#last of us smut

[pedge-page]

Ok can I request something maybe out there. but sedation kink with doctor Joel. like I’m kind of into the idea of doctor/scientist prepping me for an exam or study and putting me under, reassuring and stroking my face because I’ve never been under anesthesia before and he wipes my few tears as I drift off. then he’s fondling me, putting my legs in stirrups, and observing my reactions to different stimuli like fingers, a brush, vibrator, mouth, putting cooling/tingly cream on my nipples/clit, etc., as I’m out and making notes and taking polaroids of my reactions like little twitches and noises, how wet I get, if my nipples react (if he can make me cum by just my nipples) edging me and im making little tired whines but eventually making me cum a few times while I’m out and he’s just watching what happens from down there and talking into his little mic that’s recording all this. then if I start to come to too early he tuts and asks if I want to stay under and I’m still out of it but drowsily say yes because I’m confused but feels good and he (safely) gives me some a little bit more of sedation just enough to keep me in that floaty place and starts fucking me so good that I actually come to while he’s inside and I fully come to as he’s removing the monitors and telling me how good I was for him and asking if it felt good and he’s giving me some water and kissing me telling me it’s okay to sleep because I’m still tired as he cleans me up so he can take us both home.

A Doctor’s Care

Doctor!Joel Miller x F!Reader

Nonny, you practically wrote this yourself. Please give yourself a massive pat on the back, because this was a fantastic idea. I've been foaming at the mouth about it for months (I'm so sorry It took so long!) Hope you're still around to read this!

Warnings : virgin!Reader, corrupt!doctor, corruption kink, sedation kink, non-con, oral, throat fucking, squirting, sex toys, nipple play, unprotected sex, kinda DDDNE-ish , groping, slight breeding kink, pussy pronouns, foot fetish, uhhhh please lmk if I'm missing anything

18+ ONLY

- - - -

“Now, you can start counting up to ten.”

You take a deep breath, trying you best to ignore the needle he had just inserted into your arm. “One, two, th-three, fooour, f-fi…”

He softly brushes your smoothed cheek, watching as your eyelids sag, the heavy lure of sleep washing over your entire body. Your muscles sink into the bed, eyes barely being able to close fully. You had never felt more relaxed. Up to this point, you were an axnious mess, but you knew you were in the good, trustworthy hands of Doctor Miller.

A stray tear wells up, threatening to spill. He smiles warmly and brushes it away for you. He doesn’t want to see you cry when you don’t even know why.

If you were a little more observant, you would have questioned why it was only Dr Miller moving forward with an anesthesia-induced operation. Typically there’s always more than one practitioner in the room. You would have wondered why nobody else was in the hospital at all.

 He told you he could make a special booking for your physical exam, just the two of you, to help alleviate any anxiety about the scary aura of a hospital, the sick people roaming around and watching, peeping in through the doors. He made sure you were the only one here today, to help you get comfortable and have nothing to worry about.

Of course, it is Sunday. Nobody operates on Sunday. The hospital was completely empty save for his office and this room.

Not only is this out of standard procedure, this was off the books.

This was illegal, and you had no idea.

“Dr. Miller, log 47,” he says into his little recorder. “Patient is sedated fully. Heartrate and breathing—“ he gently hovers his fingers rigor below your nose, his eyes scanning the beeping monitor next to you—“ normal and stable. Beginning examination.”

Maybe, if you were smart, you would have also questioned why you needed to be sedated for a basic physical exam. You didnt ask what a physical really entailed, which gave him the perfect excuse for... well. This.  

Joel had offered you some privacy before where he left his office to allow you to change your day clothing into the sterile gown. Such gentlemanly, professional attitude is tossed out the door as he doesn’t hesitate to unfasten the front, popping the buttons off one by one. He starts at your chest, exposing the silk smooth curve of your breasts. “Beautiful, healthy body,” he breathes. Every entimeter of your skin is observed closely. He continues, making his way down to your stomach, admiring your naval with his thick hand petting softly over your belly and unbuttoning down your hips. “I can already see excellent shape for reproduction, should she choose…”

He grins, now having you fully exposed to him under the bright light. Joel places his recorder in his chest pocket, leaving the mic on so he can continue to do his work with both steady hands.

“Fuck me,” he groans, the tent in his slacks already pressing against the cool metal table under you. He adjusts himself slightly, no concern for the perversion of his hard cock jutting out in the open as he brushes it against your legs and arms while circling you.

Dr. Miller was a practiced man. He'd lifted enough unconscious body parts throughout his career, being careful yet precise. It took him no time to hoist your legs into the cradled bend of the stirrups, spread wide and slightly elevated so that your core was exposed.

“Testing reactivity,” he says before pressing your feet with his thumbs. He massages your arch, feeling the tendons shift and resist. His lips ghost the ball of your foot. "Smooth here too. The skin of the feet haven't started callousing yet." Joel’s wet tongue glides along the crevice, thick and warm, before sucking on your toes, lubricating them with his tongue over and over again. He moans, closing his eyes and palming his bulge. You don’t seem to stir at all, but he does briefly catch the way your eyeballs shift underneath your lids, brows drawing then releasing.

He pushes the stirrups forward more, hands on the backs of your thighs until your knees are bent, as if ready to birth.

“Very healthy looking patient below the waist. I’ll need to taste more—test more before the insertion.”

Joel shifts along your side, and with no hesitation, grasps your tits roughly. He scrunches and squeezes tightly, pushing your nipples out until they’re hardened and swollen. He loves the way they feel in his big palms. It was last week when you let him do a breast exam, he was able to fondle them to his liking. He wanted to give them a taste then, but knew you weren’t ready for that.

Consciously, anyway.

A hot month descends upon your breast, and he glances up once again to see your reaction. He rolls your nip around and around before biting lightly. That receives a flinch. He smiles, sucking harder. They’re so warm and firm in his mouth, and he can’t help but suckle along them with fat suctioning sound each time he releases. “Very good potential for milk. Bet she’d make the sweetest milk.” He draws away, grabbing something from the table next to him. “Documenting …” he dabs some freezing cream directly onto your nipple and snaps a picture when your head jolts in surprise. Little sounds get lodged in your throat as he rubs it into your skin, kneading your mounds like dough. “Pretty thing…” he whispers seductively. 

He alternates between his hot mouth and the cold cream, watching your head toss slightly here and there. Your heartrate had also picked up, beeping a little more fervently. Nothing major, but a few beats per minute quicker than before. 

“We’re gonna stress her breathing next,” he sighs, moving up above your head. He feels your collar bone, working his hands up along your esophagus and underneath your neck. Pressing slightly to watch how much further your chest expands for air to ensure you’re still adjusting breath properly. 

Dr Miller unzips his trousers, his hard length falling free and slapping your forehead. He chuckles lazily, rolling it over and over, his tip nudging your nose and closed eyes. You’re so compliant like this. Not even a peep of protest as he nestles his balls overtop your sockets and pushes his head against your soft lips. 

“Seeing how well she can take …foreign objects…obstructing the jugluar.”

He presses in, your lips parting of their own accord to accomodate the intruder. “Ughhh,” he growls. His hands splay along the table, inching himself forward with a roll of his hips. Your jaw opens wider, forced to take the growing girth of his member. A strangled noise hiccups in your throat, and he immediately draws out. The monitor by your side beeps loudly before returning to a regular pace.

He aligns himself again and fucks your mouth, this time further than before until the mushroom tip is bulging in your throat.

“Ahhhhhhhhhhh,” he moans heavenly. He pulls out, lets you breathe, then forces it deeper.  Again and again until you’re taking him for five seconds at a time, deeper and deeper, the table rattling with his incessant humps. “Fuck..you take that, swallowing my cock like a princess, you take cock so good little slut.”

He thrusts in and out until he’s on the verge of cumming. Slipping his cock out the final time, he grips the base, growling to keep his orgasm down. He’d been thinking about it a long time, where he’d defile you last with his seed. As tempting as your tight throat was, he knew there was better ways to make you his confidential patient, forever and always. 

Your vital signs were steady again, although more elevated than you started. Your head twitched to the side slightly, eyeballs rolling under your eyelids. Your body can sense something is happening externally, but cannot rouse itself to intercept. 

He smiles, stroking your spit stained cheeks. “You’re doin’ very well, sweet pea.” its one of his favorite things about these types of exams. Watching how much a patient's instinct tries to fight his ministrations. Yet failing under the sedation and trusting senses of its owner.

For the next hour, Dr. Miller plays with your body. He’s inserted a bullet vibrator up your vaginal walls, controlling its speed and intensity on the little device. With each change in setting, your body reacted differently. Your hips bucked involuntarily, head swayed side to side. Hums of pleasure bubbled in your chest and out your nose, straining to make a coherent noise. He watched, spreading your folds so your little clit was perfectly on display. She throbbed, swelling to an engorged state. So vibrantly colored, filled with blood as he sets her nerves ablaze. 

He’d press his warm lips to her before patching it with a cubed ice. Your body didn’t like that, stomach tensing and knees wanting to lock. He had to get the stirrups tightened around your calves to keep you spread open for him. 

“That’s my girl,” he whispers quietly against your thigh, his plush lips ghosting the inside. He’s left his mic on recording, giving himself the freedom to savor your goosebumps for himself. 

Dr Miller circled around you again, viewing your exposed chest. Your nipples were stiff, and he makes note about how erect they’d become since starting your test. He presses his mouth there, his fingers dancing south to come in contact with your drooping pussy. He’s got a little cup underneath your butt, to capture any of your juices that might leak from his ministrations. For extra (taste) testing in the future.

With his mouth on your breast and three fingers rubbing your clit in clockwise motion, Joel suckles and fingers you with deadly precision.

 “Trying to make the patient—“ his tongue circles over your nipple thrice before nipping at your nipple, sucking it to a point—“reach climax.” 

He spanks your pussy, rewarding himself with a quiver from your body. “That’s it babygirl, you feel that?” He slaps it again, your body jolting, but his teeth sink further into the flesh of your boob to keep your chest in place.

He removes his hand entirely, focusing solely on sucking your tits. There’s a little device wedged inside you, not unlike the bullet vibrator, but this one can sense contractions. It connects to a monitor across the room, recording the pulses inside your pussy.

“That’s it—I see it—she’s working up to it—“ he sucks harder on your tits, swallowing his own saliva, eyes desperately strained to see your cunt reflected back on him on the TV and the matching pulses growing next to it.

The lines reach their heightened point, and your body wreathes appropriately as you cum. Your poor little cunny, contracting around nothing as you orgasm from his tongue on your breasts alone. 

“I want to see if I can just—“ he slips his hand back down to your pussy, diving three fingers in at once and rapidly squelching upward towards that gummy part inside. 

Suddenly, you let out an audible yelp, knees folding inward as liquid gushes from your opening. 

“Oohhhh yes, that’s a good girl, that’s a good girl!” He praises, smirking as you continue to squirt all over his palm and splash onto the floor. The fucking cup wouldn’t capture all of it, an he’d have to really clean up. But he wasn’t expecting such promising results. 

“She’s well hydrated for sure.”

By the way you shake your head, eyes starting to peep over, it doesn’t seem like you knew you could squirt either.

“Shhhh,” he hums, putting his palm over your eyes to block the light. “Rest now, you’re in good hands. Do you want to keep sleeping?” He glances over at the IV bag, already dripping another extra droplet into your system. “You’re so warm and safe here. Let’s rest a little more.”

You let out a sigh, eyes closed and nodding slightly before falling to the side, back into a deep state of unconsciousness.

How pathetic you can’t even tell your lower half is soaking wet of your own doing.

He makes his way back to stand between your legs, kicking away the little rolling stool. 

“See how well this pussy takes a real poundin.’” He pumps his shaft along your slick entrance, dabbing it repeatedly and grinning at how wet it sounds. He’d been edging himself this whole time. Not just this evening, but the entire few months he’s been you ever doting, caring, overly invested doctor, waiting to get you right here, spread out for him.

“She’s still so soft, so tight,” he gulps with a pant. Your chest was inflating up and down more quickly, so he knew you could feel something happening. “You’re doin’ great, baby. Just—just a little more—“

He notches the tip along your weeping hole. “She’s so patient for me.” He wonders if you’ll feel this in the morning when you wake.

Sliding in the first inch, Joel opens his jaw in silent prayer, head tilted back towards the ceiling. He pushes in again, feeling the first bit of resistance from your walls. Shit, he knew you were a virgin. You had marked it embarrassingly during one of the first appointments where he intimately needed to know all your sexual activities. You’d admitted having masturbated, which he encouraged as healthy, though the truth was so that he wouldn’t have to try too hard to stretch you out at this exact moment. Luckily he had loosened you up pretty well with his fingers and tongue this good hour, so when the good doctor pulls out then thrusts half his length in one go, you can’t offer any more rebellion to it.

When he finally bottoms out, he lets out a satisfied whimper. His cheek turned upright into a selfish, wicked grin. “Fuck, your pussy looks so good around my cock,” he says loudly, taunting the fact that you couldn’t retort even if you could hear him properly. He hasn’t had any relevant, professional notes to take for a long while now, instead resorting to little ‘fuckfuckfuck’s as he thrusts his hips in and out of your now loosened cunt. 

He reaches for the wand vibrator, switching it on and positioning it right at your clit, against the base of his dick. Its whirs to life, making your whole body contract in on itself.

“Auuggghhhh fuck yeah—fuck that’s it sweet girl—just feel that—feelin’ it so good.” He continues to fuck you open, biting his tongue and watching you shift with each rut into your unconscious body. Your eyelashes flutter, instinct fighting to get you awake. Jesus he wants it—wants you to wake up right fucking now, see what he’s doing to you. The way your eyes would float, confused, coming into focus as the trusted doc is battering your once pure insides in the name of your health. 

You didn’t know he’d already been fired and relocated from 6 different hospitals across the country for this exact reason. Granted, most anyone could report was inappropriate behavior and groping. He’d have his way with girls like you, in this exact position before. If anybody ever fully caught on to this, he’d be strung up in jail by now.

Whines bubble up from your chest as he gropes your tit with one hand, swirling the wand around your nub with the other. It takes a few minutes of on and off before he feels you clenching around him and cumming. Your back arches slightly, gasping through your mouth. He has to steady himself with his hands flat on either side of the observation table, hunched over and ramming into you while you’re still squeezing the fuck out of him. He likes the way your juices splash down his thighs and balls with each puncture. He’s a good doctor though, making sure you wouldn’t bleed or tear throughout this rough ordeal. He’s a proper man when it comes to his practice.

“Shit, shit—babydoll—fuckyeah this pussy—I’m not gonna be able to give this one up--“ He hums to himself, eyes shut.

You barely register the fact that you’re coming to. Your eyes are slitted but the tunnel vision is still so strong. Foggy and muffled, you can feel your body moving but can’t bring your muscles to do anything about it.

“D-J-oel,” you rasp, eyes fluttering close again as you definitely feel something deep within your stomach. You’re still so out of it, half your senses fading and drawing while being stimulated, unable to fully reach your brain. Your body is screaming to wake up though despite the tempting lull back to sleep. So you open your eyes again, rollin them around you. Your vision becomes clearer, still blurring but able to make outlines and lights now. Still in the hospital, still with the bright lights, still with Doctor Miller—

Doctor Miller, standing between your spread, naked legs with his wet, hard and long cock disappearing in and out of you. Doctor Miller, cursing and staring at where your bodies join, oblivious to your aroused state. Doctor Miller, telling you sweet words like how he’s gonna take you home, he’s gonna keep you like this till you’re full of him, then he's really gonna watch you grow, none of it really making coherent sense to you at the moment.

But there is that feeling inside, deep within your core that’s growing. Everything feels so wet and hot at the same time. He’s incessantly rubbing something delicious, electrocuting your nerves to an awakened state so far more than anything else.

You let out a strangled moan, and his head shoots up, watching you roll your neck and look around. Your sounds get louder, jaw flexing to let them loose.

He's been caught, and he doesn’t stop. “Fuck-fuck babygirl that’s it—M’takin real good care of ya—watch…watch me…watch me when ya cum—“ he groans, gripping your hips and slamming into you almost abusively. 

“Ah-ah-ah-ah!” You wail, unable to tear your limited vision away from him as he ruts like a dog in heat, his hips humping your ass. 

He lets out a startled bark, stilling inside you all the way. That makes your eyes fly wide open, more awake now than before as you start to cum around him. You don’t know what’s happening, don’t understand it and yet your body only knows pleasure, and that’s what your brain releases all over your insides and out. He’s so warm inside, filling you with something hot and sticky. 

There’s a thin sheen of sweat on you, and even greater on him. He pulls out, mummuring some  praise at your pearly, pulsing slit. Your heart is pounding, but body exhausted, like you’d been at this for a while now. You can’t move your head, and your eyes feel heavy once again.

“Hey, hey,” he coos softly next to you. He cups your face in his big hands, bringing you to look at him. “Hey there, angel. How we feeling? You did amazing.”

He feels gentle, touching your fuzzy spots all over again like honey. “Mmm,” you nod. 

He smiles, beginning to turn off the monitors and unhook you from the sensors. “Did such a great job for me, never had a patient as good as you.” He kisses your forehead, long and comforting. now with the needle out, you still feel drowsy, but with his reassuring words and touches, you don’t feel the need to get up any time soon.

“Here, drink this—“ he hands you a little platic cup of water with a straw. You take a few sips, suddenly feel a massive, near painful pressure in your throat, like something had been lodged there not long ago. Coughing slightly, you give him back the cup, falling back against the headrest.

“Shhh, it’s okay. No need to fight it. You can keep resting.” He kisses you on the lips, silencing any protest. Your brain still feels so floaty, you don’t even question the way his tongue swipes along your teeth. You don’t care, enjoying the way he’s treating you so well after the procedure. He makes you feel safer than ever.

“Gonna clean you up now. Take you home.”

Of course, you don’t think about it, as he makes you feel so at home now. You quickly fall back asleep. Joel wheels you out of the room, down towards his un-registered truck and into the back where he whisks you away to your very new, very permanent, very secluded "home." 

- - - -

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[yeollie-plz]

Watch It Spark | LTF Part: 2

mbf! Joel Miller x F! Reader

Part 1

Synopsis: Your mom moves the two of you back to Texas and attempts to reignite an old flame. What will happen when she learns his candle now burns for you?

Genre: fluff, angst, and smut! the trifecta!

Warnings: divorced parents, mentions of cheating, no Sarah, no outbreak, drinking, age gap (reader is said to be in college but Joel's exact age isn't stated), Tommy's a bit of a sleaze, kissing, 18+ content, p in v sex, (un)protected sex!, lots of different sexual acts, cursing, light breeding kink mention, cockwarming?

All gif credits to owners!

A/N: Sorry this took so long! I don't wanna make excuses but on top of being super busy, I also had severe writer's block. But! Here she is! Just in time for Pedro's birthday!!!

"Shit." Joel's voice sounded out behind you.

Turning, incredulously to him, "Shit? That's all you have to say?" Not even sure what to say yourself.

