#HBO you can fuck yourself

[anastaaaaaaasia]

I really hate HBO

I am writing this and understand perfectly well that this post can cause a lot of discontent and hate, but I feel that I can no longer remain silent.

It's about HBO and the character of Aegon, and more specifically about the incident with Dyana.

Many of the green team and even Tom Glynn-Carney himself are hated and called rape apologists. *Deep breath*

Honestly, I will never understand this, especially when real people are bullied for fictional characters. But today I would like to talk about HBO.

I absolutely love the character of Aegon, I love the books on which the series was based, but HBO is hitting another rock bottom with their masterpieces.

All the scenes with Dyana look terribly awkward, because the serial Aegon is so pitiful that sometimes you think that he himself is being straponed by all the servants in turn. As my mother says, you can only hug him and cry. Diana as a character is a simple cardboard figurine for HBO's convenience.

All modern values, agendas and education on these topics are, of course, good, but not when they cover their asses with it for their own convenience. Unfortunately, in the modern world, where the topic of violence is very acute, it also turns out to be a very profitable topic. Profitable for increasing coverage, convenient for creating a clichéd image of a villain. I wouldn't even be surprised if HBO released Dyana T-shirts later.

But the most deplorable thing is that a large corporation does not remember about rape, when they could have donated to a fund to help victims and talked about it at events. Just perform an educational function!

Sorry, but HBO essentially monetized violence.

Chapter 2. Fans and double standards.

I can understand why the TV series Aegon is hated. Yes, he’s no good! Despite the fact that he still remains my favorite character. The first scene with the adult Aegon, right where Alicent scolds him for Dyana. This act is essentially presented to us as the main one, as the main feature of Aegon. How else should those who were not familiar with the books before react?

But I have another question, many of the fans of the House of the Dragon watched Game of Thrones, where there is much more violence. Why then were only new characters included in the distribution?

We had Ramsay raping Sansa on her wedding night. We believed this because we saw the sadistic tendencies and understood that Sansa was not a Mary Sue who would be able to escape from Ramsay at the last moment.

We had JAIME raping Cersei over the corpse of their own son. but his character had been revealed before from the best sides, so many did not even understand what happened.

I will never get tired of saying that the writers and producers, frankly, did a terrible job. We were supposed to have a series where the fight is between two types of shit, all of them gray. But we ended up with characters without motivation, with unnecessary clichés and, frankly speaking, boring in many places.

We got a real feud between the fans. This is good for business, but bad for humanity. It turns out that many actors receive hate.

Yes, I’m on the green team, but first of all, I’m on the team of those who condemn the shitty work of screenwriters and producers.

[musical-chick-13]

Okay, no, sorry, I’m still mad about this. “Be critical of the media you consume and examine why you react to it in the way that you do, support marginalized and stigmatized identities.” Yeah, until it’s about mental illness.

A woman (or even man, if he’s deemed over-emotional) makes music about suffering from mental illness and people just go, “What are they complaining about, that’s so immature, hashtag wangst.” (And then, sometimes, inexplicably, if the mentally ill woman gets better and writes happier music, they then talk about how artistically bankrupt she is now and that she should go back to hating herself.) People LOVE cis white pRoBLeMaTiC (straight) fictional men until they are realistically mentally ill, in which case they’re “whiny” and “insufferable” and deserve to die violently, apparently (or, if fandom is merciful, they’re ignored). (And then they celebrate when they DO inevitably get killed off.) “Do your duty and watch [thing I, mc13, personally find insufferable] For The (white) Gays because it has Gays.” Sure, will you watch c4 Pure, the ONLY show specifically about OCD, then? (No, the answer is no, it’s always no.)

I can’t get anyone to watch Doom Patrol. I couldn’t get people (in general-I did convince a few irl friends thank GOD) to watch Crazy Ex-Girlfriend. One of the most popular and acclaimed shows right now has a character with schizophrenia who was turned into the Big Bad Villain for no fucking reason. One of the most commonly-cited examples of Iconic™ queer media involves a mentally ill man being broken over and over and over again before The Ship™ can reasonably happen. DW introduced a major character who was at one point suffering from mental illness in her past, AND THEN ALL MENTION OF THIS WAS COMPLETELY DROPPED IN THE FUTURE, WITH NO BEARING ON ANYTHING TO THE POINT WHERE I FORGOT IT EVEN EXISTED??!?!? R*tched was a thing that existed despite the Sad Sympathetic Backstory treatment being IN DIRECT CONTRADICTION OF WHAT PURPOSE THIS CHARACTER SERVED IN One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest. THEY GAVE. A SAD WOOBIE VILLAIN TREATMENT. TO THE /LITERAL PERSONIFICATION/ OF ABLEISM. THAT IS HER FUNCTION. TO EXIST AS A SYMBOL OF ALL THE WAYS SOCIETY OPPRESSES THE DISABLED AND MENTALLY ILL.

I am!!! Literally!!!!! The only one!!!!!!!!! Complaining about these things!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! THE ONLY ONE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! No one else has said ANYTHING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! No one is talking about it!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I’m so tired!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[wowifinallymadeanaccount]

Listen if anyone was going to fight an infected and WIN while giving fucking BIRTH to Ellie Williams it was going to be Ashley Johnson

TAKING A LIFE WHILE BRINGING A LIFE INTO THE WORLD OH MY FUCKING GODDDDD

You fucking genius's Ashley, Neil and Craig

Bravo

[endlessthxxghts]

Best I Ever Had

Jackson!Joel Miller x afab!reader | w/c: 2.3k

Summary: Someone tries to hit on you on your night out with Joel, insulting your man in the process, and oh you don't like that. You blow off some steam in more ways than one.

Content/Warnings: Reader is able-bodied, no physical descriptions. Feminine perception of reader and feminine pet names (Joel calls you mama and babygirl), but no pronouns used. Reader's a fucking badass and can hold their own fights (probably Joel's too, tbh). Slight description of reader getting physical/violent with another person (bby has some anger issues). Established relationship. Implied age gap (exact number unspecified). A bit of insecure Joel. 18+ MDNI! Dom!reader !! Sub!Joel !!!! P in V unprotected. Slight breeding kink (reader just likes being filled, no children talk). Joel has a fast refractory period (don't think too much on it, just enjoy). Definitely some overstimulation. Cockwarming. Riding..straddling.. Teasing. Begging. Edging. Sloppy making out. Multiple orgasms. Please let me know if there’s anything I missed that should be up here!

A/N: Some get post-nut clarity, but I get post-nut lust. This was the product of that. Hope you enjoy, my angels. Thank you @honeyedmiller for beta’ing 🩶 also I picture both game Joel or hbo Joel, so it’s entirely up to you what you wanna visualize ;)

masterlist | notifs blog

It was a busy night at the Tipsy Bison. Everyone was out. Everyone was mingling, getting to know each other. As if it wasn’t a small town already, but hey, it wouldn’t hurt to make sure you really knew the people living in this little forever-town. 

Except, Joel was not one to mingle—especially on nights like tonight. Tommy insisted that he come, it’ll be nice, he tried to reason. 

He eventually agreed. Not because of Tommy, though, but because of you. 

You knew Joel was a certified grump, through and through. And you love Joel, you really do. But the post-apocalyptic world caused you to react differently than your man. Yeah, you’ve become tougher, harder to break, harder to trust. However, you crave any sense of normalcy you can find. So on occasion, you like to go out and get to know the people of the town. You like human interaction. 

And when they say opposites attract, the saying couldn’t have been more true. Joel was absolutely smitten the day he met you. It’s been a long time coming between you two—with his vulnerability, or lack thereof, and his initial unwillingness to accept that he can finally relax and unclench his jaw—but you’re together now, stronger than ever, and everything is worth it. 

You are worth it. 

Which is exactly why all you needed was to give one raise of your brow during his protesting before Joel promptly shuts his lips and takes a defeated breath, fixing his answer to Tommy. “Oh, hell. Alright, brother, we’ll be there.” 

And to be quite honest, Joel would go as far to say that tonight’s little get together was actually decent for once. That is, until he sees you waiting on the bartender for his beer and your old-fashioned, and a man—a boy—approaches you. 

“Hey,” you heard a voice beside you say. Not realizing it was meant for you, your attention stays on the bartender. Still, the voice persists. “I was thinking, uh-” you look at the guy then, eyes staring him down in a way he perceives as a challenge. 

He clears his throat. “I was thinking I could buy you a drink?” 

“No, I’m good,” you say shortly. The bartender comes up to you, pulling you away from the guy’s feeble attempt at flirting. You tell the bartender your order, and before you can take another moment to speak, the guy pipes up. 

“Put it on my tab,” he smirks triumphantly, taking a closer step to you. 

You pull yourself away on instinct— out of disgust, but your eyes stay trained on his gaze. You’re pissed, but this naïve little boy has no idea. Both of what you're capable of and what the older man, your older man, across the bar is capable of. 

“Thanks,” you smile, “my boyfriend’s gonna appreciate the free drink,” you tell the guy, turning to Joel and giving him a sweet smile. You’ve been feeling his stare the second this waste of space walked up to you.

Joel would pounce if you told him to. He knows you can handle yourself, though, and you confirm it through that pretty smile you flash him. He can’t deny the way his cock twitches at the way this scene is unfolding. Part of him is begging for the guy to try something more, to test you—to unleash you. 

The guy scoffs the second he sees Joel. “That old man is your boyfriend? Come on, baby,” his hand reaches for the crook of your elbow. “You can do so much better than that,” he taunts. 

And that was the something more you needed. Immediately your hand takes hold of his wrist, twisting the man to face the bar in a rough fashion as you lean him over the bar counter, his arm twisted behind his back, shoulder ready to snap out of his socket with the tiniest of movements. 

“Wanna say that again?” You seethe, knocking the breath from his lungs as you push him into the wooden counter. 

“I said—” 

He’s cut off by his own high-pitched scream. You push his arm higher, a sharp pain shooting through every nerve center in the guy’s arm. 

“Sweetheart,” a southern twang says softly, but it’s not your man. Tommy. “I know he probably deserves it, darlin’, but it’s not worth it,” he says, not wanting to aggravate you more. Everyone knows not to test you. 

Well, apparently not everyone. 

You roll your eyes, knowing Tommy’s just trying to keep up the liveliness of tonight. “Fine,” you mutter. Leaning closer into the guy, you whisper into his ear. “Talk about my fuckin’ man like that again, and I’ll snap your shoulder so fuckin’ hard, Jackson’s doctors won’t even know what to do with ya. Ya hear me?” You’re not from the South, and before the outbreak, you’ve never even been. But get angry enough, and Joel’s twang possesses you.

You release the crying boy with a shove, and you back up, wanting to pull yourself away from the situation. Your back is met with something hard, and immediately you know who it is. You soften in his touch as his arms immediately wrap around your waist. “You alright, babygirl?” Joel rasps in your ear. You can feel his fucking hard-on pressed against your back. 

The guy looks at you and Joel, chest still heaving as his face turns into disgust, a fuck you muttered under his breath, an aftertaste of jealousy on his lips. 

Smiling wildly at the guy in front of you, you snake your hand up to wrap around Joel’s jaw before you turn your head back and tilt your head up, pulling Joel into an open-mouthed kiss, your tongue pushing into his mouth as he eagerly sucks it, lapping up your spit. He groans into you, his arms pulling you impossibly tighter into him. 

You pull away with a harsh nip to his lip, feeding off the little whimper Joel lets out. “Baby,” he whines. 

You look back to the guy, and the silent audience you’ve accumulated. “Come on, cowboy,” you breathe. “I’m not done with you.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he replies happily, spinning you two around and walking out with you still pressed against him. 

The bar stays quiet after a beat. Tommy’s hand slaps the bar counter before he speaks. “Well. Get the music back going unless y’all wanna hear ‘em goin’ at it all night!” The bar roars in laughter, the music coming back to life. 

Before returning back to Maria, Tommy turns to the guy. “You. Out.” 

He scrambles without looking back.

“Oh my God, baby.”

“Fuck— I- I can’t, baby, I can’t hold it much longer, baby, I need to come.”

“Just one more second, baby.”

“Mama, please,” he cries out, his head lolling from side to side on his sweat-soaked pillow as you grind your hips into his pelvis, lifting yourself on and off him every other moment. His hands hold onto your hips, not in a way to control your movement but to simply feel you. 

“Oh, come on, be a good boy for me, baby,” you moan, your hand fixing itself onto his jaw to make him look at you. “Just wanna feel you twitch inside me a little bit more ‘fore you make a mess inside me, okay?”

“Oh, fuck— yes, yes, mama, yes, okay,” he rambles, trying his hardest to breathe through the pleasurable pain as you take and take and take. 

A particular grind sends your back arching, his pubes soaked in your arousal nudging perfectly against your clit, sending an electric pulse up your spine. You cry out in ecstasy, your climax hitting you instantly. “Oh fuck, oh shit- fuckfuckfuck, baby, come with me— come inside me, baby, fucking fill me,” you nearly scream, hoping that boy can hear you now. 

“Shit, baby, oh my God- fuck- I’m coming, mama, holy fuck- I-” he stutters, his thigh muscles shaking underneath you as you bounce on him through his climax, the mix of his spend with yours bouncing lewdly across the walls of your shared bedroom. 

Your hips come to a slow but never stop, your chest heaving as you lean down to bring your lips to Joel. You let them ghost across his lips, but you don’t let them touch. He knows better not to chase it, not yet, anyway. He can still feel you fuming. 

You can do so much better than that.

“Can you fucking believe him?” You whisper against his lips, barely audible yet fucking scary nonetheless. 

Joel thinks that boy is right, deep down. Even though he’d never want you to leave him, and you’d never want him to leave you. Joel thinks that there’s a crumb of moral rightness in that statement. But he keeps that to himself. 

Nevertheless, you know Joel like the back of your hand. He doesn’t need to utter a lick of anything to you. You already know what he’s thinking. 

“Joel,” you say again. “I asked you a question.”

All questions must be answered. 

Fuck. 

“Y-yeah, baby,” he rumbles, too distracted by the comments from the bar, but mainly still caught up in the way his softening come-covered cock is still nestled inside of you. 

You sit up now. A whine leaves his throat at the movement. “So you do believe him?” 

Only then does he realize what he said. His eyes shoot up to yours. “W-wait, no, baby, ‘m sorry, no. No, I don’t believe him, baby,” he panics. 

You quirk your eyebrow at him. 

“The fuckin’ audacity on ‘em,” he adds for good measure. 

You’re silent for a beat. Then—

“You’re lying.”

Joel’s heart starts to race. “No, baby. Please. Mama, I’m not lyin’,” he tries. 

Still straddling his hips, you grab onto his bicep, pulling upward. He gets the hint and sits up. He’s still inside you, his cock slowly growing to full mast again the longer you sit here. 

You’re face to face now. His arms are loosely wrapped around your waist, your arms tightly around his neck.

“Look me in my eye,” you whisper, “and tell me you’re the best I ever had.”

Joel audibly gulps. 

Slow— so slow, your hips begin to move again. A breathy little moan escapes your mouth, and he lunges forward for you, his tongue dancing along the tip of yours, swallowing your breath. You allow it. 

“Tell me,” you groan into his mouth, practically swallowing his tongue as you shallowly bounce yourself on him. 

“Baby,” he whines, getting lost in this dance of heat and sweat he’s become utterly addicted to. 

You break yourself away from his mouth, not allowing him the option to reach for you anymore. He pulls back, eyes wild and sad. His mouth turned down into a literal pout. 

“My poor baby,” you mutter. “Tell me what I wanna hear,” you say again. “Or you’re not getting my lips nor are you coming for the rest of the night,” you tell him, switching back into your grinding motion to stimulate your sensitive bud, letting him feel the way your pussy flutters around him. 

“Baby,” he begs again as you grind, your warmth forcing him to another climax. Please don’t make me say it, he’s trying to convince you. 

Your fingers find their home at the base of his salt and pepper curls, tugging them in warning. “Tell. Me.”

You force his body down to lay flat on the bed again, towering over him, allowing your body the space to lift yourself off of him, only his tip inside of you. He takes a sharp breath in, knowing what’s coming. 

You drop yourself down on him, fucking yourself on his cock at a bruising pace. You grab his hands and drag them up to your chest, wrapping his thick digits around you encouraging him to squeeze. 

“Fuck- mama, I’m gonna—”

“No the fuck you’re not, baby,” you moan, lost in the pleasure but still rightfully in charge. “Swear to God, Joel, gonna leave you fucking swollen and pulsing for a fucking week— oh fuck,” you cut yourself off, a familiar sensation building at the base of your spine, sending you convulsing around his length yet again. 

Joel’s eyes clamp shut, finally giving into your request so he can finally let go. “I— shit, I’m the—” a rugged moan forces itself out, “—the best you ever had, mama, please, the fuckin’ best, baby,” he cries out, his hips bucking up into you as he covers every inch of you with his spend. 

“Shit,” you moan, his words affecting you a lot more than you anticipated, your hips doing overtime, unable to find it within you to stop even as he begins to soften. “Yes, fuck, that’s my boy, shit—” you breathe, “—the fucking best, always make me feel so fucking good, baby.”

His hands finally use their strength, trying his best to slow you with ease, his nerves reaching the point of painful overstimulation. “Alright, baby, alright,” he winces. 

Recognizing his limits, you immediately begin to slow, lowering yourself onto his heaving chest. You let him slip out of you this time, giving him an actual break. “I’m sorry,” you whisper into his chest. 

“For what, baby?” Joel responds with a kiss into your head.

“Did I go too far?”

He couldn’t help the belly laugh that shakes the both of you. You immediately sit back up, your hands on his chest to keep your limp body up. “What?” you glare at him.

“Too far? Which part, darlin’? Nearly breakin’ that guy’s shoulder or my dick?”

A belly laugh erupts out of you this time. Taking a moment to compose yourself, you respond. “...Both.”

“Mmm…” Joel puts on a fake thinking face. “Maybe to the former, but not at all to the latter,” he hums, his hands finding the back of your head to pull you in for a chaste kiss. 

You hum into his lips, a smile stretching across your cheeks. 

Resting your head on his chest, you let a few moments pass before you speak again. “Tommy’s not gonna invite us to another one of those, huh?” 

“Probably not, mama,” he smiles. “Probably not.”

I’d love to hear what you think!! Any feedback or interactions with you all truly brightens my day. So so so much love for you all. Thank you for being here 🩶

I cannot get myself to write for Joel or for TLOU without mentioning the horrors occurring in Palestine. Please check out the links in my navigation + bio to learn about the situation in Palestine and also learn about some ways in which you can help🇵🇸. Reading and interacting with those links takes 5 minutes of your time at the bare minimum.

graphics by @saradika-graphics (middle divider in fic by me)

[yellowharrington]

save a horse (ride a cowboy!) -- joel miller x reader

pairing + fandom: joel miller x reader, the last of us (hbo)

word count: 3.9k

warnings/notes: smut and porn!!! minors DNI, 18+!!! no outbreak!au. she/her pronouns used, afab!reader (with mentions of body parts), no use of y/n. age gap (joel is at least 10 years older). drinking (both reader and joel), unprotected PIV, oral (f receiving), spanking, dirty talk, car sex. if i missed anything lmk!

a/n: recommended listening: save a horse (ride a cowboy) by big & rich. honourable mention to austin by dasha bc it's been on repeat. please take the time to leave comments/reblog if you liked it <3 thank u for reading!! divider by @cafekitsune

summary: meeting an older man at the bar and spontaneously fucking him in his truck was not on your list of things to do for your first summer back in austin, but what can you do?

You hate going dancing.

Sweaty clubs with bodies brushing up against one another, sticky with the hot summer heat, confined to the walls of a crowded bar and beer sticking to the bottom of your shoes. Not the way you plan to spend your first Saturday night back in Austin for the summer, but Maddy is so convincing, your hand clasped around yours, a pleading look in her eyes. 

“I promise. It’s so fun. We’ll invite Kaylee and Erin and it’ll be a whole thing.”

You rolled your eyes at her, slipping your hand out from between hers. “Fine. One drink, one dance.”

She squealed with excitement and clapped her hands together, stepping up from the small cafe table. “We can pregame at mine. Wear that black top you have.”

You nod, thinking of the top in question. A corseted black thing that didn’t leave much to the imagination, breasts spilling out of the stop beneath the tight stitching. You think it probably got shoved to the back of your closet somewhere.

~

Joel hates going dancing.

Well, he doesn’t hate dancing. He just isn’t good at it, and hasn’t gone since his very early twenties. And he certainly would not be interested in spending the evening with Tommy at a country bar in downtown Austin, surrounded by women who would grimace at a pair of old men taking up a table.

But Tommy is convincing, hands gesturing around him annoyingly, until Joel gives in. “Fine. One drink. Then I’m leavin’.”

“This city is swarming with beautiful women,” Tommy says, knocking back another sip of his hot coffee. “And you’re too holed up inside to meet any of ‘em.”

“I like my own company,” Joel starts, bringing his own coffee mug to the sink. “Some of us are happy by ourselves.”

Tommy snorts, a hand clapping onto Joel’s shoulder. “Keep tellin’ yourself that, big shot. We’ll see when there’s a bunch of hotties in front of ya, then you can tell me that you like being alone.”

Joel gags at his use of the word ‘hotties’, and pulls his work boots on. “I can still change my mind, ya know.”

~ 

Night falls over the suburbs of Austin, taking the sunshine but leaving the humid, sweet heat in the air. You’re surrounded by your friends at Maddy’s apartment, a light pink gloss swiping across your lips. You’ve managed to dig out the top she had mentioned earlier, tied in a tight bow at the back. Your dark jeans hit just below it, letting slivers of smooth skin show, which somehow seemed sluttier than the fact your boobs were practically falling out of the top. Your jeans outlined the plump curve of your ass, a pair of dark cowboy boots adorning your calves. The last time you’d dressed like this was a long time ago, so it felt a little foreign, but not uncomfortable.

The cab ride to the bar is eventful, with 4 girls singing along to the songs on the radio at the top of your lungs. You were already a drink or two deep, having done some brightly coloured shot at Maddy’s house, taking it without thinking. You still weren’t planning on doing anything insane tonight, and bar drinks were expensive, so this was probably the best it was going to get for you.

The car pulls up to the bar and waits for you all to pour out, flashing your IDs to the bouncer, sliding inside past the thrums of people already inside. The bar was almost full, dance floor packed, drinks being poured by every bartender. Neon signs and amber lamps served as the only lighting for the establishment, already making things feel fuzzy around the edges for you.

Joel sits at a rickety wooden table in the corner of the bar with Tommy, scratching the wet label off of his beer bottle. He had fished out a plaid t-shirt from his closet, his usual jeans taught across his thighs and a pair of nicer boots than his work ones on his feet. His hair was pushed back, curls still lapping at the nape of his neck and curves of his ear. He was noticeably older than the other patrons of the bar, painfully aware of that fact, he felt rather uncomfortable. Tommy didn’t seem to mind, feet tapping at the beer-washed hardwood. “Stop lookin’ so mad,” he remarks, close to Joel’s ear. “You’ll scare ‘em all away.”

There are groups of people pouring in from outside, bachelorette parties and frat boys, making Joel feel unbelievably out of place. It was hard to lighten up when he wasn’t sure exactly what he was doing here.

The doors open once more, your group of friends pushing their way through the sea of people, hand in hand. Joel notices, one girl in a cowboy hat, one in denim jean cutoffs, one with a big belt buckle that glints pink against the light. 

Then he notices you.

His face softens as you follow behind your friends, as they push to the front of the line for a drink. He’s got 10 years on you, easy, but that doesn’t stop his cock twitching against the zipper of his suddenly too-tight jeans.

Soft curves, a top that fits you just right, and jeans that accentuate the dips and lines of your body. You’ve got warm energy, a bright smile adorning your glossed lips. 

You barely even notice him, until you turn around and make eye contact, your shining eyes meeting his. He’s too handsome for his own good, biceps and shoulders pressed tight against the sleeves of his shirt. He’s got his thighs spread across the chair he’s sitting in, towards you, almost like he wants you to come and just sit right on his lap.

You offer a small smile across the dim bar, taking your drink and following your friends to the last open table they’d spotted. A high top, back to the stranger now, giving him the opportunity to see your shape. He swears you’re sticking your ass out on purpose, so he can see the soft skin where your jeans meet the bottom of your top. 

“Joel,” Tommy’s voice cuts through the bustle of the bar. “If you’re gonna be so fuckin’ miserable, we can go. There’s another place-“

Joel stops him, teetering his beer towards his brother. “This is fine. We can stay for another round.”

~ 

You pull yourself away from the group after finishing your round of sugary drinks and shots, your head beginning to buzz. “I’ll get the next ones,” you giggle, pushing yourself out of your seat and steadying yourself on the ground. “Green tea shots?” The girls hoot and holler back to you, as you turn on your heels towards the crowded bar. 

Joel gets up, almost looking panicked, when he sees that you’re leaving your group. He downs the rest of his beer and tips his head towards Tommy, as if to ask, “another?”. Tommy nods and sits back in his chair, continuing to observe. Joel makes a beeline, able to slide right beside you in line.

You can smell the cologne and laundry detergent on his clothes while he stands behind you, shuffling on his feet. You can almost feel his nerves, radiating off of his large form. 

