#infideltiy | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

tieronecrush · 2 years ago

Note

I have a request but it’s also infideltiy so I understand if you ignore this lol.

I’ve been thinking lately about a scenario where reader and Joel have been separated since the outbreak for a few years, reader starts dating some guy in the QZ she’s at, joel shows up and they reunite. Joel really tries to stay away and respect her relationship but they’re both too emotional and horny to resist. I really do love passionate reuinion sex tho!!!!

thank you so much for your request lovely nonnie! i switched it up just a lil bit to make the reader the one who shows up with her bf to boston where joel already is - hope that’s okay!!

muscle memory

joel miller x f!reader

rating: E (18+ only, MDNI)

word count: 6.5k

summary: when you flee the baltimore QZ to head to boston with your boyfriend and others, the last person you expect to see is joel miller. you had mourned him for years, having thought your last partner was lost to you forever. when the two of you start smuggling together, more time around each other only seems to strengthen your connection - to the point where neither of you can manage the tension anymore.

warnings: NO USE OF Y/N, no age specified, use of pet names (‘bonny’, ‘little lamb’, ‘sugar’), infidelity, previous relationship, mentions of death/loss, some angsty angst, alcohol use, mentions of drug use, fingering, oral (f receiving), unprotected p in v, cockwarming, dirty talk, praise, mild breeding kink, possessive!joel, soft!dom joel

Boston is an upgrade from Baltimore. At least in the state you left it; the Baltimore QZ had finally succumbed to Firefly occupation and FEDRA was forced out. Not that it really mattered to you, but it was another reason to add to the list. The biggest reason for your caravan up north was that your smuggling lines and connections had dried up. Like, completely. Either people found better deals or died on their journeys outside of the walls of whatever QZ they were from. You mostly dealt with Washington and Philly, both having been radio silent for weeks by the time your smuggling group made the decision to move on. You were welcoming the change; sure, the means to get there was full of uncertainty and danger, but the group you were with and your boyfriend of a few months, Danny, made you feel the slightest bit more confident trekking through the decimated country.

It’s been a few weeks since you all officially transitioned into the Boston QZ, registered under FEDRA, and having gone through your quarantine. You all settled into your government-assigned homes, you living with Danny and others grouping up to attempt to make these shabby walls feel like home.

It was easy to be with Danny. You two had known each other for years, done tons of runs together, and developed a comfortable friendship. Your relationship was born out of convenience -- after hooking up one night when you both needed to be taken care of, you stayed together. It was nice to have companionship, but it certainly wasn’t love.

You haven’t felt that way since Joel.

Joel Miller. Your partner when the world went to shit.

The two of you were together for a couple of years, and you were planning to move in with him at the start of the new year - 2004. It was supposed to be your year. Moving in with the love of your life and his daughter that you loved as if she were your own, probably getting engaged or just eloping with him, maybe even talking about growing your little family.

You loved your life before. You mourned it for years after the outbreak happened, knowing you likely wouldn’t see any part of it again.

When Outbreak Day happened, you weren’t with Joel. You weren’t even in Austin. It was the week of your mom’s 60th birthday, and she had begged you to come up north for a visit. You were supposed to fly home on September 26th. You were supposed to surprise Joel for his own birthday.

And then your flight got canceled. Rebooked for the following day.

And everything changed.

But that was years ago, now it’s 2010. Family members were long gone, friends made along the way lost, too. You grieved as well as you could with the way the world moved now. Despite searching for any sign of Joel, or Sarah, or even his brother Tommy, you accepted your fate to be alone and settled in Baltimore.

And now, you were accepting the fate that your new home would be Boston. Seemed like a decent replacement in your mind, and hearing about the smuggling business here made you eager to get involved.

The small group that you traveled with had arranged a meeting with two of the more prolific runners in the city. You weren’t given any details besides a meeting place and time, so when that night came, you and Danny made your way into the dilapidated storage building along with your friends from Baltimore.