"I'm sorry baby, but I don't know what else to say. I think shit actually might be the perfect sentiment in this situation." There's a bit of playfulness laced in his voice as he crosses the room to you. But the fun drops as he locks eyes with you, grabbing your hands while rubbing the backs of them with his thumbs in a comforting gesture.

"Are you okay?"

Not sure what else to do, you nod.

"I mean it was inevitable, I just didn't think she would find out like this. Thought maybe I'd be able to ease her into it...maybe...I don't know."

Joel nods as you speak, “You’ll figure it out and she’ll come around, I’m sure. Whatever happens though, I’m right here.”

When you don’t say anything, Joel uses two fingers lift up your chin so your eyes now meet his. You see the certainty in them and he repeats, “I’m right here.”

With the mood ruined, Joel returned home to let you mull over your plan. It felt weird. How do you explain to your mother that you are currently dating her crush? Not something you had on your bingo card that's for sure.

That night you paced back and forth in your room until about 11 o'clock when you decided you just couldn't take the turmoil anymore. Your mom hadn't returned home. So instead of continuing to sit in your torment, you forced yourself to go to bed.

And when you awoke in the morning, there still was no sign of her. Sighing as you closed the door of her bedroom, you dragged yourself down to the kitchen. Your one last hope was that you could put together some grand breakfast for her and it would somehow lure her home. I mean she had to come home eventually anyway, right? She might as well come home to a yummy breakfast.

So there you were sitting alone at the table with a plethora of food laid out in front of you. Not wanting to eat without her, you sat there waiting. Now, almost an hour later, the food turned cold and the house was still empty. Sighing, you pushed yourself out of your chair, made a quick plate and popped it in the microwave to heat up.

As the time ticked down, you leaned against the counter watching it spin like it would make it go faster. The microwaved beeped to signal its end and that's when the front door swung open.

Abandoning the food once again, you rushed into the living room. Your mom's eyes locked onto you immediately as you crashed into the room. Her body visibly tensed up as she sighed at your presence.

"I-I made you breakfast." You rushed out before she could leave or you lost your nerve.

"Breakfast?" Venom dripped from her voice as she repeated your words.

Snapping your mouth shut, you gulped, trying to think of what to say. That's when she sighed again and closed her eyes, pinching her nose bridge as she tilted her head to the side.

"Sweetie, I'm not mad, but I'm also not happy-"

"-I know you liked him, it's just-" You cut her off, your words coming out quick, laced with your nerves. She held up her hand, to cut you off back.

"Let me talk, because honestly I don't want to hear anything from you right now." Another sigh, this time like she was preparing to give a speech, she was. "You got so hurt last time and with your father and I, I'm just scared for you. Sure, I liked Joel but it was never more than an infatuation. I'm not mad because he was never mine to get mad over. You know the night him and Linda dropped me off?"

You nodded in conformation, she continued, "I actually tried to kiss him that night." She laughs at her own stupidity. "He dodged it, playing it off like nothing happened. I'm sure he just didn't want to embarrass me by blatantly telling me he was in a-" A pause as she looks you up and down, tongue running across her front teeth. "-relationship."

You pulled your lip between your teeth as you listened to her speak. How could she be taking this so well? You were way too used to young people drama. People like your mom and Joel knew how to communicate their feelings. Honestly, it was relieving.

"Kind of weird to admit I almost kissed my daughter's boyfriend." Your mom says with anguish. Her face scrunching up in disgust as if she didn't find him attractive just days before.

She lets herself relish in this thought for a second, before continuing again, "I just hope you are keeping yourself safe. I know I already gave you the responsible talk but this is different. I just don't want to see you hurt like the last time."

You took a second to process her words. She didn't care who you were with, she just cared that you didn't go through what you did before. It warmed your heart and relieved a lot of the pent up stress.

"Mom, this time is different. Joel he, uh, he told me himself. I actually told him what happened." Your mom knew this was big for you to tell someone about the whole cheating thing and when you told her that, she visibly relaxed.

A smile graced her lips as she made her way over to her. She held your cheek in her head. You relaxed into the touch, closing you eyes in relief.

"You're happy with him, I can tell. So like I said I'm not mad. A little sad I missed my chance but there will always be someone else. He's good for you, I'm sure of it."

You smiled at her and leaned in to peck your forehead before wrapping you into her arms and holding you tightly. Her body heat radiating you with all the love only a mother had for her child. She pulled away a bit later, holding you at arms length.

"Although, the age difference is a bit much. That one took me a minute to get over." Laughs laced her voice as she spoke.

"I know, took me a bit to accept the initial attraction too but he's just so..." Your voice trailed off, unsure of what to say. She only smiled to this and nodded.

"I understand, that's how I felt about your father when I met him too." A sad smile now formed as she looked down and you knew she was thinking about how it had turned out for her and him. Now it was your turn to comfort her as you rubbed your hands down her arms.

She shook the thoughts out of her head and sucked back the tears that were pricking her eyes. "Okay! Now, tell me everything. How you guys met! The first date! I want to hear everything."

Letting her drag you to the couch while laughing uncontrollably at her excitement. The rest of the day the two of you could not stop talking as you told her everything.

After hours of chatting, your mom finally called it a night. All but pushing you out the door to go see Joel. Mumbling something about how he must be on the edge of his seat. You giggled at her antics, it was almost unbelievable how quickly she had gotten over it and was now your number one supporter.

So now you found yourself knocking at Joel's door. When he opened it there was a small look of shock on his face.

"Wasn't expecting you to be over so soon, sugar." He said as he pulled you into a quick hug. Breathing in his scent for a second, you sighed, content.

"It went better than expected." Your words were muffled by his chest since you refused to release yourself from his grasp. Not like Joel was complaining.

"Good, I'm glad." He spoke into your hair before placing a soft kiss there. A second more of holding you before Joel is pushing you out to arms length. He searches your face for a second before bringing his lips to yours.

The kiss is slow, like he is learning the feel of them for the first time. It makes you putty in his hands. The stress that somehow was still all pent up inside of you, now finally melting away.

You felt safe. You felt loved. Joel was home for you and in that moment you knew that this was real. Joel was real.

And that night as you settled into his bed and into his arms everything in your past seemed to fade away. It was only you and him.

Smiling into his chest, you fell into a deep slumber.

The morning sun shining through the curtains of Joel's room woke you up. Reaching to the other side of the bed, you find nothing but cold sheets. Confusion washes for you for only a second in your half-awake state, until you hear the steady beat of shower water coming from the connected bathroom.

You take a second to lay in the silence, just listening to the drops of the water. Before an idea pops into your head and you are smirking to yourself.

Pushing off of the bed, you make your way into the bathroom, shredding off pieces of clothes as you go. Joel seems unaware of your presence so you are careful not to scare him too bad as you slide the shower curtain down the rod just enough for you to slip in.

He only jumps a bit as your arms wrap around him. Turning in them to face you.

"Hello." He says to you when his eyes meet yours.

"Hi." You whisper back, pulling him in closer to you, your head now resting on his chest. He lets out a light chuckle while rubbing your back in soothing circles.

To ensure you don't fall, you shift slightly on the wet surface. This causes Joel to let out a soft grunt, his now hardening member brushing against your thigh. It causes you to smirk and pull away, looking up at him.

"I barely hugged you and you're already this excited?" You question.

Something between a chuckle and a grunt passes through his lips, "Not my fault that you came in here all naked. It's human nature, baby." A pause while he drops his head down so his lips can brush your ear, "Remember when I said I wasn't as old as I seemed."

He nips your earlobe after speaking, an action that sends a rush down your spine. Heartbeat speeding up as he continues to breath right next to your sensitive skin, goosebumps popping up despite the warmth of the shower water.

He trails kisses down from your ear, across your chest, and up your neck. One kiss to your jaw, one to each cheek, one to your forehead, before pecking your lips. Pulling away way too soon for your liking as you try and chase his lips with your own.

Now Joel is smirking seeing how desperate you already are for him after making fun of him only moments before. Yet he decides that neither of you really need the teasing so early in the morning so his reserve goes out the window and he's connecting his lips to yours.

The kiss is slower than usual, the intensity not fully there since both of you only just woke up. It is slow, yet passionate. Your lips meet like they were meant for each other. Tongues only barely fighting each other as neither of you really wanted to take dominance of the situation.

And as Joel's fingers slowly make there way down the middle of your stomach, finding your sensitive bud soon after, yours are wrapping around his waist and pulling him even closer to you. You gasp as his fingers move your clit in slow methodical circles. The feeling makes your legs weak, but you quickly recover when you remember where you are and how easily you could fall.

The thought almost makes you laugh but that is also quickly forgotten when the finger that was just working your clit, makes its way into your folds, testing your entrance. It seems like Joel contemplates if you are ready for a second so you keen towards him a bit to egg him on. That's when his finger finally enters you, working its way in and out of you in time with his lips on yours.

Your hands now find their way in between his legs. You try to stroke his dick in the same pace as his fingers in you, but your brain has become a bit foggy. This only gets worse when Joel begins quirking his fingers inside of you in an attempt to find that particular spot inside of you.

"Come on baby, you know you want to give in." He says into your lips. The words come out almost desperate and the gruff nature of his voice has you melting. If you were an ice cube you would be down the drain already.

"I just want you inside of me. It's too early for all your teasing." Your words are now the ones that are desperate, as you fully grip his cock and stroke it quickly trying to urge him closer to wanting to fuck you.

He laughs at your actions and pushes your hands off of him, fingers also retreating from their still steady pace inside of you. Grabbing your hips with such careful hands, so careful that you almost question if this is the same man. Usually so rough with you that you are sure that even his callouses could leave marks.

Flipping you around he bends you at the hips and pushes you towards the wall, careful not to let the two of you fall. Your hands make contact with the cold tile and if you weren't so gone you would've pulled them away instinctually.

That's when he leans over you and whispers into your ear, "I'm going to fuck you now, but the way I want to. Nice and slow. One sound and I stop, understood?"

You open your mouth to answer, but snap it closed and nod instead.

"Good girl." Joel kisses the bit of jaw he can reach before he is standing back up straight.

One hand finds your waist and pulls you back into him. Your hands almost slip from the wet tile that is holding you up, but you recover. Just in time for the tip of his dick to tease your entrance.

Joel gathers the your wetness and strokes it down his member, covering it in preparation to enter you. When he is satisfied with his job he pushes his tip past your folds. Very slowly he enters you. And after what feels like an eternity he bottoms out inside of you.

The feeling has you gulping down a gasp that is threatening to leave your lips. Sure Joel has fucked you pretty much every which way, but there is something about right now that you are finding it so much harder to follow instructions. You just want to let him know how good he makes you feel.

And before you can fully let this thought circulate, Joel is pulling out of you painstakingly slow. The type of slow that almost hurts but also fills you with so much pleasure that you could forget your own name.

This is how he continues, this slow, painful pace. In and out of you. All the way from tip to base, each action feels like it could be a full minute of white hot pleasure. Joel holds your orgasm over your head like a pig with a carrot on a stick. Kept on a tight leash, with your lips also kept shut tight.

You're not sure how he is holding himself back at this point but, obviously, you don't question it. too scared of what would happen if you let anything escape your lips.

One particularly harsh thrust has his hips snapping into yours and involuntarily you are pushing your back into his, trying to get him even closer. Like that was possible.

This has him tutting at you and gripping your hips a bit rougher, "Like the way my dick fills you up baby?"

You want to answer, you really do but you just bite your lip instead. He seems to notice you holding back and laughs lightly at you.

Pulling out of you and flipping you around to face him. He pecks your forehead before lifting one leg around his hip. You almost lose your balance as he pushes you back into the wall, so you have at least a little bit of support.

"Let me give you what you really want." Joel says as he enters you once again. "Wanna see the look on your face as you cum on my dick, pretty girl."

Now he's pistoning you onto his dick, letting you feel as much of his length as he can with how tightly your leg is wrapped around him. Its like your body wants to keep him permanently inside of you, not like your brain disagrees though.

Just like that, a few thrusts later and you are getting closer to your orgasm. Your body giving in so easily and it's heightened state. You never knew how malleable morning sex would make you.

And as your vision is beginning to be clouded by stars and your stomach is tightening, a whimper escapes your lips before you can catch it. Joel's hips stop abruptly and so does your orgasm.

Your eyes snap open to meet his. They just stare back blankly, almost no emotion because you know what you did. You want to plead with him, maybe complain that you were close but you don't. Silence watches over you.

Joel sits there staring at you, member half inside of you. Your pussy clenches onto it, as if trying to urge him into giving in. But it isn't until you are dropping your eyes from his that he's leaning forward and capturing your lips in his own. He kisses you for a moment, slow and steady, still just warming his cock inside of you.

"I know you were close baby, but you knew the rules." He says in a way that it almost sounds like an apology. But that is long forgotten as he snaps his hip forward into you and hits your g spot in one perfect thrust.

The urge to moan again is intense that you are biting down on your lip. For a second you question if you would draw blood, but decide the pleasure is way important right now. As your head tosses back meeting the cool tile.

With how close your orgasm was before it isn't long before you are reaching your peak once again. Your stomach clenches again and vision blurs. Although this time you are conscious of the sounds you would normally make and hold them back. As the wave crashes over you and you are spasming into Joel's body.

Joel's strong arms hold you up as your legs go weak under you, the wet floor making it all too easy for you to just go down. The leg around his hips also loosens but he grips that thigh holding it there as he begins to chase his own orgasm.

The feeling of your walls clenching around him getting him dangerously close to his own peak. His teeth find your neck in an attempt to hold back his orgasm, not wanting to cum into you without a condom (or permission).

"Baby-" He grunts out, pain laced in his voice. You catch the tone immediately and try to find you feet. Although it takes you a second, in that second he is pulling out of you and stroking his dick in an attempt to reach his orgasm.

Without a second thought you are dropping to your knees and swatting his hands away replacing them with your own. The minute your mouth meets the tip of his member, he is shooting his load into your waiting cavern. Swallowing it all down as you stroke him slowly, working him through his high.

Joel's hands grip your hair as he comes down from his high. When he has come back down to earth, his fingers loosen and instead he is stroking your head in a comforting gesture.

Giving him another second to recover before you stand up to attach his lips to your own. Now he is melting into your touch as he tastes himself on your lips.

"I love you." This has you pausing and stepping back. You are sure you didn't hear him right. Seeing the look on your face a playful smile graces his own.

"Y/N I love you." Joel repeats.

"I-I love you too." You want to jump into his arms, but obviously you don't want to break your leg...or his.

"Why did you have to tell here?" Now you are hitting his chest, leaving the hand there, just needing to feel him. He laughs at your antics, but let's you continue, knowing you well enough to know you aren't done yet.

"I'm all wet and I just woke up. I have sex brain. Uh!" Another hit, this one has him grabbing your wrist and pulling you towards him carefully.

"I feel like that's the perfect time." Joel says with a smile, leaning down to place a kiss on your pouting lips.

"I feel like that's the perfect time." You mock him which has him laughing again. Another kiss is placed on your lips, this one continues a bit longer as if he is savoring the feeling of yours on his.

The blush is evident on your cheeks but you aren't giving up, "Just finish up in here, I'm going back to bed." A huff and you are leaving the shower. Joel's laugh echoes behind you.

When you told Joel to finish up, you didn't think he would take this long. At this rate you should've just stayed in there and washed yourself too. Instead you have dried yourself off already and are sat crisscross on Joel's bed. His shirt adorning your body and a towel wrapped around your still damp hair.

You have a book resting on your legs as you read in silence. Hearing the water turn off in the bathroom, you smile down at your book knowing Joel will be out soon.

Just as the sink faucet is switched on, the front door opens and a familiar voice sounds out through the house. The bathroom door is all but slammed open at the booming voice. Joel stands there towel around his waist, toothbrush between his lips. A bit of toothpaste is threatening to spill out of the corner of his mouth and you bite back a smile.

"Tommy." Joel says, the words a bit muffled by the brush and paste in his mouth.

Your eyes widen. No you weren't scared to meet his brother, I mean you have technically met him before. It was just you wanted to make a semi good impression and well here you were in only your underwear.

But before you can make any change to that Tommy's footsteps are thudding down the hallway and the door to Joel's bedroom is swinging open, with not so much as a knock.

"Joel!" Tommy calls out just as his eyes drop to yours. You are quickly pushing your legs straight under the covers in any attempt to cover yourself.

Tommy's jaw drops, "You!" Your eyes stay open wide not sure what is going to come out of his mouth next. Joel stays stuck in the doorway, not sure what to do either.

Then Tommy laughs, like a whole belly laugh. Loud, resounding. He doubles over holding his stomach. That's how funny he finds this whole situation.

It's almost a minute before he is recovering from his fit, wiping the tears that formed in the corners of his eyes. Both you and Joel are still stood there in shock. Watching his brother with semi-concerned eyes.

"The girl from the bar!" Tommy points to you, then to Joel. "And you! You old dog. Joel's still got it, huh?" He nods as if he's just discovered something.

Another chuckle and he's looking back at you, "Damn."

"Tommy..." Joel tests the waters, still not fully sure what to say to him.

"This is, just wow!" Then Tommy does something that is even more astounding. He slow claps. Actually slow claps like he's in some movie.

He does this for a second or two before looking between you and Joel, nodding slowly. You clear your throat, trying to attempt anything to clear the awkward air of the situation.

"I'm Y/N, by the way." A tight smile comes with your words. Hand leaving its grip on your book to give a small wave to the man.

He's still nodding, "Tommy-" He weighs his words. "I'm gonna go." And with that he is turning on his heel.

Yelling a quick, "Good job big bro!", before the front door is closed behind him.

As soon as the lock is clicking, you and Joel turn to each other. Still in shock, before you are giggling.

"Well, were two for two on family first meetings. Got any other family members I could awkwardly meet?"

Joel smiles at you before he is retreating to bathroom to spit out his long forgotten toothpaste. Returning to the room , he crawls across the foot of the bed towards you, like a lion stalking his prey.

"No, but honestly that's the best it could've gone with Tommy so don't feel bad." A kiss to your lips.

"I don't feel bad, I feel embarrassed." You say as you trace a finger down his jaw. He melts into your touch.

"I mean look at me!" You gesture to your lack luster clothing... or lack of clothing.

Lust flashes behind his eyes, "I think you look sexy." You almost hit him again but hold back.

"Of course you do, I'm wearing your shirt."

Joel considers your words for a second, "Is that what it is? Sure it isn't how I'm still thinking about how badly I wanted to fill you with my cum earlier?"

Your jaw drops, actually drops at his words. But two can play at this game.

"So why didn't you?" Hands play with the hairs at the nape of his neck, a shiver runs down his spine.

"You," A poke to your nose, "were in no mindset to give me permission, pretty girl. Not to mention, you were keeping those pretty lips shut." As he mentions your lips, he glances down at them. You readjust your body so your tits brush his chest. Nipples hardening at the sensation.

"Now I'm thinking about how much I missed out." You try, wanting to get one response in particular from Joel.

"Well, what my baby wants, she gets." Joel says matter-of-factly. Grabbing your hips and pulling you to lay down beneath him. You feel his hardening member brush your thigh.