He can smell your perfume and shampoo, it’s intoxicating. 

Joel is served first, the bartender leaning forward to listen to his request. “Two Buds, and uh,” you feel a soft hand on your shoulder. If you couldn’t see that it was him, someone would have a black eye.

“What are you drinkin’, darlin’?”

His voice is sweet like honey as he dips down to be so unbelievably close to your ear, his hand now on the side of your arm. Heat spreads up your neck at his proximity. 

“Oh, I’m getting like 4 shots, you don’t have to-“

“What kinda shots?”

“Uh, green tea. Green tea shots.”

“And four green tea shots.”

The bartender nods as Joel slides his cash across the bar, turning, and looking down at you slightly. You feel impossibly small in that moment.

“You really did not have to do that, thank you.” You’re on your tip toes, a hand pressed against his chest now, lips as close to his ear as you can get. 

He shivers. He can’t remember the last time someone was this close to him in this way. 

“No problem,” he waves it off, taking the two beers by the neck of the bottle and moving over slightly for you to grab the shots. 

Your ass brushes across the front of his jeans, and he knows it’s intentional.

“Thanks again for the drinks,” and you’ve disappeared back into the crowd in a second.

Oh. Nevermind.

He can’t help but feel a little dejected, slinking back to his seat with Tommy and passing him his beer. “Struck out, huh?”

“Shut up.”

Joel watches your table still, annoyed, but not entirely surprised. Pretty stupid of him to think you’d want to fraternize with a man such as himself, so much older than you. Maybe he’d come off too strong?

His head is all but hanging in his hands when he watches you get up again, your friends coming along with you. He averts his eyes in embarrassment, not noticing that you’re making your way over to his table.

Tommy notices.

“Ladies!” He draws out, hands thrown up in the air. Joel looks up then, locking in eyes with you immediately.

“Didn’t think I’d leave you hanging, did ya cowboy?” A smile tugs at his lips as you extend a hand to him. “After you were so nice?”

He laughs a little, your other friend taking a hold of Tommy and pulling him towards the crowded dance floor. He’s very easily persuaded.

“Come dance with me!”

“Oh, I’m not a dancer,” he laughs, warm and honeyed. It makes heat pool in your core.

“Neither am I. Come anyways.”

All he can do is obey, taking your hand and letting you lead him away from the table. 

~

The music pulses under your feet as you end up in a tight line, shoulder to shoulder. He can’t stop looking at you, leaning down to speak into your ear. 

“I wasn’t kiddin’ when I said I didn’t know how to dance,” he explains, and his breath is hot against the curve of your ear.

“Don’t worry, you’ll get it when we start goin’. Just follow me.”

And I saddle up my horse

And I ride into the city

I make a lot of noise

Cause the girls

They are so pretty

Joel’s eyes are parked on your body as you start to move along to the steps of the line dance, feet tapping against the hard wood of the floor beneath you. Your hands are up by your face, clapping along to the beat. He tries to follow along, at least stepping in the right direction, clapping at the right time, but it’s no use.

Your body is insatiable - hips rolling to the pounding music. The curves and lines of your ass, paired with the soft tissue of your breasts nearly busting out of the top you chose to wear. Your skin is supple, shining against the dance floor lights that are favouring him right now as he lets a red blush engulf the skin of his cheeks and neck. 

He wonders what it looks like underneath, peeled off and bunched up around your ankles, or thrown on the floor of his bedroom. He thinks of fingering the ties of your shirt, loosening them and pushing it off, his hand across the front of your throat as he makes you look at yourself. How pretty you are. Goosebumps spread across the exposed skin of his arm.

You grab his hand suddenly, and he’s taken out of his daydream. Your eyes are fiery as you let yourself get even closer to him, feeling bold enough to put his hand across the small of your back.

“Follow me,” you command, as he looks down at the footwork you’re doing along to the song.

Riding up and down Broadway

On my old stud Leroy

And the girls say

Save a horse, ride a cowboy!

He attempts to follow it again, egged on by the feeling of your hot skin against his thumb. He could honestly maybe cum just from this touch alone if he really tried.

It’s not actually as hard as he thought, if he concentrates. A few steps, repeated over and over again, until it comes naturally. You notice how easily he picks it up, smiling up at him, beaming up while he’s lost in thought. 

The song picks up, and the whole floor is enthralled by the dance. You see Joel’s smile light up the room, and he hasn’t dared to move his hand from your back. You don’t mind.

When your body turns toward his, he halts before almost running into you, still following the steps along to the song.

“Do you wanna get out of here?”

Your words take him by surprise, but they are not unwelcome. 

“Yes.” His hand envelops yours as he takes a look at Tommy, seeing that he’s still in the throws of the song with your friends.

Your hand leads him off the dance floor and towards the club bathroom, but he stops you, lips close to your ear again. “My truck is parked out back, if we want, a little more, um,” he clears his throat, “privacy.”

“Show me the way,” you smile, letting him pull you out the doors and into the darkness of the parking lot. 

He fishes for his keys nervously when you get to the side of his truck, an older model with blue paint. He can’t remember the last time he did anything like this, if he ever has, and it’s getting to his head.

“Let’s get in the back seat,” you say, taking him out of his trance. “Wanna feel you.”

He lets you in first, pushing across the bench seating as he slides in beside you. There’s a moment of awkwardness, before your hand reaches out to touch his denim-clad thigh. His breath hitches.

“Relax,” your smile is intoxicating to him, and he’s drinking you in. “We’re just here to have a little fun.”

He lets himself lurch forward, your lips pressed against his fervently. They’re rough and chapped, but cold from the beer he’d been nursing earlier, offering you some reprieve. 

Your hand snakes up his chest to the side of his throat, pulling him in to come closer and delve deeper. His tongue comes out to lick across your teeth and press against the soft wetness of your tongue, as his hand comes up to palm your breasts over your top, grabbing at any flesh he can get his fingers on. 

He quickly and deftly finds the bow Maddy had tied on the back, pulling it loose and letting the fabric relax so you he could pull it off of your form.

His hands began to explore the soft skin of your breasts, sucking a nipple into his mouth as you arch into him and let a strained moan come from your lips.

“Fuck,” is all you can think to say, because his large hands are spread across your back, forcing you closer, and into him. Soft moans escape your lips as you let him take what he needs from you.

“Off,” he commands suddenly, hooking his fingers into the belt loops of your jeans and yanking them down, after you pop the button and undo the zipper. Your boots have come off at some point in the tussle, and now you’re naked in the back seat of a stranger’s car with not much to say for yourself.

You push his flannel down his shoulders as his weight hovers over you, revealing how strong he really is. Rippling biceps beneath his tight shirt, strong chest, kind eyes. 

You’re lying beneath him, when his hands come up under your thighs to push them apart and expose your pussy to him. He kneels between your soft thighs, thankful for the dark night sky around him, as he delves into your heat with his warm tongue.

You see stars when he makes first contact, a broad stripe of his tongue sending you into space. He’s hungry for it, immediately suckling onto your clit and wrapping his lips around it, strong hands still pushing your thighs apart. He’s taking his time to taste you, wild and intricate, feeling the bulge in his jeans strain against the zipper.

“Oh, fuck,” you manage to get out, in between breathless moans. Your hand came down to tangle in his hair, feeling the soft locks between your fingers, enjoying the way he’s making your hips roll onto his face. You can’t help but rut against him, soaking his wet mouth with your slick, using him to get yourself off.

He’s moaning into your pussy, working his own now-free cock in one of his hands, while the other delves two fingers into your core. Your breath catches in your throat when he fills you, stretching you open and wide for him, hitting the perfect spot to make your stomach start to spasm as you threatened to unravel beneath him.

“Fuck, so good, so so good,” you laugh breathlessly, the ecstasy beginning to take over as he continued to work your pussy, and you felt the familiar white-hot feeling along the back of your thighs.

“I’m gonna, — oh my god,” you couldn’t even finish your sentence before he was tonguing at you harder, eyes flickering up to watch you. “I’m gonna fucking come.”

“Good girl,” he growls into you, only offering you momentary reprieve from his tongue before using the rest of his energy to help you ride out your orgasm on his face. Your hips bucked and spasmed against him, the windows fogging up with your hot breath as you fucked yourself on his fingers. He let you pull on his hair as moans tumbled from your lips, breathless and spent.

When you managed to come down, he took his fingers from inside you and pumped his cock a few times, now bobbing in between the two of you as he slid himself up your body to kiss up your chest and capture your soft lips into a kiss.

“Sit back,” you whispered, pushing on his chest to bring him back sitting upright. His jeans were pooled around his ankles now, and you had pulled his t-shirt over his head to meet the other clothes on the floor of the truck. You positioned yourself across his lap, pumping his cock a few times and feeling the girth around your fingers.

He looked blissed out, head against the headrest, savouring the feeling of your pretty hand around him. If he looked down between your two bodies he might come right then, at the sight. 

“You did so much work, baby,” you coo, sitting down on his thick cock and bottoming out immediately, just to watch his lips fall open and eyes flutter close at how tight you are. “Made me cum so easy.”

Your lips latch onto his neck as you kiss and lap at the rough skin, letting your hips rock back and forth, slowly at first. Getting used to his length inside of you would’ve been tough if he hadn’t opened you up so easily beforehand. 

“Move,” his hands come to your waist, lightly forcing you to grind down on his lap. His cock was hitting inside of you so perfectly as you swallowed him into your body, looking down as his head lulled back against the seat. “So fuckin’ pretty,” he started, letting you set the pace of your hips, hand coming up to paw at your breast once more.

“You like this cock, don’t you?” You nod, letting your hand come to the seat behind his head and steadying yourself before beginning to bounce in his lap. “Yeah, fuck, yeah I do.”

He’s in his element now, any and all shyness from the newness of the situation melting away as he pounded into you mercilessly. The truck was no doubt shaking back and forth a little, a steadying hand print the only window to the outside world. Joel didn’t even care if people could see, they’d just be jealous.

“I’m gonna, fuck-,” he starts, eyes cloudy at the edges, vision fuzzy as he looked up at you. You were fucked out, cock-drunk on him, watching as he was coming undone underneath you as you squeezed around him. “Oh yeah?” You tease, not letting up on the rhythm of your hips, his hand coming down to your ass in a firm slap.

You moaned then, arching your back into him and sitting back. “Where do you want me?”

He’s desperate to cum now. Even the thought of your pretty face beneath him, taking his hot ropes on your soft pink lips is making him jerk forward into you with need.

He pushes you off, and you wince from the loss of contact. He’s fisting his cock above you right away, pink tip ready to explode any second at the sight of you, tits pressed together. Your mouth is open, and he sticks his fingers in between your lips as you moan around them, tasting yourself.

“Cum all over me,” you start, pinching your nipples with your free hand. “Fuck, I want it.”

It’s enough for his knees to buckle and hot cum to shoot all over your stomach and tits, painting you white with his seed. His eyes squeeze shut as you watch him ride his orgasm out, balls emptying onto you as he slows down and regains consciousness, taking a second to drink you in when he can open his eyes again. 

Your breath is heaving as you take a finger to swipe some of his cum onto your finger, dipping the digit into your mouth. His brows furrow together as he pulls you up to kiss your lips, devouring you, hands coming up to each side of your face as if to thank you for such a good time.

“Been a while since I did anything like that,” he laughs, and you follow shyly. “You got like, a napkin?” You giggle, as he grabs something in the front seat for you to clean up with. “Thanks. That was fun.”

He nods in agreement, catching his breath before pulling his t-shirt over his head. “I suppose we should go back in there,” he checks his appearance in the rearview mirror, all blushed and fucked out. 

You put your top back on over your body, turning towards him. “Can you lace me back up, please?”

His hands begin to work at you, tightening a bow at the bottom much like it had been done before.

A thought crossed your mind that made a giggle escape your lips. “What?” Joel asked, amused, pulling his jeans back on over his hips. 

“I don’t think I ever got your name.”

He laughs too, thinking of the events that had transpired given neither of you knew such a basic piece of information. 

“I guess we can stick with cowboy.”

[fake-bleach]

feels so right | dbf!joel miller x reader

summary: Your college boyfriend's a dick, and it doesn't help that he dragged you along with him to a bar just to treat you like shit. You plan on catching a ride home after an incident between you two, but turns out that your dad's best friend's there too, and he saw everything. He ends up offering you a ride instead, but there's no promises that you make it back home for the night.

word count: 9.9k (yeah i went overboard oops..)

warnings/disclaimers: (18+ only!) fem!afab!reader (no use of y/n), this might be the filthiest smut i've ever written, porn w/ plot, reader has a horrible/mean bf, prolly unrealistic car sex but idc, joel can carry reader, thigh riding, praise/degrading, kinda mean joel, oral (m receiving), deepthroating/facefucking, use of pet names (honey, sweetheart, baby, girl, etc), piv, unprotected rough sex, bit of a size kink, joel's hugeee, spanking, bit of choking, creampie/coming inside, literally all that good filthy shit lolll, lil cheesy ass ending

btw this can be for both game/hbo!joel cus i had them both in mind while writing <3

ao3 link | masterlist

Music fills your ears as you take a sip of your drink, sitting on an uncomfortable stool by the bar you were at.

Your boyfriend dragged you here with him, but not out of the kindness of his heart, no. You had made plans with him to spend some time together; to stay in and watch a movie, in hopes that it'd somehow heal your declining relationship, and he thankfully agreed.

That was weeks ago now, and here you were; stuck at a bar with the rest of his friends all because he forgot about his plans with you and insisted that he'd spend the night with the ones he sees more often than you.

It was either you or them, and in his eyes, it was always them.

"Fuck, babe! If you wanna be with me so fucking bad, just come with me— since you won't get off my fucking ass if you don't. Jesus Christ, I mean, you'd think I'd be able to spend one fucking night with my friends.. So fucking clingy."

His words rung in your ears as your eyes got lost in the remaining alcohol in the glass in your hand, slowly swirling it around with dread filling your face and entire being. You knew your boyfriend wasn't the best guy in the world, but you loved him at one point, and your heart clung onto the hope that he would start to actually love you back.

You should've known that your hopes would never be enough.

Snapping yourself out of it, you lift your head up to turn and look at him, his fourth glass of whiskey nearly empty, not giving a single fuck about you. No, his focus was always on his friends.. always on the shit that he prioritized over you.

You could only take so much.

Lifting yourself up from the stool, your feet reach the ground as you make your way over to him, tapping his shoulder to get his attention. Nothing. Again, you tap him even harder, and he finally notices you for the first time in the 30 minutes you've been there.

"What the fuck? What do you want now?" He asks you, scoffing as he whips his head to turn to you.

You gasp at him, mouth open as you stare at him in disbelief. "What the fuck do I want? I want you to fucking pay attention to me, you asshole! Have you even thought about me the entire time we've been here at all?!" You exclaim harshly, your heart racing as your anger rises.

He just shakes his head at you, the annoyance in his face incredibly evident as his friends laugh faintly at the scene in front of them. He doesn't even attempt to apologize to you, the tone in his voice cruel as he scolds you, "I never even fucking wanted you here in the first place, and you didn't get the damn hint. Not my fucking fault, babe."

He turns his body to look back at his friends, completely avoiding you and the situation, and clearly not giving a shit to fix it. Your anger gets the best of you, reaching for his shoulder to harshly pull it back so he could just look at you, but he grabs your wrist, squeezing it tightly as he drags your body to him.

Your face is just inches away from his now, gasps coming out of your mouth as his grip tightens. "Don't you ever fucking touch me like that again.. Get the fuck out of here, bitch." He berates you, his breath oozing of booze as he shoves your wrist to push you away from him.

Your eyes fill with tears as you back away from him, your hand reaching to your wrist to soothe it, rubbing it softly. You glance around the room, embarrassed at what had just occurred. Eyes from all around the bar are on the two of you now, but there's a pair that immediately catch your eye.

Joel.

Your dad's best friend, and the man who practically watched you grow up right in front of his eyes.

His gaze is hard on you, face filled with growing anger as he watches what your dickhead of a boyfriend just did to you. Your face grows cold as you stare at him, eyes flickering from his face to the floor as you grip your bag, not wanting to have him confront you. You were embarrassed enough.

You glance back at your boyfriend one last time, a slight frown fixed on your lips as you rush out the door, gasping for air while your teary eyes pace around your surroundings. Frantically pulling your phone out of your bag, you open the Uber app, wanting to get a ride home and out of here as soon as you could.

"Honey? You alright?"

Your body jumps slightly as you turn your head to stare at the source of the voice, eyes fixed to recognize Joel, his face filled with concern and his gaze now soft on you. You swallow as you breathe out, wiping the tears that were just about to fall from your eyes.

Gaining the courage to speak, you choke out faintly, not wanting to reveal your emotions to him. "J-Joel, I— Yeah, I'm okay.. it's okay. Sorry you had to see that, I.. didn't know you came here.."

You turn your head to stare back down at your phone, weak fingers trying their best to tap on the buttons to get you a driver here as soon as possible.

Joel's hand just reaches over the ones gripping onto your phone, slowly pushing them down and away from your focus to make you look up at him. His eyes are gentle and warm, boring into yours.

"Don't do that, sweetheart.. I've known y'long enough to know that it isn't," His soft words soothe you, looking down at your somber face, "C'mon.. Why don't y'let me take you home? Let's get you outta here.." He offers, moving his hand behind the small of your back to guide you wherever his truck was parked.

You sniffle and nod as you give into his generosity, knowing that you just wanted and needed to be cared for right now, whether or not it was just by Joel's benevolence.

His stare is fixed on you as the two of you make your way to his truck, feeling a sense of responsibility and urge to protect you. You were the loveliest girl he's ever known in his entire life, and it appalled him at how you could be with an asshole like that.

Walking up to the passenger side with you right behind him, he opens the door up for you, gesturing you to get in. "C'mon, honey.. There y'go.." He whispers out, gently shutting it behind you once you're securely inside.

Joel gets in the driver's seat now, putting his seatbelt on after you as he turns the engine on, putting the car in reverse to get out of there, knowing that you probably wanted to leave the area as fast as possible.

Silence fills the space between you as the only sound that can be heard are the tires on the road, making you gulp softly. You then glance at him, clearing your throat and licking your drying lips, "I.. I promise, he's not always like that, Joel.. He's a nice man.. I—"

Your voice fails you as you finish, the uncertainty in your tone not even convincing yourself. You're lying straight through your teeth, and Joel knows it too.

He lets out a heavy scoff, shaking his head as his eyes focus on the road in front of him. Glancing at you, he chuckles, "Right.. A 'nice man', huh?" He starts, making you turn away from him to look down at your lap, fidgeting with your fingers, "A 'nice man' wouldn't do that to you, honey.. Seems to me you've never felt how a real man should treat ya."

Your head turns to look at him quickly, scoffing back at him as you look at him, shocked. You don't even know why you're bothering to defend your shitty boyfriend, but for some reason, you wanted to prove to Joel that you were mature enough to make the right decisions.. to be with the right man.

"You don't even know him, Joel.. I.. I was being clingy, alright? He wanted to hang out with his friends instead of me tonight and I insisted I went too! You.. you'd act like that too if you were ever with me.." You tell him, your voice growing small towards the last part of your little speech, self-deprecation filling your mind along with your boyfriend's words.

It doesn't seem to make Joel any happier, making him suddenly pull over to the side of the road, putting the car in park. He huffs, removing his seatbelt as you follow his movements. Pausing to take a moment to try and compose himself, he finally looks at you, mouth open in disbelief. "You think I'd act like that if I were in his position? Think I'd fuckin' push you away like that? No, honey, god, no— you've got it all wrong."

You swallow as you stare at him, eyes confused and trying to understand what he was implying. He turns away from you for a moment, licking his lips as he breathes in sharply. "No fuckin' man right in the head would ever push you away like that, sweetheart.. No, he's a fuckin' boy who won't even cherish such a.. pretty girl like you."

Joel shakes his head, taking that pause between his words to look at you up and down, exhaling hard as he puts his fist to his face, his arm resting on the side of his window. He just stares back out through the windshield, your body stuck in place, breath hitching as you process it all.

"The hell would your dad think.. f'he ever saw that, huh? Boy's damn lucky I didn't do shit to him.. Lucky I didn't fuck m'up." He exclaims, scoffing softly as he looks at you for a moment.

Your chest rises as you breathe in softly, mind racing to figure out what to say. Your stomach is filled with faint butterflies from Joel's words, yet you knew that he'd never possibly think of you that way. He was just trying to comfort you.. right?

Your eyes are set on your lap, pausing before stuttering out, "Look, Joel.. I get it, you've known me my whole life, but I know what I'm doing. I'm not some dumb little girl anymore.." You finish, lifting your head to look at him, hoping that he'd finally believe you.

Joel's always treated you the same way he has when you were a kid, and it always frustrated the hell out of you. It's no doubt that Joel was an attractive man; you realized that when you were in high school, especially when your friends would come to your house to gawk at him at parties and family gatherings. You weren't blind, but you knew your attraction for him would get you nowhere.. not when he saw you the same way all these years.

At least, to you.

His head finally turns to you, eyes set on yours now, "You're a big girl now, huh.. s'that right? Y'gonna tell me that when you're with an asshole like that?" He chuckles out, cocking his head as he shakes it, "Thought you were better than that, baby.. That you'd actually give yourself to someone who deserves you.."

"Guess you're still that dumb little girl."

His words sting, making your eyes harden with your lips pressed tightly together. You scoff at him, tone harsh and direct, "The fuck do you want from me, Joel? What, y'want me to give myself to a real man like you?" spewing out the words without even giving it a second thought.

He immediately spits out what he's been thinking the entire time, nodding his head almost condescendingly as he inches his face closer to yours, "Yeah, that's what I fuckin' want. Maybe it'll knock some damn sense into that dumb head of yours, huh?”

You grit your teeth, heart thumping out of your chest as you rasp out, "You wouldn't even have the fucking guts, old man," but you knew damn well that you craved it. Craved him and the endless possibilities of what he could do to you. Breathing heavily, you can't deny the slick growing against your folds and through your panties.

Joel just grins at you, his gaze never leaving yours, "S'that right, honey? M' just some.. old man to you?" He snickers, his tongue poking out of his cheek for a moment, "Y'think I never noticed you all these years? Never heard you and your lil' friends talkin' about me?"

You gulp as your lick your drying lips, face softening while your heart races. Shaking your head to deny his accusations, your body freezes at the realization that he knows.

"Yeah.. you're not so slick, baby. Could see you watchin' me all these damn years.. Tellin' everyone how much you want me.. Y'can deny it all you want, sweetheart, but I see right through you. Right through this act."

He smirks as your eyes dart to the floor to avoid his stare, head tilting down as you fidget with your hands. Your body grows cold as you shake your head softly, denying the fact of the matter.

Joel's hand reaches up towards your face, his thumb and index finger lifting your head to look up at him, gripping onto your chin. "Ain't that right?" He chuckles out, making you turn your head to look away from him again nervously, but he doesn't let that slide.

He tuts his tongue, shaking his head as his grasp on your chin tightens just enough to have a firm grip on you, forcing you to look right at him. "No, no, don't do that, honey.. Look at me." He demands, your eyes finally staring into his own. You clear your throat, body shaking slightly as your adamant arousal for him increases.

You begin to stutter out, gulping, "J-Joel..", but he just cuts you off, implicit and direct with his intentions.

"Y’gonna let me fuck some sense into you, baby? That what you want? You’re about a second away from begging me for it, I fuckin’ see it. Can practically smell it off you, too." Joel spits out, his tone cocky and hitting directly to your core as he glances down at your thighs clenching together, “N’ look at you here..”

He chuckles out, removing his fingers from your chin to glide them down to your trembling thighs, his fingers almost pressing into the crevice that your thighs were pressed so tightly together to create. He wets his lips as his dark gaze glances back up to your face, whispering out desperately, "Tell me you want this, honey.. Tell me n' I'll make you forget all about your lil' boyfriend."

You breathe out through your mouth heavily, lips falling a bit open as your mind races. You've thought about this moment for so long now, and you could finally have it..

Fuck it.

Wetting your lips, you quickly put them on Joel's, desperation seething out of you as your eyes shut tightly. You moan into the kiss, Joel groaning into it too as he reaches his hands for your waist, gripping onto it tightly. He almost lifts you up, gesturing for you to get on top of his lap, needing to be close to you. You just follow his request, lifting yourself up from the passenger seat to fall into his lap and straddle his waist, immediately whimpering at the feeling of his bulging crotch pressing into your panties.

You had hoped that wearing a dress tonight would be a good choice, and you were right.

Breaking away from the kiss, the two of you gasp for air, breathing in heavily as you stare at Joel with delirious eyes, nearly high off the taste of him. He just smirks at you, reaching for your cheek to hold onto it, caressing it softly. "Bout' fuckin' time, baby.. Thought you'd never get the hint." He pants out, bringing your face close to press a dirty kiss on your lips, his tongue pushing against yours.

Your impatience gets the best of you, gripping his broad shoulders with your hands as you gain enough leverage to grind your core against his crotch, moaning loudly at the friction. You can already feel how huge he is, your cunt throbbing at the thought of it stretching you out.

His eager hands move down to grip your ass, moving you exactly how he wants, pressing you down onto him even harder. His lips break away from yours, groaning out, "Fuck, baby.. Fuckin' sexy, look at you.." He says, his gaze on your desperate face and glancing down at your hips and crotch grinding against him, "Shit.. That's it.. Pretty girl like you knows how to move."