You glanced around at the place, attention turning to the small huffs of frustration coming from your boyfriend next to you. He was fiddling with the zipper on his jacket, the grooves stuck in the fabric. Nimble fingers worked it loose as you stood amongst everyone, Danny’s lips pressing to your hairline in a sweet thanks.

There is no way in whatever is holy, if there even is anything out there, that Joel is seeing who he thinks he’s seeing. They must be a figment of his imagination. It’s been seven years.

And then he hears that laugh. This stranger has a laugh that he would recognize anywhere.

That’s your laugh. That smile is yours, too. And when you turn towards him finally, his gaze fixed on you since you entered the room, he meets your eyes. Those eyes that made his heart sing whenever they shined with joy, made him shatter when they were filled with tears, made him completely head over heels for you.

And right now, they were making it all come rushing back. The heartbreak, the loss, the grief, the love.

A small gasp escapes your mouth when you recognize him. He was aging, that much he knew. Had some grays sprinkled into his brown hair, his beard was just as patchy as it had been before. He had harsher lines on his face, the world wearing him down much quicker than it would if the outbreak never happened — if he never knew what loss was like.

You’re taking inventory of all of his changes, and he notices similar ones in you. Your hair is longer, even pulled back he can tell it’s inches past where you normally would keep it. There’s the faintest wrinkles next to your eyes, soft smile lines near your lips. Signs that you stayed light in the world of darkness. That made the pain in his chest lessen just the smallest amount.

He keeps checking that you’re still there during the entire meeting. Tess does the talking, some grumbles of rules coming from him, but he’s thankful that she’s taken the lead ‘cause he doesn’t know if he could get more than a handful of words out at a time. With arms crossed over his chest, he pinches his bicep as he glances at you again, assuring himself that he isn’t dreaming or having a bad trip from those pills he takes.

The rest of the meeting goes by quickly, plans are made for the next few runs to integrate the newest additions. He stays back, hoping that you would do the same. There was no way that he wasn’t going to talk to you; he’d run after you if you left.

Luckily for him, you had understood the subliminal messages in the short bits of eye contact he made with you.

The guy that was with you stayed, too, but he stood near the exit while you stepped closer to Joel.

With you right in front of him, he gave himself another quick pinch before clearing his throat. Just when he was about to break the growing awkward tension in the stale air, he heard your voice crack.

“Hi.”

That’s all you say, and suddenly he can’t help the grin that quips up to the side. A hushed chuckle exhales through his mouth shortly, eyes locking with yours.

“Hey there, bonny.”

He watches your shoulders drop from their frigid position, uneasiness visibly relaxing after the greeting. He grins wider, dimple deepening in his cheek as his chest tightens from the gentle reaction he’s gotten out of you.

He still had the tiniest bit of his accent. Especially when he said that nickname. Short for bluebonnet, Texas’s wildflower, which is where the name originated from. Joel called you his wildflower, and when you asked him what kind of flower one night, he told you he only knew bluebonnets. Typical proud Texan man. Eventually, the moniker turned into ‘bonny’.

It’s a nickname you hadn’t heard since your last phone call with him, disappointment evident in his voice when you had to confess that your planned surprise wasn’t going to happen and that you would be home the next day to celebrate with him belatedly.

��‘S alright, bonny. Sarah’s already got something planned for the two of us. Promised her I’d pick up a cake on the way home from the site.”

Your stomach had toiled with anxiety that day from his sadness that you were going to be missing from his birthday and that he was just missing you. This time around, hearing that same nickname roused your nerves from the thrill that it zipped down your spine, the sound of his voice around the words tingling in your ears.

The two of you make introductions to your respective tag-alongs, Joel to Danny and you to Tess. Greetings were passed and conversation flowed, the two of you skating around your history with company present, only divulging necessary details. You two dated before. That was it. They didn’t need to know how long, how serious, how you mourned the loss of him and the life you two built together.

