’t think about what Tess’s death would mean for you, because you’re scared of what you might discover about yourself; you’re worried about her, but you’re not terrified like Joel. And what if she doesn’t come back? Wouldn’t your life stay the same, improve even?

When the sun sets, two figures approach the compound. You only notice because you’re outside with the horses, too nervous to sit cooped up in the kitchen where everything smells of stale smoke and him. Reaching for the gun in the holster at your side, you’re painfully aware of the vulnerable position you’re in, all alone, far away from anyone who could help you. But before you can take cover, you recognize Tess from the way she pushes her hair out of her face, and you recognize Joel by his gait, a slight limp. You barely manage to stifle a sob.

“The way is blocked,” Joel tells you once you’re back inside. He takes off his jacket and stows away his rifle. “We’ll have to wait for it to clear.”

You don’t really know what that means. Tess doesn’t say anything but slumps down in one of the chairs around the kitchen table.

“Are you okay?” you ask her, not sure if she’s hurt or just exhausted.

“I’m not,” she snaps. You flinch back. “This sets us back weeks.”

Joel puts a comforting hand on her shoulder and squeezes. She takes his hand and squeezes back. Your heart squeezes too.

“What do you mean, weeks?” you push. “Aren’t you going to leave tomorrow?”

“I’m not,” Tess answers, tension in her jaw. “Joel just told you we’ll have to wait until the snow melts.”

“The road is blocked,” Joel adds. “We’re cut off. We could try and go through the woods but …”

“… but we’d get lost,” Tess finishes for him.

“I’m sorry. I – I didn’t know,” you stammer. How long until the snow melts? You look between Joel and Tess, the unspoken question on the tip of your tongue. Tess can’t leave until the snow melts. You have to leave once it does. You’re never going to have Joel to yourself again. That sudden realization hits you like a wave of grief. So much unsaid. And with Tess there, you don’t stand a chance.

“Excuse me,” you mumble, throat tight. The door to your room closes with a loud bang behind you.

*******

The thing you dread most is the thing you desire most, too. It’s an impossible situation, one that makes you reel from its power. Giving in would be easiest. Avoid Tess (and avoid Joel, too), keep your head down, pray for spring to come. But a part of you wants to fight for a few last moments of happiness, for a chance to feel like you belong somewhere before having to face an uncertain future that holds nothing but death. Tess can have him for the rest of their lives. You just want him for an hour or so. But you’re immobilized, curled up under your blanket, fighting back tears. Why is it that whenever something good happens to you in this Godforsaken world, it gets taken away immediately? And why can’t you find anyone to blame? Not even Tess? You understand her, you feel for her, you would probably do the same if your positions were reversed, but why does she have to make everything so difficult with her probing questions and her cruel rules?

If the avalanche hadn’t happened, you’d be preparing dinner now. Joel would mend his clothes or peel potatoes or check the perimeter. And after a quiet meal, he’d talk to you. Or he’d offer you an old paperback to read. Or you’d challenge him to a game of cards. Instead, it’s Tess who’s preparing dinner tonight. It’s Tess who will lead the conversation, Tess who will command Joel’s attention. And it’s going to be like this until the day she’s making you leave. Should you submit to her? Spend the final weeks moping? Or should you try to make the best out of a terrible situation? Before your injury, you’d have picked the first option. Now you’re not so sure anymore.

Joel and Tess are both sitting around the dinner table when you finally come out of your room. There’s a pot of stew on the stove and three empty plates next to that, waiting to be filled. You sit down without a word, facing them, pretending the day hasn’t happened. You don’t yet know Joel and Tess are sleeping with each other. The avalanche hasn’t happened. You’re just as important, just as included as they are.

“I could’ve helped,” you say, nodding toward the stove.

“I thought it would be best to let you sleep,” Tess answers, running a finger along the edge of the table. “You looked exhausted earlier.”

You shrug. “I can still pull my weight.” Are you imagining it or is Joel smirking? “If anyone is exhausted, it’s you,” you go on. “That trek through the woods today …”

Now it’s Tess’s turn to shrug. “I’m used to much worse.”

“Let’s eat,” Joel decides and gets up. You watch him at the stove, stare at the broad shoulders hidden beneath a denim shirt. You’d give almost anything for a glimpse into his thoughts.

“Can I have some whiskey?” you ask when Joel puts down a plate in front of you.

Tess raises her eyebrows at him when he says, “Sure,” but doesn’t say anything. You weren’t supposed to know about the whiskey, were you? And yet Joel decided to share it with you.

“Thanks,” you say when you get a small glass full of golden liquid. “How about you, Tess? Would you like some?”

The corner of her mouth twitches like she’s trying not to smirk or bare her teeth at you. “Not tonight, thank you.”

You down the whole glass with one big gulp, then wait for Joel to join you at the table while a familiar warmth is spreading from your stomach to your limbs. You’d ask for another glass but that would be pushing it. The three of you eat silently, the only sounds the scraping of the spoons against the bowls. You keep your eyes fixed to your plate, counting down the pieces of meat and potatoes. Only five more to go. What will happen once you’re done? You should go back to your room. But there is something you need to know.

“Joel, can I ask you something?” You drop your spoon into your empty bowl loudly to make sure they’re both paying attention to you. Once Joel nods, you continue. “Once the snow melts and spring comes, do you also want me to leave?”

The way Tess’s cheeks turn red fills you with grim satisfaction. “It’s not a question of want -,” she starts, but you interrupt her.

“I asked Joel.”

Joel glances at Tess, then back at you. “Those are the rules,” he answers.

“Yeah, but whose rules?” you press. “You keep telling me you work for these people … I have no idea if you’re making it up or not. Maybe there is no group, maybe it’s just Tess who wants me to leave, and you’re playing along.”

Tess laughs. “You have no idea –”

“I’m talking to Joel, not you,” you interrupt her again.

“Oh, sweetheart, you have no idea what you’re talking about.” The tone in her voice makes the hairs on your arms stand up with a charge of anger that hits you out of nowhere. “We took you in, we let you stay, but that doesn’t mean you get to question how we run things around here.”

“Careful,” Joel says, but you’re not sure if he means you or her.

“No, maybe it’s my fault,” Tess goes on. “I didn’t think you’d need to know the details, but you clearly do, because you’re convinced it’s me who decides things around here. That isn’t true. And the sooner you get over your resentment for me, the better.”

You hate that she can read you so well, how she sees right through you. “Oh, don’t pretend you’re only following orders.”

“I’m not,” Tess replies, her voice calm and even. “I’m breaking rules by letting you stay here, rules that could get us punished if they ever found out you were here. And I’m not talking about a slap on the wrist, I’m talking about the fucking death penalty. I’m not sending you away because I can’t wait to see the back of you, I’m sending you away because the alternative is death.”

You don’t want to believe her. “Then why can’t I just join you?”

“The penalty isn’t for staying here,” Joel says quietly. “It’s for bringing you here.”

You snort. “Then why didn’t you leave me out there to die?”

Joel glances at Tess, but Tess is already answering you. “Is that really what you would have wanted us to do?”

“If it means saving yourself, then yes.” Your chest tightens as soon as you’ve said it. It’s what you would have done, not them. They risked everything, even death, to help a stranger whereas you couldn’t even be bothered to help a friend.

You expect Tess to use that against you, but she doesn’t. “We’ve done a lot for you, more than anyone else would have done. I think it’s not asking too much of you to respect the rules.”

“The same rules that keep changing every day?” you challenge.

“Our rules,” Joel interjects. His deep voice, a low rumble, makes you pause. “If we say you leave when spring comes, then you leave. No questions asked.”

“Can’t I stay with you? You can just say you met me in the woods on the way to wherever it is you’re going next.”

Joel and Tess exchange a glance that’s impossible for you to read. Is it pity? Shame? Regret? But they don’t give you an answer.

“Or is it because you don’t want me to come with you?” you go on, weighing each word carefully even though the whiskey is rushing through your veins, edging you on. “Is it because I’m a threat to that little thing going on between the two of you? Are you scared I’m going to take him away from you, Tess?”

Joel freezes. And when Tess jumps out of her chair, you do too, so quickly it falls over and hits the floor with a loud bang. You want to stand your ground, show Tess you’re not scared of her, that you mean the things you’re saying, but she’s coming toward you, her eyes dark with rage, and you can’t help but take a few steps backwards, even if it means you’ve lost this standoff before it even properly began.

The thing that hurts the most is that you can see it now, you can see why Joel would choose to follow this woman to the ends of the earth. The way she carries herself – shoulders back, chin held high – the way she doesn’t let her emotions get the better of her but is carefully calculating her next steps, the way she slightly raises her right hand to signal Joel to stand back, is making your knees grow weak. You’re scared of her, she could tear you apart without breaking a sweat, but that tight knot that’s been curled up in your stomach all day is beginning to sink lower as your blood heats up.

“You don’t know anything about me and Joel.” Tess takes two steps toward you, you take two steps back. “And you’re not that special.”

You want Joel to say something, tell Tess she’s wrong, tell her that you’re just as important to him as she is. He doesn’t, of course. He just looks at you from where he’s still sitting at the dinner table, like this doesn’t concern him. Then he looks back at Tess and crosses his arms over his chest. Tess notices how your gaze wanders over her shoulder, how you look hopeful and then lost, how you slowly have to face that you’re fighting a losing battle. When she steps closer again, you stand your ground.

“Do you want him to fuck you, is that it?” she asks, her voice so quiet it’s hardly louder than a whisper. She’s mocking you, taunting you.

Joel is out of his chair now. “Tess,” he starts, but she raises her hand and he shuts up.

“Let her answer.”

The urge to look at him is almost unbearable, almost enough to break you. But you keep your eyes on her, on her slightly parted lips, her red cheeks, her dark eyes. And it makes you surrender.

“Yes,” you answer with a nod. “Yes, I want him to fuck me. But I also want you to.” You catch yourself by surprise with that admission, but as soon as the words have left your mouth you know it’s true. You’re not jealous of Tess because she got to Joel first, you’re jealous of them both because they have each other.

Tess laughs hollowly, like she doesn’t believe you. A minute ago, you wouldn’t have believed yourself either. You were acting like a fool, and even though you’re hurt by her rejection, you can’t really blame her for it. She licks her lips, uncertainty in her eyes as she scans your face for any deceit, for any sign you’re making fun of her. Or at least that’s what it looks like to you. The longer she stares, the more it dawns on her that she won’t find anything there. You’re telling the truth.

Behind her, Joel hasn’t moved. He stands next to the table, his hands balled into fists at his side, watching the both of you, like he’s unsure of what to do. Should he put a stop to this? Should he wait and see where this is going?

“Tess,” he repeats, less urgent than last time. She doesn’t interrupt him again, so he goes on. “Let’s give her at least that.”

It’s all the confirmation you need, all the evidence to put your mind at ease. He has been talking to Tess about you, he has been trying to argue your case, and … he’s not opposed to what you’re suggesting, which leaves you with a quickened heart.

“How do you know she’ll do as she’s told?” Tess asks, her eyes still on you.

“I’m sure she will,” Joel says, and then his gaze lands on you, laden with heat and lust.

You’re there and yet you aren’t. They talk about you like you can’t hear them, discuss what to do with you as if it doesn’t concern you, and it makes your head spin. But the way Joel looks at you and the way Tess’s gaze glides over your body makes you feel seen, wanted. It’s a dangerous mix, one that puts you in the spotlight, leaves you open and vulnerable without a backup plan, without any idea how this is going to go and no way out.

You bite your lip and lower your gaze.

Tess smirks, her momentary insecurity gone. She reaches past you, and opens the door to Joel’s bedroom, the same door that was closed to you the previous night. “Go on then.”

A strange feeling comes over you, a feeling of being trapped, of being at their mercy. You shouldn’t turn your back on them, you shouldn’t let them out of your sight. Joel, tall and dark in the middle of the kitchen licks his lips; Tess nods at you, a challenge in her gaze. She still doesn’t believe you, doesn’t think this is what you truly want. Adrenaline rushes through your bloodstream, makes your heart pound and your hands grow cold. You can’t wait to prove her wrong.

You walk backwards into the dark room, keeping your eyes on them. You’re not entirely sure how you got to this moment, what switch was flipped, what happened to put you at their mercy like this, but you’re convinced this is the natural conclusion to weeks of uncertainties and conflicting feelings, of wanting to run and stay put at the same time. You can’t have Joel without Tess, and you can’t have Tess without Joel, and from the way your body reacts to that realization, you know you don’t want to have it any other way. All the tension that’s been building over weeks and weeks is slowly fading away.

Joel and Tess follow you, leaving the door to the kitchen open. A small strip of fluorescent light is illuminating the bedroom, too weak for you to make out many details, but you don’t need to. The only thing that matters right now are the two people in front of you, the way they keep pushing you further into the dark without touching you. You’re not sure what happens next, if you’re supposed to do something or if they want you to follow their lead. And a very tiny but persistent part of you still isn’t sure if this is really happening or if they’re just toying with you.

But then your legs connect with the bed and you can’t go any further, so Tess catches up with you. She reaches for your wrist, grabs it hard, and twists until you’re forced to turn around, arm pinned to your back. Your breath comes in hot pants as you’re trying to evaluate the situation. The only problem you’re faced with is that your brain has stopped working at all and you’re unable to form a single thought trapped by her like this. She pulls you close so your back is pressing against her chest and she starts undoing your pants with nimble fingers.

“You’ll do as you’re told,” she whispers into your ear while she works. “If you don’t want to do something, you say stop, loud and clear. You’ll answer when spoken to. Is that understood?”