"Mr. Miller, already so hard again?" You question the sound of fake astonishment in your voice.

"Shut up and let the whole neighborhood hear how good I make you feel. Gonna get you so full of my cum, sugar."

Needless to say, neither you nor Joel left the bed that day.

Taglist:

@wh0reforbucknasty @guelyury @shibeom @theoraekenslover @deathsholywaterr @azxulaa @untamedheart81 @akah565 @shadowmoonlight0604 @papi-ispunk

I just went ahead and tagged everyone that mentioned wanting a part two :)

[kaitys-bs]

Guns n’ Roses 🌹

mafia boss ellabs

NSFW MDNI

tags: smut with plot, top!abby, bottom!ellie, talks of murder, brief smoking, slight implied pinning?, little bit of a power dynamic, pet names (gorgeous, good girl, slut), degrading & praise, fingering (e receive), oral (e receive)

not proof read (who actually does…)

The city has been divided in two for as long as anybody can remember. Gang violence ransacking Seattle for decades, not a day would go by without the sounds of sirens or gunshots. That's until two men stepped up to gain some control, Jerry Anderson and Joel Miller.

Sure, the men were at each others throats from the very first day. Both believed they knew what was right to control the gang scene and in the end, agreed to split the city in two. Each having their own personal agenda for their enterprise.

The tipping point was the death of Jerry Anderson, leading his daughter Abby to take his place.

After Jerry died via single gunshot to the forehead, war between their respective families began to escalate, Abby speculating it was the doing of the Millers. She wasn't wrong, taking a golf club to Joel's skull which promoted his daughter Ellie to take his place.

What's the saying? An eye for an eye leaves the whole world blind?

Ellie shuts her office door behind her, letting out a heavy breath with a rub to her aching shoulders. She needed a massage, or maybe to get her back blown out a round or two. It's been a long ass week to say the least.

She pulls out a cigarette and lighter from her pocket, circling around to her desk. A commotion occurring on the other side of Ellie's door causing a crease to form between her brows. Soon enough the door is flinging open and Abigail Anderson in her suited glory pushes through, blood on her jacket and murder in her eyes. "Williams!" She shouts, less than happy to see the auburn haired girl.

"Ms. Anderson. What a... surprise" Ellies voice sounds far from surprised, almost disappointed as she snuffs out her cigarette while leaning back in her chair, legs manspread with her arms pulled back into a cross. Suit jacket open with the top buttons of her dress shirt undone, Ellie looks a wreck with that shit eating grin plastered on her face.

Abby's palms press into the grain of Ellie's desk, death stare into her soul. "The fucking audacity of you. A drive by! A fucking DRIVE BY?" A soft chuckle leaves the brutes throat, reminding Ellie that Abby is just a girl despite the tough exterior. "I mean come on, you didn't even have the balls to do it yourself?"

Ellie raises from her spot, disliking the fact Abby loomed over her. Her glare through thin lashes still small under the blondes height. "Didn't see the need. Unlike you, I actually try to cover up my kills" But that's untrue, Ellie knew she wouldn't be able to pull the trigger on Abby if it came to it.

Abby raises an eyebrow, disbelieving her answer but surprised regardless. "But where's the fun in that gorgeous? Seeing the life drain out of their eyes..." She trails off, clicking her tongue.

"So why'd you come here? Rub it in my face you survived? Have my shooters head in a box for me or something? Kill me? What's your angle Anderson?" Ellie leans in slightly, her head cocking to the side as she takes in Abby's massive figure.

Abby again lets out one of those pretty chuckles with a shake of her head, "So little faith. I just came to get you to tell me why the fuck you think you can kill me? Do you want my guys to come after yours? That would start a full blown war." The way Abby scolds Ellie sends a rush between her legs, pressing them together behind the desk while keeping up the act.

"A war started the moment you bashed in my father's head" Ellie presses her palms into the desk harder, hearing the wood creak under the pressure of her ange and horniness. 

Abby leans in slightly with an innocent little grin, "So that's what it's about? You miss your daddy, do you now?" The way her lips pout with fake sympathy is so demeaning, making Ellie feel like a child. It's a turn on that she didn't know she had.

"Fuck. You" Ellie speaks through her teeth, "Is that all or is there something else you came here for?"

Abby smirks, eyes glossing up and down with a smirk before taking an inhale of air. "Normally when someone turns on me, I'd just take them out back and shoot them" She takes out her revolver, inspecting it in her palm before gently resting it on the desk, "But you're not just anyone, are you now?"

"What's your game here Anderson? If you're gonna shoot me, do it" The auburn haired woman barks as she sulks back in her skin, arms crossing with a hesitant look. While attempting to remain strong, it's getting harder to deny that pull.

Abby shakes her head a negative, "Such an attitude" Soon enough Abby's strong hands are gripping the sides of Ellie's cheeks, pressing them together and pulling the girl inches away from her face. "Almost like you're begging for me to fuck it out of you"

The breath from Ellie's lungs is almost vacuumed up in the whirlwind of emotions. The second heartbeat between her legs grows stronger and it has the strong woman melting in Abby's hands, "Tell me you want me" She whispers softly into Ellie's ears.

"Shut the fuck up and kiss me alrea-" As Ellie snaps back at Abby, their lips smash together in what's probably years of pent up sexual frustrations with one another. The forbidden fruits of having one another. Adam eating the apple that's now evident in every man's throat you glance, a reminder of shame.

"Clothes. Off. Now" Abby grits between kisses, nodding her head to the leather couch in Ellie's office. Quickly, she starts to take off her suit jacket, button up, and pants, watching as Abby undresses her top half too. "All of it" She adds when Ellie stopped at just her underwear.

Laying back on the couch, Ellies body is masked by Abby's. The blonde leaning over Ellie with their lips meeting once more. Their kiss is rushed, tangled in each others limbs, breath fanning face. It's a mess of a spectacle straight out of every disgusting straight man's dream porno.

For once Ellie doesn't have to hold a high standard of control. For once she's able to just lay back and let someone take the wheel. She feels small, buck ass naked underneath Abby, in her bra and slacks. "Abby-" Ellie grits between her teeth as the blonde sucks purple bruises into the pale flesh of her neck. Abby's hands not going where she needs them most, staying on her waist, hips and boobs but never traveling below the belt. It's tortue, a worse pain than being shot.

"Yes gorgeous girl?" Abby smirks against her skin while her hands trace up and down Ellie's side. "What is it?" Her kindness is simply a smoke screen as she pinches Ellie's neglected and sensitive nipple, causing her to whine while arching into Abby's huge hands.

There's a pathetic look on Ellie's brow. The way she's so desperate and on the verge of tears behind the stare that would have Abby dead if looks could kill. "I swear to fucking god- oh" A moan cuts Ellie's bitching off as soon as Abby's lips wrap around her breast. "Shit- just like that"

That cocky look on Abby's face would normally be enough for Ellie to walk away. If only the way that the blonde made her crumble in a way nobody had was enough to keep Ellie in her place, back arching into Abby's skilled pleasure.

Soon enough Abby's large finger pushes its way into Ellie, the stretch enough to almost fill her with a single digit. Melodic moans fill the room as Abby takes her time, curling her finger and simply applying pressure to that particular spot every lesbian knows of. Pressure builds in Ellies core, a sort of tension building up on the verge of snapping as Abby continues to suck her tits.

"Keep-" Abby's sharp voice barks at Ellies uncooperative hips, pushing her down so her body is flush to the couch, "Keep still- stop your fucking squirming or I'll leave. You understand?" Ellie nods quick, her neck bobbing up and down but that's not enough for her, "Fucking say it!"

The feeling of Ellie's orgasm fades into the abyss, causing a sob to leave from deep in her throat. "I understand- FUCK!" Tears physically soak her cheeks at this point, she yelps with the feeling of Abby's finger leaving her pussy, watching her side down.

Abby sucks a bruise into her thigh, with a slap to the red mark, causing Ellie to squirm. "Good girl. That's a good fucking girl" Abby's praise makes the torture almost worse, what's actually worst is the slow kisses around where Ellie wants her the most. It's ticklish but also so fucking hot.

That's when, finally like a gift from a higher being, Abby's lips find her clit and start to suck hard, almost biting her bud. Ellie screams and tries to wiggle away but the flex in Abby's shoulders and arms keep her there. The blonde doesn't even take time to say anything, eyes shut as she takes her time eating Ellie like she's  her last meal on earth. At this rate, Ellie might shoot her if she doesn't cum so it very well may be.

The pressure builds and builds and builds till Ellie is breathless and unable to say a word. She can't even communicate herself, the whines and heavy breaths stop all words from forming. It's enough to boost Abby's ego for the rest of their lives. Ellie's nimble fingers tap the Abby's bicep, starting to squeeze as her legs clamp and shake like mad.

That orgasm flushes over Ellie like a truck, like nothing ever felt before. Abby takes a minute to finish what she started before pulling back to breathe, "You did so well, such a good slut" Abby sits down at ellie's feet, pulling the shaking girls legs into her lap to give a few tight squeezes in a massage.

Ellie takes her time to catch her breath with a stupid grin plastered on her cheeks. No thoughts till Abby speaks up again,

"So... about the drive by... was that your way of a booty call?"

[gorgeousgreymatter-x]

I don't know how to scream this from the rooftops any more but please straight smut writers the cervix is not an erogenous zone and as someone who has had theirs kicked by baby feet for like five months in the past please nobody wants anything hammering into that place I beg of u

[foomoosworld]

THE RAVEN AND THE FIREFLY - CHAPTER 7

MINORS DNI

Summary: Joel has been tasked to get a woman across numerous states in order to trade her for a cure for the outbreak. What he wasn't told before taking on the job is that she appears to be part of a cult that believes they're from outer space. As he travels further and further he starts seeing signs that something strange is going on with this woman that he can't explain. And, unfortunately, in the process, he's falling in love with her.

Crossover: Peli Motto, Poe Dameron, Mandalorain.

Fluff and Smut. Hells yes. Fluffy Smut. That's a thing now.

If you want to be tagged for updates on new chapters please let me know in the comments.

Joel tracked Peli’s trail with you anxiously following closely behind him.  Your heartbreaking need to find your father through finding Peli was not lost on him, however, he knew she probably didn’t want to be found if she made contact with you then disappeared in the middle of the night.  Something was fishy and it put Joel on edge.  He managed to hide it well as he pretended to divert his concern that you were probably walking into a trap onto your worries of finding your father instead. However, he had his rifle loaded and ready, just in case.  

Joel abruptly stopped at the edge of the forest and you were following so close you ran into the back of him.  He stumbled forward, sighed and slowly turned his head over his shoulder to glare at you.  You merely shrug, knowing to keep quiet when Joel suddenly stops.

He crouched down and inspected the large open field of long green grass in front of him.

“The tracks go that way, Christopher Columbus.”  You snark, pointing out the obvious trail where Peli had waxed through the grass.

Joel merely puts a finger to his lips to tell you to be quiet.  You shrink down, suddenly aware that there may be danger he sees that you don’t.

“It doesn’t make sense.”  Joel mutters more to himself than to you, however, you chime in anyways, whispering,

“What?  Her trail goes into the middle of the field.  I can see it clearly.  Right into that big open patch of grass that has been squashed down.”

Joel turns around and sits against a wet log and pulls out his rifle, ensuring that it’s in working fashion.

“Rifle.  Why are you taking out your rifle?  Peli’s not dangerous.  We’re not going to shoot her.  She has to have gone that way!”  You hiss at him with anxiety dripping from your words.

Joel angrily stares at you, then sighs again.  He puts an arm around your shoulder and pulls you up to peek over the log with him.

“You see anything strange about her tracks?”  He lowly whispers.

You scan your eyes around the field.

“Is this a trick question?”  You ask.  He just turns his stoney face to you and doesn’t respond. You roll your eyes and turn your gaze to inspect the field again, more thoroughly this time.  “I guess it’s a bit weird that there is a big section of the grass that’s all pushed down where her tracks lead.  That probably means that some sort of large vehicle picked her up.”

“Exactly.  But that’s not everything…”  Joel trails off as he points his hand at the large open field of flowing grass. “Do you see any marks where that vehicle could have driven in?”

You scan around and raise a curious eyebrow.

“N-no.  Well, maybe it was a helicopter? It came down from the sky?”

“And how big is a helicopter?”

You pulled back slightly from the log, getting slightly scared, “Not that big.”

“Something has happened here, and I don’t know what it is so we’re going around and avoiding this whole situation.”  Joel states.

“Wait!”  You call to him as he gets up and begins to walk the long way around the field, “What if there’s clues there as to where Peli went?  Or my father?”

“I’m not gonna get killed to find out.  We know where your father is.  I’m taking you there.”  Joel instructs.  He pulls himself to his feet just in time to see you take off, quickly scrambling, hunched over, through the long grass towards the large pressed down area in the middle of the field.

“Goddamnit!” Joel pulls the rifle off of his back and chases after you.  You break through the long grass into the huge circle of pressed down grass and are frantically looking around for clues. Joel hesitates at the edge of the grass, still hiding, ready to snipe anyone that jumps out at you.  When, surprisingly, nothing happens he stands up.  You run to the middle of the crop circle when a reflective flash catches your eye in the pressed grass.  You gather it, preciously in your hands and inspect it, then inhale sharply and freeze which makes Joel nervous.  He rushes cautiously up to you.

“What is it?  What did you find?”  He looks over your shoulder to the dirty metal amulet that looks like the skull of a Woolly Mammoth.  You don’t respond at first, your eyes wide as you run your fingers over it.

“I know this…”  You whisper.

“It’s just some cheap metal jewelry that Peli must have dropped.” Joel rationalizes.

You turn to him with wide eyes.

“My mother gave this to my father.”  You say emotionlessly and hesitate to elaborate further.

“You’ve seen this before?”  Joel asks sliding an arm around you as he inspects the jewelry.

“I remember now… She said a man would come looking for me and I would see this symbol.  That’s how I would know it was safe and that it was him.”

“Well, did that man fly a goddamn spaceship?  Because he didn’t drive in or out of here unless he lifted up into the air in a fucking battleship.”  Joel shoots at you.  You don’t respond but look fondly and sadly at the amulet.  Joel exhales and gently raises your face up to look at him, “We need to keep going.  I don’t know what this is, but Peli is gone and we have a long way to go.  There’s an abandoned underground mall not far from here that is completely cut off from the outside.  There’s no infected.  We can find the mattress section of a department store and get a good nights sleep.  But we need to go now if we want to make it there tonight.”

You look up, eyes welling up.

“What happened here?”  You ask feeling the raw chaos of your emotions for the first time.

Joel looked sympathetically at you and pulled you into a hug.  You cried heaving sobs as you clutched the amulet so tight in your hand that it imprinted it’s mark in your palm.

“Come on, baby girl.  You don’t need this confusion right now. Let’s find shelter and we’ll talk when we’re safe.  Follow me.”  Joel whispered as he held you tight. You pulled away, wiped your tears and nodded, sniffling. Joel gave you a small smile “that’s my girl.” He ushered you to the long grass and you made the first exit path from the crop circle.

Joel had never thought that you would be too quiet, but as you walked to the abandoned underground mall you had not said a word and would not put down that amulet.  It wasn’t until you crossed a highway and abandoned parking lot full of rusted out cars that Joel stopped and said, “Well… there she is.”

He had thought you would be more impressed but it just looked like a looted strip mall.

“Great.”  You sarcastically mumbled.

“Just wait till you see the inside.”  Joel smiled.

He led you into a looted supermarket, the floor littered with garbage and broken glass then beyond that you walked the cracked tile of the mall until you reached a twisted, broken escalator covered with roots and plants that had slowly crushed it over time.

“Come on.”  He said, extending his hand to you as he gingerly stepped around the chaotic and twirled steps of the escalator to lead you down into the darkness.  You paused for a second and cocked your head  curiously at him.

“Joel Miller, I will not be murdered in a mall.  I’m far too alternative for that.”  You joke.

Joel chuckles and circles his palm for you to take it.

“Just follow me.” 

You both help eachother down the sharp and twisting broken escalator until you’re in the depths of the mall.  Joel leads you down a miriad of labyrinth like hallways in pitch black except for his flashlight.  You’re in a back hall of the lower mall when he opens a panel on the wall and pushes some buttons, throws some fuses, then the lower mall suddenly sighs to a dim life with light.

“Oh my god…”  You gasp with a slow smile melting across your face.  Joel watches your expression and feels a pang of pride knowing he caused it.

“Come see…”  He says taking your hand and for the first time you felt Joel excitedly lead you around winding corridors into the main hallway of the mall.  All of the stores are dimly lit on the generator lights.  You walk, stunned up to the marry-go-round that is now dimly lit.  The horses aren’t moving but their chipped painted faces of excitement, frozen in time make your heart clench. You sweep yourself up onto one of the horses and trace your hands over the smooth, varnished exterior and hug the horse around it’s neck.

“I’ve never seen a horse in real life.”  You smile at Joel.

“Yeah, I didn’t think you had.”  He smiles. “There’s more…”  He motions down the long dimly lit mall hallway.  You follow him, nervously but full of the excitement of a child.  He leads you into a department store and takes you to the most expensive area of the women’s clothing section.  Your eyes grow wide as you take in the sequins, silk and beauty of the clothing.  “Go for it.”  He nods at the clothing section.  You take a moment to look at him as if to ask if it’s real.  He merely nods again.  You laugh heartily and skip forward into the clothes.  

You pull out a dress and hold it up to Joel.  He doesn’t respond but you jump in place unable to contain your happiness and right in front of him strip down and struggle your way into the dress.  Joel tries to give you privacy by slightly turning around, but his eyes wander and see your beautiful, naked body stepping into the dress.  Once you’re in the dress you run bare feet padding against the mall tile up to him with a giant smile and turn around so your back is facing Joel and pull your tangled hair up off your back.

“Zip me up!”  You exclaim.  Joel huffs a happy laugh and slowly zips up the back of your dress.  His hand lingers, his warm touch sending shivers up your spine into your shoulders.  You turn slowly and snake your arms over his shoulders in an embrace.

“You need some new clothes too.”  You state with a smirk.

“No.”  Joel rolls his eyes and looks away.

“Yes…”  You dance back a few feet.  “Come on, grumpy…  Dress up with me!”

Joel looks back behind him as if to see if anyone is looking, then grunts and begrudgingly follows you to the men’s department.  Once there you pick out a suit for him and happily hold it up.

“Here it is!”  You exclaim happily as you jog it over to him.  He grunts his discontent and you eye him coldly sending the message that this is not optional.  “Dress behind that clothing rack!”  You exclaim, “I want to be surprised when you come out.”  Joel grumbles again but does as he’s told.

After a few moments of him dressing behind the clothing rack you check in and call out, “Hey, Louis Vuitton, you done yet?”  Joel strolls out meekly.  

Your eyes grow wide as you view his broad shoulders and slim waist in the designer suit.

“You look…” You trail off.

“This is stupid… I know.  I’m not a designer kind of man.”  He fumbles, uncomfortably.

