#joel the last of us

[aurorawritestoescape]

GIVE ME HELL

Stepdad Joel Miller x f!reader || 1,9 k

part 4 of A Step Into Hell || can be read alone

Summary: you come home drunk and Joel isn’t happy. He decides to teach you a lesson.

Tw: 18+ mdni, smut, step-cest, Joel's POV, dub con (alcohol intoxication) but reader's very into it, big legal age gap, dark!Joel, mean!Joel, possessive!joel, jealous!Joel, pussy/cock pronouns, fingering, unprotected piv, creampie, degradation, slut shaming, a lil bit of praise kink, daddy kink, spanking (1), cum eating, mention of alcohol consumption, mention of unplanned pregnancy, swearing. The pics are for the mood only. Reader has no specific physical descriptions but wears a skirt.

A/n: huge thank you to 🎯 anon for the hottest thots😘 I used the schoolgirl skirt idea in this story, it suited the plot perfectly! Kisses to @milla-frenchy for beta-ing and for loving the mf💋I hope you all will enjoy this part! Love you!💞

Dividers by @/saradika-graphics

SERIES MASTERLIST || MASTERLIST

Here you were. Miss ‘I need daddy’s cock to sleep’ came back from a party, looking like a whore. Who was surprised? Not Joel. A tight top was showcasing your gorgeous tits perfectly, a schoolgirl skirt was so short it was barely covering your ass. But what grabbed Joel’s attention immediately was your slightly smudged make up and your glossy eyes. Even in the dim light of the tv illuminating the dark living room Joel could see that you were drunk.

Probably trying not to sway, you purposefully leaned against the doorframe to say hi to your mother, your voice slightly higher than usual.

Joel wasn’t fooled by your act. A mix of rage and arousal set his body and mind on fire.

Drunk slut! Probably dragged your ass home after being groped and rubbed against all night. What if some horny frat boy fucked you?

Joel’s blood started boiling and your mother’s nonchalant attitude to the sight of you made him clench his fists even harder.

You needed to be punished. What wouldn’t he give to bend the whore over his lap and spank your juicy ass and slutty pussy. Fuck! His wife was next to him on the couch.

“How was the party?” she asked you with a smile.

“ ‘s ok. Going to bed. Good night.”

And you turned around and went upstairs. No! Not gonna happen. You weren’t getting out of it so easily.

Joel turned to his wife with his brows furrowed, having put a mask of virtuous concern on his face and hiding his semi with a throw blanket.

“Aren’t you gonna talk to her?”

”What about?”

“Her state? You ok with it?”

Your mother gave him a shrug.

“Yeah, she’s a little drunk but .. she’s been at a party. And she’s old enough to decide for herself whether to drink or not.”

Joel clenched his jaws but then took a deep breath, calming his nerves, and returned his eyes to the tv. Then he mumbled matter-of-factly, feigning his interest in the show,

“Hope ya ready to become a grandma then.”

He saw his wife fidget on the couch. Yeah, now someone was concerned!

“Why? What do you mean?”

“I mean that if you let her behave like that, then wait for her to get knocked up by some blogger or any other unemployed fucker. No college, no career. Doubt your ex’s gonna be happy that she ruined her future right under your nose.”

Joel glanced at his wife and shrugged like she’d done earlier. The naive bitch looked really worried.

Daddy Joel to the rescue!

“Honey, don’t panic. I’ll handle it. Let me talk to her. As a father figure.”

“Really? You’ll do that?” his wife asked with hope in her voice. Joel took her hand and looked into her eyes.

“Of course. I care about her. Very much.”

He wasn’t lying. You were his perfect fucktoy and he took care of the things that belonged to him.

“Don’t be too harsh on her,” his wife said as Joel got up and quickly adjusted his perked up cock.

“I’ll be gentle, don’t worry.”

Of course that was a lie. When Joel came up to your bedroom, he unceremoniously stormed in and locked the door behind him.

You were standing at your desk, smiling at your phone, probably sending out 1000000 slutty selfies from the party all over the internet.

“Hey! You can’t just barge in like that?” you exclaimed, pouting your pretty lips.

Joel placed his hands on his hips and grumbled with a glare,

“Wrong! It’s my house and I can do whatever the fuck I want. You on the other hand —,” he pointed his thick index finger in your direction and barked, ”— can’t!”

“What?” You seemed confused and tired but all Joel cared about at that moment were his heavy balls and stiffening cock, locked and loaded to ruin his stepdaughter’s hole.

” ’m here to have a talk with you.”

You giggled, “What talk? The birds and the bees?”

“Somethin like that,” Joel grunted, taking a step to you, and then pushed you to your desk.

“Joel!” you half whispered, half exclaimed, trying to stop him with your little palms on his chest, but Hurricane Joel couldn’t be stopped. He roughly grabbed your hips and made you sit on the edge of the desk.

“No… Mom’s downstairs…,” you mumbled softly, already melting when he settled between your spread thighs.

”Then be quiet. You can cry a lil. She’ll think you’re really sorry,” Joel sneered, looking down at you. His chest swelled with pride and dominance - he was big and strong and you were just a silly girl, who foolishly thought that she could do whatever she wanted. Hell no!

“Ya think you can come to my house drunk? Lookin like a whore who’s been passed around?”

You averted your eyes in shame, murmuring,

“Mm.. no. Jus’ had a few beers.”

“Did ya have a few cocks too?”

You shook your head before Joel grabbed your chin with two fingers and tilted your face up to look into your dopey eyes.

”You let anyone use you? Which hole? Bet your sexy schoolgirl skirt is soaked with cum.”

“No-no, daddy, I didn’t…”

He slowly glided his palms down over the fabric covering your hips and then pulled your skirt up, exposing your bare cunt.

A deep growl rose from Joel’s chest before he gruffed, his voice ringing with rage,

“Ya went to the fucking party with your cunt out in the open like that? Ready to serve any cock close enough to her?”

Joel's nostrils were flaring, his fists were clenching your skirt, as he was glaring down at you. He must have looked really scary because you widened your eyes and grabbed his thick forearms.

“Oh no-no-no, Joel! I took ’em off just before stepping inside. Like you told me, remember? No panties in the house.”

His dark eyes were darting between yours, searching for any sign of deceit.

“Hope you ain’t lyin to me,” he grunted, burning you with his fiery gaze.

“I swear, daddy.”

That ‘daddy’ really helped your case. Joel got more horny than mad and looked down at your pussy. Without a word he pushed a finger into your hole and you gasped.

“Did ya wet yourself? Or just that needy?” he asked, keeping the finger inside your sopping cunt. ”Who’s all this slick for? Someone at the party caught your eye?”

“No, I… I kept thinking about you, daddy.”

Joel smirked, “Yeah? What were you thinkin?”

“You… you doing things to me.”

“Hnggg,” Joel pulled his finger out of your hole and licked his skin clean with a lopsided grin on his glistening lips.

“You got horny-drunk, yeah, babydoll? Could’ve called daddy. I woulda come down there, dragged you to the bathroom and pumped ya little cunt full.”

“Really?” you asked with a drunk smile, your heart eyes set on Joel’s face.

“Course not, dumb slut. I ain’t drivin god knows where on a Friday night to fuck you. Especially when I know that the pussy is gonna come to me.”

You scrunched your nose and pouted.

“You’re so mean.”

“Ouch, you hurt my feelings!” Joel barked a laugh and roughly grabbed your pussy, making you moan. Then he leaned down to your face, so close your lips were almost touching, and you reached up to him, initiating a kiss, but Joel pulled away and instead squeezed your cheeks with his hand.

“I ain’t kissin your beer hole. And here’s the talk I promised you.”

You pushed his hand away and glared up at him. Your stepdad grabbed the back of your neck with one hand, your pussy with the other and continued,

”Ya got drunk. And drunk girls are always in danger of bein used. I reckon you better learn this lesson at home than at a party full of strangers, uh, sweetie?”

He shook his hand full of your cunt and you whimpered a needy “yeah”.

Then Joel pulled you off the desk and roughly spun you around. You squeaked but didn’t protest. Manhandling you was always easy, like dealing with a rag doll, especially now when you were drunk.

“We don’t have much time so let’s start,” he spit and pushed you down on the desk. In a second your hands were clasped by his hand behind your back, his huge cock bulge pressed to your naked ass, your holes ready for him to use.

“Daddy, fuck me,” you whined needily, wiggling your naked ass, brushing it against his hard-on.

Joel titled his head and grinned. The bitch was really desperate. You’d always been a slut for his dick but the alcohol seemed to have made you extra horny.

“You don’t deserve my cock today, slut, but all this slick can't go to waste”.

Joel let go of your wrists, tugged his sweatpants down and freed his leaking stallion. Then he roughly stabbed you with his length and shoved it to the hilt in one go. You took him easily, your pussy dripping with need for his giant schlong, and moaned into your palm, already fluttering around him. Suddenly, Joel froze.

“Wanna come on daddy’s cock?”

“Yeahhhh.”

“Yeah? Then work for it, baby,” he ordered through gritted teeth, keeping himself from bursting inside you — your cunt felt fucking fantastic as always.

“Daddyyyy…”

Your whine only made Joel laugh. He slapped your asscheek, and growled,

“Move! If your pussy wants the fireworks, ya better ride my horse cock. I ain’t doin shit for you tonight.”

He stood still with his hands holding your hips, his throbbing cock deep to the base inside you, while watching you squirm and almost cry with frustration. You begged him again but Joel didn’t move an inch while all his inches were being soaked by your crying pussy.

Probably having realized that he was serious, clumsily and slowly, on trembling legs, you started moving your body back and forth, exposing Joel’s shaft to his eyes and then swallowing it back with the greedy mouth of your cunt.

“Yeah, sweetie. You doin it, look at ya. Take what you need. Milk him dry, babydoll.”

Joel’s praise seemed to entice you, to inject some energy into your body, and you started fucking yourself with his cock faster and harder. Slapping noises filled the room as your ass was banging against Joel rougher and rougher. Your stepdad dug his fingers into your soft hips, watching you pleasure yourself with his hard cock.

“She’s so thirsty— wants to get drunk on daddy’s hot sperm, uh? — ’ll make her swallow it all to the drop.”

Panting heavily, Joel sounded intoxicated himself while talking about your wet cunt, seeing her rhythmically sucking in his fat length and spitting it out.

“Yeah, daddy. Please.”

“Good girl—,” Joel croaked and began emptying his balls inside you, pouring all his rage and jealousy into your pulsating cunt.

You came right after, almost crying on his exploding cock, pushing your face into your palms to muffle your ecstatic moans.

When Joel filled you full of his cum, he pulled out and stood over you splayed on the desk like a used fuckdoll. He was catching his breath, watching your winking hole drip his creamy jizz, then wiped his cock with your skirt and helped you up.

”If I see you drunk again in my house, I won’t let you come for a month, ya hear me?” Joel roared and you hastily nodded. Then his lips curved into a satisfied smile.

“I’m glad we had this talk.”

He looked you up and down again, shook his head and left the room.

Thank you for reading! Please comment and reblog if you enjoyed the fic!<3

SERIES MASTERLIST || MASTERLIST

Tag list: @milla-frenchy @harriedandharassed @iamasaddie @nervousmumbling @bbyanarchist @stevie75 @puduvallee @auteurdelabre @mountainsandmayhem @senoratess @flamingochick55 @theoraekenslover @schnarfer @mermaidgirl30 @staywildflowahchild @yesjazzywazzylove-blog @evolnoomym @keylimebeag @joelmillerisapunk @pascaltesaye @fruityreads @itwasntimethatdidit40

People who were interested in pt 4, no pressure to read bbs: @sunshineispunk @bonezone44 @mrs-hardy-hunnam-butler-pascal @tateypots

[mountainsandmayhem]

BDSMaid - Epilogue

AN: You can blame Mexico and Onyx Storm for my delay on this one. But for those who are curious, here is our sweet little epilogue for Joel and Freckles. Thank you so much to everyone who read, commented, shared, and encouraged me while writing this story. I love you, and so does Joel and Freckles. XO

Series Masterlist | My Masterlist

Five Years Later

“You wanna come,” he practically taunts, “Don’t you, sweet girl?” 

Every muscle in your body is weak, causing the leather cuffs of the St. Andrews Cross to rub at your wrists and ankles. He’s been teasing you for hours, stopping every time you’re about to shatter. 

This night has been a long while in the making. After five years with your firm you were finally given the lead on a big case; a case that your boss handed to you and said this was your chance to earn your partnership. You spent upwards of eighty to ninety hours a week preparing and Joel could not have been more perfect during that time. He’d often show up with food or coffee for you and your team of junior lawyers, interns, and paralegals. He never complained when you’d bring work home; however, every time you said something negative about yourself, Joel would mark it on the fridge. Over the three and a half weeks of prep work thirty ticks ended up on the small piece of paper that was hung with a Berkeley magnet. You didn’t have time to ask Joel what they meant, and truthfully, you didn’t really care; you trusted that whatever he planned to do with those ticks was for your own good. 

During the trial, another twelve ticks were added. When the verdict was announced and you had won your case, Joel was there in the courtroom, smiling warmly at you when you glanced back at him. When you got home that evening, after a celebratory round or two of cocktails, Joel made you kneel in front of him as he explained that each tick, all forty two of them, symbolized a denied orgasm, a punishment meant to remind you not to talk bad about things that Joel owns. Especially brilliant lawyers who win their first big case and secure themselves as partner.  

As he strapped you to the padded X shaped piece of furniture tonight, he said, ‘if you’re the sweet girl I know you to be, then you won’t whine when I stop. Instead, you’ll say “Thank you, Mister Miller” and I’ll count that as two. Forty two orgasms being denied is not going to be easy, so do yourself a favour and don’t whine; you don’t want to know what happens if you do.’

The only response to his teasing that you can muster now is a whimper and a nod. He clicks his tongue in disappointment. “Use your words, honey.”

Your voice is almost silent. “Yes, Mister Miller.”

He walks behind you, trailing the small vibrator along your skin. “Such a good girl for me tonight. Saying yes to everything. Remind me, how many orgasms have I denied you so far?”

Your pussy throbs with the deep timber of his voice, this is truly torture and your safeword is on the tip of your tongue. “Twenty one,” you mumble.

“Poor, sweet girl,” He says from behind you, leaning in closely to whisper in your ear. “Did you learn your lesson?”

“Yes, Mister Miller.” You swallow the dry lump in your throat.

“Should I let you pick how you want to come?”

He completes his circle around you and the crossing, stepping in close to you. He uses the little vibrator to gently tease your nipples. You can barely form a thought and just let a small ‘yes’ mixed with moans leave your lips as your sweat covered back arches off the padded back of the cross. The heat of Joel’s body this close makes you feel like you’re on fire. 

“Want to come on my fingers?” He asks, then easily slips three of them inside of you. Your gaze shoots to his as a strangled cry fills the room. 

“Yesyes - fuuuuck, please.” You feel your pussy tightening around his digits.

“What about my cock? You love being stuffed full of my thick cock while I strum your clit. Don’t you? My perfect little slut.” He teases you further by pumping his fingers forward once, revelling in the feel of you clenching tighter around him. He doesn’t give you a chance to respond as he continues.

“No, I know,” his fingers slip out from your pussy and you gasp, unable to protest in your weakened state. Not that you would protest; you know better than to do that, and he told you not to whine tonight. You are a good girl, you know that what your dom says is best. Plus, you need to come so badly that you think you might actually die if you don’t, and Joel is just sadistic enough to keep you like this for days. 

He gets onto his knees, his warm breath hitting your cunt as he speaks. “What if I put my lips around this swollen little clit? Huh? Suck her into my mouth and drink up every ounce of your cum?”

He uses his thumbs to pull the lips of your pussy further apart. He’s so close that your breath catches in your throat at the promise of relief. He blows cool air along your soaked pussy; you clench your molars together and focus on your breathing. You don’t come until he tells you. 

“Would you like that, my sweet girl?”

The restraints cut at your wrists when you try to push your hips to his mouth. “Yes. Yes. Please, Mister Miller.”

He stands abruptly, hand wrapping around the hair at the nape of your neck before he tugs to bring your gaze up to his. The pull of your hair relaxes the muscles of your neck and upper back and you melt into the padded cross.

His eyes darken as he asks, “You really would say yes to anything, wouldn’t you?” 

“Y-yes. I just need to come. Please.” He releases your hair, stepping back and crossing his arms. The veins on his forearms pop, the sleeves of his rolled black dress shirt tightening under his biceps. Since officially retiring, he’s had a strict exercise regime. He was sexy when you met him almost ten years ago, but like a fine wine, he gets better with each passing year.

The gravel in his voice returns, “But you’d say yes even if I told you we were done for the night and it was time to get dressed. Right?” 

Your eyes clench close, head falling back as the panic of not getting to come tonight races through your mind. You take a calming breath before whispering, “Yes, Mister Miller.” 

“Eyes on me, sweet girl.” You peel your eyes open and tilt your chin down to look at him. His hands are now buried in his pockets, and there’s a shift in how he’s looking at you, a slight softness to his dark eyes. 

“And what if I asked you to marry me?” His voice is shy and raspy.

He slowly pulls a ring out of his pocket and holds it up for you. A thin, gold band with a single, albeit very large, solitaire diamond on it sends sparkles all around the room. Tears line your lash line, mirroring his. He clears his throat softly.

“Here’s what we’re going to do, sweet girl. Listen carefully for me,” he pockets the ring and steps closely, wiping the happy tear that rolls down your cheek. The rough whorls on his thumb send goosebumps cascading down your body. “First, I’m going to make you come. Then, I’m going to untie you, get you all cleaned up, and get some sugar into you.”

You nod, leaning into his touch as cups your face. His eyes dart towards the bed as he says, “After that, we are getting to that bed so I can kiss you until neither of us can breathe.”

“And then,” he smiles sweetly, a tear rolling from the corner of his deep brown and honey flecked eye to his greying beard. “And then I’m going to ask you to marry me.”

[pascalispimp]

Damp, Dirty, His

Summary: Joel’s been through a lot, but mysteriously damp flannels? That’s a new one. When he sneaks home to investigate, but what he finds is far filthier than he imagined. His housemate’s got a thing for his shirts… and from the way she’s moaning into one, she’s got a thing for him too. And Joel’s got every intention of making it worse.

Warnings: 18+ afab and fem reader, p in v sex, alludes to curvy reader, unspecified age gap, no description of reader but has big boobs and ass, some dubcon but she’s into it, dirty talk, no use of y/n, unsafe sex, oral (m! receiving), fingering, finger sucking, creampie, degradation, praise kink, ass play

Word count: 4.3k

Joel Miller wasn’t a man who jumped to conclusions. He was a man of patience, of careful observation. Years of surviving had drilled that into him. But something wasn’t sitting right.

For the past few weeks, his flannels had been turning up… different. Damp in places they shouldn’t be. Not rain-soaked, not sweat-stained—just wet. He’d pick one up from where he left it, and the fabric would cling to his fingers, the scent of something faint but unmistakable lingering in the fibers. Something warm. Something intimate.

At first, he thought maybe the laundry had been left out too long. Maybe it was just one of those things. But it kept happening. And every time, it was one of his favorites. The ones he wore most. The ones she seemed to watch him in. His housemate.

She wasn’t careless. Wasn’t the type to spill something and not say a word. But Joel had noticed the way she lingered when he pulled on one of those flannels, how her gaze dragged over him, how she hesitated just a little too long when handing one back. He already had a feeling. And today, he was going to confirm it.

So instead of heading out on patrol like he was supposed to, Joel doubled back, moving quiet, careful. The snow crunched beneath his boots, but he knew the sounds of Jackson well enough to weave between them, to slip into his own home without so much as a whisper.

The house was still. The kind of stillness that came with someone who thought they were alone. He gently turned the knob and pushed the door open, the hinges whispering a soft protest. The warmth of the house enveloped him like a lover's embrace. His eyes adjusted to the dim light, and his gaze fell upon a sight that made his blood boil with desire and possessiveness.

And the moment he heard it—soft, breathy, a sound that hit him low in his stomach—he knew.

Her.

His flannel—his—draped over her frame, too big, the sleeves bunched around her wrists, the hem riding up as she moved. She was bent over the kitchen table, the flannel riding up to expose her round, bare ass. The shirt was too large for her, but it clung to her in all the right places, revealing her voluptuous figure, hips rolling into her own hand, her face turned into his shirt like it was the only thing tethering her to this moment.

And Christ, if that wasn’t a sight that damn near knocked the air from his lungs.

Joel exhaled through his nose, slow and deep. He should leave. Should turn around, pretend he hadn’t seen a damn thing.

But instead, he stepped closer, the floorboards groaning a little under his heavy boots. She gasped, spinning around with a start, her cheeks flushing a deep red. The flannel was open, and she had been using his shirt to muffle her moans. The sight of her, so vulnerable and caught in the act, only served to fuel his desire. He set the rifle against the wall, his eyes never leaving hers, and strode purposefully across the room.

"That why my flannels keep turnin’ up damp, darlin’?"

"Joel," she stuttered, her voice a mix of shock and arousal. "I-I can explain."

He didn't wait for her excuses. The sight of her flustered and exposed only added to the power he felt surging through him. "I don't want explanations," he said gruffly, his voice a low rumble. "I want to know why you're using my things for... that."

Her eyes widened, the pupils dilating as she took in the look on his face. It was a mix of anger and something else, something darker and more primal. She could see the tension in his jaw, the way his muscles flexed under his shirt. Joel was never one to mince words, and his directness only served to turn her on even more.

"I-I just..." she stuttered again, trying to find the words, but they were lost in the thick haze of lust that had settled over the room. The flannel fell open further, revealing her naked chest, her nipples hard with arousal. She reached for it instinctively, but Joel's hand shot out, grabbing her wrist and stopping her.

"You like wearing my shirts, huh?" he said, his voice thick with a challenge. "Let's see how you like the real thing."

With that, Joel closed the distance between them, pulling the flannel from her body. She didn't resist, instead letting out a shaky breath as his calloused hands grazed her bare skin. He tossed the fabric aside, his gaze raking over her nakedness. The sight of her made him want to conquer and claim, to show her who was in charge here.

He grabbed the back of her neck, pulling her closer until their lips almost touched. "You're playing with fire, darling," he murmured, his voice a warning and a promise. He felt her pulse racing under his fingers, her body trembling with anticipation.

Their eyes locked in a silent battle of wills, but Joel knew he'd already won. She was his for the taking, and she knew it. With a smirk that barely touched his lips, he claimed her mouth with a bruising kiss. His tongue pushed past her teeth, tasting the sweetness of her mouth as his hands roamed over her curves, leaving goosebumps in their wake. She moaned into the kiss, her body melting into his, and he knew he had her.

Breaking away, Joel stepped back, his eyes never leaving hers. "On your knees," he ordered, his voice low and demanding. She obeyed without hesitation, the submissive side of her bubbling to the surface, eager to please the dominant man before her. He unbuckled his belt and unzipped his pants, letting them fall to the floor. His erection sprang free, thick and proud, pointing straight at her plump, parted lips.

"Open," he said, and she did, her eyes never leaving his. He took a fistful of her hair, guiding his length into her mouth. She gagged slightly, but took him deeper, her eyes watering with the effort. Joel's hand tightened in her hair, controlling her movements as he began to fuck her face. He watched with a mix of pleasure and possession as she struggled to keep up with his rhythm, her cheeks hollowing with each thrust.

He could feel her submission, the way she eagerly took him in, and it only made him harder. "You like that?" he growled, his voice thick with lust. She nodded, unable to speak around his cock, and he chuckled darkly. "Good girl." He stroked her cheek with his thumb, the gesture oddly tender amidst the aggression.

Joel pulled out of her mouth with a wet pop, his cock glistening with her saliva. "You've been a bad girl, using my things," he said, his voice a teasing purr. "But I'm going to show you how to use them properly." He stepped back, grabbing a chair from the nearby table and spinning it around. He sat down, his erection still standing proud, and gestured for her to straddle him.

With trembling legs, she obeyed, her pussy wet and aching as she settled over his lap. He reached between them, stroking her clit with a rough thumb before plunging two fingers into her heat. She gasped, her nails digging into his shoulders as he began to pump them in and out, his eyes never leaving hers. The way he touched her, so rough and yet so precise, made her feel alive, like she was teetering on the edge of a cliff and only he could save her from the fall.

"Beg for it," he demanded, his voice a dark whisper that sent shivers down her spine. She bit her lip, fighting the urge to give in, but the pleasure was too much. "Please, Joel," she whimpered, her voice barely a breath. "Fuck me."

The words hung in the air, heavy with need, and Joel's control snapped like a twig under a boot. He yanked her onto his lap, the chair groaning under their combined weight. He positioned the tip of his cock at her entrance, feeling her wetness and heat against his skin. With a single, powerful thrust, he buried himself inside her, making her cry out.

Her nails dug into his shoulders, her body tightening around him like a vice. Joel's eyes rolled back in his head as he savored the sensation of her warmth. He began to move, his hips rocking into hers, each thrust punctuated by a guttural grunt. She met him stroke for stroke, her breasts bouncing with the rhythm, the friction sending waves of pleasure crashing through her body.

He leaned in, his teeth grazing her earlobe as he whispered filthy words, degrading her in the most delicious way. "That's it, take it," he growled, his breath hot against her skin. "You're such a slut for me, aren't you?" She whimpered, her body responding to his words, her walls clenching around him. He liked it when she played the brat, but now she was all his, all submission.

He could feel her climbing closer to the edge, her breaths coming in ragged pants. He reached up, grabbing one of her breasts, rolling the nipple between his thumb and forefinger. The pinch sent a bolt of pleasure through her, making her moan around his cock. He smirked, knowing he had her right where he wanted her.

Joel's other hand slid down to her ass, giving it a firm squeeze before his fingers delved between her cheeks. She gasped as he found her tight hole, teasing it with a single digit. "You're mine," he murmured, pushing into her untouched entrance. "All of you."

The sudden intrusion made her jolt, her eyes flying open. But instead of pulling away, she pushed back into his hand, eager for more. He chuckled darkly, his grip on her hip tightening as he began to fuck her with his finger, the dual sensation making her pussy clench around his cock. "So greedy," he said, his voice a low rumble. "You're going to take everything I give you, aren't you?"

Her only response was a muffled moan, her voice lost in the fabric of his shirt. Joel could feel her orgasm building, her walls fluttering around him like a caged bird desperate to fly. He leaned back, watching her face contort with pleasure, his own climax approaching like a storm on the horizon. His strokes grew faster, his hips snapping into her with a ferocity that left them both gasping for air.

He withdrew his finger from her ass, reaching around to pinch her clit as he fucked her harder. She bucked wildly, her nails raking down his back as the first wave of her climax washed over her. He felt her pussy clench, her juices flooding his cock as she screamed into the fabric of his shirt. The sound sent him over the edge, and with a roar, he emptied himself inside her, filling her to the brim.

Her orgasm was a symphony of sounds, her moans and gasps echoing through the small house. Joel held her hips firmly, ensuring she took every last inch of his release. He watched as she rode the peak of pleasure, her body shaking with the intensity of it all. When she finally collapsed against him, panting and sated, he couldn't help but feel a smug sense of satisfaction.

He kissed her neck, his breath warm and ragged against her skin. "You're mine now," he murmured, his voice thick with possessiveness. "And you're going to wear my cum as a reminder." He felt her shiver in his arms, the dirty talk only serving to excite her further.

Joel's thumb continued to circle her clit lazily, keeping her on the edge. "You liked that, didn't you?" he whispered, his voice a dark promise. "You liked being caught, didn't you?" She nodded, unable to form words, lost in the aftershocks of pleasure.

He pulled out of her with a wet sound, the head of his cock glistening with their combined juices. He stood, lifting her off his lap, and spun her around to face the kitchen counter. "Bend over," he ordered, his voice still commanding. She complied, her knees wobbly from the intense orgasm.

The cool countertop sent a shiver up her spine, and she gripped the edge, her knuckles white with the effort. Joel stepped behind her, his eyes feasting on her reddened, swollen pussy. He grabbed her hips, positioning himself again. With one swift movement, he plunged back into her, making her gasp. He was still hard, still insatiable. He began to fuck her from behind, his thrusts deep and powerful, the sound of skin slapping skin echoing in the room.

Her breasts bounced with each impact, the painful pleasure sending her spiraling back towards the edge. She could feel his grip tighten, his hands leaving bruises on her hips, and she loved it. He was claiming her, marking her as his own, and she reveled in the feeling of submission. She pushed back into him, taking him deeper, her walls clenching around his length.

"You want more?" he growled, his hand reaching around to pinch her clit again. She moaned, the sensation too much, too intense. He chuckled darkly, his teeth grazing her ear. "That's my girl." He pulled almost all the way out before slamming back into her, the suddenness of it making her cry out.

The kitchen counter was slick with their sweat and desire, their bodies moving in a dance of passion and dominance. Joel's hand reached up, wrapping around her neck, his thumb pressing lightly against her throat. The subtle hint of control sent a thrill through her, making her pussy clench around him. She pushed back, eager for the pain, for the feeling of him owning her completely.

He groaned, his hips pistoning into her with renewed vigor. The angle was perfect, hitting her g-spot with every thrust. She could feel another orgasm building, a crescendo of pleasure that threatened to shatter her into a million pieces. "Beg for it," he whispered, his breath hot against her neck. "Tell me you want it, tell me you need it."

Her voice was a desperate whine as she pleaded, "Please, Joel, please let me cum again." He tightened his grip, his thumb pressing slightly harder on her clit. "Not until I say so," he said, his voice a dark command. She whimpered, her body writhing under his control. He knew exactly how to play her, how to tease and taunt until she was begging for release.

He slowed his pace, drawing out each thrust, savoring the feel of her tightness around him. The anticipation was intoxicating, a sweet torment that made his balls ache with need. He watched in the flickering candlelight as her ass cheeks clenched with each movement, her pussy gripping his cock like a vice. The room was a cacophony of their harsh breaths and the wet sounds of their bodies colliding.