You try hard to make sense of her words but you’re overwhelmed. This is so different from what you’re used to – no one ever takes into consideration what you want. And right now, all you want is to be touched, that’s all you can think about. The only response you manage is a tight nod.

Tess only tightens her grip, making you gasp, and pushes a hand into your pants, palming you. “I’m going to have to hear you say it.”

Are you imagining it or is there a strain in her voice, a note of desperation?

You grab her wrist to hold her in place and roll your hips, her fingers brushing against your clothed clit. If she wasn’t holding you up, you would crumble in her arms. “Yes, I understand,” you manage.

One of Tess’s fingers presses upwards through your underwear, and you’re sure she can feel how soaked you are, but instead of feeling embarrassed, you feel a strange sense of purpose and liberation. You want her to know. You want her to want you just as much as you want her.

“Good,” she says, letting go of you, and you stumble toward the bed.

It takes you a few seconds to catch your breath, to make sense of your whereabouts, of the desperate longing with which your body reacts to the loss. Your senses are heightened – you smell the stew you had for dinner, the stale air of the closed-off room, taste the cold on your tongue, feel the coarse material of your heavy winter pants scratch your legs. Behind you, you hear their voices, whispering intently, negotiating something you don’t need to be a part of. You lower your pants with trembling hands, step out of them while almost falling over, and then you turn around to face them, trying to keep your self-consciousness at bay, pretending you’re much bolder than you actually feel. You might not be involved in the deal they’re making, but you’re still its subject, and the least they can do is acknowledge you.

They’re standing closely together. Joel is facing you fully, Tess is partly turned toward him. Their faces are cast in shadow, almost unreadable, but they’re looking at you, there’s no doubt about that. You cross your arms over your chest in defiance, trying to copy some of Tess’s strength you saw earlier. They might not involve you in the negotiations, but nothing happens without you agreeing to it, and you don’t want them to forget that. Tess made sure you understood the rules and you won’t hesitate to use them to your advantage if you have to. You can’t tell if you returning their stares has any effect on them, but after a while they seem to be coming to some kind of understanding. They don’t say anything to you, they even stop talking to each other, but you’re the focus of attention again, at least the focus of Joel’s.

With just a few steps he’s in front of you, imposing, blocking your view of Tess and the light from the kitchen. It’s dark and intimate, the way he demands your attention, the way he becomes your focus, and your throat is suddenly dry. To make sure you have no other choice but to look at him, he catches your chin between his thumb and forefinger, holding your head in place. The sudden touch, soft yet determined, sends a jolt of pleasure through you that puts you even more on edge. And then he’s kissing you. It’s not romantic, nothing like the first kiss you shared with your fiancé, nothing like the first kisses that came afterwards. Joel isn’t gentle, he doesn’t give you time to get used to the feeling of his lips against yours, to his taste on your tongue. Instead, he takes and claims, making your knees weak and your core clench.

You kiss him back eagerly, pressing up against him, daring him to pull you close and make you his. You want more, more of his taste on your tongue, sharp and male, more of his body against yours, strong and so much more powerful, more of the way he bites your lip, your neck, with an urgency he can barely comprehend himself. Your hands find his belt buckle, but he slaps them away, then breaks off the kiss to pull your shirt over your head. He opens your bra next, quickly and without hesitation. You stand before him, almost naked, fully on display for him, while he is slightly out of breath but still finds his dignity intact.

His eyes roam your body, lingering on your naked chest for a while, scrutinizing your stomach, your thighs, and the flimsy excuse for underwear that leaves little to the imagination. Countless hours you spent wishing he would look at you like that and now that it’s coming true, you’re unsure of what to do with all of that attention, that calculation. You just know you want to rattle him like he’s rattling you.

“Like what you see?” you tease, your voice breathy from having been claimed by his kisses.

You get an honest answer, a hoarse, “Yes,” that makes your heart pick up speed. So much for rattling him.

With his big hand, Joel reaches up and cups one of your breasts. The sensation of his coarse skin against your much softer one makes you shudder, but you refuse to look away. Let him see what he does to you, let him know how much you’ve wanted this, ever since he killed that man in the woods for you. He massages your breast briefly, squeezes the nipple, rolls it between thumb and forefinger, catches your moan on his tongue. But before you can switch off your brain and surrender yourself fully to him, he grabs you and turns you around, just like Tess did earlier.

“On your knees.”

Joel says it through gritted teeth, like he’s barely able to hold back. You’re trembling so much with anticipation that climbing onto the bed is an almost impossible feat, one you should be proud of accomplishing in the end. Positioning yourself on all fours on the bed with Joel and Tess behind you leaves you in a vulnerable position, and the thrill of it makes you tremble even more. You lick your lips, chasing the taste Joel left in your mouth. From behind you comes the sound of him unbuckling his belt and your cunt clenches eagerly in anticipation when leather scrapes against metal. You grab the duvet under your hands hard, steadying yourself.

Nothing happens.

You wait for a few moments, but the room is quiet now. You don’t even dare to breathe, anticipating Joel’s next move. And then you hear it, the sound you heard the previous night – a deep, satisfied groan. Now that there is no door between you, it’s impossible for you to escape its pull.

You look over your shoulder to see Tess stroking him, twisting her fingers up and down his length. He is completely hard, visibly full and thick. His eyes are half closed and his head has fallen back somewhat, but Tess looks straight at you.

“Take off your underwear,” she orders.

You don’t immediately do as you’re told – you can’t. You’re transfixed by Joel’s dick, by how it dwarfs Tess’s hand in comparison, by how it twitches when she strokes across the glistening tip. He’s going to stretch you open, stretch you until it burns.

“Take off your underwear,” Tess repeats, her voice sharp with impatience.

Eager to follow her orders this time, scared she won’t let Joel fuck you if you don’t, you struggle briefly before returning to the same position, having discarded the last shred of clothing somewhere on the ground next to the bed. There is more movement behind you before Tess comes into view. Casually, she sits down on the edge of the bed so you’re facing her, so she’s facing Joel and you. She’s going to watch him fuck you. That realization is accompanied by a sudden rush of wetness between your legs.

Tess asks, “Is she ready?”

Suddenly, two of Joel’s fingers are between your legs, feeling for your arousal. Your eyes flutter shut and you moan deeply. “Yes,” he answers, his voice deep and husky, while he teases you, pushing the tip of his finger into you.

You let your head hang between your shoulders, already unable to catch your breath. If Tess reacts in any way, you have no way of knowing. Joel’s fingers leave you and are replaced by something much bigger, much more, something full and heavy pushing inside of you so slowly it feels like torture. You groan and whimper, moving so you’re resting on your lower arms and elbows instead of your hands while you still and try to accommodate him. The burn is definitely there, and it’s much more delicious than you had imagined. It’s not enough. You push back because you want more, but Joel immediately holds you in place by grabbing your hips, guiding himself into you with his other hand. When he’s fully sheathed, you’re stretched impossibly wide; it’s almost too much to handle and he hasn’t even started moving yet. He doesn’t give you a moment to adjust yourself, not even to catch your breath.

He pulls out almost all the way and pushes himself back into you hard. It’s enough to make your arms and legs tremble, and you bite your lip in an attempt to stifle a deep, desperate moan. It comes out as a sob anyway. With every thrust, the fabric of his jeans scrapes against the back of your thighs, a pleasant addition to the burn you already feel.

It doesn’t take long for Joel to pick up the pace. He does it with a rough grunt and you hear the sound of metal banging against metal when he does. He is still wearing his belt loosely around his hips, he’s still practically fully dressed. That image, even if it’s just a mental one for now, makes you crave more of him, more, more, more, and you push back again, meeting his thrusts. With a sharp slap, he places his other hand on your hip, holding you in place so he can fuck into you. You just have to take it.

“Please,” you want to whimper, but your voice is too weak. All you can do is hold onto the duvet.

“I want to see her face.”

You have almost forgotten that Tess is there, watching you getting fucked until you’re a desperate, whimpering mess. But Joel hasn’t forgotten. His fingers wrap around the hair at the back of your neck and he pulls roughly so your chin snaps up. It’s uncomfortable, the way he bends your back, the way your scalp screams for some relief, but it pushes you closer to the edge immediately. So does the look on Tess’s face.

She’s watching you, a hungry look in her eyes. Her mouth hangs slightly open and you can see her chest move as she takes deep, eager breaths. You’ve never been looked at like that. And she is looking at you, not Joel, you – straight into your eyes, watching pain and pleasure fight for dominance there. You’ve never had all that attention on you, and it awakens a desire deep within you that you hadn’t known was slumbering there. You want her to watch, to be unable to escape her gaze, be totally exposed to her.

And then you clench around Joel once, a second time, and before you know what’s happening, you’re coming. It catches you by surprise, makes your brain struggle to catch up with your body. Everything pulls taut and your mouth falls open in a silent scream. The flicker of triumph in Tess’s eyes is what finally makes you let go and you give in to pleasure, letting Joel fuck you through it. It’s violently intense, being stretched around him, clamping down, trying to hold him in place.

Until it’s all too much.

You reach back for him, tears stinging in your eyes, but he just lets go of your hair and grabs your wrist. With impossible strength he twists your arm onto your back and continues to fuck you with the same sharp, punishing pace as before, spurred on by your cunt fluttering desperately around him. All you can do is hold on, completely overstimulated. You let your head fall back down again, you let Joel take what he needs, and when he finally spills inside of you, you’re rewarded with a deep groan, and his hold on you tightening. It kindles another flame inside of you, that feeling of his hot pleasure dripping out of you when he pulls out. You need to feel it again, and soon. It doesn’t matter that his hands will leave bruises, that you’ll feel him between your legs for days. You’ve never known satisfaction like this.

Tess’s hand finds your cheek, soft and careful, and she coaxes you to lift your head. “Well done,” she says, and kisses you. “Lay down.”

You do as you’re told, only now realizing how stiff your arms and legs are, bathing in the afterglow of Tess’s praise. You also wouldn’t mind feeling this kind of satisfaction again.

For a short while, you allow yourself to rest, closing your eyes and sinking into the well-worn mattress. For the first time in weeks, all those confusing thoughts in your head are quiet and you can shut down. Curiosity quickly gets the better of you though, and when you open your eyes again, you find Tess standing next to Joel, running her fingers through his hair. She kisses him gently, almost carefully, and he closes his eyes and furrows his brow, getting lost in the moment. You can’t look away even though you probably should; this is their moment, not yours, but the intimacy of it has a pull that’s impossible to escape. It’s not just the intimacy between the two of them, it's also the fact that they know you’re here and are allowing you to become a part of this by letting you watch.

They’re still kissing when he starts to undress her, much slower than he undressed you, savoring every newly exposed bit of skin with gentle caresses. Your heart tightens at that sight, not because you’re jealous but because you understand. It’s not just about the quick release, the carnal act of it, it’s also about the intimacy, the giving, the ability to be vulnerable around each other. They’re offering you those same things.

Once Joel is done and Tess is completely naked, you’ve propped yourself up on your elbow, watching her with interest. She crawls into bed next to you, and from the smirk on her face you know it’s not because she wants to catch some rest. She lies down on your right side and takes your hand, placing it between her legs. She’s soaked. You can’t help it – your face heats up at that realization, at being caught off-guard by it. You hadn’t expected her to be affected by this at all, and proof of the opposite gives you a pleasant rush.

The same smirk is still on her face when she moves her hand between your legs. You whimper when she rolls your clit under her finger, still overstimulated, still too keyed up from earlier, but she kisses you gently and whispers, “Shhh, it’s okay,” against your lips. You try to relax, and it comes easy, giving yourself over to her gentle touch. She watches your reactions, making sure she gets it just right, and you’re content to let her explore, to let her discover how you want to be touched. Soon, you push your hips upward again, eager for more. Next to you, she moans and gasps softly as you continue to stroke her clit as best as you can while all the blood is rushing down from your brain. Still, the little sounds she makes are reward enough.

Then something shifts. You’re not sure what it is, whether it’s the hoarse moan that escapes you, whether it’s the way you make her shudder when you apply more pressure, whether it’s the way the mattress dips on Tess’s other side as Joel sits down on the bed. But her hand moves faster. She presses her fingers against you harder, and uses her free hand to grab your hair, tangling her fingers in the strands. You can’t move, completely at her mercy, and she uses that to her advantage to kiss you roughly, hungrily, all the gentleness replaced by carnal desire. You let her bite your lip, scrape her teeth along your neck, press into you hard, let her give you what she thinks you deserve.

When you come, it catches you by surprise. Your whole body tenses up before you erupt into desperate pants and moans, rolling your hips against her hand to chase as much friction as you can, pulsating so hard Tess can most likely feel it against her fingers. Instead of teasing you about it, she just growls, “Yeah, that’s it. Let go,” which makes you moan even louder. They both make it so easy to give yourself over to them, to trust them.

You’re still trembling when you open your eyes, you still twitch and pulse when you try to catch your breath. Swallowing hard, you try to calm yourself, but your head is spinning from one of the best orgasms you’ve ever had. A small part of you starts to feel embarrassed about how desperate you were, how much you let your guard down, and you find yourself unable to look at Tess, even when she continues to kiss your neck and shoulder, so you look at Joel instead.

He lies propped up on his elbow on Tess’s other side, watching you come undone under Tess’s skilled touch. His chest and neck are an angry red, almost a deep purple in the dim of the bedroom. He’s half-hard again, his cock hanging heavy between his legs. You clench one final time at the memory of him inside of you, and Tess finally removes her hand, falling back onto the mattress with a satisfied sigh.