You stride up to him and take his hands that he doesn’t know what to do with and kiss them gently.  He suddenly snaps back to the reality of you and angles his head down to see you looking up at him with large eyes.  He beholds you in your perfect dress under the soft light and his hand breaks your grasp and wraps you around your lower back.  His other hand grasps yours and he begins to stride slowly around as he dances with you. He spins you and pulls you back into his warm chest.

“I wish we had shoes. This floor is cold.” You say glancing down to your bare feet with a laugh.  Joel merely smiles then grabs your thigh and puts one of your bare feet on top of his.  You continue to dance with your feet on top of his.

You stretch up and kiss him.  It’s long and soft as you feel his tongue gently explore yours.  He pulls away and both of you notice you’ve stopped dancing.

“Guess this dance is over.”  Joel quietly states.

“No it’s not.”  You stare up into his eyes. You slowly lead him further back into the department store.  He follows you, lead by your hand, snaking through clothing racks and up forgotten escalators until finally you reach the bedding department and you have found a California King sized bed.  You smirk as you Vana White present the bed to him with a sweeping motion.

“Yes ma’am.”  Joel smiles as he hops onto the bed and looks at you hungrily in your dress.

“I MIGHT have stolen something from a lower level of this mall tht you would be interested in.”  You slyly smile.

“Just come here, baby.  You look amazing as you are.  I’ve wanted to rip that dress off of you since I first saw you in it.”  Joel motions for you to climb into bed but you tut him and walk away behind a shelf of sheets and begin to get changed.  He sees your dress get tossed to one side from behind the shelf and feels a sinking of his heart.  However, his breath hitches in his throat when you stride out, nervously from behind the clothing rack.

You stand in front of him in black, lacey, see-through lingerie.  Your nipples are taught in the cold air and just barely visible through the sheen of the lingerie and your plush butt cheeks are peeking out from under the lace and thong

Joel is speechless as he stares at you with his eyes widening every second they inhale your vision.

The long silence was a bit too much for you and made you slightly self conscious so you asked gently,

“Do you want me?”

Joel hops off the bed and stands in front of you, inspecting every inch of you.

“You’re mine.”  He says grabbing and pulling you close.”Mine.  And mine, alone.”

He pushed you back and you both fell back into the bed as he immediately began pulling off his suit.  You and he tugged and ripped at his clothes until he was naked and that seemed to calm his need, somewhat, as he began thrusting rhythmically against you.  His thick, strong hand reached down and touched your seam to find it already dripping through the lingerie. He slowly circled your clit over top of the thin lingerie and watched you sigh, moan and slowly buck against him.

“You’re so perfect.”  He exhaled as he watched you in your bliss.

You slowly snaked one of your legs around his hips and pulled yourself into his body.  He gasped as his hard cock thrust against your lingerie.  He pulled the thin, sheen fabric to one side and slowly pushed himself into you.  You gasped at the sudden stretch but welcomed his throbbing cock.

“Good girl.”  He rasped quietly as he exhaled, watching your perfect face.

Slowly he began riding you, his breath picking up as his pleasure released throughout his body.

“You’re so beautiful.”  He rasped, watching you.

You felt his large cock slowly stretch you and fill you, pushing up against your perfect spots and making you gasp and grasp his broad frame like a wild animal clinging to life .  As you closed your eyes and experienced the pleasure, he felt your wet soak him and picked up the pace.  You whimpered at first, hands clutching his muscular back, then found yourself calling his name as his thrusts became fast and hard. He galloped you steadily towards your orgasm as you arched your back and clenched the sheets as if possessed.

“There’s my girl.”  He rasped as he rode you. His hand reached down to your pussy as he thrust into you and slowly traced wet circles between your swollen folds until his fingers found your clit and quickly flicked until you shouted, fireworks exploding behind your squeezed shut eyes.

“Yes!”  You cried out, his cock twitching and sliding and punching every perfect angle as you screamed out your orgasm, arching and stretching.

“Mine!”  He shouted as he took a deep breath between your neck and collar bone as you orgasmed.  He crowded over you and had a dark look in his eyes as he began wildly riding you.

Suddenly, you felt him twitch inside of you and he cried out your name as he pushed you down in the bed and canted wildly into you.

“You’re fucking mine!”  He called out as he came thick strong ropes of cum into you.

You both tumbled down into the bed next to each other, panting and dripping with sweat.  Your arms draped over him, and kisses fell upon his neck and jawline as he caught his breath.  You look tiredly at one side of he bed and see the tatters that you had both left the high price lingerie and suit in.

“It’s a damn good thing that this is the apocalypse, cause those clothes would have cost us more than our lives.”  You smirk at Joel.  He smiles and pulls you into him and mumbles. “But I would pay every penny.” He breathes into your sweat dappled skin of your neck then crowds close and finds a comfortable position as he closes his eyes and drifts off to sleep.

[chloeangelic]

The Aquarium - Owen Moore x Chloe Angelic

In celebration of 1.5k followers, I have written a mini series of cringey, satirical smut fics featuring myself and the guys from TLOU2, i.e. Owen, Manny, Tommy and Joel.

In case you're new here; this does not reflect my usual writing!!! If you want to read my serious fics (Joel Miller x f!reader) find them on my masterlist. 

Summary: Chloe gets dicked down by Owen in celebration of 1.5k followers.  

Warnings: Badly written smut, cringe, creampie, big dick fetish, extreme ego stroking. 

Word count: 411 Rating: 18+ explicit

Chloe knocks on the door to the aquarium and Owen opens, wearing a tight green t-shirt. “Wow, Chloe, I’ve missed you so much” he says and lets her in the door, “Congrats on your internet milestone, you deserve it because you are such an amazing writer. Nobody writes sort of sad, sort of funny Joel Miller porn like you, baby”. 

“Thanks, Owen” she says and walks into the aquarium, “I heard you have a massive cock, is that true?”. “Yes, Chloe, that’s true. You wanna fuck?” he asks. “That would be great, I will be thinking about my followers the entire time and wishing the best for each and every one of them while I get railed by you, Owen” she says, “Where is your bed?”.

“It’s in here” he says and points to a door. They walk inside. The bedroom is small but they can see fish behind a glass wall. The sheets are navy colored. 

They get undressed and Chloe is wearing a matching pink lingerie set. Owen cannot believe his eyes. “You have the best ass I have ever seen, Chloe, I can tell you do mostly legs at the gym”, he says and slaps her ass. It jiggles perfectly, Owen’s eyes are about to pop out of his head, he has never seen an ass like Chloe’s. “You also have perfect tits”, he says. 

Chloe thanks him, then touches his biceps, and she is soaking wet. He rips off her bra and panties and tosses her onto the bed. She looks at his naked body and sees the biggest cock she has ever seen in her life. She is stunned. 

“What’s that, like, nine inches?” she asks, and he nods, “Yes, probably around that”. “Wow” she says. He puts it in, she moans. Owen is fucking Chloe hard, she’s loving it. “This feels amazing, Owen” she says, “I’m so glad fifteen hundred people followed me so I had an excuse to come over here and ask you to fuck me”. “You can come over whenever you want” he says. 

Chloe comes three times in a row, and Owen is about to lose his mind. He has never felt such a perfect pussy in his life and is trying not to come because he wants this to be the best sex Chloe has ever had. He is in love with her and he is going to propose. He comes inside her and they live happily ever after. 

I have ditched my taglists, due to the majority of tags not working, and have created a notifications blog instead. Follow Angelic Notifs and turn your notifications on if you want my new fics served directly to you!

[theprettiestsposts]

HI ! i’m gonna start writing my thoughts / feelings & some fanfics about my favorite characters so please send me some requests and or suggestions for some ! they can be smut / nsfw & soft / sfw

my favorite fandoms

harry potter

lord of the rings

supernatural

doctor who

criminal minds

last of us

the walking dead

twilight

marvel / dc

and more ( you can request other characters from other fandoms as well)

[pedroshotwifey]

How has it been a fucking year already?? Happy birthday again, daddy joel.

Birthday Present

In honor of our father's birthday ;)

(Picture of Pedro but can be pictured as either Joel) <3

Pairing: Joel Miller x F!Reader

Word Count: 1.5k

Tags/Warnings: NO use of Y/N, implied age gap but not specified, daddy kink, Joel calls himself daddy because Joel is daddy, piv sex, unprotected sex (wrap it b4 u tap it), slight over-stimulation, Joel and reader are in love because I said so, Joel likes tits, smut, fluff, im probably forgetting stuff but oh well

Summary: You do your best to give Joel the best birthday, and he lets you know how much he appreciates it.

A/N: This is officially the shortest thing I've written! I wrote it all on short notice so I hope it doesn't sound rushed or anything :,) ***

“Fuckin’ hell, baby. Gonna kill me before those clickers even get the goddamn chance.”

You giggle as you stare up at Joel. That’s exactly the kind of reaction you had been hoping for. You’ve been planning this day for close to a week, after all. It took a good bit of trading, but you somehow managed to get a lingerie set as well as  ingredients for a cake—both of those things being a rare delicacy nowadays. 

“Yeah, you like your gift, Daddy?” you ask him with feigned innocence. He tilts his head and gives you a warning look. You know damn well that he likes it. Who wouldn’t? He comes home after a long day of work to find his girl spread out on his bed, wrapped up in white, baby doll style lingerie, complete with a pretty little ribbon in her hair. 

His perfect little birthday present. Joel keeps his hungry gaze on your barely-covered body as he kicks his boots off. His cock is already fighting to get out of its confines, his large bulge obvious against his jeans. 

“Hands and knees, baby girl,” he commands as he starts to work on his jacket. You obey him immediately, turning around and planting your forearms on the mattress, your ass high up in the air. Joel grunts behind you as he looks up to see you presenting yourself. There is only a small, lacy scrap of fabric separating him from your soft pussy. 

“Daddy’s gonna get good use outta his gift, ain't he, sweetheart,” he says as he walks over to you, his voice deep with lust. You know he’s hungry for this, After a stressful day, his favorite thing to do is come home and fuck the shit out of you. His perfect girl, staying home and cleaning the house, cooking him good meals, warming his bed, starting his showers. You deserve the world, and he hates that he can’t give it to you. 

Instead, he brings you gifts. Perfumes, outfits, treats, books, and the like. He treats you like an absolute princess, and fucks you just the way you need. He never fails to make you feel special and appreciated. Your love for him seems to somehow grow more everyday, and his for you. 

“Please, Daddy, it’s all yours,” your voice is breathy and your legs are already shaking in anticipation. You hear Joel chuckle behind you and turn around to look, only to see him standing, fully undressed now, with his hardened cock in his hand. The involuntary moan you let out at the sight is just bordering on pornagraphic. 

His dick never fails to intimidate you. The fact that it stands at a little over seven inches fully erect is enough to make your eyes widen even without the girth. With the ridiculous girth, however, it makes you want to get on your knees and worship him until he’s coming all over your face—which is what you decide to do.

Joel opens his mouth to question you as you slink from the bed, but you’re down in front of him with his cock in your small hand before he has the chance. He lets out a choked groan as you squeeze the tiniest bit before licking a stripe up the bottom of his shaft. His hand quickly finds its way to your hair for stability, rustling the ribbon you had secured there. 

“Fuck, darlin’” he says through gritted teeth. He pushes you forward slightly with his hand, encouraging you to go further. Getting the hint, you lean forward and take the tip of his cock into your mouth. You waste no time in suctioning to the head, making Joel moan above you.

“Yeah, there you go baby, just like that,” he praises through clenched teeth as you begin to take him deeper down your throat. It doesn’t take too much of you sucking and licking his dick to have Joel on the edge. You hum, sending vibrations up his body as you feel how close he’s getting.

As soon as he starts to shake, you’re pulled away from him, his cock dropping from your mouth. Confused, you look up at him to see the way he has his eyes closed in concentration. 

“Such a good girl for Daddy, baby, but I wanna fuck that pretty pussy,” he says once he opens his eyes. “Get back up on the bed for me, angel.”

Smiling, you follow his orders, this time laying on your back with your ass close to the edge. You want to be able to look into his pretty eyes as he ruins you. You spread your legs wide for him as he comes closer, a feral look in his eyes. 

“Goddamn, baby, wanna unwrap my present, but I’m too fuckin’ impatient,” he says as he rushes toward you, his hand coming out to play with your lacy panties. “Wanna play with my toy now.”

“That’s okay, Daddy,” you assure him with another giggle. “I want you to play with your toy, too.” 

Joel doesn’t wait any longer to slot between your legs, put them over his shoulders, and pull your panties to the side just enough to slam his cock into your cunt. The force of the first thrust knocks the breath out of you, but it’s okay since you would have forgotten how to breath, anyway.

He always makes you feel so full. It’s like as soon as he stuffs his dick into you, every thought leaves your mind, only leaving enough room for him. You gasp in the air you lost as Joel pulls out just enough to leave the tip in before shoving back in to kiss your g-spot with his cock. 

“Oh, God, Daddy,” your speech is slurred as you begin to go cock-dumb. Joel chuckles darkly as he starts a rapid pace. You bring your hands up to play with your nipples through your lingerie, but he quickly shoves your arms away before tugging at the top of the set.

He pulls just enough to let your breasts spill free, his eyes becoming transfixed on the way they bounce up and down with each of his thrusts. 

“There you go, baby, play with those pretty tits for me, now.”

He doesn’t have to tell you twice. You immediately resume your earlier actions, whining at the friction. You can feel the pressure already building up in your core, and it’s quickly enhanced as Joel brings one of his hands down to rub rough circles over your clit. You moan loudly as you quickly approach the edge.

“Feel good, sweetheart?” Joel questions as he starts making faster and tighter circles. “Gonna come all over Daddy’s dick?”

“Yes, yes,” you start. “S-so good, gonna come for you,” your voice comes out whiny and high pitched but you can’t find it in you to care. It only takes a few more seconds for you to gush around Joel’s dick. You cry out as you squeeze around him and he rides you through it. 

“T-there you go, baby girl, so fuckin’ good f’ me.” 

You can tell by the way he stutters as he speaks that he’s close again, his thrusts getting more sloppy and frantic. He doesn’t stop moving as he grabs your ankles to bring your legs back down and wrap them around his waist. You immediately cross your ankles together behind him and use them to pull him closer to you.

Once your legs are where he wants them, he brings his hand back down and touches your lips with his fingertips, requesting entry. You quickly oblige, opening your lips to allow him to dip his fingers into your mouth. Once they’re covered in your spit, he draws them back out and brings them to your overstimulated clit. 

You keen at the pressure as he starts his circles again. Somehow, your second orgasm seems to come on faster than the first. Between Joel’s fingers swirling over your clit and the way his cock is consistently slamming into that heavenly spot inside you, you’re gushing around his cock within seconds. 

Joel groans as you finish again. You barely register the way he wraps his arms around you to bring you into a semi-sitting position. The change makes it so that your tits are at the perfect height for Joel to duck down and take a nipple into his mouth, which he eagerly does. Your hand flies into his sweaty curls as he begins to suck. 

At the same time you scream, you feel his cock throb inside you, followed by thick ropes of cum painting your walls. The feeling triggers your third orgasm, and Joel finds just enough strength to pull away from your breast and find your swollen lips with his own. 

He kisses you hungrily as you both come down from your highs. He moans and grunts into your mouth as he shakes, and you readily swallow every sound. Once you both start to calm down, he settles you back onto your back and then takes the spot next to you, both of you laying on the bed while trying to catch your breath. 

“Happy birthday, old man,” you say after a few minutes. You hear Joel chuckle next to you and your smile widens. You’ll never get enough of that sound. 

“Thank you, sweet girl,” he says, choosing to ignore your ‘old man’ comment. “Couldn’t have asked for a better present.”

Your chest warms. You haven’t even given him his cake yet.

[joelsgoldrush]

“guilty pleasure” | 8.6k

worst!logan howlett x f!reader

SUMMARY: After saving Earth-10005 from impending disaster, Wade convinces Logan, the alcoholic and easily irritated mutant, to stick around for a while. He’s convinced that nothing good can come out of this experience, until he meets you: the charming bartender with a soft spot for swearing that matches his own. Suddenly, sticking around doesn’t seem so bad after all.

WARNINGS/TAGS: mdni - smut 18+ fluff. drinking. dirty talk. slow-burnish. grumpy!logan x sunshine!reader. reader is really kind but cracks a lot of jokes. age gap (25 vs 200 - they’re basically the same age). oral sex (f receiving). fingering. finger sucking. soft dom!logan. wade being the funniest asshole. logan calls reader "kiddo/kid”.

A/N: HI! first of all, i'd like to thank you for all the support you showed me on my recent post. let me just tell you that i’m LOVING writing for logan. but none of this would be possible without YOU, so yeah, i fucking love y’all.

** regarding this story, i was planning on making it even longer, but writing these two has been so much fun, and i didn’t want it to end just like that (i have attachment issues as you may infer from this note). therefore, i’ve made the decision to write a second part to this fic, which will contain fluff and other stuff (you already know the drill). i don’t know when i’ll be posting it, but i’m sure it won’t take me that long.

*** i’m also working on other one shots (purely fluff/domesticity because i want this man to cradle me in his arms). anyway, i don’t know if anyone’s going to read this, but still, all I have to say is THANK YOU FOR READING MY WORKS! i hope you really like this silly story i made up :)

**** english is not my first language so if you come across any mistakes don’t hesitate to tell me :)

special recognition to @zloshy who allowed me to rant about my own fic 😭 the sweetest human ever

The bar is far from packed, but then again, it never truly is.

Studying your regulars has become your favorite hobby. Soon you end up knowing their names, the drinks they like, and what time they come through the door. It’s what happens when standing on your own two feet and refilling glasses lose all their charm. A part of you thinks you also do it to make them feel safe. No matter how much you try to deny it, you truly care about their well-being.

Is this your dream job? Nope. Definitely not. You’re pretty sure that holding some stranger’s hair while they empty their insides wasn’t on your bingo card for this year. But sadly money doesn’t grow on trees, and university isn’t going to pay itself. Plus, this was the only job in which your resume was not immediately rejected. It should also be stressed that the drunks happen to love you. 

Perhaps this isn’t the life you had always imagined for yourself, but you were getting closer to it. You’d often talk to Adam, a retired psychologist in his seventies. He was without a doubt one of the most loyal clients you’d ever encountered. In the past, he’d even given you free advice on some of your failed hookups. You once told him that in less than two years, you’d be just like him when you got your degree in Psychology. To your surprise, he replied: “You’ll be much better than me, doll. I’m a mess, can’t you see it? You don’t wanna be like me,” his voice was hardly above a whisper as he continued. “I should be at my daughter’s birthday right now, but I didn’t get an invitation this year. Believe me, you don’t want to end up like this old man.” 

Like Adam, most of the men who frequented the bar day-to-day saw it as an opportunity to hide within the shadows. In comparison to the other pubs in the area, the one you work at doesn’t receive that much attention from the general public. A dimly lit place where only music from the 80s is allowed. You’re certain that if a health inspector ever came down here, you’d be in serious problems. But hey, you know what they say: do not worry about tomorrow; instead, live in the now.