Ignoring the past in conversation was easy. Ignoring the physical pull you felt towards him was more of a challenge. Heat crawls up your back and settles on the nape of your neck, tongue poking out to wet your lips every few moments. Fingertips itch to touch his skin, to trace the lines on his palms, and to brush over the scar on the right side of his face. One he didn’t have with you, and you wanted to know what it was from.

You wanted to know a lot from him. What these last seven years looked like for him. Once the conversation died down naturally, you faced Joel and asked him gently the first of the two most pressing questions you wanted answered.

“Where’s Tommy? Guessin’ the two of you are still glued to each other like you were back then,” you tack on a light laugh to your query, feeling the rush of panic as you realize that these answers you were wanting might not be answers that you want to hear. A lump forms in your throat as you wait for his response, a tender look on your face.

“He’s, uh, he’s here still. Doesn’t run with us though, he’s been getting into shit with the Fireflies here. Drives me insane, but you know how he is.”

“Always a joiner,” the words roll off your tongue and you bite down on it, cursing yourself internally for making fun of his brother without really knowing how this Joel would respond.

Relief washes over you when he laughs, not a full one, but nevertheless, you got to see a sliver more of that smile that had you smitten.

“Got that right. Tommy always wants to be a hero,” he shakes his head back and forth, an adoring smirk on his face as his stare lengthens and his mind is taken to his younger brother for a moment.

With the news of Tommy, you were even more eager to ask your second question. It gripped your heart, tugging it nearly out of your chest. Your voice softened as you spoke to him, eyes involuntarily watering in anticipation.

“And Sarah?”

Silence. As if the words catch in his throat and start to choke him from the inside. His eyes widen in loss of oxygen, chest still as he holds his breath. He can’t look away from you, eyes quickly pacing to hold contact with yours. They communicate desperation, as if he wants so badly to explain, to tell you what happened to his daughter that you loved, but he can’t get the words out of his airway.

It tells you everything, that look. You hadn’t lost your ability to read Joel, and the realization completely demolishes the composure you were attempting to maintain. Closing the gap between you, you focus on Joel as you wrap your arms around his waist, tight and full of compassion. Your head rests on his chest, facing to the side. Everything else in the room falls away, muscle memory moving your hands in circles against his lower back in the way you remember he loved. He’s tense in your arms, his own wrapping around your shoulders hesitantly until he feels the comforting touch. Tautness breaks from him, resting more of his weight against you as his head dips down to rest his chin on you and his eyes close.

Yours close too, and just for that moment, you’re back in his kitchen, sticky summer morning air coating the room from the open screen door. Cartoons squeak from the TV in the other room, and the smell of Joel’s French toast wafts from it’s crisping on the stove.

Domestic bliss. What could’ve been.

That hug has tormented Joel for weeks. The first time he saw you, the first time he heard your voice, the first time he held you after he thought he never would again. And that one time has unearthed a hunger for more. A need for you. Doesn’t matter if he’s around you or not, he can’t stop thinking about you.

When you’re on runs with him, he has one eye on you at all times. When it’s a route without your boyfriend, he feels a bit bolder; touches linger on your back as he guides you through obstacles or around your arms as he holds you back to get ahead of you to clear a room.

He’s been trying, so desperately trying, to respect your relationship. Not that you mention him much, but you and Danny arrived in Boston, shacked up together, and have made no hints at that changing. For now.

It’s gotten to the point where it’s driven him to drink, added to the long list of things he needs to be inebriated or high to cope with.

This is how he ended up at the QZ speakeasy, a few blocks from his building which makes it an easy past-curfew destination. Sole occupant of the low, barrel table against the back wall, he pounds a whiskey back which quickly turns into three. A buzz has started in his body and his mind, a clear path to his ideal destination on the horizon. It was a shitty run today, mostly coming up dry and having to deny some trades. Plus, you weren’t with him.

When he’s waving the bartender for another glass, his eyes skate across the room and catch you standing at the top landing of the stairs that snake down to the warehouse basement bar, eagerness evident in your expression when you find him. Overprotective, he watches you bound down the stairs to make sure you get to whoever you’re meeting without any issues. He’d be more than happy to step in if someone got too close.