Joel doesn’t let either one of you catch a break. He grabs the wrist of your hand that’s still between Tess’s legs and moves it lower, pushing two of your fingers into her. She clenches around you and groans, her eyes fluttering closed. The sound gets stuck in her throat when Joel presses his thumb against her clit and begins to move it in a lazy circle. You try to match the pace, pumping your fingers lazily in and out of her, glad for a chance to finally be the one who watches. You watch as Tess opens her eyes, watch as her gaze lands on Joel, watch as they get completely lost in the moment and in each other. They seem to be forgetting you’re there with them and you let them for a while before you decide to remind them.

You move lower and tentatively lick across Tess’s nipple before sucking it into your mouth. The small peak is hard against your tongue and you glow with pride and satisfaction when Tess arches her back and groans, digging her nails into your thigh. The sharp pain only spurs you on, eager to please, eager to make her forget herself like you forgot yourself when she was fucking you. You start to pump your fingers in and out of her faster, harder, and Joel, understanding, stops teasing her. Her eyes wide, her gaze still on Joel, she groans, “Joel, fuck. Please.”

The pull in the pit of your stomach at hearing her voice so raw and desperate makes you shift. Joel kisses her forehead to try to calm her, then raises his eyes and looks at you. “Fuck her.”

You do as you’re told, stifling a moan by teasing Tess’s nipple with your teeth, curling your fingers inside of her, putting all your strength into your thrusts. You’re rewarded with shallow breathing, and trembling limbs, and when she finally comes, she comes hard, holding your fingers inside of her with hard clenches. You’ve never felt anything like it, and the hunger for more is a sharp, burning sensation at the base of your spine. Will you ever be sated?

You collapse against her chest, your arm burning from the strain of keeping you propped up for so long, and Tess strokes your head with a trembling hand. Joel leans over her and kisses her cheek.

“You okay?” he asks softly, almost too quietly for you to hear.

She nods and swallows, the muscles in her neck twitching. Closing your eyes, you grant yourself a moment’s rest, listening to her slowing heartbeat, afraid that if you move, this moment might shatter into a million pieces.

After a while, Tess pulls on your arm and makes you roll over her, so you come to rest between her and Joel. She takes your hand into hers and places it at the base of Joel’s cock, now hard and heavy again. You blink a few times, still somewhat out of your body, floating around, not sure what is happening. All you can feel are Tess’s fingers wrapped around yours, and yours wrapped around him. But then she begins to guide you up and down his shaft. Slowly at first, making sure you’re able to take it all in, feel how hot he is, feel the little veins and soft skin, the way he twitches when she makes you tighten your grip. You only fully realize what is happening when he groans softly and screws his eyes closed. Then you know.

Tess shows you how to twist your hand on the upstroke to make him gasp, to make the sinews in his neck stand out, and then she lets go of you, putting you in charge. “He wanted this, you know,” she whispers into your ear, her voice low with pleasure. “He sometimes thinks about what your hand would feel like wrapped around his cock.”

You don’t care whether she’s making it up or not, her words make your core tighten, especially when he follows them with a groaned, “Tess,” that almost sounds like a warning. It doesn’t matter if it’s true or not, she lets you have the fantasy, and she lets you have the real thing too.

Then she adds, “I think he told me about it shortly after he heard you moan his name in the middle of the night.”

A sudden pang of embarrassment almost makes you let go, but Tess closes her fingers around yours again. “No, keep going.”

You feel the heat of Tess’s body at your back, the heat radiating off Joel’s chest, and you’re eager to comply. What does it matter now? They know how you feel about them and they don’t mind. After all, Joel came inside of you not even half an hour ago, and Tess came around your fingers, leaving little halfmoon marks in your thigh with her nails.

“I just didn’t think you’d like to be fucked by me, too,” Tess goes on, running her fingers along your thigh, teasing you, making you gasp and writhe.

“Faster,” Joel growls.

You don’t pick up the pace immediately – it’s not your call.

“Go on, it’s all right,” Tess grants. She kisses your neck when you pick up speed, two soft pecks right behind your ear. “Good girl.”

It’s meant for you, so quiet only you can hear it, and it makes you abandon all restraint. You sneak a hand between your legs and touch yourself. Tess lets you.

“Can I kiss him?” you ask, unable to keep your eyes off Joel’s brown ones that appear almost black now, clouded with desire.

“Joel?” Tess asks.

Joel nods, his eyes wandering to your lips, his tongue darting out to lick his own. You roll over so you come to rest on your knees and lean forward, your fingers still circling your clit. He captures your lips, growls against them, pushes his tongue into your mouth hungrily. Behind you, Tess strokes the back of your thighs, teasing you, making you twitch and gasp and squeeze Joel’s cock until he growls. Without warning, Joel grips your hair and he comes, spilling all over your hand and his stomach in hot, white ropes. You come too, wet heat rushing down your thighs and onto Tess’s fingers.

Tess presses a kiss to your back and you hear her chuckle softly as she gets up to look for a clean piece of cloth. You fall down next to Joel, curled up on your side, watching him. He runs a finger through his cum, coats your lips with it – and then he leans forward to kiss you, to chase his own taste with his tongue.

When Tess comes back, Joel cleans you first and then himself before he makes you lie back down between them, facing Tess. The two of you kiss lazily, unhurried, while Joel strokes your back, running his fingers down your spine.

After a while, Tess kisses the top of your head, then tugs you in beneath her chin. “You’ll still have to leave when the snow thaws out.”

“When the snow thaws out,” you agree.

***

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller #joel miller x reader x tess servopoulos #joel miller x you x tess servopoulos #tess servopoulos x reader #tess servopoulos x you #tess servopoulos #the last of us fanfiction #pedro pascal character fanfiction #the overlook

319 notes · View notes

alloftheimagines · 1 year

Text

tess servopoulos | birthday

MASTERLIST | TAGLIST | KO-FI

words: 2.9k

warnings: 18+. minors dni.

smut with plot. fingering (reader receiving because we all know tess is a giver). hurt/comfort. apocalypse-induced depression, mentions of death, corpses, grief. reese's chocolate is consumed.

request: Can I request something for Tess?! Something domestic with hurt/comfort and I little bit of smut if you are comfortable with it, I just LOVE your writing and I know that you would do an amazing job 🥺.

You hate birthdays. There was a time, of course, when that wasn’t the case; a time when your family got together with gifts and cake and candles and songs, cameras flashing, barbecue smoking, sun setting over your garden so the banners you'd protested against glinted. But there is nothing to celebrate these days, least of all today. There are too many memories, too many ghosts following you wherever you go. Flashes of your first post-outbreak birthday, when your sister had tried so hard to find a cake that she’d been beaten for breaking curfew, and instead of a party you’d wiped blood from her face. Of course, that wasn’t the worst one. Not even close. The year after, she was gone and you were making your way from city to city alone, birthday all but forgotten until you’d arrived at a QZ and saw the date. Ever since, you’ve tried to ignore the passing of time, tried to avoid anything that reminds you of the person you were before all this began. It’s too painful.

Still, it’s impossible not to be swallowed by grief each year. Impossible not to pay attention to that burning emptiness in your chest that was once reserved for good things. Normal things. To top it off, your day was awful. You’re exhausted, nauseous, and debilitated by a pounding headache that came on amongst the heat and smoke of the day. A day spent piling bodies up like they weren’t once people. You’d come across a kid who’d looked just like your late niece, and suddenly you were battling anxiety. You still are, eight hours later. You sit now in your apartment with the lights off, paralysed on the couch because you don’t have the strength to get up and collapse onto your bed. You’re afraid that sleeping will only bring more memories, and you can’t handle any more.

It doesn’t surprise you much when the door opens, and you know without looking that the silhouette at the threshold is Tess. You close your eyes, dread seeping through you. You don’t usually let her see you like this, but since you spend most nights together these days, it's no longer easy to avoid her.

“Hey. Why are you sitting here in the dark?” She flicks on the only lamp in your apartment, standing between the kitchen and the living room. When she sees you, she pauses in her tracks. “Y’okay?”

“Hm-mmm.” It’s the best attempt at a lie you can offer, and it seems to satisfy her for just a moment as she kisses your forehead.

But then she frowns, her touch on your clenched jaw lingering as her scrutiny scorches your face. “Wanna try that again?”

“I’m just tired,” you say. “How’d the job go?” Considering she appears unscathed, you can only assume well. It’s another reason she’s here most nights; easier to sneak into your apartment after curfew than her own a couple blocks down.

“Fine. Good as can be expected.” She shrugs and sits down beside you, still unwilling to look away. After kicking off her shoes, she begins smoothing your hair off your face. Her touch is gentle, which once surprised you but now doesn’t.

Your breath hitches in your throat at the warmth it brings, even now. Instead of chasing all of your feelings away, though, it only intensifies them, and you find a lump building in your throat.

“Hey.” She takes your hand and kisses your knuckles. “Talk to me.”

You can only shake your head, closing your eyes in fear that your tears will leak out otherwise. You know she wouldn’t judge you, but it still makes you feel weak. Tess has always just carried on, never buckling under pain or exhaustion. You… You have more nights like this than you’d care to admit, usually brought on by the corpses you carry day in, day out, and the faces you mistake for others'. You’ve tried to find a different job, but you’re still relatively young and able, and that means you’re stuck in manual labour until your back gives out or you croak.

Tess sighs and pulls you into her chest, placing kisses into your dust-caked hair. “I know. Birthdays suck, right?”

You’re so surprised that the tears are staunched for a moment, and you pull away to glance up at her. “How’d you know?”

“Oh, c’mon. It’s on your ration card.”

Still, the fact she’d taken notice at all… well, for a moment, a flicker of something easier to cope with rushes through you.

“I got you a present,” she said, digging through her shirt pocket — and pulling out a pack of your favourite chocolate, Reese’s. “It may or may not be two years out of date, but it’ll have to do.”

“Tess…” You take the chocolate, relishing in the way the plastic packaging feels against your fingers. You haven’t seen chocolate in a hell of a long time, and the sight of the bright orange and the promise of peanut butter cups inside makes you want to cry. “How the hell did you get this?”

Tess shrugs. “I have my ways.”

You dare not ask what those might be, afraid of what and who she might have paid just to make you happy. Instead, you hug her, breathing in her musky night-air scent as your eyes begin to throb. You’re going to cry, and there’s absolutely nothing you can do to stop it.

“Thank you,” is all you can whisper shakily.

“Happy birthday, baby,” Tess replies, drawing circles at the nape of your neck. “D’you eat tonight?”

Warily, you shake your head. As happy as you are about the chocolate, you’re not sure you have the appetite for anything. Better you save it until you’ll really enjoy it.

“It was a hot day. You need something to keep you going.” She pats your thigh before getting up and searching your cupboards. There isn’t much; you’ve been getting by on shitty rations despite all your work, and Tess is usually the one to stock up on food with whatever she gets from smuggling. “What are you in the mood for?” she asks now. “Spaghetti? Mac ‘n’ cheese? We’ve still got that bread I picked up yesterday, too.”

You don’t know how to tell her that you don’t want any of it. That eating something from a tin, or even a stale loaf of bread, just makes you remember those burgers your dad used to burn on the barbecue, or the cake your sister made special. For one night, you just need to not exist. You need to turn the light off again and forget. But with Tess here, you can’t, and you can’t ask her to leave now. Not during curfew.

“I think maybe I’m just going to get an early night,” you decide on. “Is that okay?”

Tess turns from the cupboards, that same look of concern hardening her features again. She takes a moment before responding. “I hate it when you shut me out, y’know.”

Guilt eats at you, and you run a hand across your face — but you know it isn’t fair. Tess is honest, blunt even sometimes, but she holds her cards close to her chest too. “I don’t know what you want me to say.��

“I don’t know either. I’m just… I’m worried, and I want you to let me in. I mean, is this about me? Do you not… want me here right now? ‘Cos I can leave—”

“You can’t leave, Tess. It’s past curfew,” you snap.

“If you want me to fuckin’ go, I’ll go.” Her voice is suddenly hostile, and it takes a moment for realisation to dawn. She’s reading your behaviour as rejection, coldness.

God, it’s been a long time since you’ve had to think about how your actions impact the people closest to you, mostly because you haven’t let many people near. But Tess wormed her way in, first into your bed and then into your heart, and… shit, she brought you fucking Reese’s. She deserves better than to think this is her problem.

“That’s not what I want,” you say, voice cracking as you realise how true it is. As much as you’d like to sit in the darkness, she makes everything better. Easier. You don’t want her gone. Not ever. “It’s just hard. You know that. Sometimes I feel like I don’t have anything left of me by the end of the day, and today of all days…” You swallow as the first tear falls, knowing it won’t be the last. “I always want you here, but sometimes I don’t know how to be here with you.”

A wrinkle burrowed between her brows, and she stepped closer to you like a deer she was afraid to scare off. “That’s all you had to say. I just need to know what you’re thinking, feeling, y’know?”

“Okay,” you whisper.

She pulls you close again, this time not letting go. Your arms curl around her solid frame as her fingertips move across the length of your spine, up and down. You let your tears fall then, and they dampen Tess’s hair, her shoulder.

“You’re okay,” Tess soothes. “Tell me what I can do to help.”

“Can we turn the light off?”

“Of course.” She moves slowly to the lamp. “Where’d you wanna sit?”

You contemplate and decide to go across your apartment to your bed, climbing under the thin, moth-eaten sheets. The last thing you see is Tess’s kind face before the apartment is bathed in shadows again. She slips into a strip of moonlight to grab your chocolate from the couch and then joins you, her presence warming the cold bed.