The atmosphere of the bar shifts dramatically as the main door slams shut with a resounding thud, pulling you abruptly out of your daydreaming. You turn to see who’s arrived, but as soon as your eyes meet his, you’re compelled to look away. Nevertheless, the brief glance you catch of the stranger’s features is enough for you to unlock your phone and send a quick text to your best friend. 

You:

cutie patootie alert

there’s this really handsome guy at the bar

i don’t think i’ve ever seen him before

i think i’m in love with him

my night just got a 100% better

Allison:

age

what does he look like

is he bald?

You:

he looks like he could be in his early fifties??? it’s hard to tell UGH i wish you were here

brown hair, beard, 6’2 if i’m not wrong 

i didn’t stare at him for too long

otherwise that would’ve been very weird

and no he’s not fucking bald

that happened only once and i was not aware of that gentleman’s lack of hair 

Allison:

so you’re dating retired now

get it grandma!

You:

oh fuck you allison 

Allison: 

it’s okay girl we all have our flaws

just make sure it’s nobody’s father

wait it’s not mine right?

You:

nah your dad’s way hotter don’t you worry about it

Allison:

bitch 

Even with the music blasting through the speakers that are attached to the ceiling, you can still hear the low murmur and the whispers. The mysterious stranger seems to have attracted the attention of the other patrons, some of whom have even raised their phones to take photos. Your eyebrows draw together. Why would they do something like this, approaching the man as if he were a celebrity? Since curiosity never fails to kill the cat, you decide to get involved.

“Do I have somethin’ on my face?” you hear him ask the crowd, his raspy voice making your knees wobbly. He sounds enraged. You step on your tiptoes, trying to see what all the fuss is about, albeit it’s pretty hard considering how these men are caging him with their bodies.

The glow of a phone’s flashlight catches your attention, and suddenly, a chair is dragged without much elegance. “Enough of that, y’hear me?”

Enter you now. “Okay, gentlemen, I’m sorry. I’m gonna need you to make some space for me, alright?” you mumble as you gently push them aside. “Thank you, thank you. Y’all can be real sweethearts when you put your minds to it.”

Then you spot him, and it becomes clear why everyone is making such a fuss. 

Gary, your worst client ever, steps forward. His nasty breath clouds your senses as he rests one of his sweaty hands on your shoulder. “Doll, it’s the fucking Wolverine. Don’t ask him for a picture, though. He doesn’t seem to be in the mood for that.”

The last thing you needed to see today was a fight (despite your knowledge of who would be the winner). You locate yourself amidst them, shaking your head like a disappointed mother, so as to add a tiny bit of drama to the situation.

“Guys, what you’re doing here is completely inappropriate. I thought I’d taught you better. Imagine if I were to pull this crap on you. You wouldn’t have it.”

Adam presses his lips together, flushing a bit. “She does have a point.” 

“Thank you, peanut. You’re still my favorite,” you flash him an honest smile. Scrutinizing the rest of the men, you continue with your speech. “You can still make up for it and fill my tip jar all the way to the top. Deal?” they all scoff, barking their disagreement. “Oh, you don’t like the sound of that? Then leave him alone, okay? Class dismissed! Back to your places,” you clap your hands repeatedly, signaling them to go away. “Chop chop. All this alcohol won’t be drinking itself.”

Just like that, everything goes back to normal in the blink of an eye. Wolverine sits back down in his chair, leaning closer to the table and resting both elbows on it. He examines you, lifting his chin while his brown eyes take in every inch of you.

“Thank you,” he utters, his eyes still trained on your features. 

“No need to. It’s what I’m here for,” you point to your work clothes, which consist of an antiqued apron and a silly sticker that has your name written on it. “Can I get you anything to drink? It’s also Burger Night. You can get one for half the usual price.”

(No. It’s not fucking Burger Night. You just happen to find yourself deeply attracted to him.)

He doesn’t seem too eager to hear you talk. “Not hungry at the moment. But I could use some whiskey.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, kid. Very sure.” Well, now he does look annoyed.

“Great. I’ll be back in a minute,” you move as if you were in a race, returning to him after a hot minute. Setting his glass down on the table, you fill it with some old whiskey you don’t even know the name of. Still, he omits that detail, gulping down two-fingers of whiskey as if it were water. “I see you’re thirsty.”

“Could you leave the bottle here?” those brown puppy eyes are begging you to do as he says, and although you’d be happy to oblige, rules are rules. 

“Actually, I can’t. The bottle stays on the counter. But you can always join me at the front,” your proposal doesn’t appear to have the desired effect on him. “I won’t talk to you if that’s what you want.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” he rubs his neck, drawing a long breath as he stands up. 

You can feel many pairs of eyes searing into your soul. The others ask you for more drinks and you pour them, pricking up your ears when you hear them talking about him.

“What a weirdo. Didn’t you see it on TV? He’s not even from this universe,” Gary explains, looking for accomplices to hate on Wolverine. “Let me tell y’all something: he shouldn’t even be here. He’s fucking dead on this earth.”

Yeah… that you knew.

It had been all over the news for weeks. Some would even swear that he was back from the dead, but that was until the representatives from the TVA spoke their truth. If someone would’ve told you a month ago that multiple universes were a thing, you would’ve laughed in their face.

As if that weren’t already difficult to process, your mind does the job of reminding you that there’s a man with metal claws sitting a few meters away from you. Despite that, you can’t seem to be scared of him. There’s something magnetic about his personality and that don’t-come-near-me-or-there-will-be-consequences expression that he has. Why had you promised not to speak to him? Dammit.

“I can hear your thoughts,” a muscle in his jaw twitches after knocking back another glass of whiskey. He squeezes his eyes shut before tapping the table with two fingers, silently asking for a refill.

“I thought you didn’t want me to talk,” you raise one of your eyebrows, and you behold how the corners of his mouth turn up for an instant. “I can assure you your liver hates you.”

“Alcohol won’t kill me, so don’t be afraid. Keep ‘em coming.”

For nearly twenty minutes, he does nothing but drink. He attempts to light a cigar at some point, and you stop him. “You can’t smoke in here.”

“No special treatment?” he inquires, placing the cigar between his parted lips and tilting his head back. He’s so… dreamy. He has to know it.

“I saved your ass today. The least you can do is not cause me any trouble.”

His eyes widen at your words, blinking owlishly. “You saved my what?”

“Your goddamn ass. You were about to start a fight.”

“Blame the idiots you have for clients,” he says, jerking his thumb toward your direction. “I was just mindin’ my own business. They came for me, not the other way around.”

“Look, Wolvie. I–”

“Wolvie?” giving a bitter laugh, he rams a hand through his hair. “That’s the worst nickname I’ve heard in a long time,” he looks at you through his lashes, getting rid of his leather jacket. “It’s Logan.”

“Wow. Your name is very boybandish.”

You succeed in making him laugh once again. It’s the perfect opportunity for you to observe his face without feeling like you were just about to get caught. He has deep creases and worry lines etched between his eyebrows, a brown beard that perfectly frames his jaw, and a few white hairs scattered in his sideburns. Pearly teeth that go hand in hand with one of the most impeccable smiles you’ve ever seen, and a pair of brown eyes that make you feel weak in the knees. You know for a fact that he’s a lot older than you; his exact age remains a mystery, but his appearance is enough for you to start fantasizing.

Shit, you want him. You should feel sickened by the mere thought of being with him. He was born God knows when, has lived hundreds of years. Still, the idea of tracing his cheekbones with your fingers while lying on his chest doesn’t leave you. This is fucked up. You are fucked up. A fucked up Psychology student. The joke is pretty much self-explanatory.

“So this is where you’ve been hiding, you preening slut. Can’t even bother to answer my calls now?”

The tension between you shatters like a glass dropped onto the floor. He doesn’t dare to look in the direction of the owner of that voice, not even as the seat next to him gets taken. He pinches the bridge of his nose in frustration. “Wade, what the hell are you doin’ here?”

“It hasn’t been exactly easy, raising our kid on my own. I don’t even have money to hire a babysitter, Lo. I spent nine months carrying your child, and for what? You end up going after a bartender,” the masked man turns to you, giving a sly wink. “No offense, baby. You must be a real sweetheart. In fact, do you want my number? The name’s Wade, but you can call me whatever you like.”

“You dumb fuck. Are you flirtin’ with her?”

“No shit, smartass. You’re the future of this country.”

A soft giggle escapes you despite your attempt to hold it back. You take a step back, admiring the two men. “Well, aren’t you two a beautiful couple?”

“You should see our little munchkin. He’s got my eyes and Logan’s hair. His first word was gubernatorial.”

“Would you like to have a drink while you’re here?”

“A beer would be great. Thank you, sugarbear. You’re the cutest,” Wade sinks back into his chair, resting his chin on his palm. He jerks his head in Logan’s direction, bumping his shoulder. “She’s the cutest. Are you two together?”

Logan rubs his forehead, speaking through gritted teeth. “How did you find me?”

“It's the power of love, baby. I had It’s All Coming Back To Me Now on repeat for hours. Couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

Handing Wade a cold beer, your eyes scan Logan’s face. “I didn’t know patience was your strongest suit.”

“Me neither.”

“Enough of that! I can’t stand not being included in a conversation,” Wade throws his hands in the air, and you look at him. “There you are. So, what about you? Are you even allowed to be here? Did bars change their policies?”

You can’t help but snort. “I’m 25.”

Wade looms closer, lowering his voice. “Now that I think about it, you could totally be Logan’s caretaker. He’s been having some issues recently, given his age. Do you… know anything about adult diapers?”

But then Logan’s face contorts, turning crimson. He rises from his seat, grabbing Wade’s arm. “That’s it. We’re leavin’,” his eyes lock on you for a moment. “How much do I owe you?”

“Don’t worry about it. It’s on the house.”

The things you’re willing to do for a man, right? You should be ashamed of yourself.

(But you aren’t.)

His mouth hangs open in disbelief. “Kiddo, are you–”

“Completely sure,” you finish his sentence for him, bowing your head and clasping your arms behind your body. A tight-lipped smile takes over you. “Just don’t tell my boss.”

Wade shifts his gaze back and forth between Logan and you. “I usually don’t mind third-wheeling, but I sort of feel left out.”

“I’m gonna sew your mouth shut, Wade.”

“Oh, come on! I was just making small talk,” the masked man tries to excuse himself while Logan pushes him towards the door. “It was a pleasure meeting you, sunshine. I’m free on Thursdays. Hit me up if his whiskey dick fails to impress you! Mine’s way more agile and young!”

As you watch them leave the bar, you remain frozen in your place amidst the clamor of ongoing chatter and clinking glasses.

What the fuck had just happened?

“Patrick’s normally the first one to get wasted during weekends,” you explain to the blonde woman sitting in front of you, and she writes that information down in her notebook. “He can usually handle himself, but at some point, he’ll try to call his ex-wife, and that’s when you know you need to stop serving him.”

She clicks her tongue, the color draining out of her face. “This is… definitely a lot to remember. I think I already forgot half of what you said.”

You shake your head, shoving your hands in your pockets. “You’ll get used to it, believe me. I’ll be with you at all times, so if you have any doubts, just ask me.”

After a whole year of working solo at the bar, you finally get to have a coworker: Gwen, a mother of two teenagers in her forties. You had met her at the grocery store, and in the process of helping her find a specific brand of cookies, you found out that she had recently lost her job. One thing led to another, and now she’s your trainee.

Your savior complex strikes again!

It has been four days since your first encounter with Logan. The thought that he could show up at any moment makes your heart race and your hands sweat. Allison had received countless voice messages where you narrated the entire experience in full detail. 

Touching your arm softly, Gwen’s face lights up. “Another man came in. Is he a regular? I don’t think you told me about him.”

Fuck, it’s him. Manifesting does work wonders. He locks eyes with you and raises a hand in greeting.

“Leave this one to me,” you tell her as your feet take you to where Logan’s sitting, contemplating the way in which his leather jacket hugs his wide frame. “Long time no see.”

“Hey, kid,” he grins. “What’s up?”

“Nothing much. Nobody has puked yet, so that’s a good thing,” you crinkle your nose, shifting your weight from one foot to the other. “Whiskey?”

“You know me so well,” a smirk takes place in his lips, and he smiles cockily. “Though this time, I won’t be leavin’ without payin’.”

“We’ll see about that,” you go back to your usual spot behind the counter, looking for a glass. Your cheeks kind of hurt from smiling so hard. Next to you, Gwen studies your reaction to seeing Logan. “Is that your boyfriend?”

You almost drop the whiskey bottle. “God, no. He’s not my boyfriend. Barely know the guy.”

“It’s funny,” she says, raising her eyebrows with a knowing look, as if she knows something you don’t. “He hasn’t stopped looking at you since he arrived.”

“It’s probably because of this,” you reply, lifting the bottle in her direction before pouring a small amount into a glass. Just as you’re about to walk over to him, a girl slides into the sit beside him, her long blonde hair swept up in a ponytail. She’s wearing a stunning red dress and black heels. You wonder if she’s a model, because she certainly looks like one.

Her hand creeps up his arm, fingernails scraping against the worn leather. Although Logan’s expression is hard to read, he doesn’t even flinch.

“You know what? Here’s his drink– You take care of it. I’ll stay here,” you don’t give Gwen a chance to talk back, instead staying behind the bar, engaging in small talk with other clients. 

“Doll, are you okay?” Adam asks you after noticing you struggling to open a beer bottle. He takes it from your hands and opens it with ease. “There you go.”

“Thank you, Adam. I’m fine, never been better. Why you ask?

“You sure?”

“Affirmative.”

“You mixed up our drinks,” he explains in his most psychologist-like voice. “This never happens to you. Michael has my wine, and I’ve got his martini.”

“Fuck! I’m so sorry. I just— I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” you chew on your bottom lip, rubbing your temples. “I feel stupid.”

“Oh, please. Don’t say that. You’re far from being stupid,” he sits up straight, reaching for your fingers and giving them an apologetic squeeze. “If you ask me, I think you’ve got your mind on someone else,” he must notice how you visibly get tense because he adds: “Remember: I know when you’re lying. You didn’t charge him the other day, which means that you must really like him,” taking a tentative sip of the martini he didn’t even ordered, Adam shrugs. “I’m a great observer. That’s all.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you see the blonde girl from before returning to where her friends are chatting. Logan is left alone, and you watch him grab his glass and head towards the counter.

“As I said, your mind’s somewhere else,” Adam sighs, a tiny smirk tugging at his lips. “Go get your man. I’ll survive.”

“Not my man. But thanks, older-and-wiser-version-of-cupid.”

Pretending not to have seen Logan, you continue with your work. He remains silent for some minutes before finally saying: “Hi.”

Hi? It sounds so out of character for him.

“Hey, claws,” you force a smile, still avoiding to meet his gaze. “Do you need anything?”

Logan points to his empty glass, like a toddler asking for more cereal. “I also wanted to talk to you.”

“I thought you were busy over there,” you say, surprisingly managing to sound nonchalant, despite the jealousy bubbling underneath your friendly tone. “Did you get her number?”

“What? No.”

“Why not? She’s cute.”

Yeah, maybe you don’t sound as collected as you think.

Whether Logan notices it or not, he chooses not to mention it. He folds his arms over his chest, fixing his brown eyes on you. “I’m not interested.”

“And what is it that interests you, champ?” your question elicits a low chuckle from him. Just as he opens his mouth to seemingly reply, Gwen appears out of nowhere to ask you about the price of a certain drink. Your gaze shifts between her and Logan, who remains focused on you while sipping his drink.

After that, Gwen leaves. The man in front of you goes poker-faced, pursing his lips, and his abrupt change in demeanor alarms you. “Wade wants to have dinner tomorrow at his apartment– well, our apartment. I live with him now. It’s complicated,” he adds with a dismissive wave of his hand, and you laugh. “Anyway, he asked me to tell you that you’re invited. I know we don’t know each other that much, but… he said you seem like someone worth havin’ around,” he mumbles awkwardly, eyes downcast. “I think the same as well.”

You could die at peace.

“You’re a lucky fucker because I don’t work on Sundays,” you quip, smiling. “I’d be more than happy to attend your feast.”

“Great. I thought you would turn down the invitation.”

“Now why would you think that?”

“‘Cause you barely know me– us,” he corrects himself rapidly. “Plus, Wade’s annoying as hell when he puts his mind to it. You’ll see.”

“Marital problems?” he actually in response. “I’ll take that as a ‘yes’. Oh, I’ll bring the dessert.”

“You don’t have to.”

“But I do want to,” you tilt your head in an effort to hide your longing for him.

“Just want to get under my skin, huh? I can see why Wade likes you,” Logan beams, reaching out to tuck a $100 bill into the pocket of your apron. “The tip’s included.”

“I don’t know how things work in your universe, but you’re giving me way more money than you’re supposed to. I can't accept this.”

“Oh, but you will,” his gravelly voice fucks your system up, and you’re glad he can’t see how you squeeze your legs together behind the bar.

He writes down Wade’s address on a random napkin, holding his breath as he stands up. “I should get goin’. See you tomorrow then.”

Before he walks out the door, you stop him. “Logan? You didn’t answer my other question.”

His back shakes momentarily with laughter. Turning around to face you, his stare leaves you even more confused. “Good night, doll.”

This is becoming a habit: every time he goes away, you feel as though you’ve just run a marathon with no water available. Your mouth is completely dry, your fingers are numb and there’s a knot in your stomach that’s becoming all too familiar.

“Would you mind telling me where you got him?” Gwen’s voice makes you almost jump out of your skin.

“He’s not from around here. I think he’s Canadian.”

You’ve got this. You’ve got this. You’ve got this.

Knocking softly on Wade’s door, you step back, the container holding the tiramisu cold to your touch. It’s your first time trying out this recipe, so you’re expecting it to at least not taste like shit.

Wade answers the apartment door, acting surprised when you remain silent. “Well, look what the wind blew in: if it isn’t my husband’s lover. How dare you? We’re still going to couples therapy.”

You show him the container, and he squints at it. “Tiramisu. You want it or not?”

“I hate twenty-somethings,” he says with a defeated sigh, stepping aside to let you into the apartment. 

Leaving your purse on the nearest surface, you scan the living room, wondering where Logan might be. There’s a small mirror beneath the couch, and you check yourself for the hundredth time tonight. “Don’t get too excited. He’s still showering,” Wade’s voice rings in your ears, and you turn to look at him, your eyebrows knitted. “Yeah. I noticed. You’re already drooling over that big piece of metal between his legs.”

“Keep quiet!” you cover his mouth with your palm, noticing the scarred state of his skin up close. “Wade, you fucking dog. Are you licking my hand?”

“Couldn’t help it. You taste like mascarpone cheese and espresso.”

Then Logan emerges from the bathroom, with only a white towel draped around his waist. Droplets of water fall from his wet hair, tracing the muscle of his abs, ending somewhere beneath his happy trail. Your eyes keep flickering between him and his torso until he clears his throat. “I thought you were comin’ later.”

“Me too, but I…,” you trail off, your brain struggling to catch up, “I didn’t know what else to do at my place.”

“It’s fine. Just– let me put on some clothes.”