You whimper at his words, growing wetter at the rough control he has on your body, and you love it. You can't help but let out little gasps, the desire you have for him increasing every time your bodies press together, making you crave his cock even more with each second that passes.

"F-Fuck.. need you, Joel, please.." You whine out, making his eyes flash up at yours as he chuckles, gripping onto your ass even tighter. He just shakes his head, saying, "No, baby.. Y'gonna take what you need from me right here. Wanna s'ya drench my thigh.."

"You do that f'me.. come all pretty & put on a lil' show for me? Maybe I'll give ya what y'want.." Joel mutters out to you, his lips just inches away from yours as he stares into your eyes, filled with lust and an intense ache for you. He wants to savor your body as long as he possibly can.

You nod your head quickly, biting your lower lip gently as you move your legs wrapped around him to sit in between one of his large thighs, moaning out once the rough fabric of his jeans hits your throbbing cunt.

You're soaked through your panties at this point, and you don't waste a second chasing your release. Your hips slowly start to move back and forth, grinding against his thigh as you whine. Licking your lips, you pant out, stuttering out his name repeatedly as your body does all the work for you. You're not even thinking at this point; your mind's completely gone blank and focused on one thing.

"That's it, honey.. Keep goin'.. Pretty lil' thing's so needy." Joel lets out, a low groan coming out as he watches your desperate face, staring right back at him with heavy eyes. It makes his cock grow even harder, knowing that he's finally got you like this.

His hands move to grip your hips, guiding them faster as they move to your ass, squeezing it harshly as a low chuckle escapes his throat. You gasp out at the touch, encouraging you to grind down on him even faster, stimulating your swollen clit as you cry out at the feeling.

Heat flows down to your cunt and lower stomach as your climax slowly begins to build up inside of you, and it's almost like Joel can feel it. Feeling how close you are, with your soaked pussy and slick drenching his jeans and thigh.

Just like he wanted.

One of his hands lifts up to smack your ass, an unrelenting force making you whine out at the sudden strike. It sends butterflies to your stomach and a sharp jolt to your core, forcing a moan out of you and a whine of his name on your tongue.

"Sorry, baby.. Y'got such a nice ass, been waitin' so long to do that.." Joel admits, letting out a faint laugh at your response to him. He cocks his head to the side and looks up at you, mouth slightly gaped open as his tongue plays with his cheek, "Ever knew how fuckin' hard you made me? Skimpin' around with your lil' dresses and shorts, passin' me like you knew what you were doin'. Y'never noticed how I'd.. turn my fuckin' head everytime you walked past me, baby.. Glancin' back at it so I could fuck my fist to the thought of you every night.."

"Fuck, fantasized about this fuckin' moment for so long now.."

Another blow of his large hand to your ass hits you unexpectedly, making you shake above him, your hips never slowing. You bite your lip as you look down at him, hands gripping his body to keep your strength. Butterflies fill your stomach as you hear his confession, making you groan.

Your breaths speed up as your climax increases, jaw falling open as you reply to him, "Did.. Did that on purpose, Joel.. Wanted you to look at me, to want me.. Didn't think it worked, fuck— touched myself all the time cus' of you.."

Your confession goes straight to Joel's cock, making him groan out at your dirty words, his fingers ingraining themselves into your ass as he moves your hips how he wants, wanting to push you to the edge already.

"Oh, it worked, honey.. Fuckin' gorgeous girl like you, what'd make y'think it didn't? I'd be a damn fool.." He grunts out, tone low right in your ear as you whimper, your clit growing incredibly sensitive as you grow even closer. "Y'gonna come for me, baby? Feel how fuckin' soaked you are f'me.. You're shaking.. Know y'can do it, come for me, sweet girl.. S'what you wanted this whole time, huh?" Joel encourages you, his hands moving from on top of your dress to underneath it, squeezing your bare ass with just your tiny panties barely covering yourself.

The direct contact of his rough hands on your flesh has you gasping out, the sudden coolness of your skin from his hot hands creating the perfect mix. You just nod your head eagerly as you stare into Joel's eyes, biting your bottom lip the more your aching cunt grinds on him. You stammer out, eyes hazy, "Mhm, f-fuck, Joel.. M'gonna come, p-please.."

Joel just smirks as he stares at your worn out face, nodding his head to encourage you. Sliding his hands down closer to your clothed pussy, his fingertips glide across your lips, your slick coating through your panties and onto his fingers. The feeling of it makes you hiss out as Joel whispers out to you, "Gonna give you what you need, baby.. C'mon now, let me see you.. Come for me now, be a good girl.."

Those words were the final push that you needed, making your cunt clench tightly around nothing, wishing that it was Joel's cock instead. You shut your eyes as you cry out, hands gripping onto Joel's body even tighter as he coos, whispering filthy, encouraging words into your ear while his hands help you chase your release. His hands on your ass begin to slow down, finally letting the weight of your hips rest on his thigh as your climax ends, the fast thumping in your chest slowing.

Breathing heavily, you let out small pants, chest rising up and down as you open your eyes to look at Joel. You give him a tired smile, giggling softly at the state you were in, and Joel grins back up at you, moving his hands up to hold onto your face. He presses a firm kiss on your lips, relishing the taste of you on his tongue. Breaking away from your lips, his thumbs caress your cheeks, looking into your eyes, "Did so good, honey.. Y'wanna return the favor? Prove to me that you deserve more?"

Your eyes widen at his words, nodding your head desperately as you lick your lips, hoping that he's implying what you thought he was. To be sure, you eagerly ask him, "O-Of course, Joel.. What d'you want me to do? Anything you want.."

Joel's lips curl up, grinning at the tone in your voice as he drags one of his hands down to yours to grab it. Guiding your hand, your palm reaches to his hard cock all pent up against his tight jeans, making you gasp out as a deep groan escapes his throat.

"Feel that, baby? Need your lips wrapped around me.. Y'gonna do that for me?" Joel mutters out to you, his gaze dark and set on you completely. Your breath hitches in your throat at his request, and the thought of the mere act makes your mouth water, making you nod your head quickly. "Yeah, fuck, I wanna do that for you.. Been wanting it for so long, Joel.." You admit to him, this time using your hand to squeeze his bulge, feeling how much he really needed you.

He lets out a faint moan, nodding his head back at you as he smirks at your hand squeezing him so good. He questions you, "Wanted what for so long, huh? Wanna hear it, honey."

Your cheeks grow flushed at his words, gulping slightly and hesitating to respond as you look away from him, which just makes him urge you on even more. "C'mon now, you already came all over my fuckin' thigh, I know y'not gettin' all shy on me now, sweetheart.." He teases you, chuckling as he presses his hand to your face, gently squeezing it, but you know his intentions are clear. He has so much power over you; more than you even thought.

His big hands grip onto your face, forcing you to turn to look at him. It's filthy, and you can't help but love it. He nods at you, a final push, and you finally stammer out at him, throat dry, "Wanted your.. cock, Joel.. W-Wanted to suck your cock for so long— fuck, please, Joel.."

He just lets out a faint laugh and nods his head, releasing your face from his hands and patting your cheek as if he was proud of you. "That's it, honey, wasn't so hard now, was it?" He teases you, licking his lips as his eyes flicker to your own, imagining them around him already. "Let's go to the back, baby.. S'gonna be more comfortable that way."

You nod at him as his strong hold is back on you, lifting your hips gently to guide you towards the back. Once the two of you are back there, Joel's legs are laid out on the entirety of the backseat, his back leaning against the door while you're set in between him; the perfect position and view for him to watch you put on a show.

Joel seems to be impatient waiting for you to make your move, as he cocks his head to the side and stares at you. He questions, "What y'waiting for, baby? You're a big girl, aren't you? Don't need me to tell you what to do now, do I?"

You lick your lips nervously as you stare at him, giving him a small, anxious smile. It's not because you've never sucked cock before, but this was Joel, and you wanted it to be good for him. More than you've ever been with anyone else before, and especially your 'boyfriend'.

"N-No, Joel, I got it.." You respond to him, leaning your body closer as your hands reach for the zipper of his jeans. Unbuttoning them, you pull them down a bit with the help of Joel's hips lifting, and your eyes immediately latch onto his huge cock, bulging against his boxers.

You sigh out as your hands glide from his large thighs to his underwear, reaching underneath the hem of the fabric to grasp onto his cock, pulling it out. The mere sight of it makes your jaw fall open slightly, gasping and mouth watering at how thick he was. Fuck, he's the biggest you've ever seen. It made you a bit nervous, but so fucking aroused, as you feel the slick growing between your folds because of it.

Your reaction makes Joel chuckle, leaning his head a bit forward to get a better look at the expression on your face. He lifts his hand to press his fingers against your cheek, holding onto your jaw and caressing your cheek with his thumb. It makes you look back up at him as he questions you, "Too big for you, honey? You ever even sucked cock before?"

You gulp as you purse your lips, nodding your head slightly, "I.. Yeah, I have, but fuck— never this big, Joel.." You respond to him truthfully, your stomach filling up with butterflies of a mixture of nerves and arousal.

He grins at you, laughing a bit cockily, "Don't worry, baby.. Gonna take me real good, right? Make me proud?" He challenges you, the fingers placed on your cheek now sliding down towards your lips, gently pressing the tips of them right at the entrance of your mouth. "Let's start off with these, huh? Wanna see if y'can take em' like you're gonna take me.."

You whimper at his words that hit you right to your core, making you clench around nothing. You couldn't wait for him to fuck you already. You just nod your head slowly, eyes never leaving his as you gently open your mouth for him. Joel takes this as an invitation to continue, slowly moving his index and middle fingers in your mouth.

"Suck on em', baby.. Lemme see what y'can do.." Joel tells you, his head lifting up a bit as his dark gaze looks down at your lips. You just obey him, closing your lips around his fat fingers as he inches them further and further in your mouth towards your throat. Your tongue falls flat underneath his fingers, sucking on them gently as you lift your hands to hold onto his wrist.

Joel starts to grin at you, humming out in satisfaction as he encourages you, "There we go, pretty fuckin' lips.. Show me how you'd suck my cock, c'mon now.."

You moan around his fingers, both of your hands gripping onto his wrist as you use it to pull them out of your mouth, guiding them back in deep as if they really were his cock. You shut your eyes at the feeling of it, reaching further down your throat as you moan again. The taste of him is intoxicating.

Your eyes open back up to stare at him intently, and Joel gives you a light smile, making you feel that sense of pride that you've always craved from him. "Good fuckin' girl.. Shit, lookin' so good like this, baby.." He mutters out lowly, a faint groan coming out.

Before you can continue, he pulls his fingers out of your mouth, immediately making you feel empty. You whine out softly at your disappointment which makes him chuckle, reassuring you, "C'mon, honey— Think y'ready now. Make it good for me, yeah?"

You nod eagerly, wanting nothing more than to please him as much as you could. You lean a bit back, giving yourself a bit more room to get in the right position as your hands reach for his cock again. Wrapping a hand around him, you notice that he isn't even fully hard yet, and he's already so fucking big. It doesn't ease your nerves in the slightest, but the ache you feel for him in your cunt distracts you from it completely.

Lowering your head and body, your lips inch closer and closer to the fat head of his cock while your hand slowly strokes him up and down, trying to get him fully hard for your mouth to take him. You look up at him as your lips wrap around the tip of it, sucking onto it gently as you feel him finally harden in your mouth.

Your tongue does its work, circling around him and licking the tip of it while you suck, your eyes never leaving his as his own flicker all over your face; your eyes, your lips. Joel lets out a low groan, reaching over to your head to hold onto it to have some leverage to encourage you.

You slowly lower your head now, taking his cock deeper into your mouth as you moan around it, sending vibrations through Joel's entire body as he hisses at the feeling. "Fuck, that's it.. Deeper, baby, lemme see how much y'can take.." Joel's words fill your ears as you continue, your mouth barely able to take him all the way to the base.

His cock hits the back of your throat, making you gag at the sudden intrusion. Your eyes water as you blink, still staring back up at him to see that reaction on his face. You notice how it twists in pleasure, his eyebrows furrowing for a moment, and you lift your head back up to gasp for air, immediately lowering your lips back onto him so you don't waste any second that passes.

The noises that Joel makes are filthy, filling your ears and making them burn as your mouth never falters, jaw stretched out as wide as possible for you to take all of him. Joel's grunts become louder, and you take that as sign that you're doing things right, which makes your body fill with pride.

Closing your eyes, you relish the feeling of his heavy cock on your tongue, the fat tip of it letting out small spurts of pre-cum down your throat. The taste of him only makes you push your head down even further, attempting to take him all the way to the base, but he hits the back of your throat, making you gag out at the unexpected impact.

Before you can lift your head up, Joel's grip on your head tightens as he holds you there, his throat letting out low pants as he stares right at your lips connecting to the base of his cock. Groaning out, he laughs faintly, saying, "Take it, honey, doin' so good for me, f-fuck.."

Barely processing it all, he uses his other hand to slap your face almost condescendingly, and it just makes you moan around him, your throat clenching and eyes opening up to look at him. You didn't even know you liked that, but Joel's power over you has you nearly seeing stars.

Joel lets out a chuckle, all mean and teasingly, "Fuck, yeah.. Dirty girl, you like that shit?" He asks you, and you moan around his cock again, nose breathing in heavily for air as your eyes droop down a bit, nearly high off the feeling of him using your throat. Laughing out, a smirk appears on his face as his hand's grip on you pulls you back up for a moment so you can breathe properly.

Without him even having to encourage you, your mouth is back on him once you catch your breath, desperate to please him and taste his cock again. It makes Joel grunt out, snickering out at you, "Fuck, you're worse than I thought, baby.. You act so innocent, but you're takin' cock like s'all you're meant for.."

You hum against him, eyes looking back up as you take him deeper with your tongue flattening underneath his shaft, and it drives Joel crazy. He just hisses out, hand on your head once again, "Shit.. I'm right, ain't I? Pretty throat’s been craving this, huh? Lil’ boyfriend couldn’t satisfy you.. Thas’ okay, m’ right here now, honey..”

His words send a throbbing pang to your cunt, growing wetter at the thought of him and knowing that he's satisfying your needs more than your boyfriend ever could. It makes you realize that Joel was right; that he was the real man that you needed.

Joel's hands start to guide your lips now, moving your head up and down on him as he watches his cock disappear back down your throat over and over again. Your jaw falls slack as you let him use you just how he wants, eyes watering with tears threatening to fall as his thick cock continues to stretch your lips and throat so good.

The look on your face is nearly pornographic, your lips shaped tightly right around the girth of his cock as if it was a hole meant for him to fuck. The sight of you makes Joel's cock twitch, moaning lowly as he pants out, “What would y’family think if they saw you like this, honey? Lookin’ like a fuckin’ whore with my cock down your throat, like the fuckin’ slut you are. That’s just what you are, right, baby? A lil’ whore for me, s’that it? Gonna let me keep you.. fuck you when I want? Know that’s what you want..”

You just nod your head eagerly at him, eyes rolling to the back of your head at the sound of his nasty words, and it feels so fucked up knowing that it's turning you on so much. You've always imagined what it'd be like for Joel to just use you how he wants, imagining how it'd be like, and now it's finally happening.

Joel chuckles out at your response to him, and he grunts out as his climax builds up, unexpectedly pulling your mouth off of him as you gasp out for air. Your face looks confused and disheveled, but Joel assures you, "Don't wanna come just yet, baby, we got time for that later. Wanna be in you now."

Before you can respond to him, Joel leans in towards you, his hands reaching out for your body to move you how he wants. Grasping onto your sides, he lifts you slightly to turn you around, moving you to get on your knees to crawl and face away from him. Your body just follows his hands until he has you where he wants, getting onto your hands and knees, bent over for him to stare out the window.

Your breathing grows heavier, gulping softly as you turn your head to look back at him. Joel doesn't waste a second to immediately cherish the view in front of him, his hands now roaming from your calves right up to your thighs, savoring your skin on his fingertips that are now inching towards your aching core.

Your dress is the perfect length for him to see you completely; not too long and not too short, but it's too much coverage for Joel's liking anyways.

His hands move up towards your ass, instinctively pushing the fabric covering you up and over, resting it on your lower back so his view is right of your clothed cunt. Your wet slick has seeped through the light fabric, making Joel chuckle out as he stares right at it. His eyes make you blush, a bit of embarrassment filling your cheeks evidently as you look away from him for a moment.

He just glances up at you and grins, shaking his head at your reaction, "No need to get shy, baby.. S'hot, y'know that? Knowin' this pretty pussy's all soaked for me? Shit.." Joel lets out, laughing faintly as his stare returns back to your cunt, hands sliding back down to your ass. His thumb runs across your folds pressed so tightly together by your thighs, making you gasp and shiver out at the touch.

He moves his other hand now, index and middle finger sliding just beneath the side of your panties to get a good grip of it, pulling it to the side so he can see your throbbing hole and wet folds. It's a dirty scene right in front of him, but it has his cock twitching at the sight.

"Fuck, look at that.. Need me that bad, baby?" Joel whispers out to you, his eyes flickering up to your desperate face and back down. His stare and words make you whine out, your hole clenching around nothing as you swallow.

You do need him that bad, and you were getting impatient.

The action makes Joel sigh out, his thumb now sliding against your bare cunt and through your lips, gathering up how wet you were. His thumb now finds your entrance, pressing in just the tip of it as his eyes move back up to your face, eager to see your reaction.

You just moan out and clench around it desperately, eyes shutting for a moment as your heart races. "Fuck, Joel, just fuck me already, p-please.. Need it so bad.." You beg him, biting your bottom lip harshly as your wide eyes stare into his own.

He just licks his lips as he hears you, considering it for a moment. "Y'think you can take me like this, honey? Don't need me to do anything else? Might hurt.." He asks you, his concerns still evident despite the position you two were in.

You just nod your head at him quickly, whining out softly, "Yeah, fuck, I can take it, please— just need you, Joel.." Your chest rises as you breathe in heavily, wanting him to fuck you already.

Joel smirks at your pleads, the desperation getting the best of you, and it makes his cock even harder. He just nods up at you and removes his thumb from your cunt, shifting his knees and hips closer to your ass as he grips his cock with his hand.

He glides the tip of it up and down your folds, gathering the slick as much as he could. Pressing it against your entrance, he looks up at your face, his other hand gripping onto your hip as he slowly eases it into you. The stretch of him makes you hiss out, shutting your eyes at the intrusion and how big he is.

You stammer out, "F-Fuck, Joel.." as you pant softly, taking in deep breaths to let your walls relax and adjust to him as much as you could. He just grips onto your hip even tighter, giving you a sense of guidance and reassurance.

Joel's heart races at the feeling of your walls clench around him, feeling how tight you are. Grunting out, he pushes himself even deeper inside of you, still taking his time, "Good girl, baby.. Doin' so good, y'feel so good, shit.." He gasps out, his eyes now fixed onto the sight of his cock entering your stretched out cunt.

"Tight fuckin' pussy.. Haven't had one like this in so long, fuck.."

Your breaths speed up with each inch that fills you up, the girth of him creating a stinging ache between your thighs that were nearly trembling. The grasp your walls has on his cock makes it almost harder for him to move further, so he pauses— taking a second for you to adjust.

"You okay, honey? Doin' so good for me, such a sweet girl.." He murmurs out to you, almost panting out as he hisses out. His hands gently caress your lower back and ass, reassuring you as he bends over a bit to press small kisses on your skin. It makes you shiver, nodding your head in response to him, "M' okay, Joel.. Feels so good, p-please move.."

His heavy eyes look back up at you, acknowledging your request and smiling softly. It sends butterflies through your stomach at the thought of him caring so much about you, making sure that you were comfortable and enjoying yourself just as much as he was.

He presses one last kiss to your lower back, pressing his hands on it as he lifts himself back up. Gripping onto your hips, he nods at you and finally pushes himself all the way inside of your throbbing cunt, his hips now flushed against your own. The sudden movement makes you gasp out, your hands holding your body up attempting to squeeze onto the fabric of the seat.

"J-Joel!" You moan his name, eyes closing harshly at the feeling of the fat tip of his cock pressing so deep inside of you, making your involuntary walls constrict around him. It creates a burn in your lower stomach, your body growing hot at the feeling. It makes Joel grunt out, his neck lifting up for a moment to take a breath as he looks back down at your hips connected to his, hands caressing your skin.

He rocks his hips against yours, moving just slightly to get some friction as he allows you to adjust, groaning, "That's it, there y'go.. Knew you could take it, baby, fuck— Feelin' so good wrapped around me, s'it what you wanted?" He asks you, eyes flickering up at your face. Biting your lip, you nod, stammering out, "Mmphf— Y-You're.. so deep, shit, feels so good.."

He chuckles out, stare fixed on your worn out face as he pulls his hips back a bit, taking his time to thrust back into you as deep as he could. He wanted to prove to himself that what you were saying was true.

"S'that right, sweetheart? So deep? Y'feel me right here?" He asks, moving one of his hands just beneath your body and sliding it to your lower stomach, pressing harshly against it. It makes you gasp, feeling the bulge of his cock imprinting itself. You whine, breathing out, "O-Oh, fuck, Joel.. Yeah, feel you right there.."

He just grins at your response, muttering out, "That's fuckin' right, honey.. n' I'm the only one who's ever been this deep, huh?" He urges you on, head leaning a bit closer to you as his hips press tightly against your pussy.

You cry out, shutting your eyes for a moment as you nod, unable to fully form a coherent sentence for him. He just tuts his tongue, head shaking disapprovingly as he pulls his hips back all of the way, not taking a second to wait to slam himself back into you.

It makes you grunt, eyes shooting open as his words fill your ears, the slight mean tone in his voice making your face burn, "Asked you a question, baby.. So you tell me, your lil' boyfriend ever fuck you this good, honey? Fill this pretty pussy this deep?"

Your mind grows hazy, cheeks flushed as you attempt to spit out what he wants to hear, "N-No, Joel.. I, I-"

"No? No? C'mon, haven't even really fucked you yet n' you're already actin' so dumb.. S'that it, cock just make you all stupid for me?"

Tears fill your eyes as his hips pull and push right back into you again, giving you another thrust of his thick cock as you sob out, "J-Joel, shit, no, it jus'.. feels too good, p-please.." You moan, feeling the tight grip his fingers have on your ass nearly imprinting themselves into your skin.

"C'mon now.. Louder, baby, lemme hear it.. Tell me, wanna hear it loud n' clear.. Answer my question.." He pushes you, tone growing louder and strict. His thrusts begin to create an increasing rhythm that makes your jaw drop open at the feeling, his cock stretching your tight walls out with each push of his hips.

"No, Joel! N-Never.. never fucked me this good, oh fuck, never.. this d-deep.. shit!" You blurt out, mind barely thinking as you spit the words out. Eyes rolling to the back of your head, your brain and body goes numb, shuttering at the feeling of his unrelenting movements as your head hangs low, staring at your hands gripping the seat.

Joel's grunts and moans surround you completely as your ears begin to ring, his faint laugh and sudden smack of his hand on your ass snapping you out of it at the sting, "That's right.. pretty girl knows her place, fuck," He rushes out, suddenly grasping onto your hair to pull your head back, making you cry out, "Knew you'd be so good for me, honey.. Actin' like a fuckin' slut, takin' my cock this good.."

You breath out heavily, panting out as he holds back your head by his rough grip on your hair, pulling you back a bit to turn your head to try and get a look at him. His words make your pussy clench around him even tighter, turned on at his degradation.

You hum softly, whining as you nod your head gently, tears filling your eyes and threatening to fall as his pace grows even faster, now slamming into your cunt over and over again. He chuckles and grins at the slight sight of your eyes filling up, making him pout condescendingly at you.

"What? M' I wrong, honey? Y'gonna tell me you haven't been practically begging me to fuck you all these years? To treat you like this; like the slut you are, huh?" He taunts you, pulling his cock out all the way to rest against your entrance, and slamming it back in as deep as he could, "Know it's all you've wanted.. all you've ever fantasized about.. Y'don't gotta do that anymore, baby.. cus' I'm right here. Gonna treat you like the fuckin' whore you are.. That's what you are to me.. My fuckin' slut."

A tear finally falls down your cheek, making your lungs fill with air as you pant, mouth falling open and cunt convulsing around him. The tip of his cock keeps hitting the deepest spot inside of you, nearly making you blank out as his words make your cheeks flush. "J-Joel, I—"

Before you can stammer anything else out, Joel's grip on your hair now pulls your body up completely, making your back hit his strong chest, despite it being covered by his tight shirt. Your breath hitches in your throat, barely able to think as his sudden hand lets go of your hair and wraps it around your neck, holding your body right against him.

Keeping you still with the control he has, you moan out and flutter your eyes shut, body shaking and tightening up at him choking you. The back of your head lays on his shoulder, resting it there as he leans in close to your ear, whispering out, "Gonna ruin you for everyone else, baby.. Every time anybody else fucks you, you're gonna think of me; me and my fuckin' cock making you fall apart.. Y'gonna come runnin' back to me.. every fuckin' time— M' gonna make sure of it."