"Please," she moaned, her voice desperate. "I need it."

Joel's hand slid from her throat to her clit, his thumb circling it with the perfect amount of pressure. "You're going to come for me," he murmured, his voice a dark promise. "But not yet." He watched her body tense, her muscles tightening around him, desperate for release. The power was intoxicating, the way she trembled under his touch.

He leaned over her, his chest pressing against her back. "You're going to take it all," he breathed into her ear, his voice a seductive growl. "Every inch of me, until I say you can come." She whimpered, her head dropping forward as she tried to push back against him, her hips moving in a silent plea for more.

The room was a blur of sensation, the smell of sex and sweat mixing with the faint scent of burning wood from the fireplace. The candles cast shadows across their bodies, flickering with each thrust. Joel's hand slid down to her ass, his fingers tracing the line between her cheeks before pushing into her again. The feeling of fullness was almost too much, but she craved it, her body begging for the painful pleasure that only he could provide.

"You're so fucking tight," he murmured, his voice strained with his own climax approaching. "I'm going to fill you up until you can't take anymore."

Her eyes squeezed shut, her mouth opening in a silent scream as she felt his thumb push past the tight ring of muscle, invading her ass. The pain was sharp, but it only served to heighten the pleasure. She was lost in a whirlwind of sensations, her body no longer her own as he controlled her every movement. Joel's other hand wrapped around her hip, guiding her to move back onto him, her pussy clenching around his shaft as he pushed deeper into her.

"Look at me," he demanded, his voice harsh. She opened her eyes, her vision swimming with lust. Their gazes locked, the intensity of his stare piercing through the fog of pleasure. "You're going to come for me," he said, his thumb moving in time with his cock, pushing her closer and closer to the precipice. "Now."

Her body obeyed, her orgasm crashing over her like a tidal wave. She screamed his name, her nails digging into the wood as she came apart in his arms. Joel's own climax followed swiftly, his cock pulsing inside her as he filled her up with his seed. He groaned, his hips stuttering as he emptied himself completely.

For a moment, they remained like that, panting and spent. Then Joel pulled out, his cock slipping from her with a wet sound that made her shiver. He stepped back, watching her with hooded eyes as she slowly straightened, her legs shaking. He reached out, tracing the line of her jaw with his thumb, his touch gentle despite the roughness of his hand.

"You're mine now," he said, his voice low and possessive. "Every inch of you." She nodded, her cheeks still flushed, her breaths coming in shallow pants. "Say it," he demanded. "Tell me you're mine."

Her eyes searched his, a mix of shock and awe at the intensity of what had just transpired. "I'm... I'm yours," she finally managed to whisper, the words thick with desire. He leaned in, his mouth claiming hers in a brutal kiss, his tongue demanding entry. She melted into him, her body still trembling from the aftershocks of her climax.

Breaking the kiss, Joel grabbed her chin, tilting her head up to meet his gaze. "And don't you ever forget it," he warned, his voice a low rumble. "You wear my shirts, you take my cum. You're going to be walking around with a constant reminder of who's in charge." He smirked, watching the way her pupils dilated at his words.

Withdrawing his cock from her, Joel reached down, his thumb sliding through their mixed juices, and then back to her pussy. He pushed two fingers inside her, her walls still spasming from the aftershocks of her orgasm. She whimpered, the sensation overwhelmingly intense. He curled his fingers, hitting that spot that made her knees buckle, and began to pump his cum back into her. Her eyes rolled back in her head, her body jolting with each thrust of his digits.

"Look at me," he ordered again, his voice a gravelly whisper. She forced her eyes open, meeting his fiery gaze. "You're going to wear this," he said, pulling his fingers out and holding them up, glistening with their combined release. "Every drop." He brought his hand to her mouth, and she obeyed without question, licking and sucking her taste from his skin. He watched with a dark satisfaction as she swallowed, her eyes never leaving his.

With a grin that didn't quite reach his eyes, Joel leaned in, his breath hot against her cheek. "Now, tell me how much you liked being caught," he said, his voice a sinful purr. She blushed, but the brat in her couldn't resist a little sass. "I liked it," she admitted, her voice a mix of defiance and arousal. "But maybe next time, you could be a bit more... creative with your punishments."

Joel's eyebrow shot up, and he stepped back, his cock still semi-hard and glistening. "Is that a challenge, darling?" He grabbed the flannel she'd been wearing earlier, now discarded on the floor, and wrapped it around her trembling body. "Because I've got plenty of creative ways to keep you in line."

Her heart skipped a beat at the promise in his words. "Maybe," she replied with a smirk, her voice still breathless from her recent climax. "But I'm not promising to be good."

Joel chuckled darkly. "That's what makes it fun," he said, his eyes glinting with amusement. He pulled her closer, his cock brushing against her stomach. She could feel it thickening again, a testament to his insatiable desire. "But for now," he murmured, "we should clean up before I have to be back out on patrol."

The water was cold when Joel turned on the faucet, but it did nothing to cool the heat that still lingered between them. He grabbed a cloth, soaking it before gently cleaning her up. The tender act was a stark contrast to the raw passion they'd just shared, and she found herself leaning into his touch, craving the comfort he offered. When he was done, he tossed the cloth aside and picked her up, carrying her to the bedroom.

He laid her down on the bed, his eyes raking over her naked body. He was still dressed, a stark reminder of the power dynamic they'd just established. "You're going to be the death of me," he murmured, his voice thick with lust. She couldn't help but giggle, the sound light and airy in the tension-filled room.

The bed dipped as he climbed onto it, his weight pressing down on the mattress. He hovered over her, his hand sliding up her thigh, his thumb brushing against her still-sensitive clit. She gasped, her body reacting instantly. He chuckled, the sound dark and seductive. "I can see you're eager for more," he said, his voice a tease.

He leaned down, his mouth capturing hers in a kiss that was both punishing and gentle. His tongue danced with hers, tasting the lingering flavor of their passion. When he pulled away, she was left panting, her eyes glazed with lust. "But I've got patrol," he murmured against her skin, his lips moving to her neck. He bit down, not hard enough to draw blood, but enough to make her moan. "You're going to have to wait for it."

Her hands found his shoulders, her nails digging in as she tried to pull him closer. "Please, Joel," she begged, her voice needy and desperate. He chuckled, his teeth grazing her earlobe. "You're insatiable." He kissed her again, his hand sliding down to cup her breast, his thumb teasing the nipple until it was a hard peak. "But I like that about you."

With a final groan of protest, Joel rolled off the bed, his cock still semi-erect. "I'll be back," he said, his voice a promise. "And when I do, you'd better be ready for me." He strode to the bathroom, the muscles in his back flexing with each step. She watched him go, her body still trembling from the aftermath of their encounter.

The cold water from the sink brought Joel back to reality, the chill a stark contrast to the heat of his desire. He washed his hands, taking a deep breath to compose himself. He couldn't believe he'd just taken her like that, in the kitchen of all places. But the sight of her in his flannel, her face flushed with arousal, had driven him over the edge.

Wiping his hands on the towel, he returned to the bedroom, his eyes devouring her again. She lay there, a mess of tangled limbs and desire, the flannel barely covering her curves. He couldn't resist leaning down to kiss her, his hand caressing her cheek. "I'll be back soon," he whispered, his voice hoarse. She nodded, her eyes still glazed with passion.

Joel pulled on his patrol gear, his mind racing with thoughts of her. The way she'd looked at him, the way she'd taken him, it was all he could think about. He had to get out there, had to focus on the job at hand, but she was a siren's call he couldn't ignore.

He stepped out into the cold night, the chill air slapping him in the face, a stark contrast to the heat they'd generated in the kitchen. The patrol was quiet, his mind wandering back to her, to the way her body had responded to his every touch. He found himself smiling, a rare occurrence in this post-apocalyptic world.

Hours ticked by, the moon casting eerie shadows across the deserted town. Joel's thoughts remained fixated on her, his cock twitching at the memory of her moans and whimpers. He'd never felt such a potent mix of lust and tenderness before, and it unnerved him.

When Joel finally returned home, the house was quiet, the only sound the crackling of the dying embers in the fireplace. He shed his gear, stripping down to nothing but his skin, his cock already hard with anticipation. As he padded silently towards the bedroom, his eyes fell on her, sprawled out on the bed, her chest rising and falling with deep, even breaths. She looked so peaceful, so innocent, but Joel knew the fire that burned within her, the desire that she kept hidden.

With a smirk playing on his lips, he stepped into the room, the floorboards creaking beneath his weight. She stirred, her eyes fluttering open to find him standing over her, naked and gleaming with sweat. He leaned down, his hand trailing up her thigh, his breath hot against her ear. "Are you ready for more, darlin'?" he whispered, his voice a dark promise.

[slimybeth69]

Part 3- Your People

Series Masterlist | Part 1 | Part 2

Summary: After the civilized world you once knew came to an end-- the men that survived... well they just take, take, take. Growing tired of having things taken from you-- you have a hankerin' to take somethin' for yourself... and make him perfect.

w/c~ 8k

content warnings: Reader (no descriptions besides having hair that can be pulled) is in a weird mindset; hears voices, talks to herself. non-con/dub-con (if you're looking for enthusiastic consent, ya wont find it here) smut, cock-warming, unprotected P in V, creampies, oral (m&f receiving), rough sex, dirty talk, pussy and peen pronouns, alcohol consumption (altered mental state). Joel wears a shock collar and other various horrible things that would keep him in check-- and he doesn't fucking like it.

Reader warning- While it looks real pretty, this is a Dead Dove, Do Not Eat. If ya do and then come complaining to me that you ate a dead dove-- I'm gonna fight you. I warned you. I'm coming from a place of love and respect for my readers who have ever gone through anything traumatic and maybe don't want to relive that, it's in here. I try and do it tastefully and respectfully in the best way, i'll mark it with a lil divider where you can skip the part I'm worried about. it's smut but it's sad. There is your warning. I love you.

You gotta sleep, kid. You need it.

Mister-J looks so warm and comfortable… go on and crawl in beside him.

He does look so comfortable and inviting, especially from your spot just out of his reach if you were to fall asleep. His chest rises and falls slowly as he breathes in his sleep. It’s memorizing, and almost hypnotic enough to make you forget all of your fears— forget all of the things that made laying next to him with his arms around you physically excruciating.

S’okay, Baby. You’ll get there, it’ll get easier ‘n he won’t seem so big ‘n scary anymore.

There is a reason he seems big and scary, kid. Your gut is telling you not to trust him, so don’t.

Oh, stop it. If he wanted to kill her, he would have— he would have done it by now. He’s big ‘n strong— he could, and he hasn’t.

That sweet, soft voice does have a good point…

Doesn’t mean he isn’t waiting for a better opportunity.

The dark, serious voice has a point too…

This always happens, the voices say things that conflict one another, but they both have a point. They both make sense but never about the same thing. And they argue. And they’re loud. It’s only when you need them, that you really, really want them to say something that they are quiet.

The little flashlight that had been attached to the backpack Mister-man—

Joel… he has a name. He’s a real person, kid.

You flick the flashlight off quickly so it’s dark again.

Mister-mans, Mister-J… Joel… it don’t matter none, Sugar. He’s yours, and you can call him whatever you want.

You flick the light back on so you can watch him sleep. It’s incredible how calm he is, and how he fell asleep as soon as you laid down next to him after saying he couldn’t sleep.

Sometimes that happens to you though, sometimes you need to touch yourself, and make yourself squirm and moan and come, and then sleep finds you. Sometimes the whiskey puts you to sleep before you even have the desire to do that to yourself.

Whatever Mister-J did with his tongue was so much better than your fingers, wasn’t it?

It most definitely was. It was probably the most incredible feeling you’ve ever experienced. Not that you hadn’t ever experienced it before, but this time…it was soft, gentle— and you wanted it more than anything. That made it feel even fucking better, how badly you wanted to sit down on Mister-mans face and grind down onto his mouth.

He was making out with your cunt. Deep, long, tongue swirling kisses. He would open and close his mouth, and suck. He would lick and lap at all spots you didn’t even know could make you feel good.

When you would take his cock deep in your throat and gag on it, he would moan- loudly-and the vibrations from that were like earthquakes, they touched parts inside of you that were left unexplored by anyone before Mister.

He was perfect.

The idea of laying your head down on his big, muscular bicep was nice until you were actually doing it, and then everything about it felt foreign. It was like sleeping too close to the fire, surrounded by too many blankets.

You had gotten so used to sleeping alone, that the feeling of someone next to you didn’t feel right anymore. It made you sad and you’re not entirely sure why.

So that’s why you’re here on the floor and not snuggled up against Mister-man. It’s like the universe played some cruel joke on you- and you got your favorite food but when you bite into it, it’s rancid.

But your fingers twitch toward him anyway—like roots in dirt searching for water. His arm is right there. His breath is slow and steady.

Go on. He’s warm as fresh bread.

You shift an inch closer.

Dangerous as a snake in the grass.

But his skin smells like leather and sweat and you want to taste him again. Want to run your tongue from the tip of his cock, to the spot just in front of his ear that makes him sigh when you kiss him there.

Crawling—quiet like scared prey— you move until your face hovers over his chest. His shirt rides up just enough to show a scar on his perfectly doughy stomach. And another on his rib cage. It looks newer, still old enough to be a scar, but pink instead of white.

You wonder if it aches when he breathes. If that’s the reason his voice sounds like gravel sometimes.

He’ll crush you.

He’ll hold you.

It sounds like a song the way the sweet voice says it.

You touch the scar with your pinky finger, feather-light—and he doesn’t stir. But then he sighs—a rumble deeper than thunder—and your guts twist.

You scramble back, heart slamming against the back of your throat.

The sweet voice clucks at you.

You’re spooking yourself. 

You’re alive because you spook.

The flashlight rolls under your knee when you shift—plastic clattering loud enough to wake dead things—and Mister’s brow tightens. For one gut-drop second, his eyes flicker open, staring up at you, before he grunts and turns onto his side, back to you now.

He’s mad again? How, and why? What did you do wrong? You had done everything right.

You keep poking that bear and you’re going to get mauled, kid.

He ain’t mad…look’it his hands, Sugar.

They’re not balled up into fists, they’re relaxed. His whole body is. Everything about him seems so at peace.

Your stomach growls loud enough to wake the dead. It’s been a while since you’ve eaten— and then you only had half of a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, and some whiskey.

Joel’s boot shifts with a dry scrape of leather—and your lungs forget how air works. But he just mumbles something that sounds like “goddamn horse” with his face smushed against the pillow.

Mister-J talks in his sleep? He’s precious.

He is. It’s hard to contain the feeling in your chest when he sighs loudly, rolling onto his stomach, curling his arms under the pillow.

Instead of trying to face your fears of crawling into bed with him and falling asleep next to someone else, you crawl on your hands and knees back to the chair across the room. The whiskey bottle is still tucked between the cushion where you left it.

--

Even with almost half of a bottle of whiskey in you, your eyes won’t close. You only know what time it is because the soft whir of the solar powered generator kicks on, and the singular lamp in the corner flicks to life. It’s dark outside now. 

The electric hum from the bulb makes your skin crawl, and your head buzz.

Part of you feels bad for keeping Mister down here like this. He doesn’t even know what time it is, he’ll probably wake up soon, getting ready to start the day. You wonder if he misses the sun, if he ever walked barefoot in the grass and if he misses that feeling too.

When you weren’t allowed outside, you missed the sun. You missed the grass between your toes. You missed being able to jump into the river and swim around with your brother whenever you wanted. There were a lot of things you missed when you weren’t allowed to go outside.

Unscrewing the whiskey cap, you take a swig and relish in the way it burns. It drowns out the voices, but it doesn’t dull the ache between your legs— the memory of his mouth makes you shift in the soft recliner.

In the soft, pale light spilling into the room from behind the aged, yellow lampshade, you can see Mister-J… and how excited he is. He’s on his back, shirt riding up over his stomach again, the bulge in his sweatpants clear as day now.

There is a new voice you’ve never heard before, and it’s not saying anything— only screaming. Loud, and high pitched. It’s excruciating. It’s the only thing you hear now, not even the sound of your own voice telling you what to do, or what to think or say.

When you stand, the whiskey sloshes between your temples. It makes you sway and almost lose your balance, but you press your hand to a support beam that juts out of the floor and into the ceiling.

Heavy, clumsy, limping feet and a swollen ankle carry you to Mister-J.

His cock is hard and heavy in your hand and he tastes just like he did last night. He stirs under your touch—a low groan vibrating through clenched teeth—and your pussy tightens around nothing. Mister arches his hips up against your slow moving fist, trying to fuck your hand momentarily before stilling and settling back down into the mattress. His eyes are still shut tight beneath furrowed eyebrows.

It’s pathetically cute how bad he wants this. How badly he needs it.

The screaming inside your head morphs into static.

Your fingers rub slow circles over damp fabric between your legs while your rib cage starts to feel like a hive of wasps. Everything inside of you is buzzing as you lean over and swirl your tongue around the ridge of his cock.

Wrong.

That dark voice sounds like it’s coming through the static like old radio stations.

You pull your hand away from Mister-J's cock and cover your face with it, trying to hold back the tears that are threatening to spill. This is all wrong, all of it.

S’right. It’s all right.

The static transmutes into tornado sirens.

Your hand finds his cock again and it throbs in your grasp. There is no hesitation when you take him into your mouth with a gentleness you didn’t know you possessed when you’re this intoxicated. Delicate movements and laps of your tongue along his shaft make him moan softly, still slumbering.

Salt and musk take over your senses as he pulses against your tongue—wanting even in his unconsciousness. Your throat spasms around him as you gag, tears hot on your lashes. One hand brushes against his thigh as you move to steady yourself on the mattress while the other slips into your own waistband. Two fingers slide into you with no resistance. You’re so wet that you almost feel embarrassed.

Inside.

The sweet voice sings to you over the cacophony going on inside your head.

Mister’s hips jerk again, involuntary, desperate. A string of saliva connects your lip to his cock when you pull back to breathe. The room tilts—whiskey and shame on your tongue—but you don’t stop. Can’t stop. Not when his thighs were trembling just a moment ago.

After kicking your shorts off, you climb on top. Mister feels so hot pressed up against your cunt. Yours and his breath catch in your throats when you sink down into his lap. Your eyes close to hide from the stretch that burns in a slippery, and shameful way.

The wasps behind your ribs sharpen their stingers as you slowly start to rock your hips against his. Mister’s eyelids flutter but he doesn’t wake-up, not fully. He just hovers in that feverish space between dreaming and drowning. A place you’re familiar with.

Bad. Bad. Bad.

Good. Good. Good.

You want to carve yourself into his bones before the tornado sirens rip your skull apart.

The oven mitts make useless fists at his sides as he arches beneath you, tendons in his neck pulled wire-tight. His hips stutter upward instinctively, chasing more friction, seeking the deepest, warmest parts of you.

His eyes snap open, “The fuck are you—” Mister-man’s voice is rough like sandpaper but you don’t let him finish before you slap your hand over his mouth.

“Shhhh, makin’ you feel good,” you moan quietly, your hips never faltering. His cock slides across a spot inside of you that whites the edges of your vision.

He mumbles something, his teeth scraping along your palm as he does so. It vaguely sounds like, ‘Get off’a me’ or ‘get off on me,’.

“M’tryin’,” you groan, catching your bottom lip between your teeth. Your cheeks are wet, but from tears or sweat, you don’t know.

How can everything make sense up here on top of Mister-J, and still feel so incredibly… wrong?

The oven mitts start to drum against your thighs as he squirms underneath you.

It…hurts? Mister is hitting you? 

Hurting you.

You like it. 

“Knock it off!” You press harder against this mouth with your hand, your fingers digging into his cheeks. It’s impossible to stop riding him, to stop yourself from needing this brutal closeness with Mister. 

You’re being bad. 

You like it. 

His muffled growls vibrate against your palm—angry or pleading or both—but your cunt clenches harder around him anyway. Release is so close, you can feel yourself teeter on the precipice, but you can’t seem to push yourself over.

“Please, please, p-please— jus’ wanna, I just wanna— please, please, Mister-J,” you whine, face wet with perspiration and tears now, they’re flowing freely from your eyes. “I want it, need it—”

“Stop, goddammit—” he shouts at you from behind your fingers.

It makes you flinch but you don’t stop, and your pussy pulses around him. Your hand presses harder, fingernails leaving moon crescents in his flesh mingled with his stubble.

You just want to feel good, to be able to fall asleep once this is all over.

Oven mitts thump and scrabble at your hip, and that only makes your thighs clamp tighter around his waist. You want to swallow every twitch of his cock, everything he can give you– you want it. 

He bucks his hips up into you and touches a place inside you that leaves you gasping for air. “Yes, yes, yes—” you groan breathlessly, leaning forward to lay your body on top of his, resting your forehead against his collarbone.

Mister bucks his hips up into yours again— once, twice, three times and suddenly you’re being shoved off of him, pushed to the side like you’re weightless.

Before you can really even know what hit you, Mister-man has his entire body weight pinning you down underneath him. He has his forearm forced against your neck.

Your thumb instinctively presses against down, searching for the shock collar button but you just end up pressing against your own palm.

The static, and the sirens and the screaming— the voices. It all goes completely silent and the only thing you can hear is the blood roaring in your ears.

Mistake?

Mistake. 

“Got’chya,” He growls down at you, his eyes dark and blown wide.

“Get off me! Get off me! Get off of me!” You scream at him as loudly as you can, “Get off of me! Get off! Off, off, offoffoffoff! I’ll fucking kill you, you stupid fucking sonofabitch- get the fuck off me!”

“Awhh, lil crazy puppy don’t like it?” He murmurs, pressing his lips to your tear stained cheekbone.

Your legs begin to flail wildly in an attempt to dislodge him, push him, get him off. Your hands flying to his face, scratching and clawing at the soft skin, and his vulnerable, delicate eyes. You can’t find the words for how much you don’t like it, so you scream— it’s loud and rattles in the back of your throat as Mister-man clamps his hand over your mouth to silence you.

His breath is hot and ragged against your ear, the oven mitts clumsily grappling at your wrists as you thrash. "Stop—fuckin'—fightin’—," he grits out, but his voice cracks on the last word.

You taste copper—your teeth sink into his palm at some point, his blood smearing your chin. He pulls his hand back back to look at the broken skin, and you clench your eyes shut, flinching away from the incoming blows.

The room tilts and suddenly Joel’s weight isn’t just on your body; it’s inside your head, like pressure forcing memories that had buried deep to the surface like lava from a volcano.

Different hands holding you down. A different room. Different voices in your ear.

“Nononononono,” you whimper in a shriveled voice you don’t recognize. 

“Hey!” Joel’s voice is sharp and grounding.

His arm lets up just enough for you to suck in a shattered breath. You’re both trembling now, your chests heaving against one anothers. His beard scratches your temple as he turns his face away from your clawing hands, but you don’t miss it—there is a  flicker in his eyes when your choked sob hits the air between you. 

Something wet smears your cheek. His blood? Your tears? It’s hard to tell. 

“M’gonna make you feel real good, crazy girl.” His lips brush your earlobe as his hips grind down into yours, the length of him sliding between your folds, the tip notched at your entrance.

“Stop,” you whine, but the force has left your voice. Something about him breathing in your ear, something about the sound he makes as he shifts his hips and slips himself inside of you. The tears continue to fall, even as you gasp and clench around him. 

“She’s suckin’ me right in baby,” Joel purrs in your ear while his hips start to move. 

You can feel every fucking inch of him, every vein, and every single beat of his heart through the slick walls of your cunt. “Oh god,” you groan, your stiff, frightened hands curling in the hair on the back of his head, the other gripping one of his strong, strained biceps. 

You're terrified, but Joel's words and touch are overwhelming you, making your body respond in ways you didn’t know could in a position like this.

He thrusts slowly at first as he sinks deeper inside you. But soon his pace quickens and the slapping, wet sounds coming from between your legs fill the small basement room. "Yeah just like that," Mister groans, his lips ghosting over your cheek. "Take it all, baby girl.”

Your walls clench around him, pulling him in as if eager for more. You feel delirious with fear and an unbidden arousal. Tears stream down your face, but soft moans spill from your lips.

Joel licks at your tears and leaves gentle kisses in their place, his beard scraping against your sensitive skin. "Shhhh, I got you," he murmurs between thrusts.

The room spins and blurs as the pleasure builds. Nothing exists and nothing is real anymore; Mister-man’s weight pinning you down, his cock splitting you open, the sour, sweaty, musky scent of him.

He’s real. He’s real. He’s real. He’s real. He’s real and he’s good. He’s good, he’s good, he’s good. He’s not killing you, not hurting you.

So good. It’s so good.

You turn your head to capture his salty, tear stained lips with yours, opening your mouth to let him in. His lips press against yours desperately, tongue licking at your teeth as he slips inside.

Your body arches up to meet him, craving more of his touch even as fear still coils in your gut. It’s like you’re two separate people wrapped up into a whole. One part of you wants him with everything that you are, and the other is ready to hide, ready to slip into the cracks into the wall and never come out.

His oven mitts move to your waist and fumble with the threadbare shirt you have on, trying to push it up over the swell of your breasts.

“Fuck,” he grunts, nipping at your bottom lip as he pulls away from the kiss. He sits back on his knees, cock still throbbing inside of you while your walls flutter around him.

“Don’t, oh god, no. Please don’t go-” you sob, hands and fingers clawing at his forearms, desperate for him to come back. “P-Please don’t leave me,” you whine sadly, 

Mister says nothing as he places both mitt covered hands inside your shirt where it’s fastened with buttons. He pulls the two pieces of fabric apart like paper. The buttons fly in every direction, scattering across the floor and some landing in bed with you. Joel stares down at your naked body and you feel more exposed than you ever have in your entire life.

“Jesus christ,” he murmurs, eyes tracing every single one of your curves. His mittened hands cups the swell of your tits, thumb swiping over the stiff buds

It’s like you’ve been zapped by the shock collar. Your back arches into his hand, your eyes clamp shut.

“Nuh-uh, watch me,” he growls. He waits until your eyes are on him before he leans over and takes one of your nipples into his mouth. His tongue swirls and teeth graze and bite down.

“Oh my god,” you groan, your fingers gripping his hair tighter, your nails dragging red, almost bloody marks down his arm.

Mister releases your nipple with a wet pop, blowing cool air across it almost like he’s teasing you. Goosebumps erupt across your skin as he takes the other into his mouth, alternating between harsh sucking and tender kisses.

You mewl softly as he begins to thrust again, each movement slow and deliberate. He drives deep inside of you and hits that spot that blurs the edges of your vision again, and again, and again.

You stare up at him in awe- his beard is longer, thicker than it was when he first came here, his hair disheveled and damp with sweat hangs in his forehead. He leans back and pushes the loose strands away from his face with an oven mitt.

Handsome.

He is.

Strong.

Being so gentle.

With you, Sugar. So gentle—

With you.

"Please," you whimper, spine bowing as pleasure coils tight in your belly as his hips snap against yours loudly. “More. Need more…”

He grins down at you, eyes crinkled at the corners, “I’ll give ya’ more, sweetheart.” If you thought Mister was handsome before, when he smiles your heart swells. and the pressure and tightness inside of you feels like it’s about to burst.

He wraps one hand underneath your knee and brings it up, resting your ankle on his shoulder by his ear, repeating the process with the other leg. He grips your thighs, the scratchy fabric of the oven mitts drags across your skin. Joel never lets up, never slows down the brutal, bruising pace he sets. 

A string of expletives and maybe his name more than once spill out of your mouth quickly, stumbling over the words as your body trembles underneath him.

All of the air is pushed out of you as he leans over, pushing your knees up to your chest and starts fucking into you with deep, long strokes. His pelvis grinds against your swollen clit with each powerful snap forward, pushing you closer and closer to the edge.

"I can feel her squeezin’ me," he rasps hotly in your ear, licking the shell before biting down on your earlobe. “Come on my cock, crazy girl.”

That does it. It’s more than enough to push you over the edge. “Oh—” Your head tips back with a silent scream as your orgasm crashes through you like a tidal wave, making your entire body shudder and convulse beneath him. “Fuck… Joel!” Sparks burst behind your eyelids as pure rapture consumes you.

Mister sucks your earlobe as you come, his sweaty temple pressed against yours as the waves wash over you. He’s kissing and licking down to your neck, and bites down hard right over your pulse point, sucking hard enough to hurt. "That's it baby girl," he grunts against the spot he just bit.

It’s like your whole body is on fire, everything is too much, it’s all too good.

You feel a new pressure, a new sensation and it’s familiar, but foreign all at the same time. A new release, it’s different and it’s happening so fast.

“Stop! Oh my— Mist- Joel, p-please,” you plead for some sort of relief. “I’m gunna—”

Joel presses his lips to yours again, silencing you. You twist your head to the side, pulling away from his mouth as he kisses down your cheek to your jaw. “S’okay— let go...”

"I...I don't...can't..." You gasp out between ragged breaths. Hot, wet tears still leak from the corners of your eyes as the intense pleasure builds to an unbearable peak.

“Ya’ can,” he pants, resting his forehead on the side of your head. “Cryin’ only makes it feel better, baby girl.” He shifts his hips, angles them differently and fucks you harder- faster.

“P-Please,” you whimper, unsure if you’re begging him to stop, or to keep going. “S’too much!”

“Shut up,” he growls, nipping at your cheek gently, teeth scraping skin as he pistons into you relentlessly. “Let it happen, crazy girl.”

So you do- body obeying his command even as your mind reels with what’s about to happen. A second climax crashes over you, more intense than the first. It erupts from you in a wet splash against Mister’s lower stomach and pelvis, it drips down the curve of your ass and you feel it seeping into the mattress underneath you.