“Please don’t,” Wade murmurs next to you, but Logan only scoffs. “I was just being honest. Communication is key.”

When Wade and you are alone again, he lets out a harsh breath. “That was probably the hottest thing I’ve ever seen. My pants are really tight right now.”

“Thin walls, buddy!” Logan shouts from his bedroom, earning a laugh from you. 

Like A Prayer starts playing. Wade moves his hips to the beat, getting lost in the melody. “Is that your phone?”

“Yeah, but I always take a few seconds to dance to it. Such a banger!” he says, then picks up his phone, accepting the call. “Hey, Ness! What´s up?” Wade covers the speaker before telling you: “It’s Vanessa. My ex-girlfriend. We fuck once a week, sometimes even twice.”

From behind, Logan nudges your arm with his, looking at you. ”Hey, kid.”

“No, I’m not busy at all,” Wade exclaims, grabbing his crotch and thrusting into the air. “I’ll be there in ten, cupcake. See you,” he spreads his arms wide and whistles. “Someone’s getting laid tonight!”

“You made me come all the way here… and now you’re leaving?”

“What? My friend Wolverine wanted to invite you over. I just had to provide the apartment,” in one quick movement, he presses a kiss to your cheek, then does the same to Logan. “Shave yourself, will you?”

“Go fuck yourself, will you?”

“Love you too, honey. Hope you two lovebirds have a good night, because I know I will!”

Wade throws a wink over his shoulder before heading out, the apartment going dead silent. Logan and you stand frozen, staring at each other, although he quickly drops his gaze, unable to maintain eye contact. A giggle threatens to escape you: he wanted to see you. Could he possibly enjoy your company as much as you enjoy his?

Logan watches the spot where Wave had just been. The absence of his chaotic energy makes the room feel strangely empty now. He coughs lightly, the sound awkwardly loud in the quiet room.

“So... I, uh, bought pizza,” he says, his voice a little too casual, as if trying to cover up his nervousness. Averting his eyes, he focuses on the pizza boxes on the table.

You catch the hesitation in his tone, your curiosity piqued by his discomfort. Tilting your head, a teasing smile forms on your lips. “Pizza, huh? You sure know how to impress a girl.”

Logan chuckles, the sound strained, as he scratches the back of his neck. “Yeah, well, I figured it was a safe choice. Didn’t want to ruin it, y’know?”

You move closer to the table, the warmth from the pizza boxes radiating against your hands as you open one of them. The rich smell of melted cheese and pepperoni fills the air, a comforting scent that makes your stomach growl softly. “Thank you. I’m a big fan of pizza.”

He sits in the chair across from you, taking a bite of his slice. You watch him quietly, your own thoughts churning. The truth of his origins had been a shock at first, but now, it just made you want to know more about the man. What was his life like in the other universe? Did he miss it? Was he happier here, or was he longing to return?

“Logan…,” you begin, your tone gentle but probing, “Can I ask you something?”

He glances up at you, eyes widening. There’s something in your eyes –an understanding, maybe– that makes him feel like you could see right through him. 

“Sure,” he replies, trying to sound more at ease than he really feels. “Ask away.”

You hesitate for a moment, not wanting to push too hard. “I was wondering... would it be okay if I asked you some questions? About, you know, your life. Where you're from.”

The bite of pizza suddenly feels heavy in his mouth. He hadn’t talked much about his world, not even with Wade. Partly because it was too painful, and partly because he wasn’t sure how to explain how things turned out for him. He nods slowly, setting his slice down. “Yeah, it's okay. I’ll answer what I can.”

“I just... I want to understand you better.”

“Well, first and foremost, I’m no hero. You should know that by now.”

“I beg to differ.”

“Kid, I’m the worst Logan. A complete failure. Of all the variants out there, Wade just had to pick the one despised by every living soul on his earth,” Logan looks away, his voice low and heavy. You’re wondering if doing this was a good idea. “I need a drink.”

He gets up and you follow him into the kitchen. He rummages through the fridge, in search of a cold beer. Meanwhile, you attempt to find the right words. “I don’t think–”

With a sharp flick of his wrist, three metal claws sprout from between his knuckles. A gasp catches in your throat as he uses his claws to pierce the beer can, drinking from the punctured holes. Once he’s done, he goes back to staring at you. Your gaze, on the other hand, is still glued to the now-empty beer can. “What?” he asks, exhaling slowly.

“That was completely unnecessary,” you mutter, and he lets out a bitter chuckle, tossing the can into the trash. “But, back to what you said before– I don’t think you’re the worst Logan.”

“You didn’t know me back then, darlin’. I fucked it up,” he leans against the counter, arms crossed defensively over his chest. “Like the Logan from this universe, I once belonged to the X-Men too. I remember that Scott used to beg me to wear my suit. So did Jean, Storm, Beast– All of them,” his gaze grows more distant, and you can tell that memories are flooding his mind. “Wanted me to be part of the team, but I wouldn’t do it. Told them they looked fucking ridiculous.”

The pizza’s long forgotten. You take the risk and get a bit closer to him, your eyes never leaving his. 

Logan’s silence stretches for a moment before he speaks again. “One day, while I was off on my own, the humans came. They went mutant hunting.”

Your heart clenches at the pain in his voice. He still remembers everything as if it had happened yesterday. “I can guess the rest. You don’t have to–”

But he cuts you off. “No, let me say it. I need to say it,” he takes a deep breath, lowering his head. “By the time I stumbled home, shit-faced from the bar, it was too late. They were dead. They called after me and I walked away.”

Reaching out, your hand gently brushes against his. He doesn’t pull away, but instead searches for your eyes. “My suit's all I've got to remind me of who they were. What I did. I found them and they were… dead. I started killing, and I couldn’t stop. I didn’t want to stop. I turned the whole world against the X-Men.”

You tighten your grip on his hand, knowing there’s nothing you can do to change how he feels. “You’re not a bad person, Logan,” he shakes his head, mumbling something you can’t quite catch. “I mean it. What happened back then doesn’t define you. You took the blame for their deaths upon yourself. I can tell you loved them deeply, and I’ll never fully understand the pain you feel. I wish I could. I wish I could take it away, make you forget somehow, but I can’t. That’s not how life works. But you got your second chance: you saved this world. My world,” gently cupping his face in your hands, you allow your fingers to caress his cheeks. He leans into your touch, watching you with half-lidded eyes. “You’re my hero. I’m your biggest fan– after Wade, obviously, which is a lot to say.”

He grins, letting out a laugh. “Easy there, bub.”

“Should I give you some space?”

That’s the last thing he wants from you right now. You already know that as he looks you up and down, placing his hands on the small of your back, his thumbs drawing small circles on your skin. There’s no turning back– The warmth between you feels almost like a fever dream. “For a long time, all I wanted was to disappear. I couldn’t stand waking up every morning, knowing that another day awaited me.”

“And what happened?” your breath mingles with his, his closeness becoming nearly intoxicating. “What changed?”

“I met a pretty girl at a pub, that’s what happened,” he murmurs, his dilated pupils flicking up to meet your gaze. “I’m gonna kiss you now.”

“Do all your kisses come with a warning?”

“God, do you ever shut up?”

You don’t have time to respond because he kisses you there and then. His stubble scrapes your skin as your mouths meet again and again, needy hands that hold you as if you were prone to breaking. Logan licks into your mouth, sliding his tongue against yours and swallowing every one of your whimpers.

“So this is what it takes to shut you up, huh?” he murmurs against your lips. You can feel him smiling, and it makes your heart skip a beat. 

“Keep talking and you won’t get a single bite of my tiramisu,” you tease him, kissing him again, the taste of beer numbing your senses. “I really like kissing you.”

“The feeling’s mutual, but now that you’ve mentioned that tiramisu…”

“Am I that easily replaced?”

“No. You’re just a pain in the ass.”

Jokes aside, you’re as happy as a clam.

Since that night you and Logan kissed, you’ve been living your best life. Like a freaking schoolgirl with a crush. Some things never seem to change.

He hasn’t been to the bar in three days. Yes, you’re counting them. No, you haven’t lost your mind. You want to see him, but there’s something about making the first move that gives you the chills. What would his reaction be if you showed outside of apartment?

It’s been a long time since you’ve been with anybody. On top of that, all the guys you’ve dated were your age. Being with someone that older than you certainly wasn’t no your plans. You’d be lying if you said that the mere idea of being with him in that way didn’t excite you.

Oh boy, you miss him. You miss his scruffy voice, his gorgeous hair. And you two aren’t even official yet. To be honest, you don’t even know what he wants from you. Is he even the type to be in a relationship?

“Nighty night, gentlemen,” you say to Gary and his friends as you find yourself in front of them, smoothing your apron. Gwen had called in sick tonight, so it’s just you at the bar babysitting a bunch of grown-men.

“What’s up, doll? You’ve forgotten about us. We miss you coming in here to chat,” Gary’s eating his burger at the same time he speaks, something you find repulsive, but you’ve seen worse. “Y’know, I’d love to take you out someday. I have a place you’d like.”

The other men laugh and punch him in the back, just boosting his ego. Pathetic. 

“I’ll let you know when I’m free,” you reply with the most polite smile you can offer, intending to go on. “What are you having tonight?”

“You always pull that shit, baby. I don’t think you’re so busy that you can’t accept a date.”

You hate the way he’s looking at you, as if you were wrong for not being interested. As if you didn’t know any better.

“You’re reading minds now? Shocking, Gary.”

“Oh, doll. That attitude of yours shows you’ve never been with a real man like me, that’s all,” he leans back in his chair, resting one of his arms on the table and the other one near his crotch, manspreading. “It’s alright. I like you bratty.”

“I’ll be back when you finally have something to order,” you attempt to turn around but he grabs your wrist, pulling you closer. Your eyes lock, and he seems to enjoy this: being in control. Like a predator hunting his prey. “Come on, Gary. I don’t want to have to kick you out.”

“It’s not that you don't like me, right? You’ve already got your mouth full.”

“Careful.”

“What? Don’t tell me you’re not fucking that useless mutant. I see you like ‘em older. Pretty little things like you drive me wild.”

You laugh in his face, showing him your teeth. “It was never about your age, Gary. You’re right: I do like them older. I’m just not into bald, vertically-challenged pricks.”

His entourage of idiots goes silent after that. He looks up at you, eyes burning with hatred. His grip on your wrist tightens, probably leaving a mark. “Fucking bitch.”

“Get your hands off her.”

Logan’s voice forces the two of you to look in his direction. It seems that he’s just arrived at the pub, his jacket still on. 

“You joining us? We’re just getting started here, big boy.”

“Did you not hear me?” Logan lunges forward, his nose almost touching Gary’s. “The fuck is wrong with you?”

“Easy there, cowboy. I’m just having a chat with your girl. She’s one of the good ones, I’ll give you that,” arching a sly brow, his forehead puckers. “You don’t like sharing? We can even take turns.”

Logan clenches his jaw, lips set in a grim line. “Say one more word, and I’ll fucking kill you.”

“I’ll give you a full sentence instead: can you even get it up?” 

The tension in the air is thick, every second stretching out as Logan's anger simmers dangerously close to the surface. Gary’s smug grin only makes it worse, pushing him to the edge. Before you can react, Logan’s fist swings forward, connecting with Gary’s jaw with a sickening crack. Gary staggers back, realising your wrist. Blood seeps from his nose, his white shirt becoming stained with it. “You fucker! You broke my nose!”

“We’re just getting started here, big boy,” Logan mocks him, repeating his previous words.

“Stop!” you shout, moving quickly to grab his arm, trying to pull him back. But he’s beyond hearing, his rage blinding him to everything else. He shakes you off, and with a fierce growl, drives another punch into Gary’s stomach. The latter doubles over, gasping for air, the wind knocked out of him. He then falls to the floor, curling into a ball. People start to gather around you, and soon your beloved bar becomes a box ring.

“That’s enough, Logan! He’s barely conscious,” you murmur under your breath, stepping between them, hands up in a desperate attempt to create some space. Logan pauses, chest heaving, fists still clenched, as he finally looks at you. The wildness in his eyes starts to fade, replaced by a dawning realization of what he’s done.

“He deserved it,” he nods vigorously to himself, as if trying to explain his point. “He was hurting you.”

“If you keep that up, you’re going to kill him. My bar is not a fucking cemetery,” your voice trembles a little bit, expecting to talk some sense into him. “I won’t let you do this.”

The room is quiet now, the only sound being Logan’s heavy breathing as he stands there, still tense, still processing. You turn to Gary’s friends, cold fury in your eyes. “Get him out of here,” you watch as they haul him up, practically dragging him to the door. The other clients continue to stare at Logan, their mouths hanging open. “Everybody out, right now! Go home. We’re closing earlier tonight.”

Adam is the last person to leave, slamming the door behind him. You rush to the counter, searching for a mop to clean the fresh blood off the floor. Still agitated, the images of Logan hitting Gary flash in your mind. He approaches you from behind, his fingers circling your forearm. “Bub–”

“Don’t. Now is not the time.”

“I was protecting you.”

“I told you to stop, and you didn’t. You just shook me off,” you snap, glancing at his knuckles which are not even bruised. Slamming your eyes shut, you get to your feet and wash your hands in the sink, the remaining water becoming reddish for a moment.

Logan moves closer, resting his chin on your shoulder. He wraps his arms lazily around your middle section. ”I’m sorry.”

You turn in his arms, your back flushed against the sink and your nose in the air. “Why didn’t you call me?”

“I don’t have a phone.”

“But– Jesus, Logan. You could’ve come sooner. I thought you regretted what happened the other day,” you say and the muscles in his face twitch, his body stiffening at your words. “Thought you no longer wanted me.”

“No, bub. I– I still want you. I want all of you, trust me,” he murmurs, and you allow him to press his body against yours, the scent of the cigar he must have smoked recently enveloping your senses. “I just… don’t know how to do this. I have a habit of ruining things, and I’m trying to figure out the best way to be with you without hurting you.”

“Pushing me away also hurts,” your eyes flick up to meet his gaze again, and he whispers under his breath. “I can’t read your mind. You need to tell me what’s going on in that ancient skull of yours.”

His face falters, flashing you a mischievous look. His hand creeps under the fabric of your shirt, fingernails scrapping against your spine. “I’m sorry, princess. I truly am.”

“You can’t just say ‘sorry’ with that voice and expect me to–”

You’re cut off by his lips crashing down onto yours. You melt into the kiss, unable to deny what your body has been craving for the past days. 

“I thought your kisses came with a warning,” you say, detaching your mouth from his, a smile spreading uncontrollably in your face as you see his toothy grin.

“Shut up and kiss me, will you?”

In a clash of tongues and teeth, your mouths meet once again. Tugging the hair at his nape, you feel him growl against your lips. His strong hands trace every curve of your body, kneading the flesh of your hips and undoing the knot at the back of your apron. You’re becoming one with the sink, but in a moment like this, you couldn’t care less. Logan’s hard on nudges your lower stomach, and he ruts against you like an animal.

“You said you wanted to know what’s on my mind, right?” his teeth nibble on the skin of your neck, syrupy voice going straight to your core. “Well, I’d love nothing more than to touch you right now.”

“Right here? On the counter?”

“Yeah, on the fucking counter,” he grabs you by your thighs, hosting you up and placing your body on top of the cold bar. He nudges your knees apart, his bulge meeting your clothed cunt deliciously. “Will you let me, baby? Can I make you come in here?”

“Please. I’m glad we have such a low budget. Camera installment is t–too expensive these days.”

“Do you always talk this much?” he slowly unbuttons your pants, and you help him to remove them.

“Yes. Next question,” your breath hitches in your throat as you feel the pad of his thumb circling your clit through your panties. Your eyelids drop, your head lolling back. “Fuck, that feels good.”

Logan hums, mesmerized with the way your hips roll into his hand, your whimpers sounding like music to his ears. “You have any idea how I felt when I saw him touching you? Wanted to rip his hands off you,” his eyes drift to your chest, how it rises and falls with impatience. “But it’s me who gets to have you like this. He can fantasize about you all he wants: I’m the only one who touches you, ain’t I right?” you sigh with content as his fingers graze your slit, aimlessly bucking your hips. He doesn’t go any further, and you tug at the collar of his flannel, needing more of his callousand hands on you. “Nuh-uh. You want something, you gotta use your words. Got it?”

“I w–want your fingers inside me,” you don’t even recognize your own voice at this point. The few guys you had slept with had never been very talkative during sex. But Logan isn’t like them. This is just the beginning and you’re already starting to realize that he has a dirty mouth, that expectant look on his face as he waits to see your reaction to his words. “Please, Logan. I want you so bad.”

“Oh, I know, bub. There’s something about me I don’t think you know,” he inserts one of his fingers in your cunt, your slick coating the palm of his hand. “These claws I have… they didn’t come on their own. Let’s just say my sense of smell is… pretty good,” Logan can almost see the gears turning in your head as you try to think coherently. He moves his middle finger in and out of you, stretching your walls. “And you… have been wet ever since the first time you saw me. Always nice to everybody, making sure they feel at ease,” you feel like you’re being stretched even further, another one of his fingers sinking into your warm pussy. “But you’re so needy, too. How long has it been since someone touched you like this?”

“Too long, f–fuck. Too long,” you’re squirming, a totally whiny mess. He retratcs his wet fingers and instead goes back to flicking your clit, this time with much less delicacy. His left hand squeezes your tits, and you hate the fact that you’re still wearing clothes. “Shit, Logan. I need you to fuck me. Please. Need your cock.”

His face comes to rest at your neck, and you feel lingering kisses and bites that keep you grounded to earth. “Not here. I need a bed to fuck you properly. You’re only getting my fingers now,” he positions them inches away from your entrance, testing your patience. “Tell me who owns this pussy.”

“L-logan–”

“Tell me and I’ll make you come,” his husky voice is making you dizzy, tears shimmering in your eyes. “Come on. Know you want it as much as I do.”

You succumb to the tentation, like divinity turned to sin. He kisses you roughly, and you struggle to find the correct words. “It’s you, Logan. You own my pussy. It’s f-fucking yours.”

With that, he goes back to nudging that spot that makes you see starts, that filthy squelching sound getting mixed up with your moans. The knot in your belly keeps growing tighter the more he pumps his fingers in and out of you. 

“I said you were only getting my fingers for now, but fuck… I need to gest a taste of this sweet cunt.”

He’s on his knees in an instant, urging your legs apart to make room for his body. Your thighs tighten around his face as he licks a hot stripe up your folds, tracing a heated path on your cunt, not wishing to waste a single second. Pleasure builds quickly, your breath hitching as your hands find their way into his hair, pulling him closer when your body begins to tremble. 

“I’m close,” you pant, breathing hard, grinding your hips against his face. “I’m so close.”

“That’s it. Come in my mouth like the good girl you are.”

Who had given him a damn script for this?

The release is explosive. Like the peak of a roller coaster: you go up up up, ascending higher. You think you almost see Jesus, but at some point, you also have to crash down with force. Your shoulders slump, your entire body cramping up; yet he doesn’t let you go that easily, his fingers still working, scissoring within you while you ride out the final waves of your high, drawing out every last moment of ecstasy.