Focused on his self-appointed task, he doesn’t realize that you’re making your way over to him excitedly until you’re standing in front of his table, gesturing to the empty seat across from him that he offers to you.

Plopping down in the wooden chair, a goofy smile stretches across your face as the giddiness of being around him flickers in your stomach. You’d felt this jolt of energy being near him, thinking about him. It’d been like that for weeks since you saw him again and held him. It was a spark, and now your embers were slowly catching fire the more time you spent with Joel.

Greetings were exchanged, and him buying you a drink along with another for himself. Finger tracing around the lip of your glass, you glance up at him and attempt to make small talk if only to be able to hear his voice.

“So, how was the run today?”

“‘S fine. Pretty dry.” His response is clipped, mumbled out as he brings his drink up to his lips for a swig.

“Oh, really? That’s a shame. You got another one planned?” you keep your eyes on him, watching as he looks anywhere but at you. Around the table, across the room, even at his own boot.

“Yeah, got one next week.” Joel’s grumbling, deep crease between his brows as he sulks in his chair.

“Maybe I can join you on that one?” you propose, hoping that it gets his attention. Sure, you could be reading into it, but something told you that he enjoyed having you around as much as you enjoyed being around him. Brows raised in hopefully curiosity, anticipation swells your tongue in your mouth.

“Maybe.”

That’s it? That’s all he has to say?

Joel’s always been a man of few words, always crafting careful and thoughtful responses when you were together. But this? This is ridiculous. He clearly doesn’t want you around, his eyes darting as if to look for the fastest escape route. It stings, deflating your excitement. The chance of this encounter was the sole reason you went out tonight. Danny had fucked off to play poker or gamble away ration cards with some other guys he’d gotten buddy-buddy with, and it didn’t help that you two had been drifting further from each other over the last week. You weren’t sure how much longer this companionship would be worth it, and with Joel always around, it certainly was starting to blur some lines. He always made you feel better, even when he wasn’t trying. Except for tonight.

Your hurt boils into anger, and you scoff at him, arms crossing firmly in front of your chest.

“You keep acting like you’re looking for a chance to leave. If I’m keeping you here, feel free to go. I’ll drink by myself.”

Joel looks at you, his eyes softening. He opens his mouth, then shuts it, thinking about what he should say. You get annoyed by his lack of response, grabbing your drink off the table and slipping out of your chair to leave him there.

“Are you really that oblivious, bonny?”

You turn back, anger growing at the thought that he’s mocking you.

“Well, screw me for trying to make conversation with you, Joel. I guess I am oblivious ‘cause I thought we could be friends or, I don’t know, at least civil after all this time.”

“Bonny, I can’t be friends with you.”

He’s kicking you when you're down, clearly just being cruel.

“Why? What did I do?”

“I can’t be friends with you, ‘cause I want more than that.”

The honesty stuns you. Sure, you had felt that pull towards Joel again, but you didn’t know that he felt the same way or that he would act on it if he did. He gets up from his chair, taking a step closer to you before he continues.

“I looked for you, y’know? After everything. All I wanted was to have you back. I knew you’d know what I needed. And when I saw you again, I realized why I couldn’t stop looking. What I needed most was you.”

He stands close to you now, warm breaths intermingling with the other’s, humidity heating your cheeks while his eyes stay locked on you. Everything you’ve felt since Joel had been revived into your life suddenly becomes overwhelming; you can’t contain them, can’t compartmentalize them anymore. You reach for him, hand pressed over his heart, feeling the rushed beating pulsing under your touch.

His eyes look down slowly to his chest and then back up to you when you whisper, “Mine feels the same way when I see you.”

“Is that right? Can I feel for myself?”

You nod slowly, peeling your hand off of him only for him to catch it and hold it in his. Your voice is thick, “Maybe somewhere a little more private? Like your place?”