“Good fuckin’ girl,” he praises breathlessly. “Such a good fuckin’ girl cummin’ on Mister’s cock again.”

You sob in pleasure and embarrassment simultaneously as he fucks you through it, his deep voice rasping in your ear.

“Crazy,” He murmurs. His thrusts grow clumsy, and he’s panting in your ear, kissing the side of your face. His tongue captures the tears on your cheeks again like they’re his favorite drink as your fingers dig into the soft flesh on his shoulder. “Makin’ me fuckin’ crazy,” he snaps suddenly, pulling back and out of you completely.

You whimper at the loss but he presses your thighs together tightly with his hands and forearms, and slips his cock between them, the length siding through your wet folds.

Mister-J kisses your ankle, his teeth biting down on the skin as he groans loudly, warmth spreads and seeps between your thighs, and slick lower lips, the crease where your legs meet your pelvis.

You stare up at him, watching as his eyes close, his brow furrows, his hips jerking back and forth clumsily as he empties himself onto your lower half.

Your legs tremble as he slides his softening cock out from between your thighs. 

That was the most incredible, and intense feeling you’ve ever experienced and you’re not sure if you should love him, or hate him for what he just did to you. The wet spot on the mattress is an embarrassing reminder of what happened seconds ago.

“S’good for ya’?” Mister asks, running one of his oven mitts over his forehead, wiping the sweat away. His eyes move from your face, down your still naked body, his cum smeared across your mound and lower stomach.

You pull your shirt closed around your bare torso, holding it closed with one hand. You use your good foot and the other hand to push yourself onto the cold concrete floor— skin scraping roughly as you shove yourself away from him.

His brows pinch together tightly, and he narrows his eyes on you. “Where’re ya’ goin’?” He sounds… concerned? Angry? Disappointed?

The words don’t find you, thoughts don’t come to you anymore as you hold the shirt over your chest and glare at him. All you can do is scream at him. It comes from somewhere deep and your lungs hurt, your throat feels like it could bleed from how raw it is after.

“Where’re ya’ goin’?”

He watches as tears continue to pour down your cheeks, your face twisting up tightly. You inhale deeply, and it looks like you’re trying to regain your composure.

Then you scream at him. It’s long and loud and hurts his ears, but he stares at you until you’re done. He continues to watch as you scurry away from him in a clumsy, stumbling crab-crawl until your back bumps into the leg of the table. 

You flinch and stifle a sob, and finally take a deep, shaky breath. You use the table to push yourself to your feet, turning away from him finally. You shove the table in his direction, grabbing the shock collar remote before you turn, and limp into the bathroom, slamming the door shut behind you.

The dull roar of the infected grows louder from upstairs. They’re still there, and that means the two of you are stuck together for at least another day or two, maybe longer.

The door opens again, and a metal bucket comes hurdling out of the bathroom and through the air. It hits the wall, and drops to the floor noisily with chaotic, metal clangs until it comes to settle in the corner by the mattress.

The door slams shut again.

You’re broken, he can see it in your eyes almost all the time, but there was a moment when he was on top of you where he thought you might have completely checked out– gone somewhere else, somewhere he didn’t mean to take you. 

Traumatized the poor puppy. Pro’lly in there cryin’.

He’s not worried that you’re crying. Nope. Not even a little. 

Alright- that’s what you wanna keep tellin’ yourself, go right ahead. 

He’s worried he just signed his death certificate. 

Joel wasn’t trying to take anything from you— not like that. You were already on top of him, riding him, but you just looked like you needed some help, like you needed him to take control. Like you didn’t know what you were doing up there, rolling and swirling your hips in any direction. It wasn’t bad, but it wasn’t ever going to get you there- where you wanted to be so badly.

Joel took you there, made you fucking squirt all over him and he took some sense of pride in that. 

Joel helps himself to jerky and bread, he drinks as much water as his body will comfortably allow. For the first time in weeks, he’s actually full. His stomach feels like it’s stretched like he might actually burst. 

–-

At first Joel thought you just needed a couple minutes. Maybe you wanted to clean up in the privacy of the bathroom without his eyes on you. But hours go by and he hears nothing coming from the separate room. Nothing. 

It’s silent. Completely. No shrieking or clicking of the infected from upstairs either. 

It’s the lack of control that’s pissing him off more than he would care to admit. Being captive was of course at the top of his ‘things to be pissed off about’ list,  but if he was going to be stuck here with you, he wishes he could at least have a say in what goes on. 

Hasn’t seen the sun, hasn’t had a proper shower in god knows when, hasn’t had a real meal in just as long. If you would give him just a little more freedom, things wouldn’t be too fucking bad here. 

Now you’re gettin’ it. 

You’re making Joel crazy, now he’s thinking about complying?

Y’been complyin’, Mister. Complied real damn good in that bed just then.

Oh fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Shit. 

Has Joel been complying? What the fuck is going on? Why didn’t he kill you in bed? Why didn’t he strangle you, bite your jugular out of your throat. He could have, he felt your heartbeat on his tongue. He could have ended all of this right then. 

But ya’ didn’t! 

He sure fucking didn’t. He was so unworried about killing, that he made sure you came– twice – before he finished. 

Looked so sweet comin’ on your cock, perfect tits bouncin’, fuckin’ pussy was immaculate. 

Joel presses the oven mitts into the sockets of his eyes and groans loudly. 

--

Joel’s eyes snap open at the rattling coming from inside the room. He shoots up, looking around with crusty eyes and blurry vision. He expects to see you but is met with the sight of that fucking opposum sitting on the table with a piece of Joel’s jerky in his clawed little fingers, munching happily on the dried meat. 

“Git!” Joel shouts. The small animal doesn’t even flinch at Joel’s outburst, just continues to eat that precious protein. “Y’little fuckin’--” Joel grumbles, pushing himself to his feet. He stands in front of the table, looking down at it- the opposum- Puddin’. 

He just stares right back up at Joel, chewing quickly and swallowing. 

Kinda cute.

“S’fuckin’ gross,” Joel grumbles. He doesn’t really want to touch that thing, he doesn’t want to get whatever diseases that thing could be carrying. 

He’s got a collar on. 

Puddin’ does have a collar on. Joel imagines you taking your time picking it out for him, going through all the colors and designs. He can see you finding the teal and pink collar, holding it up against his fur and saying it’s perfect. That Puddin’ would be the most handsome opossum this mall has ever seen. 

It makes him smile. 

--

It feels like two fucking days--two goddamn days since Joel saw you walk into that bathroom and slam the door shut practically in his face. 

You’re either dead in there or plotting the most painful ways to kill him. Both choices make Joel sick to his stomach. 

–--

Joel watches you behind the metal grate that keeps the mattress store all locked up nice and tight. He’s on the wrong fucking side! He’s on the mall side and you’re tucked under the covers of your comfortable looking bed. Seven mattresses stacked on top of each other like you’re in some fucking story he’d read to Sarah when she was really little. 

Joel almost wishes he could go back to the basement because this is more dehumanizing than being tied up by the elbows or roped up to a chair. 

The metal chain around his neck is tight, and it digs into his skin. It’s thick,  heavy and has prongs on it– like he’s a fucking dog. A violent dog that lunges, and bites and attacks. 

You opened the door to the bathroom an hour ago with the choke chain in your hand, the shock collar remote taped to the other, and the most exhausted look Joel’s ever seen on anyone's face. Big dark circles under your eyes, disassociated stare like you weren’t even really looking at Joel when you spoke to him in almost indecipherable mumbling.

Joel fought you a little when you padlocked the choke chain to his neck, and added a smaller lock to the shock collar. But he stopped when you said you were gonna take his oven mitts off his hands. 

Where are all the infected? It sounded like there had been a horde of them up here two days ago and now there is not a single sign that they had even been here. 

When Joel had questioned you about what he would do if more infected came, you very confidently said that no one could get in or out that easily anymore; that you had made this place nice and safe for your ‘mister-man’.

Ain’t ever had no one like that before, have ya’?

No.

That had always been Joel’s job; to keep everyone else safe. 

Who made sure that he was safe? 

There had always been give and take with everyone else, even Tommy and Tess. There was love there, sure– but never just someone absolutely and completely tearing themselves open to make sure that Joel was taken care of. 

The only thing you wanted in return was his company. 

Might’a never touched ya’ if you hadn’t asked for it. 

He wonders what your name is. How old you are, where you came from. How long have you been out here…

Joel grabs the metal cord wrapped in some sort of plastic or vinyl material that goes all the way up to the ceiling and gives it a shake as he looks up. You’ve attached it to some other sort of rope or cable that’s been tied from one end of the mall to the other. 

The other end is connected to Joel’s choke chain. 

As soon as your eyes closed he attempted to unclip himself from it but it wouldn’t budge. He tried everything but it was like you welded the clasp closed. 

Joel wanders. That’s all he can do. He’s got more than enough slack to go into whatever store he wants and walk around, inspect.

As he does this his mind doesn’t stop thinking about you. Why didn’t you sleep with him? What did you do while he slept on the bed? Did you sleep? Have you eaten? What the fuck did you do in the bathroom for two whole days?

Joel finds a place where the sun is shining through a hole in the ceiling and faces it with his eyes closed. He could fucking cry. He didn’t realize how much he missed this, how important it was for a person to come in contact with the sunlight. He chokes down the lump in his throat and stands there, following the sun as it moves in the sky, the light coming in at shifting angles and directions. He follows it, stays in the warmth- basking in it for as long as possible until dusk settles and the sky slowly starts to turn pink. 

Joel has his backpack with him. You packed him some food and water, his flashlight. A clean long sleeve shirt in case it got cold. You even threw in some whiskey for him, which he was enjoying sip by sip. 

He pulls his flashlight out and uses it when he goes into an old bookstore. Some shelves are empty; nature guides, atlases, hunting and fishing- basically the entire outdoors section is gone. 

The romance novels are almost bare. 

Who needs those when lil puppy’s got you, right?

There are still self-help books on the shelves, almost untouched and whatever is left looks like it would fall apart in his hands if he tried to touch it. 

Why’s you even in this section?

Joel wanders to the comics and takes a look at whatever is left. Some are in alright condition, wrapped in plastic away from the elements. Some do disintegrate before he can even get them out of their place on the shelf. 

He grabs a Batman comic still in a vinyl sleeve and tosses it in his pack for later. There are tons more strewn all across the floor, some he remembers reading with Tommy as kids. He picks through them, looking for any worth saving and finds two more still in decent condition. 

There are several department and clothing stores that look bare from the outside, but he wanders into one anyway just to see what might have been missed.

There’s an exit to the outside that's been all boarded up, with what looks like every empty clothing rack pushed in front of it. He thinks about moving all those things, breaking through the boards… but where the fuck would he go? Ten feet outside of the mall where the infected were apparently moving through? 

No. 

He’ll stay inside.

He paruses the homegoods section all the way in the back of the second floor and finds a wall of empty shelves except for one. 

It’s filled with books- he reads through the titles: The Beginners Guide to Foraging, An Introduction to Wildlife Rehabilitation, LIVING WITH WILDLIFE- How to Enjoy, Cope with, and Protect North America’s Wild Creatures Around Your Home and Theirs, The Big Book of Skill Makers, The Complete Beginners Guide to Greenhouse Gardening- A Month by Month Planting Book to Grow 365 Days a Year, You Will Find Your People- How To Make Meaningful Friendships as an Adult. There are several Batman comics featuring Harley Quinn and The Joker. 

They all look like they’ve been read thoroughly and many times. 

On the same shelf there is a pink balloon animal made of glass, it has fresh flowers in it, with clean water. It takes him several seconds to realize that it’s supposed to be a bong. For smoking weed. And you’re using it as a vase. 

Joel chuckles to himself and continues to look at the shelf of your important belongings. A couple rocks of different colors, an old makeup compact that has a broken mirror in it. And a small glass picture frame of a family– a mother and a father, a little girl, and a young man but his face has been scratched out beyond recognition. 

On the wall behind the shelf Joel notices lines carved into the wall.

| | | | | | | | | | |

Twelve. Is that how old you were when this all happened? Is that the number of men you did this to before Joel came along? Are you going to add him to this fucking list?

Is that how many months you've been out here?

All of this suddenly feels like someone he can’t see punched Joel directly in the stomach. 

Sad. 

Joel makes his way to a different part of the mall, checking every entrance that he finds along the way and they’re all boarded up better than they were when he used to walk around here before you captured him. He does appreciate the effort you went through to make sure nothing could get in if you weren’t going to give him a weapon, and he couldn’t escape. 

There is an old music and entertainment store where you must get your princess movies and cartoons to watch. He picks through a couple, finding a couple classics that he watched before the outbreak Office Space, Dirty Harry, The Thing, Top Gun. 

He grabs a couple more that he watched as a kid with his dad and grandpa; The Magnificent 7, The Good, The Bad and The Ugly. He grabs the three original Star Wars movies as well– the best ones, the only ones worth watching. The ones that started to come out right before the outbreak– Joel can’t even talk about it. 

He’s done his exploring and now he sits outside of the mattress store waiting for you to wake up and let him back in. As soon as Joel unwraps the sandwich and jerky you made him, that stupid fucking oppossum comes scampering along like this is it’s dinner too. 

“Get the hell outta here,” Joel grumbles, waving his hand in its direction, trying to scare it off– but it persists. 

Inching closer and closer until Joel could kick it if he wanted to. 

Kinda cute in the little collar.

Joel tosses a piece of his sandwich a good distance away and Puddin’ chases after it while Joel digs into his own portion. 

Hours and hours go by, you sleep for so fucking long. He reads all of the comic books that he grabbed and even goes back to the bookstore to look for more. He finds nothing else that interests him so he goes to your bookshelf in the department store and grabs a couple from there to look at. 

He’s flipping through the skill maker book when you finally wake up and open the grate. 

Joel scrambles to his feet, watching as you rub your eyes with your one free hand, the other still has the remote tapped to your palm. 

The two of you stare at each other for several silent moments before you notice the book in his hand. 

“Just put it back where ya’ found it when you’re done with it, ‘kay?” Your voice is deep and filled with sleep. 

Joel nods his head, and puts the book in his backpack. “Yeah, sure– hey where did all the infected go?” He questions as you toss your own pack over your shoulder and head in the direction of the food court. 

“Cleared ‘em out the other day.”

“How the hell did you do that? When? After we–”

“Yup.” You cut him off with a sharp, short response. “Wasn’t that many. Kinda easy when you get high ground on ‘em.” 

Joel eyes dart up to the rafters and wonders how good you are with a bow and arrow. He knows Ellie is a great shot, loves her bow and arrow. “And you moved ‘em all out on your own?” 

“Yup.” 

“How did you even get out of the bathroom?” Joel’s been wondering that this whole time. 

You walked into the bathroom, slammed the door and the next time he saw you was coming down the stairs to the basement. 

He wonders if you’re even real. 

Ohh our lil puppy is real alright.

If you knew that Mister-J was going to ask all of these questions you might not have ever taken the duct tape off. 

Where did the infected go? What if more get in? How did you get out of the bathroom? Where are you going now? When will you be back? Are you okay? Are you mad? What’s wrong? Why aren’t you answering me? 

He’s so nosy! Asking more questions than any of the other guys combined. 

Why does he even care? 

Shhhhh, this is what makin’ friends is, Sweetheart. 

“Used the vents to get out of the bathroom,” you sigh, not stopping or slowing down but Joel keeps up anyway, his arm brushing yours as he walks alongside you.

“What about the infected– you know the spores–” 

“I burn ‘em outside at night when it’s real dark–” you explain to him quickly. “I ain’t stupid. I know ‘bout the spores. I know how the fungus works. I paid attention,” you huff softly as you reach the ladder that takes you up into the rafters and eventually out onto the roof.

Mister is too big, and probably too clumsy to follow you up here. 

“M’just goin’ to get some more food… I’ll be right back– couple of minutes, okay?”

Mister looks relieved when you say this, his face relaxes and he sighs softly. “Okay, just be careful.” 

— -- --- ---

“Is that my shirt?” He asks about the green and red flannel you have on when you come out of the women’s restroom in the food court. Your hair is clean, your body feels refreshed after taking a shower. 

Mister looks good too with his hair slicked back, and his beard trimmed neatly. 

You nod, not taking your eyes off of him. It’s almost impossible when he looks like a brand new man- handsome. He looks like he’s lost weight since he’s been here with you. 

You’ll fix that. He needs to eat more than you, and he wants meat so… you’ll go get it for him. Real meat this time, even if it makes you sad how you have to get it.

“Yeah, I took it ‘cause it smelled like you.” You admit with no shame. That’s exactly why you took it. So you could sleep with it so he could warm up to his new house, with his new friend. 

Mister-J chuckles, and shakes his head at you with a smirk plastered across his face. “Someone told me I stink once,” he says through his laughter. 

This makes you smile because he’s happy. He looks happy, like he doesn’t mind talking to you, he’s not saying mean things. He’s sharing. 

Told ya’ he’d get comfortable. Just had to be patient. We figured it all out eventually. 

“You do stink sometimes, but you smell real, so I don’t mind.” You share with him as you lead him back to the mattress store. He carried the TV up earlier and said he found a couple movies he wanted to watch. They don’t really look like movies you want to watch, but you’ll give them a shot.

Anything for Mister-Joel, perfect, sweet man. 

It doesn’t make this easier. Mister wants to sleep in the bed next to you, said he wanted to warm you up, but now you’re next to him again and it feels like you could burst into flames and tears all at the same time. 

“What’s your name?” He whispers into your ear, his arms wrapped around your waist, holding onto you tightly from behind. 

“Why?” The sirens go off inside your head. No one’s asked you that in so long, it makes your stomach flip and you feel like you could be sick. 

“Told’ya mine,” He murmurs into your hair. 

Joel. 

When you go to answer, the words don’t come because the memories are gone. You can see your mom and dad talking to you inside your head but their voices are on mute. The name never leaves their mouth.  “I don’t remember…”

OFC thank you @pedrospookie for making this cutie banner and letting me scream at about all of this!!

I need to give an extra special shout-out to the couple of other people I screamed at about this. @almostempty @gothcsz( your music recs inspired me) and thanks to @probablyreadinsmut and my unnamed friend who helped me with the TW of the chapter.

I was especially nervous to post this because I didn't want to ruin anyone's day or send anyone into their own spiral. I hope you all are OK!

thank you to everyone who has been reading!! I've never gotten such incredible feedback on a fic before and you are all so nice and make writing this story that much more fun. I LOVE YOU

TAG LIST: @pedrospookie @gothcsz @joelmillerisapunk @sp00kymulderr @paleidiot @goodvampykitten @rosebuds-and-moonlight @diabaroxa @zhazy-blog2 @almostempty @xdaddysprincessxx @tobethlehem @lilac-boo @xkyxkyxxlylcylulucuflfluclu @rav3n-pascal22 @baronessvonglitter @joelmillerisapunk @syd-djarin @probablyreadinsmut @itwasntimethatdidit40 @letsgobarbs @lovehappyloki @joelalorian @pedrostories @evolnoomym @valkyreally @youdontknowe @corazondebeskar-reads @pastelpinkflowerlife @tobethlehem

please don't hate me if I forgot you, I have a hamster brain, ok?

[gullemec]

Dead Weight

Bitten - Part III

Bitten Masterlist ao3

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: You and Joel try to navigate this bizarre, new reality you've found yourselves in. But as physical wounds heal, emotional ones begin to fester.

Warnings: canon-typical violence, gun use, description of injuries, misogyny (not from Joel), alcohol use, description of infected, death/dying, blood, loooots of angst!

Please let me know if I missed any TWs <3

WC: 7.7k

A/N: Thank you so much to everyone who had kind words to say about this series so far. I'm so excited with where it's going and can't wait to share the next few chapters I have brewing!!

You sleep later than usual, the sun already halfway to its arc in the sky by the time you rouse. 

The cabin’s heavy curtains have cocooned you in a comforting darkness, granting you a rare reprieve from the searing brightness of the open wilderness you’re used to. A luxury, in theory. But it doesn’t feel like one now.

The cool, shaded quiet is suddenly suffocating when you poke your head out of the sleeping bag and find the cabin empty. For a sharp, panicked moment, your heart lurches. Joel has left you behind. Your chest tightens, breath catching in your throat as your eyes dart around the small space, desperate for proof otherwise. 

And there it is, his sleeping bag, neatly rolled and tucked into a corner. His pack, leaned against the far wall. Evidence of his lingering presence. Relief comes reluctantly, settling in like a stone in your stomach rather than lifting the weight off your chest. He hasn’t abandoned you, not yet. But the thought doesn’t soothe the way it should.

Instead, a gnawing guilt sinks in, colder than the morning air. You slept in. You wasted time. You were dead weight, a burden. Again.

You groan softly as you push yourself upright, the movement tugging painfully at your side. The stitches pull against the swollen flesh, a sharp reminder of yesterday’s outburst. You’d let anger and frustration bubble over, and now you’re paying the price, your body punishing you for every impulsive word and motion. Hobbling toward the small bathroom, you peel your shirt up gingerly, half-afraid of what you’ll see.

In the harsh light, the wound stares back at you, a gnarled mix of swollen purple and fading red. The worst of it, the undeniable imprint of the stalker’s teeth, is etched just above your hip bone, deep and accusing. Beside it, a smaller bite mark rests in its shadow, and yet it’s no less damning. Both are framed by long, jagged slashes left by its claws, torn through your flesh in its frantic quest to tear you apart.

But it’s not the bites or the gashes that make your breath catch in your throat. It’s the tendrils. Thin, branching marks radiate outward from the largest bite like delicate, spindly roots spreading beneath your skin. You’ve seen them before, on others, in the terrifying hours after they were bitten. Only theirs were red and angry, pulsating with infection, spreading death with every heartbeat. Yours, though… yours are different. Faint. Dormant. They just stop, like a vine that’s failed to grow. They don’t crawl toward your chest or creep into your brain. They just… sit there, frozen in time.

You can only look for so long before your stomach churns and your chest tightens again, a faint buzzing overtaking your ears. You grip the edge of the sink, squeezing your eyes shut as nausea wells up.

Forcing yourself to breathe through the panic, you focus on the facts. There’s no pus. No new bleeding. No spreading infection. These are the things you cling to, the only threads of logic in the mess that’s become your life. You try to convince yourself that these signs are good, even as the sight of the tendrils lingers in your mind, impossible to forget.

What are you?

Why are you still here?

Straightening up, you turn away from the mirror and tug your shirt back down, fingers trembling slightly. You need to move. You can’t afford to let your mind spiral any further. Whatever this is, whatever you are, it doesn’t matter right now.

Joel hasn’t abandoned you, and you’re still alive. For now, that will have to be enough.

You sling your pack over one shoulder and step out into the morning light, the chill of late fall biting at your exposed skin. The cabin is quiet, Joel nowhere to be seen, not chopping wood by the side of the building, not fishing down at the river. You stand there for a moment, scanning the small clearing for any sign of him. His absence twists at your gut, equal parts unease and irritation. You tell yourself you’re better off not facing him just yet, not with everything that happened yesterday still fresh and raw, but the silence gnaws at you nonetheless.

With nowhere else to go, you meander down the narrow trail that leads to the river, your boots crunching softly against frost-laden grass. The sound of rushing water grows faintly louder as you approach, but it’s a far cry from the thunderous roar you’d heard days ago. The river has calmed, its waters now a subdued flow that no longer crashes violently against the rocks. It’s shrunken in size too, exposing wide, rocky banks on either side.

You exhale, relieved. You don’t need another reminder of what happened. You have plenty of those already.

The water glimmers under the pale sunlight, inviting in its stillness. Bracing against the chill in the air, you set your pack down on a dry patch of rocks and strip down to your underwear. The bite of the breeze sends a shiver racing up your spine, and you hesitate for a moment, arms wrapped around yourself. It’s been days since you’ve had the chance to properly wash, and you can’t stand the feeling of grime clinging to your skin any longer. Still, it takes effort to will yourself forward, the cold air already sapping your resolve.

You step gingerly into the river, your toes curling against the slick, icy rocks beneath the surface. The shock of the cold water is immediate, seeping into your skin and pulling a sharp gasp from your lungs. You clench your jaw and keep going, one unsteady step at a time, as the water rises higher up your legs.

The riverbed is treacherous. Smooth stones shift under your weight, and the mud beneath them sucks at your feet. Your balance wavers, arms flailing slightly as you try to stay upright. Then your foot sinks deeper into the riverbed than you anticipated, throwing you off-kilter. You overcorrect, trying to stop yourself from falling sideways, but it’s too much.

Your knees hit the riverbed with a sharp, jarring impact, the bite of tiny, pinprick rocks breaking through your skin. Pain shoots up your legs and lances through your side where your stitches pull painfully taut. You stifle a shout, hissing sharply through clenched teeth as your palms slap against the water to steady yourself. The cold water rushes over your thighs and knees, soothing the sting almost immediately, but the ache remains, deep and persistent.

For a moment, you stay there, crouched in the water, the pain in your knees and side a dull throb that refuses to ebb. The river flows around you, indifferent, its quiet current a stark contrast to the chaos in your body and mind.

You tilt your head back, closing your eyes, and take a shaky breath. This wasn’t supposed to be this hard. Even the smallest things, washing off dirt, finding balance, have become impossible challenges, each stumble and misstep a cruel reminder of your limitations. Of what you’ve become.

When you open your eyes again, your gaze falls to the water, clear enough to see your distorted reflection staring back at you. The tendrils of the bite peek out above the waistband of your underwear. Stretching up your side, loud and unavoidable.

Your hand darts out, all frustration and anger, splashing the image away.

You push yourself up, ignoring the sting in your knees and the sharp pull in your side. You’re tired of feeling weak, of feeling inhuman. Gritting your teeth, you straighten your back and wade deeper into the river, determined to scrub away the grime of the last few days, no matter the cost.

Because if nothing else, you need this. A moment of clarity, a moment of control. Even if it comes at the cost of blood and bruises, it’s the only thing keeping you tethered to yourself in a world that feels increasingly unfamiliar.

The past few days have been a harsh lesson in checking your pride and sense of self. You've always been ruthless. Had to be, really. Merciless, some might even say. You made quick work of raiders and infected alike, never hesitating or showing remorse. You couldn’t afford to. Not in this world. Weakness means death here.

That, if you had to guess, was what first drew you and Joel together.

…

Disposal duty was where it began. Burning the corpses of infected and the unclaimed dead was the kind of work that stripped you raw. It was thankless and brutal, but necessary. It offered little dignity for the living or the dead. The stench of charred flesh clung to everything, your skin, your clothes, even the air you breathed. Still, you took the job because you had to. It was the only way to prove yourself in the Boston QZ, where your age and gender already painted a target on your back among the men who sneered at you, labeling you as dead weight from the moment you arrived.

You knew the drill. From your time in other QZs, you'd learned that no one handed out respect for free, you had to earn it. You worked with a single-minded determination, dragging shrouded forms across the yard, tossing them into the roaring flames without flinching. The oppressive heat, the smoke that stung your eyes, the silent weight of knowing these bodies had once been people, none of it stopped you. It couldn’t. You wouldn’t let it.

It was on your first day that Joel had approached you.

You were on your knees, sweat streaking soot down your face as you wrapped your arms around a shrouded figure, the fabric clinging to it in the damp heat. When the shadow of a man fell over you, you glanced up, squinting against the sun. Joel stood there, tall and imposing, his face half-covered with a bandana. His eyes were hard to read, but they were focused on you. For a moment, you thought he might be there to chastise you, to tell you to hurry up or that you were doing it wrong.

“Here, let me,” he said, voice low and gravelly.

At first, you thought it was a joke. A cruel one. Like a manifestation of every insecurity gnawing at you had stepped out of the shadows to taunt you.

“I’ve got it,” you snapped, your voice sharp enough to cut through the haze of smoke. You shot him a glare before heaving the body into your arms, your knees wobbling as you carried it to the pyre. When you tossed it in and turned back, you didn’t expect him to still be there, watching. His face was half-hidden, but his eyes crinkled slightly at the edges, and you could’ve sworn he was grinning beneath the bandana.

See? your glare seemed to say.

After that day, you noticed him watching you. Not constantly, but enough for you to feel the weight of his gaze. His expression was unreadable, and it irritated you. He didn’t offer help again, nor did he criticize. He just… observed. There was something steadying about it, though. It felt like a silent acknowledgment, like he saw what you were doing even when no one else did.

And the others certainly didn’t. They grumbled and slacked off, complaining about the smell, the heat, the weight of the bodies. They cut corners, dumped bodies improperly, and blamed anyone but themselves when caught. 

But not you. 

You worked harder than all of them combined, and Joel noticed. Even if he didn’t say anything, you could feel it in the way his eyes lingered on you.

This silent routine went on for weeks, the two of you bound together by the grim necessity of disposal duty. The stench of burning flesh worked its way into your hair, your skin, your soul. Every night you scrubbed yourself raw, trying to wash it away, but the smoke still lingered in your nostrils when you lay down to sleep.

And Joel Miller kept watching.

He wasn’t the only person who noticed you, though.

Your shift had been wrapping up, bringing a line of tired, soot-covered workers waiting for their ration cards. The stench of burnt flesh lingered on everyone’s clothes, mingling with sweat and exhaustion. Joel stood a few places behind you in the line, arms crossed and gaze distant, the hard mask of indifference firmly in place.

When your name was called, you stepped forward, wiping your hands on your pants before taking the cards from the FEDRA soldier. You’d stepped off to the side to count your cards when an agitating, grating voice sounded.

"What the hell is this?" the man behind you in line barked, stepping out of line. 

Greg. He was broad-shouldered and quick-tempered, the kind of guy who was used to throwing his weight around. He jabbed a finger toward you. "Why’s she getting more than the rest of us?"

The FEDRA soldier barely glanced up from his clipboard. "Rations are allotted based on work completed. She did more than you."