“C’mere.” She holds her arm out, and you snuggle into her chest, lacing your legs between hers. With her arms around you, she peels the chocolate wrapper apart and takes out one of the peanut butter cups. “Have to eat chocolate on your birthday. It’s the law.”

You let out a subdued laugh and take the cup if only to please her. “You have the other one.”

“They’re yours. Save it for tomorrow.”

“You have to share chocolate on your birthday,” you deadpan. “It’s the law.”

Tess rolls her eyes but takes out the other cup, nibbling the corner before letting out a groan. “God, I’ve missed these things.”

The sweet, nutty smell reminds you of old memories. Theatres and picnics and long car journeys. “My sister ate so many of these that she threw up once,” you confess, smiling at the thought of her aggressive sweet tooth. “Outside the movie theatre, too, with everyone watching.”

Tess grins. “Yikes.”

“She still got another three packs on the way home.”

Her chuckle vibrates against you, and for a moment, things don’t feel so heavy. You’re able to think fondly of that time, rather than with bitterness and loss. You can think of your sister, miss her, and yet still somehow breathe. You take a ginger bite of chocolate and another wave of emotion hits you, but you stay upright in the force of it. You have Tess to hold onto.

“As good as I remember,” you admit.

Tess only hums, stroking your hair with her free hand.

“I’m sorry,” you continue, looking up at her. She has a fleck of peanut butter on her lips, and you use the pad of your thumb to wipe it away without really thinking about how intimate a gesture it is. “I know I seem cold and distant sometimes. It’s only because I’m trying not to break in front of you. We all have our shit, and you handle yours… so fucking well, Tess. I feel… guilty that I can’t always do the same. Like, if you can be okay, I should be, too.”

She lifts an eyebrow. “That’s the stupidest shit you’ve ever said.”

You snort through another mouthful of chocolate.

“I’m serious,” she insists. “I got why you’d close off on me before, when things were casual. But I’m not casual about this anymore. I need to know when you’re not okay. And for the record, the only reason I seem okay most of the time is because you make me feel okay. More than okay. I was so lost and empty before you. You reminded me how to live.” She wipes the tears from your face as you soak in the tender words.

“Well, shit,” is all you can murmur for a moment.

Another laugh burbles from Tess. “Yeah, shit.”

You shift against her to look at her properly, tracing the outline of her chin with sticky fingers. “I feel the same. Of course I do. You’re home to me now.”

Her smile falls slowly as her eyes glint, showing you all the things both of you are too afraid to say. It only occurs to you then, after twenty years of pain and suffering, that you’re allowed to feel something else. Something good. You want to, even. You lick your lips, putting down the chocolate to trace the outline of Tess’s stomach, right up to the swell of her breasts. Maybe you need the distraction. Maybe you just need to feel something other than fear. Maybe you need to show her just how much she means to you. Either way, your chest flutters and you adjust your legs between hers, moving higher until you feel the apex of her thighs against yours.

She knows what you need instantly and kisses you, roughly and softly, slowly yet hurried. She tastes like chocolate and peanut butter and she is rewriting your tragic little life, your loss and your grief, so that now Reese’s is this, her. So that now the taste isn’t bitter, but sweet.

“Let me take care of you tonight,” she says.

You can only nod, rolling over and arching your back as she begins to place delicate kisses down your neck, across your collarbone. It takes her eons to get to peel up your T-shirt and kiss your stomach, right down to the waistband of your trousers, but you bask in every moment because you know she’s trying to show you, too.

I love you, you want to say. I love you and it’s terrifying, because I could lose you. But you can’t, so you twine your fingers through her hair instead, pulling her back up to you to kiss her again. Feel her again.

“Please,” you plead, desperate for everything she can give. Anything to take you from the darkness.

Tess doesn’t need you to elaborate. She slips her hand under your waistband and presses gently on your clit, causing the heat in your belly to coil like a spring. Your breath hitches in your throat, and she swallows it with another kiss.

“I got you,” she’s whispering as she begins to circle that sensitive spot slowly. She sucks on your jaw, teeth nipping at your lobe as you arch into your pleasure. She draws your wetness up while sinking into your chest and caressing your breasts with her free hand, and you wish you’d had the forethought to take off your clothes. You’re in too deep now, too lost in the bliss to move an inch.

“Tess,” you breathe, hands tangling in the sheets as she slips a finger inside you, using her thumb to keep rolling across your clit. You buck your hips, and her eyes grow bright as she watches.

“Good girl. Take what you need from me.”

“You,” you say. “I need you. So much.” You’re no longer just talking about this, not even when she plunges a second finger into your sex and you gasp roughly. You begin to roll your hips, desperate for more. A tear slips down your cheek, this time not born from sadness, but something else. Something you can’t put a name to. You only know it consumes you in moments like this, when Tess is here, giving you everything, every piece of her.

“You’re so pretty like this,” Tess rasps, tugging your trousers down, down, until she can kiss your thighs. “So fucking perfect.”

You pinch your own nipple as you feel your climax build to bursting, moving faster, harder, against Tess’s fingers as they fill you up. Your walls clench against her when she nips at your skin. “I’m yours,” she’s saying. “I’m yours, baby.”

The words tip you over the edge, and you cry out, legs shaking, as you come hard around her fingers, whimpering her name over and over as you ride out the high. When your hips finally slow, you realise your cheeks are damp with more than just sweat, but you grow limp and lack the energy to wipe away your tears. Tess places a final kiss just above your clit, causing you to spasm again, before she returns to the pillow beside you. Her features are honey-soft, and she uses the back of her hand to dry your tears when she sees them.

“What is it?”

“Nothing,” you say softly. “Just…” It’s hard to say, but you force it out because you want to. Because you need her to know. “I’m yours, too, y’know. I…” You can’t, even now.

You don’t have to. Tess cuddles up to you, tracing the shape of your brows and looking at you like you might be the only source of sunlight in this endless night.

“I know,” she says, and you know she does. Know she must see it on your face, too. “I know. It doesn’t need to be said.”

Your lids are heavy, and you let them close as your breathing begins to even out.

“I do, too,” is the last thing you hear before you dose off. A confession, an answer, a lifeline.

Yours.

161 notes · View notes

annadoingshitpoorly · 1 year

Text

I’ll Hold Your Hands (They’re Just like Ice) - Tess Servopoulos x Sick! Reader

SOOOO... this is the first fic I’m actually posting on Tumblr in a lonnnnnng time, so if y’all have got any suggestions that would be great! IF YOU SEE SPELLING MISTAKES - SQUINT.

Word Count: 1.1K - She’s a lil shorty.

Minors, Men and Fuckheads dni 💚

(Tess is so hot, she has my little gay heart going pitter-patter.)

The Boston QZ wasn't the cleanest place in the world or what was left of it, and with the snow starting to cover more and more of the pavements it was only a matter of time before one of you got sick. The FEDRA agents had begun to pick up a bit of a trail Tess and Joel had been careless enough to leave, so you’d been picking up extra shifts shoveling snow off the roads to get enough cards to sustain the three of you while your partner and her right-hand man laid low. The winter gloves that you’d salvaged a couple years back from a strip mall just off I-95 while on a run out to Lincoln were threadbare but served you better than no protection from the bitter ice, the winter before having claimed many a toe or finger from those around you as frostbite set in, and your boots weren't much better. It was only a matter of time before you fell ill. And ill did you fall.

Coughing up your lungs, a fever that was practically cooking you from the inside out had left you bedridden. A large plastic bowl filled with water sat on the bedside table with a spare rag floating in it, a light sheet covered you as you lay sweating buckets while the itchy top quilt sat balled around your feet. Floating in and out of consciousness, mind fuzzy and body preoccupied with trying to beat the sickness, you don’t notice the hesitant opening of the bedroom door nor the soft footfall of Tess as she makes her way to you. A gentle hand comes to rest against your forehead and has you bolting up at the unexpected touch.

“Easy sweetheart, it’s jus’ me. Gotta check you’re not completely burning up…” Her voice is soft and gravely as she moves the damp cloth from your forehead and replaces it with the fresh one from the bowl, the cool wetness now coating your brow instantly provides you with great relief as Tess’ firm hands guide your body back down against the pillows. She fiddles around you, tucking the light sheets and heavy quilt taut against your near comatose frame, the tightness and the overwhelming heat from too many layers causes you to mumble under your breath, “...’s too much Tess…”

She just smiles and presses a chaste kiss to your lips before returning to full height, “You know as well as anyone that we need to break that fever, sweet cheeks.” You watch as she draws the moth-eaten curtains to block out as much light as possible before turning and heading out into the kitchen where you catch a slip of the broad shoulders of Joel sitting at the table hunched over as she closes the door gently behind herself. The large fluffy flakes of snow pelting against the window and swirling around outside the window mesmerize your slowed brain and lull you into a dreamless inky dark sleep.

A tentative weight being placed on the end of the mattress wakes you, rubbing sleep from your eyes your gaze meets Tess’, her looking at you with unfathomable worry. “Hey again, sleepyhead, how’s your head?”

“I-I,” your voice cracks from disuse, clearing your throat, you try again. “I’m fine, Tess, promise. Just a Lil bit sor-” A cough racks your lungs, forcing you up from your lying position, bent chest over legs as you struggle to catch your breath. Lithe arms wrap around you, pulling you straight and supporting your head on a bony shoulder as one hand moves soothingly up and down your spine and the other scratches deep into your scalp as air finally floods into your lungs. “That’s m’ girl, easy now, big breaths.” Tess’ soft encouragement falls on deaf ears as you breathe her in, split ends tickling your nose as they peek out from the bandana sitting across her head. The two of you sit there content in the comfortable silence, the sounds filling the room are soft breathing and the rustling of hair as Tess’ nails dig into your head, relieving the tension from your forehead and clearing the fog from your mind.

The peace is broken by a knock on the door.

“What ya want, Joel?” Her voice shaking you as her chest reverberates under your ear, and you’d slumped over asleep on her without realizing it.

“Soup’s done, tha’s all.”

“Come on sweetheart, lean up a little for me.” She positions you so that you’re sitting up flush against the headboard of the creaky old bed, arms by your sides. “Do you wanna come out to eat? Or will I bring it to you?” Bring what? Oh! Dinner…

“I don't know if I could eat, Tess…”

“I’ll bring it to ya, you’re gonna eat.”

Before you can argue she’s up and gone. All you can do is listen as she talks to Joel, you can’t make out her wording exactly but she’s concerned you can tell by the tone and the lack of anything but grunts of agreement on Joel’s part. The clattering of dishes and cutlery are the only indicators of what stage everything is at on the other side of the grubby chipped door.

The creaking of the door hinge pulls your attention away from the now-blizzarding snow outside the window. Tess holds a small bowl in one hand and a spoon in the other, she sits next to you on the bed.

“Tess… I’m not hung-”

“You’re eating, no arguing.” The order comes clear as day, and you obey. You always do. A small spoon dips into the mix of vegetables and broth, before the woman in front of you brings the spoon to your mouth. Gently placing it inside your mouth once it opens, the heat of the liquid warms you down to your toes. Tess repeats the same process, resting every once in a while until the bowl is empty and your stomach feels full.

“You’re gonna feel better after that, sweetheart. And if you don’t, I’ll eat my fuckin’ hat.” She sets the bowl on the bedside table before climbing into the bed next to you. Curling up into her side, head on her chest, the sound of her heart beating and the air entering and leaving her lungs lulls you over to sleep as she fixes the quilt around your shoulders.

As you sleep, belly full and sniffles diminished, Joel peeks his head round the door frame and looks to Tess, only to find her out for the count as well. A smile pulling at her lips and her brow unfurrowed, seemingly content with you in her arms.

#made this after seeing someone complain at the lack of tess x readers where joel isnt involved #tess servopoulos x reader #tess servopoulos x you #tlou x reader #tlou #sickfic #joel is there but isnt really involved #tess servopoulos #tess is mommy #tess x reader

128 notes · View notes

sarahsmileslikesarahd0esntcare · 9 months

Text

Tess TLOU NSFW Abc's

Warnings: 18+! Minors and Men DNI dom!tess x sub!reader, slight dubcon, smut obviously, sligh somno, oral and fingering (f receiving), scissoring, kinda public places, this is all lesbian sex from a lesbian virgin pls be kind, also some fluff cause i couldn't help myself

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

She would be so gentle afterwards like no matter if it was a rough session or soft and intimate she would hold you and stroke your skin, making sure you were grounded before she left to clean you up. If you two got really messy she would insist on taking a shower (together obviously) and she would scrub every discomfort from your body. If you were too tired to take a shower, she'd definitely clean you up, not just between your legs but your chest (she'd been busy there) and face too, making sure you're nice and clean and ready for bed.

What she'd want from you after sex though is physical contact. She feels like no matter how close you are to her, you're not close enough so you're always trapped against her afterwards. You don't mind though; you'd have to be crazy to mind

B= Body part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Her favourite part of her body is probably her face, more specifically, her eyes. She knows how much power they hold and she can control anyone with just a look. She uses her eyes on you often instead of her voice because she knows you'd do anything to please her and she loves seeing you struggle beneath her gaze.

Her favourite body part of yours has to be your tits. She grabs them any chance she gets and you pretty much have to peel yourself away from her. She acts tough, and she is, but she is whipped for you and needs to always have her own personal stressballs in her hands when it's just the two of you. She also loves to see them bounce and jiggle when you ride her thigh and you've noticed she purposefully bounces her legs so she can watch them more.