Your eyes open hazily, widening at his words as the grip he has on your throat suddenly pushes you away, making your chest and upper body fall down against the seat, arms not even having any power to hold yourself up. His hands and fingertips sink back into your lower back, now pressing your stomach flush against the seat as it creates an angle that makes you feel him deeper than you've ever felt before.

You can barely process it now, your mouth spewing incoherent noises and words as he holds you down, practically using you just how he pleases. Your hips pushed against the seat are constantly being driven by his thrusts, your pubic bone and sensitive clit being stimulated with each shove.

It makes your eyes shut tightly, unable to control yourself as you pant and moan out for him repeatedly, your hands shaking as you can barely get yourself to hold onto something. His cock buries itself inside of your throbbing cunt over and over again, Joel laughing at the squelching noises that your pussy was letting out.

Before he can say anything, a ring fills his ears that suddenly grab his attention, making his head turn as his movements slow just enough to grasp your attention to make you turn your head and look at the source too.

Your phone, laying on the middle compartment right next to Joel; he reaches for it and sees who's calling, making him grin and chuckle out.

Your boyfriend.

"Well, would y'look at this, honey? Talkin' about runnin' back.." Joel mutters out, turning the phone towards your direction for you to see it too. It just makes your eyes widen, cunt clenching as Joel tests you, "Why don't we let em' hear what you're up to, baby? See how much he's missin' out, huh?"

You know it's so fucking wrong; yet, so fucking right.

Joel doesn't even wait for your response, and just licks his lips and presses answer, putting it on speaker as he lays the phone flat against your back, lifting one of his hands on your hips to smack your ass. The force creates a loud spank, filling the phone's speakers as Joel's hips begin to move at a faster pace again.

It makes you mewl out, tears falling down your face again as your hands try to grip on the seat you were laying on. His grunts are loud and lewd, the snap of his hips smacking against your ass and thighs as he makes you take his cock repeatedly, "There y'go, just like that.." He mumbles out.

Your boyfriend's voice fills your ears now, confusion and the evident drunken tone making you roll your eyes, "The fuck? What was that, baby?"

Before you can even respond, Joel cuts you off, doing the job right for you.

"Y'don't gotta worry about her anymore.. M' takin' real good care of her now.. Ain't that right, baby?" Joel groans out, smacking your ass again as he leans in closer towards your back, nearly laying his chest against you. You just whine out in response, nodding your head quickly as Joel urges you further, tutting his tongue, "No, no, lemme hear it, honey.. Why don't y'tell him yourself? Let him know how good you're takin' my cock.."

Your body and face grows hot, licking your dry lips as you stutter, "F-Feels so g-good, Joel.. You're takin' such good care of me now, I—"

"What the fuck, babe? No, no, this can't be fucking happening."

Joel laughs loudly at your boyfriend's words, leaning his head closer to speak right into your phone, "Oh, but it is, boy. Not m'fault you couldn't fuck your girl this good. But, wait.. she isn't 'your girl' anymore now, is she?" He asks him, the arrogant tone spewing out as his voice lowers.

He reaches his hand over to your neck again, wrapping it around and squeezing it tightly as he ruts himself in you fast and hard, the pace and the hold of his fingers making you scream out his name.

"You fucking asshole, I'll fucking—"

Joel just cuts him off, sighing out annoyingly as he shakes his head, "Shut the fuck up. Don't you fuckin' call her again, much less lay a hand on her. You do that n' I find out?— I will find you. N' I'll make sure to break every bone in your fuckin' body, boy."

As your boyfriend gasps at his words, he begins to stutter some pathetic shit that Joel doesn't wanna bother hearing anymore; so he ends the call, tossing your phone to the side to focus back on you completely.

Shutting his eyes, Joel sighs out as he presses firm, yet gentle kisses to your back, his hips now going a bit slower, but deliberately harder so you can feel every inch of him, cherishing your tight cunt with each second that passes.

"There we go, honey.. Took care of that for you, y'don't gotta worry about him now, fuck— M' gonna make you feel so good.. y'won't need anyone else.." Joel whispers in your ear, laying his chest and body completely over your back as his entire being consumes you, his cock filling you to the brim with each push and pull.

His chin rests just below your shoulder now, grunting into your ear as he mutters filthy words into it, "That right, baby? M' I the only one you need? Gonna let me be the only one who can fuck this pretty little pussy? F-Fuck, please.. lemme hear it, shit— need to hear you say it.."

The pace of his movements start to speed up again as you stammer out, "Y-Yeah, Joel, you're the only one I need, fuck!" his cock twitching at your confession as you continue, "Only need you, only want your cock in me, please— need you to fill me up, make me yours, Joel.."

He moans at your words, panting out as he feels himself growing closer at your pleads, and you're right with him too. His cock hits that spot in your core over and over again, making you wail and sob out at the feeling of your stomach tightening and coiling, biting your lower lip harder to try and stop you from blabbering out.

"Don't do that, baby, no, wanna hear you— please, make those pretty lil' noises for me, honey, y'sound so pretty like this," Joel blurts out, unable to even think as he slams his hips against your ass, creating a sting that makes you lightheaded with your climax growing furiously, "Gonna make me come so deep inside you, baby, jus' like you want.."

His words hit something inside you, making you suddenly see stars as your pussy convulses around his cock, clenching and grasping onto him tightly as you come, your slick coating your thighs and his cock completely. Your body shakes and trembles as he fucks you through it, laughing faintly at your sudden orgasm. "Oh, fuck— there y'go baby, pretty fuckin' girl, take it.." Joel moans out, panting even louder and faster as he chases his own release.

You cry out, your cunt being overstimulated by his unrelenting thrusts as he buries himself even harder and deeper into you, making you spew out, "Shit, Joel! C-Come inside me, fill me up, please, please, need it so—"

Joel's loud grunts cut you off, feeling the sudden warmth of his come spill inside of you completely as he slams his cock in as deep as he can, making sure you feel every inch of him and his come. His hips rock into you, grinding his pelvis harshly to try and get even a fraction of him deeper inside of you. It makes you wince out, your sore cunt oversensitive at the feeling.

His body completely gives out on top of yours, his breaths filling your ears as you both take each other in, falling from your highs and trying your best to relax. You laugh softly as you process everything that's just happened, and Joel does the same, pressing small kisses to the back of your neck as his hand lets it go.

"Shit, honey— so fuckin' good.. You alright?" He mutters out, chuckling as you turn your head slightly to look at him, taking in your worn and fucked out face. You just nod your head at him, feeling a bit hazy as you smile, laughing out, "Yeah.. Never better."

Joel's eyes glimmer as he swallows, pushing aside the hair that was covering your face as he admires you, grinning softly at you, "Should've done this years ago.. Y'been holdin' back on me, baby." He murmurs out, his smile widening.

You press a small kiss to his lips, licking your own as you correct him, "Been trying to get you to for years, Joel.. not my fault it took this long." He just shakes his head amusingly, pursing his lips.

"Well.. Y'wanna stay with me for the night? Maybe I can teach y'another lesson on how a.. 'real man' should treat ya?" He proposes to you, laughing at his reference of what he said to you earlier and what started this in the first place.

You just smile at him and nod your head eagerly:

"Wouldn't want anything more."

-

a/n: kinda wanted to make joel threaten/hit reader's bf, but i figured joel's idea of revenge was so much sweeter <3

this is by far my fav fic i've written out of my 1st three, so i’d love some feedback from you all! ♥️

wanna be on a taglist? fill out the google form in my pinned post!

-

reblogs are appreciated!

send me requests & i might write it for you! :)

[stickandthorn]

These are very unsorted thoughts but. Ok I kind of get a surface level reaction to Beacon of “not another paid streaming service,” but I think that’s a pretty misplaced complaint. Firstly, the main show is still free on YouTube and Twitch, they aren’t paywalling formerly free content. Second of all, I don’t think you can emphasize enough just how restrictive and unstable YouTube and Twitch are as platforms. For any content creator, but especially a business which is trying to stand on it’s own, control where their money goes, and pay staff that rely on them. Those platforms are monetarily unstable, artistically suffocating, and what they allow/can do to you can change overnight and totally fuck you and years of your work over, and there’s nothing you can do about it. It’s a fucking guessing game to figure out what you’re allowed to do and how you can keep yourself monetized, and you’re always losing. From what I understand it’s a bit like being stuck living at your parents house. No matter how much you grow and change, there will always be restrictions on what you can do that suffocate who you are and control what you’re allowed to do.

For an artist or a company to be able to stand on their own, they should have their own space that doesn’t fall under another site’s rules. For the sake of their security as a business, for the sake of their freedom as artists to make content without censorship, and for the sake of deciding exactly where the money they make goes. Did I mention unstable again? YouTube or Twitch could just get nuked overnight, or choose to remove your channel and not give it back, or change guidelines that totally axes your content, and then where would you be? There’s a reason sites like Dropout and Nebula exist, these platforms do not support most of their creators. Obviously the cast had no idea what critical role was going to turn into when the show started, but once they became their own company, and especially once they started expanding, this was never going to be sustainable. CR creating something like Beacon is WILDLY different from HBO or some other network making another one word title streaming service and putting a bunch of content there. And yeah if CR started paywalling the main show I’d be fucking pissed. But they aren’t, they’re just taking control of the way in which people can directly choose to give them money, and making new content.

[antiyourwokehomophobia2]

There's something so funny about the fn*f creator (Scott) being an openly unapologetic pro life, republican, Trump supporter while still having big YouTubers play his games AND having a movie being made, meanwhile JKR is critical (not even doesn't support) of one thing and nobody can even talk about Harry Potter anymore. She wasn't even in the fucking anniversary special of her own goddamn series. Scott literally donated money to trump's campaigns. He is an open republican. I have heard zilch against his movie. Nobody is hating on Josh hutcherson for being in it. No YouTubers is being slammed for playing his game. It may as well be like it never happened. Meanwhile there are posts on here with thousands of likes talking about how if you so much as think about Harry potter then you're a bad person and should kill yourself. Everyone is bummed about the fact M*rk*pl*er won't be in the movie, meanwhile there are people who are giving earnest pleas not to hate on the children cast in the HBO version of HP. Why does nobody care? What fucking gives? What the hell is this? Scott literally openly supports Trump and he's more beloved than a democratic woman who thinks maybeeee taking people to court for saying 'sex is real' is a bit far? Why aren't fn*f fans labeled as bad people? Why isn't their support of fn*f seen as support of Scott and his views? The fuck is this double standard.

[marvelobsessed134]

Kill kill

This is part of my spooky summer series! You can find the masterlist in the pinned post on my profile!

Pairings: Serial Killer!Kate Bishop x Fem!Reader

Warnings: g!p Kate, fingering (f receiving), dom!kate, sub!reader, descriptions of violence, Kate is mentally unstable yall I cannot get enough of writing Kate as a complete psychopath <3

“The bow killer as they’ve been nicknamed due to bows and arrows being their preferred weapon, has begun terrorizing New York City. More after the break.” The news sounded from the TV. This damn killer has been everywhere recently. You sighed as you continued to cut strawberries up to eat as a little late night snack. Kate won’t be home till a little later she said she had something going on with work.

She has been gone late a lot more lately, which is suspicious but she provides for you and so, you choose not to question it. After cutting the strawberries you sat down at the couch and turned on HBO to watch one of your favorite horror flicks. Something to keep your mind off the very real murderer that’s on the loose.

In the middle of the movie the door to your shared apartment opened to reveal your sweaty and exhausted girlfriend. You furrowed your brows and paused the TV. “Where were you?” You asked. You didn’t want to sound insecure or anything like that but you couldn’t help it! She’s gone for three extra hours and comes home exhausted and sweaty like what!?

The raven haired girl paused for a moment, “At work. I thought I told you?”

“Yeah, I um forgot. Sorry.” She walked towards you and pressed her lips against hers. The kiss began to get more heated as she pushed you back onto the couch and got on top of you. You could feel her growing bulge against your leg making you whimper.

“You’re so pretty.” She whispered as she pulled her shirt off and undid her bra as well as doing the same to you. Kate toyed with your nipples and moved her hand down inside your sleep shorts and panties, playing with your wet core.

“Fuck Kate!” You moaned as you arched your back. “Cum for me baby, give me those sweet juices.” She growled.

As if on demand you felt yourself clenching around her fingers and you came inside your panties. “Naughty girl, cumming inside of her panties.” Your girlfriend chuckled before pulling her fingers out and sucking them dry. You then flipped her over, “Let me suck your cock?” You asked innocently.

“Fuck yes.” She muttered. You unbuttoned the fly of her jeans before pulling them down along with her boxers while you were mesmerized by her impressive length like always, you noticed a knife was tucked under the waistband of her boxers. It had a slip cover on it to cover the blade but there was…blood splattered on the handle?

“Katie…” you asked nervously.

“What is it honey? Can’t take it?” She teased but she knew that wasn’t the case because you’ve sucked her off many times before.

“What’s this?” You asked as you held up the knife. Her eyes widened, “I-it’s uh self defense.” Her response was way to quick as if she was covering something up.

“Kate Bishop please tell me the truth.” You said, a little more firmly but in a scared way.

Your girlfriend sat up and carefully took the knife from you. “If I tell you this, promise not to run. Because I will find you if you do.” Her words unsettled you but also oddly turned you on at the same time.

She put her hand over yours as she said this. All you could do was nod.

“I’m the bow killer.” Those four words sent you to the edge. Your heart was pounding, your pussy was still soaked and your mind was running ramped.

“T-the…y-you-“ was all you could muster out.

“Yes, baby. But please know I love you and I’m never gonna hurt you.” The raven haired girl cupped your face in her hands.

“Why?” Was all you could ask.

“Ever since I was a kid I had this…urge to hurt people. I know it’s wrong but I could never shake it and I- one night I let myself go and I killed a woman but it felt so good. The feeling was so addicting that I decided to just keep doing it. The more people I kill the less…I want to hurt you.” Her explanation was wild and you felt insane for understanding her.

“I don’t know why but I understand.” You replied. She sighed in relief and put the knife down on the coffee table, “Don’t tell anyone about this. You understand?”

“Yes Kate.”

“Good girl.” And she kissed you once again.

[lustkillers]

BEGGIN' ON HER KNEES TO BE POPULAR !

⊹₊ ⋆ summary. - she wants more fame, he's helping her gain that.

┃ tags/warnings. ࿐ ❪ probably not set in the right era, nsfw freak shit. dom!euronymous, sub!reader. reader and euro are opposites, unprotected sex, degradation, praising, crying, face-fucking, reader and euro make a sex tape, office sex? exhibitionism?? creampie, freak shit. ❫

⊹₊ ⋆ pairing - euronymous x famous!fem!reader. ❪ not the actual euronymous, only rory’s portrayal. ❫

⊹₊ ⋆ note - fucking hate the idol show, but this song is so orgasmic for no reason. not proofread.

THE first time you both met, the venue was flashing red and blue lights. You were downing shots with friends, and his fingers were playing on the stringed instrument.

He was mesmerizing you with his skill and confidence. You felt a shared electric current buzzing in the air, and before you could shift your gaze away he had already caught it. His eyes were remote, yet deep; like an ocean full of secrets that only revealed themselves when someone is brave enough to swim away from shore.

It was like his music seduced you, as you got up from your spot in the venue, his eyes followed you. You felt an exciting but strange feeling in the pit of your stomach as you started swaying your body with the music.

You could feel his gaze burning into the back of your neck. He knew who you were, and before you knew it his time was up on stage, now standing right beside you, his hands on your hips. Your heart raced as you looked into his eyes, feeling the same electric current that had taken over your body earlier.

A surge of confidence jolted through your veins as the music kept playing, your hips grinding on his slightly-toned body. The atmosphere in the room was intense and before you knew it, time froze as his lips brushed up against yours.

The sensation of his lips on yours sent shivers down your spine, making every inch of your body tingle with anticipation. You leaned in closer to him, wanting more as he deepened the kiss.

But that's where your first encounter ended.

After that encounter happened, you still kept in touch. He still did his music, and you did yours. Every time he'd perform, you'd find yourself in the crowd, watching him with a newfound appreciation for his passion.

However, as his music career boosted, yours declined. He started to get more and more attention from other people, leaving you feeling a little bit jealous. You couldn't help but feel a bit of envy as you watched him perform and receive praise.

"How'd you do it?" You were now talking to him after his show, your question masked by the thumping of music.

He didn't answer you, putting his stuff away. You cleared your throat, feeling embarrassed for asking him that question.

You really needed his help, and you were willing to anything. You were desperate.

"Look, I need your help. My shit isn’t going well, and I don't know what else to do," you pleaded, your voice barely audible over the loud music.

He looked at you, smirking. "Maybe if we worked together, I could help," he said finally.

You raised an eyebrow, "Together? How is that going to work?" He smiled mischievously, "Come by Helvete tomorrow, and you'll find out." And with that, he left you alone, your stomach feeling warm at his words.

The next day, you made your way to Helvete. He was already there, waiting for you. He motioned to his office, gesturing for you to enter.

Once inside, you stood there awkwardly, unsure of what to do. He smiled. "I think I have a way that we can help each other out," he said.

His expression shifted to a lust filled one, and you felt your face flush. He licked his lips and you knew what he was suggesting. "On your knees, slut." He commanded.

Your heart began to race and you felt a mix of fear and excitement at his words. You slowly got on your knees, bracing yourself for whatever was coming next. He stepped closer to you and grabbed ahold of your chin, lifting it up so he could look into your eyes. "Now, I’m going to help you, and in return you’re going to help me." He said with a smirk.

You nodded, unable to speak, as he explained the terms of your agreement, bringing in the factor of him recording you both. When he was finished, you swallowed hard and looked him in the eyes. You knew that if you said yes it would change your life forever--but it was a risk that seemed worth taking.

He smiled, satisfied with your response. "Good girl," he said as he reached out and grasped the back of your neck roughly, pulling you into a passionate kiss. You felt like your heart was going to burst out of your chest as the intensity of his lips grew stronger and stronger. When he finally pulled away you were left feeling breathless and dizzy-- but you couldn't deny the warmth that was spreading through your body.

He pushed you back onto your knees, looking down at you with a satisfied smirk. "Now, if you want to keep your end of the bargain," he continued, his voice low and threatening, "you're going to do exactly what I say."

His words made you more aroused, and if he kept it up for much longer, you were probably going to be in a pool of your wetness.

His hands unzipped his pants, revealing his cock. Your eyes slightly widened, and you found yourself salivating at the thought of it inside of you.

He commanded you to take him in your mouth, and with a deep breath, you complied. You ran your tongue around his hardness before taking him into your mouth fully. He moaned in pleasure as he grabbed onto the back of your head, gently pushing himself deeper and deeper down your throat, now gaining control.

He started to thrust faster and deeper, your spit pooling out the sides of your face. His cock speared to the back of your throat, and you started to gag. You tried to pull away, but his fingers were still intertwined in your hair, refusing for you to get away.

It went on for a couple of more minutes, and you were moments away from passing out. He pulled out, a line of spit connected between your lips and his cock. He smiled down on you, enjoying the view of you in a state of utter submission.

"Up, bitch." He commanded. You got up, unsteady on your feet, and he pulled you into a rough kiss. He licked your lips, tasted himself on you. His hands wandered down your body, cupping and squeezing every inch of you as he kissed you deeply.

Both of you slowly walked to his desk, both of you removing your clothes. He laid you down, his hands caressing and exploring every inch of your body. His lips pressed against yours, leaving a light trail down to your neck.

His hands moved lower, fingers gently teasing your wet folds before entering you. You gasped in pleasure as he thrust gently inside of you, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body as he increased the intensity of his thrusts.

"F-Fuck, Euro!" You cried out, your breathing quickening as he continued to thrust in and out of you. He smiled down at your blissful expression before increasing the speed, his hands gripping your hips tightly.

You moaned in pleasure and closed your eyes, surrendering to the sensation of his rushing within you. His hands roamed all over you as he took in every moan and scream of pleasure with each thrust.

The pleasure felt suffocating, your head going dizzy. "M'gonna cum," you babbled out.

Euro's eyes lit up as he picked up the pace, pushing you closer and closer until you finally tumbled over the edge. You screamed out his name like a prayer as your body quivered in pleasure.

His movements became more erratic and intense, chanting your name with profanities. You still felt sensitive, the pleasure almost knocking you out.

You felt a hot burst fill you, his arms trembling as he thrust deeper and held himself inside you, stuffing you full. You both lay still, panting as he remained inside you.

Euronymous squatted down to your puffed-out pussy, his mouth attaching to it. He licked and sucked on your sensitive flesh, sending sensations all through you.

Your hands tangled through his hair, "S'too much!" You cried out, but still needy for more. He chuckled, his hands caressing your thighs as he kept licking and sucking.

He paid attention to every inch of you, lavishing in the taste of your orgasm-induced cum until finally you could take no more.

You laid there, feeling utterly satisfied, as Euronymous got up and walked to the camera, turning it off, smirking.

"That was quite the show, wasn't it?" He said with a wink.

You blushed and smiled, feeling content inside as you thought of what just happened. You were left feeling content in a way you hadn't before, and you knew that this would be something that neither of you would forget.

You bit your lip, smiling at him as your hair was tousled. This was it, you both did it.

You were going to be famous.

"BEAUTIFUL BABE GETS FUCKED BY GUITARIST, EURONYMOUS! WATCH NOW!"

And you did.

[animentality]

durgetash isn't just "love is forbidden."

it's "you can deny your own humanity as much as you like, lie to yourself about the nature of your pain, pretend you don't need anyone and you aren't lonely, but in the words of prestige television show Chernobyl HBO, every lie told incurs a debt to the truth and sooner or later that debt is paid."

you can lie about how much you truly care about the only person who understands you, you can pretend you don't need love or validation or acceptance, but your refusal to acknowledge your own feelings will be your undoing. it's not a weakness to have feelings, it's a weakness not to acknowledge and accept and deal with them. it's a weakness that will be exploited.

when Enver thought he could trust the dark urge because he cared about them before and he can't look into their eyes without remembering all of the time they spent together (as they plan to betray and kill him).

when the dark urge spent their entire life on a pedestal, with no friends or lovers, out of subconscious fear of destroying someone they love again, and they let their guard down, their alliance with the chosen of Bane directly leading to their downfall, whether you believe Orin used Gortash's form to take them off guard or simply targeted them for getting too close to him.

they both paid the price for that weakness.

also the fallout from durgetash was fucking radioactive.

kinda put a nuclear cloud over baldur's gate.

[elliesmainhoe]

Goodnight, Mom

HBO ELLIE WILLIAMS X MotherFigure!Reader

This character is under 18 so the relationship is PLATONIC

Summary: After you help her down from a panic attack, Ellie calls you Mom for the first time.

Contents: mentions of David, trauma response, Ellie isolates herself, Night terror, Panic attack, Panic attack comfort.

A/N: I re-watched the last of us, and omg I need to comfort this bby so bad.

Ellie was such a ray of sunshine, so funny, so fiesty, so sweet. But ever since what happened with David, she just wasn't herself. She was quiet, reclusive and she never left her room, you went upstairs with a tray of food three times a day and left it outside her door, only returning an hour later to see it half eaten and abandoned in the same place you left it.

You missed her. You missed your walking boost of serotonin. Joel, Tess and you had been given her by the fireflies, you were all friends aswell as coworkers, well Joel and Tess had a little fling going on- but to each their own. She was so cute when you first met eachother, her little pocket knife and her messy brown hair.

And ever since you were assigned her as 'cargo', you hadn't been the same. The 14 year old immediately took a liking to you, and you to her. She stuck by your side through everything, you were practically attached by the hip.

She was with you when Tess died, when you tried to find Bill and Frank, when you met Henry and Sam, and when Joel told you he would no longer be coming with you. Ellie was your shadow, always lurking around watching you, smiling in admiration when you killed some infected in a particularly impressive way.

And that's why, after David, you couldn't bring yourself to deliver Ellie to the fireflies. You weren't stupid, you had a degree in biology for fucks sake, you knew- deep down that Ellie wouldn't make it out of that operating room. You knew she would want the truth and so you told her the truth.

Sitting in an old rusted car, driving down an abandoned highway back to Jackson you told her. She was conflicted- her life? For the world's? She was inclined to say yes. However, once you reminded her of the reality- it was unlikely it would work, and if it did it would be used as a political weapon against Fedra, and probably wouldn't see another person after its initial creation.

Once you made it back to Wyoming, you both settled down. Maria gifted you an old run down house to take on as your own.

When Ellie isolated herself in her room, you knew you had to leave her to it. She went through a traumatic experience and she deserved the time by herself to heal, no matter how much you were worried about her.

So, to take your mind of it, you went on patrols and found paint, old books, decorations and lights to try and make the house a home, and you think that you did that successfully. You painted the kitchen cabinets, reupholstered all the stools and couches. Added string lights in the living room and your bedroom to make it more cozy, and added potted plants around the house to bring the outside in.

After about 2 weeks the only room left to decorate was Ellie's. You had a large can of pale blue paint, and had collected a lot of posters of 70s-80s bands she had info-dumped about a while back.

It was night time, 10pm to be exact and you were exhausted- you did your usual routine, applying a moisturizer on your face and brushing your teeth before heading towards Ellie's door.