Greg’s face darkened, a vein twitching in his temple. "Bullshit. She didn’t do more. She’s just—" He sneered, looking you up and down. "She’s just spreading her legs for you guys, huh? That’s how it works?"

A beat of silence. The line shifted uncomfortably. In your periphery you saw Joel’s jaw tighten, and his gaze snap to you.

You knew you should ignore him, should just keep your head down and be on your way and stay out of trouble. Greg wasn’t the first insecure asshole to be sore about a woman able to outperform him, and he certainly wouldn’t be the last. And maybe it was the way your back twinged with pain or the way his whiny voice hit your ear, but there was something in your veins that day that emboldened you.

"You wanna say that again?" you said, your voice low and cold. You stepped toward him, not backing down an inch.

Greg’s bravado faltered for a second, but he doubled down.  “I said you didn’t earn those cards. You’re just—”

“Just what?” you cut in sharply. “Say it. Go ahead.”

“You’re just some weak little—”

“Right,” you interrupted, stepping toward him. Your eyes locked on his, unyielding. “Because dragging bodies all day, breathing in smoke and rotting fucking flesh, that’s not real work, right? Maybe if you spent half as much time working as you do whining, you’d have enough rations to shut your damn mouth.”

His face flushed red with anger. "Watch it, bitch," he snapped, stepping closer, looming over you.

Joel’s fingers flexed at his sides, ready to step in, but he didn’t move just yet. He watched, measuring the tension like a coiled spring.

You didn’t flinch. Instead, you tilted your head, a sharp, defiant smile playing on your lips. "What are you gonna do? Hit me? Prove to everyone here that you’re not just lazy but pathetic, too?"

Greg’s hands balled into fists, but he hesitated. The rest of the line was watching now, and the FEDRA soldier shifted uneasily, hand drifting toward his weapon.

Joel stepped forward then, slow and deliberate, his presence a looming shadow. "That’s enough," he said, his voice calm but cutting through the tension like a knife. He didn’t look at you, his eyes locked on Greg. "Go back to your spot."

Greg muttered something under his breath but didn't push it further. He spat at the ground near your feet before turning back to the line.

Joel joined you on the walk back to your housing block wordlessly, the journey heavy with silence. He kept pace with you, not saying anything. The sun was sinking, casting an orange haze over the crumbling streets of the QZ when you finally broke the silence.

"You didn’t have to do that," you said finally, breaking the quiet.

"Do what?"

"Step in. I had it handled."

Joel glanced at you, his expression unreadable. "Yeah, I know you did."

You blinked, surprised. "Then why—"

"Because he wasn’t gonna back down," Joel interrupted. "Not until someone reminded him to."

You scoffed. "Well, thanks, I guess."

Joel didn’t respond right away. You walked another block in silence before he spoke again. "You drink?"

You raised an eyebrow, caught off guard. "What?"

Joel shrugged, looking straight ahead. "Got a bottle of whiskey back at my place. Thought you might want to share it."

You studied him, trying to read his intentions, but his face gave nothing away. Still, there’s something about the offer that felt… genuine. You hesitated for only a moment before nodding. "Okay. Sure."

When you reached his apartment, Joel opened the door and gestured you inside. The space was sparse but clean, a stark contrast to the chaos outside. He poured two glasses of amber liquid, handing one to you without ceremony.

"To your first fight on the job," he said, raising his glass.

You smirked, clinking yours against his. "And to shutting up assholes."

Joel chuckled, a sound you hadn't heard from him before. It was quiet and fleeting, but it lingered in the air between you.

That night, you talked, just enough to lay the groundwork for something more. Joel didn’t pry, but he listened, and you found yourself sharing more than you expected. When you left, there was a strange sense of understanding between you, a fragile but undeniable connection.

…

“The hell are you doin’?” 

Joel’s voice cuts through your daydream, sharp and gravelly, pulling you out of your fragile reprieve. Your eyelids flutter open, squinting against the golden light of the dying sun as it bounces off the river’s surface.

You’re floating on your back, bobbing gently in the cool, weightless embrace of the water. For a few blissful moments, the world had felt still. The ache in your side had dulled, the constant churn of worry in your mind had quieted, and for just a little while, you’d found a truce with the chaos of your life.

But Joel’s presence shatters that peace.

He stands at the river’s edge, rifle slung over his shoulder, his face shadowed in the fading light but unmistakably irritated. His shoulders are tense, his stance rigid, and his eyes, dark and piercing, are locked on you.

You scramble upright, your feet slipping on the uneven, stony riverbed. The sudden movement sends a sharp pang through your side, but you grit your teeth and push through it, water dripping down your skin as you try to compose yourself.

You’re in only your bra and underwear, something Joel’s seen plenty of times before when circumstances demanded it. But now, with the weight of his gaze and the tension crackling between you, you feel uncomfortably exposed. Your arms instinctively cross over your chest, though the water obscures most of your body.

“I was just…” you start, your voice faltering under the intensity of his stare.

“Just what?” he cuts in, his tone clipped. “Floatin’ around, makin’ yourself an easy target?”

The accusation stings, sharp and unexpected. “I wasn’t making myself a target,” you snap, defensiveness flaring.

“No?” He gestures toward the surrounding woods with a sweep of his hand. “’Cause last I checked, the world don’t stop bein’ dangerous just ’cause you’re takin’ a goddamn swim.”

You bristle at his tone, your arms dropping to your sides as irritation rises to meet his. “I wasn’t wandering off or doing anything reckless, Joel. I was right here. You’re acting like I—”

“Like what?” he interrupts, stepping closer. “Like you don’t think? Like you don’t remember what happened last time you went off to the river alone?”

The words hit their mark, dredging up memories you’ve spent the last hour trying to suppress.

You awkwardly trudge out of the water, keeping your eyes down and away from Joel.

“That’s not fair,” you say quietly as you fish your folded clothes from the riverbank, your voice trembling with a mix of anger and hurt. You pull them on quickly, your still wet skin making it uncomfortable and difficult.

“Fair?” He scoffs, his voice rising slightly. “This ain’t about fair. S’about stayin’ alive.”

His words hang in the air, heavy and suffocating. For a moment, neither of you speaks, the murmur of the river filling the silence. Joel’s jaw works like he’s trying to rein himself in, but his frustration simmers just beneath the surface.

“You don’t get it, do you?” he finally says, his voice lower now but no less cutting. “If somethin’ happened to you—” He cuts himself off, dragging a hand down his face, the movement almost weary. “Just… get your ass back to the cabin.”

You nod stiffly, biting back the retort that’s clawing its way up your throat. You trudge past him, water streaming from your clothes and hair, your chest tight with a mix of shame and anger.

When you reach the cabin, you find the deer he hauled back lying in the clearing outside, its lifeless eyes fixed on the sky. Joel follows shortly after, his boots heavy against the wooden steps as he steps onto the porch.

“What’s with the deer?” you ask, your tone sharper than you intended. This is way too much meat for the two of you to preserve for the road, and Joel’s never been the wasteful type.

He doesn’t look at you as he sets his rifle aside and kneels beside the animal, pulling a knife from his belt. “We’re stayin’ put for a while,” he says simply.

You blink, confused. “What?”

“You’re hurt,” he says, his voice matter-of-fact as he begins dressing the deer. “We ain’t goin’ anywhere ’til you’re healed enough to keep movin’.”

“That’s ridiculous,” you say, stepping closer. “We can’t stay here. What are we supposed to do with all this meat? We can’t preserve it. It’s going to spoil—”

“Doesn’t matter,” he cuts in, his tone final. “We’re stayin’.”

His refusal to even entertain your argument ignites a spark of anger in you. “You can’t just decide that without talking to me,” you snap. “I’m not some… some child you can order around.”

Joel looks up at you then, his expression unreadable. “You wanna keep pushin’ yourself? Get us both killed? Fine. But I ain’t movin’ from this spot until you’re good enough to handle the road.”

The words land heavy, each one driving home the gulf that’s grown between you. You want to believe his stubbornness is born out of concern, that his anger is just a mask for something deeper, but it doesn’t feel that way. It feels like disappointment. Like you’ve let him down again.

“Fine,” you say finally, your voice hollow. “Do whatever you want, Joel.”

You turn and head inside, the door creaking shut behind you as you leave him on the porch, alone with the deer and the quiet tension that now fills the air between you.

…

The cabin is quiet, save for the faint crackle of the fire Joel built just before sunset. Shadows from the flames dance along the wooden walls, casting the room in a warm but flickering glow. You sit on the floor by the fire, knees drawn to your chest, staring into the embers as they pulse and fade. Your side aches in dull, persistent waves, but you ignore it. Pain has become a constant companion, like the gnawing hunger or the chill that creeps in when the fire dies down.

Joel is at the table, his back to you, meticulously sharpening his knife. The rhythmic scrape of metal against stone grates on your nerves, though you’d never admit it aloud. You can feel his presence like a weight in the room, heavy and unyielding. He hasn’t said much since he came back from dressing the deer, and you haven’t tried to start a conversation. The distance between you feels insurmountable tonight, a chasm neither of you seems willing, or able, to cross.

You watch him out of the corner of your eye as he works, his movements precise and methodical. He’s always like this, all focus and discipline, as if distraction might kill him. Maybe it will. He pauses for a moment, tilting the blade toward the light to inspect his work. His eyes catch yours for a split second, and you look away, heat creeping up your neck.

An hour later the cabin is filled with the warm scent of cooked meat.

“Food’s ready,” he says finally, his voice gruff but quiet.

You glance toward the counter where a modest meal of roasted venison sits, steam rising from the plates. Your stomach twists, both from hunger and something else you can’t name. You push yourself up, careful not to strain your stitches, and join him at the table.

Joel slides a plate toward you without meeting your eyes. You mumble a thanks and pick up the fork, the first bite dissolving on your tongue with a flavor you haven’t tasted in weeks. It should feel like a luxury, but it doesn’t.

The silence stretches between you, thick and uncomfortable. You want to say something, anything, but the words won’t come. What is there to say, anyway? You’re here because you need to heal, and Joel’s here because… Well, you don’t know why. Because he feels obligated? Because he pities you? The thought makes your chest tighten, and you shove another bite of venison into your mouth to distract yourself.

“You’re gonna need more protein if you wanna heal up properly,” Joel says after a while, his tone flat but not unkind.

You glance at him, startled that he’s spoken at all. “I’m eating, aren’t I?” you reply, sharper than you intended.

He looks at you then, really looks at you, his brow furrowing like he’s weighing whether to press the issue. He doesn’t. Instead, he leans back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest.

“You scared me today,” he says abruptly.

You blink, caught off guard. “What?”

“At the river,” he clarifies, his gaze dropping to the table. “Could’ve hurt yourself. Could’ve drowned.”

You bristle, the defensive wall coming up before you can stop it. “I’m not a kid, Joel. I can handle myself.”

His eyes snap back to yours, hard and unyielding. “That what you call it? Floatin’ around like you didn’t have a care in the world? We’re in the middle of goddamn nowhere, and you think it’s a good idea to let your guard down?”

Your jaw tightens, heat flooding your face. “I wasn’t letting my guard down,” you bite out. “I just needed—” You cut yourself off, unsure how to finish the sentence. Needed what? A moment of peace? A break from the constant weight of survival? A moment where you didn’t feel like an enormous burden on him? 

He wouldn’t understand.

Joel exhales sharply, shaking his head. “Doesn’t matter what you needed. It’s not safe out there, and you know it.”

There’s something in his voice that gives you pause, not anger, exactly, but something close to it. Frustration, maybe. Worry. You want to believe it’s the latter, but your mind twists it into something darker, something uglier.

“Right,” you say bitterly, pushing your plate away. “I forgot. I’m just another thing for you to worry about, aren’t I? Another burden.”

Joel’s face hardens, but there’s a flicker of something in his eyes, guilt, maybe, or regret. “That’s not what I meant.”

“Sure it isn’t,” you snap, pushing back your chair and standing, the ache in your side flaring as you do. You don’t care. The urge to put distance between you and him is stronger than the pain. “Thanks for dinner,” you mutter, already walking toward your bedroll by the fire.

Joel doesn’t stop you. He just sits there, watching as you settle onto the floor and turn your back to him. The weight of his gaze is almost unbearable, but you refuse to acknowledge it.

The fire crackles softly, the only sound in the otherwise silent cabin. You stare into the flames, your chest tight and your mind racing. You want to believe that Joel cares, that his harsh words are his way of protecting you, but it’s hard to see it that way when all you can hear is the echo of your own insecurities.

A burden. A liability. A monster.

You close your eyes, willing sleep to take you, but it doesn’t come. Behind you, Joel shifts in his chair, the sound of his boots on the wooden floor breaking the silence. You hear him sigh, low and weary, before the chair creaks as he stands.

The sound of his footsteps fades as he moves toward the door, and then it’s just you and the fire and the distance between you and him that feels larger than ever.

…

The smell hits you first, cloying and putrid, like rotting meat left too long in the sun. It invades your senses, choking you, making it impossible to breathe. Then, a weight against you. Heavy, suffocating, pinning you to the ground.

You don’t know where you are. Somewhere cold and damp, the ground beneath you slick with mud. Your arms are trapped at your sides, your legs kicking uselessly against the crushing force above you.

The creature is on top of you. Its guttural snarls fill the air, hot breath washing over your face. You catch flashes of jagged teeth, glistening with saliva. Its hands, its claws, dig into your shoulders, sharp and unrelenting. Pain radiates through your body, but it’s nothing compared to the icy dread in your chest.

You try to scream, but no sound comes. Your throat burns with the effort, but the silence mocks you, amplifying the creature’s growls and the sickening sound of its teeth snapping inches from your face.

You thrash, your fists pounding against its torso, your legs kicking wildly, but it’s like punching stone. The creature doesn’t budge. Its strength is inhuman, its weight unbearable.

A sharp, searing pain erupts in your side, and you know—it’s over. You’re going to die here. The cold dread settles deep in your gut, heavier than the creature itself. This is it. This is the end.

And then, a voice.

“Get off her!”

Joel.

His voice cuts through the chaos like a blade, sharp and commanding. Hope ignites in your chest, fragile and desperate. You twist your head, straining to see him, and there he is. Joel, standing just a few feet away, rifle raised and steady.

“Joel!” you cry, but your voice still doesn’t come. Your lips move, but the words are swallowed by the oppressive silence.

Joel doesn’t hear you. He doesn’t need to. He steps closer, his jaw set, his eyes locked on the creature.

The weight on your chest shifts as the creature rears back, turning its attention to Joel. Relief floods through you, your lungs filling with air for the first time in what feels like forever. He’s here. He’ll save you. He always does.

But then you see it.

The creature’s face.

Your face.

It stares back at you with hollow, lifeless eyes, its features twisted into something grotesque and unrecognizable. Its mouth stretches into a snarl, blood staining its lips. Your lips.

“No,” you whisper, the sound finally breaking free. “No, no, no…”

But it’s too late.

The creature lunges at Joel, faster than you thought possible. He fires a shot, but it goes wide. The rifle falls from his hands as the creature slams into him, knocking him to the ground.

“Joel!”

You try to move, try to scream, try to do something, anything, but your body is frozen, paralyzed by fear and horror. You watch, helpless, as the creature—you—tears into him.

His screams echo in your ears, raw and agonized. Blood sprays across the ground, pooling beneath him, soaking into the dirt. You want to look away, but you can’t.

It doesn’t stop. The creature doesn’t stop. You don’t stop.

And then, silence.

Joel lies still, his lifeless eyes staring up at the sky. The creature, your monstrous reflection. turns back to you, blood dripping from its mouth. It smiles, a twisted, mocking grin that makes your stomach churn.

“You did this,” it says, its voice your own.

The weight returns, crushing you, suffocating you. You close your eyes, tears streaming down your face, but the image is burned into your mind. Joel, broken and bloodied. The monster, wearing your face.

“You did this,” it repeats, the words echoing in your head as the darkness swallows you whole.

…

No! No, stop, stop it!

Your voice tears from your throat, raw and jagged, as you writhe against the suffocating force pinning you down. You thrash and kick, your limbs flailing against an enemy you can’t see, can’t fight. The darkness is everywhere, thick, heavy, alive, pressing against your chest like a vise. Your screams are hoarse, broken, a desperate attempt to claw your way back to something, anything.

“Hey, hey. Shh. Calm down.”

The voice cuts through the chaos like a lifeline. It’s soft, steady, familiar in a way that tugs at your frayed edges. It isn’t your voice, not the guttural growl of the monster.

“You’re okay. You gotta calm down.”

Joel.

The name lodges in your mind, a single point of clarity amidst the storm. His voice, low and warm, anchors you. It’s not commanding, not sharp like it has been. It’s patient, soothing. Like he’s speaking to a wounded animal, coaxing it away from the edge of its terror.

The darkness loosens its grip, receding inch by inch, until the oppressive weight begins to dissolve. It’s still there, a shadow lingering at the edges of your consciousness, but it no longer suffocates.

The weight pressing against you shifts, no longer a force of dread but something solid, grounding. Arms wrap around you, holding you firm but gentle. The realization dawns on you slowly. Joel is holding you. His hands rub slow, deliberate circles on your back, the friction warm against your shivering body.

Your breathing is a wrecked staccato, each inhale catching in your throat, each exhale trembling with the effort. The screams that had ripped from your throat moments ago fade into croaking sobs, quiet but broken.

“That’s it,” Joel murmurs, his breath warm against your hair. “Just breathe.”

You try. The air is thin and sharp, your chest heaving as you attempt to match the slow rhythm of his breathing. His grip tightens slightly as if to remind you he’s there, that he isn’t letting go.

Your limbs feel like water, drained of strength, the fight bled out of you. Slowly, hesitantly, you relax into him. Your forehead drops against his chest, and you feel the steady rise and fall of his breathing, a quiet metronome against the chaos still echoing in your mind.

The moment feels fragile, like glass balanced on a ledge, and you don’t dare shatter it. The warmth of his body seeps into your chilled skin, grounding you further. You’re acutely aware of the wetness on your cheeks, the way your tears have soaked into his shirt, but you don’t pull away. Not yet.

“You’re okay,” Joel says again, his voice barely above a whisper. His hand moves from your back to your hair, his fingers combing through it in a motion so tender it brings fresh tears to your eyes.

You stay like that, cradled in his arms, the silence between you heavy but not uncomfortable. Your mind is too fragile to process anything beyond the immediate sensation of his presence, the way he steadies you without asking for anything in return.

You want to say something, anything, but the words won’t come. You can’t look at him, not yet. The vulnerability feels too raw, too exposed, and you’re not ready to face the look in his eyes, whatever it might be.

The moment lingers, stretching out like an unbroken thread. For now, you let him hold you, let him be the solid presence you so desperately need, even if you don’t feel like you deserve it.

Joel doesn’t let go, not even when your sobs quiet to faint hiccups, not even when the cabin settles into silence, save for the faint crackling of the embers in the fireplace. The warmth of his chest against your cheek is steady, anchoring, as you feel the weight of reality creeping back in.

You shift slightly, your body sore and stiff from the strain of the nightmare. The movement causes his hand to still in your hair. Slowly, as though giving you the chance to pull away if you wanted, he loosens his grip.

“You back with me?” he asks, voice low, barely above a murmur.

You nod, though you still can’t bring yourself to meet his eyes. “Yeah.” Your voice is a rasp, hoarse from screaming.

He lets out a long, heavy breath, like he’s been holding it this entire time. His hands fall to his sides, the absence of his tough leaving you cold and untethered.

“I didn’t mean to…” you start, but the words die on your tongue.

“To what?” Joel’s voice is calm, but there’s something underneath it, something guarded.

“To wake you. To… be like this.” You gesture vaguely to yourself, your chest tightening with shame. “I didn’t mean to—”

“Stop.” The word is firm, cutting through your shame like a blade.

Your eyes snap up to his, and the weight of his gaze pins you in place. His expression is unreadable, a mix of exhaustion, weariness, concern, and something else, something softer, something that tightens the knot in your gut.

“I was getting attacked,” you say, the words slipping out in a barely audible whisper. “And then it—it hurt you, too.”

Joel stiffens slightly, the tension in his frame palpable, but he doesn’t pull away.

“And it…” You stop yourself, the words dying on your tongue. What are you going to say? That you stood there, frozen, as a creature wearing your face tore into him? That it felt more real than the moment you share with him now? 

He doesn’t need another reason not to trust you, not right now.

“You don’t have to apologize,” he says, his tone quieter now.

The sincerity in his words makes your throat tighten. You want to believe him, want to let those words sink into the cracks and empty spaces inside you, but the voice in your mind, the one that whispered to you in the dream, won’t let you.

“Joel…” you say, his name slipping from your lips like a plea, though you don’t know what you’re asking for.

He shakes his head, cutting you off before you can spiral further. His gaze falters, and he rubs a hand over his face, like he’s trying to scrub away the weight of his own exhaustion. When he looks back at you, his eyes are heavy with something raw and unspoken.

“You scared the hell outta me,” he admits, the words gruff but quiet.

The admission hangs in the air between you, and for a moment, you don’t know how to respond. “It was just a dream,” you say finally, though the words feel hollow even as you speak them.

Joel shakes his head again, his jaw tightening. “Sure as hell didn’t sound like just a dream.” His voice dips lower, quieter. “Sounded like…” He trails off, his fingers curling into fists on his knees. “You sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine,” you say quickly, the lie automatic and instinctual.

Joel’s eyes narrow slightly, the weight of his gaze heavy with doubt. For a moment, you think he’s going to call you on it. But then he leans back, putting just enough distance between you to make the air colder.

“You’re not fine,” he says simply, matter-of-fact. “You don’t gotta be fine all the time.”

The words hit you hard, a lump forming in your throat. You want to tell him that you can’t afford to not be fine, that any weakness could be the difference between survival and death. But you don’t.

Instead, you swallow the lump in your throat and look away, your gaze falling to the flickering embers in the fireplace. “I’m not used to this,” you admit quietly.

Joel doesn’t answer right away, and the silence stretches out long enough that you begin to think he won’t respond at all. But then his voice comes, softer than before. “Used to what?”

“To… someone being there,” you say, the words feeling foreign and awkward, like they don’t quite belong to you.

His gaze lingers on you, and though you can’t bring yourself to meet it, you feel the weight of it, heavy and unwavering. Finally, he nods, like he understands, though he doesn’t say anything more.

“Get some rest,” he says after a moment, his tone gruff but not unkind. “You need it if you’re gonna heal.”

He rises to his feet, and for a fleeting second, you’re tempted to reach out, to ask him to stay. But the words catch in your throat, and you let him go, watching as he moves to the front door of the cabin and settles down on his bedroll.

The silence that follows is thick, but bearable. You lie back down, your eyes fixed on the ceiling, the ghost of Joel’s touch still lingering on your skin. The nightmare clings to the edges of your mind like a shadow, but the memory of his voice, steady and grounding, drowns it out.

You close your eyes and pray, to whoever might be listening, that when sleep comes, it will be kinder this time.

… 

You wake before Joel does, this time from a blessedly dreamless sleep. The room is quiet, save for the faint rustle of wind through the cracks in the cabin walls and the steady rhythm of his breathing.

He’s still where he was last night, propped up against the door, his rifle balanced across his lap, a silent sentinel even in rest. Your protector. Your watchman. The one who bears the weight of both your lives without complaint.

Well, mostly without complaint.

The pale light of early morning softens the hard edges of his face, painting him in cool hues. His brow, so often furrowed in worry or concentration, is smooth now, the tension melted away. His lips, perpetually set in a grim line, part slightly with each quiet breath. He looks younger like this. Peaceful, even. Human.

It strikes you how rare it is to see him like this. The apocalypse doesn’t leave much room for softness or vulnerability, and Joel wears his armor well. But now, in this fleeting moment, you can see the man beneath the layers of grit and survival.

You realize it’s the first time you’ve had a chance to really look at him since everything happened—since the attack, the bloody fight for your life that left you battered in more ways than one. Since your humanity was tainted and your relationship with Joel was irrevocably changed.

Since you told him.

The memory crawls to the surface unbidden, sharp and vivid, a wound that refuses to scab over. You were convinced you were about to die, that your life was seconds away from being snuffed out like the weak, flickering flame of a candle in a storm. And in those desperate, final moments, the walls you’d so carefully built around yourself came crashing down. You told him the truth.

That you loved him.

Even now, you don’t regret it. Not entirely. If death had come for you that night, at least you’d have gone without the weight of those unsaid words pressing against your chest. It had been a release, a final gasp of truth before the void swallowed you whole.

You can’t blame him for how he reacted, either. You hadn’t expected him to say it back—not then, not like that. Joel Miller wasn’t the kind of man to throw words like love around carelessly, and you wouldn’t have wanted him to. A lie, even one meant to comfort you in your last moments, would have been far crueler than his silence.

No, the regret you carry isn’t in what you said, but in the timing. You wish you’d told him sooner, before everything fell apart, before you became this hollow, fractured version of yourself. Would it have made a difference? If you’d reached out that night he lay beside you, so close you could feel the warmth radiating off his body, would he have taken your hand? Would he have pulled you closer instead of pulling away? Could you have built something out of the wreckage of both your lives?

The thought twists something deep in your chest, a sharp ache that feels dangerously close to hope, a feeling you’ve tried to kill in yourself a hundred times over.

And yet, another thought creeps in, darker and more insidious. Wouldn’t it have been easier for both of you if you’d just died that night?

Joel could have moved on, unburdened by the weight of you. You would have been just another ghost in his long history of losses, another name in a growing list of people he couldn’t save. He would have mourned, maybe—probably—but he’s used to mourning. It’s a rhythm he knows well.

And you… You would have been free. Free from this endless fight for survival, free from the gnawing guilt that eats away at you with every passing day. Free from the crushing weight of being both a danger and a burden to the only person who’s stuck by you.

Maybe there’s an afterlife. You’re not sure if you believe in heaven or any kind of promised land where the dead reunite in peace, but even the void of nothingness seems preferable to this. To waking up every day with the knowledge that your continued existence is a liability, a condemnation for some mortal sin you can’t remember committing.

But you didn’t die.

For some reason, some cruel, inexplicable twist of fate, you lived. Others might call it a miracle, a second chance. But in the harsh light of day, you can see it for what it really is.

A punishment.

You pull the blanket tighter around yourself, your gaze lingering on Joel’s sleeping face. He stirs slightly, a faint crease forming between his brows, and you wonder what he’s dreaming about. You hope it’s something good, something far away from this place and this life.

Because you know the truth.

You’re no miracle. You’re a curse.

Taglist:

@eviispunk

@javierpenaispunk

[pennyold]

behavior | j.m

Summary: a small correction from your best friend's father will help you avoid being a badly behaved girl.

Warnings: plot then filthy shi, public exhibition, flirting, arguing, suggestive language, car sexism, fingering, oral (male receiving), choking, swearing, size kink, and orgasm denial.

w.c: 1,623

a/n: what yall think about this one? I fucking loved it, enjoy it !!

main masterlist ↲

peace and love, penny ★

Tess's phone started ringing in my hands, she was unconscious in front of me; I sat her in a chair, looked at her phone, and the name "dad" glowed on the screen, it stopped ringing and I felt relieved, I wouldn't know what to say about this. He called again, and I started thinking about what to invent in a message, I couldn't let him hear my voice.

"Hi, Dad," minutes later he replied, "Why don't you answer the calls, Tess? Are you still with your friend? Are you okay?" I answered each of his questions, and he responded calmly, his next message left me stunned, "I'll arrive in ten minutes, I can take my friend home. I don't like that place, and especially because you are being alone without someone to accompany you." I bit my lip thinking of a response, I answered and blocked the phone, putting it in my pocket.

Ten minutes later, I was outside the establishment with Tess in my arms. In the distance, I saw her dad's pickup truck, and my heart was pounding; I was very nervous. When he parked in front of us, he got out of the car, almost breathing fire as he walked towards me and Tess. "What the hell were you thinking?" He looked at me, and I just stared at the ground, feeling embarrassed. "Tess drank too much and has thrown up twice," I said. He shook his head and picked up Tess, carrying her to the back seat. "Get in the car. I'll take you home.”

Without saying a word, I got into the truck, buckled my seatbelt, and stayed silent until Joel got into the driver's seat, my skin prickled at the sight of his serious face; he was angry. I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye during the ride, visualizing the scenery through the window when I saw the street of my house. I was about to speak, but I noticed how Joel tightened the steering wheel until his knuckles turned white. I was screwed. 

Finally, I spotted a familiar street; we were near his house. He parked outside the house and unbuckled his seatbelt. "Wait here," he said. I grabbed the edges of my skirt and said, "Okay." He took Tess from the back seat and brought her into the house; it took him a few minutes to return, I watched as he took firm strides, got into the truck, and looked at me, "Are your parents home?" I nodded, "Do your parents know I'm taking you home?" "Yes," he nodded. "Perfect." He started the truck.

During the ride, I noticed that he was dissatisfied and I wanted to apologize; I never meant to bring problems to either Tess or him. "Joel" without looking at me spoke "Yes?" I looked at my skirt, still held in my hands. "Sorry about earlier, I didn't mean to lie to you and cause problems for Tess," he laughed. "I don't have problems with Tess, I do with you." Shit...

I looked out the window before speaking; I was cooked, if I said something wrong, it would be my end. I saw that I was not even remotely close to my home, it looked like a construction site about to be finished. I noticed how he moved the gear shift, and the truck stopped. "Joel..." he looked at me without any expression "You know what it means, darling.” I swallowed hard and quietly opened the door, but I couldn't leave because Joel grabbed it and slammed it shut. "Are you trying to escape from your punishment?" I shook my head in denial and shrank into the tiny space between the door and Joel's body. "So? Where would you go? Here, no one will listen to you, nor will they find you," I looked at him, pleading for mercy. "Don't look at me like that, you brought this on yourself," and he was right, I had done it, and I knew what the consequences would be.