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically… I’m a disgusting person)

Tess is definitely a pleasure dom so, though she might like teasing and edging, she loves overstimulation the most. She'll eat you out for as long as she wants and you sometimes have to push her away because she gets so lost in the feeling of you cumming again and again against her mouth. If she fucks you with her fingers though, she'll keep them inside of you until you stop spasming from your last orgasm. Then, when you finally catch your breath, she'll press her fingers into your mouth so she can feel you instictively suck on them. And let's face it, that act alone turns you back on.

As for her, she has trouble giving control but she realizes that you still want her to control her when you're touching her so she'll have you on your knees, begging to taste her. When she finally gives you permission, she'll guide your head with the hand she has tangled in your hair. She gives you directions on how to please her: "higher, slide your tongue up and down just like that", "suck, baby, that's it. Fuck!" When you don't wait for permission and just dive in like you've been starved, she'll pull your hair back and say something like, "Wow you're such a desperate slut it's fucking pathetic" (making you want her more) or "Be patient sweetheart. You'll get to have a taste but you have to be a good girl for me, okay?" which just turns your brain to mush :(

(giggling kicking my feet)

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Before you got together, you'd go on runs together, sometimes going outside the QZ and she would purposefully get too close to you or "check on you" after you ran into infected just so she could feel your warmth and smell your aroma (which, despite the end of the world, always smelled slightly of vanilla). One time, she grabbed onto your waist on one of these runs saying it was because she thought your were about to fall but you had been flirting with her all day and she couldn't handle it. That night, she touched herself to that memory and came harder than she ever had, before you that is.

She has never told you this.

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

She has a lot of experience with sex since she'd had a few one night stands in her years in Boston, but she's not quite as experienced with intimacy. Your first time together you though she was fucking you so good you might actually die from the pleasure she was giving you. Her tongue was on your clit, licking and sucking, and her fingers were just teasing your entrance, waiting for persmission. It's when you practically whined at her that you needed her inside of you that she pushed two fingers in and had you cumming in a few minutes. Later on that night, she was surprised to find herself spooning you and kissing your neck as you both dozed off.

F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying.)

As I said before, your tits are her favourite part of your body so any postition in which she can see them is great. Her favourite position is when your on your back with a pillow or two under your hips and she can just fuck you into the matress (she traded a lot of cards for a black strap). She gets to see your chest and has a solid grip on your hips, making sure you don't go anywhere. Her favourite part of this position is that she has a perfect view of your pussy and she can see every little twitch. Plus it means easy access to your clit which she loves to abuse especially when she's deep in your cunt. She also noticed that, if she angles her hips right, she can see a bulge form in your belly and pressing on it makes you let out the cutest moans.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

I think she'd be more serious, knowing that you both get vulnerable in those moments and she'd never want you to associate those to anything but love. Sometimes she'll be rougher with you but most of the time she holds your hand while fucking you slowly, dragging out every moan and sigh out of you. She'll kiss up your neck and nibble on your ear as she whispers to you how much she loves you and how good you make her feel.

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

It's the apocalypse so don't expect anything to be smooth and hairless. She does, however keep it trimmed, especially when you've been more flirty towards her than usual because she knows you just need to be taken care of and she's more than happy to take care of you.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)

In the beginning of your relationship, she would show her love but would never say anything that might indicate how enamoured she was by you. When your relationship gets more serious though, she's repeating "I love you" like it's the only sentence she knows. She caresses your body, which she didn't really do before, because she's comfortable with you and wants to feel all of you, to memorize every inch of your body. Her mouth is also always on your skin one way or another. She kisses you deeply when her hand is rubbing languid circles on your clit, loving the feeling af your moans against her. If she's being to rough to kiss you she'll be sucking on the skin on your neck or chest, watching the marks blossom.

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

She can't go more than two days without fucking you but sometimes your schedules don't line up and you barely see each other for a week. So, one day she had the brilliant idea to record the two of you going at it (with your consent, of course), and she listens to it when she needs to get of. She keeps it in a locked drawer because she's the only one who gets to hear your sweet sounds (other than your neighbours, some nights, whoops).

One night, she came home early and heard you whimper. She hurried to the bedroom to see you on your back with a hand between your legs and the recording in the other. Luckily for, her your eyes were shut and she was stealthy enough to get between you thighs and start sucking on your clit. You were starteled but once you realized it was her, you had a long sleepless night filled with so much pleasure that the room smelled like sex for days.

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

Tess is absolutely a sucker for marking. She always makes sure that you have at least one hickey visible so eeveryone knows to stay the fuck away from you. She also leaves hidden marks on your chest and thighs, loving the fact that you always have something to remember her by when she's not around.

She's also into praising and degrading, sometimes all at once. The sounds you make when calls you her pretty little slut while her hand is between your legs almost make her pass out. She loves that her just her words can make you so weak. She's also a very patient woman so sometimes she'll praise or degrade you all day using the voice she uses for you only, loving the way you squirm.

I don't think she'd be into heavy impact play but I think she'd enjoy giving you a few slaps here and there, mostly to get your attention. For example, when she's eating you out and you close your eyes after she specifically tould you to keep them on her, she'll slap the outside of your thigh, turning your focus back to her.

L = Location (Favourite places to do the do)

If you have access to hot water, the shower is her favourite to fuck you. Her favourite thing to do is hold you up and abuse your pussy, knowing that she made you this weak and that you trust her enough to be so vulnerable towards her. The shower is her favourite place because she gets to pin you against the wall or glass and use you however she wants without worrying about the mess it'll leave on the floor. Plus, the best sight she can think of is you on your knees, face burried in her heat. The way the water trickles down into your face and you struggle to keep your eyes open but oh you want to keep them open because seeing Tess' face contort in pleasure is your favourite thing to see.

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

Your entire being turns her on but she's especially taken aback when she comes home to find you clean and smelling of... lavender? You must have gotten some soap from Frank. She finally sees you on the bed reading a book she recognized as the one you'd been trying to read for weeks now. She notices you're wearing a white tank top (without a bra) and baby pink shorts. Both of these look like you could have just gotten them off the rack of a store from how spotless they are. What turns her on is how innocent and clean you look and she has the urge to just ruin you. So she does. However, she makes sure the clothes stay perfect, and that's how you learn that Tess has a thing for corrupting you.

Now anytime you're really needy you just take a shower and wear the outfit that revealed her obsession with you. You also find out that giving her doe eyes turns her to jelly and using them makes her go feral. Whenever you look at her with those wide innocent eyes, she practically rips your bottoms off, not bothering with your top since fucking you half naked just turns her on more, and she licks or pounds the innocence out of you. She loves seeing you go from sweet little flower to messy fuck toy :(

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

She'll never do anything that could put you in danger like breath play or anything like that. You have asked her to choke you before and she got really concerned until you explained that you just wanted to feel the pressure of her hand around your neck and that it makes you feel her power and control. So she did try it hesitatingly one night and absolutely fell in love. She's still very careful about that though.

She wouldn't ever cut you or leave any permanent marks but that doesn't stop her from making empty threats.

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

She's been used to being the giver in any intimate relationship and, with you, she knows exactly where to slide her tongue and which places are most sensitive to her kisses. She was very satisfied with that (sometimes finding herself close to cumming in her jeans at the sounds you made) but then you started begging to tasste her too, saying you wanted to make her feel good. How could she say no to that? So you flipped her over, which she helped you with, and trailed open-mouthed kisses down her torso, taking off her pants and trying to drag that moment on forever. After a few minutes of teasing her through her panties, she tangled her hand in your hair and said, in her usually relaxed and honey voice, "Sweetheart, just a second ago you were begging to taste me now I suggest you get to it." she punctuated with a squeeze of her hand. When you finally did taste her, you were done for. everything you'd ever had on your tongue before could not compare to her. And the feeling of her against your mouth sent shocks to your clit. She now finds herself daydreaming of the next time she'll have you between her legs.

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

She's probably a mix of everything, liking to drag things out but hearing your broken moans when she reaches somewhere deep inside you makes her want to never take it easy on you again. So, she goes unbearably slowly, teasing you to no end, but goes rough enough that everything she does is pleasurable. This way she gets to see your face scrunch and hear your desperate whines at how good it feels for as long as she likes. That is until she decides she wants to see you cum over and over again. The she speeds up gradually so you don't realize that you're slowly getting closer and closer until she's telling you to cum for her.

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

She decidedly LOVES quickies. She loves the thrill of having somewhere to be, but being so desperate to have her hands on you that she makes everything wait for your pleasure. I imagine her being stressed about a job, especially with you there because she's so protective of you. And now the fucker you were supposed to meet is no where in sight and she's all tense, looking around sporadically. You try to calm her down by putting your hand in hers and giving her a light squeeze. She looks at you and you say, "It's gonna be okay bub." She realizes then how absolutely infatuated she is by you. After another quick look around she drags you to a dark corner where you couldn't be spotted. She'll still make sure you're ready for her, not wanting to make you numb, so she'll grope your thighs and ass while kissing you feverishly, swallowing up all your whines. She'll keep going despite your protests that someone will catch you. You'd be embarrassed, sure, but with Tess' reputation no one would dare make fun of you for it. So, knowing you don't actually want her to stop, she'd slide her hand down und unbutton your pants and shove her hand down your panties. Given the time crunch of the situation, she doesn't waist any time teasing you, instead going straight for your clit. Her fingers are so warm and rough they give you the perfect amount of friction and she has to slap her other hand over your mouth to keep you from being too loud. You don't last long due to the exposure of it all. When you've both caught your breath, she licks her fingers and fixes up your clothes seconds before the guy you were supposed to meet shows up. Just like that, she's back to her tough 'don't-fuck-with-me' personality.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

She's willing to do anything you show interest in but she's often the one to want to introduce new kinks to you. Before Tess, you'd known you weren't the most domineering person but you didn't think that would translate in the bedroom, much less that you'd enjoy it. But on one of your first nights together, she helped you slip deeper and deeper into sub-space, convincing you she'd take care of you. Which she did. She made you feel so small, taking away any thought you could have that wasn't focused on her and she did it so lovingly.

She also introduced you to anal, which you were terrified of until you started to experiment with it. At first, she would just graze your tight hole which sent jolts of electricity to your spine. You eventually asked her for more and she obliged with a smirk on her lips. She made you lie down on your belly, which was in itself a rare occurence, and used your abundant wetness to push a finger in. Needless to say you were hooked after that and often begging her to abuse your ass again.

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

She's a very strong woman and can therefore go for hours, sometimes lasting all night when you've been away for an especially long time. She has a hard time voicing her emotions but she's able to show you how much you mean to her through the pleasure she gives you and she can never get enough of you. She is human though so she'll stop every once in a while to get you both some water and talk with you about anything that comes to mind. You love these moments when you're talking, wrapped up in each other and you get the sudden urge to kiss her and be all over her again, knowing she would never want to do anything but be close to you.

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

Other than the strap, she does own a vibrator which both of you use. She likes using it on herself when you've been a brat. She makes you kneel on the floor while she turns up the vibrations and makes herself moan, her gaze never leaving yours. As she looks at you so intently, she says, "See what you did? Coulda been you making me feel good but you had to be a brat and now I gotta do it myself." with a sultry voice. All the while, you're begging her to let you make her cum but she's not having any of it. She makes you watch as she cums with your name on her lips before tossing you onto the creaky bed and fucking you with the vibrator (still wet from her heat) until you can't form a proper sentence.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Ma'am is such a fucking tease, not because she wants to torture you but because she gets so much pleasure from watching you squirm. When you're out in public, she loves going behind you and putting her hand on the front crease of your thigh, knowing how sensitive you are there. Her graze gets you slipping and she sees it. She often whispers in your ear using her bedroom voice to get you all riled up and asks questions like "Oh baby, what's gotten into you? Why are you so needy all of sudden?" when you start grabbing at her.Knowing she has so much power of you makes her weak in the knees.

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

She's not a very loud person but she does make a lot of noise. When you're making her feel good, she's always moaning and groaning at how good you are. You love her moans since they're so breathy and almost she, like she reserves them for you. When she cums though, to your surprise, her voice gets uncharacteristically high and you can't help the butterflies that form in your stomach. She used to be self conscious about that, but ever since you told her how wet you get knowing that you make her feel that good, she doesn't hold back her moans.

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

After a while of dating Tess, you finally get the courage to ask her to try one of your fantasies and she's more than happy to try. You tell her you want to be closer to her when you have sex and that you want to try scissoring so the next time you're making out, she pins you to the bed and grins into your mouth. "What're you up to?" you say with a slight giggle.

"Oh nothing," she says, "just making your dreams come true, princess."

Your heart skips a beat as she takes off your pants much faster than she normally would. She goes back to kissing you as she presses a knee between your legs, making you whimper. Soon, you're clawing at her pants and she gets the hint. She takes off all remaining clothing from both of you and slides her right leg over your left one, aligning her center to yours. All the while, she's looking at your fascinated face, "How you feelin' baby?" she asks.

"So good, please need you to touch me." you respond. So she does. She lowers herself onto you and the mixture of your wetness makes her grind so easily against you. You swear you've died and gone to heaven with the bliss you're feeling. And she couldn't be happier, knowing that she can truly feel how everything she's doing makes your body react.

Then you feel her throbbing and you can't help it, "Fuck! Tess I'm gonna cum please cum with me I need to feel you." you start begging.

She starts grinding harder and faster, and you know she's close too. "Go ahead, cum for me sweetheart I'm right behind you."

As you come down from your high, you feel Tess reach her climax and you're amazed at the feeling of more wetness gushing from her.