A small crack of warm light came out from underneath the wooden paneled door. Your first knocked onto the wood,

"you alright in there sweetheart?" you spoke softly, earning just a hum in response. "Well I'm going to sleep now- if you need anything don't be afraid just come wake me up"

"night y/n" Ellie's voice spoke quietly from the other side, if your ear wasn't pressed up against the panels you wouldn't of heard it. "Goodnight Ellie."

••••••••

At first the sound of Ellie's screams were no surprise, you often heard her sobbing, begging and pleading in your dreams, but this one was different it was clearer than usual.

Eyes flittering open and reaching over to your bed side table, you flicked on the reading lamp and blinked as your eyes adjusted to the warm golden light the bulb emitted. It did not take long for you to realize that the cries were very much real, and very much coming from Ellie's room across the hall.

Before you could even comprehend what you were doing, you scrambled out of bed and across the landing, swinging open the oak door that lead into the teenagers room. You hurried over to her bedside, turning on the table lamp so you could see Ellie fully.

Her body was writhing, her hands clawing at her own skin subconsciously. Her eyes remained closed, she was still asleep. Shit. First things first, let's make sure she doesn't hurt herself. You took her hands in yours, ever so softly, stroking your thumb against her palms reassuringly. You began speaking to her, trying to rouse her from her sleep as she began to fight against you.

"Baby- Ellie, it's just me Babygirl" you said, louder than you usually would. "You gotta wake up for my sweetheart."

After about a minute her eyes opened slowly- however there was a deep-rooted anger in them at first, for a split second she thought that you were him. She went to push you off of her.

"Sweetheart- sweetheart, it's just me Babygirl, it's just me." You comforted. Ellie's eyes softened, her angry screaming turning into words made incoherent by her relentless sobbing. You took a seat next to her on the single bed mattress, allowing Ellie's arms to wrap securely around your waist.

Her chest heaved- breathing quick and unsteadily. "5 things you can see, you know the drill" you told her, hands tangling into the brunette hair that laid in your lap.

"I can see... You, my sketches on the wall, my pencils, the moon out of my window and my comic book." She trembled through shaky breaths.

"Good Girl. Now, four things you can feel?"

"my bed sheets, your t-shirt, your hand in my hair and the socks on my feet." She spoke calmer this time, but the sniffles and occasional sob still left her lips.

"Well done sweetheart, three things you can hear."

"The clock ticking, your breathing, and my sniffles"

"Mhm.. and two things you can smell?"

"Your new soap and the smell of freshly clean laundry"

"And lastly, one thing you can taste"

"My toothpaste" she says, her breathing had now slowed and her sobs turned into the occasional sniffle.

"Well done Ellie, in so proud of you" you hummed, you pecked her forehead lightly- and grinned when you saw the hint of a smile grace her face.

"Can you stay with me till I fall asleep?" She whispered, looking up at you. "Course I can." you replied before shuffling onto the bed in a comfier position.

Ellie's face, still damp from tears buried itself in the crook of your neck, arms wrapping around you like her life depended on it.

"Goodnight Ellie".

"Goodnight Mom".

--------------

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NOT PROOFREAD

[pedroshotwifey]

Joel Fucking Miller

Pairing: Joel Miller x F!Reader (Can be pictured as either HBO or Video Game version)

Word Count: 8.1k

Tags/Warnings: NO use of Y/N, Smut with a lil garnish of angst, kinda mean Joel, Borderline Dark!Joel, but consent is given at a point, one singular spank, rough piv sex, exhibition kink, slight humiliation/degradation, possessive behavior, enemies to lovers-ish?, reader is a menace but we love her, spit kink, anal play, this is pure filth and I'm not sorry

Summary: You and Joel Miller have been sworn enemies from the very start, both of you at each other’s other's throats since the first glance. What he can't know is that you have been harboring a stubborn crush on him this whole time---It’s not until he has you up against a wall that you realize he feels the same way.

A/N: Now that I have all of my one-shots posted, I'm going to start posting my ongoing stories as well as some new works. I'm almost finished with the Frankie Sex Pollen fic so that will be posted sometime this week. I will also be working on creating both a masterlist and a recommendation list, so hopefully that should be done soon too. Thanks for reading!

***

Today has been a shitty fucking day—no pun intended. 

Not to say every day isn’t shitty here in the QZ, but this one really takes the cake. To start your fabulous day, you woke up an hour late, making you one of the last people in line to pick up jobs. When you got to the assigning station, you found that you had been left with two options for the week: janitorial service at one of the mess halls, and sewer duty—where you literally have to shovel shit. The only card left for the mess hall was an all-day shift. You took them both.

That's why you find yourself here now, below the city, finishing up sewer duty, covered head to toe in stench and sweat even though it’s the middle of winter. You’re pretty sure you are the last one down here; it’s been a while since you saw or heard anyone else. You aren’t surprised. You’re used to being the only one who cares enough to actually finish whatever job you were tasked with that day, no matter how repulsive it may be. 

You don't take pride in much, but you are willing to admit that you admire that quality about yourself. You are a damn hard worker and you aren’t afraid to show it. You have no idea where it stems from, maybe your stubbornness, or possibly your inner perfectionist. Whatever it is, you find yourself often wishing that more people would have the same mindset. God knows it would make your life easier at the very least. In the time you have spent in the Boston QZ, you have only had the pleasure—or maybe you should say displeasure—of meeting one other like-minded person. 

You became acquainted with Joel Miller within the first day of being in the QZ, which was about three years ago now. The first glance you got of him was as you were being hauled through the gates, lucky enough to have not been shot on the spot when a couple of FEDRA officers caught you hiding out in the woods. Your eyes met his before they met anyone else's, and he’d held your gaze, his expression anything but welcome, as if he were trying to evaluate you with one look. 

By the looks of it, he had to be at least a couple of decades older than you, but that didn’t stop the heat that started to simmer between your legs at the first glance you got of him. When his eyes didn't leave yours, you took it as a challenge and forced yourself to keep your gaze on him until he was completely out of sight. You knew what you were doing, and so did he, both of you deciding on the spot that you would be enemies until one of you either died or left. 

Sure, you knew that it probably wasn't the best idea to piss people off before you made any allies, but you couldn’t find it in you to care. From the first second you saw that man, you knew that one way or the other—one of them being a heated feeling you chose to ignore—he would be trouble. As per usual, you were right. If you didn't know any better, you would have said that he was dead-set on following you around, bumping into you at almost every job you took. At first, you had been convinced that he had been doing just that.

 The first couple of times it happened you considered it some stupid coincidence, some twisted kind of unluckiness. Granted, it wasn't every time, but it was more often than not, and that was more than enough for you. By the fifth or sixth time out of ten, you waited until the very end of the shift, until it was only Joel and yourself left working. You kept a close eye on him, and as soon as he started wrapping up, you cornered him. That had been the first time that you had ever actually spoken to each other instead of tossing nasty glances back and forth. 

You had immediately gone to work with your rushed interrogation, demanding him to tell you why he was following you, to tell you what his problem was. The most frustrating part of the whole ordeal was the way he had sat back, leaning on one leg with his arms crossed, his expression bored as he waited for you to finish. He said nothing until he was positive that you had nothing more to say. 

“I ain't followin’ you, kid,'' he had said, his voice deep and more pleasant than you would have liked it to be. His tone was hard, as you had expected it would be, but the tangy southern drawl and depth of his voice took you off guard, an unwelcome heat suddenly forming between your legs—which only pissed you off more. 

The stone-cold look in his too-pretty eyes only worsened the feeling, and suddenly you found that you weren't able to speak; you didn't even know what you had come up to say at this point.  “Don’t fuckin’ bother me again,” he muttered and pushed past you before you could realize you had been staring.

***

“You just gonna fuckin’ stand there all day?” A much too familiar voice pulls you out of your thoughts and back into reality. Speak of the fucking devil. 

“Just finishing up, Miller,” you spit, not bothering to look in his direction. You can hear him start to walk up to you but you ignore it, opting instead to actually finish what you had been doing. It only takes a few more seconds, and by that time, you can practically feel Joel staring a hole into your back, no more than a few feet behind you now. 

He doesn't move, so you continue to ignore him and start walking to the ladder so you can get out of this literal shit hole. You only make it a few steps before you realize that he is moving with you, following at the same distance he had stopped at before. Your jaw ticks as you spin around on your heel, so suddenly that Joel almost knocks into you.

“Is there something I can help you with?” you ask him as sweetly as you can manage, the fire in your eyes contradicting your tone. His own eyes narrow as he takes a step back, crossing his arms in his usual fashion. 

“Maybe you should learn how to help yourself first before you go offerin’ it to other people, princess.” He says the name as an insult, and you have to bare your teeth to keep your composure. 

“What the fuck is that even supposed to mean, old man?” You ask him, taking a step toward him. He doesn't back away this time, instead taking a step toward you in reciprocation. The two of you lock gazes and stare at each other for what could have been ten seconds or ten days before Joel breaks the trance and shoves past you instead of answering. 

You just stand there and let him climb the ladder to the street above you. You can see right through him, the asshole wants a reaction, and you're not going to grant him that satisfaction—not this time anyway. 

You wait for a few minutes until you can be sure that he's long gone before you grit your teeth and turn on your heel, walking to the ladder and hoisting yourself up. As you reach the surface you catch a whiff of yourself and scrunch your nose. You need a fucking shower.

***

The next day, you wake up in a sour mood, already dreading today's job—janitorial services. At least it's not scooping shit this time. You’re the first one there, as per usual. The hall is a mess after breakfast and you take a deep breath as you think about the fact that even after you scrub it spotless, it will be trashed again by the end of lunch and then again after dinner.

To top it all off, it's ridiculously cold in the room, the fire lit in the back of it not doing much to increase the temperature. You look down at your white cotton t-shirt under your flannel and find yourself wishing you had put a thicker undershirt on.

There aren't many people working with you on the first shift, only the usual other three this morning, not that you're complaining of course, it just means fewer people to get in your way. You keep your eyes to yourself most of the time, only looking at someone if they address you to ask for help or to comment on something. Before you know it, lunch has come and gone and you are preparing for dinner. 

You notice halfway through that time that your friend is working the second shift, and she approaches you so you can work together for the rest of the time, though she only has the after-lunch shift. Rachel is a hard worker for the most part, though she likes to slack off a lot, but you appreciate the help while you have it. The two of you gossip and joke quietly until it's time for her to leave and time for you to sit back and wait for the dinner crowd to flood in.

***

It feels like a week has passed by the time the last person clears out after dinner, and you breathe a sigh of relief—you’re so close to getting back to your apartment and into your welcoming bed. You immediately get to work on sweeping up the trash that collected underneath the tables, eager to get out of here. 

There are only two other people working with you this shift, which is weird because FEDRA usually has at least four people on each job, but you brush it off. They seemed to know each other and they blab amongst themselves as they work. At least the couple seemed like they were in the same mindset when it came to getting this job done, so you didn’t mind the fact that you are missing a crew member. 

Halfway through your sweeping, you hear the door slam open, startling you and the couple that is now busy with taking leftover dishes into the kitchen. The chill that sweeps through the large room makes you assume it was just a gust of wind, probably blowing snow into the doorway. 

Great, something else to clean, you think as you huff an annoyed breath. 

When you turn to face the sound though, you find yourself wishing that the problem had been snow, but of course, when did anything ever go your way? The supposed gust of wind is actually Joel fucking Miller.

Your mood immediately sours and you have to fight not to roll your eyes as you watch him slink into the room and follow the couple into the kitchen. You hear the girl inform him that he was late—as if he didn’t know, or care for that matter. He only grunts in response. You don’t bother to stop your eyes from rolling to the back of your head. If Joel sees it, he doesn't say anything. 

***

An hour later, Joel hasn’t bothered you, much to your relief. The only time you have to look up from your work is when the couple from earlier bids you farewell before they walk out the door. There is nothing left to do but scrub the tables, which you are doing now. 

You only have two to go, and then you’re free for the rest of the night. Now that you're the only one left, the room is almost eerily silent, the only sound being the drip of water as you dip your sponge into the bucket and wring it out. After the table you are working on is thoroughly cleaned, you move on to the last one. It sits right next to the busted window, and you shiver as you walk past it. 

“Cold, sweetheart?” The baritone voice sounding from behind you just about causes you to jump out of your skin, the bucket of water in your grasp suddenly spilling over your front. Of course, it was a huge fucking bucket, so it was enough water to coat almost your entire body. 

The white t-shirt you have on under your thick flannel is soaked through so that it’s practically transparent. Dropping the now empty tub to the floor with a loud clang, you swivel on your heel to face Joel, who is leaning against the wall to his right, arms crossed.

 If he sees the fire in your eyes, he ignores it as he smirks at you, obviously humored by your reaction—and likely by the fact that he can see your bra. Your mouth opens and closes repeatedly, every expletive or reprimand that comes to mind doesn’t seem to cover what you want to say. 

As you stand there soaked in dirty, soapy water, you find that you can do nothing but stare. Your gaze is stuck on the man still standing in front of you, not a twinge of empathy in his own, which he has trained on you in return. You have no idea how long the two of you stay rooted to the same spots, staring each other down, but it must have been at least a few minutes because you can feel your body start to involuntarily shiver as your drenched form begins to freeze. 

Of fucking course you had to have been standing right next to the broken, half-assed boarded-up window, and not by the fire that still rages into the chimney on the other side of the room. 

The cool air sweeping in seems to trap you in its frigid grasp, threatening to turn the grayish liquid that covers you into ice. You can't help it as you finally move, bringing your arms up to cross over your chest in a feeble attempt to warm your rapidly cooling body and cover your exposed undergarment. You flinch as your arm presses the freezing fabric closer to your skin.

The action seems to break the invisible spell that had set over the two of you because Joel takes that as his queue to take a step back off the wall and lift his chin. The movement makes him look bigger and you have to lift your own to look into his eyes again. You can only hope he sees the fury that burns on your own. If looks could kill, he would be dead on the floor right now. 

“You’re fucking joking,” you are the first to break the silence. The quiver in your voice would be embarrassing if not for the fact that it was placed there out of anger. The asshole who put it there must know it too because you can see the way he swallows as if trying to rid himself of his guilt, though if that’s what he is feeling, he doesn’t show it any other way. 

You can expect that the action will be the only sign of such a thing—if Joel Miller doesn't want to feel a certain way, he doesn’t, simple as that. You have never once met a man more rude, nor stubborn as the one currently in front of you.  

“Didn’t realize I was bein’ funny,” he says, straight-faced with that stupid southern drawl that you have come to despise. You don’t reply as you continue to stare daggers at him, and you can't tell what’s making you shake more at this point—the layer of fucking ice about to coat your body, or the unmatched rage that brews in your mind.

 Right now, you would place your bets on the rage, considering it’s actually starting to warm you up. The sight of Joel, arms crossed to mimic your own, still staring down at you like he's some fucking god, only fuels the feeling. Sighing quietly, your eyes shut as you try to calm yourself down before you say something you would really regret. It only takes a few seconds until you speak again, which might not have been long enough, truthfully speaking. 

“That was pretty fucking shitty, even for you, Miller.” You manage to get the sentence out through gritted teeth, but it sounds strained. Anyone would agree that it sounds like you are trying your best to contain yourself, though it’s obviously a task you are struggling with. He says nothing, and his body gives nothing away, so you speak again. He knew exactly what was going to happen if he snuck up on you like that, and he probably didn’t even give it a second thought.

“I mean really, how fucking immature can you be? You really thought scaring me while I was holding a tub of dirty water was the best way to get my attention?” Your mouth starts to let words out before you can even think about what threatens to escape, and there is nothing you can really do but allow it to happen. 

Your lips are moving far too quickly for your brain to comprehend at this point, your anger completely taking over. As hard as it can be to hold yourself back from an argument sometimes, you always managed—but this was the last fucking straw. 

“And why the fuck are you even here? You obviously don’t have anything left to do.” Your voice is quickly raising but you doubt you could do anything about that even if you wanted to right now. Of course, it doesn’t matter how loud you get, you could probably scream right in his face, it never seems to affect him.

“Seemed lonely,” he says simply, shrugging and shifting off of the wall. He looks at your bewildered expression and decides it would somehow make it better if he elaborated, though you both know that he only does it to dig further under your skin. 

“Never got anyone around, s’ all. Too fuckin’ stubborn n’ self-absorbed to make any friends.” His tone is condescending and nonchalant at the same time, like he is both stating a fact and trying to beat you down. You continue to stare at him as he finishes. This is a whole new level, one you wouldn’t even have assumed Joel would ever jump to. 

You’ll admit it, he’s managed to find one of your most delicate insecurities, and he knows it, too.  Even before the outbreak, you always had trouble making friends, your anxiety and general mistrust always got in the way. Every time you thought you were getting close to someone, you would push them away. It was your biggest fear, being betrayed by someone close to you—a worse fear, you decided, than being alone. 

To this day, you have only ever let one person really get to know you. When you met Rachel during your first week in the QZ, she showed you a sort of open kindness that let you know she was a good one. You knew then, and you know now, that she would never do anything to hurt you in any way. 

In the time that you've gotten to know her, she’s become the best friend you’ve ever had, and the only one you wanted. But she is only one person after all, and she can’t spend all of her time with you, so you find yourself on your own most of the time—and of course, Joel Miller, of all people, would pick up on it. 

“You are such an asshole, Joel,” you spew out after a moment. “And you have the audacity to call me lonely?” You can't help the tears that start to blur your vision, so you ignore them as you continue to rant, your hands now flying wildly. The pit of insecurity in your stomach is starting to grow to the point where you feel like it will swallow you whole. 

“You act like you’re so much fucking better than me! Who do you have?” Through your watering eyes, you can see the way Joel flinches slightly, and as much as it pleases you that you seem to have finally found a soft spot, it also eggs you on. You recognize it and think to yourself that he's a fucking idiot for pointing out the fact that you don’t have anyone in your corner when he has the same exact problem. 

“Huh? You say I'm alone, and maybe I am, but I’ve never seen you with anybody.” Your vision starts to clear as you feel hot tears begin to streak down your already-soaked cheeks, allowing you to see the deep scowl set on Joel's face. It almost scares you how mad he looks, but it's too late to back down now. 

You stare at him for a moment, waiting for him to say something, but it never comes. His silence only encourages you, and you know you probably seem immature as you continue to insult him, but it gets pushed to the back of your mind as you quickly realize it’s the least of your worries right now. Your tears are streaming freely at this point, your breaking point finally has been reached. The words are coming out faster than you care to stop them. 

“You have no fucking friends, Joel,” you spit out. That one definitely struck a nerve, and you watch as he takes a step towards you, his face giving you a warning expression as if he already knows what you are going to say next. You know his history, and you know it's a bad idea, you know it is, but you say it anyway.

“You have no friends…” You pause, your brain subconsciously trying to talk you out of what you’re about to do. Of course, you don't listen. “...and you have no fucking famil-” you get cut off as Joels hand makes contact with your throat, his grip crushing your windpipe as he pushes you back until you hit the wall and lifts you onto your toes so you are looking into his rage-filled eyes.

He says nothing for a moment as he lets you struggle in his firm grasp, watching you writhe and try to gulp in air. The panic that courses through your body is almost paralyzing, sending a hot flash throughout your entire body as your brain catches up with what's happening. 

You find yourself panicking even more when you realize that fear isn’t the only thing your senses seem to be overwhelmed with as his hand tightens around your neck. The wetness beginning to gather in your panties is suddenly the biggest problem you are faced with, an unwelcome feeling or arousal suddenly making itself known. 

Everything seems to be happening in slow motion as you feel your hands start to claw at the one wrapped around your neck, no doubt leaving raised scratch marks across his wrist. The man doesn't wince or falter though, as you struggle to try to pry his hand away. You can feel your mouth opening and closing, though you’re unsure of what you are trying to say. You suspect it's something along the lines of “Please”, but no sound comes out. 

Eventually, after you realize that nothing is going to come from your struggle, you let your body fall limp, the only movement left is the tears that still crawl tauntingly down your cheeks. Though some of them may still be from the anger that had overcome you before you felt his large palm on your throat, most of them are now evidence of your shame. 

Logically, you reason that there is no way for him to know what kind of response his aggressive actions pulled from you, but you can't help but feel like somehow, he can see right through you. 

Upon seeing you submit, Joel lifts you more until you are close enough to feel his hot breath fan across your face. He loosens his grip enough so that you are allowed to catch a breath, but not enough for you to fall away from him. He starts to lower his arm, letting your feet hit the ground, but he leans his body down with your own so that his face stays less than an inch away from your own the entire time. 

You know that realistically, he only had you in the air for a few seconds, but it felt like an hour with the fear—and unexpected lust—that was coursing through your veins. Though you are still trembling with the silent threat he delivered, you seem to be able to calm down a little as his hand loosens and slides around to the back of your neck, only holding you in place. 

You stare into his eyes because you have nowhere else to look, and are almost surprised to see the array of emotions on display. You see anger, impatience, annoyance, a hint of restraint, but the one that seems to dominate them all is the one that takes you aback the most. You see in his eyes, what must be a reflection of your own. 

Your mouth drops open again as you begin to place the look of longing and desire that burns in Joel's gaze as he stares you down, his mouth just centimeters from your own. You take a chance and allow yourself to look down at the way his lips almost brush yours, his own mouth parted as you both try to calm your ragged breathing. 

You have no idea why you suddenly feel this way—well, you do, you just refuse to admit it. You hate his fucking guts because he is the only man that has made you feel something since before the outbreak. Every time you look at him, it is evidence that you are still capable of letting your guard down, that you are still weak. 

You promised yourself the first time you understood what the potential problem with Joel Miller could be, that you wouldn’t allow it to become one. But this god-damned man makes it so fucking hard to keep that in check when he is staring at you like he wants to ruin you. 

You feel his hand tighten around you again, and you snap your eyes back up to his, suddenly blushing as you realize that you have been staring at his lips for far too long. For once, you are at a loss for words, you have no idea what to say that might save your ass from looking like you had been doing exactly what you had. Thankfully, you don't have to wonder for long because Joel cuts right back to the chase, seemingly shaking himself out of his own thoughts as he speaks again. 

“You want to try that again, little girl?” Fuck. How the fuck are you supposed to ignore the pit forming in your stomach when he says shit like that? You are too caught up in thinking of a response to answer him immediately, and he clearly doesn’t appreciate that as he shifts his position, pushing you back further into the wall behind you. 

When he moves, you realize that one of his legs is slotted between your own, and your eyes widen as you feel how close his thigh is to your center—one little movement and you will give yourself away. You must be dripping at this point, and if he's not close enough to feel the heat coming off your cunt from where he stands right now, he will be if he moves any closer. 

Steeling yourself, you opt not to speak as you bring your hands back up to grasp at his wrist again. Joel watches as you struggle to get a grip before he growls and uses his free hand to grab both of yours and place them on the wall above your head. Your eyes somehow widen even more and you want to shrivel up into a ball as you feel the blood rush to your cheeks.

You need to move now. You can't let this man see what he does to you, the way your body reacts to the way he so easily dominates you. You know that you have no time to plan anything out, so you do the first thing that comes to mind—you try to tug your hands out of his grip and you lunge to the side. 

You’re not sure why you even attempt it, you know that it won't get you anywhere, but you do it anyway. Of course, he overpowers you once again, and nothing changes but his grip, both of his hands tightening as he leans in even closer to you. The new position causes his thigh to crush into your throbbing clit, and before you can stop it, a whimper breaks through your lips.

Nothing is said for a moment as you stare at Joel with shame, and him at you with a newfound amusement. You can feel yourself melting on the spot, and you let your head hang in humiliation, your eyes trained on the ground next to Joel, who is now smirking as he stares back at you. You feel his thigh crush into you again, deliberately this time, and you have to bite your lip and close your eyes in concentration so as to not give away any more sounds. 

You hear Joel chuckle darkly above you, and the sound goes straight to your pussy. How are you supposed to resist this man when he sounds like that, when the rough denim of his jeans is rubbing you in all the right places as he begins to rock his thigh back and forth, making you bite your lip even harder. The hand on your neck suddenly releases its grip and you feel his thumb come to your mouth, tugging your bottom lip until it falls away from the punishing bite of your teeth. 

“C’mon now, princess,” you hear Joel speak again and you can't help but moan softly as he sets his hand on your hip, starting to guide you across his firm thigh. 

“You’ve given yourself away now, you ain’t gonna get outta this one.” His tone is taunting as he presses down on your hip, bringing you down harder against him. 

The pressure on your clit is almost overwhelming with pleasure, and you find yourself moving on your own, beginning to chase the orgasm that has suddenly come within your grasp. You can’t help it with the way your wet jeans rub you just right and the firmness of his thigh is just enough to push the seam of them onto all the right places.

“F-fuck you, Miller,” you say, opening your eyes and bringing your head back up to look into his eyes, hoping the anger is apparent in yours. He stares at you for a moment before he speaks again. 

“Yeah, I bet you’d like that, wouldn’t ya?” He doesn’t give you a chance to respond before he moves his hand down to where your cunt meets his thigh, and places his thumb right on your clit, rubbing quick circles. The touch is all you need to send you over the edge, becoming a moaning mess under Joel’s body. He’s right of course, you want him to fucking ruin you. God, you hate it when he’s right. 

He continues the circles on your clit as you come down from your high, riding you through it. When you are finally able to catch your breath, you look him in the eye to find him staring right back at you. His gaze is intense and full of want. 