Once you finally manage to open your eyes, there he is, staring down at you. He taps your lower lip with his fingers, and then mutters: “Open.”

And you do, because you’re just as messed up as he is. Your mouth parts, and he slides his fingers between your lips, dragging them smoothly across your tongue. His knuckles brush the back of your throat, and you gag around the intrusion, tasting yourself. He pulls his fingers out of your mouth, clearly satisfied with the way you’ve cleaned them off.

“I think we should really pay a visit to your apartment,” he suggests, groaning in defeat, and you feel his bulge poking your hip. He must be painfully hard. “I meant what I said earlier. I need a bed if we’re going to fuck. My back’s hurting.”

You raise an eyebrow, the corner of your mouth curving into a smirk. “Why not go to yours?”

“Wade’s in there. I wouldn’t be able to concentrate.”

You can’t help but laugh, pausing a moment to collect your thoughts, heat rising to your cheeks. “So we’re going rodeo?”

Aiming to silence up, Logan kisses you, pinching your chin between his thumb and forefinger. “Only if you can handle it.”

part 2: “GIVE ME THE FIRST TASTE”

dividers by: @/cafekitsune thank you!!! :)

[pedge-page]

Live a Little, Give a Little

Joel Miller x F!Reader

Summary: You're looking to boost your OnlyFans ratings with a big public stunt. Lucky for you, an eager stranger happily helps you out, and gives you more than you expected!

Warnings: Exhibitionism, public sex, train sex, being caught, unprotected sex, creampie, groping, dub con, thigh fucking, mention of oral / cum eating, male masturbation, (*SPOILER*pregnancy) surprise at the end at the end :)

18+ ONLY

- - - -

Starting an Only Fans account to earn a bit extra money turned into something a bit more of a hobby than a cash grab. You enjoyed the attention you got from the thousands of strangers, particularly men, who lurked on the internet, asking you to do ridiculous things for their sexual pleasure. The higher your ratings went up, the more they were willing to pay. And the less likely you were to say no.

Which is how you find yourself on a crowded public train during rush hour, wearing a tight as fuck blouse with your tits ready to burst out if you sucked in too big a breath and a short frilly skirt that came higher than the lowest part of your ass cheeks with no panties, bare pussy out for anyone to see.

Or touch, for that matter.

You’re standing close to one of the doors, facing towards the city passing by in a blur through the window. You should be more nervous than wet. People brush by you, or press up against you, touching your lower back then going along like it was something innocent. You know there’s at least a few perverted fucks on here who are thinking with their cocks with just one look at you. It’s hot as hell on the rattling cage, though that could just be your exhillerated nerves. Your face feels warm, hands clammy at the hope that one of these men will “accidentally” grope you—and they’ll be in one hell of a surprise. 

 You feel the presence of a particularly large, built man behind you. You can’t see him, but he hasn’t made an attempt to squeeze by either. He just stands there, looming, close enough to feel his breath  against your shoulder when he sighs. 

This is the one.

You can’t even see this strangers face, but you intentionally bump your butt against him. The train sways, and a warm, thick palm comes up to your hip, holding you securely—no, pulling you closer to him. You gasp a bit, not ready for your senses to be so on edge by his bluntness. Maybe it was an accident. But by the way his hand is still gripping you so close, maybe not…?

The train stops swaying, returning to a smooth track despite the hoard of people it carries. His hand starts to retreat. You quickly tuck your elbow in, grazing his forearm with determination: don’t leave, you plea.

His beefy fist only pauses for a second, as if contemplating your gesture. It continues back down to his side, to your disappointment.

What you didn’t know was how he was staring down your back, noticing something very bold, very daring, and very pretty hiding under your skirt.

He flicks his wrist back up as if to rub his nose, and there he sees it: your naked ass on display, swishing daringly, as if on cue, to flash him before the fabric settles back over.

Your eyes close when that little breeze fades. He’s seen it. There’s no doubt. You can hear him clearing his throat before he’s pushing his full front against your back.

“Mmmf!” You peep, biting your lip not to moan when his massive fucking bulge pokes against your slit. The train is packed even more tightly now, though that doesn’t bother you in the slightest. Your perverted savior’s fingers are dancing along your upper thighs, delicately rubbing little circles, tickling your skin and hiking up your pathetic excuse for closing to feel more of you.

The scratch of his beard against the back of your head tells you that he’s looking around, head on a swivel to see if anyone has caught wind of your dirty little secret.

Stomach clenching with exhilaration, you hope he makes another bold move to feel just how much you’re dripping, all clenched up between your thighs to prevent leakage. All because of him.

The stranger looks down and can see a phone in your hand, easily pointing towards your bum. And even less obvious, the camera being on and displaying your lower half and his.

He smirks to himself, brushing off his groan with a cough again.

He does what any man would do and pulls his dick out. 

Almost too easily.

The man pushes closer to you so others can scoot by behind him. There’s no way he’s going to let anyone come between you two right now.

 You hope the next stop isn’t for a long while now.

Fuck, here it goes.

You let your free hand drop down behind you and tug his cock playfully. Jesus Christ, he’s fucking huge! It jumps excitedly in your hand, warm and hard as a rock, fleshy, beating in your grasp. You can feel his sticky precum smearing against your inner thigh. The poor thing just begging for attention. 

You loved attention.

More struggled grunts behind you. Rubbing his nose excessively, clenching his jaw and looking around the compartment. Nothing mattered to you more at this moment, not even being on a crowded train, than getting that girthy slab of meat inside you. Your legs work of their own according, parting ever so slightly. 

He senses it. The man sheaths himself closer upon your invite, your body melting into his muscular physique, broad and overpowering your physical senses. Everything around you screamed him. His smell, his chest rumbling, his belly conforming to the arch in your back. His digits slide in front of your thighs, carving up under your skirt and between your legs to feel the generous slick drooling from your clit.

He stifles a groan at the same time you swallow your whimper. Jesus, his fingers were thick too, rolling over your clit as you tugged on his erect member.

He glances at the phone in your other trembling hand. You feel the strong embrace of his paw hold it steady, and your heart drops knowing he’s aware you’re filming the two of you—but more so that he’s encouraging it. He sees your cute ass cheeks and dripping pussy on display while his cock slides into frame. 

He defiles you so considerably slow, gliding his length along your folds, collecting the slick to lube himself. Fucking your thighs. Teasing your little nub with the hooked slink of his tip each time he pressing forward and then up.

The static sound of the train speaker comes to life as the conductor announces gibberish, conveniently muffling that cry you let out when he slides his pulsing cock into you. He’s got you pinned, knees braced as he pushes in fully. You can’t help but jolt forward, falling against the door with your hand braced out to hold you. 

It’s so full, engulfing every millimeter of space and then some inside you. So unlike the cold silicon dildo’s you’ve been fucking yourself with for your fans every week. You had almost forgot what it was like to have a real man inside, warm and twitching and fucking massively alive, but my god, never one this fucking filling. He stretches your walls like a gum band around an elephant.

You don’t need to see the reflection of your cross-eyed fucked out expression in the window in front of you. He can see it though, pride settling over his bones at what a fucking whore you must be to let a stranger impale you on a crowded train.

Though, given how wet you were, he’s curious if he’s the first.

He starts languidly thrusting, casually glancing around and coughing his grunts to see if anyone is looking. They’re slow, methodic. Blending in with the natural bouncing of the train car. 

Your tits smash against the glass, the buttons of your blouse almost begging to tear. While it seemed no one inside the train with you might be called to your attention, anyone looking from outside towards the train would be able to see you in the compromising position. 

His palm splays out over your tummy, making sure your ass sticks out and happily engulfs his throbbing cock into your tight heat. Thank God the rumbling of the wheels on the track mask the squelching noises and patted slapping of skin against skin. 

He’s leaned so close, the scruff of his beard tickling your temple, but the ripple of the moving city prevents you from being able to see his image clearly. You catch just feint glimmers of brown and grey curls, patches along his beard—combined with his rough and calloused demeanor. You’re certain that he’s much older than you had originally guessed.

Fuck, if that isn’t hot as hell.

You’re barely holding in moans now. He fingernails dig into your skin, warning you. But you want him to hear, to encourage his fucking of your slutty cunt. The desire to feel him in your stomach for days, long after he’s disappeared. You want him to leave a mark, a memento so you remember this wasn’t just a dream.

There's other people on the train standing close enough who catch whim of you and your perverted partner but they quickly pretend to look away, embarrassed, nearly in denial at what’s happening right before them. Most of these people wouldn’t hesitate to watch without shame, cocks and pussies out, rubbing together at the sight of this on their phones at home. But out in this space, it’s a sin to consider, to acknowledge the presence of.

It feels so much better when it’s wrong.

You catch a woman’s eyes, smiling with your tongue out as your faceless fuck-buddy ruts into you with precise yet minimal humps. It fuels your actions more, being caught and still going without shame. 

Your core tightens, and he feels it. He keeps using you like a flesh light, and you happily let him. Your orgasm slams you hard. His hand cups over your mouth as you wail out without care, pussy convulsing around his length and milking him. His fingers invade your mouth and muffle your moans, his tip crashing into your cervix before stilling. Floods of his hot load empty into your pussy, pulsing long thick ribbons before pulling out and jerking the rest of his pearly spend onto your petaled lips and smearing it over your slit. 

You breathe deeply, trying to regain your regular heartbeat without looking as if you were just fucked a mile from heaven. 

The train begins to slow, the next stop approaching so quickly you don’t even register it. It was over so fast. Your skirt falls down, just barely hiding the white stains along your inner thighs as he zips his softening cock back into his trousers.

Your body turns just as he squeezes by you on the other side, and you can’t catch his even a glimpse of his face before he's walking off onto the platform and disappearing into the crowd.

The doors close, and the train lurches forward again, your mind too dazed to realize you’ve missed your stop.

-

6 Months later

Joel crashes down on the couch, his body aching after a rough day. He fishes out his phone, routinely on time for his nightly and less than satisfying jerk off session with a bottle of beer.

He scrolls aimlessly to his favorite searches, desperate for something new. Its been months since he last got laid, nothing feeling quite as thrilling as that one time…

His eyes widen when he finds an incredibly familiar clip online titled: “Creepy Perverted Old Stranger with Massive Cock Fucks My Pussy Raw on a Crowded Train While I'm Ovulating!" 

He clicks on the video, and instantly recognizes your blouse and frilled skirt, the setting of the train, like it was yesterday. The camera doesn’t reveal any faces, just your little ass and pussy from below and eventually, Joel’s crotch. 

The video’s time stamp notes that this was uploaded 6 months ago, and its got one hell of a following with 23 million views.

There’s a description that starts with "60 year old creep…” and he almost wants to comment that he is actually 56, for your information. 

He watches the video 8 times, unable to even touch his hard cock begging helplessly because he’s too mesmerized by just the sight of your beautiful pussy. Even in your shaky grasp, he can see clearly your pretty folds, his cock invading you and stretching you beyond a reasonable limit. He was denied the image then, but etching it in his brain right now.

He closes his eyes, remembering that feeling of being inside you so vividly: your tight walls swallowing his dick like a champ, suffocating him yet pulling him back in with each draw. He relives it in his mind, has been doing it every few nights. Nothing had ever felt quite as good since you. The thrill of the setting. Your tight sexy body in his grasp, your wet swollen nub twitching on his thumb, and the sight of you—something the camera doesn’t pick up on, something that is only private to him, but he remembers it as though in front of him now. Seeing your expressions so clearly in the window’s reflection, eyes rolled over, tongue lolled out as he rocks your world. It was the last best cum he’d had, and even then it was repressed, slow, and hard to get to when he was being quiet and holding back, it still ranked higher than any high he's had since.

The video continues after he’s pulled out and departed from the train, showcasing the mess he left and your swollen flower now wrecked from his doings. He wishes he had stayed, knelt down and buried his tongue into your folds, lapping the mix of your combined juices and cleaning you up so nobody else could enjoy the sight he’s beholding now on his tiny screen.

He clicks your account and sees the most recent upload was last week. It didn’t seem like you were very active in these few months, but the vigorous commenting and hearts on your recent video has people stirring, and Joel’s curious to know why.

As the video plays, your pretty face and upper body are in frame, smiling to the camera and waving. You look exceedingly radiant, glowing with an effortless aura as you thank all of your fans. He pumps his dick to the sight of your beautiful complexion, soft yet deviously sexy smile crystal clear and staring directly at him. He can’t believe he was inside you, that he dumped his seed in you on the whim a chance and here he is only just now learning your name and true face.

 You speak eagerly as you announce a surprisingly unexpected news as a result of that video. The camera pans down, revealing your heavily rounded tummy.

 Joel stops his movements on his cock, feeling a harsh throb practically jumping towards the screen at the image of your pregnant body. Your hand glides over your beautiful naked belly, thanking the perverted stranger on the train for giving you such a generous gift to remember him by.

A pained gasp boils out of his throat. His pupils dilated. Mouth parted. Heart skipping a long beat.

He didn’t even realize he had already cum, his hot glue dribbling down his knuckles and shirt as the video ends with your winking kiss. 

Permanent Taglist:

- - - -

Part 2

@harriedandharassed @lola8888673 @its-nebuleuse @zliteraturehoe @merz-8 @joeldjarin @pascalscoffin @pedroshotwifey @ghostslillady @innerpersonunknown @missladym1981 @mrs-oharaxx @survivingandenduring @milla-frenchy @cockykookiee @fairytale07 @daddy-din @pedropascalsbbg @spookyxsam @somehopeatlast @millercontracting @pedrostories @mishala005 @theoraekenslover @animez96 @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @puduvallee

[gutsby]

Bigger in Texas

Pairing: Joel Miller x Reader

Summary: Joel won’t fit.

Warnings: 18+. Unprotected p-in-v. Size kink (seriously, don’t read if you hate big dicks / disgusting descriptions) Penis and pussy pronouns. Virginity loss. Age gap. Praise kink. Daddy kink. Joel ‘hung like a fucking horse’ Miller is a soft dom and also a good teacher. Competence kink (?)

Note: Somebody made a fic challenge to use penis pronouns, and I can’t for the life of me remember who it was. If y’all find them please show them this and tell them I love their brain 🫠

Update: @sp00kymulderr you’re a legend for this. Dick pronouns are engrained in my brain, and I’m forever grateful.

Word count: 2.3k

This wasn’t the life Joel Miller had pictured for himself.

The dead coming back to roam the world and eradicate most of its population, for one. The cold. Finding his baby brother way out here in Wyoming with a wife and a child on the way. The looks he was getting these days. It’s not like he’d asked to get mixed up with a girl your age. It just happened. And since damn near every-fucking-thing that had “happened” to him since outbreak day fifteen years back had been bottom of the barrel, full-blown nightmare territory, the second he saw a good thing fumble across his path, he’d seized it—you.

You, who were young enough to be his daughter.

You, who’d never seen a man fully before meeting him.

You, who hadn’t squeezed so much as a finger in herself.

But much like his past, Joel Miller was a sordid and sick kind of man, and he had the cock to prove it: presently weeping precum at the site of your softest, tightest hole, smearing the pearly-white slick through your folds with a sound so sweet it was nauseating. Begging for entrance.

“Oughta have a boy your age pop your cherry, kid.”

It was simple.

“Ain’t right havin’ a man my age all in your guts.”

And true.

The head of his cock made another wet, sickening noise through your folds, and as though instigated by the sound, your eyes flitted to the source. You smiled.

“Probably. But I want you,” you answered. Soft.

Joel got harder, and he hadn’t thought that was possible. His gaze joined yours, and the sight nearly finished him.

Beneath him, your legs had spread wider, showcasing that perfectly glistening seam alongside the head of his cock. He looked huge. Or you looked small. Or perhaps it was both, and he was old, and he really shouldn’t be doing this at all, but then his hips stuttered a bit and his length pushed in. Joel hissed and seized the headboard.

It wouldn’t even go in. The tip just stretched the rim.

“Baby, fuck—” Joel whimpered.

“He’s so big.”

Three little words from your lips, and it almost did him in.

Again.

You wriggled your hips and flashed another happy grin.

“He wants in, daddy. I can feel him pulsin’ like I am.”

You volleyed a look up to Joel as if to say, ‘So that means we’re ready, right? Will you let me have him?’

And, strangled by guilt as he was, Joel couldn’t resist.

He let his big, bulbous, leaking head sink in the tiniest bit, and he let out a groan. Your walls were so tight. This was him, too—his tip was oversized, just like the rest of him—and when it notched in an inch, Joel could see the pain flash quick in your eyes. His hips moved to retreat.

But then your heels were lifting and digging in his ass, and though strained, your voice made it out, weakly:

“Don’t, daddy. I want him.”

Joel couldn’t dream of refusing.

And his vision blurred more at that word, him.

“I-I know. He wants you too, baby—”

Another quarter-inch.

“—so, so bad.”

“Daddy!”

Joel had to blink to try and wake from his daze. His tip was so warm, hugged so perfect and snug and wet, that he didn’t even realize that was all that fit. He was stuck.

You whimpered again.

“‘S’too big, daddy. Just make him go in.”

Your eyes rolled with indignation and overwhelming pleasure alike, and your hips squirmed again. This time, you tried to nudge him in deeper, but your body simply wouldn’t budge; you’d reached the widest part of him.

“Honey, it’s—”

“Hurtin’! I need you inside me.” you cried, impatient.

“Just takes a little time to get there, darlin’—”

“Well, get to it, then. A tip ain’t enough.”

Joel’s face flushed. He might’ve been forced to bite back a laugh under any other circumstances, but this was your virginity. His bed. Your naked bodies, together, tonight.

He wasn’t about to rush it now and fuck everything up.

“This tip’s about to paint your pretty insides white and make you wait til next week to try again if you keep it up.”

That made you go still.

You shook your head while Joel released the headboard from his grip and took your hip in it instead. He grunted.

“Sweet pea, you gotta see—” he resumed, voice low, “—it won’t feel good for you or me if I just…push right in.”

You sighed, feeling his hold tighten.

“Tongue and fingers only do so much. You gotta learn.”

You whined, digging your feet in deeper when his tip drew back to your entrance. Looking a bit squeamish.

“Be brave…and patient for me.”

From the look in your eyes, Joel could tell you probably hated him right now. That was just fine. He adjusted his hips to a more comfortable place, and then he pinched your hip bone. He nudged you back, and he let you wait.

Then, right when you opened your mouth, he sank in.

Joel thrusted with only his tip, the size of a small lime, and he fucked your hole gently. Back and forth. Shallow.

It did enough. You squeezed both his forearms.

“Oh, daddy.” Your bottom lip trembled as you said it.

With his free hand, Joel smoothed your hair back.

“Yeah, what is it, baby?” he murmured, dulcet as ever, “Thought you said the tip ain’t enough for you, sugar.”

His words came slow. His strokes were delivered quick, though tenderly. Your brain appeared to be in a fog, or a trance, as your chin dipped down toward your chest, and you watched him breach the first inch of you repeatedly.

“Curious little thing.” Joel couldn’t fight the chuckle now.

“He’s so…” you trailed off.