He looks confused for a second, brows knitting together before it dawns on him, pupils widening and darkening his eyes.

“Let’s get out of here, bonny.”

Keys jingle as he twists them in the lock, throwing the thin wooden door open after he pulls them out. He nods for you to step in ahead of him, taking a few paces into the apartment and surveying around. The door clicks behind you and the deadbolt slides into place, the sounds sending goosebumps across your skin at the prospect of being totally alone with Joel, no watchful eyes or possible interruptions.

Eyes continue to skate along the room, tiny details noted. Half-drunk whiskey bottle on the counter, small baggies of pills on the coffee table, other finds from his side occupation littering the space.

His weighted steps drag across the worn wooden floors at your back, the presence of him hanging behind you slowing your breaths in suspense. Saliva coats your mouth at the dryness of your thirst, hair standing off of your skin in waiting.

The first touch you feel is his fingers brushing against the back of your neck, sweeping the hair there off to one side and holding it there. Joel takes one step closer, chest pressing against your shoulder blades and crotch against the swell of your ass. The warmth radiating off of him sends a shiver down your spine, jolting against him briefly. Your breaths pause as you wait for his next move, eyes fluttering closed when his lips touch the nape of your neck in a ghostly kiss. A hand wraps around you, resting just over your breast to feel the rapid beating of your heart, the rhythm matching his own that you feel against your back. A placid gasp puffs from between your lips, snapping the taut tension between the two of you and sending a new urgency to his actions.

Palms encase your hips, spinning you around to face him and tugging you close to feel every curve pushed against him. His lips find yours in a hungry kiss, your own mouth opening in a sigh at the contact. Joel takes this as an opportunity to lick into your mouth, tongue dominating yours and swallowing every whimper that comes out of you.

Your own hands grip his shoulders, nails dragging against the fabric down to his biceps. Fingertips dig into the flexed muscles, steadying yourself as he starts to walk you backward throughout his place. He never leaves your lips, knowing the space with his eyes closed to lead you all the way back through the door to the small bedroom on the left side of the living space.

A whine escapes you when his mouth detaches from yours, working kisses along your jaw to the hollow under your ear, sucking at the space there. A groan rumbles from his chest when you let out a soft moan and hold his arms tighter, hips involuntarily jerking against his growing bulge.

Lust-blown eyes stare into yours as he stands up fully again, delicate touch brushing your cheek before his thumb nudges the scar that sits on your brow. The look in his eyes pains for half a second, and you finally speak up since leaving the speakeasy.

“‘S not a good story. Happened from a lamp falling onto my head when I was raiding around some suburban house. Just an accident. You wouldn’t have been able to stop it from being there.”

His gaze meets yours again, tugged away from the fibrous tissue on your face. The bulb in his throat bobs when he swallows, head moving side to side minutely.

His hand caresses your cheek, voice thick with his drawl when he softly responds, “You underestimate me, bonny.”

The words gloss your vision, quick blinks settling the emotion and clearing the picture of Joel in front of you again. Your heart constricts in your chest, attempting to imagine the amount of pain that he’s been through, but you can’t even begin to know.

Instead of dwelling on the moment, he presses one light, affectionate kiss to your lips before he takes a step back. He grips the hem of your shirt, brows quirking up in a silent question. You nod subtly, the permission allowing him to slowly tug the fabric over your head. He devours the newly exposed skin with his burning stare, compelled to bend down and trace his lips over every new mark he sees while his hands move across your curves to reacquaint himself with your new features. Wider hips, rougher skin, purply stretch marks veining your skin along with ropy paths where injuries had healed over.

Joints crack softly as he settles onto his knees in front of you, sending you into light giggles while he groans and presses his forehead against your lower tummy. He reaches around and playfully smacks your jean-covered ass, a fake scowl on his face when he looks up at you from his praying position.

“‘Nuff gigglin’ at me, you’re gonna feel this sore come morning.”