“You want me to quit, darlin?” You can tell by the way he says it, that he asks genuinely. He would stop if you said the word. As much as you want to hate him, you know that he is respectful enough that he wouldn’t do anything to that effect without your consent.

Joel may be an asshole, but he would never put his hands on a woman in that sense if she showed any sign of resistance. Though he didn’t seem to have a problem with wrapping his palm around your throat. 

“I can give you more, all you have to do is ask,” Joel says after you don't answer him. His gaze is hungry as he waits for your consent, his eyes slowly tracing up and down your body, taking you in. When he looks back to your face, you nod slowly, watching as his already blown-out pupils seem to take over his irises. 

“I'm gonna need to hear you say it, darlin,” he says as he brings his chin up to the side of your head, nibbling your earlobe and making you shiver. 

“P-please, Joel,” you say, giving up the act. You know you want him, he knows you want him, and now you know he wants you, too. 

“I need you, please.” At your signal, he doesn't wait any longer as he starts to pull you away from the wall, his free hand traveling back to the back of your neck, the other still grasping your wrists. Before you can figure out where he’s moving you to, your chest slams onto one of the tables, the force almost enough to knock the wind out of you. You had expected him to be rough, but not this rough… not that you mind. He’s clearly done with being gentle with you now that he has free reign.

“Jesus, Joel,” you say, throwing him a look over your shoulder as much as you can with your neck still being pinned down. 

“You fucking mind?” You hear Joel chuckle behind you and feel him step closer to you, pressing himself against your ass and leaning over so that his chest is flush with your back. 

“Nope, not at all.” His breath tickles your ear as he whispers into it. 

“Now I'd be quiet if I were you, girl,” he tells you, his tone almost threatening. “Unless you want to wake the whole town, of course, cause now that I’ve started, I ain't gonna stop.” Your eyes widen and a whimper falls from your lips as he finishes his threat and pushes his top half off of you. 

“Maybe you’d like that, huh, little girl?” he pauses his sentence to rip your pants and panties down in one fluid motion, making you cry out.

“Let the whole town watch me fuck you, show everyone who you belong to, who this cunt belongs to.” He knows you too fucking well, knows that you’re thinking about it now, salivating over the thought of someone walking in on you like this, your pants around your ankles, him, balls deep inside of you, taking what he wants. 

“Dirty little girl, out here whorin’ herself out to me so quick. Slut’s just damn desperate for some good fuckin’ cock.”

You hear a sharp zip from somewhere behind you and you struggle out of instinct, pushing up on the hand holding you down. He ignores your protest and slams himself into you, sheathing himself in one fluid motion, giving you no warm-up or time to adjust. 

You expected him to be big, but you weren't expecting this. He's fucking huge, stretching you out and reaching depths you didn't even know existed. You scream out at the sudden burning intrusion and Joel moves the hand that isn't on your neck to your mouth, silencing you halfway through the outburst. 

The tears that fall from your eyes catch on the palm of his hand as he brings his cock almost all the way out before slamming himself back in, setting a brutal pace. 

“Tha’s alright baby, Ima take good care of you,” Joel assures you through gritted teeth. “Make you feel real good creamin’ all over my fat cock.”

Your fingernails scrape the surface of the table once he releases your hands, scrambling for purchase as Joel slams into you without remorse. You’re almost surprised at how quickly you feel the knot in your stomach start to build back up, the pain promptly turning to pleasure as Joel brutally shoves his cock into your already-sore pussy. 

The sounds of Joel's grunts, your muffled sobs, and the squelching of your cunt quickly fill the room, you would be embarrassed if you weren’t so cock-drunk on Joel. Right now, the only thing you can focus on is the way the head of his dick slams into your G-spot with every harsh thrust. 

The way his dick drags against your walls makes you clench with every swift pass. That combined with the way his hips slap against your ass might just be the best thing you’ve ever felt. 

Your body begins to go slack, your stomach and chest pressing harder into the table, you barely even register Joel's hand being removed from your mouth until you hear your unfiltered moans break through. 

“Jus’ wait one second, darlin,” Joel's voice is strained as he talks. You try to nod back at him but find that it's a bit hard when your bones have melted. His pace never falters as he reaches down to where he pulled his pants down just enough to free his thick cock and heavy balls. 

When his hand finds the open buckle of his belt, he tugs it through the loops and uses the edge of the table to fold it once before bringing it to your lips, pushing it toward you until you bite down on it. 

He tells you something, by his tone it sounded like a command, but you can’t seem to make out the request.  If you weren’t drooling before, you certainly are now with the taste of leather on your tongue. Joel smirks to himself as your moans quiet down with the help of the belt. 

“There ya go, such a good girl holdin’ on t’ that for me,” he runs his fingers through your hair as you keen at his praise. He can feel your cunt tighten around him as your second orgasm approaches once again and he has to steel himself so as not to come right then and there like some teenager. Instead, he brings his hand down to touch your clit again, not with his thumb, but with his middle three fingers, rubbing up and down, immediately setting a furious pace. 

The new sensation combined with the pistoning of his hips pushes you over the edge and you have to bite down on the belt so you don't scream as you receive the hardest orgasm you’ve ever had. It's like nothing you’ve ever felt before, the white-hot pleasure almost blinding you, and the force of it almost pushing him out of your cunt. 

You sob as you listen to Joel talk you through it, telling you how good you're doing for him, how you were made for him to stuff his cock into. His pace never falters as you gush around him, but he does push himself further into you so as to not be forced out of you. 

The strength of his thrust is enough to surge you forward, the table screeching on the concrete floor below you as it too is moved forward slightly. After you come down completely from your high, he grasps your hands and tugs them behind your back for leverage, fucking down into you to chase his own pleasure. 

“Goddamn, darlin, tight, young, little cunt, squeezin’ the fuckin’ life outta me.” His dirty words are almost humiliating as he throws them out, but you love every moment of it, the way you clench around his cock giving you away quickly. 

“Oh, you like that, little slut?” he almost sounds surprised as he continues rambling. 

“Filthy little thing, lettin’ some old man stuff his cock into your sweet little pussy. ‘F you didn’t take dick so good I would think you’d be a damn virgin.” You whine beneath him as much as you can with the leather between your teeth, a shameless request for him to keep talking. 

“Yeah, you like that, huh, little girl?” He grants your wish, spewing more filthy comments every few thrusts. “Like bein’ told what a f-fuckin’ whore you are f’ me?” You keep, drooling on the belt trapped between your teeth.

Suddenly, you feel the large hand that was pinning your neck disappear, only to reappear on your ass, making your eyes widen as Joel quickly slides to your other hole, his thumb right above the tight ring of muscle. 

Usually, you would want to struggle, but for some reason, the thought of Joel taking you there is something you find yourself wanting. He feels you squeeze around him again and he chuckles at your desperation. 

“Now, you’re just full of surprises, ain't ya, princess?” He says, his voice even more strangled than it was before. It almost sounds like it should be painful for him to talk. He stops talking for a moment to allow his saliva to drip down and slide down your ass crack. 

“You’d let me fuck you here, wouldn't you, little girl?” Fuck this man, you both know the answer to that. 

“Put my dick in this pretty little ass?” When you don't object, you feel him spit on top of his thumb again before pushing it into you. 

Your eyes roll to the back of your head and your toes curl as he slides his thumb into you until he can’t anymore. The intrusion triggers your third orgasm, your body melting into the table as you press back into him. It’s less intense than the first two, but you are still fully consumed by the waves of pleasure that wash over you.

If you had been standing, you would have fallen to your knees. You’ve never felt so full in your life, the feeling almost overwhelming as he leans on top of you again, continuing to whisper filth into your ear. You can tell he’s getting close by the way he lets go of your wrists and tangles his fingers into your hair, slamming himself somehow even deeper inside of you.  

“Tell me who these fuckin’ holes belong to, princess,” he spews out through gritted teeth, pulling the belt away from your mouth and throwing it somewhere off to the side. 

“Who makes you feel good, makes these little holes feel good?” When you don't answer immediately, your unleashed moans and whimpers making it almost impossible, he uses the hand that’s not fingering your ass to deliver a sharp slap to your left cheek. 

“Fuck, fuck Joel it’s you,” you practically sob as you tell him what he wants to hear, what you want him to hear. 

“T-these holes are yours Joel, you make them feel so good, they belong to you, all yours,” you cry out frantically. Satisfied with your response, he rubs over the red spot on your skin before returning his hand to your neck. 

“That's right,” he praises you softly and you soak up every word. “Such a good fuckin’ girl, knowin’ who she belongs to.” He thrusts into you half a dozen more times before his pace finally starts to falter. 

“W-where do you want me, sweet thing?” As he asks you, all you can think is “fuck this man for being respectful with shit like that.”  If he hadn’t asked, you probably would have shoved him away, but instead, you make another stupid decision—why the fuck not at this point? 

“I-inside, Joel, inside me, oh my god, fucking c-come inside me,” you’re only slightly aware of how desperate you sound as you beg for his cum, but again, you can’t seem to find it in you to care. You let your cheek rest on the cool surface of the table and close your eyes, too exhausted to hold yourself up any longer. 

You hear Joel groan and start to say something above you, but he cuts himself off as he releases inside you with a strangled moan, almost like he is biting down on his lip so as not to shout. 

A stream of curses laced with your name spills from his lips as he twitches and pulses inside you. The feeling of his hot cum spilling into you is unlike anything you’ve ever felt before. It seems like forever before he stills, practically collapsing on top of you, his cum dripping around his softening cock and down your thighs. 

Despite his weight on top of you, you think you could probably manage to fall asleep there. Your body has never felt so spent and tired, every muscle sore in one way or another. Joel waits only a minute before lifting himself off of you, and you attempt to lift your head to follow his movement, only for your cheek to be gently pressed back onto the table by his palm. 

“Jus' hold on a second, princess.” His tone is softer than you’ve ever heard it, and it makes your heart warm, but you can't resist the perfect opportunity to tease him as it presents itself. 

“You’re happier after you get your dick wet,” you say with a small smile as you follow his request, letting your eyes close as you bask in the feeling of euphoria that’s taken over your body. 

At your snippy comment, you expect him to scold you, or maybe to swat your behind, which is still presented for him. What you don’t expect is to feel his tongue on your spent cunt. Your body jolts and your eyes snap open at the unexpected feeling, your reflexes causing you to try to sit up again, only to be pushed down by Joel’s hand on your lower back. 

“I said to wait a second, darlin’,” he says as he pulls away from you, his tone more stern now. He waits until you nod your head to return to your pussy, dipping into your hole and lapping up your mixed release. You shudder as his tongue grazes your overstimulated clit, but do your best to hold still for him. 

After he seems to have gotten his fill, you feel him pull away again and stand up to lean over you. His hand suddenly grabs your chin, making you twist your neck slightly so that you are looking up at him. He keeps his mouth shut as he brings it to his own before squeezing your cheeks, making you open your lips, and drops his jaw open. 

You gasp as you feel the combination of his spit and your cum mixed with his own slowly spill onto your tongue. He keeps his eyes open and locked onto yours as he keeps your lips together and lets the liquid drip into your mouth. When he pulls away, he replaces his lips with his hand, forcing your mouth shut. 

“Swallow,” he commands. You obey without a second thought and let the substance slip down your throat. He smiles when he's sure you’re done and moves his hand, motioning for you to open up. You do, and he smirks as he sees every drop gone. 

“Good girl,” he mutters as he lays back down on top of you, and you let your body rest on the table again, enjoying the feel of his body on top of yours. As the two of you stay there, catching your breath, you feel Joel's chest start to vibrate against your back in silent laughter. You furrow your brows and attempt to stand and roll him off you, but only succeed in the latter, your legs failing as if they were made of jello. 

Joel stands back and tucks himself back into his jeans as you slump back down on the table, temporarily accepting defeat. You see him take a seat in the chair next to you out of the corner of your eye, his chest still rattling the slightest bit. 

“What the fuck do you find so funny, bastard?” You slur your words, your tone is a lot less fierce than you had wanted it to be. He looks at you before answering, and you feel your both heart and your cunt clench at the almost adoring look in his eyes as he meets your gaze. Maybe the asshole will try to be decent for a moment, his expression promising. 

“Looks like your gonna have t’ scrub this table again, princess,” he says, his tone toeing the line of playful. You feel your lips tug up into a smile as you recognize the fact that this is probably Joel being friendly. Or at the very least, he’s not at your throat at the moment—in a bad way anyway—so you’ll take it. Upon seeing your smile, he sits back further and allows himself a small smile of his own as he continues to watch you sink into the polished wood beneath you.

“Fuck you, Miller,” you say. You erupt into a quiet yet delirious fit of exhausted giggles, Joel following soon after with his own gentle chuckle. 

“Might have t’ give me a second for that, princess.”

*****

Pt. 2 here

[queers-gambit]

When It Rains, It Pours

prompt: ( requested ) after a long hike, you and Joel find a rundown motel, and after finding the cleanest room, there's only one bed.

pairing: Joel Miller x female!reader

fandom masterlist: HBO's The Last of Us

word count: 4.4k+

note to requester: i know i said i'd get slutty but it wasn't going the way i wanted it - so, we've come to this. i'm so sorry 😭

warnings: cursing, we all pretend like we're not all dirty and disgusting from the apocalypse, mild mild mild smut but still NSFW [female-receiving fingering]. OC Joel who has a thing for pet names. author doesn't know what this is and promises she normally writes better.

The night was pitch ebony, swirling thick darkness making it hard to see in the absence of the silvery moon. There had been a wicked storm that brewed quickly overnight, and being as you and Joel were making a supply run into an area you don't often venture, it was easy to lose yourselves in the wilderness. If it wasn't the night that disrupted sight, it was the sideways rain that pelted over you two; and no matter a functioning compass or not, it was still hard to fucking see, let alone gage where you were.

"Joel!" You snapped, "This is fucking ridiculous. We're either going to wonder into a fucking trap or catch pneumonia. In case you're not paying attention, we're not exactly strapped with penicillin right now!"

He sighed, the two of you huddling under a tree. "We're almost there," he told you gruffly after hours of silent hiking.

"Yeah? How's it you know that? The rain is washing out the trails, Joel, we're kinda stuck out here with no real indication of where we are or where the fuck we're going!"

"No, we keep heading West - "

"How can you even determine which way is which!?" You snapped. "Our flashlights went out an hour ago, we should've made camp to wait out the storm."

"So the rain water could wash us out? Or so Infected could accidentally stumble upon us? Oh, wait, I know! So the other humans could come and rob us blind before leave us for dead, right?"

You offered a mocking look, "Then what do we do now, genius?"

Joel sighed heavily through his nose, shaking his curls out and spraying water all around. He tried to look through the trees but it was difficult to see three feet in front of yourself. "We should keep moving," he decided.

"I agree but our dilemma is, which way?"

"Uh," he tried to wipe the compass clean but in reality, he simply couldn't see from lack of light. "Shit."

"Yeah! Shit!"

"Don't get snippy with me - "

"I told you at least three miles back that this wasn't doable nor smart," you glared. "We should've been better prepared. So, where to now?"

"Well, I mean - "

"Fuck's sake, Joel, are we lost now?"

He paused, "Not exactly lost..."

"Just unsure, right? A little misplaced? Confused, even?"

"Just - c'mon." You glared at the back of his head but pushed off the tree trunk to follow him. "Bill said there's an old motel 'round these parts. With luck, we can crash there."

"If we're even in those parts," you growled.

"Well, keep an eye out."

"Have I slapped you today?"

Joel hummed, "Nope."

"There's still time," you huffed, yelping slightly when your foot stepped into a thick mud hole - tripping you into the flooding mud. "Ah, fuck! Ow! Hey, Joel?"

"What happened?"

"I'm stuck," You grit, trying to yank your leg free. "Fuck's sake, it's really in there. Joel, c'mon, help me out. What the fuck is this new Earth made of? Bastard ain't budgin'!"

Joel had to pause and double back to simply kneel, soaking his knee with mud, and after three good yanks, there were two pops: a loud one from freeing your foot (with your shoe still on) and a small one from within your ankle.

"Shit," Joel panted, wobbling for balance with a small pant. "You all right?"

"My fuckin' ankle," you breathed. "God, I twisted it real good, 's throbbing and swelling already."

"Think you're good to walk?"

"Gonna have to be," you used his offered hands to help you to your feet as you refused to be left behind as dead weight. In this day-and-age, you understood that injury would often get you left behind because nobody had the strength or ability to support the weak and injured. You tried a few slow, tentative steps but they were decently painful, so, Joel sighed and let your one arm sling around his neck to aid you as a crutch. "This is not ideal."

"No shit," he breathed, trying to keep hold on you, his gun, and keep his head on a swivel.

"Hey, hey, hey, hey, what's that?"

"What's what, where?"

"Just pause, Joel, hang on, hang on," you snipped, tugging his shoulders You took a full minute to retrain your gaze, but then, you saw the outline of a building. "There," you pointed through the trees. "Do you see that?"

Joel squinted for a long moment, then nodded, "Could be the motel."

"Oh, thank you, God," you sighed, the pair of you moving for the motel as the storm drowned out any grunts of exertion. Bolts of lightning flashed to only confirm the building's appearance, and thunder seemed to reach into your bones. When closer, the building came in clearer view - shadowed, rundown, overgrown with vegetation... But with a few opened room doors.

"Here," Joel panted, leaning you on a thick tree trunk along the tree line. "I'll check it out - "

"Like hell you're going alone," you shook your head, pulling your hand gun out. "But it's also cold as shit and I'm drenched, I'm more than willing to help search the area if it means I lay down. C'mon, I can go slow on the ground floor."

Joel paused for a moment, then nodding slowly, "I'll check out the top. Shoot first, ask questions later," he reminded with a meaningful stare - as if he wanted to say more but couldn't. "And fucking run if you have to."

You offered a tired look, "Still givin' me that advice, all this time later?"

"Someone has to, you're chaotic and reckless."

"It's gotten me this far!"

"With bullet wounds."

"Flesh wounds," you instantly corrected, limping across the car park. "C'mon," you muttered, the two of you spacing out and slowly checking out the motel. Without your flashlights, it was ten times as difficult, but you had a little bit of a system.

Any door that opened, you tossed something into the room to rattle any Infected from rest. You'd wait at the open door, hoping the bolts of lightning were enough light to guide you. Some rooms were bolted shut, some literally fell off its hinges. Some were ransacked, some looked torched, others seemed... Lived in.

"Joel!"

"What?" He asked, appearing behind you so suddenly you jumped in fright. The man should often wear a bell, he was too sneaky for his own good.

"Fuck you," you sighed, shaking your head, "you know I'm jumpy."

"What is it? Why'd you call?"

"What's this look like to you?" She asked, pointing into the room as she stepped back. He offered a confused look before glancing in, then doing a double take.

"Gun up," he nodded, slowly taking two calculated steps inside to reach for the oil lamp he saw through the flashes of lightning. He got it lit using the leftover lighter, amazed by the way the lamp provided the room with warm light and also how nothing moved in the room.

It was almost suspicious after years of 'worst case scenarios' coming true. I mean... Look where you were! In the Wastelands of stupid-fucking Zombie World. Doesn't really get more 'worst case' than this!

Slowly, Joel checked out the closet and bathroom as you looked under the bed - wait, wait, wait, wait, hold on a second.

Pause.

Freeze frame.

Back up.

Record scratch.

One bed? Just one?

And as if that wasn't bad enough, it seemed to be unusually small. There was no way this bed belonged to this room, making you wonder from where the old inhabitants came from... Local, perhaps, if they transported a fucking mattress. Looking around, you realized the bed wasn't in the best condition, but there were blankets and thin pillows left behind.

Trying not to worry about the single bed, you poked around the materials in the room, Joel exiting the bathroom.

"We're alone," he nodded, looking skeptical.

"What do you think happened?"

He toed a few empty old cans, sighing, "Probably went out to find food. Not much other reason to leave." He picked up a child's stuffed animal, nodding, "Guess they just didn't make it back."

"All right, well," you shrugged, setting your gun down to lock the bolt on the door, "help me out here."

Joel stepped up and helped you move furniture in front of the door for added protection; then drawing the tattered curtains over the lone window to try and provide comfort in solidarity.

"All right," Joel sighed, staring at the bed like you had. "Hm, all right. Well... Let me get a blanket or two and I'll crash in the tub - "

"Like hell you are," you scoffed, shivering from the freezing rain water. "I'm not listening to you bitch and gripe and moan about your back all the way to Bill and Franks - and then all the way back to Boston."

"So, what? You think we're both gonna fit in that bed?"

You eyed it for a moment, but the cold was settling into your core. "You afraid to touch me or something?" You asked sarcastically. "Oh, right, I forgot, God forbid you get close to someone!"

Joel sighed your name in reprimand.

"What's the issue?" You whined, hands shoved under your arms. "I'm freezing, man, can we make a decision so I can at least have the decency to pass away in my sleep? Fuck's sake."

Joel glared, "That's not funny."

"What's your issue!?"

"It's not so much as us sharing the bed as it is we'd have to strip and share the bed," he tried to explain.

"You're almost 60-God-damn-years-old, but you're nervous about seein' me without clothes on? Are we in 6th grade again? Did we go back in time and I missed it!?"

"You've made it clear since day one you didn't want nothin' to do with me - "

"What the fuck are you on about?" You snapped. "Joel, honestly? You're the most important person in my life. I care about Tommy, I care for Tess, sure, but I wouldn't be gutted losing them. I would be if I ever lost you. So, shut the fuck up about how I didn't want nothin' to do with you, we share a fuckin' apartment - "

"That's because of space issues," Joel sighed.

"Oh, for fuck's sake," you took a long breath. "Joel?"

He rolled his neck out, "What?"

"I care about you," you simply said. "And I'd much rather lay in that bed awkwardly without clothes on, sharing body heat, than stand here another moment. We're both drenched, my ankle is throbbing, and you know what? I'm tired. I'm really fucking tired and that rain isn't letting up."

He sighed, nodding, "We might have to keep shelter for a day."

"So long as I can get warm, that's fucking fine," you shrugged. "Now, are you good? Is it okay to try to rest?"

Joel sighed, glancing at the bed and feeling his throat tighten. The bed was smaller than he hoped, and in honesty, you two would be lucky laying on your sides, pressed against one another, and not fall off. "Fine," he agreed, seeing how you were now trembling without control. "Fuck, I'm sorry, look at you, you're shakin'," he sighed, approaching you with rushed steps.

"Just cold, Joel," you complained, stiffly letting your pack fall off.

"No, you're fuckin' frozen," he sighed. "C'mon, get this jacket off."

"I-I'm tryin'."

"Want help?"

"Please, I'm just fuckin' tired," you groaned, letting your forehead fall to his shoulder as he worked to shed your outer jacket.

"Work with me, sweetheart, lift your arms, there you go, that's it, good girl," he whispered, trying to help you peel more layers off. "You look like hell," he frowned, the flickering oil lamp providing minimal visuals from the shadowing, but in a warm, honied light.

"Feel like hell, too," you looked down your leg, sighing at the mud caked up them. "You look at peachy as ever," you tried to tease, but it came out in a shudder from a shocking wave of cold.

"Sit," Joel directed, turning you to lean on the bed's edge. He knelt to take your boots off - taking care of your injured ankle - and left your shoes at the bottom of the bed. He peeled your socks off, sighing as your toes were turning a slight shade of blue. "All right, quickly now. Lift your hips, let me get your pants off."

"Tryna get me naked, huh?" You grunted, flopping backwards on the bed.

"Keep talkin'," he grunted, unhooking the button on your jeans to start peeling them down. It turned into more of a shucking, and he tried not to notice how your panties tugged down, too.

"This is stupid."

"Yeah?"

"Mhm. Bill gave us fried information, Joel, ain't shit out here."

"He was right about the motel, though. Maybe we get a fresh start when the storm clears."

"Maybe we just say fuck it and go live with Bill and Frank."

Joel chuckled, "Yeah? That's what we should do?"

"Yeah, fuck people."

"All right, now," he sighed, successfully getting your pants to your thighs without your panties following. "So, fuck people, we go live like hermits?"

"Yep, better than under FEDRA's heel."

"They pay good money for pills," he reminded, sighing deeply. "All right, little one - "

"I hate that nickname."

Joel sighed, seeing your eyes closed but brows crinkled. "Peach?"

"Yeah, that's the one I like," you hummed with a soft smile.

Joel allowed himself a solemn chuckle, "All right, peach, let's get you under the covers."

"Poor excuse for 'em," you grunted, rolling over a bit to shuffle under the blankets. "They're scratchy."

"They're wool," Joel noted, petting the blanket. "They'll warm you up."

"Can't feel my toes."

"Let's hope your lips go numb soon."

"Fuck off, I blame you for this."

"You blame me for the storm?"

"Yes," you grumbled, shifting under the blankets to take your last layer off - your tank top - and tossing it at Joel. Your bra followed. "Lay those out for me, will you?"

"Mhm," he grunted, doing as you bid, but also laying out your other clothes. Your eyes didn't open out of pure exhaustion, and after a few minutes, Joel's weight was dipping the mattress. "Feelin' all right, peach?"

"Mhm."

The oil lamp went out, and Joel shifted in bed. "Fuck's sake," he muttered, trying to adjust, but every movement jolted your body. The mattress was worn and old, sinking under your weight but still loose enough to jostle you around. "Sorry, sorry."