Joel and I had agreed to please each other whenever the opportunity arose, as long as Tess and my parents didn't find out. One day, like today, I went out with Tess and lost her because I was with a guy. Joel showed up and asked me about her, and I didn't know where she was. He got angry just like today, and I got a punishment, painful, but I was very turned on.

I straightened up in my place and accepted my fate, I was being a brat by not accepting the punishment I deserved. "Good girl, always pleasing me," he looked me from head to thighs, as far as he could see. "What panties are you wearing?" "White lingerie," he smiled at me and sat up in his seat. "Take them off." I obeyed and took them off, allowing him a glimpse of my wet pussy. I slid the lingerie down my heels and handed them to him. He took them and tucked them into his pants pocket.

He patted his crotch; he wanted me to sit there, so I did. I felt my pussy brush against his bulge while adjusting myself, and Joel opened my legs, parting the folds of my core. I moaned and rested my head on his shoulder. "Joel," his breath grazed my neck, and I shivered when he brought his mouth close to my ear. "I didn't bring you here to please you, darling, relax." I bit my lip and nodded.

He rubbed my clit, and my legs trembled due to the sensation of his large fingers on my folds. I bit my lip again to avoid letting out a moan, and I felt his middle finger travel to my entrance, stimulating it. I couldn't resist and moaned, writhing in Joel's lap. "Stop moving," he said. I obeyed, and due to the effort, my legs were trembling; I couldn't resist it.

He inserted his finger and pumped my entrance, making me writhe more and my legs contract due to my effort not to move. He pumped his finger quickly, and I felt I was close to cumming, and so was Joel; so he stopped, and I could feel my pussy contract due to the lack of attention, I whimpered. "Joel,” he pulled my hair, making my neck twist back "Please, let me cum” he shook his head, tightening his grip on my hair "Bad girls like you don't deserve to cum" he threw me into the passenger seat and started unbuttoning his pants, I watched each action in detail, waiting for his orders.

He asked me to come closer with his hand, and I did. I leaned towards his pants and saw how he pulled the glans out of his underwear. Joel's cock is huge and thick, with prominent veins and the tip dripping pre-cum. I adjusted myself and Joel grabbed my hair again, guiding my mouth to the tip of his glans. I leaned in and slowly sucked the tip, then pushed it deeper until I couldn't fit it anymore.

"Suck it all,” I tried, but I choked, so I only sucked it as far as I could, Joel, unsatisfied, made me take his entire glans into my mouth, I choked again, and saliva dripped from my mouth, now he was controlling my actions. The tip of his cock hit my throat, and I couldn't take it anymore, a tear fell from my eye, causing me to swallow it with his dick.

I felt his cock start to twitch inside my mouth; he was about to cum, so I sucked it as hard as I could. While he grabbed my hair, making quick movements, he groaned as he felt his arousal approaching. "I'm gonna cum in that pretty mouth, darling, and you're going to swallow it, right?” I moaned, feeling myself choke more and more, feeling his cum spurt down my throat. Joel made me swallow it, keeping his cock in my throat. "Shit, did you swallow it, darling?" I nodded. "Everything?" I nodded again and showed him my tongue. "Good girl," I watched as he adjusted his pants and put on his belt. "Now, I want you to touch yourself until you cum, while I take you home. Could you do that for me?” I nodded and slightly opened my legs, placing my hand on my pussy, and massaging it to stimulating it a bit. "Yes, that's right, don't stop doing it until you cum, baby.”

I rubbed my clit with my arousal, I bit my lip holding a moan; I wasn't satisfied, I wanted Joel's fingers fucking my pussy. "Mmh, I want your fingers, Joel." He shook his head and said, "You don't deserve it. Get yourself off, and I'll see if I can please you next time." I whimpered and proceeded to insert a finger, but it wasn't what I wanted, so I went back to rubbing my clit, trying to reach my climax. "Shit, shit, Joel, I'm gonna cum.” He glanced at me with a smile, "Cum, princess, I want to see that pretty pussy dripping your juices." I opened my mouth, letting out the breath I didn't know I was holding "Oh my... shit!" my pussy started to contract and pulse as I rubbed it gently "That's it, so obedient" I looked ahead and noticed the traffic light was red, I took him by the face and kissed him desperately.

"Still needy? Huh?" I nodded, "Tough luck, princess, now you’ll have to wait, sweetheart. I hope you understood your lesson, I don’t want to be rude, but I won’t respond if you don't behave next time." I grimaced, and apart from him, he was very mean and cruel sometimes.

divider: @/enchanthings-a

[darknight3904]

All Too Well

Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Summary: You reflect on your past with Joel, memories only you know flood your brain at a Fourth of July bash.

Warnings: Langauge, idiots in love.

Word Count: 3.4k

Previous Part / Series Masterlist / Main Masterlist

Brought to you by the songs All Too Well and You Are In Love by Taylor Swift

Summer 2003

Sarah Miller didn't think fate existed. At least a fate that worked out in her favor anyway. For example, if fate was in fact real, why did she end up with homework every night? If fate existed, the purple soccer cleats at the sports store would've been in her size. If fate existed, maybe her mom wouldn't have picked up and left before she was old enough to even sit up.

No, fate was a made-up thing for Sarah. Fate, however, seemed to be turning her lucky eye to her father.

Sarah loved her dad, even if he was a bit of a grump sometimes. As the years passed, she slowly learned how much he sacrificed for her. Between driving her to her soccer games and giving up nights when he could be out with Uncle Tommy at some bar somewhere, Sarah knew he loved her dearly.

She could feel his devotion, anytime she got sick at school, he dropped whatever job he had and ran into the nurse's office, frantically looking for her. Even when he'd been out on a date, and she'd broken an arm on her friend's trampoline, he'd pulled up in his beat-up pickup truck to take her to the emergency room.

Sarah loved her dad, and he loved her, there were no doubts about that.

Loneliness. It was something that she'd felt creeping up on her dad's life. Even if he'd never admit it, Sarah could tell he felt alone sometimes. She couldn't quite put it into words, but she saw it in his eyes.

Fate, however, pulled some strings, and before Sarah knew it, you were in their lives.

You were like a fresh spring breeze, blowing into Sarah and Joel's lives and breathing new life into it. It had been the night after your third date with her dad that she noticed it, the giddiness. Her dad had bounced into her Uncle Tommy's home with a pep in his step that Sarah only saw after a high-paying job was finished and the check was deposited in the bank.

"Think he's got it, baaaad...." Her uncle whispered into her ear

Sarah giggled when her dad's expression fell,

"I heard that, Tommy."

Sarah pretended not to see when her uncle flipped her dad off.

You were more fun than Sarah had expected. Sure you talked and listened to her whenever she recounted her latest soccer match or gossiped about the kids in her grade. But anyone could listen to that.

Sarah had only really met one of her dad's girlfriends before. Her name was Alison, and she smelled like fancy perfume. Alison was fine, a bit boring, and far too into romance movies for Sarah's taste. Things had gone south after Alison suggested a boarding school for Sarah.

Sarah remembered peeking through the crack of her bedroom door as her dad threw Alison, her nice purse, and bright red high heels out of their home. He'd polished it off with a, "Don't ever fucking come back."

You and Alison were complete opposites, though. You baked cookies for her friend's party and pointed at the funny-looking fish at the aquarium, making fun of their stupid eyes. You watched the gory action movies with her and her dad, even convincing her dad that a 1 am Dominos was essential to all movie marathons. And yes, you even talked him into those delicious lava cakes the made. You were simply magical.

When Sarah tried dunking you at the pool, you hadn't shrieked the way Alison did when a drop of water came near her precious hair. Instead, you sent a splash so big that Sarah got water up her nose and had the sting of chlorine in her eyes for 20 minutes after that.

Late one night, Sarah had tiptoed downstairs in search of a big glass of water. She hesitated when she was a few feet from the kitchen archway. Soft murmurs filled her ears, followed by a laugh that was definitely her dad's. She peeked around the corner just a bit, wanting a glimpse of whatever was so funny at 2:46 am.

An opened rub of ice cream sat on the counter, the refrigerator door was hanging open, and a can of whipped cream was halfway pulled from its spot in the door. Most surprising of all, though, was the way her dad, certified grump Joel Miller, was twirling you around, dancing in the kitchen, the two of you bathed in refrigerator light like it was a disco ball.

Sarah had snuck back up the steps, a stupid grin on her face, finally, her dad was finding some happiness in his life.

You had fit so perfectly into her and her dad's life. Fate had smiled on her and her dad for once.

What Sarah couldn't understand, though, was how he let you go. It'd been your birthday. Sarah knew it because she marked it in her school assignment book, she wanted to make you a nice card with the colored pencils you got her two weeks ago. Her dad wasn't letting her go to whatever party was being thrown at your little apartment across town. Sarah had begged, but he put his foot down, and instead, Sarah made him promise you'd get the card.

His truck had started, but it was sitting idle in the driveway. The slam of the driver's door had Sarah rushing away from the window. Maybe he'd forgotten something?

"You're not going?"

"No." He said, plopping down on his bed to pull his shoes off

"But it's her birthday." She tried to reason with him

"I don't belong goin'." He replied

"I thought you were invited..." Sarah said

Joel gave her a funny look that Sarah couldn't quite place.

"I was...I am. Look...." He patted the bedspread, beckoning her over, "Sometimes, adults, we just...we got things that are bigger than just gettin' along and watching movies together at night."

Sarah nodded, she knew that. How many times had she heard her dad stress about taxes and the transmission in his truck? It had to have been countless.

"I just, Look, what I'm sayin' is that I'm not what she needs." He says, his voice blank

"But you two seem so perfect..."Sarah trails off

He gives her a sympathetic look, "We're better off apart, real different in age too, it'd go bad eventually anyway, better to cut it off now before you get too attached."

Sarah scoffs, he was speaking like he wasn't equally as attached to you as she was.

"Yeah, okay....I guess I get it..."

She had asked her uncle about it one warm day in early September, thinking about how you could've been the one picking her up.

"Why'd Dad dump her, though? I just don't get it, they were so good together, always smiling and stuff."

Her Uncle Tommy glanced at her in the rearview mirror, a flash of concern on his features,

"Sarah, your dad...he's one complicated son of a bitch."

Sarah snorts, she knew that. Anyone who ever met Joel Miller knew that.

"But, if you wanna know my two cents, I'd say he was scared."

"Scared?" Sarah balks, her dad wasn't scared of anything, "Of what?"

Tommy's voice is so soft Sarah barely hears it over the idle of his truck's engine.

"Fallin' in love. He's scared of fallin' in love."

Sarah Miller wasn't one to believe in fate, after all, it had been rather unfair to her. She could only hope, though, that one day maybe, just maybe, fate might step in again and bring you and Joel back together.

July 4, 2024

You groan as your eyes flutter open, a loud voice registering in your ears.

"Get up!!!"

Ellie's face looms over yours as she pokes at your cheek. You try to shuffle back under the blankets, but she rips them off you. God, she was so cruel.

"Fuck off." You mumble, you need to sleep. You thought only babies were this needy, yet here was Ellie dragging you out of bed...again.

Last night's overnight patrol had sucked the soul from your body. You loved Tommy, but listening to him talk about Cailey for 8 hours was simply too much for anyone. Honestly, you didn't care whether his kid liked socks or not.

"You told me to get you up at Three Thirty. You said we were gonna make cookies for tonight's Fourth of July party. " Ellie says accusingly

You let Ellie drag you out of Joel's bed and down the steps where Dina stands at the counter, ingredients spread around her.

"Sleeping beauty arises." Ellie jokes, presenting you to her friend

You nudge Dina with your elbow, "Don't laugh at that, she's a brat."

Dina laughs anyway, her gaze fixed on Ellie. Ugh, teenagers...so gross.

You teach the girls how to fold the ingredients into the dough and catch Ellie at least three times trying to steal some of the chunks of chocolate meant for the batter.

"You're really good at this." Ellie notes as you drop the cookies onto a sheet

"Thank you." You smile at her compliment

"How long have you been baking?" Dina asks curiously

"Technically, I probably started with my grandma back when I was three. But I guess I really got into it in my early twenties. I baked a lot with Joel's daughter."

You hand the spoon off to Dina, letting her drop the cookies onto the tray.

You're not quite sure what it is, but your eyes have gone misty. You turn your gaze away from the girls and wipe at your waterline with the sleeves of your shirt. Fuck, you hadn't even said her name and you were tearing up.

The sound of the front door opening as you all turn. Joel comes in, wiping at the sweat on his brow.

"How'd it go?" Ellie asks

"Good. Fixed the door to the school and a couple of the wobbly desks for the kindergartners." Joel says, giving the report like the three women in front of him were his supervisors on some big fancy construction project.

You give him a weak smile as he turns to look at you.

"What's wrong?"

He's instantly in front of you, dropping his tool bag to wipe away a tear you didn't realize had escaped.

"Nothing. I'm just being stupid." You sniffle, "We were talking, and I brought up Sarah...my stupid waterworks didn't get the memo that there'd be no crying today, though."

Joel's mouth has set in a hardline, you've touched a subject he hated talking about. He steps back from you, his hands letting your face go, leaving the skin he'd touched burning from some feeling you couldn't quite coin.

His eyes are distant now as he backs away, reaching for his tool bag, "Gonna go put these away in the garage."

You fidget in front of the mirror in Ellie's room. A cute white summer dress sits on your body. It's one that Maria brought you, knowing that you'd love the way it fell to your ankles, hiding the ugly scars on your legs. The issue was the way your bare arms poked out, pink lines of ugly scar tissue lined them, making the dress look horrible.

A soft knock at the door sounds, and you slip your bathrobe back on just as Ellie enters, her hair dripping water onto the faded hardwood floors. Her eyes scan your attire, a fuzzy blue robe atop your upper body with a flowy skirt poking out the bottom.

"What the fuck is that?" She gestures to your upper body

"It's my bathrobe." You say dumbly

"You're wearing a bathrobe to a party?" Ellie asks, her voice filled with judgment

"No!" You groan, "I just hate my arms in this dress."

Ellie gives you a look, almost as if she's saying,' And this is why I don't wear dresses'. She sighs and turns to run a brush through the mess on her head.

"I got this ugly cardigan in my closet. You can wear it if you want." She offers

Instantly, you're off your feet, rummaging in her closet to find said cardigan.

"This is anything but ugly." You point out as you pull it from her closet

"Well, I'm never wearing it, it's all yours." Elie motions

The Tipsy Bison is a buzz with what looks like every single person in Jackson. Music plays from one corner of the room, some guy named Alex who apparently knows how to DJ stands at some speaker set up.

Ellie leaves your side in search of her friends, and your eyes roam the crowd. The school teachers stand in a small circle giggling and pointing at some poor guy who has just tripped and fallen on his face. There's another group clustered together and you recognize them as the younger guys who got sent out on graveyard patrol shifts, Brett tosses his head back and laughs at something another has said.

The people you and Joel had rescued from the Walrus are also here. They sit together at a table in the corner. They were all nice enough but you'd left them alone since they entered Jackson, they deserved a sense of normalcy.

Lana leans against the bar, and a nameless woman whispers something in her ear that makes her blush. You liked Lana, you small talked with her when she was assigned to the greenhouse. She was artsy, always sketching in her free time, plus it helped that she made a mean venison stew.

Your eyes finally lead you to the man of the hour. Joel stands, tucked away in a corner, sipping at a glass of whiskey while Tommy rambles about something.

"Didn't think you were gonna show." Tommy greets you with a smile as you cut in

"Well, free booze is hard to pass up." You say honestly, motioning to your half-full glass, "America's independence is nice too."

"Y'look real nice." Tommy nudges Joel, "Doesn't she look nice?"

Joel nods, not meeting your eye.

You'd crossed a line earlier. You knew he didn't want to talk about Sarah, yet you pushed it anyway. You should've just lied and said there was dust in your eyes or that Ellie had beaten you in Uno again.

"Is Maria here?" You ask, hoping to hold baby Cailey

"Ah, she was but uh, Cailey had a blowout." Tommy huffs, "Went all over her and Maria."

You nod, trying to imagine how bad that must've been.

"Would've gone with them but Maria insisted she could do it alone," Tommy explains, trying to justify his wife's absence.

"You don't gotta worry about me judging your parenting skills, Tommy." You smile

Tommy chuckles and shakes his head, "Shudda smelled it. I don't know what's in that breastmilk but it stunk worse than-"

"We don't need a play-by-play of your kid's shit." Joel cuts in

You suppress a laugh as Tommy shoots Joel a hardened glare.

The party rolls on into the night, and you join Ellie and her little group of teens in a game of Monopoly, somehow losing each time to Dina. By the time you rejoin Joel in his corner, you'd been bankrupt twice.

"It's so not fair. They weren't even alive to see a real grocery store and they're mopping the floor with me." You groan as you flop down next to him on a bench

"Would've made good gamblers," Joel says

You snort, trying to imagine Ellie, Dina, and Jesse at the casino gambling away, "Yeah, right. They'd be broke in the first twenty minutes."

"Sounds like you're speakin' from experience." Joel teases

"No!" You gasp, punching his arm only to hit what felt like a block of muscle

This sends Joel into a fit of laughter as he looks at your perplexed face.

He was gorgeous like this. Warm light bathes his tanned skin, highlighting his sharp features. The whiskey he'd drunk gave his cheeks the softest pink tint as his crow's feet crinkled when he smiled more. A green button-down stretches across his chest, it's rolled up at the sleeves, exposing his forearms to your greedy eyes. Blue jeans that are perfectly hugging his thighs and, erm, other areas compliment said shirt nicely.

You chalk it up to the alcohol, yes, the way he's laughing at you must be the booze in his system.

"You're real funny, y'know that," Joel says

"You just have a terrible sense of humor." You huff, crossing your arms across your chest.

A tingle shoots down your spine when you feel Joel's skin brush yours. His big hand has moved to fix your cardigan, pulling it back up your shoulder.

The soft strum of a guitar starts, and you look over to see a woman you recognize as Nadia, sitting on a stool, her acoustic guitar in hand.

The delicate notes of some unnamed slow song starts as Alex switches from his DJ set to a beat-up keyboard he had. You pick at the skin of your fingernails, watching as Tommy pulls Maria away from her seat and onto the dance floor, Cailey cradled between their chests.

"Can I have this dance?"

Joel's deep voice nearly has you falling off the bench. He stands over you, hand stretched out, offering you a dance. Your face warms as you give him your hand. What kind of a person would you be if you left him hanging?

Joel leads you out onto the dance floor and rests his hands on your waist. You nervously fidget, your hands landing unsurely on his chest.

"I dunno how to slow dance." You quietly admit

Joel chuckles and moves your hands so they link together behind his neck,

"Y'did twenty years ago."

The fuzzy image of Joel spinning you around in his kitchen in front of the fridge comes to mind.

"That wasn't dancing...that was just being stupid."

Joel snorts and shakes his head, "Don't worry, I'll lead."

It shouldn't be as hard as it is, dancing with Joel. Yet here you are, stepping on his toes as he tries to lead you in a dance. Your eyes nervously flick around, wondering if anyone is watching.

All of a sudden as if it's magic, it feels like you and Joel are the only people in the world. Alone in a snow globe that spins round and round, keeping the two of you together forever.

"I'm sorry about earlier." You say, "Bringing up Sarah...I shouldn't have done that."

Joel shakes his head, his mustache twitching as he gives you a small, sad smile, "It's alright. I uh...Talkin' about her it's a good thing. It makes me sad but I feel like..."

Joel fumbles with his words as he tries to think of what he's trying to say. You smile and run your fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck, understanding what he means.

"It keeps her memory alive." You finish for him.

Joel nods and breathes a sigh of relief that you get it.

His dark brown eyes meet yours and your heart speeds up.

Fuck, you knew what was happening, and god was it bad. Joel runs his thumbs against the covered skin of your waist.

"Y'look real pretty tonight, baby." Joel's deep voice crowds your ears, "Sorry I didn't say it earlier."

"It's fine, thank you." You softly say

Was it getting hard to breathe in here? Who the hell was stealing all the oxygen? Probably Tommy and his fat mouth.

Joel speaks again, "Listen, I wanted to ask you if-"

"I, um, I'll be right back."

You force yourself to unlatch from Joel and push your way towards the doors of the bar. Once outside, you greedily gulp in the cool summer air. Crickets chirp as you begin the way back home.

Home. Joel's home was where you had been shaking up. Fuck! You couldn't go back there, not until this stupid feeling in your chest went away. If it ever went away, that is.

You were so stupid, falling for him again. You really didn't learn, did you? Twenty-one years into the apocalypse, you were head over heels for the same asshole who dumped you when you were in college.

College. If only your college roommate, Amelia could see you now. She'd probably either tell you to forget about Joel, or she'd say something about how hot Dilfs were.

The grass tickles your sandal-clad feet as you walk off, away from the bar. You must be the world's biggest fool. Of all people you knew, you knew all too well what he'd done. How he made you feel and then ripped it away just like that. He'd fucking mailed back your things and said your age was the reason for the breakup.

Fuck him. You weren't going to fall for his tricks again. Joel could shove his stupid mustache and his dad bod that made you drool up his ass for all you care.

The loud pat pat of footsteps has you spinning around, wishing you'd thought to tuck a pocket knife into the pockets of your cardigan. A deep voice fills your ears as you meet his eyes.

"Where the hell do you think you're goin'?"

Joel.

Next Part

Here we go, the feelings will be felt. Confessions confessed. Stay tuned for the final part!

Thank you for being patient with me as I write. My college courses are eating up all my time again. The Fantastic Four teaser motivated me to finish this part up for you, thank you, Marvel.

Comment to be added to the tag list. This tag list is not chapter by chapter, I carry the tags over to each part.

Tags:

@lunaticgurly  @orcasoul  @snowlycanroc  @freythecrazyfae

@person-005 @greenwitchfromthewoods

@elli3williams @yawnzzzzzzzz @am-3-thyst  @concrete-jungleeee

@cherrypieyourface  @kanyewestest @bambisweethearts

@sarahhxx03 @loveisacowboyyy @amyispxnk @lou-la-lou @dancinglotusbud @superblyspeedydragon @heartpatch @anoverwhelmingdin @korikolove

[right4you]

Tie a bow around it

Summary: you notice Joel is getting big and strong 🎀✨🎀

Note: 1K Word count. Had this idea come up while watching a Tik tok. Watch it hehe https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZP8Yjdnq4/

The hot summer air fans your face not helping at all to cool you down. The breeze picked up around 3 pm but Texas heat in July is not a Joke. The temperature today is at 103 Fahrenheit and it won't drop till 8 pm. Quietly groaning to yourself moving the umbrella to cover your body from the sun. The fan you set up beside you stopped working 10 minutes ago and you began to regret sitting out here while Joel works on your car.

Glancing away from your book for the one-hundredth time. You watch as Joel slides out from under your car. He stood up in the sun, tan skin glistening in sweat. He walks around the car to grab his towel patting his skin dry. He was gentle with it starting at his forehead down his face stopping at his neck where he was most sweaty.

Straight out of a movie, you thought.

He placed the dirty towel back on the cart grabbing a different tool (you wouldn't know the name of not even at gun point) You try to read your book starting all over again wanting to focus.

But you can't. Not when you have Joel fucking Miller a few feet away.

Alright, first sentence... the sound of him kneeling back on the ground, bones cracking, followed by a small groan escaping his pouty lips. You look his way again. He's shifted back down on the ground. Lying flat on his back, arms lifting above his head. His shirt lifts giving you a peak of his lower abdomen.

Fuck is he getting toner?

His once soft belly is looking more defined in this point of view. Has he been working out? You bit on your lower trying to remember the last time you saw him naked.The last few times you can recall have been at night not completely in the dark but in low light settings and you always keep your eyes closed because it can be too much to handle.

He comes out from under your car making eye contact with you and you immediately look away averting your attention to the words on the paper. Acting cool you twist the volume up on the radio next to you humming the tune of "Do You Want To Know A Secret" by the Beatles. You stare at the page not paying attention to any of the words you 'read'

"Are you ever going to turn the page?" He snorts mockingly knowing he caught you staring.

"Huh?" You instantly reply unsure by what he means.

"Huh." He mocks setting down whatever he held in his hands walking up to you. "You've been on the first page since I started" he picks up the book from your hands reading the title, examining it, then glancing at his watch. "I started at 2:30 baby, you should be on page 40 by now," he said knowingly at what speed you read.

"I've been distracted" you replied in a low voice looking up at him. He does look bigger and it's not because of the angle. No, he's grown muscle.

"By me?" He chuckles handing back your book and you look at his large hand.

"Yeah," you admit shamelessly. He shook his head with a smile turning away and making it back to your car and you watched, of course. His back is twice in size muscles forming under the thin T-shirt. "Joel?" You call him and he faces you with brows slightly raised.

"Yeah, baby?" He replies.

You turn the music down without looking "Are you getting buff?" You ask him furrowing your brows as you examine him from head to toe.

"Buff?" He questions with a confused expression. "I don't know what that means"

"It means muscular. I swear that shirt used to fit you loose" You both make eye contact again.

He pressed his lips together shrugging "Uhh I don't know, maybe. Been doing a lot of the heavy lifting at work. Probably that" he answers turning away to continue working on your car but you get an idea watching his arms flex.

You stand up from the lawn chair, and the book that was on your lap slams on the ground forgotten. You walk towards him "Look at me" you tell him and he turns to face you. "Do this" You curl your arm up creating a fist to squeeze the bicep muscle. He does as so but his is ten times larger. You watch in awe fingers coming up to touch his large thick muscle "damn when did you get so strong" you said lowly trying to come off as seductive.

He puffs out a chuckle through his nose, smiling down at you. "You're making me blush ma'am." He stops flexing. His hands come down to your waist pulling you flush against his hot wet body. "All that food you've been feeding me is making me big and strong" his face lowers to yours breath fanning your skin.

"So you should be thanking me then" you joke closing in the distance to lightly kiss his lips. The idea you had a few minutes ago pops into your head again pulling away. "Here put your arms back" You grab his hands from behind you placing them at his sides.

"Alright," he responds standing still watching you untie the pink ribbon that held your hair in a ponytail. Your hair comes undone falling gracefully down your back slightly heating the back of your neck and bare shoulders. You bring the pink material wrapping it around his tan-freckled forearm tying a tight bow. You giggled stepping back "What now?" He asks.

"Okay flex again, but as hard as you can," you say and his face contorts to a confused expression, nose scrunching and eyebrows knitting together. You roll your eyes "Just do it" you demand giving him a stern look.

He sighs but does as told. Arm curling up, fist facing his shoulder as he squeezes tight making a vein visible around the bicep. The bow undoes itself snapping in half from the tension. It fell to the ground and you couldn't help but blush but Joel was still confused.

“Ah I've been blessed" you squealed jumping up and wrapping your arms around his shoulders not needing to worry if you fell because he caught you.

His arms wrap around your waist holding you up against him. He kissed you back gently one hand coming down to your thigh picking it up helping you lift and both legs wrap around his waist. Your hands get lost in his curls your thighs tighten around his body.

"Inside" you mumbled in between kisses and he walked y'all back into the house.

Now the car is forgotten.

"Let me show you how blessed you are," he said huskily and you couldn't help but giggle with excitement.

[millers-angel]

me and joel core ✿

i need me a man like joel miller :(

[aurorawritestoescape]

Thank you so much! I’m glad that you liked it!❤️💞

FLOWER

Pairing: post outbreak!Joel Miller x f!reader

Tw: 18+ mdni, dead dove do not eat! dark fic! creator chose not to use all the warnings, unprotected piv, rough sex, enthusiastic consent, praise, choking, heavy angst

I didn’t include some warnings so as not to spoil the fic. If you wanna know them before reading DM me🖤

Word count: 900

A/n: Thank you for the moodboard and the writing challenge @iamasaddie ❤️ Your creativity never stops to amaze me😘😘😘

Masterlist

*****

Joel’s gripping the shovel tight, scowling at the first rays of the rising sun. A drop of sweat is sliding down the side of his face while he’s working tirelessly. His plaid shirt is completely soaked and an early morning breeze makes him shiver.

It’s the second time today that he’s sweating so profusely. The first one was a few hours ago when he was fucking you on his bed. Still wearing his shirt and jeans having just returned from a shift he was ruining your tight pussy as his sweat was dripping on your naked breasts.

“Sorry for waking ya up, baby. Need this,” he growled thrusting into you. “Fuck, that’s my girl!” he praised you, his face hovering over yours, after you tilted your hips up and opened your thighs wider for him to plunge deeper into your core. Your white nightie was bunged up in his fist, the skirt pulled up to your waist so he could see your greedy cunt swallowing his cock. His other hand found its usual place around your throat. Squeezing and letting go. And squeezing again.

***

You were always hungry for him, always ready to give yourself entirely. You never minded the dull ache of the stretch when his cock was splitting you in half. You loved the pain he bestowed on you, be it from his thick member or his harsh hands. You cherished every bruise and every scratch. He kissed them all after, gliding his calloused thumb over the ever changing rainbow of his marks on your body.

You’d been together only for a few months but his effect on you was tsunami-like. He quickly became your lover, your man, your god. You were new in town and the people in Jackson told you in a hushed voice to run, to escape, to leave him. He had a bad reputation, bloody trail of his past never seemed to wash off having turned him into a recluse. Yet no one could go against Maria’s brother-in-law. “He’s dangerous, violent, unstable”, well-wishers whispered in your ear at every opportunity when he wasn’t next to you. Which was rare. He became a major part of your life, all your life actually.

***

The first time he choked you, you came all over his thick thighs drowning his cock which was buried deep in your pussy. Soon you both couldn’t get enough of that feeling. Complete submission to Joel had already nested in your soul and you longed to give him more.