The threat of his words floods arousal between your thighs, bottom lip toyed between your teeth as you quiet down your laughter. Joel kisses your clothed thigh, fingers popping the button of your jeans and dragging the zipper before they hook in your waistband and tug the denim down your legs. Joel laughs lightly at your silence, eyes finding yours as his hands lift each of your feet one at a time to help you out of your pants.

“Thought that might get you excited, lil’ lamb. I know you’re gonna be such a good girl for me, aren’t ya?”

The wink that follows his drawl jolts your limbs and fingers twist into his locks as his open mouth exhales warm, humid air on your panty-covered mound. He presses his face against the fabric, inhaling deeply and moaning softly at the scent of you.

“Fuck, sugar, it’s still the same. Missed you so much. You think you still taste the same?” He directs the question up to your face, your head lulled down to meet his gaze. A smirk pulls at the corners of your mouth, mischief glittering in your eyes.

“Only one way to find out, baby.”

His amber eyes were pools of ink with how much they darkened, full of carnality. Large fingers smoothly strip you out of your panties, his figure coming to stand at his full height in front of you. Gripping your waist, he guides you back to sit on the edge of the mattress, lifting your legs by your thighs and easily maneuvering you toward the center.

Joel moves to climb onto the bed with you, but your soft sigh of frustration stops him.

“I wanna see you. ‘Specially if I’m completely naked, ‘s only fair that you are, too,” you gripe to him, bottom lip protruding only slightly in a pout. Joel considers for a moment, ultimately deciding that fair’s fair. He pulls his knee off of the mattress and makes quick work of undressing, his own clothes laying rumbled on the floor with yours.

Satisfied with his fulfillment of your request, your eyes completely devour his bare body as he moves to kneel on the mattress between your open legs. Fighting for survival has kept him fit, broad shoulders flexing as he lifts your legs at the crook of your knees to spread them further. His chest is firm, the rest of his torso softer just as it had always been. It was one of your favorite parts of him, the sight of it now taking you back to times cuddling him on the couch or in bed, head in his lap to press kisses against his tummy or resting your head there and being lulled to sleep. Your fingernails comb through the happy trail, pressing into the skin of his lower abdomen as you sit up to kiss him deeply. He moans quietly against your lips, your knees pressing into his stocky thighs, toes curling against the flexed muscles in his calves. Your arms settle around his neck, lips chasing his as he pulls back to look at you.

“I really did miss you, bonny. Couldn’t believe it when you were in front of me again. Still can’t really believe it right now.” His voice is breathy, eyes holding yours, moving back and forth minutely. One of his hands encompasses the left side of your face, the other moving down between your bodies, his frame bent over yours. Two fingers work circles into your clit, inhale catching in your throat while your legs tense from the feeling of his touch on you.

“M-Missed you, too. So much. I looked for you everywhere I went. Needed you again, I need you now.”

“‘M right here, lil’ lamb. Not going anywhere again. I’m gonna make you feel so good, just like I used to.”

His fingers working your clit slip through your wetness, pressing against your entrance to coax a moan out of you. He hooks them into you, pushed against your spongy walls in search for that spot he’d been all too familiar with. Like riding a bike, he fell right back into what you had loved from him before, knowing just how to work you up. His jaw dropped slightly as his eyes glued to where his fingers thrusted into you; he closed his mouth every so often to swallow the saliva flooding his mouth until he couldn’t wait another second to taste you again.

Joel folded over, legs scooting back on the bed to allow his head to sit between your thighs, tongue lapping against your clit feverishly and switching with his lips every so often to suck at the same spot.

The sounds leaving you at that point were wanton and lewd, mixing with the squelch of your wetness. You felt the familiar knot tightening in your stomach until it’s pulled loose, a loud gasp of his name while your nails dig into his shoulder and walls tighten around him.