This becomes one of your regular activities.

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

Not much to say here other than I know it's pink—

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

Her sex drive is pretty high; as I said before she can't go more than a few days without fucking you. So she'll corner you at the most random times, almost demanding that you let her "that pretty pussy of yours" and you melt for her every time. She feels lucky to be with someone who's as horny, if not more, as her and she uses that to her advantage every chance she gets.

You'll often wake up from particularly exciting dreams only to realize that it was Tess waking you up in her favourite way: hand between you're thighs and face in your neck.

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Unless she's had a very long day, she doesn't fall asleep before you. She always makes sure you have everything you need before settiling into bed and nestles you under her chin until she hears your breathing even out. Then she takes a few minutes to admire your beauty as you sleep before falling asleep holding you close and safe.

***

a/n: no one asked me to do this but i needed to think about tess bc omg loml pls i need her to run me over and step on my face.

@lonelyfooryouonly here you go bbg I'm sleep deprived but lowkey proud of myself.

I was really inspired by @messrmoonyy for this fic cause there's so little Tess content on here and i wanted to do my part so she's the real hero here. Pls pls pls go check out her blog i literally fell in love and I can't go a day without my fix <3

#lesbian #tlou #wlw #tess servopoulos #tess tlou #tess smut #tess servopoulos x you #tess servopoulos x reader #tess fluff #sapphic #sapphic nsft #e #lesbian pride #I cant believe i wrote this dfasdhfak

55 notes · View notes

biggestsimponhere · 10 months

Note

could i please put in a request for Tess from tlou from smut prompt list 2, “you would look so good under me” and "i wanna ruin you"? i'm such a simp for her lol

thanks <3

Ruin me - Tess Servopulous x f!reader, Joel and reader are besties, Reader is Afab and uses feminine terms and pronouns! Sorry it’s not very long 😕 Tess is a soft dom

WARNINGS - Smut, Vaginal fingering, Oral sex, Praise kink, Degradation kink, Slightly under the influence (Alcohol)

Tess doesn’t outwardly show her affections. At least not often. Definitely not in public. While you love her it definitely also pisses you off. So while you’re not completely sober and are making terrible decisions you decide to flirt with some girl. You don’t remember her name and honestly you don’t care. All you care about is the fact that you can feel Tess’s eyes burning into you. “So, do you wanna get out of here?” Before you have a chance to respond you feel an arm slide around your waist. While you’re not completely sober you can definitely recognize Tess.

“She can’t. She’s with me” Her voice spat at the woman. You just leaned into her enjoying that she was actually touching you. “Come on, we gotta tell Joel we’re leaving” Tess said pulling you away from the woman. She walked you over to where Joel was sitting alone. “Joel, i’m taking her home. Try not to drink yourself to death” Tess said rolling her eyes. “I couldn’t even if i wanted to, this shit is nasty” Joel said before bringing it back up to his lips. You pulled out of Tess’s arms and slid your own around Joel. Though he was not one to hug openly he looked like he needed it right now.

“Goodnight Joel” You said smiling before heading off with Tess. You snuck one last glance at Joel to make sure he was okay and he had visibly relaxed. Once the two of you got into the apartment Tess pulled you into her. “I wanna ruin you” She growled in your ear before crashing her lips onto yours. You whimpered at the intrusion as she stuck her tongue in your mouth. As you continued kissing the two of you landed on the couch with you straddling Tess. “Ruin me then” You said smirking. She slid her hand into your hair and tilted your head back to gain access to your neck. She sucked marks all across it. Your neck now bearing purple and pink hickeys.

You whimpered as she found that spot on your neck that had you grinding against her thigh. “Are you really gonna get yourself off on my thigh? What a good pathetic slut you are” She said tilting your jaw to look at her. You whined as she started bouncing her leg. She let you bounce on her thigh for a few more seconds before stilling your hips. “As good as you look perched on my thigh like a good girl, I think you would look so good under me” She said flipping you over. You landed back against the couch. She smirked as she hovered above you. “Where’d you even get this dress anyways” She said kissing down your leg. “I got it off some guard it came with the pills we sold em” You said twisting your hips toward her mouth.

She held your hips still and shot you a warning look. “It’s a shame, it’s such a pretty dress” She said as she moved towards your core. “You better not tear my dress off tess, i’ll be so mad” You tried to say in a firm voice but it came out more whiny than you intended. “I’m not gonna tear it, maybe just soak it a little” She said before licking a stripe up your slit. You moaned loudly as she quickly found your clit. “You take it so well don’t you baby?” She said shoving a finger into you. You whimpered and nodded your head. “You want another one?” She said and you clenched around her finger. “Words pumpkin” She said stopping all movements. “Yes, yes please” You said grinding on her finger again. She slid a second finger in while still using her tongue to circle your clit.

“Oh- Oh fuck, can i come? Please, please, please” You begged grinding further onto her hand. “Go ahead and come for me princess” She said working you through your orgasm. As you came down from your high you stared at her. “Let me help you” You said toying with her jeans. “You don’t have to” She said rubbing your hand. “I want to, please” You said pushing her to lay down. You carefully slid her out of her jeans, peppering kisses along her legs as you went. You moaned as your hand came in contact with her wetness. “You always get this wet from eating me out?” You said hovering over her. “Watch yourself” She growled bucking up into your touch. “I’ll take that as a yes” You said heading back down between her thighs.

You circled her clit with your tongue before sliding a finger in her. She moaned as you circled it into her. “Doing so good for me baby, so good” She said arching into your hand. You slid another finger into her as you moved your tongue back to her clit. “You think you can take another finger?” You said nibbling her thigh. “D-do it” She said moaning. You slid a third finger in her and she practically convulsed on your hand as she ground on you. “You gonna come? Come for me” You said thrusting your fingers in and out of her. She came shaking as she clenched around you. She slid her hand back into your hair and yanked you down for a kiss. “You’re never wearing this dress out of the apartment again” She growled against your mouth. You just smiled knowing you were definitely wearing this out again.

#tess servopoulos x reader #tess servopoulos #tess servopoulos x you #tess servopoulos x y/n #last of us #the last of us #the last of us fanfiction

51 notes · View notes

corazondebeskar-reads · 4 months

Text

ain't no rest for the wicked - chapter two

ain't no rest for the wicked series

two: trouble will find you

series masterlist | prev chapter | next chapter

Tess Servopoulos x f!reader x Joel Miller

words: 6.9k

summary: After weeks of nothing, you finally hear from Tess and Joel again.

warnings: dark-ish Joel and Tess, smuggler!Joel, smuggler!Tess, boston QZ, QZ life, bittersweet ending/no happily ever after, poorly negotiated d/s-style dynamics, poor communication, enthusiastic consent, oral sex (m & f receiving), p in v, degradation, face slapping, pussy slapping, spanking, stalking, canon-typical violence, threesome, cum eating, light rope bondage, shower sex

also on ao3

dividers by @saradika-graphics

Weeks go by, and nothing weird happens. You can’t say you aren’t disappointed, but they didn’t say it was going to be a repeat thing. They definitely implied it, sure, but you could be cool about it.

So you had the best orgasms of your life with two of the most unhinged people you’ve ever met. Who needs hinges, anyway? And why do people say unhinged?

Wait, does it mean open? Like they’re unhinged because they have no door? Because, in that case, they’re two of the most hinged people you’ve ever met.

God, you miss when you could ask Google. Or Yahoo. Or Jeeves. Man, the internet was so cool. You bet your fucking Neopets are dead.

By the time you circle back and decide that you’re pretty sure unhinged does not mean open, you’ve autopiloted home.

You turn the key until it clicks and push open the door to your flat. At first glance, there’s no explanation for the way the world seems tilted just so.

Except for the little folded scrap of paper on your shitty rusted table. When you pick it up, something garishly yellow flutters to the ground.

It’s unmistakably a sunflower petal. It’s winter. Where the fuck—

No. Nope. You do not want to follow that thought; you want to let it fuck right off.

You rub the petal between your fingers. It’s so sinfully soft, there’s no doubt in your mind that it’s real.

The paper just says “tomorrow.”

Tomorrow. Tomorrow what? Tomorrow when?

When you open your cabinet to grab a can of soup, the first can you pick up rattles. It also doesn’t have a lid, so. There’s that.

You groan out loud. If you don’t look and just put it back, will it disappear into the other dimension from where it came?

In the end, you peek anyway, and yep. Sunflower seeds. Baked and salted, from the smell.

The implications are unsettling. In their minds, are you cannibalizing yourself at their whim? Are you consuming yourself in a pursuit of pleasure?

Are you really fucking overthinking it?

Tomorrow. For cripes sake. There’s no way you sleep tonight.

Except once you’ve had your soup and nibbled away at most of the sunflower seeds, your full belly lures you into the quiet of the night.

You’re nearly as jittery at work as you were the first time. Granted, you’re a little less afraid of them and more anxiously excited, but the thought of them sends your leg bouncing.

Your chair squeaks the whole time.

“Hey Sam,” you say as casually as possible to your deskmate.

“What?” He says warily.

“Do you know where I could get a horseshoe?”

“A… what?”

“A horseshoe, you know, like horses wear.”

“A singular horseshoe? Do I even want to ask why?”

“Yeah, just one. And no, probably not? Let’s say I’m just really into country chic decor right now.”

Sam turns back away from you.

Typical.

You’re getting ready to leave when you realize you don’t actually remember their address. You’re pretty sure you could find the right building since you walked yourself home, but there’s an uncomfortably large margin of error.

Also, the stupid note didn’t give a time. Should you go home first? Maybe they’ve broken in again to leave a little clue?

You’re saved from figuring it out when you find Joel in exactly the same place as before. You don’t startle this time—you’d peeked around the corner on purpose.

“Hi,” you say, fingers wrapping around your backpack straps.

“Hi.” It’s brusque and he’s scowling, doesn’t even look at you.

“I-I could have walked over. I don’t wanna inconvenience—“

“You’re not. I don’t want you walkin’ by yourself.”

“Ok.” You kind of wish Tess was there. You like Joel fine, but she’s at least a little more talkative. Even if everything out of her mouth throws you off center.

Actually, this is probably fine. Maybe you’ll still have your wits about you when you get there.

He keeps a little distance ahead. Not enough to lose you in the crowd but enough that it almost looks like you aren’t following him. Like he doesn’t want to be seen with you.

You don’t have hurt feelings. It’s fine. People might think he was cheating on Tess, you get it.

Whatever the fuck they were doing with you was certainly not cheating.

Tess is already in the kitchen when you get there. Joel hovers in the living room until you head in, like he thinks maybe you’ll snoop through the apartment if he doesn’t keep watch.

You’re not that stupid. That’s a fucking death wish.

She’s cleaning a pan. Joel grumbles at her about leaving it for him, and she rolls her eyes while he pulls out your chair.

You remember this, at least, and manage not to make a fool out of yourself.

Tess dries her hands and sits down across from you. “Hey, sunflower. You miss us?”

You burn up immediately, wishing it were literal. It’s like she knows you’ve had fingers stuffed up your cunt every night, remembering how they felt. How you buried your face in the pillow and wished it was the soft folds of her.

She chuckles. “Don’t worry, we missed you too. We’ll show you how much later.”

Joel sets hot plates down in front of you both, followed by glasses of water, before he takes his own seat.

You wonder if this is a special production or if they’re letting you see their natural domesticity.

If you thought dinner last time was a delicacy, nothing could have prepared you for this.

The slab of meat is unmistakably pork and rests on a bed of baked apple slices beside yellow squash and pale zucchini rounds.

You look up from your plate with wide eyes.

“Best not to ask,” Joel says.

You nod. This time, you go slow, savoring each bite. It can’t be real, you think. It can’t really be yours.

But they let you eat everything on your plate. No one snatches it away or scolds you for touching something you don’t deserve. Tess seems downright pleased when you set your fork down for the last time.

“Why are you being so nice to me?” You finally blurt.

Tess quirks an eyebrow. “Thought we made ourselves clear last time. When you’re here, you’re ours.”

“And we take care of what’s ours,” Joel says. When you snap your head to look at him, his eyes are dark and narrowed. Like he’s angry at the insinuation that they wouldn’t.

“O-okay,” you say, fixing your gaze back on your plate.

He stands up and clears the dishes, piling them in the sink.

Tess takes you by the hand and leads you out of the room. You expect her to stop at the couch again, but she takes you into what must be their shared bedroom.

Joel shuts the door behind him when he comes in. The room is warm and dark, the winter sun having retreated for the day already.

They don’t give you a moment to work yourself up. Tess is already kissing you as she walks you back to the bed. Instead of pushing you into it like you expect, she tugs you to a stop when your knees run into the mattress.

Her mouth moves down your neck as she easily discards your clothes. You shrink a little, and she tugs on your hair, forcing your head back so you look her in the eye.

“No being shy, now,” she warns. “S’ours to look at anyway.”

She peels your arms away from where they had instinctually folded across your breasts. Moving to one side, she smirks at Joel.

“Look at your little pet, baby. Ain’t she pretty?”

His hand brushes the curve of your breast, barely making contact but drawing a shiver from you anyway. “Sure is. A real sight for sore eyes.” His thumb finds your nipple, and you moan, looking up at him with pleading eyes.

He pinches it, smirking when you gasp.

“You look like you got a plan,” he says to Tess.

“You want two cunts to fuck today, baby?” She says.

You can almost see the switch flip in his brain. “Yes, please, ma’am,” he says.

She presses a much chaster kiss to your lips before patting the mattress. “Hop up, sunflower. On your back, head right here.”