"It's all right, but just settle down, Joel, please," you sighed, eyes cracked as he still twitched around. "Oh, my God, please, just - spoon me or something. Just whatever gets you to lay still."

"It's just too small a space."

"Then get closer."

Joel sighed and shuffled once more, but then, his chest was pressed right up to your back and soon, you were being cocooned in his warmth. Another readjustment, and his legs were forming around yours. "All right?" He checked again.

"Mhm."

He sighed, "Can I lay my arm down?"

"Yeah," and now, your eyes were wide open, but in the pitched darkness of the room, Joel couldn't tell. His arm, thick with undefined muscle due to natural age-deterioration, laid over your hip and waist - trying to find a comfortable angle. "You're warm. Feels nice," you mumbled.

"I'm... Sorry?"

"No, no, it's good," you assured, trying to throw him a bone and took hold of his arm to pull him the last inch closer. You cradled his arm to your chest, and Joel sighed almost in relief. He soon started to relax - but you couldn't help but notice he still felt tense.

"You're shaking."

"I'm cold, shut up and go to sleep," you snipped, but your lips stretched in a smirk. His nose slowly traced the skin of your neck to rest just by your ear, pausing, and then tightening his arm to let himself rest in the crook of your neck. His breath was warm over your skin, and oh, fuck, did it feel good. In fact, you even hummed, mumbling, "Warm."

"You sound drunk."

"You fucking wish."

Joel sighed, his other arm easily sliding under the skimpy, thin, decaying pillows you used. For a singular, secular moment: everything was normal. There were no Infected. There was no end of the world. There was just you and Joel, maybe on a camping vacation and this was your night in a motel before hiking into the wilderness. He was warm, he was alive, he was breathing against your back and neck that you couldn't help but give a brief moment of thanks for the gentle reminder you two were okay for the present.

You were alive, and that was a huge relief.

Things seemed to quiet for a moment, until Mother Nature made her cruel reminder that She was the only force on Earth to be reckoned with by cracking a large boom of thunder. One so loud, it rattled the window. One so loud, it created small tremors in the pooling-waters. One so loud, soaking-wet leafs dropped from branches. One so loud, it made you jump and recoil back into Joel.

"You're okay," he eased in your ear, cracks of lightning flashing behind the thin, moth-eaten curtains. "Scared of thunder or somethin'?"

"No."

"Then why's your heart racing?"

It was only then you became acutely aware that when you jumped, you had subconsciously pulled Joel's arm in and his hand was nearly pressed over your entire breast. Just a hair's adjustment and he'd have hold of your nipple; the feeling exhilarating but also somehow forbidden. "Oh," you flinched in embarrassment, "sorry, I just... I'm not the biggest fan of thunder when it cracks like that."

"You're breathing funny."

"All right, this isn't gonna work if you're just gonna keep pointing out shit. I can do it to you, too, you know."

"But I'm not - "

"You're hard," you pointed out smugly, Joel going silent.

But then, you didn't expect him to gruffly reply, "Can you blame me?" Your breathing stuttered when his hand freely moved up to palm your breast tightly; kneading as if holding a fresh loaf of French bread. "Got the prettiest thing pressed against me, bare fuckin' naked, it'd be impossible not to be hard," he all but growled in your ear, you trying to clear your head as his actions were mesmerizing you. "Don't even know what you do to me, doll, do you?"

"No," you squeaked, gulping to clear your throat. "Gonna tell me?"

He chuckled, "Remember that real bad fight between Tess and I? Few years back? When she stormed out and slammed the door so loud, it knocked over those books?"

"Yeah?" You panted, slowly pushing your hips back to let your bottom grind into his bulge. You wore only your panties, feeling Joel hot and heavy against the curve of your ass through his thin and wearing-out boxers. He usually only liked wearing them for hikes for chaffing, so, most days in the QZ, he forwent boxers.

"It was cause of you," he whispered, both hands sure to leave bruises behind as he let his hips meet yours.

"I didn't - "

"No, doll, you ain't do nothin'," he cut you off, grunting slightly as he dry humped into you. "But I fucked up. I was so stuck in my head, it was durin' that heat wave. You wore that fuckin' grey tanktop and I was done for, girl. Hear me? Fuckin' done." You shuddered against him. "Felt like a God damn teen again, not sure what to do when he saw a woman's skin."

"What's you do?" You wondered.

"Might've said your name," he admitted, the hand not palming your breast snaking under your form to wiggle between your thighs. "Women don't like you bein' balls-deep in them, sayin' another woman's name."

"No, we certainly don't," you mused, reaching back for his neck.

Joel took this as invitation and rutted harder into you, letting your breast go to guide your leg back over his hip. Then, it darted back to grope the warm flesh. He grunted in your ear, "You were in my head, darlin'. Always have been, but it was real bad back then."

You remembered, "Because I was seein' that guy? Oliver?"

"Think so," he panted.

"Jealous?"

"Terribly," Joel growled, toying with your wet (from rain) panties for a moment before easing his hand into the front of your panties. "Jesus fuckin' Christ, girl," he noted in appreciation.

"It's from the rain."

"Yeah? That so?"

"Uh-huh."

"Even down here?" He smirked, middle finger ghosting over your slit to make you twitch with the smallest of gasps. Long forgotten were your freezing cold state, finding Joel similar to a personal furnace.

Okay, time for a little bit of truth. Ever since you started having "regular" sex, you learned that while cocks are nice, it's so much more pleasurable for you to have a man with skilled fingers. You liked that stimulation so much better for some reason - but hey, hey, hey, if Joel wanted to offer you a romp in the sheets, you wouldn't say no.

"Yep," you gulped, answering your companion and reaching for his other hand to forcefully grope your breast. It'd been far too long since you were intimate with another person, so, you didn't want nice and gentle. You weren't even sure if this thing with Joel would (or could) ever happen again, so, you really didn't want it nice and gentle.

"Darlin'," Joel warned, moaning in your ear as he slipped his finger inside you - wetness welcoming him like a vortex into your unknown. "I don't think I can stop - we should stop now. We should stop now, doll, c'mon."

"I'm not doin' anythin'," you whispered, whining when he pushed a second finger in.

"So fuckin' good for me," he grit.

"Joel? Joel?"

"What's wrong - "

"No, nothing, I just - I want this, too. I don't want you to stop."

"You don't mean that - "

"Joel, however long you've wanted me is probably almost as long as I've wanted you. Please," you whispered your beg. "I just want to feel you. Give me a bit of life, Joel, baby, please, I just want to feel alive."

Joel sighed your name, and you pushed his hands off to lift onto your hands and twist around. He looked up at you for a moment before reaching up to hook his hand around your neck and pull you forward until your lips collided in a frenzy of lips, teeth, and tongue.

Joel knew kissing you was a bad idea, but he was out of fucks to give at the moment. He wanted this, so, he'd relish in it.

He had you, he finally had you - and he wasn't about to give you up for the fucking world. He sighed before completely submitting himself to your charm; to you.

Knowing he had fucked someone more recently than you, you reached for the outline of his straining member and reacquainted yourself with the feel of a cock - of a hard cock hidden beneath fabric. Joel was right, you were starting to feel that juvenile excitement as if this was your first time again, and how you loved it.

Your lover moaned into your mouth, nearly hissing at the feel of your hand over his hot cock; trying to gulp down the feeling and not bust his load right then and there. "Can I take these off?" Joel asked, toying with your panties.

"Please," you breathed, helping him shed your last layer of decency before hitching your leg up his hip again and exposing your cunt to his wondering hands. Your moan was broken and whimpered when he pushed two fingers in again, letting go of him for a moment before latching onto his arm when Joel increased the speed of him tempo.

You begged his name for reprieve, but there was no mercy to be found in Joel's actions. You whimpered and shoved your face in his neck, unconsciously humping into his ministrations as Joel slowed himself into sweeping motions to search for you G-spot. You couldn't remember the last time you had such a diligent love, most simply thinking the clit was enough - and while it was with a vibrator, it wasn't if your sexual partner didn't know where the fucking clit was!

However, Joel proved he was well-versed in how to please a woman, and while he wasn't a regular Casanova, he was determined to bring you to your peak. "There, there," you jolted when his finger pad found that spongy-good spot inside your inner walls that, when stimulated, had you seeing stars. "Oh, my God, yes, yes, fuuuck yes," you whimpered, needing to open your mouth to latch onto his shoulder as your climax reared its white-hot head.

"C'mon, darlin', lemme feel you," Joel muttered, his Southern accent coming out into play more as he reached for your clit at the same time. The combined efforts had you ready to cry. "I know you're there, c'mon, c'mon, baby, want you to cum all over my fingers, c'mon - yeah, like that, good fuckin' girl, there it is," he coached, watching you closely as you briefly forgot to breathe.

You would've been ashamed of the moan you let out if anyone else was around, and if the storm didn't drown you out; Joel praising you for doing 'so good' for him as he stared down to watch you twitch and cum - coating his hand.

You didn't usually squirt unless your G-spot was hit, and Joel seemed mesmerized by the messy action as well as the sight. It made him feel both prideful and primal to see himself splattered with your juices. However, it wasn't enough to distract Joel for long - who didn't let up. He kept you going by never removing his fingers, and instead, watched as he coaxed you through your epic ride. "That was better than I imagined, baby," Joel admitted quietly.

"You might change your mind before the sun comes up."

"Oh, yeah?"

"Yep. I wanna be on top."

Joel paused for a moment, blinking at you, then decided, "Maybe for one of the rounds - but the first one, I'll be the one fucking you."

With a growing smirk, you taunted, "Bring it on, cowboy."

author isn't very confident writing NSFW, but hey, practice makes perfect, right?

requesting rules and masterlist

TLOU masterlist

[sixhours]

happy birthday, baby girl - birth day

Ellie has never had a birthday. Joel can fix that.

Series masterlist | Read on AO3 | In progress

Rating: Teen Chapter tags: The Last of Us, The Last of Us (HBO), Joel and Ellie, Ellie Williams, Joel Miller, birthdays, swearing, canon-compliant, angst, mentions of childbirth and babies Words: 5.4k

Notes: A bunch of birthday one-shots loosely based on this headcanon. This might be a five-times/one-time fic in disguise, it hasn't decided yet.

Ellie comes out of sleep to the sounds of a house waking up.

Knocking. The crackle of oil in a skillet. A door opening, footsteps downstairs. Murmurs, low voices, Joel’s and…someone else.

She squints at the clock on her nightstand; 6:35 . Her alarm hasn’t even gone off yet. Grumbling, she pulls the blanket back over her head to try to shut out the noise and almost manages it…but then she hears the telltale tread of boots on the stairs and a light knock before her bedroom door creaks open.

“Mornin’, kiddo.”

She turns over and glares at Joel, haloed by the hallway light. He hesitates at the threshold; he always does. This room has a history for them, ugly pink stripes and all. Sometimes Ellie likes that it still makes him uncomfortable after all these weeks in Jackson, worries at it like a canker sore with her tongue.

“C’mon, man. It’s too early.”

“I know. But that was Tommy downstairs–looks like Maria’s havin’ the baby.”

“Oh, shit.”

“Yeah, that’s ‘bout what he said,” he mutters.

“So like…right now?” she asks, sitting up and pulling the comforter to her chin.

“Not quite. She’s in labor.”

“How does that…work?”

He blinks and gapes, that same stunned look she saw in the rearview mirror when she asked about Bill’s dirty magazines. “How…uh, they didn’t, uh, cover that in–”

“Gross, dude. No, I mean how does that work here ? Is Maria at the clinic, or…?”

“Oh, right,” he breathes, shoulders sagging. “No, she’s at home, there’s a, uh, midwife, I think. Won’t bring the doctor in unless things go bad.”

There’s a sinking, twisting feeling in her stomach at that. She’d known Maria was pregnant, of course, and she knew how babies were born. FEDRA school was shit, but every kid with a uterus started hormone shots when they hit puberty, and they made them watch that one awful childbirth video every year as an extra deterrent. Until now, with Joel standing in the door and talking about things going bad, she hadn’t connected the dots.

“But…things look good, right?”

“Oh, it’s…yeah, kiddo, everything’s gonna be fine,” Joel says, his voice registering a bit too high to be believable. “Tommy said everything’s fine, Maria’s good, baby’s fine…nothin’ to worry about. It’s…gonna be…everything’s gonna be…fine.”

That’s way too many “fines” for things to actually be fine. He follows this abysmal performance with a smile that’s so thin it’s practically transparent. Maybe she’s imagining it, but she thinks she can see his eye twitch. Sometimes she wonders if he knows he’s a bad liar or if he’s really fucking clueless.

“Look, I know I said we’d go camping tomorrow, but I gotta change plans,” he continues. “Tommy needs someone to cover his patrol shifts, ‘least for this week.”

“Oh,” her face falls before she can rearrange her expression into something neutral. “Alright.”

“I’m sorry, kiddo, I just…he needs us right now.”

“I get it,” she shrugs.

“Promise I’ll make it up to ya once they have his rotations covered, alright?”

She shrugs again, swallows hard. This is so much to process and she’s just barely woken up.

“I gotta go, gotta get the horses ready,” he says. “I’ll leave breakfast. You good to get yourself to school?”

“You mean like I do every day?”

“Right,” he nods. “Okay. Should be home for dinner–”

“Whatever,” she says flatly.

“I–”

“Dude, I’m fine,” she groans, throwing herself back into the bed and yanking the covers over her head. “Go.”

He lingers for a moment, then sighs. “Have a good day, kiddo.”

“Bye.”

She waits until she hears the screen door slam and Joel's boots on the porch steps before tossing off the blanket in a huff. There’s no way she’s getting back to sleep now. Stupid Joel and this stupid family and their stupid baby–

No, no, she takes that back, bile rising hot and thick in the back of her throat. No, the baby needs to be okay, Maria needs to be okay, they’ve lost too much already. Her disappointment over the camping trip wilts and withers in the face of a worst-case scenario. All she can hear are Joel’s paper-thin assurances– fine, fine, fine .

She lingers in bed long after her alarm has gone off, throwing on her jeans and a shirt in a rush. Downstairs, she pointedly ignores the plate of scrambled eggs and toast and sliced apples Joel left on the stove, suppressing a gag at the smell of fresh coffee in the air. Her appetite is fickle at the best of times and this is definitely not the best of times. She shoves her feet into her shoes without bothering to tie the laces and grabs her backpack from the hook by the door.

The other Miller house is surprisingly calm as she steps onto the porch. She half expected to hear Maria’s cries of pain echoing across the street, but the place is quiet, nothing to suggest this is anything but an ordinary day.

She drags her feet all the way to school, earning a look from Mrs. Abraham when she creeps into class just after the first bell, and the next two hours pass in an agonizing crawl. Every time she looks at the clock at the front of the classroom, the minute hand seems to taunt her, barely moving at all. Twice she puts her head down on her desk just to feel the press of the cool wood against her forehead, twice she gets a light poke on the shoulder and a frown from the teacher in warning. While Mrs. Abraham drones on about quadratic equations, all she can think about is Joel’s pathetic attempt to reassure her this morning– everything’s gonna work out fine , yeah, right.

Dina makes it worse by cornering her in the hall between second and third period.

“I heard someone’s gonna have a new cousin soon.”

A cousin.

Ellie doesn’t respond, pretending to look for something at the back of her locker. Dina isn’t so bad…usually. She’s one of the few who’s made an effort despite Ellie’s clear attempts to blow her off. But right now, the last thing she needs is her chirpy, Polly Positive bullshit.

“So d’you think she’ll have the baby today, or–”

“How the hell should I know?” Ellie snaps, slamming her locker door. “I’m stuck here, same as you.”

“Jeez, what’s your problem?”

Ellie doesn’t answer, just brushes past her and makes for the bathroom as the third period bell rings. Fuck it, she’ll skip. Mr. Henderson manages to make science boring as shit, anyway.

Once the halls have cleared out, she sneaks out the back of the school and escapes into the yard, trekking past the school garden and the little kids’ playground toward the greenhouses. The raspberry bushes are thick this time of year, mostly picked over, but they make a good place to hide. She crawls between the rows and plants herself toward the back, out of sight of the gardeners working in the greenhouses and the fields on the other side. Her stomach growls and she plucks a few of the forgotten, overripe berries from the lowest branches, letting them burst with tart sweetness on her tongue. The juice stains her fingers a bloody red, dampening her appetite as quickly as it came.

She pulls out one of her comics and tries to read, but the story is too familiar to hold her attention. While Dr. Daniela Star is preparing to take on the threat posed by a strange alien lifeform, her mind keeps drifting back to Maria, to hormone shots, then to Dina’s words.

A new baby cousin.

“Cousin” implies Tommy is her uncle and Maria is her aunt, which means Joel is her…well, what the fuck does Dina know, anyway?

She shoves her comic back into her bag and flops onto her back in the dirt, wincing at the brightness of the summer sky. Her shoulders are sticky with sweat and she scratches at her scar over her sleeve. She wonders what Joel is doing. He only started patrol shifts a couple weeks ago, but every time he leaves, a hollow knot of worry takes up residence behind her breastbone.

She wishes desperately for her old Walkman, that she could put on some headphones and crank up the volume to drown out her thoughts. Instead, she watches a bumblebee dip and buzz among the raspberry branches, finally alighting on a leaf. She digs her fingers into the soil to feel the cool earth and takes a deep breath the way Joel showed her–in for four, hold for four, out for four. The knot loosens a tiny fraction.

When she can't listen to her mind run in circles any longer, she heads to the cafeteria for lunch, blending in with the line of kids coming from school. It’s her favorite today, grilled cheese and tomato soup and carrot sticks, but one bite of the sandwich sends her stupid stomach roiling. She chokes it down with a glass of water and a spoonful of soup, but spends the rest of her lunch break picking her food into tiny pieces that she can’t eat. She pockets the carrots for Shimmer and leaves before anyone notices.

She fully intends to skip the rest of the school day and hide in the hayloft or the greenhouse until her shift at the stables, but no such luck. She’s passing the school when she hears a familiar voice call her name.

“Ellie Williams.”

Mrs. Abraham is standing at the edge of the schoolyard, beckoning her over with one crooked finger.

“Fuuuuuuck,” Ellie groans, but she turns around and trudges back.

“A little bird told me you weren’t here for third period. You were missed.”

Ellie scowls. “Was it Dina?”

“Actually, it was Mr. Henderson,” she says, cocking an eyebrow and biting back a smirk. “He said there was, and I quote, ‘a distinct lack of foul language’ during the lecture on climate systems. Like I said, you were missed.”

Ellie bites her lip, thinking fast. “Joel said he needed me for something after lunch.”

“Your dad is on patrol today,” she says wryly. “I know this because so is my wife. No one has radioed.”

Fucking fuck.

“Yeah, but he told Tommy and–“

“And I know your uncle and aunt are otherwise occupied,” she continues. “I heard all about it from Dr. Tsu at lunch. Very exciting, you’re going to have a new family member soon.”

“I guess,” Ellie mutters.

“Tell you what,” she says. “I won’t tell your dad that you skipped class if you go straight to Mr. Henderson and pick up your make-up work after school–”

“Fine.”

“ And you have to promise not to skip the rest of the day. Deal?”

The question in her tone is meant to make it seem like a choice, but Ellie knows better. If she tries to cut class again, Joel will hear about it. He probably wouldn’t even care that much, but he’d be annoyed at having to deal with her teachers. The last time she got in trouble, he’d pulled the, “I’m not mad, I just know you’re smarter than that,” card and that had felt worse than any punishment.

Ellie stares at the ground and gives Mrs. Abraham a tight nod, digging her nails into her palms.

“Good. Now, let’s get you back where you’re meant to be.”

Ellie rolls her eyes and stomps into school, back to her next class. Dina gives her a what the hell look when she takes her seat in a huff, but at least she keeps her big mouth shut.

The rest of the day drags on in a monotonous slog. Her knee won’t stop bouncing, eraser end of the pencil tapping frantically on her notebook until stupid Michael Sumner at the next desk glares at her. She flips him the bird with one nail-bitten finger.

She watches the classroom door, hoping for Joel’s broad, flannel-clad frame to appear and dismiss her early. Then she decides that would probably mean bad news, so she switches to willing him not to appear. But what if she’s wishing for him not to show up and something bad happens? She was kind of a shit to him this morning, even though it’s not his fault he had to cancel their camping trip. Sure, he said patrols were usually uneventful and “downright borin’ on the best days,” but with her luck, today will be the not-boring kind.

Fuck. What if the last thing she ever said to him is “bye”?

By the time the last bell rings, she’s ready to crawl out of her skin. She throws herself down the hall, doesn’t bother to pick up her science homework. She slams through the double doors and outside into the warm sun, desperate to get away.

At least she has stable duty to look forward to. As soon as she enters the barn, the familiar scents of fresh hay and leather polish calm her a little. She slings her backpack down in the corner and goes straight to Shimmer’s stall.

“Hey, girl,” she whispers. “You all alone today?”

“She’s been waitin’ for ya.”

Bryce, the stable manager, speaks up from his desk in the little office. He’s a wiry old man with white hair and kind eyes who likes to joke that he’s sharper than the average breadstick, which makes no fucking sense, but Ellie gets the impression it’s not supposed to.

She smiles a little and strokes Shimmer’s velvety soft nose. “She’s getting so big.”

“Uh-huh. Don’t get too comfy in there, young miss. Need ya to muck out number three ‘fore the patrols get back.”

Ellie does, shoveling out the stall and laying fresh shavings down, cleaning and filling the water and feed troughs. When that’s done, she takes her break and spends more time with Shimmer, brushing her down and sneaking her the carrots from her pocket when Bryce isn’t looking.

Her shift is supposed to end at four, but she lingers to finish mucking out one more stall and clean the spare tack. Joel promised to meet her after, but that was before he went out on patrol. His group isn’t back yet, anyway. When the work is no longer enough to keep her worries at bay, she approaches Bryce in the office.

“Hey…any word from the group that went out this morning?”

“Nothin’ on the radio, young miss. Should be back soon, though. No news is good news.”

That’s a fucking lie, she thinks dully, going back to spread fresh shavings in the last stall. No news could mean Joel is lying dead in a ditch somewhere. No news could mean Tommy is a widower or a childless father or both. No news is bullshit.

Finally, she can’t come up with any more excuses to hang around and Bryce shoos her away, tells her to go home and wash up and get dinner. “Too damn skinny to be working so hard,” he says, and she bites her tongue on a few choice “cuss words”, as Joel calls them, because she likes the stables and she likes the horses and she even likes Bryce when he’s not being a dick.

She walks slowly down Rancher Street, dreading the unknown expanse of time until Joel gets home. It’s still daylight, but their house looms like a dark, empty shadow.

Just then, Tommy steps onto the porch at the house across the street. He’s wearing flannel pajama bottoms and a plain white t-shirt, his normally shiny curls flat and mussed, feet bare. Ellie stops short, barely recognizing the man without his denim and cowboy boots.

He doesn’t notice her at first, just kind of stares off into space, and her stomach clenches. Her feet begin moving toward him without her permission, and Tommy finally comes to when he sees her at the curb.

“Hey, Ellie girl.”

She opens her mouth, meaning to greet him, but what comes out is a rush of questions.

“Where’s Maria? Is the baby here? Is it–”

He holds up a hand, eyes tired but calm. “Baby’s not here yet, but everythin’s fine,” he says evenly.

“Oh. Shouldn’t you be, like, up there?”

He sighs and takes a seat on the top step, tips his head to the spot next to him. Tommy is familiar now, even safe, but she still sits a couple steps down, keeping some space between them.

“Just takin’ a breather,” he sighs. “Maria’s orders. Says things are probably gettin’ real interestin’ soon and I need a clear head.”

Ellie glances up at the house. “Is Maria okay? Is it…bad?”

“Oh, a little labor pain ain’t nothin’ for that woman. Don’t gotta worry about her, sweetheart,” he chuckles. “This is the easy part, everythin’ that comes after…that’s where the real fun is.”

Somehow his reassurances land right where she needs them, some of the day’s fear untwining itself from her ribs. She takes a deep breath, that hollowed-out spot soothed a little by the fresh air and the company.

“No Joel yet, huh?” he asks as if reading her mind.

She shakes her head.

He nods thoughtfully. “S’just a normal run. No news is–“

“Ugh, don’t say it,” she groans. “I know, I get it, he’s fine.”

“Okay, then,” he sighs, looking out over their street, content to sit quietly.

But her worry grows in the silence, so soon she peers up at him. “Were you there when Sarah was born?”

“Oh…yeah, yeah, I was. In the waitin’ room ‘til all hours. She kept us waitin’ awhile. Always did things on her own time like that, right from the get-go,” he smiles.

He gets the same soft look in his eyes that Joel does when he talks about Sarah, the look that makes her heart clench. She wonders if there was anyone in the waiting room for her, if there was even a waiting room at all. Probably not, on both counts.

“I was the first one to hold her…after her mama and daddy, of course. Weren’t much older than you are now,” he says, still smiling, though there’s a slight tremble in his chin now. “Felt pretty special, though. She was so small. Joel was hoverin’ over my shoulder the whole time, all puffed up like a damn peacock.”

She tries to picture Joel with a baby and can’t do it. She’s seen his hands broken and scarred and bloody, can’t imagine them holding something so fragile, so pristine. He’s gentle with her, of course, but she’s the furthest thing from pure.