He keeps his pace, mouth still attached to your core. He’s not going to let up without you saying something, and you can’t take another moment without him giving you what you want — what you need from him. Fingers tangled in his mussed hair, peeling him from between your thighs. He meets your eyes, lips and chin shining with dampness in the low light of the bedroom and fingers pulling out of you. Eyes blown into blackness at the sight of your pleasure, mouth opening to speak when you cut him off.

“More of that later, if you really want it. But I need you. Inside of me.”

Joel smirks devilishly, fingers coated in your come pushing between your lips and into your mouth for you to clean off.

“Just tastes so sweet, bonny. Can’t help but want seconds,” his hard cock twitches where it lays against your thigh at the feeling of your tongue sucking his fingers, “Better ask again nicely, lamb. Or else I’m not giving you anything.”

The smirk stays painted on his face, a huff of frustration as your hips jerk up to chase his hand that hover over you, desperate for more.

“Please, pretty please. I need you,” you beg, pleading in your eyes as you look through your lashes, dull nails scratching his skin.

“That’s my good girl. Kept your manners.” The wink he sends you flutters your walls around nothing, whimpering as he manipulates you into his desired position.

Joel straddles one of your thighs, bringing the other up to lay against his torso and rest on his shoulder. Your hips turn only slightly to the side in the position, opening your pelvis into a kindling heat. He spits in one of his palms, fingers of the same hand running shortly through your arousal and then mixing the fluids to coat the tender skin of his length. The head of him pushes into you deliciously measured, his motion pausing for you to adjust.

It only takes a moment before your body remembers, the muscles of your tight pussy molding around him once again. Your body feels the familiarity of him, the reactions it has are heightened from the comfort of his own body, focusing solely on how perfectly he fits inside of you.

“Damn, sugar, feel like your little pussy got even tighter. Feels so pefect around me, like she knows who’s about to fuck her just right,” his voice is coated with lust, jaw laxing with a guttural groan when he pushes further into you.

When Joel finally starts a rhythm, slow and deep at first, your eyes roll back into your skull as your head presses hard into the mattress under you. The position brings him incredibly deep, and his size fills you nearly to the brim. It was a feeling you hadn’t felt since the last time you’d had him, his veins on his swollen cock carving the same paths along your insides to feel every detail of him.

“Feel so full, baby. Haven’t felt it since I had you last,” your voice is higher and breathier, toned in a whine.

“That’s right, bonny. Nobody makes you feel as good as I do, huh? Probably haven’t had a decent fuck for years, you poor thing.”

All you can do in response is moan, hands gripping his forearms that are the part of his nearest to you.

He fucks you like this for a good moment, moaning your name quietly before he huffs in frustration, completely pulling out of you. Immediately, you mewl at the loss, head shooting up to protest before he’s moving you to his will again.

“Just a second, sugar. Need to be able to kiss you and feel you all over. Being such a good girl for me, I promise you’re gonna love this.”

He still couldn’t be as deep and close to you as he needed to be in the previous position, so he manipulates your jellied limbs easily to be able to fully cover you with his body. His grip is on your knees, bending your one leg that was once between his thighs to move your calf to hook over his shoulder. Once both your legs are settled on his frame, he continues to stretch your hips by leaning over you, pinning your thighs back to your ribs. He’s completely opened your lower half, folding you back to the point where his tummy is resting against yours and his face is hovering over you. Muscles in your legs and hip flexors burn and spasm, but you can’t care for even a moment when Joel thrusts into you again. You’d never been in this position with him before, and your mind instantly clears of any thoughts besides how hard and deep Joel is fucking you, how you had never felt as full and complete as you did in that moment.

He chuckles as he watches you completely cock drunk, one hand leaving your leg. The large palm finds your lower abdomen, pressing against it as he locks his gaze in yours.

“Can you feel me right here, lil’ lamb? Feel me deep, pushing your belly?” His voice is sweetened sickeningly, the pride and amusement of being the one to give you this experience, to make you feel that full once again evident in the twinkle of his eyes and the sideways smirk on his face.

Chants of his name leave your mouth, your voice barely covering the sounds of his skin slapping against yours steadily.