Once you’re situated, she tucks a pillow under your head and climbs on top of you, settling her cunt right where you need it. When you try to touch her, though, Joel stops you, catching your wrists.

“Keep ‘em by your sides, or I’ll tie ‘em down.”

Tess laughs, dragging a finger through your folds. “I think she wants you to, baby.”

He crouches down by your head. “S’that so?”

You look at him from where you’re trying to reach Tess with your mouth, but she’s lifted her hips just a little too high. You whine.

“Yes, sir.”

His grin is otherworldly, all sharp teeth and shadow. “Attagirl,” he says, patting your cheek.

His hands are gentle but competent as he binds each wrist to the bed, stretched out to the posts of the footboard. Tess sits on your face while he works, letting you overstimulate yourself between her wet cunt and his control.

Once you’re secure, she leans forward and flicks her tongue over your clit, pulling a gasp that deepens into a drawn-out moan as she continues.

You whine when she lifts her hips back up just too far for you to lick inside her. Joel grabs your hair and holds you in place, dipping his cock into your mouth.

“Get it nice and wet for her, sunflower.”

You try your very hardest to give him the sloppiest blowjob you can while being held still.

When he pulls out, he presses his balls to your mouth, and you respond with soft licks as he notches his tip at the slick entrance of Tess’s cunt.

“Lick her,” he grunts, resisting the urge to plunge in all the way.

You’re on fire. This has to be, hands down, the filthiest thing you’ve ever done, but he props the pillow up more so you don’t have to strain your neck when you lick down his cock to where he’s splitting her open.

She moans into your pussy.

He holds you there, with your tongue flat against where he pushes in deeper. When he’s buried, you flick your tongue to his balls and back.

“Suck them,” he pants, and you obey, stretching your mouth around him.

He starts to thrust gently, not wanting to jostle himself against your teeth, but he loses patience eventually and yanks you off to shove you to her clit.

You’re squirming as she works you over, three fingers deep, stretching you to get you ready for Joel. You suck and lick at her clit as she cums, meaning to lick her through it and keep going for another.

But Joel tugs you back to lick where she leaks around him.

You’re glad he tied you down. It’s all so much, almost too much, and you don’t think you could have held still. The rope’s embrace holds the last shred of your sanity.

At some point, you started whimpering against them, pleading as best you can without pulling your mouth away.

“Aw, you wanna cum?” she mocks with an affected simper.

“No,” Joel grunts, his hips snapping hard against her. “Only way she's coming tonight is on my cock.”

You sob a little bit, and she pulls back to slap your aching clit. Your hips buck, and you nearly lose the fight.

“Oh, she fuckin’ loved that, baby,” she tells him.

“‘Course she did, she’s a fuckin’ slut for us.” He says.

You moan. You think you should probably care that they’re talking about you like this. Actually, you do care. You care a lot. It’s so fucking hot.

“You’re just our little whore, sunflower?” he says.

You nod minutely with Tess’s clit pinched between your lips, and she cums again, her slick rubbing on your face with each stroke of his dick.

“Alright,” she says, tapping his hand where it grips her hip.

He pulls out and unties your wrists. Tess lets you keep lapping at her for a minute, but when you’re free, she slides off you and sprawls, languid and satisfied.

He gives you a light slap on the cheek. “Trade places.”

You sit up and lay on your stomach to the side to let Tess move to where you had been. But first, she rolls to face you and pulls you in for a deep, slow kiss.

You go to tangle your fingers in her hair, but she catches your wrist, rubbing her thumb over the ridges left behind.

“That’s enough,” Joel growls, yanking you by the ankle.

Tess laughs. “Don’t wanna be left out, baby?”

“Wanna get my fuckin’ dick back in one of ya,” he says.

She gets situated with her head down at the end of the bed and tugs at you to climb over her. You waste no time diving back into her cunt until Joel smacks you hard on the ass.

“Did I tell you to start up?”

“No, sir,” you say, voice breaking a little with desperation and a little shame.

He slaps the other side of your ass for good measure. Unlike the way he eased into Tess, he doesn’t wait to push into you.

You’re so grateful for Tess stretching you out before. His cock feels impossible. You cry out into her bush.

Your wriggle, and she holds you still with a powerful grip on your hips, licking at your clit while he shoves forward.

“That’s right. Shit,” he slaps your ass again when you squirm. “Hold still and fucking take it, girl.”

Your cries are muffled, but you’re not protesting. It’s just so fucking much.

Tess distracts you from the sting and pinch of him by gently biting your clit, which hurts a hell of a lot more but also makes you a hell of a lot wetter, ultimately easing his passage. Enough so that he slams the rest of the way in.

Your mind whites out when he starts pounding into you. Tess shifts to lick at where you’re broken open on him, and your fists tighten in the sheets.

“Please,” you whine, breaking away from her cunt only long enough to beg.

“What d’you think, baby? She been good enough for you tonight?”

He rubs his hand over the side of your thigh and hums. You hold your breath. You’re pretty sure he’s just teasing you, but it’s a fucking struggle not to cum.

“Yeah, she’s been a real good girl,” he says. “Go on, sunflower, cum on my fucking cock.”

It hurts. It hurts where you clamp down around him. It hurts where Tess is relentless against your clit. But it’s maybe the hardest you’ve ever come—you’re pretty sure you blacked out.

When the world filters back in around you, you’re laying with your head on her, giving pathetic little kitten licks to her clit. Joel’s fucking you down into her, and when he sees that you’re semi-present, he shoves your head back into her folds.

“Again,” he snarls, and your body listens. Spasms. Falls apart again.

Vaguely, you’re aware of him begging Tess and desperately asking where he’s allowed to come. Whatever they decide, he pulls out abruptly. She slips out from under you and yanks you onto your back, swinging a leg over your hip to grind against you.

You reach for her with limp arms, and she finally, finally lets you cup her breasts as Joel tugs his aching cock and warm cum splatters across your face, tits, and arms.

You don’t even hear him walk away, but he comes back a minute later with a warm, damp towel to find you scooping some of his cum into your mouth. He groans, cock twitching.

“You gotta stop that, sunflower, or I’m gonna need that mouth again.”

You look up at him with wide eyes and part your lips.

He fists his cock and looks at Tess. She’s dozing off already but nods. He cleans her first, gently wiping away incidental splatter and residue of her own pleasure from her thighs.

You wait patiently with your mouth open and he rewards you by easing gently into your throat. He’s fully hard again now.

He fills your throat easier at this angle. Well, easier for him.

“Breathe,” he says, gripping the back of your head. “That’s it, sunflower, just breathe. You’re takin’ it so well.”

He helps himself to handfuls of your breasts, rubbing and tugging at your nipples while he chases his second orgasm.

“Cum with me. Show me what a fuckin’ cumslut you are,” he grunts between thrusts.

Tess leans over close to you. “Don’t swallow, sunflower.”

He pulls out a little right as he cums to let it pool in your mouth. It’s a fucking struggle as you let your own orgasm roll over you. When he pulls out, Tess pulls you in for a kiss and shares in his spend.

Again, the fucking filthiest sex you’ve ever had. You’re not sure how you managed it, but you’re not going to voice a single damn doubt, not going to risk whatever this is.

He finally cleans you off and putters around the room, tossing the towel in a hamper and tugging his clothes back on.

“I’m followin’ her home,” he murmurs to Tess while you’re in the bathroom.

She sits up. “What happened?”

“Tell ya more when I get back. But her place is too close to the boundary, and I caught a little tip-off when I was waiting to pick her up.”

Tess frowns but by the time you come out, dressed and refreshed, they’re lounging on the bed.

“C’mere,” Tess says before you can speak or move for the door. She tugs you down to the bed. “How’re you feeling?”

“Good,” you say automatically. You’re not actually sure. Everything’s a little fuzzy; the world wrapped in a cotton ball. You may or may not be shaking a little.

“You sure you’re okay to get home safe?”

“Mhm.” Your eyes are heavy, though, and the way her nails are tracing swirls up and down your arm is making you woozy.

You must have dozed a little because Joel’s coming back in the room and you didn’t know he ever left.

He hands you a mug of tea and sets a plate on the bed beside you.

“Gotta eat something. Y’look like ya might faint on your way,” he says at your crinkled face.

You sip from the tea and close your eyes as the warmth and sweetness crawl through you. “Thank you,” you say.

Tess has you leaning against her still, and you stay that way while you eat the sandwich Joel made. As it dwindles, your awareness of the situation grows stiff and uncomfortable.

You sit up. “Thank you, but um. I better get going.” You’re only a little dizzy when you stand up.

Joel takes the dishes out of your hands. “Sure you’re alright?”

“Yep,” you lie. “So, um. Have a good night.” It feels stilted, after what you’ve all just shared, but what else do you say to your two-time hookups? You skedaddle before it can get weirder.

You would have said yes this time, you think, if he had offered to walk you home again.

It’s only a week later when there’s a knock at your door.

There’s never a knock at your door. No one visits; there’s no one to visit.

You stare at the door for a minute, sitting on your bed eating room-temperature peas out of a can with your only spoon. The noise had startled you, and now you’re going to have to launch a search and rescue mission.

It knocks again. Well. Not it, you suppose, not the door. Whoever is on the other side.

You stand up, spoon hanging from your mouth, and open it with the chain still latched.

“Y’ain’t even gonna ask who it is?” Joel snaps.

You shut it and remove the chain, opening it all the way to reveal his scowl.

“Hi,” you say through clenched teeth where they hold onto the spoon. You’ve got one hand on the door and the other on your can of peas.

“You don’t even have a peephole. What’re you doing, just opening the door for strangers?”

“You’re not a stranger.” You’ve stuck the spoon into the remaining peas so you can speak clearly.

“You didn’t know it was me.”

You step back to let him in, eyeing him as he steps through the doorway.

He narrows his eyes at you. “What? I got somethin’ on my face?”

“No,” you say, not at all suspiciously, and cringe internally when your eyes can’t help but dart up and then back to him.

He turns and looks above the door where you’ve nailed a blue plastic horseshoe. Despite his apprehension, Sam had actually found one—leftover from some children’s game.

Though now you were wondering if it was less about the horseshoe shape and more about the properties of a ferried shoe. Maybe intent? Maybe the metal? Maybe it had to have been worn by a horse? You had never really listened to your grandmama. She was just a crazy old lady.

Or at least, you thought she was. But now there are mushroom zombies, so. Who knows.

Joel looks back at you with an eyebrow raised. “Doing some decorating?”

“Uh-huh,” you mumble, trying not to feel embarrassed. Then you remember that Joel being here is the weird part of this situation. You refuse to feel weirder than that.

“So, um,” you start.

He steps closer and tucks his fingers under your chin, thumb brushing over your cheek. It’s impressive how little it takes now for your brain to shut up.

“Hi,” you squeak.

“Y’said that already, sunflower.” He takes the can from you and sets it on the counter.

“Right,” you say, feeling a little ensnared by his gaze. “You have really pretty eyes.”

To your surprise, he blushes a little. His eyes go wide and his lips part. Instead of a response, he hides his reaction by kissing you so you’re too close to see the pink of his cheeks.

He turns you so he can press you against the door, licking into your mouth and pressing a thigh between your legs. It turns hungry very quickly, and you moan, spurring him on to slide his hands up your shirt.

“Not that I—“ you try, but he doesn’t let up. “Ah—hang on,” you turn your face.

He takes it as an invitation to nip and suck on your neck. You’re still distracted, but at least you can attempt to string together a sentence.

“Not that I mind,” a gasp draws out the words, “but why-yyy are you here?”

“Wanted your advice on interior design,” he says, jerking his head to the horseshoe, “but I think I’ve changed my mind.”

“Oh, shut up,” you try to say, but he’s latched back on to the sensitive area near your shoulder that has you abandoning your train of thought.

“Need you,” he says against your skin before he breaks away to tug your shirt over your head.

You can’t argue with that. Well, you could, but why would you want to when he’s got his hands and mouth on your breasts?

He grabs and pins your wrists above your head in one hand. The other pinches at whichever nipple isn’t currently in his mouth.

“Oh fuck,” you gasp.

He smirks around his mouthful before biting down so you cry out. His fingers find the seam of your leggings, stroking over to feel you squirm.

“Please,” you whimper.

He slaps your breast. “You wanna try that again?”

“Please, sir.”

“Down.”

You sink to your knees, but he doesn’t pull his cock out right away. Instead, he cups your cheek in his hand, watching closely as your eyes flutter shut and you lean against his hand.

“You still okay with all this?” he says, immovable gruffness betrayed by a hint of genuine concern.

You nod against his hand.

He draws his hand back, and a whine from you. It’s cut off by a sharp, but clearly restrained, slap. “Words, princess.”

“Yes, sir.” It caught you off guard, but you find you like the faint sting and heat of it.

“Yeah? Even that?”

He seems serious, no hint of a smirk or glint to his eye, so you pause to consider.

“I liked it,” you decide. “Felt nice. Made me want to please you.”

Now he grins and slaps you again. It’s not hard enough to leave a mark, just enough to make you gasp.

The heat spreads through you, and your mouth falls open, eyes following his hand as it drags away from your face to grasp his length through his pants.

“See what you’ve done?” He grips your chin tight with his other hand. “Gonna take care of that for me?”

“Please, sir.”

He pops the button open on his jeans and drags the zipper down unbearably slowly. You whine, and his fingers dig into your jaw.

“Be good,” he says. He draws his cock out and gives himself a few strokes just an inch from your mouth.

You look up at him and stick your tongue out. You want to whine, but you’re afraid if you’re not good, he’ll just fuck his hand.