“That girl had us both wrapped around her little finger from day one,” Tommy murmurs, then nudges her shoulder with his knee. “Not unlike another kid I know.”

She stares at her hands, all ragged cuticles and chewed fingernails. Then footsteps at the door, the midwife’s voice calling from inside. “Tommy? She’s asking for you.”

“You alright on your own?” he frowns, visibly torn. “Your old man should be back any minute–”

“I’m fine,” she says quickly, wiping her palms on her jeans and standing up. “Good luck, I guess.”

He gives her a tired wink. “Here goes nothin’.”

She makes her way down the little walk, resigned to returning to the empty house across the street, when she sees a familiar figure turn the corner at the end of the cul-de-sac. Relief spurs her forward until she’s practically running at him, colliding with Joel in the middle of the road.

“Whoa…easy, kid.”

She buries her face in his chest, traitorous eyes welling with tears. She presses into him harder, wraps her arms around his waist and melts even more when she feels one big, rough paw come up to cradle the back of her head.

“Everythin’ alright?” he asks carefully.

“S’fine,” she mutters, still clinging to him like a barnacle. “Baby’s not here yet.”

“Ah. Well, takes time, I guess.”

She sniffs. “Tommy said things’re good, though.”

“Glad to hear it,” he says, murmuring low into her hair. “Sure you’re okay, kiddo?”

“Uh-huh,” she mumbles, throat tight. If she tries to say more she’ll start bawling, so she holds on tight and waits for her heart to settle. When she finally pulls back, he’s watching her with concern, but he doesn’t ask questions and he doesn’t mention the tears now drying on the front of his shirt, thank fuck.

“How was patrol?” 

“Nothin’ special. That Jesse kid got his horse caught up on an old perimeter fence, took a while to get ‘im loose. How was school?”

She shrugs, wipes at her eyes. “Stupid. As usual.”

That earns her a smirk.

“Why don’t we go back to the house and get cleaned up ‘fore dinner?” he wrinkles his nose. “You smell like a horse.”

“You smell like an asshole,” she fires back, but her smile betrays her. That hollow under her breastbone is full. The scary things always feel lighter when she’s with him.

“Takes one to know one, you little punk,” he mutters, giving her ponytail a gentle tug as they walk back to their house.

After showers, they head to the caf to get dinner. It’s busy tonight, the dining hall aromatic with the smells of garlic and fresh-baked bread and thrumming with friendly chatter. Ellie’s stomach gives a loud growl as they wait in the serving line, and she eats her fill of vegetable soup and goes back for more, dipping her buttered oat bread in her bowl so it soaks up the last of the broth.

“Slow down,” Joel chides as she’s slurping up her second bowl of soup.

“But m’starving,” she mutters, mouth full of bread.

“If y’ate your damn breakfast–”

She blinks up at him, shoving another giant hunk of bread in her mouth.

“Yeah, don’t think I didn’t notice,” he sighs.

“Wasn’t hungry then,” she counters. “M’hungry now.”

Several people approach them while they’re eating to ask about the new baby, to ask how Maria and Tommy are faring, and to send their well-wishes. More than once, Ellie has to stop shoveling bread and soup into her mouth to tell them what she knows.

There’s custard for dessert with fresh whipped cream, and when she finally puts down her spoon, her jeans feel snug and she thinks she could fall asleep right here in the middle of the caf, with Joel at her side and a full stomach and the buzz of conversation around them. She leans into him and lets her eyes close, comforted by the familiar softness of his t-shirt against her cheek. She must have drifted off, because soon Joel is nudging her awake.

“Hey, sleepyhead. Time to go home.”

Home.

Joel grabs extra food from the kitchen before they leave, a jar of vegetable soup and packets of baked chicken and warm crusty bread for Tommy and Maria. They walk back to Rancher Street with the food in a tote, prepared to leave it on the porch, but Tommy sees them coming and meets them outside, a little breathless.

“Y’all wanna come meet the new kid in town?”

She feels Joel tense at her side and the day’s nerves resettle like a heavy stone alongside the food in her stomach.

“You have a niece, big brother,” he says, clapping Joel on the back and pulling him into a fierce hug. Ellie has to look away because the mushy stuff makes the sinking feeling worse. Then Joel’s hand is on her shoulder, squeezing like he needs something to hold onto.

“C’mon.”

They’re ushered upstairs and into the bedroom, lit by the glow of a single lamp. Maria is sitting up in bed holding the new baby, tired but smiling.

“It’s a girl?” Ellie asks, unable to stop herself from leaning over the bed to peer at the swaddled bundle. 

“A girl,” Maria confirms, carefully angling the baby so Ellie can see her face, all scrunched up, poking out from the soft yellow blanket. “She’s had a hard day, but she’s eight pounds of pure spitfire.”

“Just like her mama,” Tommy preens. “You wanna hold her?”

It takes a moment for Ellie to realize he’s talking to her.

She hesitates until Joel gently nudges her forward. “Go ahead, kiddo.”

She’d held babies at the orphanage, but never one so new. She’s nervous as Tommy places the baby in her arms.

“Hold her head, just like that; neck’s a li’l floppy.”

She does, cradling her with one hand on her bottom and the other supporting her neck. The solid weight and warmth of her against her chest is soothing. The baby seems to melt into her, settling with a stretch and a sigh under Ellie’s chin.

“What’s her name?” she whispers, absently stroking the back of her head the way Joel sometimes does with her.

“Isabel,” Maria says. “Isabel Sofia.”

“Hi, Isabel,” she whispers against the girl’s curly brown head. “I’m Ellie.”

“S’your cousin, baby girl,” Tommy says, touching Isabel’s back, and the word falls around Ellie’s shoulders like a shirt that doesn’t quite fit. The baby gives a tiny, sleepy grunt, and a new feeling swells and burns bright as a comet in Ellie’s chest.

Joel leans in the door frame, arms folded, expression unreadable in the low light. He hasn’t said much, just a few murmured words to Maria asking how she’s feeling, offering to help while she’s recovering. All the while he’s watching Ellie and the baby with wan hesitation. She looks over at him, grinning.

“She’s all wrinkly…just like Uncle Joel.”

Tommy doesn’t even try to suppress a snort of laughter. Even Maria is hiding a smile behind her hand.

“Yeah, laugh it up,” Joel grumbles. “You see how you look when that one’s fifteen an’ turnin’ your hair gray with her sass.”

“Dude, you were old waaaay before you met me. Like a fuckin’ dinosaur.”

“At least half these grays have your name on ‘em, kid.”

“Bullshit,” she says easily, but she’s already lost interest, too busy examining the little hand that has escaped the swaddling blanket. “Whoa. She’s so tiny. Joel, come see!”

“I saw, kiddo. She’s, uh…she’s real pretty.”

“Gets that from her mama too,” Tommy says, and Maria rolls her eyes.

“Thomas Miller, save your flattery for when I’m not wearing a goddamn diaper.”

“Never looked more beautiful, baby.”

“Your parents are gross,” Ellie whispers to Isabel; the baby sleeps on, unconcerned.

When the conversation wanes, she looks up to find Joel still eyeing them. 

“You gonna hold her or what?” she asks.

He winces, and for a moment, she thinks he’s going to say no. Then he ducks his head in a nod.

“Alright. Give her here.”

He scoops up the baby with practiced ease and tucks her against his chest. There’s no awkward fumbling, none of his former hesitance. He sways on his feet, looking down at the little girl, whispering something Ellie can’t make out. He smiles then, a sad but inescapable thing, and she feels that stone in her stomach grow and grow, all their earlier light-hearted teasing forgotten.

She watches his hands, big enough to span the baby’s back, rubbing in slow circles, and she realizes she was wrong. Those hands had been broken and bloodied for her, they’d killed for her, but they were made for this.

When the grown-ups start talking about Maria’s maternity plans and patrol schedules and how the council will get by for a few weeks without her, she slips out of the room and goes downstairs.

She wants to run. She wants to curl up on the couch and sleep. She wants Joel to hold her like he did earlier, palm to the back of her head so she can hide from the world.

It’s too much; the phantom weight of the baby on her chest and the comet within, your cousin , the smile on Joel’s face even as he looked like he wanted to cry. Isabel was barely two hours old and she’d already embedded herself in their family, slotted into place like a missing puzzle piece. It’s not jealousy–it’s not–but the thought of Joel’s hands on the little girl’s back fills her with a yearning she doesn’t have words for.

She finds herself standing at the mantle.

Sarah, 7/20/89 - 9/27/03

Kevin, 4/3/00 - 9/29/03

Without thinking, Ellie grabs a match from the box on the hearth and lights it, touching the head to Sarah’s candle, then to Kevin’s before blowing it out and tossing the blackened remnant in the fireplace. She watches the twin flames flicker and burn like the candle on her birthday cake. It is a birthday, after all. They should be part of it, too.

Then, a shining reflection out of the corner of her eye. She turns toward it, watches as the polished glass of the picture frame reflects the dancing fire.

She’s been over every inch of this room; every weekly family dinner with the Millers ends with Maria and Tommy on the couch and Joel in the chair and Ellie browsing the bookshelves while they talk. She’s cataloged every memento and salvaged family photo because there are so few.

But she’s never seen this one before. She definitely would have remembered it.

It’s Joel–a young Joel, no gray in his hair, fewer wrinkles around his eyes, god she almost doesn’t recognize him he’s so fucking light . His hip is cocked, a grin so bright it’s blinding, one arm slung around a young girl’s shoulders. She’s making a goofy face, throwing a peace sign, braces flashing in the sun, soccer ball at her feet.

There’s no doubt who she’s looking at. The love in Joel’s expression gives it away.

Sarah.

She gets it now; the pain on his face, the hesitation. Sarah would have looked a lot like the little girl upstairs.

Joel’s familiar steps on the stairs, the warmth of him at her back.

“Oh.” It’s less a word and more a sharp, punched-out breath.

She hunches a little, looking up at him over her shoulder. “I’m sorry, I just…it was right there, I didn’t–“

“S’alright,” he murmurs, resting a hand on the nape of her neck in reassurance. “I just…wasn’t expectin’ it is all. You didn’t do nothin’ wrong.”

“That’s her, isn’t it?” she whispers.

He takes the photo from her hands, examining it. “Yeah. That’s…that’s Sarah. Soccer tournament in ‘02, think it was.”

“Where did it come from?”

“Tommy went back to Austin a couple years ago, I guess. Found it at the old house. Said there wasn’t much left, but this one was in a drawer or somethin’. Showed it to me when we got here, but I told him…told him to keep it. Couldn’t…didn’t think I could, uh…have her around,” he whispers thickly, brow furrowed.

A sad smile pulls at the corner of his mouth as he hands the picture back. “S’a good one, though. We can put it up at the house if you want. Think I’d…think I could be alright with that…now.”

He notices the candles on the mantle then. “You, uh…you light these?”

“Seemed like the thing to do.”

“Yeah,” he breathes. “It’s…that’s good.”

She shrugs, staring at the photo again, studying it like an archaeologist looking for meaning in the rubble.

“I’d never seen her before,” she says carefully, chewing at her lower lip. “She doesn’t look like you.”

“Yeah…got that a lot,” he chuckles. “Got her mama’s looks and my attitude. An’ let me tell you, arguin’ with a miniature version of yourself all day ain’t as fun as it sounds.”

She pictures a pocket-sized Joel with a chipmunk voice yelling up at her and almost cracks a smile.

“Was a lot like you that way,” he continues. “Too smart for her own damn good and no filter on that mouth.”

He nudges her, quietly letting her know he’s teasing.

“She was all mine, though,” he murmurs. “Through an’ through.”

Mine .

The word sends another pang of longing through her, so strong she shudders. He must pick up on it, because he squeezes her shoulder gently, shaking it a little.

“Hey. That goes for you, too.”

She doesn’t have a response for that. She’s been reduced to the weight of the frame in her hand, the lump in her throat, the comet in her chest, the stone in her stomach.

She goes easily when he puts an arm around her and pulls her into his side, warm and safe and slotted into place like a missing puzzle piece, a mirror image of the photo she holds in her hand.

[lokischocolatefountain]

Mercy

My entry for the Haunted Hoedown created by @inklore and @psychedelic-ink. Day 7- stranded au or slasher / summer camp au + sex in the woods or somewhere public (added bonus if it includes knife, blood, hunter x prey kink)

Fandom: The Last of Us (HBO)

Pairing: Joel Miller x Reader

Rating: 18+ (Major character death, stranded in the woods, post apocalyptic life, non con, mentions of previous experiences of non con, suicidal reader)

Summary: Stranded alone in the woods and left to die, all you can ask of Joel Miller is the mercy of a quick death. He is willing to give it to you, but he needs something for himself as well.

A/N: It’s another Joel Miller weekend here at lokischocolatefountain. I have a husband!Javi locked and loaded, ready to go. But Joel demand my attention once again for the haunted hoedown. So Javi has to wait another week.

You were safe.

Well, safe from the men who had captured you. But other dangers awaited. If you were lucky, it would just be starvation, an encounter with a wild animal or a fucking heart attack. But you didn’t think your good luck would stretch that far. You were already that the raiders who killed and raided the belongings of the men who captured you did not seem interested in you. It was a goddamn miracle.

Ropes bound your arms behind your back and your legs to each other. Either the ropes were tied too tight or you had become weaker over the past ten days of captivity. They didn’t have much food to spare you. Only the small pieces of rotting meat that they fed to you on the condition that you suck their cocks.

It wasn’t as though you had a choice when tied up the way you were. There were other women held captive with you- younger, prettier, less willing to comply and more appealing to the men as they liked a challenge. You were one of the older models, beaten ragged by life both before and after the world fell apart. For them, a woman was a woman. No matter how broken you were, there was always more to break. No matter your age or how fucking crazy you’d gone from survival, you had a pair of tits and three holes. For most men, it was more than they could dream of. For you, separated from your group and all alone, it was the only thing you could barter.

Now there was no need for any of it. You would decay on the ground along with the fallen leaves and the blood you’d spilled when the men cut through your clothes. The last of the women after another one decayed just a couple feet away from you. Yours was a fate better than the girls who were taken away by the raiders. Experience had taught you that. The last time you’d been in the hands of such a group, you were younger. They used you to their heart’s content and then sold you to a man for a good price- a whole goat, a bag of rice, a record player and a couple of vinyls, and a leather jacket. Pretty good stuff. If you had to valuate yourself now, you’d probably go for a small fraction of that- maybe just the leather jacket.

You would no longer go for the same price. You no longer had the strength to kill the man who purchased you like you were just a thing.

You swallowed, your throat aching for water. But all you got was the piercing pain of a hundred jagged pebbles scratching your throat. One of the factoids from an old encyclopedia popped up in your head: It takes x days for dehydration to cause death. Unfortunately, your brain hadn’t thought to pay more attention to the number, leaving you with no information.

What you knew was that it took one day of dehydration to wish for death.

Daylight withered away and darkness descended in the woods, matching the darkness of your thoughts. In the pitch black night with no stars or even a sliver of the moon, whether your eyes were open or closed did not matter. In the times before, it was advised for women to return home before nightfall. As though danger only lurked in darkness. As though men did not behave atrociously in broad daylight. Shaking on the ground from the cold, dehydrated, near death, your biggest fear was still man.

It was why the snapping of twigs and crunching of leaves under a heavy footfall struck more fear in you than the sight of the infected ever did. Man.

Measured. Careful. Not infected. Man.

He could just be passing by.

It could’ve been delusions inspired by dehydration and starvation, but the footsteps sounded just a little louder as the seconds passed. He was getting closer.

Joel Miller didn’t know, but your body already played to his beat, your heartbeats responding to the sound of his footsteps. Pills from Atlanta passed on to him from his contact rested in his backpack, the currency with the highest value in the QZ. His hand itched to take one pill for himself. Just one. The nightmares of losing his child flashed before his eyes even before he could succumb to the weariness of the journey and sleep. A pill would help.

Don’t get high on your own supply.

He needed to be at his best state of mind since he was traveling alone now, his companion having been taken out by a clicker on their journey. But God was it tempting.

Darkness enveloped the woods. The moon and stars had abandoned Earth for the night, afraid that if they shone their light on the land, they’d see its haunting wreckage. His eyes had adjusted to the darkness, but it still played tricks on him. For a second, he believed he might have seen a figure move on the ground.

Leaves rustled and crunched beneath his feet. His hands immediate grabbed the gun he had at the ready, the muzzle pointed to the ground. It hit something— someone, he realized when it gasped.

“Please,” your low, shaky voice begged. “Please shoot me.”

He would’ve thought he misheard. Who’d ask to be shot when threatened with a gun? But such was the world in which they’d lived. Death was sometimes more desirable than whatever horrors life had to offer. Joel had survived, somehow. Violence and the sheer human instinct for self preservation kept him around until now, even a decade and a half after the collapse of society.

He brought a lighter close to the ground and lit it, the little golden flame illuminating your bloodied and bruised. He noticed that your arms were bound behind your back and legs tied together at your ankles.

Joel understood you didn’t have long. A day maybe. Longer if you were fed and hydrated. He himself was not interested in charity. If someone else happened by you and you were able to convince them to toss you a piece of bread… But you didn’t want charity. You asked for his bullet, not sustenance.

Bullets didn’t grow on trees.

“Good news. You’ll be dead by daybreak.”

“Please,” you whimpered in a low gravelly voice, mustering up all your energy to beg for this small act of mercy.

You hadn’t asked for his precious rations or water. Only that he finish you off with the weapon he pointed at you. He dropped his belongings somewhere in the vicinity, not bothering to dignify your request with a response.

Joel lied down on the ground in the vicinity in a sleeping bag, his pack serving as a pillow. Sleep did not come easy. He merely rested his eyes, his sense attuned to his surroundings even when he was meant to rest.

When the sun rose, he rolled his sleeping bag and set it inside a hollow tree before heading to the pond nearby. He returned, having washed up, ready to resume his journey back to the QZ. Curious about you, he went to the site where you were last night.

“Please,” you begged once again. “Before you leave. Please.”

He nudged you with his boot, your weakening body rolling to the side and giving him a good view. One bullet. But what a waste of a good body. He could help you in return for something for himself. There was a brothel in the QZ, of course. The oldest profession carried on right under FEDRA’s nose. They pretended to not notice. Sometimes, they’d conduct a raid and arrest some women under the guise of maintaining the law. An excuse for the FEDRA guys to have the women for themselves for the night.

Joel did not indulge in such services. He didn’t see the point in spending precious ration cards just to get off. His spit and left hand were enough for him to get by. But you were free of cost.

“Since you asked so nicely…” he drawled, withdrawing his knife from its holster. He sliced through the ropes that bound your ankles together. You didn’t know his intentions though you’d come to expect it from men over the years. If he wanted to take advantage, he surely would’ve gone ahead with it last night. Sure, Joel hadn’t intended it at first. But now that you were available…

Reliable contraception had died with the world. Too risk averse in this specific matter, he’s contented himself with the rare blowjob. Pussy was a delicacy he hadn’t had in a while. You didn’t protest as he tore your pants off of you, finding skin beneath.

“Be good and I might just kill you in the end, darlin’…” he promised and you spread your legs, cooperating, being good so he would consider it. You didn’t know when the next person would pass by this place. Even if someone did before you could die a slow death, there was no assurance that they’d kill you rather than prolong your miserable existence.

“Wha’s your name?”

“Joel.”

Joel. Joel brought a damp cloth to your face, wiping the blood and dirt off you. It was…strange. It felt as though you were being taken care of. It wasn’t the case of course. But it felt good to believe he was taking care of you. It was the first bit of humanity you’d experienced in a very long time.

The blade slipped under your half torn t-shirt, cutting up the fabric that had done a poor job so far of giving you any dignity. His large hand roamed your now naked torso. Calluses caught on your somehow soft skin. The sensation was the first pleasant thing you’d felt in a long time. You attempted unconsciously to lean into his touch, but your weakness kept you glued to the ground. Even the cold blade of his knife felt good. You’d gone mad, surely. This was definitely a stage of delusion caused by your dehydration and starvation.

He cupped your cheek and leaned down, capturing your lips with his. It was as though you’d forgotten to kiss. The men who took interest in you were less concerned with making use of your lips for a kiss. If Joel had put his cock between them, you would’ve known better what to do. It seemed he’d also forgotten. He wasn’t kissing you. He bit and sucked and devoured.

Your hands were still tied behind you. They dug into your back. But it didn’t hurt as much as Joel’s hand supping your tits. Even the animals who last had you under their control were gentler than this. But you weren’t too offended. It hurt. But there would be sweet death at the end of all this pain. So you embraced it fully, letting out nothing but a little whimper as a sign that you were at all affected by his touch.

Even in your state of near death, you could tell that he was a handsome man. Grey interspersed black curls on his head. Patchy beard hid rugged, sun damaged skin. His aquiline nose would’ve inspired sinful thoughts in you had you been further away from death. In a normal world, he would’ve been getting a drink at a bar and you would’ve noticed him.

Joel spit on his hand and rubbed it around on your dry cunt. With his thumb and forefinger, he parted your cunt lips before inserting his middle finger. Inch by painful inch, he penetrated your unwilling body that was attached to a very willing mind. There was no water left to be spared to wetten your cunt for the man.

“C-cut me,” you suggested, desiring the penetration to be smoother. If this was the last time you got to be fucked, it wouldn’t hurt to hurt a little to enjoy the last few minutes on the mortal plane. “Bl-blood.”

He seemed to understand your weak implication. You hissed as the sharp edge of his knife cut through the top layers of your skin. Red blood oozed out and he swept his hand over it, collecting the blood and smearing it over your cunt. He slipped a finger inside you, lubricating your hole with your own blood.

He knelt over you, his knees on either side of your body. Then he unzipped his jeans, the teeth of the zipper making a scratching metal sound. He was a good length, girth and veiny. He stroked himself as he stared at your bloodied hole.

Fucking a dying woman using her own blood as lube. Of all the messed up things he had done, this was easily on the top ten. Not that he maintained an actual list. Despite her decrepit state, she looked welcoming with her legs spread out and eyes on his cock. He bent your legs at your knees, your body pliant in its weakness. You were a thing of rare beauty in his journey. Nature had reclaimed its place, growing between abandoned cars and splitting into giant overpasses. This, you, were another part of nature to him.

Woman, all beautiful in your vulnerability, laid out to be claimed.

He guided his cock between your legs and forced himself in. Red lube you’d given up for him to use on you coated his cock, reminding him of the violence of his desire. He twitched inside you as he pushed in, a perverse sort of excitement stimulating him.

He brought the knife up to your neck and rested the blunt edge against your throat. You gulped. Your eyes widened. Your breaths quickened. Your cunt clenched around his cock and Oh God how divine you felt this way.

You’d asked for death, practically begged for it. But fear was not something you could prevent. Your wretched mortal body was programmed with the foolishness of wanting to stay alive.

“Been so long,” he muttered when he bottomed out inside you. Though you’d had many men inside you, it’d been long since any stretched you out so good. You took a deep breath and wished you had your hands free. You were overcome by a sudden urge to touch him. To run you hands down his sturdy arms and solid chest. It’d been so long since you wished.

“Good?” You asked, squeezing his cock. He smiled and bent forward to kiss you. Your lips, your chin, along your jaw. It was tender. Too tender for sex in the woods with your clothes torn off and your thigh bleeding into the soil.

He began to move, pulling out just a little before pushing back in. He savored it. After all, this could be his last chance at a cunt for a very long time. He grabbed on to your tits to use as handles, making you squeeze around him. Your lips let out a painful little whine, but he didn’t feel guilty. What bad did a little more pain do? You were going to die anyway. If you weren’t making use of your tits and cunt, at least he could enjoy them.

“So good…” he praised and you responded in kind, thrusting back weakly. “Yeah? You like that, cunt?” He asked, using the crude word in place of your name. He didn’t even know your name. But Cunt was appropriate for the purpose you served. You nodded. “I really struck gold in the fucking woods of all places, huh.”

“Good cunt,” he praised, the words shooting straight into said body part.

“Feelin’ good?”

You nodded, unable to say much else under the assault of the sensations. You didn’t have to for he claimed your lips once again in a kiss. He was better this time and so were you. Your lips stayed connected with his just like your pussy with his cock, devouring each other in desperation for a taste of something good in all the wretchedness.

Joel’s cock drilled into you. Merciless, fast, painful. All you knew before was hunger and suffering. With him, it had all disappeared. It was just Joel now. He consumed you, turning you from a discarded body passed from one raider to the other to Good Cunt. You liked the sound of those words on his lips.

“Just like that, Cunt,” he hissed as you milked his cock, your thighs cramping as your muscles contracted. Something pulled somewhere and you screamed in pain and your cunt tightened for him. Warm cum spilled inside you, the sensation a distracting relief in the midst of the pain.

Tears slipped down the sides of your face, cooling your skin.

“Did well. Did so well, Cunt,” he praised as he tucked himself back inside. He hadn’t felt so good in forever. Such a relief. Such an unburdening of stress and anxiety over his smuggling and its chances of success. He zipped himself up and bent over to retrieve his weapons.

“How do you want to go?” He asked, weighing the gun in one hand and knife in another as he looked down at your debauched body.

You made your choice, thanked him for his mercy and closed your eyes.

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