With him inside of you, it was like two puzzle pieces joining together to finish the picture. The satisfaction of completion was there on all fronts, his rhythm frying your nerves and tightening that red hot coil in your core. With his body covering yours in this embrace, he keeps his mouth on you, heady kisses to your lips when you can take it and mouth biting or licking along your chin, jaw, and neck when you need to breathe.

His motions switch up in the next instant, pushed into you at the hilt as his hips circle to grind you on him. He makes tight figure eights, the act getting you to the point where he’s fucked you completely dumb. All you want in that moment is to feel his warm spend inside of you, watch his face contort from his own pleasure. You can tell he’s close the less he speaks and the more he pants, head falling to your shoulder and eyes closing as he focuses hard to keep pace.

“Come inside me, please. I want it,” your tone is urgent, spilling the words out before your orgasm blinds you white-hot, mind clear of everything except for the euphoric high Joel’s given you. Tightening around him, he moans loudly, thrusts becoming messy and stacatto as he chases his own peak.

“God, such a perfect girl for me. You gonna keep my come in you all night? Go back to your boyfriend tomorrow with it dripping out?”

All you can do is nod, cunt fluttering around him as it starts to work into overstimulation, the rub of his skin against your clit so pleasurable it’s getting painful. Your voice falters when a third orgasm pulses through you.

“Y-Yes, yes. I want you inside for as long as it’ll stay there. Pl-Please, baby.”

Your begging pushes Joel over the edge, hips stuttering as ropes of his warm spend fill you up. He starts to work into you again, fucking it deeper before he finishes.

The pair of you are sweaty, sticky messes; hair tangled, lips swollen, eyelids heavy in recovery. Joel stays inside of you, gently moving your legs down and his own arms wrapping under you to lay you on your side with him, lifting one of your legs to rest on his hip.

Soft, supple kisses are shared as the two of you drift in and out of consciousness, eventually falling asleep completely.

Blue tinted sunlight creeps into the sole window of Joel’s bedroom, the night sky fading into a lilac dawn. You’re studying Joel as he sleeps, long lashes grazing his cheeks, lips parted just enough to let some light snores escape. Your finger delicately traces the scar on his right temple, your featherlight touch causing his eyes to flutter open and find your gaze half awake.

Joel’s immediately in fight or flight mode, arm around your waist tightening as he holds you closer.

“You okay? Something happen?” His voice is hoarse from sleep, clearing his throat as the slight panic wakes his up more.

Gently, you rest your hand on his chest and shake your head with a tender smile.

“Everything’s fine, you can relax. I was just lookin’ at you before I have to go home.”

Joel deflates, brow creasing at the mention of you needing to leave, to go home to your equally shitty apartment and some guy that wasn’t him. Jealousy flicked in his chest, a confession sitting in his throat for a minute before he let it out.

“I really did mean it, y’know. I need you. Now that I’ve got you back in my life, I can’t let you go. You’re some of the only family I’ve got left, and I don’t think I could survive losing you again.” His voice is shaky, wet brown eyes locked with yours. You have rarely seen Joel this unguarded, even in your life before, without the hardness that had come with the constant threat to his survival hanging over his head. The words wrapped around your heart, squeezing tightly and ripping it out of your chest to give to him. Silence falls between the two of you as an understanding washes over you, relaxing your body as the memory of safety, comfort, and home ripples throughout every muscle. You tell him what you have felt since the moment you saw him again:

“I’m not going anywhere, Joel. Not without you.”

tagging the mutuals: @swiftispunk @joelsversion @johnwatsn @midnightswithdearkatytspb @pedrit0-pascalit0 @theelishad @undrthelights @ladamedusoif @ruinedbylanadelrey @thetriumphantpanda @pedgeitopascal @dinsdjrn @thepascalofus @pedgito @soaringcloud @somedayauthor @alloftheimagines @pr0ximamidnight @beskarandblasters @atinylittlepain @nicolethered @scrambledslut @lunapascal

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