He’d never tell you but just the thought of holding your life in his hands like that made his cock throb. He loved your reaction to his hand wrapped around your neck. Joel groaned when your pussy vibrated around him, your cunt kissing his length. You looked so beautiful, your eyes rolled back, mouth opened desperate for air, your walls massaging his cock. He wanted to squeeze every part of you as if you were sand running through his fingers. He loosened his grip on your neck as soon as he started coming filling you up with his warm load. The color returned to your pretty face. You took a deep breath making up for the lack of oxygen and a surge of endorphins made you explode on his cock. You were in a pleasant daze after that and when he took you in his arms and stroked your hair you felt how much he loved you.

***

Today that love turned rotten. Poisonous. Suffocating. After fucking you still half asleep he sat up and put you on his lap with your back leaning against his broad chest. He was thrusting up into you and you helped him bouncing on his fat cock with your knees planted on the bed. His fingers were twitching your nipppes and rubbing your clit until his hand snaked up to the base of your throat and gripped it tightly. Your moan got muffled midway out of your lips and you rested your head on his shoulder.

“Love feeling your pulse, baby,” Joel murmured in your ear as your vein was fluttering under the pads of his fingers and your pussy began buzzing around his cock. Your hand was clenching his hair, the other gripping his forearm. You felt his muscles tighten as his fingers were squeezing your neck.

Soon Joel started shooting his cum into your womb and got lost in his high. Your pussy was making him feel so good. He missed how your hand tugged on his hair a few times and then fell on the bed. His spend was dripping out of your hole when his fingers finally parted from your throat.

*****

He stares at the ground and imagines you standing in front of him in your white nightie. You plant a soft kiss on his weathered lips and give him a warm smile. His dick twitches and he hates himself for it. He picks up the shovel and goes home.

There he doesn’t bother washing his hands. They’ll never be clean again. What’s done is done. And he’s done so many unspeakable things. Lost so much due to his mistakes.

He grabs his revolver from the nightstand and sits on the edge of the bed. He thinks of all the people he lost. All the people he hurt. He thinks of you, a pretty flower crushed by his brutal hand and his eyes sting with tears.

Today he’ll pay for all his sins. Today he won’t miss.

*****

Thank you for reading!

Let me know what you think❤️ your comments and reblogs will make me very happy!

[loveydovey489]

Not my normal post!! But this is my tumbler account. So I can rant abt what I want! Sorry!

TW: strong language ig? Just me ranting

I really really really HATE. The response to tlou part two show, and honestly pt1, with Bella Ramsey.

People who say she ‘isn’t a good actress’ or ‘dosent look like Ellie’ are shallow. And trying to hide the fact that they’re mad they don’t find a character who is ment to be 14 YEARS OLD. Can’t be sexualised anymore, because of the fact they don’t find bella Ramsey attractive.

ELLIE. WILLIAMS. IS. NOT. FOR. YOU. SHES. 14

the same thing with 19 year old Ellie,people, primarily men. Who are complaining about how isn’t a good fit. Need to fuck off to whatever goon-cave they crawled out of, because it’s actually gross. And once again

ELLIE. WILLIAMS. ISNT. FOR. MEN. SHES. WLW.

People (again, primarily men.) , fetishising her and Dina’s relationship in the games are mad they can’t do that.

Is there stuff about the show I think they could have done better? yes.

Is there stuff if change about makeup hair and costume for Bella if I was in charge? Yes

Is game Ellie going to be my fav because she’s what I played first? Yes!

But she is a fantastic actor, she won awards for her work as Ellie!! It’s clear the people who are complaining didn’t appreciate the show, and could only focus on how Ellie Williams was now ‘ugly’

It’s disgusting. To the people who think this, you’re weird and I hate you!

[lonely-ey3s]

With All My Love : Chapter 12 | love letters - part one

Chapter 12 : Love Letters pt. 1

Pairings: joel miller x f!reader (no outbreak)

Word count: 12.6k

Chapter Summary: Joel prepares to ask you a very important question today that he's been preparing to ask you for the last few weeks. Will you pick up on what's going on with the shift of energy and routine or will you be utterly surprised?

Chapter warnings: Chapter warnings: SMUT (18+ MDNI), public-ish sex, unprotected piv, anxiety, flashbacks of traumatic memories (for both reader and joel), mentions of PTSD anxiety, FLUFF, joel being an absolute lover, soft!joel, use of Spanish but with translations, lying to partner (justified), use of y/n, parental abandonment, domestic abuse/assault, some angst?, if i missed any lmk

A/N: enjoy my loves ❣️

Dividers by: @saradika-graphics 

Main Masterlist

Saturday, October 23rd

Joel had tossed and turned all night, unable to sleep due to the amount of nerves and excitement he was feeling. Today was it. 

He had everything planned to the T, this wasn’t going to be some spontaneous “Will You Marry Me?” in the middle of nowhere. No, you deserved more than that. He put so much thought and effort into this that Maria teased him for the absolute attention to detail he had possessed in this process. 

Sarah had been involved with everything behind the scenes, the same with Maria and Tommy. Elena even helped by distracting you and asking if you’d go get your nails done with her and Maria, her treat. You had no idea it was deliberate, you didn’t even think to assume something was up, Joel told you she wanted to get to know you both more and that was her love language. 

You had no idea of the plan; everything had been kept so airtight that when Joel mentioned he had plans this weekend, you just thought after the week you had gone through with Reggie’s passing and your PTSD that Joel was just giving you extra attention. 

Your alarm went off around 6 am to just get up, however, you snoozed it and rolled over, falling back asleep. 

Joel turned on his side and watched you sleep, with eyes full of love and adoration. He watched how your lips would curl involuntarily into a small smile as you slept, how you’d hum when you were dreaming, and Levi was right, you did a cute little leg kick when you were deep in sleep. Joel laid there and thought of every possible scenario he wanted to have with you. 

How it would be to hear a baby cry in the morning to wake up instead of that god-awful alarm tone. 

How beautiful you’d be with his baby in your womb, how you’d glow. He wanted that more than anything, to give you a baby. 

He thought about what your wedding might be. Would you want something big or small and intimate? He couldn’t wait to become your husband and you would be his wife. His wife… that had a ring to it. 

He thought about how he wanted to give you everything you ever needed in this world, he thrived in taking care of you, but there was something about vowing to do it for the rest of his days that put a jolt of joy into him, vowing to you, swearing his life to you. 

Since you had come into his life, he looked at everything from a completely different angle. Things that used to feel like he was suffocating or drowning felt warm and refreshing. He was cold, reserved, and just moving through life before you, trying to get to the next day. He now experiences the day and is always conscious of being in the moment. He wants to remember everything from the way you laughed at something so simple to the smile you gave when you looked at a pretty flower on the sidewalk. 

You stirred in your sleep and crunched your nose sighing deeply as you adjusted to lay closer to Joel.

He smiled and softly traced his fingers up your arm and then back down, feeling your soft skin on his fingertips. 

He whispered as he kissed your temple, “Mi corazón late por ti…” (My heart beats for you…) 

You snuggled closer to him and smiled softly, taking in a deep breath, keeping your eyes closed, voice soft with sleep, “Say more things in Spanish…” you giggled. 

He chuckled, and looked at you, continuing to trace his hands up and down your skin, “Tienes una sonrisa hermosa...” (You have a beautiful smile.)

You blushed and hid your face for a moment in the pillow. 

Joel kissed your cheek, “¿Puedo ver tus ojos?” (May I see your eyes) 

You shyly looked up at him, smiling, “¿Cómo dices? Brown eyes?” 

He laid his head down on his pillow while keeping eyes on you, “Ojos marrones…” he smiled. 

You nodded, “Amo tus grandes ojos marrones…” (I love your big brown eyes)

Joel chuckled softly and blushed, “Gracias, mi vida…”

He moved his hand up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, studying the freckles on your cheeks, memorizing the constellations.

You blushed under his gaze. You looked at his features, gently putting your hand on his chest, then looking at his lips before looking up at his eyes, he was doing the same, and you blushed a little more. 

He wasted not a moment, putting your chin in his grasp and pulling you towards his lips, kissing you gently once before pulling back for a moment, “I’m so in love with you…” before crashing his lips onto yours, kissing you more deeply and passionately. 

He pulled you closer by taking you by your waist, pulling you against him. You put your leg over his waist and maneuvered yourself to straddle him, never leaving his lips. 

He sat up with you on his lap and wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you close to him, meeting it with the other hand that was gently kneading your other hip, grinding your hips slowly onto his cock, devouring your lips. 

You comb through his hair gently, pulling him closer gently, breathing heavily and heated as his lips move from your lips to your neck, chest, and shoulder, feverishly littering you with his kisses. 

You giggle when his stubble runs across a part of your neck more sensitive than the rest, making him grin against your skin, “Ticklish there?” 

You nodded, smiling, “Seems so…” you giggled and leaned back a little to look a him, “Don’t get any ideas…” you smiled and put your hand on his chest to hold him back, eyes narrowing. 

He grinned and grabbed the back of your knees and moved so now you were on your back, making you giggle as he went to kiss and tickle that spot, also moving his hands to tickle your sides, making you laugh and squirm as you tried to push him off, “Joel! Stop I’m gonna pee!” you giggled under him. 

He chuckled which turned into a laugh when you said that and he pulled away, smiling as he hovered over you. 

You slowly stopped giggling and looked up at him, smiling lovingly. He moved down to kiss you when Sarah knocked on the door, making him sigh and lean his head against your shoulder, groaning quietly. 

“I’m making breakfast! Wake up!” she shouted then ran downstairs to the kitchen.

You chuckled, “Wonder what the special occasion is…” you smiled and put your hand on his cheek, pulling him to your lips, kissing him gently, whispering against his lips, “Whatever it is, it can wait 5 minutes, yeah?” you gently kissed him again, biting his bottom lip and pulling on it softly. 

He groaned and nodded, settling between your legs, cock rock hard, leaking precum as he quickly pulled his boxers down and moved your panties to the side, “Oh baby 5 minutes is being generous… te he estado deseando toda la mañana…” (I’ve wanted you all morning…) he growled before sinking deep into you, growling as he leaned back in to kiss you deeply as you moaned against his lips. 

—

Ok, it was more like 10 minutes, but he couldn’t get enough of you this morning and you wondered what had gotten into him. 

You came downstairs to Sarah cooking a whole spread of breakfast items. She had pancakes, bacon, toast, and eggs ready to go on plates to serve yourself at the counter. 

You looked around and then came up and kissed her head as she was turning over pancakes, “This all looks amazing, what’s the occasion?” you chuckled. 

She smiled and looked back at you, “Does there need to be an occasion for me to cook you guys breakfast?” 

You held your hands up defensively and shook your head, “No ma’am…” 

Joel came down shortly after dressed in a cream-colored henley that was a quarter button-up, dark wash jeans, and his nice boots. “Smells great baby girl, thank you!” 

He came up and kissed Sarah’s cheek then came up and put his hand on the small of your back, kissing your shoulder softly. 

You blushed and loaded some food onto your plate before going to sit at the table, waiting for the others to join you before eating a bite. 

Joel got a cup of coffee for you and set it by your plate, kissing your head softly before grabbing his plate and cup of coffee and sitting at the table. Sarah came a moment after with her plate and glass of orange juice. 

The three of you ate together for the next hour. It became a routine every Saturday to at least eat one meal together, catch up on the week, and plan for the one following so that you all were on the same page, however, today’s felt different and you couldn’t put your finger on why. You felt like something was going on that you didn’t know about as you kept catching Joel wink at Sarah or Sarah make a statement that might mean one thing to you but to Joel, it meant something entirely different. 

You got up to clean your plate when the garage door opened and in walked Tommy and Maria, “Somethin’ smells good!” Tommy bellowed from the garage before walking up the steps into the kitchen. 

“I cooked breakfast! There’s some leftover on the counter, help yourselves.” Sarah looked back at the two of them smiling. 

It wasn’t unusual for Tommy and Maria to show up out of nowhere, they did surprise visits constantly, but they usually kept to themselves on Saturdays as they knew that was a day for you three to spend together after a crazy week. 

You rinsed off your plate, Maria came by you as she piled some pancakes on her plate, “Hey, you wanna go dress shopping with me for a few hours? I have that job interview on Monday and need something to wear…” she smiled and nudged you gently. 

You looked up at her “Uhm, I think Joel had plans for us today…” you smiled. 

Joel stood up and smiled, “My plans aren’t til later baby, you can go shoppin’ if you want…” he came over and kissed your cheek, putting his plate in the sink to wash it. 

You looked at him and then Maria, “Oh, ok. Yeah, sure, wanna go after this?” you smiled. 

She nodded, “Yeah, what time should I have her back here?” she looked at Joel and took a bite of some bacon. 

“4 pm at the latest?” he smiled and walked away drying his hands on a paper towel and then putting it into the trash. 

You smiled, “Do I need to change for these plans or is this dress ok to wear?” you had on a new floral sun dress you had found while thrifting last week. One that Joel mentioned he wanted to see you in as soon as possible. You thought today would be a good day to wear it considering you guys are going out. 

He smiled brightly, “You look breathtaking in anything, anything will do for where we are going…” he came over and pecked your lips. 

You blushed and nodded then cleared your throat, “I’ll be home by 4 then…” you looked away shyly and filled your mug up with some more coffee. 

Reader’s POV

Maria finished up her breakfast and then you two left.

You went to the mall first and she dragged you to a department store to pick out a few pencil skirts, dress shirts, formal dresses, and other things like cardigans, sweaters, and shoes.

You were sitting in the dressing room in the waiting area when she came out to show you the outfit she had put together. It was some corduroy brown pants with a white button-down and then a sweater over it, very comfy but yet professional in your opinion. She turned to look at herself in the mirror, “Thoughts?” she asked smiling and turning to look at the angles. 

You were lost in thought, messing with a loose thread on the chair you were sitting on. 

“Y/N?” Maria chuckled and turned towards you.  

You snapped out of your thought and looked up at her, “Hmm?” 

She smiled, “Where’s your mind?” 

You bit your lip and looked down at the thread, “Just in my head… don’t mind me.” you sighed softly then looked up and put on a smile, “I like that outfit, maybe you could add a cute belt? Wear those cute flats you got the other week?” you suggested trying to change the subject. 

Maria nodded, agreeing with your suggestions, “I like that idea, I’ll look for a belt.” she  turned back towards the mirror and then bit the inside of her cheek, “What’s goin’ on in that head?” 

You shook your head, “Nothin’ just… somethin’ feels odd about today, but I can’t put my finger on it – like I feel like I’m missin’ something or forgot somethin’...” your foot began to bounce, an anxiety tick you’d developed subconsciously. 

Maria looked back at you, you were starting to pick up on the energy that everyone was most likely exuding today from the excitement of what was going to happen. She shrugged, “Hmm, I’m sure it’s nothing, just an off day?” she smiled at you, trying to keep you at bay. 

You nodded and took a breath, smiling softly, “You’re right, it’s probably nothing.” you cleared your throat and sat up to focus more, “Have we tried on that pencil skirt yet?” 

She shook her head and started heading back to her changing room, “That’s next…” she closed the door. 

You cleared your throat, “How are things going with you and Tommy?” 

“Good! We had a conversation the other day about how we both feel about marriage, which was surprising.” she came out with the pencil skirt on, keeping the top the same. 

You chuckled lightly, “Why’s that surprising? Did you not think he was the marriage type of person?” you looked at her skirt, “I like that with maybe the button down you have on under, but the sweater is too much.” 

She nodded and took the sweater off, leaving the button down on, she began tucking it into the skirt, “I don’t know, he just seems so comfortable where we are, never thought he would talk about that so soon you know?” she looked at herself in the mirror after finishing the tucking, “You’re right, it was too much. Do you think heels would look good or flats?” she arched her foot up to give the illusion of wearing a heel. 

You adjusted in your seat, “I think heels help with the definition of the pencil skirt, flats would make it look too blah…” you smiled, “Wait, what do you mean so soon? You guys have been flirting longer than Joel and I have, hell, you guys are ahead in more ways than I think we are. Doesn’t shock me he’s brought it up.” 

She nodded and turned towards you, popping her hip out, “Yeah, I guess.” you bit her lip and grinned, “Have you and Joel had that talk yet?” 

You let out a small chuckle, “We’ve brushed over it a couple of times but I’ve always known Joel to eventually want to settle down, you know? It’s just something we’ve not needed to ‘talk’ about, you know?” you tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, looking down shyly, “It’s just something that I think he’ll ask one day and I’ll gladly say yes to.” you blushed and smiled down as you messed with the hem of your dress before clearing your throat and looking back at her, “But I don’t think that’s happening any time soon. I think he doesn’t want to ask too soon, he’s always worried about moving too fast, you know?” you softly chuckled, rolling your eyes jokingly.

Maria nodded and returned to the dressing room, smiling a little too widely to be around you, she spoke from behind the curtain, “Yeah. He does seem to worry about that.” she paused “But I think we can both agree, Joel seems a bit more domestic than Tommy.” she said, hearing you hum in agreement. 

She pulled her phone out and texted Joel: 

M: How’s it going so far? Still need her out til just after 4 pm?

J: Yes please, I’ll call when you can head here. 

She changed and came out in another skirt, this one lighter gray, and changed her blouse. 

“This color or the other one I tried?” she came to look in the mirror. 

You looked up from your phone and smiled softly, “I like this one with the other blouse and maybe a jacket?” 

She nodded, “Wanna go find me one while I try a few more things?” 

You stood and nodded, “Sure thing.” then walked to go find some jackets that would match. 

As you were browsing you couldn’t help but overhear a couple in the aisle over arguing, borderline fighting. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to. You said that I could pick out an outfit, so I did. I didn’t know that it wasn’t on sale, it was in the sale rack, so I just assumed…” she pleaded. 

You heard a man lower his tone and then a small yelp as he grabbed onto her arm tightly, “Oh you assumed? I don’t fucking care, put it back or I’ll make you and it won’t be very fun...” he threatened through clenched teeth. 

She nodded fearfully and he shoved her towards the rack, making her stumble over her feet. 

He scoffed, “You’re so fucking clumsy.” he mocked her like he hadn’t just shoved her almost into the damn rack.  

You zoned out for a moment, thinking back to about a year ago when a similar scenario happened between you and Charlie. 

2 years ago

The waitress had just left with your orders and you knew the second she left and his fake smile dropped you had done something wrong. 

“Did I say that you could order fries with your burger?” he leaned forward as he growled at you from across a booth. 

You bit the inside of your cheek, thinking then quickly responding, voice meek and quiet, “I’m sorry, she asked and you didn’t say no so I assumed it was ok…” You looked down to avoid eye contact, beginning to pick at your cuticle nervously. 

“You assumed? So I guess you’ll just assume that I’ll be paying extra for the fries? You assumed that too, right?” he bit out through clenched teeth, gripping the edge of the table. 

You felt people’s eyes on the two of you, watching as he dragged you through the mud with his tongue, begging for someone to say something, offer a hand, or help, but no one said a word. 

They left you in that booth to be torn apart by that monster. 

You swallowed, “I… Charlie, I’m sorry. I’ll have her send them back when she gets here.” you didn’t dare look up, too afraid to say or do anything more than keep apologizing. 

“No. It’s fine, you’re fat ass can have the damn fries. Shouldn’t have expected anything less from a pig.” he scoffed and leaned back, tracking a swig of the beer he had. 

You kept your head down, continuing to pick at your cuticle, leg bouncing up and down anxiously, trying to focus on the soft sound of the music playing overhead. 

About 10 minutes went by before she returned with your food, you looked up and put on a fake smile, “Excuse me, I’m so sorry, I misunderstood you when you asked if I wanted fries, could you please remove them from our bill and my order? I’m going to barely be able to finish the burger… let alone fries too.” 

She smiled and nodded, “Of course hun, just give me a sec to fix that for you.” she took your plate and walked away, coming back less than a minute later with just your burger. 

Your stomach growled at the absence of the fries. You would have really loved them in addition, as he had you on a hunger strike for the last 3 days, but you didn’t want Charlie paying for something he didn’t permit you to add onto the bill. You smiled softly and thanked her. 

She walked away and he scoffed looking at you, “You’re pathetic.” 

You kept your head down and ate the burger as quickly as you could, not only due to the hunger you were experiencing but if he had to wait for you so you both could leave, you don’t know what else would happen on top of the punishment you were most likely going to get due to the first incident. 

Before you could make it back out to the car after you both had finished he had smacked you across the face in the parking lot and shoved you up against the door of his truck, grabbing you with his hand by your jaw, “You ever pull that shit again and I’ll fucking kill you, do you understand?” 

You looked at him with eyes filled with nothing but fear, nodding quickly, “Yes… I understand.” tears started to form in your eyes. 

He let you go but didn’t get into the car until he backhanded you across the face again, leaving your cheeks red and stinging. 

You snapped out of it when you heard a small sound of a slap landing on her skin, which could only mean one thing with how he was speaking to her. 

You peeked over and saw her touch her cheek, tears falling as she felt the sting. He crowded her space, his fist balled, muttering “You’re such a fucking bitch…”

You knew if he wasn’t in public this would be a lot worse. 

That was all you needed. 

In times like these, when this had happened to you, you prayed someone would say or do something, offer to help you, stand up to Charlie. It meant more for someone else to say something than the person being abused, bystanders meant something. 

You made your way to the front of the store and cleared your throat for the attendant’s attention at the counter, “Hi, could you please put in a call to the police? I just witnessed a man hitting his girlfriend, threatening her, and she has other indicators of further abuse…” you spoke softly and calmly. 

The attendant nodded and pulled the phone out quickly, calling. You leaned against the counter to face the exit and texted Maria:

Y/N: Something came up, they don’t have any jackets here that’ll match, we can go somewhere else. I’m at the front when you’re ready.”

Maria came out a few minutes later and came up to you, “Hey, what’s going on?” 

You kept your eye on the couple and explained what you witnessed. She nodded and paid for her things before coming to stand by you. 

The cops showed up less than 5 minutes after that and came up to the store attendant, “We got a call about a domestic abuse and assault allegation?” 

You cleared your throat and stuck out your hand for him to shake, “Hi, I had the store call. I witnessed the altercation and would love to give you my statement.” you smiled softly. 

He nodded and shook your hand, then pulled out his notepad to gather information. 

While he gathered your statement the other officer went over to talk to the couple, he pulled the man aside and began questioning him separately. Instantly, the man was on the defense, making stupid excuses and lies.

You explained that you had witnessed him hit her and threaten her. You mentioned you were a domestic abuse survivor yourself and know the signs. You also noted to him that she had bruises on her arm which you knew meant this had been happening for some time, indicating that this is a pattern of behavior. 

The store attendant cleared her throat and noted that they found the altercation on the security cameras, further supporting your statement. 

He nodded and had the attendant send the evidence to his office via email then looked at you, clearing his throat, “Mind if we take down your contact information in case we need you in any court proceedings?” 

You shook your head, “Not at all, I’m happy to help.” you gave him your information then looked at him, confused, “Wait, you’re arresting him, it’s that easy?” 

He looked at you sadly, understanding you hadn’t had the same treatment done for you, “Here in Texas we take any form of abuse seriously, I’m sorry if you didn’t get the same treatment where you were, ma’am.” 

You nodded and chuckled, “That’s refreshing to know.” you teared up and looked down, “You have no idea how much relief that brings me to know this woman has a chance to get out.” 

The cop nodded and held out his hand, “We’ll call you if we need anything else, but you’re free to go. We’ll handle it from here.”

You looked up and shook his hand, thanking him.

He walked away and you let out a shaky breath, watching them cuff the guy and the girl looked relieved as she spoke to the officer that took your statement. 

Maria touched your arm softly, “Hey, you ok?” 

You nodded, “Yeah… I just… I don’t know why but it just hit me, I’ll never deal with that with Joel.” you had a few tears fall, “That part of my life is over… thank god...” you let out a small laugh. 

Maria smiled and squeezed your arm, “He loves you so much and for the time you were with Charlie, I’m sure Joel will make up tenfold.” 

You looked at her and nodded, chuckling as you wiped tears coming down your cheeks. 

You cleared your throat after a few moments of composing yourself, “Let’s go find you a suit jacket, yeah?”

She nodded and took your arm, “How does the thrift store down the street sound?” 

You perked up, “Now you’re speakin’ my language…”

–

She knew that taking you to the thrift store would not only be for her but you’d find things for yourself as well. If you knew any better you’d pick up on how she knew this would keep you busy which was her goal today with you. Keep you out of the house and away from Joel while he puts everything together. You spent more than an hour there, you found some suit jackets for Maria, all looked amazing on her. 

She also found some really cute belts to go with some of the outfits and some really cute bags as well. 

You found yourself a few outfits as well in case you had some interviews coming up, there were some very business options, and some more business causal options, but you found things that brought you such joy. 

You also snuck over and found Joel some nice shirts and even found him some cowboy boots in his size that you couldn’t help but grab. You couldn’t wait to get home and show him. Maybe he could wear them out tonight as they’d go great with the outfit he had on today. 

You left and went to another mall plaza across town as Maria had said she wanted to find some more options plus you both loved shopping, and you had time to do whatever you wanted as you saw it was only 2 pm. 

After a few more stores and hours of shopping, she found a few options for the interview and then some more for if she got the job. You were at the checkout when you saw the time, it was 5 minutes to 4 pm. 

‘Shit, we lost track of time.’

You pulled out your phone and sent a text to Joel:

Y/N: Hey cowboy, I’m going to be a little late getting home, lost track of time. We are just checking out and then should be home within the next 20 minutes. I love you. <3

There were those three dots shortly after as he was typing a response then a message popped up from him: 

J: No worries, sweetheart. Just take your time and get here safely. I love you too. 

You helped her carry all the bags to her car, packing them into the trunk and packing the back seat with the remaining.  

You were driving out of the parking lot when Maria’s phone started to ring from her purse, you pulled it out and saw it was Joel, “Do you want me to answer for you since you’re driving?” you asked looking over at her. 

She nodded, “Yeah, could you?” she looked to the left and then right to pull out of the lot.

You answered the call, putting it on speaker, “Hey sweetheart, we are about 15 minutes away, we just left the mall.” 

Joel smiled at you answering, everything was going to plan, and he chuckled, “Uh, yeah, about that... I went and ran a few errands with Tommy… and the truck broke down, can you and Maria come and grab us? A tow truck is coming to get the truck to take it to the shop. You and I will just grab a ride home from them to our plans?” 

Maria nodded and looked at you, mouthing ‘Where are they?’ 

“Oh shoot, yeah, we can. Where are you guys?” you asked with slight concern in your voice. 

He tsked his tongue, acting confused, “Uhm, stuck somewhere rural, we took a back road trying to avoid traffic. I’ll send Maria a pin of our location so she can put it into her phone, yeah?” 

You nodded and looked at Maria, she nodded. “Yeah, that works. We will just see you soon.” 

He smiled, nodding, “I’ll see you soon, mi vida. Drive safe, take your time, no rush.” 

You smiled and nodded, “We will. I love you.” you said softly. 

He softly answered back, “I love you too.” 

You hung up the phone and then pushed the address he had texted Maria, “Damn, 26 minutes away, what the hell were they doing?” you chuckled and handed the phone to her to help navigate the way. 

She chuckled and bit her cheek to stop herself from grinning, “I have no idea, guess we’ll find out soon enough…” and then turned right at the next light to head that way. 

Joel’s POV 

After you and Maria left, it was like a green light went off. Tommy and Sarah dropped what they were doing and ran into the garage. They got the supplies he had gathered and hid over the last few weeks, pulling them out of hiding.

He had gathered fancy pillows, nicer blankets, and fairy lights, as well as small candles to create an ambiance. 

Sarah ran upstairs and grabbed a box of photos and the other supplies she had hidden in her room that she and Joel made together over the last few days when you weren’t around, these three had a game plan, they were eager to execute. 

There were a few errands they still needed to run and do before they were to set up at the location. Joel had to run to a florist to get some flowers he had ordered and then also needed to run to the local diner you both loved to eat at when you’d go out to run errands or just for some good comfort food as he was also going to set up a picnic. 

Tommy packed everything into the truck and then came in, “We have everything?” he said slightly out of breath. 

Joel pulled out his phone and looked through the list he had made, checking things off as he went down, then nodded his head, “Ring and gift, then that’s it. I’ll meet ya’ll in the truck.” he put his phone in his pocket then ran upstairs while Tommy and Sarah went out to get into the truck. 

He got into the closet and pulled out a big box hiding behind a pile of clothes that he had wrapped in some brown kraft paper that had ‘Mi Amor’ addressed in pen on it, and wrapped with a nice deep green bow that Sarah had helped him tie. 

He then knelt and pulled the lockbox out from under the bed, entering in the combo of 0720, pulling out the ring box, smiling brightly as he opened it up once more to look at it and teared up. For a moment he stopped and was thinking about how you’re going to react to all of this, he couldn’t wait to make you his fiance and then wife. 

He locked the lockbox up and slid it back under the bed, then grabbed the box on the bed, put the ring box in his pocket, and headed down to the truck to join Tommy and Sarah. As he walked down the stairs he thought about how in this house, that bedroom, not too many years ago, he never would have thought a ring would be in his pocket and he would be proposing to the love of his life today. 

—

14 years ago

Sarah was no more than 6 months old, Joel had come back home from work after getting a call from Rachelle that he needed home, and that it was an emergency. 

He rushed through the front door, panicking as he ran upstairs, “Rachelle, what’s wrong? Where’s Sara-” he stopped seeing her packing her bags in the bedroom, moving back and forth from the closet and dresser to the suitcases on the bed. 

“I’m leaving. I can’t do this anymore Joel,” she said as he shoved some clothes into the duffle bag she had opened on the bed. 

Joel came over, “What do you mean? I… I don’t understand.” he started to walk back and forth with her. 

She stayed quiet, continuing to gather her things. 

Joel sighed, frustrated, “Will you stop and talk to me?” he moved in front of her, trying to get her attention. 