He releases your chin. “Go on,” he says.

You kiss the sticky tip, licking the residue from your lips before taking his cock into your mouth. You moan in tandem, and his hand finds purchase on the back of your head.

“This place is kind of a shithole,” he says, looking around your tiny cube of a home.

“Gee, tha—“

He doesn’t let you finish, shoving you back down on his cock.

He fucks into you for a while, enjoying the way you moan around him when his dick bruises the back of your throat.

When he yanks you back suddenly, you gasp for air but try to get your mouth back around him.

“No, stop,” he says. “I don’t wanna cum yet. Want your cunt.”

You whine, and he almost caves, looking at the pure hunger with which you’re regarding his swollen, angry cock.

“I said no,” he says instead, jerking your head a little.

“Sorry, sir,” you say with a sigh.

He looks over your shoulder. “Y’ain’t even got a fuckin’ bed.”

You follow his gaze to your perfectly fine mattress. “I do so!”

“That ain’t a bed, sunflower. That’s a mattress with no box or frame.”

“Wait, hang on, haven’t you been here already?”

“Nah, that was Tess who stopped by.”

“That’s a funny way to say broke in.”

He quirks an eyebrow. “You complainin’?”

You look up at the horseshoe for a moment. “Nah, I guess not.”

He looks at it, too, and back to you. “I don’t wanna know. You got a shower?”

“You hate my bed that much?”

“No, I’ve been shovelin’ ash all day. M’not gonna fuck you like this, just need to rinse off.” He should have gone home first, he knows, but going back to an empty apartment just compounds his anxiety. He took a hard labor job on purpose, hoping it would distract him from the tightness in his chest.

It’s not that he doesn’t know Tess can handle herself. He just hates it when she goes alone for a deal.

“Yeah, okay,” you say. Before you move the towel away from the bathroom door, you stomp hard a couple of times and then wait a moment before opening it.

He decides not to ask.

“C’mon,” he says, tugging you by the hand into the tiny bathroom. At least you have a combination tub, so it won’t be too tight of a squeeze.

You start the shower for him and dig around in the cabinet for a clean towel. He reaches past you and grabs another.

“Wh—I got you one,” you protest.

“Y’ain’t gettin’ in with me?”

Oh. “Oh,” you say. “Yeah, I can do that.”

“But do you want to?” he asks, suddenly very close, backing you up against the sink. His hand lingers at the side of your throat.

“Uh-huh,” you nod.

“Then get in,” he says, tugging you away from the counter and giving a smack to your ass.

You yelp and strip down as he does the same. But he stops halfway through shucking off his pants after looking at the tile where his shirt landed.

“Do you eat in here?”

“What? No.”

“There are crumbs all over the floor.”

“Oh, those’re for Estella and Georgie.”

“I don’t want to know, do I?”

“Probably not.” You pause. “On second thought, you should. They’re mice. Please don’t hurt them.”

“Estella and Georgie are mice.”

“Yeah.”

“From outside.”

“Yeah.”

He sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose and shaking his head. His exasperation does not, you’d like to point out, stop him from stepping into the shower behind you.

His body cages you in, wrapping himself around you from behind. He rests his chin on your shoulder for a moment while his hands dance down each rib and over your stomach. They slide back up to your breasts, crossed to hold you against his chest while he gropes you.

You arch a little, as much as you can in his iron grip, and revel in the press of his hard cock against your ass. He groans when you roll your hips against it. You whine when he releases you, and he swats at your thigh.

“Let me get clean,” he scolds. “That was the whole point of this.”

Still, he can’t resist lathering your tits with his soapy hands and drinking the moans from your lips.

“I thought you were gonna fuck me,” you whine.

His fingers wrap around your throat and squeeze just so, sending sparks down your spine.

“I thought you were gonna be my good little girl,” he growls in your ear.

You whimper, involuntarily grinding back against him. “I want to. Please, I want to be—”

“What? Say it, baby.”

“I wanna be good,” you say.

His hand tightens until you squeak a little. “No, no, baby. Say, ‘I want to be your good little girl, sir.’”

You’re burning up. You can’t even blame the shower, because even the hottest water you get isn’t that hot. You whisper it back.

He eases up on your throat. “Can’t hear ya. Speak up.”

“I want to be your good little girl!” you blurt. “Um. Sir.”

He chuckles, dark and low, and the breath sends goosebumps skittering down your arms. “Yeah? You want to be my good girl and take my cock?” His hand slides down, almost where you need it, but he stops short of parting your lips, the tip of his finger brushing gently.

“Please,” you whine.

His middle finger dips in just enough to graze your clit. “I don’t think you want it bad enough.”

You grind back against him; a frustrated sob lodged in your throat. It slips free when he rubs a slow, gentle circle. “Please, sir. Please fuck me.”

You cry out when he pulls his hand away, but it’s only so he can push you up against the wall, hand between your shoulder blades to bend you forward. You brace yourself on the chilly cheap plastic.

He takes himself in hand and rubs the head of his cock against your slippery cunt. “I dunno. Doesn’t seem like you really want to get fucked.”

“But I’m so wet,” you protest.

“We’re in the shower, sunflower, ‘course you’re wet.”

You’re rapidly losing your grip on your sanity and also the wall, so you reach back and grab his hips, shoving yourself onto his cock. You’re not stretched enough to take it all, not even with your momentum, but the fat head of him pushes into you.

You and Joel gasp in unison, his hands tightening where they hold you, fingernails digging in. You moan, bringing your hands back to the wall as he pushes forward, voice breaking into a keen as he splits you.

He groans and grinds in deeper. “What a greedy fucking slut,” he says, having regained his senses. “Couldn’t wait, huh? You need it that bad?”

“Uh-huh,” you pant between thrusts.

“Alright,” he says, and then he stops. He holds still, buried balls-deep.

“No,” you sob.

“What?” He cracks a hand across your ass, grinning when you moan. “You want it that bad? Go ahead. Fuck yourself on my cock.”

You do. You rock yourself on it, trying to chase your pleasure on him. He grabs a fistful of your hair, to which you sputter a protest. You’d been careful so far not to get it wet.

“You got something to say?” He spanks you again. “Spit it out.”

But you’ve already forgotten about your hair, because no matter how hard you try, you just can’t seem to get the angle right. Your orgasm lies far out of reach.

You whine instead. “Please fuck me.”

“What’s the matter? You’re the one who helped yourself to my cock. Now ya don’t know what to do with it?”

You think you might actually cry. No, yep, tears are stinging in the corners of your eyes. You look back at him over your shoulder and hope you look pathetic enough for him to take mercy.

“Aw, baby, look at you,” he croons. “Shouldn’t have been so greedy, huh?”

“M’sorry,” you say. “M’sorry, sir, I promise I’ll be good.”

“You better,” he says, and then finally, finally shoves roughly into you.

The pace he sets meticulously takes you apart. His cock batters at you, his tight grip on your body unrelenting as he takes and takes and takes.

“So much better now, huh?” he says.

“Yes—oh fuck, s-so much. Thank you, sir.”

“Attagirl,” he moans. “Touch yourself, baby.”

You’re quick to obey, longing for his thick, calloused fingers.

But he knows that already. “See? Ya just can’t do it right yourself. Just let me make you feel good, okay?”

You’re nodding before he’s done talking. He wrenches your hand away and reaches down to pinch your clit.

“Now,” he growls. It’s a good thing, too, because you were already starting to fall apart.

He fucks you through it, and another, and another. Between the contrast of the warm water and cold wall, the brutal slap of his hips against your ass, and the dizzying pleasure, you feel fuzzy around the edges.

“Ah, fuck,” he groans. “Kneel.”

He steps back just enough to let you turn and drop to your knees. The water ricochets off his back as he plunges into your waiting mouth, and you swallow him down.

When he eases out, you’re soaked from the spray.

“Think we need to clean up again?” you say.

“Nah, why bother? I ain’t done with you yet.”

“What?” you gasp.

“Not a chance, sweetheart. Dry off and go lay on that sad little thing you call a bed for me, alright?”

It’s actually easier for him this way, he tells you with a smirk. “Ain’t gotta worry about my knees.” He’s lowered himself to the floor, with your ass perched on the end of the mattress.

Practically lounging, he’s spread your thighs to carve a space for himself, holding you as he takes his sweet time. For a goddamn eternity, all he does is kiss and bite your thighs, with the occasional soft lick to your folds. But he doesn’t dip in, doesn’t seek out your pleasure.

No, it’s very clear that this is for him. Which is not to say he doesn’t want you to feel good; he very much does. But tonight, he has the luxury of time and a comfortable angle to do whatever the fuck he wants.

You’re shaking, legs trembling, when his tongue finally nudges inside, just a quick flit of his tongue into your cunt before he drags it up to your clit.

“Please,” you sob, much like you have been. But this time, it’s different. He can tell from the way you’re squirming and clenching down.

“Give it to me,” he growls into you, and sucks at your clit until you come.

It feels like hours. There’s no way it can be, really, but he works you over again and again until you can’t take it anymore. You’re crying, real tears sliding down the sides of your face, and your hips move of their own accord in an attempt to escape.

He doesn’t let you out of it that easy. His hand comes down against your cunt before you realize he let go of your leg. And fuck, it feels good, but also, you might be dying?

“Can’t, I can’t,” you whine.

“You sure? I think you got one more in ya.”

“Fuck,” you sob.

He eases up a little, fucking you with his tongue while his fingers rub gently around your clit. When you cum, you have to bite your fist not to scream. He holds you down with a strong arm across your hips as you buck and struggle.

But he backs off as soon as you’re coming down. “Attagirl, that’s it. So good for me,” he murmurs, climbing up onto the mattress beside you.

He rolls you over into his arms and kisses your forehead, nose, and lips. “Such a good girl, takin’ everything I wanted.”

You’re limp. You think maybe he’s one of those vampires. What did they call them? Energy vampires? Or are you thinking of some kind of demon?

Anyway, you think he drained your life force out of your cunt. You can’t keep your eyes open, and your limbs are heavy. You’re sleepin’ with the fishes, you think, and giggle a little.

“You okay?” he says.

“Mhm, m’just so sleepy,” you mumble. Even your lips feel too heavy to move.

“I gotcha, sunflower; you can sleep.” He kisses your forehead again and tugs your comforter up around you both.

There’s a knock on your door for the second time in twelve hours. That’s more than the last twelve months.

You startle awake and yank the sheet up to your neck, but relax a little when you see Joel. He’s already hefted himself up and approached the door.

The knock comes again, but this time you notice there’s a pattern to it.

“Who is it?” he says anyway.

“Just me,” Tess says.

Joel unlatches the locks and lets her in.

“Thought I might find you here,” she says, low and quiet.

“You okay?” he says.

“Yeah, but I need your help with some cleanup. How’s she?”

“Good,” you whisper.

Tess does a double take. “Thought you were sleeping, sunflower.”

“Was, but people keep banging my door down today.” You yawn and for some reason, reach your arms up.

She obliges your sleepy plea, coming close enough to bend down and kiss you. “Don’t worry,” she says. “We’ll see you soon, okay?”

“Okay,” you agree. But something falls in your spine, something sad and heavy and taboo.

“I gotta go back out. Meet me downstairs,” she says to Joel, who’s getting his filthy clothes back on. She gives you a kiss on the forehead. “Be a good girl and go back to sleep.”

You hum your agreement and lay back down against your pillow.

Joel crouches down by the mattress. “Sorry, sunflower, we gotta get goin’,” he says, giving your cheek a brief caress.

The disappointment is there and gone so fast, he thinks maybe he imagined it. Maybe he just wanted to see it.

But it was real, much to your displeasure. You didn’t want them to think you were getting greedy, that you felt any entitlement to their time.

“Okay.”

“Need ya to lock up behind us.”

“Just turn the thingy before you close the door,” you mumble, trying to spare your poor feet the pain of the frigid floor.

The look he levels you is nothing short of furious. “You tryin’ to be funny?”

“No?”

“That flimsy little joke ain’t gonna protect you. Your hinges are too weak; anyone could kick that in. At least the deadbolt and chain would buy you a minute.”

“It’s cold,” you whine. But you know he’s right. After all, Tess got in and out without causing any damage. Hang on, though. What was that about weak hinges?

Does that make you… unhinged? You laugh out loud at your joke. Your daddy always said it was a good thing you thought you were funny, ‘cause no one else would.

He ignores it and yanks the blanket off you.

“Hey!”

“You can have it back when you get up.”

“Mean.”

“You think this is mean? I’m fixin’ to put you over my knee and change your little attitude.”

Your eyes go wide, and there’s a tell-tale heart(beat) buried beneath your panties. “You wouldn’t.”

“You damn well know I would.”

You swallow hard around the sudden ache in your throat where his cock should be.

You get up and shuffle over to him. “Alright, quit yer bitchin’. I’m here, and I will lock all the locks.”

He wraps the blanket around your shoulders. “Good girl,” he says and presses a brief kiss to your forehead. Before you even register it, he’s gone, door clacking shut behind him.

You lock all the locks and climb back in bed, but sleep doesn’t find you again.

next chapter

*title from "Trouble is a Friend" by Lenka

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x f!reader #tess servopoulos x reader x joel miller #tess x reader #tess x joel #joel miller x tess servopoulos #joel miller x reader x tess servopoulos #tess servopoulos x you #tess servopoulos x reader #tess servopolous x joel miller x you #tlou smut #tlou fics #the last of us fics #the last of us fic #the last of us smut #fic: ain't no rest for the wicked

156 notes · View notes