She maneuvered her way around him, “There’s nothing to talk about. I just needed you home so Sarah wasn’t alone.” she grabbed a bag from inside the closet that contained her sentimental items. 

“Wait- what do you mean? You… you can’t leave. You can’t leave Sarah… she needs you. I… I need you.” he followed her as she walked back from the closet to the bed. 

She scoffed, “Joel, Sarah will be fine. She takes formula and is at the age where she doesn’t need a mother…” She shook her head as she put the back in the suitcase, “...and I… I never wanted this life Joel… you did.” she rolled her eyes and chuckled coldly, “I didn’t want this but you did and I was convinced that I could make it work, that if I tried, I could do it, but I… I don’t want this. I do not want to be a mother, I had dreams.” she looked at him, eyes numb, “...I’m leaving to pursue them.” 

Joel looked at her and searched her eyes, “Rachelle… Sarah will need you all her life. She… we are a family. I love you, I’m sure what’s going on is somethin’ like postpartum depression, like what the doctor suggested. Please don’t do this…” he tried to take her hand but she pulled away from him and turned to walk down the hall to get some other things. 

Joel stood there for a second, his heart racing, mind feeling like it was moving a million miles a minute, he snapped out of it hearing Sarah cry in her crib. 

Rachelle walked past her nursey and sighed, sounding annoyed by the crying, “I… I can’t. Joel?” 

Joel walked into the nursery and picked up Sarah, cradling her softly, “Shh it’s ok baby girl. Daddy’s got you.” he softly rubbed her back. 

He held her close to him and rocked back and forth, humming softly as he watched Rachelle walk in and out of the bedroom, his heart slowly breaking. 

He knew Rachelle was struggling and that she was having a hard time bonding with Sarah, but he didn’t think this would ever happen. He did everything he could to help her, to support her. He worked extra jobs so that they could afford child care every other day, but working longer hours meant he wasn’t there as much when she did have Sarah by herself. It felt like he was stuck between a rock and a hard place. 

Sarah drifted back to sleep so he gently put her back in the crib and walked out, gently closing the door enough to leave a small crack. 

“What can I do or say to make you stay? I’ll do anything. Tell me, I’ll make it happen.” he said as he came into the bedroom. 

“Joel, you’re not hearing me. I’m not staying.” she closed her suitcase and started to zip it up. 

“Rachelle, you can’t leave…” he spoke softly, trying to stay calm, “Sarah needs a mom. She needs you. I thought we said we would figure this out, we would do this together… we made her that promise in that hospital bed, you remember?” he came up stood behind her, “Please…” he pleaded.

She took a breath and shook her head, tears falling, “Promises can be broken.” she turned around and looked at him, “Especially when it’s what’s best for everyone involved.” 

Joel shook his head and tears started to form, he went past frustrated to disbelief. Something snapped when she said that. 

He scoffed and jutted his jaw, “How is this best for everyone? You’re leavin’ us for your benefit!” he shouted, pointing at her. 

She nodded, “Yes. I am. I’ve made my peace with that.” she said emotionless. 

Joel took a breath and turned around, chuckling in anger, “I… is there someone else?”  

She remained quiet for a moment then sighed, “What if there is? It’s not like we are… married or anything… we are more like co-parents than partners since Sarah was born, Joel.” she said quietly, making any excuse she could come up with. 

Joel turned around and began chuckling coldly, blown away, feeling his anger brewing up, “Are you kidding me? How in your right mind do you figure that Rachelle?” he chuckled, “I… I’m sorry, but me fucking you almost every other night and us talking about potentially getting married the other week doesn’t say ‘co-parents’ to me!?” he began to raise his voice. 

She looked down, avoiding his eyes, “I… I’m sorry if you’re feeling confused.” 

Joel chuckled, “Confused? Confused doesn’t even begin to describe what I’m feelin’ right now!” he slapped his hands against the side of his legs in defeat and shook his head, “I… I don’t even know where all this is comin’ from. You never gave me any indication this wasn’t what you wanted! You said you were scared, but that’s what everyone says when they get pregnant by accident! Other than that, you’d never said anything, at least to me!?” he began processing things, concluding that no matter what he said or did, it was never good enough for her. Tears threatened to escape down his cheeks. 

She stood there, staring at the ground, feeling nothing about what he was saying, she was disconnected long before now. 

“What… what about your parents? Do they want anything to do with her if you leave because if you’re done, that’s it, you’re done, and they are too. I won’t subject Sarah to that life of half her family not loving her fully.” he said bluntly. “…you don’t get to show up one day and be the Disneyland mom that abandoned her kid and then comes to her senses years later and tries to be involved.” he pointed at her, narrowing his eyes, tears falling now, “You don’t get to abandon our daughter and then come back as nothing happened, that’s not fair to her.” he ground his teeth, anger festering.

Rachelle nodded and sighed like she was tired of the conversation, “That’s fair. I won’t come back.” she picked up her suitcase and duffle bag and began to walk out of the bedroom. 

Joel shook his head and began breathing heavily, then followed after her, “What do I tell her huh? One day, she’ll ask where her mom is, what do I tell her? Do I break her heart and tell her that mommy never wanted her? Tell her that mom packed her bags and left us?” he bit at her as she walked down the stairs in front of him. 

“You tell her whatever you think is best Joel, I really don’t care.” she shook her head, determined to get out of the door. 

Joel let out a breath, shocked by her response, and stopped walking, standing at the bottom of the stairs as she touched the front door knob, “So that’s it? Not even going to tell her goodbye?” 

She looked back at him and clenched her jaw, shaking her head, “Goodbyes are for when you’ll see the person again, goodbyes aren’t forever. This is forever. Like you said, if I walk out this door I’m done.” she looked back at the door and opened it, “I wish you nothing but the best Joel. For both you and Sarah.” she softly said before walking out the door and quietly closing it leaving Joel standing there, alone, confused and heartbroken. 

—

The house and his life had a warmth to it now, Rachelle left a coldness to it when she left, sucked all the life and joy out of him for a long time that night when she left. 

He barely recognized the person he was when she left them. Joel wished he could tell that young man at the bottom of the stairs, crying as he held his baby girl in his arms, feeling alone and abandoned, ‘Just wait, someone will come along to make you the happiest man alive.’ 

If there was one thing he would change about the relationship you two had, it would be that, for both of your sakes, you both met sooner. You wouldn’t have been with Charlie and he would have had more time with you. 

Maria had been sending him small updates over the next couple hours, letting him know how you were doing, what they were doing, just keeping him informed of the mood of the day as something everyone was concerned with was your mental health so close after Reggie’s funeral. To everyone’s surprise, you were doing better than expected, which is all they could ask for. 

They had run to the florist and got white roses and baby breath to decorate with and then ran to the diner about an hour before you were due to show up and got your meals from the restaurant, putting them in a cute wicker picnic basket Joel had found at a thrift store he went to with Sarah to gather things to decorate with knowing how much you loved the mall details and also loved little things that had character from the thrift stores. 

The three of them went to that lookout that Joel talked about in those messages when you were away at Delta 42. He told you that you’d look at the universe while he’d hold his. In his mind, there was no better place to propose to you. 

Joel parked by a tree that overlooked the city below and Tommy started to hang those fairy lights above. Sarah opened the tailgate and started helping Joel fix everything, laying out blankets and pillows to create a cozy space. 

Joel then hopped out of the truck's bed, and he and Sarah started lining up battery-operated tea lights and placing about a hundred around the truck on the ground. 

Sarah looked up at him, “How are you feeling?” she smiled softly. 

“I’m feeling a bit nervous, but like an excited nervous, you know?” he chuckled lightly. 

She nodded and chuckled with him, “I still can’t believe you’re asking her to marry you, it’s crazy that a year ago it was just you and me.” she looked down at the container she had and pulled out photos she had gathered of you and Joel, the three of you, and some of you and Sarah throughout the months, starting to wrap them around the tree as she had put them on a long string for this purpose. 

Joel nodded and clicked his tongue, “I never thought I’d ever get married, if I’m being honest. I don’t think Tommy or I ever thought we’d find anyone to take on our asses.” he softly laughed. 

Sarah chuckled, “I guess it took a special kind of girl for you both to find, right?” she anchored the photos and then stood up and looked back at her dad who was chuckling and nodding. 

She dusted her hands off and then looked around, the sun was starting to set and everything looked so beautiful. She could tell how much thought and effort Joel put into this and knew you’d feel so special by all of this, “It looks great Dad…” 

She came over and hugged him, “I’m so happy for you. I love you.” 

He hugged her back and kissed the top of her head, “I love you too baby girl. Thank you for all your help and support with this.” 

She smiled and then looked at the time, “Time to give Maria the call?” she winked. 

He chuckled and nodded, then pulled out his phone and dialed her number. 

You watched out the window as Maria drove, noticing that you had no idea where you were going. 

“Jeez, these two really went out to the middle of nowhere…” you chuckled. 

You began driving up a dirt path and became confused, looking around you, muttering under your breath, ‘What the hell…’ 

Maria continued to drive, keeping her eyes peeled out, and looked around as she drove. She approached the top of the hill and smiled as she saw Tommy and Sarah standing on the side of the road, they waved and smiled. 

She pulled off to the side and opened the door, getting out, you followed and looked around, “Hey… where’s Joel?” 

Sarah smiled and nodded up the road, “He’s just trying to fix something before the tow truck comes, he’s just up the path a little further.” 

You looked at them all and nodded, “I see. I’ll go check on him, and see if I can help.” you smiled softly and started making your way up the path. 

Tommy smiled and cleared his throat when you were far enough away not to hear, “Like a mouse falling for the cheese in a trap…” he chuckled. 

Maria and Sarah started to tear up as you kept walking. 

—

When you got the the top of the hill you saw the truck and Joel sitting on the edge of the bed, you giggled, “Joel?” you started to walk up to him, “What? What is all this?” 

He immediately jumped off the bed and started walking towards you, smiling brightly, “Surprise darlin’!” 

You chuckled and blushed, the amount of effort that went into all the details you could see was mind-blowing and made your heart race, butterflies erupting in your stomach. 

He met you a little more than halfway up the path, and pecked your lips lightly, taking your hand in his to lead you to the truck, “Come ‘ere…” 

You smiled as you followed him, wrapping your hand around his bicep as you walked with him, “I… I am so confused what’s the occasion?” 

He kept walking and when you two got to the truck and lifted you to sit on the edge of the bed by your waist, making you giggle softly, “Can’t I just surprise you with grand and elaborate things like this?” 

You looked down at him and gently took his face in your hands and leaned down, softly kissing him a few times before pulling back, “You can… it just… still knocks me out of orbit that you love me this much sometimes…” you blushed and gently caressed his cheek. 

He took a soft breath in and then hopped up to sit next to you, “Well, I do have one more surprise so get back into orbit…” he winked and chuckled. 

You smiled and looked at him, “What do you mean one more surprise?” 

He leaned back and pulled the box that was wrapped out from behind him, “This is for you, mi vida…” he looked at you lovingly. 

You gasped softly and bit your lip, trying to keep tears from falling, “Joel… what is this? What…” you shook your head, “Why?” 

He smiled softly, “The only ‘why’ there ever will be is because I love you…” he leaned over and gently kissed your cheek, “Now open it, baby…” 

You looked at him then at the box, then back up at him, “I… I just…” you chuckled, starting to tear the wrapping paper carefully, to reveal a box, you smiled, and opened the box which had a backpack in it and then a letter on top of it saying, “Open the backpack first then me <3…”

You set the letter to the side of you and looked at Joel, “What is this?” you pulled the backpack out of the box and gently put the box aside, then looked for the zipper. It looked like a backpack that opened somewhat like a suitcase so you laid it flat and opened it up to find a Nikon camera, multiple lenses, an SD card case, and a few other accessories, “Joel… I…” you shook your head, smiling widely, feeling overwhelmed by emotion, you teared up, “This cost a fortune baby… I…” 

He scooted closer to you and gently cupped your cheek, “Before you say anything else let me just say a few things…” he gently caressed your cheek, “You deserve this. I don’t want to hear how expensive it was or how you can’t repay me… this is me taking care and supporting you and your dreams.” he kissed your forehead then nose and chuckled and when you did, tears streaming down your face.

He continued, “I already booked you with Wendy, she’s contracted with you. She also has a few other friends who want to hire you.” he tucked a strand behind your ear, “I want you to do something that you love and you love taking photos, this…” he looked down at the bag, “This is the least I can do is help you get what you need to get started, my love.” 

You shook your head and chuckled, smiling widely, then leaned in and captured his lips in a deep and slow kiss, putting your hand on his chest softly. 

He kissed you a few times before gently pulling back and pecking your lips, you whispered, “Thank you…” you leaned your forehead against him, keeping your eyes closed. 

He leaned back in and kissed you once more, you could feel his heart pounding in his chest as your hand rested there. Yours was also pounding but for an entirely different reason, you smiled against his lips and then gasped excitedly, “Oh, the letter!” you giggled and turned around to grab the envelope, carefully opening it. 

You pulled out the letter and unfolded it, smiling softly at him and then at the paper as you began to read: 

Mi amor, 

I think that continuing to write each other letters is a great idea and would love to do it with you. I, too, miss the excitement and thrill of seeing an envelope from you. Sarah will tell you that on days that I didn’t hear from you for quite some time, and before we had Skype to talk to each other– I’d sit there every morning and watch for the mailman to come only just to run out to the mailbox the second he left to look for your letters. 

I was smitten with you so early on now that I look back on it. I think within the 2nd or 3rd letter, I had developed feelings for you. I wanted nothing more than to protect you, to take care of you. I couldn’t believe that you felt the same way when we finally admitted it– and here we are. 

I constantly think back to the first time I heard your voice when Tommy and Maria had Skyped each other that one time and you and Z came in giggling. I sat on that bed and fell head over fuckin’ heels in love with you the second I realized it was your voice. I have never felt so sure about someone in my life. After Rachelle– I kept my heart very guarded and under a lot of protection, never feeling that someone would come along and completely sweep me off my feet, I never believed in love after she left. 

But you swept me off my feet. You made me believe in love again. 

You instantly made everything brighter, made everything warmer, and feel more alive. I can’t thank you enough for what you’ve brought to our lives, and my heart. 

But–- I can try to make it up to you, make you as happy as you make me. I want to spend my life with you. I want to take care of you. I want to support you. I want to give you everything you’ve given me- peace, love, and happiness for the rest of our days. I've never known a peace like the one I have when I'm with you, mi vida. 

Not too long ago, I made you a promise that one day I’d marry you, and I’d like to make good on that promise today. 

With all my love,

(hopefully your fiance) Joel

You moved the letter down into your lap after reading the last sentence and found him on one knee in front of you. Instantly your eyes were misty with tears as they began to fall, softly letting out a chuckle. 

He smiled lovingly, his eyes clouded with tears and cheeks rosy, holding up a ring box, nervously letting out a shaky breath before softly speaking your name, “Will you marry me?” 

You put your fingers over your mouth as you begin to quietly giggle, met his eyes, nodding frantically, and let out a soft chuckle as tears continue to fall down your cheeks, speechless.

You put the letter to the side of you and quickly slid down and off the tailgate of the truck, meeting him on his knee, taking his face in yours gently, smiling and giggling, nodding again and whispering “Yes…” as you brought your lips to his in a searing passionate kiss. 

He chuckled against your lips and kissed you back, putting his hand on your cheek as well, pulling back after a few kisses, “Yes?” he smiled against your lips, clarifying. 

You chuckled, which turned into a giggle, “Yes! Yes, I’ll marry you.” you gently caressed his cheeks with your thumbs, looking into his eyes, you both smiling brightly. 

He gently took your left hand and pulled his gaze back, with shaking hands as he was so nervous and excited, took the ring out of the box and put it onto your ring finger, it fit perfectly. 

You looked down at your hand and saw the ring, “Joel this is… it’s beautiful.” you touched the ring with your other hand, fixing it to be straight. 

“It’s been in my family for a couple of generations… it only felt right to make you my wife with it.” he gently took your left and hand brought it to his lips, kissing it. 

Wife. His wife. That would be a thought and title you’d never tire of hearing him refer to you as. 

You blushed and looked at him as he held your hand against his lips, your smile growing, “I love you… I love you so much…” You touched his cheek gently with your left hand and brought your lips to his, slowly and deeply kissing him. 

He put his hands on your waist and slowly stood with you, wrapping his arm around you to pull you close, against him, continuing to kiss you deeply. 

After a few moments you pulled back to look at him but then looked past his shoulder, something catching your attention, seeing someone in the distance with what you think is a camera, you chuckled nervously, “Honey, who’s that?”

Joel looked behind him and smiled then waved his hand over, beckoning them to come to you guys, “I hired someone to capture this moment for you…” he looked at you then a young man came jogging up. 

“Congratulations!” he smiled brightly, shaking Joel’s hand. 

You looked at Joel and teared up, “You thought about that too?” you smiled softly.

He looked at you and then shyly to the ground, “I wanted this to be perfect… the smallest details mattered and I know how much you love having things like this documented.” he then looked up at you and kissed your temple. 

The young man smiled and cleared his throat softly, “My name is Eddie, it’s so lovely to meet you. I’ve heard so many wonderful things about you.” he took your hand and shook it, smiling softly. “I was just wondering if I could take a few close-ups of the ring. And then if you want, I can gather some of you both?” 

You nodded hearing some of what he said, feeling completely overwhelmed. You chuckled, “Sorry, I’m still in shock. You just tell me where to be and what to do.” 

He nodded and let out a light laugh, then captured some photos of the ring, some with Joel’s hand holding yours, some with your hand on his chest, and some back in the ring box. 

While he was taking some photos of the truck and scene, you stepped away somewhat with Joel, completely in your own little world, you looked up at him, still in his arms, “I can’t believe all of this, I… I don’t even think I’ve seen half of the details quite yet. How… how long have you been planning this?” you combed his hair back softly. 

He held you close by wrapping his arm around your waist and having his other hand splayed against your hip, rubbing it softly, “Officially… I got the ring at the beginning of the month but I’ve been putting the plan together since we got home from that dinner we went to.” he rubbed his nose against yours softly. 

You smiled and looked up into his eyes, blushing, biting your bottom lip, “You’re going to be my husband…” 

He chuckled softly and nodded before whispering, “And you’re going to be my wife…” then capturing your lips gently and kissing you deeply, beginning to tangle his tongue with yours. 

Eddie turned around and captured some photos of you two talking then a few of you kissing each other. He cleared his throat softly, making you and Joel shyly pull away. 

You hid your face by hiding in his shoulder. Joel chuckled and looked at Eddie, who chuckled as well and came closer. 

 “Alright you two love birds, I’m going to leave you to enjoy the moment, I’ll get you these photos within the week.” he put his lens cap on the camera. 

You turned around and smiled, “Thank you so much, you have no idea how much this means to me to have this captured. I’m so excited to see your work.” you moved forward and hugged him softly. 

He smiled and hugged you back, then pulled back and chuckled, “Congrats again. Can’t wait to see the wedding.” he winked.

You went back and settled against Joel as he pulled you in by wrapping his arms around you from behind and kissing your shoulder softly, you blushed, “We can’t either.” 

He smiled and nodded, “Ya’ll have a good night.” he began walking down the hill where you had come from. 

You smiled and looked at the truck then saw the photos wrapped around the tree and unwrapped yourself from his arms, walking up to take a closer look, studying each one, smiling at all the memories captured. 

Joel smiled watching you before he got into the bed of the truck, and opened up the picnic basket, “You hungry sweetheart?” 

You turned around and bit your lip, hiding your grin, “Starving!” you got up into the bed of the truck and sat next to him, putting the blanket he was under, over your lap as well. 

He pulled out the food he had ordered, “Thought the occasion called for something old fashioned and reliable.” he handed you a styrofoam box and then opened his as he opened yours, both had your favorite sandwiches and salads from the diner called ‘Franny’s’. 

You hummed and kissed his cheek, “Exactly what I was craving… thank you, cowboy.”

He nodded and leaned over, kissing your temple. 

You two began eating in silence for a few minutes, then you covered your mouth as you chewed, “You said this ring was in your family… how many generations does it go back?” you then leaned your head against his shoulder and looked at the ring sparkle as the fairy lights above you hit it. 

Joel ate the last bite of his sandwich before he nodded, “It goes back 3 generations, we will be the 4th.” 

You smiled, “Does this mean one of our kids gets it when they grow up? Sarah’s partner for her?”

He chuckled and shook his head, “No one gets it unless you want to give it up or I replace it.” he softly took your hand in his and tangled your fingers with his. 

You nodded and stayed silent for a moment, then giggled, “Oh shoot, this means you beat Tommy to it!” 

He joined you in chuckling and nodded, “Indeed I did…” 

You smiled softly and put your food aside then wrapped your around his bicep as he continued to eat, “You know, what’s funny is Maria and I just talked about the concept of marriage with you two today while she was trying outfits on.” you rubbed your thumb absentmindedly against his arm, looking at the view of the city slowly starting to light up as the sunset. 

“Yeah? Tommy’s talkin’ about marriage?” he hummed as he took a bite of his salad. 

You nodded and smiled, “Maybe we’ll have a double wedding…” you teased. 

Joel shook his head and chuckled, “We are not having a double wedding, my love. You’re havin’ your own damn day...” he leaned over and kissed your head. 

You smiled and blushed, nodding, “Understood.” 

“Big or small wedding?” Joel said after a few moments of silence. 

You hummed, “Define big?” 

He chuckled and leaned you both back, laying against the pillows as it started to get darker, “I think like everyone at the barbeque is big…” 

You nodded, “Big then. I want every one of those people there.” you smiled and let his arm wrap around you, moving your head to lay on his chest, hearing his heart beat at a steady rhythm. 

“What about you, what would you like?” you said softly. 

“I want a big one, everyone there that’s supported us.” he kissed the top of your head, “That or we elope with just the two of us, two witnesses and Sarah… no in-between.” he chuckled. 

You giggled, “Elope?” you moved your head to look up at him, “Goodness, you just put a ring on my finger, slow down Romeo…” you joked. 

He looked down at you and licked his lips as he looked at yours, then moved slightly, enough to move so he had access to your lips, “Can’t blame me for wanting you to be my wife sooner than later, can you?” he leaned in and captured your lips in a slow deep kiss. 

You blushed and cupped his cheek, kissing him back, gently pulling back, “No, I can’t.” you bit your lip, “I like being called your wife, has a nice ring to it.” 

He smirked and gently nudged your nose with his, “Yeah? Mrs. Miller, my wife, has a nice ring to it?” he hovered over your lips, teasing you. 

You blushed a deep shade of red and nodded, humming, “Just like calling you my husband has the same sweet ring to it.” you reached up for his lips, only for him to pull back and look down at you with eyes dark and full of lust. 

“Call me that again…” he looked at your lips, hungry. 

You grinned and took your hand that was cupping his cheek and ran it slowly down his chest, then pulled his belt loops gently, teasing him back in any way you could, you took your time and said sultry and slowly, “My husband…” 

He growled and leaned down, capturing your lips in his, kissing you deeply and slowly, both of you started to breathe heavily and excitedly. He trailed his hand down your body and brought your dress up your thighs, moving down to kiss your neck and shoulder, “Can you take this dress off for me baby?” he said against your skin, lightly biting the skin on your collarbone. 

You gasped and let out a soft moan before nodding and sitting up a little, pulling the bow that kept the top part tight and then sliding the straps off your shoulder, looking at Joel as you did this, biting your lip shyly, “Can I have my fiance help me with this part?” 

Joel sat up and kissed your shoulder as he gently put his fingers on the straps and pulled them down your body. You wore no bra so your nipples instantly perked from the chill in the air that surrounded you now. 

He continued to push it down your chest and torso, getting to your hips, he pulled his lips from your skin and looked up into your eyes, “Lay back, mi vida…” he said breathlessly.

You slowly lay down on your back and arched your back a little to accentuate your breasts when he had you lift your hips to take your dress off fully, blushing, leaning up onto your elbows, “Your turn…” 

Joel bit his lip and stared at yours as he unbuttoned his shirt and took it off, “God you’re so beautiful…” he couldn’t help but get in between your legs and connect his lips to yours in a hurried heated kiss, pushing you to lay flat on your back. 

Your hands moved to his belt as you kissed him, tangling your tongue with his as he brought his hand up to cup your cheek, to bring you closer.

He moved his lips to your jaw and then neck as your fingers pulled at his belt buckle, eventually working that to open and then unbuttoning and zipping his jeans and eagerly tugging his pants and boxers down his ass and midway down his thighs, gasping as you felt his length press up against your core, which he realized was bare, no panties, which he would have remembered if he took any off, he pulled back and kissed up your jaw, “Dime mi vida, ¿me estoy volviendo loca o no usaste bragas hoy?” (Tell me mi vida, am I going crazy or did you not wear any panties today?) he said with a strained, horse voice. 

You smirked and leaned up, kissing him once slowly and deeply then sucking on his bottom lip and pulling it as you disconnected and laid back down against the pillow and kissed his chest, trailing kisses up his neck, “No te estás volviendo loco, mi amor…” (You’re not going crazy)

He let out a deep groan and his eyes rolled back as he smirked, letting out a deep chuckle, “Mmm, you’ll be the death of me with how naughty you are, querida…” he began to grind himself through your folds, holding himself steady in between your bodies. 

You carded your fingers through the thick locks of his hair and held him against your skin as he began sucking love bites into your chest. 

After spending sufficient time marking what was his he pulled back and looked up at you, “Come ‘ere…” he leaned down and captured your lips with his, kissing you deeply and with much love and passion. He kicked his boots off of his feet and discarded his pants as well, before he lined himself at your entrance and went to push in when he pulled back, making you moan softly. 

He grinned against your lips, making you move your lips to kiss his jaw and neck, “Baby, please…” you begged, “I want you…” you gently started sucking love bites into his neck, near his pulse point, grinding your hips down to try and slip him into you with how he was perched at your entrance. 

He grunted once you started marking his neck, “Oh f-fuck…” his skin prickled with goosebumps at the sensation of your lips against his neck. 

He swallowed and gave in, slowly burying himself deep into you, making you inhale sharply, moaning, “Joel…” gripping onto his shoulder and hair, “Fuck you’re deep…” 

He stopped when he was fully in and cupped your cheek, “Eyes on me…” he panted, “Keep your eyes on me mi vida…” he put his forehead gently against yours and gripped hips gently, beginning to thrust himself in and out of you, slowly, softly grunting and groaning. 

You smiled and moaned, softly confessing, “The second you and I are married…” you gasped at a change of angle as he opened up your pelvis by putting his hand under your knee and pushing it up, cursing under your breath, lip quivering at the burst of pleasure you were feeling from this angle. 

He grinned, “Keep going, the second we’re married, what do you want my love?” he cooed as he started to slowly sped up his pace, grunting through clenched teeth. 

You panted and chuckled, “F-fuck… I…” your mind began to feel like mush as he was beating against that soft spot deep within, you began to talk in gibberish, feeling the warmth of your release starting to gather deep in your core. 

He leaned down and kissed your pulse point, “Tell me baby… talk to me…” he kissed your neck then softly nibbled on your earlobe before saying lowly, “What can I give you when I’m your husband?” 

You gripped his shoulder and held onto his hair, tugging gently as that built your climax up quickly, you arched your back and panted quickly, “Oh fuck, oh fuck… don’t stop…” you pleaded, biting your lip, whimpering. 

He gently nibbled your jawline and growled, “Mmm fuck… that’s a good girl, cum on my cock…” he felt you begin to tighten around him, he gripped onto your leg tighter to hold you there, and took his other hand, gliding it up your body to grip your nipple between his thumb and finger and gently pulling towards him. 

The coil deep within snapped and your head went back as your body arched off the bed of the truck, moaning loudly as you came around his cock, pussy pulsing and clenching as waves crashed down over you. 

Joel grinned and praised you, “That’s a good girl, you feel so good when you cum around my cock…” he kissed your chin and throat when your head was back, trailing his nose down your chest before taking one of your nipples between his lips and sucking it gently. 

You panted, chest heaving up and down as you came down from your high, combing your fingers through his hair, mumbling, “God you’re so good to me, taking care of me…” you closed your eyes and swallowed, feeling like you were floating as your orgasm settled down. 

Joel pulled away from your breast with a pop and came to meet your lips, kissing you deeply and slowly, keeping a slow but deep rhythm of his cock inside you, humming as he pulled back after a few moments of devouring your lips, “Can you tell me now what you want, mi amor?” he kissed your chin gently, panting as he started to speed up his movements. 

You looked at him and cupped his cheek, pulling him to kiss your lips in a searing passionate kiss before barely pulling back and whispering against his lips, “Quiero que me pongas un bebe…” (I want you to put a baby in me) you panted against his lips, moaning as he kissed your cervix with a deep thrust he did in response to your confession. 

He grinned against your lips, “No me tientes (Don’t tempt me), my love, I’ll do it tonight if you want it that bad.” he grunted and began to speed up his hips into your core, gripping onto your hip and leg tightly. 

You moaned as he continued to crash into you, continuing to kiss that spot and your cervix over and over, inhaling sharply, eyes rolling back in pleasure, “Don’t stop, god please… f-fuck!” you cried out in sweet pleasure, starting to grind your hips against his to create more friction in an attempt to break that coil that kept teasing you like it was going to snap. 

He grunted and he moved his hand to press against the back window of the truck to steady himself over you, “Fuck baby, fuck…” he panted, sweat lightly coating his skin as he groaned in pleasure feeling you suck him deep into your core, “God… fuck…” his eyebrows furrowed. He shut his eyes for a moment, feeling that deep pull behind his navel, before opening his eyes and smiling down at you, moving his hand off the truck and cupping your cheek, “Fuck I love you, I can’t wait to marry you… see you walkin’ down that aisle in a gorgeous dress…” he groaned feeling a warmth start to move up his spine, “I can’t wait to vow my life to you… to take care of you for the rest of our days…” he panted. His hips became erratic as he softly whispered weakly as he laid his forehead against yours, “No puedo esperar a ser tu marido y tú, mi esposa.” (I can't wait to be your husband and you, my wife.)

You leaned up and whispered, “Come for me, my love.” then reached up and kissed him deeply as he whimpered against your lips, cumming deep into you, hips stuttering, his knees giving out, chest heaving. 

He pulled back from your lips and cried out as you rocked your hips a little, milking him for everything he could give you, “F-fuck…” he leaned his head against your shoulder and chuckled softly, “God I love you…” he kissed your shoulder weakly and turned to kiss your neck. 

You softly giggled and traced your fingers on his back, tracing love letters into his skin with your fingertips as he lay against your body, humming softly. 

After a few moments, he slowly sat himself up and hissed as he took himself out of your warm core, and laid beside you, chest still heaving but slower, you leaned your head against his chest and looked up at the sky, the stars now visible and shining brightly. 

He looked up at the sky with you and after a few moments you both saw a shooting star shoot across the night sky, you gasped softly, giggling excitedly, “Quick- make a wish!” 

Joel pulled you closer in his arms and softly traced his thumb up and down your back, leaning his lips down to kiss your head, saying softly, “Don’t need a wish baby, I’ve got everything I could ever wish for right here…” 

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taglist:  @sarahhxx03, @blahkateisdone, @sunnytuliptime, @pedroscurls, @docharleythegeekqueen @pedritosgirl2000

[sweetiemiller]

MARRIED AT FIRST SIGHT. kind of.

Joel Miller!AU x Reader.

hi again! so im doing it! ive read over it a million times and if there’s any mistakes please do forgive me. but here’s the full chapter of the start of my spiteful fic lmao.

kidding. im actually really excited to try something different and being embraced by a lot of you has been so great. so thank you everyone who sent a nice word or even just liked the post!

this will probably NSFW at some point. im still deciding when and how it’ll happen in the story but it’s going to be a lot of fun. the POV’s will jump around from chapter to chapter.

thanks to @highinmiamiii sending me the fic i was looking for! thank you! like i said before this fic is heavily inspired by https://www.tumblr.com/tokkiwrites/771944052123959296/game-show-hostjoel-miller-x-contestant-f

and the enjoyment of au!writing. it’s so freeing and let’s us explore characters in different ways. everyone please go read this story, it’s so good and they deserve every single bit of support.

ill stop yappin now and just post it!!

warnings— swearing. referring to killing Tommy Miller (will happen a lot), little bit of fluff for now. future warnings to come!

enjoy—

Chapter 1.

Joel’s POV—

Tommy Miller is a dead man. Joel thinks as he promises to whoever and whatever is above and below that he will personally kill him with his bare hands.

Those same bare hands that are clasped together so tight behind his back as he stands at the top of the aisle. His eyes were boring into Tommy’s who is currently standing up from his seat in the front row with a shit-eating grin on his face.

Yeah. He’s going to kill him.

The lights and the cameras are starting to make the skin on his neck prickle. The people behind the camera’s making him feel tense as his eyes flicker around the room.

He can feel jaw ticking and clenching as his eyes keep looking around the room and catching a few of the eyes of seeing the unknown bride to be’s family are staring at him too. Looking… well, friendly enough. For now anyway.

He can see their eyes scanning him.

Up and down, up and down.

From his slightly greying hair that is just sprinkling through his thick coarse hair. Right down to the black patent dress shoes on his feet that a woman named Jane from production had brought him along with this black three piece suit.

He thinks he looks good. But—

He doesn’t really care and if he was asked to give an honest answer right at this second he’d say exactly that. However, for the first time in a long time he willing to admit that he doesn’t look that rough around the edges.

Which is good, because in about 30 seconds his new wife is about to walk down the aisle.

Not legally of course. But for the sake of the show, he’s contracted to act like it is.

26 seconds.

Why Tommy thought that signing him onto goddamn Married At First Sight he’ll never understand. But the promise of a new Harley-Davidson Sportster Iron 883 and 60% of whatever income from the promotion the construction company will get from being on the show is more than enough to go along with it.

For now anyway.

14 seconds.

He just hopes whoever you are, you’re not one of those absolutely insane people who go on reality television just to cause drama. Because he will walk, cameras and contracts be damned.

He’ll buy his own Harley.

If he’s lucky he’ll get matched with someone who wants to promote their business as well and maybe they can come to some sort of agreement about this whole thing.

9 seconds.

Because who actually goes on a television show to look for love? Who genuinely believes that anyone could even fall in love under these conditions. Cameras. TV therapists. A group full of people who are desperate for their 10 minutes of fame.

It’s just not realistic.

5 seconds.

Joel snaps out his thoughts as he spots Tommy giving him a look. A look that Joel knows means, ‘Dude’, his eyes flicker back and forward before Joel realises what he’s saying. You’re coming down the aisle—

1 second.

Joel hears the doors cracking open and the music starting as soon as his eyes meet the huge white double doors at the end of the room. His hands clenching again as he keeps his focus on the door that’s opening and revealing who he is going to be stuck with for as long as he can handle in this absolutely ridiculous situation his brother has landed him in.

He see’s you walking through the doors. And he genuinely feels his breath get caught in his throat as he see’s your face for the first time.

Your eyes almost immediately meet his as you walk into the wedding hall with who he presumes is your mother. An older woman who’s eyes don’t even attempt to look at him, focused on you.

You look nervous. Terrified even.

Which, to his annoyance, makes him feel something in his chest as he watches you slowly making your way down to him.

He has to admit to himself. You’re genuinely beautiful.

And with that thought, all of a sudden he feels himself starting to panic. He realises wasn’t really expecting to find you attractive. He was fully preparing himself to be putting on his best face and foot forward during this process. His mind focused on that moment he has his first ride of his new Harley-Davidson the entire time.

But now, he’s going to have to focus on that damn bike to stop himself from doing anything goddamn stupid.

The closer you get to the bottom of the aisle, the harder he’s having to hold back a glare that is itching to aim straight for Tommy. But he doesn’t. Because he knows his pain in the ass little brother is going to have an even bigger shit-eating grin on his face now that he’s seen you.

It’s not until you’re kissing your assumed mother on the cheek and whispering something to her that he finally see’s you up close for the first time. His eyes feeling like they’re bouncing around his head as he takes you in.

Jesus, Mary and Joseph— he’s fucked.

The hair. The eyes. The nose. The goddamn lips. The white dress.

It’s not at all what he was picturing. He was fully imagining you and expecting you to go all out and look like princess cake topper. The show is paying for everything after all.

But no, you’re dressed in a long flowing silk dress. With little cap sleeves and the front of your dress making your tits look round and soft—

He has to stop.

He opens his mouth to say something, anything. But you’re already beating him to it with the sweetest voice he’s ever heard.

“I like your suit,” you say, the words falling from your lips like they were dragged out of you. Which admittedly— is very cute.

He lets a short puff of air escape his nose as he doesn’t quite laugh but, almost an amused look crosses his face as he looks down at you.

“I like your dress,” he says back, quietly but loud enough for you to hear. Or that least he hopes you do. Because he does like your dress, he likes it a lot actually, which surprises him.

He’s not a man to even care about dresses. Or anything stupid like that. A woman is a woman, he doesn’t care what they’re dressed in. But this dress on you? He’s struggling. Badly.

He watches you blush a little as you look down at your dress, running a hand over the front of it. The silk moving under your finger tips, almost hypnotising him for a moment before your soft laugh breaks him out his trance.

“Thanks. They gave my mom free reign in the dress shop,” you say with a soft, nearly genuine smile as you jut your thumb over your shoulder towards the woman who was walking you down the aisle now sitting in the front row behind you.

Ah, so he was right.

Joel smiles a little as he nods his head at your mom, being respectful for as long as he can handle this experiment.

Oh God he’s going to have to actually interact with your family.

He looks back at you, watching as your other hand is clutching your bouquet of sunflowers so tightly he’s actually a bit worried the stems might snap in half right here.

“She has good taste,” he says as his eyes travel back up to your face. He feels something twist in his chest again as he sees how nervous you look, and before he can open his mouth to give you just a little reassurance.

Knowing that the cameras and lights are probably making you just as nervous as him, someone clears their throat. Making you jump a little as his head turns almost too quickly to the sound tensing up a little until he see’s it’s just the very real officiant for this very real wedding.

God, what is he doing?

He hears her asking the both of you if you’re ready to begin and he just nods. He looks down at you and taking the chance to grab your free hand just right there. Temping him already.

He smiles a little bit as he sees the warmth spread on your cheeks and your almost wide-eyed facial expressions looking up at him.

Beautiful. He can’t help but let the thought sit at the front of his brain for a moment.

“You ready?,” he whispers to you, his own eyes going a little wide too from how fast his heart rate is going as he tightens his grip slightly as he watches you nod and breath out a soft, yeah.

He nods back as he turns back to the wedding officiant, taking a deep breath as he tries to focus on what the woman is starting to say, her very real speech.

Oh sweet Jesus, he needs to read the vows that Tommy wrote him.

This is going to be a nightmare.

[hoelmilker]

would lick the blood off his face if given the chance

[xdarkrealityx]

New still of Joel, TLOU S2.

Excuse me Sir why are you so painfully handsome?

[pascalispimp]

Damp, Dirty, His

Summary: Joel’s been through a lot, but mysteriously damp flannels? That’s a new one. When he sneaks home to investigate, but what he finds is far filthier than he imagined. His housemate’s got a thing for his shirts… and from the way she’s moaning into one, she’s got a thing for him too. And Joel’s got every intention of making it worse.

Warnings: 18+ afab and fem reader, p in v sex, alludes to curvy reader, unspecified age gap, no description of reader but has big boobs and ass, some dubcon but she’s into it, dirty talk, no use of y/n, unsafe sex, oral (m! receiving), fingering, finger sucking, creampie, degradation, anal, praise kink, ass play

Word count: 4.2k

Joel Miller wasn’t a man who jumped to conclusions. He was a man of patience, of careful observation. Years of surviving had drilled that into him. But something wasn’t sitting right.

For the past few weeks, his flannels had been turning up… different. Damp in places they shouldn’t be. Not rain-soaked, not sweat-stained—just wet. He’d pick one up from where he left it, and the fabric would cling to his fingers, the scent of something faint but unmistakable lingering in the fibers. Something warm. Something intimate.

At first, he thought maybe the laundry had been left out too long. Maybe it was just one of those things. But it kept happening. And every time, it was one of his favorites. The ones he wore most. The ones she seemed to watch him in. His housemate.

She wasn’t careless. Wasn’t the type to spill something and not say a word. But Joel had noticed the way she lingered when he pulled on one of those flannels, how her gaze dragged over him, how she hesitated just a little too long when handing one back. He already had a feeling. And today, he was going to confirm it.

So instead of heading out on patrol like he was supposed to, Joel doubled back, moving quiet, careful. The snow crunched beneath his boots, but he knew the sounds of Jackson well enough to weave between them, to slip into his own home without so much as a whisper.

The house was still. The kind of stillness that came with someone who thought they were alone. He gently turned the knob and pushed the door open, the hinges whispering a soft protest. The warmth of the house enveloped him like a lover's embrace. His eyes adjusted to the dim light, and his gaze fell upon a sight that made his blood boil with desire and possessiveness.

And the moment he heard it—soft, breathy, a sound that hit him low in his stomach—he knew.

Her.

His flannel—his—draped over her frame, too big, the sleeves bunched around her wrists, the hem riding up as she moved. She was bent over the kitchen table, the flannel riding up to expose her round, bare ass. The shirt was too large for her, but it clung to her in all the right places, revealing her voluptuous figure, hips rolling into her own hand, her face turned into his shirt like it was the only thing tethering her to this moment.

And Christ, if that wasn’t a sight that damn near knocked the air from his lungs.

Joel exhaled through his nose, slow and deep. He should leave. Should turn around, pretend he hadn’t seen a damn thing.

But instead, he stepped closer, the floorboards groaning a little under his heavy boots. She gasped, spinning around with a start, her cheeks flushing a deep red. The flannel was open, and she had been using his shirt to muffle her moans. The sight of her, so vulnerable and caught in the act, only served to fuel his desire. He set the rifle against the wall, his eyes never leaving hers, and strode purposefully across the room.

"That why my flannels keep turnin’ up damp, darlin’?"

"Joel," she stuttered, her voice a mix of shock and arousal. "I-I can explain."

He didn't wait for her excuses. The sight of her flustered and exposed only added to the power he felt surging through him. "I don't want explanations," he said gruffly, his voice a low rumble. "I want to know why you're using my things for... that."

Her eyes widened, the pupils dilating as she took in the look on his face. It was a mix of anger and something else, something darker and more primal. She could see the tension in his jaw, the way his muscles flexed under his shirt. Joel was never one to mince words, and his directness only served to turn her on even more.

"I-I just..." she stuttered again, trying to find the words, but they were lost in the thick haze of lust that had settled over the room. The flannel fell open further, revealing her naked chest, her nipples hard with arousal. She reached for it instinctively, but Joel's hand shot out, grabbing her wrist and stopping her.

"You like wearing my shirts, huh?" he said, his voice thick with a challenge. "Let's see how you like the real thing."

With that, Joel closed the distance between them, pulling the flannel from her body. She didn't resist, instead letting out a shaky breath as his calloused hands grazed her bare skin. He tossed the fabric aside, his gaze raking over her nakedness. The sight of her made him want to conquer and claim, to show her who was in charge here.

He grabbed the back of her neck, pulling her closer until their lips almost touched. "You're playing with fire, darling," he murmured, his voice a warning and a promise. He felt her pulse racing under his fingers, her body trembling with anticipation.

Their eyes locked in a silent battle of wills, but Joel knew he'd already won. She was his for the taking, and she knew it. With a smirk that barely touched his lips, he claimed her mouth with a bruising kiss. His tongue pushed past her teeth, tasting the sweetness of her mouth as his hands roamed over her curves, leaving goosebumps in their wake. She moaned into the kiss, her body melting into his, and he knew he had her.

Breaking away, Joel stepped back, his eyes never leaving hers. "On your knees," he ordered, his voice low and demanding. She obeyed without hesitation, the submissive side of her bubbling to the surface, eager to please the dominant man before her. He unbuckled his belt and unzipped his pants, letting them fall to the floor. His erection sprang free, thick and proud, pointing straight at her plump, parted lips.

."Open," he said, and she did, her eyes never leaving his. He took a fistful of her hair, guiding his length into her mouth. She gagged slightly, but took him deeper, her eyes watering with the effort. Joel's hand tightened in her hair, controlling her movements as he began to fuck her face. He watched with a mix of pleasure and possession as she struggled to keep up with his rhythm, her cheeks hollowing with each thrust.

He could feel her submission, the way she eagerly took him in, and it only made him harder. "You like that?" he growled, his voice thick with lust. She nodded, unable to speak around his cock, and he chuckled darkly. "Good girl." He stroked her cheek with his thumb, the gesture oddly tender amidst the aggression.

Joel pulled out of her mouth with a wet pop, his cock glistening with her saliva. "You've been a bad girl, using my things," he said, his voice a teasing purr. "But I'm going to show you how to use them properly." He stepped back, grabbing a chair from the nearby table and spinning it around. He sat down, his erection still standing proud, and gestured for her to straddle him.

With trembling legs, she obeyed, her pussy wet and aching as she settled over his lap. He reached between them, stroking her clit with a rough thumb before plunging two fingers into her heat. She gasped, her nails digging into his shoulders as he began to pump them in and out, his eyes never leaving hers. The way he touched her, so rough and yet so precise, made her feel alive, like she was teetering on the edge of a cliff and only he could save her from the fall.

"Beg for it," he demanded, his voice a dark whisper that sent shivers down her spine. She bit her lip, fighting the urge to give in, but the pleasure was too much. "Please, Joel," she whimpered, her voice barely a breath. "Fuck me."

The words hung in the air, heavy with need, and Joel's control snapped like a twig under a boot. He yanked her onto his lap, the chair groaning under their combined weight. He positioned the tip of his cock at her entrance, feeling her wetness and heat against his skin. With a single, powerful thrust, he buried himself inside her, making her cry out.

Her nails dug into his shoulders, her body tightening around him like a vice. Joel's eyes rolled back in his head as he savored the sensation of her warmth. He began to move, his hips rocking into hers, each thrust punctuated by a guttural grunt. She met him stroke for stroke, her breasts bouncing with the rhythm, the friction sending waves of pleasure crashing through her body.

He leaned in, his teeth grazing her earlobe as he whispered filthy words, degrading her in the most delicious way. "That's it, take it," he growled, his breath hot against her skin. "You're such a slut for me, aren't you?" She whimpered, her body responding to his words, her walls clenching around him. He liked it when she played the brat, but now she was all his, all submission.

He could feel her climbing closer to the edge, her breaths coming in ragged pants. He reached up, grabbing one of her breasts, rolling the nipple between his thumb and forefinger. The pinch sent a bolt of pleasure through her, making her moan around his cock. He smirked, knowing he had her right where he wanted her.

Joel's other hand slid down to her ass, giving it a firm squeeze before his fingers delved between her cheeks. She gasped as he found her tight hole, teasing it with a single digit. "You're mine," he murmured, pushing into her untouched entrance. "All of you."

The sudden intrusion made her jolt, her eyes flying open. But instead of pulling away, she pushed back into his hand, eager for more. He chuckled darkly, his grip on her hip tightening as he began to fuck her with his finger, the dual sensation making her pussy clench around his cock. "So greedy," he said, his voice a low rumble. "You're going to take everything I give you, aren't you?"

Her only response was a muffled moan, her voice lost in the fabric of his shirt. Joel could feel her orgasm building, her walls fluttering around him like a caged bird desperate to fly. He leaned back, watching her face contort with pleasure, his own climax approaching like a storm on the horizon. His strokes grew faster, his hips snapping into her with a ferocity that left them both gasping for air.

He withdrew his finger from her ass, reaching around to pinch her clit as he fucked her harder. She bucked wildly, her nails raking down his back as the first wave of her climax washed over her. He felt her pussy clench, her juices flooding his cock as she screamed into the fabric of his shirt. The sound sent him over the edge, and with a roar, he emptied himself inside her, filling her to the brim.

Her orgasm was a symphony of sounds, her moans and gasps echoing through the small house. Joel held her hips firmly, ensuring she took every last inch of his release. He watched as she rode the peak of pleasure, her body shaking with the intensity of it all. When she finally collapsed against him, panting and sated, he couldn't help but feel a smug sense of satisfaction.

He kissed her neck, his breath warm and ragged against her skin. "You're mine now," he murmured, his voice thick with possessiveness. "And you're going to wear my cum as a reminder." He felt her shiver in his arms, the dirty talk only serving to excite her further.

Joel's thumb continued to circle her clit lazily, keeping her on the edge. "You liked that, didn't you?" he whispered, his voice a dark promise. "You liked being caught, didn't you?" She nodded, unable to form words, lost in the aftershocks of pleasure.

He pulled out of her with a wet sound, the head of his cock glistening with their combined juices. He stood, lifting her off his lap, and spun her around to face the kitchen counter. "Bend over," he ordered, his voice still commanding. She complied, her knees wobbly from the intense orgasm.

The cool countertop sent a shiver up her spine, and she gripped the edge, her knuckles white with the effort. Joel stepped behind her, his eyes feasting on her reddened, swollen pussy. He grabbed her hips, positioning himself again. With one swift movement, he plunged back into her, making her gasp. He was still hard, still insatiable. He began to fuck her from behind, his thrusts deep and powerful, the sound of skin slapping skin echoing in the room.

Her breasts bounced with each impact, the painful pleasure sending her spiraling back towards the edge. She could feel his grip tighten, his hands leaving bruises on her hips, and she loved it. He was claiming her, marking her as his own, and she reveled in the feeling of submission. She pushed back into him, taking him deeper, her walls clenching around his length.

"You want more?" he growled, his hand reaching around to pinch her clit again. She moaned, the sensation too much, too intense. He chuckled darkly, his teeth grazing her ear. "That's my girl." He pulled almost all the way out before slamming back into her, the suddenness of it making her cry out.

The kitchen counter was slick with their sweat and desire, their bodies moving in a dance of passion and dominance. Joel's hand reached up, wrapping around her neck, his thumb pressing lightly against her throat. The subtle hint of control sent a thrill through her, making her pussy clench around him. She pushed back, eager for the pain, for the feeling of him owning her completely.

He groaned, his hips pistoning into her with renewed vigor. The angle was perfect, hitting her g-spot with every thrust. She could feel another orgasm building, a crescendo of pleasure that threatened to shatter her into a million pieces. "Beg for it," he whispered, his breath hot against her neck. "Tell me you want it, tell me you need it."

Her voice was a desperate whine as she pleaded, "Please, Joel, please let me cum again." He tightened his grip, his thumb pressing slightly harder on her clit. "Not until I say so," he said, his voice a dark command. She whimpered, her body writhing under his control. He knew exactly how to play her, how to tease and taunt until she was begging for release.

He slowed his pace, drawing out each thrust, savoring the feel of her tightness around him. The anticipation was intoxicating, a sweet torment that made his balls ache with need. He watched in the flickering candlelight as her ass cheeks clenched with each movement, her pussy gripping his cock like a vice. The room was a cacophony of their harsh breaths and the wet sounds of their bodies colliding.

"Please," she moaned, her voice desperate. "I need it."

Joel's hand slid from her throat to her clit, his thumb circling it with the perfect amount of pressure. "You're going to come for me," he murmured, his voice a dark promise. "But not yet." He watched her body tense, her muscles tightening around him, desperate for release. The power was intoxicating, the way she trembled under his touch.

He leaned over her, his chest pressing against her back. "You're going to take it all," he breathed into her ear, his voice a seductive growl. "Every inch of me, until I say you can come." She whimpered, her head dropping forward as she tried to push back against him, her hips moving in a silent plea for more.

The room was a blur of sensation, the smell of sex and sweat mixing with the faint scent of burning wood from the fireplace. The candles cast shadows across their bodies, flickering with each thrust. Joel's hand slid down to her ass, his fingers tracing the line between her cheeks before pushing into her again. The feeling of fullness was almost too much, but she craved it, her body begging for the painful pleasure that only he could provide.

"You're so fucking tight," he murmured, his voice strained with his own climax approaching. "I'm going to fill you up until you can't take anymore."

Her eyes squeezed shut, her mouth opening in a silent scream as she felt his thumb push past the tight ring of muscle, invading her ass. The pain was sharp, but it only served to heighten the pleasure. She was lost in a whirlwind of sensations, her body no longer her own as he controlled her every movement. Joel's other hand wrapped around her hip, guiding her to move back onto him, her pussy clenching around his shaft as he pushed deeper into her.

"Look at me," he demanded, his voice harsh. She opened her eyes, her vision swimming with lust. Their gazes locked, the intensity of his stare piercing through the fog of pleasure. "You're going to come for me," he said, his thumb moving in time with his cock, pushing her closer and closer to the precipice. "Now."

Her body obeyed, her orgasm crashing over her like a tidal wave. She screamed his name, her nails digging into the wood as she came apart in his arms. Joel's own climax followed swiftly, his cock pulsing inside her as he filled her up with his seed. He groaned, his hips stuttering as he emptied himself completely.

For a moment, they remained like that, panting and spent. Then Joel pulled out, his cock slipping from her with a wet sound that made her shiver. He stepped back, watching her with hooded eyes as she slowly straightened, her legs shaking. He reached out, tracing the line of her jaw with his thumb, his touch gentle despite the roughness of his hand.

"You're mine now," he said, his voice low and possessive. "Every inch of you." She nodded, her cheeks still flushed, her breaths coming in shallow pants. "Say it," he demanded. "Tell me you're mine."

Her eyes searched his, a mix of shock and awe at the intensity of what had just transpired. "I'm... I'm yours," she finally managed to whisper, the words thick with desire. He leaned in, his mouth claiming hers in a brutal kiss, his tongue demanding entry. She melted into him, her body still trembling from the aftershocks of her climax.

Breaking the kiss, Joel grabbed her chin, tilting her head up to meet his gaze. "And don't you ever forget it," he warned, his voice a low rumble. "You wear my shirts, you take my cum. You're going to be walking around with a constant reminder of who's in charge." He smirked, watching the way her pupils dilated at his words.

Withdrawing his cock from her, Joel reached down, his thumb sliding through their mixed juices, and then back to her pussy. He pushed two fingers inside her, her walls still spasming from the aftershocks of her orgasm. She whimpered, the sensation overwhelmingly intense. He curled his fingers, hitting that spot that made her knees buckle, and began to pump his cum back into her. Her eyes rolled back in her head, her body jolting with each thrust of his digits.

"Look at me," he ordered again, his voice a gravelly whisper. She forced her eyes open, meeting his fiery gaze. "You're going to wear this," he said, pulling his fingers out and holding them up, glistening with their combined release. "Every drop." He brought his hand to her mouth, and she obeyed without question, licking and sucking her taste from his skin. He watched with a dark satisfaction as she swallowed, her eyes never leaving his.

With a grin that didn't quite reach his eyes, Joel leaned in, his breath hot against her cheek. "Now, tell me how much you liked being caught," he said, his voice a sinful purr. She blushed, but the brat in her couldn't resist a little sass. "I liked it," she admitted, her voice a mix of defiance and arousal. "But maybe next time, you could be a bit more... creative with your punishments."

Joel's eyebrow shot up, and he stepped back, his cock still semi-hard and glistening. "Is that a challenge, darling?" He grabbed the flannel she'd been wearing earlier, now discarded on the floor, and wrapped it around her trembling body. "Because I've got plenty of creative ways to keep you in line."

Her heart skipped a beat at the promise in his words. "Maybe," she replied with a smirk, her voice still breathless from her recent climax. "But I'm not promising to be good."

Joel chuckled darkly. "That's what makes it fun," he said, his eyes glinting with amusement. He pulled her closer, his cock brushing against her stomach. She could feel it thickening again, a testament to his insatiable desire. "But for now," he murmured, "we should clean up before I have to be back out on patrol."

The water was cold when Joel turned on the faucet, but it did nothing to cool the heat that still lingered between them. He grabbed a cloth, soaking it before gently cleaning her up. The tender act was a stark contrast to the raw passion they'd just shared, and she found herself leaning into his touch, craving the comfort he offered. When he was done, he tossed the cloth aside and picked her up, carrying her to the bedroom.

He laid her down on the bed, his eyes raking over her naked body. He was still dressed, a stark reminder of the power dynamic they'd just established. "You're going to be the death of me," he murmured, his voice thick with lust. She couldn't help but giggle, the sound light and airy in the tension-filled room.

The bed dipped as he climbed onto it, his weight pressing down on the mattress. He hovered over her, his hand sliding up her thigh, his thumb brushing against her still-sensitive clit. She gasped, her body reacting instantly. He chuckled, the sound dark and seductive. "I can see you're eager for more," he said, his voice a tease.

He leaned down, his mouth capturing hers in a kiss that was both punishing and gentle. His tongue danced with hers, tasting the lingering flavor of their passion. When he pulled away, she was left panting, her eyes glazed with lust. "But I've got patrol," he murmured against her skin, his lips moving to her neck. He bit down, not hard enough to draw blood, but enough to make her moan. "You're going to have to wait for it."

Her hands found his shoulders, her nails digging in as she tried to pull him closer. "Please, Joel," she begged, her voice needy and desperate. He chuckled, his teeth grazing her earlobe. "You're insatiable." He kissed her again, his hand sliding down to cup her breast, his thumb teasing the nipple until it was a hard peak. "But I like that about you."

With a final groan of protest, Joel rolled off the bed, his cock still semi-erect. "I'll be back," he said, his voice a promise. "And when I do, you'd better be ready for me." He strode to the bathroom, the muscles in his back flexing with each step. She watched him go, her body still trembling from the aftermath of their encounter.

The cold water from the sink brought Joel back to reality, the chill a stark contrast to the heat of his desire. He washed his hands, taking a deep breath to compose himself. He couldn't believe he'd just taken her like that, in the kitchen of all places. But the sight of her in his flannel, her face flushed with arousal, had driven him over the edge.

Wiping his hands on the towel, he returned to the bedroom, his eyes devouring her again. She lay there, a mess of tangled limbs and desire, the flannel barely covering her curves. He couldn't resist leaning down to kiss her, his hand caressing her cheek. "I'll be back soon," he whispered, his voice hoarse. She nodded, her eyes still glazed with passion.

Joel pulled on his patrol gear, his mind racing with thoughts of her. The way she'd looked at him, the way she'd taken him, it was all he could think about. He had to get out there, had to focus on the job at hand, but she was a siren's call he couldn't ignore.

He stepped out into the cold night, the chill air slapping him in the face, a stark contrast to the heat they'd generated in the kitchen. The patrol was quiet, his mind wandering back to her, to the way her body had responded to his every touch. He found himself smiling, a rare occurrence in this post-apocalyptic world.

Hours ticked by, the moon casting eerie shadows across the deserted town. Joel's thoughts remained fixated on her, his cock twitching at the memory of her moans and whimpers. He'd never felt such a potent mix of lust and tenderness before, and it unnerved him.

When Joel finally returned home, the house was quiet, the only sound the crackling of the dying embers in the fireplace. He shed his gear, stripping down to nothing but his skin, his cock already hard with anticipation. As he padded silently towards the bedroom, his eyes fell on her, sprawled out on the bed, her chest rising and falling with deep, even breaths. She looked so peaceful, so innocent, but Joel knew the fire that burned within her, the desire that she kept hidden.

With a smirk playing on his lips, he stepped into the room, the floorboards creaking beneath his weight. She stirred, her eyes fluttering open to find him standing over her, naked and gleaming with sweat. He leaned down, his hand trailing up her thigh, his breath hot against her ear. "Are you ready for more, darlin'?" he whispered, his voice a dark promise.