You squeezed his arms, and he squeezed your hip back. He let you watch him fuck you with only his tip, and when your head began to tilt back from the strain, he reached up with his other hand and held the back of your neck. He felt you clench at that, and you both groaned.

“So…big,” you finished, eyes glazed.

“I know.”

This went on for the longest time: Joel stretching the first precious inch of your pussy with the head of himself, you watching and breathing deeply, whimpering occasionally, and him holding at the nape of your neck like a softer touch might lose you to him forever. Was this teaching? When you clenched again, he reckoned it was.

“That’s it, honey. Watch her swallow me.”

“Stretches real pretty for the tip, doesn’t she?”

“Bet she can’t even fit another inch of this cock.”

Suddenly, your head was jerking up under his hold.

Eyes flaring with a hot, juvenile kind of anger: “I can!”

Joel clicked his tongue against the backs of his teeth and pretended not to hear. He also had to feign indifference when your walls tightened and all but choked his head and a wave of new pleasure surged up through his body.

“She can, Joel, I’m serious!”

Another two seconds of this and Joel sensed he might see tears. Though his gaze had trailed up to yours, and the look in his appeared stern, deep down, he was just as quick to want to cave. He just hid it better than you did.

“You think so, sweet pea?”

“I know so. I need it.”

“Need him?”

“Y-Yes.”

How sweet you seemed. How naive you must be.

Joel might’ve been mean, but he wasn’t cruel. He also liked teaching lessons as much as he enjoyed showing you the way, so in the next second, he obliged. He took the last shallow thrust of his tip and sank into your cunt.

As he filled you, you whined. It only took an inch or two.

“Da-a-ddy. Please.”

You must’ve been begging for lenience. Joel retreated.

Then, much to the man’s surprise, you kicked your feet. Not in relief but in protest, shaking your head up at him:

“Put him back. Please. D-Deeper.”

It was as though Joel’s brain had exited through the back of his head and all rational thought escaped him, for the moment. The only voice he heard was yours. It was pleading. And in between your legs, you were soaked.

So drenched to allow him another inch. Then another. Then another. Joel fucked in gently and felt a seismic wave of pleasure seize his limbs—and likely yours, as well. It was as though in two blinks, you’d forgotten the pain altogether. You were suffused with need instead, eyes wincing and lips curling and sounds leaving your throat like an animal in heat. Want him deeper, please.

Joel sawed back and forth with just those five or so inches and made you writhe underneath him. Felt you clamp down on his thick, slippery cock and heard the remnants of your shared arousal making sounds as your body accepted him. Stretching wider. Getting wetter. Bringing him closer to the edge with every breath.

“She’s doin’…so good f’me,” Joel told you, brainless.

His thumb drifted to your clit. He rubbed it gently. No sooner had he finished the first circle around that nub when your hips were stirring again—this time incensed.

“Daddy.”

“I know, baby. I know.”

Joel kissed the top of your head, thumb insistent. When his eyes met yours, he was surprised to find them wet this time. Tears pooling and streaking down to your temples while your body bounced gently beneath his thrusts. A whimper trembled out, and Joel slowed.

He could tell from that look you didn’t want him to stop, though. It just felt so good. So, instead of dropping his pace too much, Joel cupped your chin in one hand, and with the other, he kept thumbing at your clit. Humming.

“Poor thing’s never had something this big in ‘er, huh?”

You shook your head. Cried a little more.

Joel kissed the tears on one side, lips smiling as he did.

“I can tell, baby. But she’s taking it so well.”

“Y-Yeah?”

His hips sped up a little. The thrusts were still shallower than they normally would be, given your state, but they seemed to be working well enough. You winced again.

Joel kissed the other side of your face to take more tears.

“Uh-huh,” he answered, “Openin’ up real nice for daddy.”

It was like his words worked as well as his thumb on your clit. You whimpered again, lips parting a little wider now, and the sound that came out was as desperate and feverish and fuck-drunk as Joel had ever heard it.

“S-Say it again,” you pleaded.

“Say what?”

“That he’s…stretchin’ me open. Makin’ me his.”

The soft, slick resonance between your body and his seemed to amplify even more—you were getting wetter, and Joel’s thrusts all but shook the bed with their force.

His eyes darkened when he felt you tighten again.

“Yeah? You like hearin’ all the filthy fuckin’ things your daddy’s doing? The way he’s breakin’ you in for him?”

You nodded. Your throat constricted with a moan.

And, just when a fresh set of tears seemed to be close on the horizon, Joel lowered himself to you. He held you to his chest, hips working relentlessly, and he watched your face screw up in pleasure. A trace of pain surfaced again, but it was soothed with a kiss. Joel grinned against you.

Between your thighs, his cock was throbbing with a feeling just as big. He knew he couldn’t keep this up much longer. Hurting and aching and needing as you were, he had to make sure that you would cum first.

When his cock grazed a fleshy, sensitive patch inside your walls, he knew it wouldn’t take much. He went on:

“C’mon, sugar. Daddy’s split you open on his cock so nice, least you can do is cum for him. Can you do that?”

His nose brushed yours. His thrusts sped up. You nodded, quickly, and when he shifted in the bed with his thumb still on your clit and his lips and his stubble grazing your mouth with every push of himself, he felt it.

It was a small pulse, at first.

Joel thought you might be adjusting—clenching—again, when the lips that were trembling against his own parted more. Your arms wound around his neck, and suddenly the throb of your walls around his member got tighter and tighter and tighter. One more second and your cunt might’ve squeezed the hot, sticky seed right out of his body and flooded your insides with it, but then came release. The ‘o’ of your mouth let out a shriek, at last, and your body went soft around him, beneath him, whining in turn, ‘Daddy, daddy, please’ while the muscles once taut and unflinching gave him reprieve. Fluttering repeatedly.

Joel fucked you through it. He talked you through it.

He stroked your hair, and he held you tight. Called you his sweetheart, pretty thing, perfect girl, you’re doin’ so good f’me. Keep going. That’s right, cum all over daddy. He told you to take what you needed, and without another word, he felt just that. Your cunt spasmed around him, and you consumed every inch he gave and drank every drop of spend shooting out in thick spurts.

You fell boneless on the bed when all was said and done.

You looked happy, and that made Joel even happier.

He stroked your cheek, and you leaned into it, clearly drained while your gaze held his in a weak sort of look.

It was soft. Loving, even. It could’ve been romantic.

Then Joel’s hand slipped down to the nape of your neck again. Your muscles were limp, like all the rest of you, but somehow, he was able to hold you up. Tilt your chin a bit.

Make you peer down between your shaking legs, where his cock was still sheathed inside you—partly, anyway.

Your eyes widened. Joel grinned.

“You did great, baby. Ready for the other half of him?”

can y’all believe this image is what inspired this fic HA

it’s only Thursday i’m sorry 😔

[beanlot]

ellie, who uses a vibrator on you for the first time, and just can’t get e-fucking-nough.

wc: 2.2k (smut + light fluff)

─── ⊱ ─── ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ ─── ⊰ ───

“the fuck is that?” you hum from the crook of her neck after having examined the small toy, and it rests in her palm, her voice a little shaky from nerves. “okay.. so.. uh.. this little guy, helps stimulate certain areas..”

“this little guy?” you repeat her words with a playful smirk, pupils dilated with adoration when you look at her, resplendent enough that she can see her flustered expression reflecting back at her when she maintained that eye contact.

“yeah, this little guy..” she has a teasing smile to her, which only amplifies the pooling anticipation in your stomach.

“turn it on. turn it on.” you eagerly whisper against her neck, your lips still numb from your previous make-out, tingling from her savoured taste. after a few seconds of tampering with the remote, you hear a silent whirring. “alright.. says here that this is the lightest level. ‘n then..” she mumbles, and the whirring intensifies into a jarring buzz.

“i see..” you mumble as you watch the toy convulsing in her palm, and you touch it, your fingertips shivering intensely upon the metallic. “damn.”

but whilst your eyes are inspecting it, her eyes are plastered onto you, eyes brimming with desire. lust. hunger. you don’t notice it, you just feel her seductive breath on your cheek; her inviting whisper following shortly after.

“let me.. please?”

you slowly turn your head to look at her, noting her low lids and desperately parted lips that beg for your acceptance. you don’t answer, admiring her features as it fuels the fluttering in your chest and the cudgelling of your heartbeat against your ribs.

you want it. you want her so bad.

“it’ll feel good, baby.. i’ll try..” her whisper is a plead, delicate kisses peppering your jawline so seductively as she guides the device to your chest. your breath is unregulated, shaky with her intuitive touches.

you sigh, when she grazes it over your clothed nipple, the vibration a pleasure on your breast. “it tickles.” you breathily laugh, your stomach shuddering along with the device.

“tickles?” she laughs against your lips, smooching at the corner of them amorously. her elbow propping herself up, and you watch as she grazes it repeatedly over your nipple; watching as the fabric starts raising slightly when it hardens.

the vibrations start teasingly streamlining down to your underwear, wetness so evident when your clothed slit engulfs the metal.

“gonna put it on your clit, my love..” she whispers, as if she’s asking for your permission, your guidance.

her breath ghosts your cheek as her gaze focuses on your thighs - the heaven between them. the way your dripping cunt swallows it, blissful sensations on your swollen and clothed clit when she applies pressure.

“oh..” you whisper shakily, your hips instinctively and subtly rutting into it. because you want more.

“oh?” she repeats, eyebrows arching momentarily. she experiments, fingertips guiding the device - circling, tapping and grazing your clit.

it’s when she pulls the dampened fabric to the side, holding the vibrator down onto your hood that you seem rather eager. “wait. keep it-keep it there.” you sigh, thighs twitching. you feel your core tightening, clit pulsing with it's own lustrous heartbeat, and your hips subconsciously rolling into it. “keep it-there..”

“feels good, baby?” her lips subtly turn upwards into something you could only describe as a snarky smirk, tongue resting between her teeth.

you’re focused, ankles quivering and your abdomen tensing repeatedly from the ecstasy. you hear her mumble again through the concentration, her irises narrowed at your body’s reaction. “shaking so much, holy shit.”

your breathing is a little jagged, and you’re clutching at her wrist, making sure she doesn’t move or mettle up that teasing courage of hers to deny you what you so desperately want need. “just don’t move it..” you gasp, your back arching into the vibrations.

you scan her features through the haze; pretty verdant eyes tainted with desire, the fruitful shape of her lips, and that fucking scar slicing her eyebrow. she's wearing that stupid black shirt you like so much, and has that stupid hairstyle you love. “you’re so hot..” you whisper faintly, impulse that reflects your innate need to finish spilling out. “i’m gonna-fuck. i’m gonna ride your fucking face after this..”

“yeah?” she arches her eyebrows, voice a pitch higher, as if she’s challenging you. mocking you, even.

“uh huh.. gonna-i’m gonna-“ you try to think of what to say, but nothing other than your whimpering blither seeping from your helpless lips. and so she interrupts you,

“gonna what, baby?” she whispers, and you know for sure now - she's definitely mocking you. you look down to her hand between your thighs; watching the tendons that manifest her slender wrist start to twitch, those admirable veins framing her knuckles.

your impending orgasm is obvious by how tremulous your body reacts, her fingers amping up the vibrations as she presses it deeper onto your clitoral hood.

"oh, that's it. just let go, feel it.." she whispers, her free hand slithering down to your tremoring hip, measuring up the clenching and troubled muscles within them. her mouth is watering, she doesn't realise it until she swallows back her saliva.

she wants nothing more than to suck at your clit, coat you with her, slurp up your taste so disgustingly that you wouldn't be able to look at her the same tomorrow.

her free hand glides towards your slit, your thick juices coating her slim fingers so seductively. you hear her hum, a low and guttural moan, as you feel one of them slew inside your hole. it contracts so welcomingly around her finger, and it's so easy for her to slide another in.

"m sorry, baby.. i should've asked.." she whispers when she hears your troubled whine, but its not troubled in the sense you don't want it, it's troubled in the sense that you've never understood how fucking good it feels to be stuffed with her fingers.

so you shake your head with difficulty, trying to notion to her that it's fine, she can do as she pleases.

so she teasingly twines them upwards, feeling the harsh vibrations of the toy on your clit internally against your walls. "you feel that?" she asks softly, her voice silk.

"more.. just-just a little more.." you exhale unstably, so desperate to feel her against your most sensitive nerves, so guiding and patient with her. she takes your words, absorbs them with gratitude.

"more, my love.. i got you.." she's also unsteady with her breath, and just like your desperation, she's desperate to impress.

you feel her curl further against your spongy and quivering walls, eyes rolling back as she gradually fucks you with her fingers. "like that, pretty girl?"

"uh huh.. uh-like that.. like-oh fuck, ellie, baby-"

she can tell you're gonna come by how choked up your breaths are, and how rigid your body feels under her hands. "nice and easy, nice and easy.." she whispers, and you suddenly feel her wet tongue on your stomach, streamlining up to your abdomen and leaving a trail.

you can hear your own thighs walloping against her hand, your cunt squelching with every appreciative pump of her fingers. and ellie does what ellie does best, she talks you through it.

"thas' it, feel what i'm doing to you. just relax.."

"you whining for me?”

and it's suddenly too much, your eyes rolling back and head digging further into the fleecy pillow. "please please please please-" you're begging, pleading like a whore for it. you feel her tongue lick selfishly at your sternum, your shirt riding up and the air whipping against your piping hot skin.

when you look down to watch her tongue start relentlessly flicking at your nipple, her eyes dreamily shut, the sneezelike sensation in your core possesses everything in your body.

you're coming so aggressively, back arching into her as she keeps the vibrator on your messy folds - only this time, grazing it directly over your overstimulated clit, her fingers still urging you to your overbrimming limit.

you're whining like a mess, how she likes it.

she’s trying to hold you down, or at least stabilise you when you come, her fingers seeping out of your cunt and clutching at your shaking hips.

"i know it feels good, i know.." she murmurs against your skin, goosebumps littering your chest and arms. her fingers are glossed with your cum, thumb tracing patterns into your waist.

you’re trembling so much that she keeps losing grip.

she decreases the vibrations drastically to aid your oversensitivity, but keeps the device buried against your clit; your underwear slowly going back over your drenched slit as she lets go.

you’re confused at first, shuffling around uncomfortably when you feel your underwear soak up your cum, your clit still getting ambushed from the low vibrations.

but she’s not one to disappoint, stripping off her sweatpants and her bare thighs smoothing against yours as she situates her bare and drooling cunt against you.

your thigh is hoisted against her clothed abdomen, and you can feel the dips of her lanky muscle contract slightly. she’s worked herself up.

“ride my face in a minute, baby— i just.. i need this..” she sighs urgently, feeling the wetness of your underwear; she’s thirsty for it, dehydrated for it.

her clit is purple and erect, subtly grinding against your underwear, the vibrations humming through the fabric and stimulating her so divinely. the tone in her arms and the impulsive rolling of her hips, her stomach rubbing against your bare and piping hot thigh.

fuck, you like her using you like this. so selfish, self-serving.

you’re starting to uncontrollably tremor again, her movements forcing the vibrator against your overwhelmed clit. “i’ll be quick, pretty—i’ll be quick-“ she gasps, delectable lips parted.

her rutting hips are becoming sloppier, the bed frame starting to rock against the wall and creak.

“ellie—ellie, please- please hurry, it’s too much..” you whine, because the overstimulation is too shattering for you to orgasm again. but you’re trying to cherish the high of watching her face scrunch from abundant pleasure and yearning, the prize of hearing her guttural whimpers.

and it’s all so worth it, the torture of sensory overload, when her thighs start quivering against yours. her fingers clenching your thigh so frantically, her frenzied state erupting as she orgasms.

“mmph-holy shit-‘mm baby—“ she gasps, lips parted erotically against your knee, the adrenaline forcing her fingers to twitch around your thighs.

she’s still rutting against you, bathing through the last remaining ripples of her orgasm, before she takes note of your raw state. her fingers are delicate, sliding your swamped underwear down your legs and turning the vibrator off. it’s submerged in your cum, sweat and enjoyment.

“are you okay? was that too much?” she asks softly, hands gently squeezing your kneecaps in reassurance. she’s not sure why, but now that her impulsive drive to finish on your vibrating pussy is satisfied and fulfilled, she has some worried aftertaste on her tongue.

worried that she pushed your boundaries, or didn’t consider your feelings.

“no, you idiot. that was-“ you sigh, covering your dazed eyes with your arm. “that was so fucking hot.”

you hear her relieved laugh, and it’s silent for a few seconds. nothing but the sound of the light drizzles of rain outside, the balance of your relaxed and seduced breaths.

“still wanna ride my face, ma’am?” you hear her ask, not ignoring the tinge of hope in her tone. and so you laugh, looking up at her. she has a hue of mauve under her eyes, bags bags that demonstrate her careless sleep schedule.

but she’s stunning. and she makes those eyebags annoyingly sexy.

“i always wanna ride your face..” you mumble, unable to resist the spirited smile that tugs your lips upwards when you see the rosiness in her face bloom. she’s excited, she’s a loser for it.

“but.. maybe.. in the shower.. i’m like—“ you mumble, sluggishly sitting up, discomfort when you look down and see thick strings of your arousal between your thighs. “i’m hot, and sweaty, and gross.”

you look at her, and you’re strangely flustered by how she maintains eye contact. it’s out of character, even for ellie, but she’s jumped through the hurdles of being awkward with you.

all of the timidity and shyness has been bleached; she looks at you with such intimate love. “okay.. fine by me, ma’am..” she nods, lazily blinking through her infatuation.

and for the first time, it’s you that can’t uphold the eye contact. your eyes darting anywhere but hers - her collarbone, freckled cheeks fanned by her lashes, those admirable hands that are still resting on your knees.

they trace tender and doting patterns into your shins, nails that tickle and gently scratch your skin.

and when you look back up, she’s still gazing, nailing that romantic and worshipping gaze straight through you.

fuck, stop looking at me like that, williams.

“i love you..” you whisper, hands resting on her shoulders, before gliding up to cup her cheeks. her skin is also piping hot. “you’re so good to me.”

she looks calm on the outside, but on the inside, it’s absolute fucking havoc. her heartbeat hammering against her chest, eyes softening, and her hands reluctantly hovering above yours.

her palms rest on your wrists, and she slowly tilts her head to kiss your fingers, unblinking eyes that are still staring at you. her whisper is faint, anticipatory, and vanilla.

“i love you more, pretty..”

[gorgeousgreymatter-x]

You guys will argue anything for the sake of it lol

For the record, you can like rough sex and g spot stimulation (and writing those into scenes!!) and still recognize that writing a smut scene where someone is ram jamming something up there without finesse is just going to be real Bad ™️ and read like you've never had sex or studied human anatomy in your life

Just. Like...as a feel-mostly-cis-female bisexual I am begging for some m/f smut that doesn't make my internal organs recoil or leave me drier than the goddamn desert 😂😂😂

[foomoosworld]

The Raven And The Firefly - Chapter 5

MINORS DNI

Joel Miller X female reader

Crossover with Stars Too Far

Summary: Joel is tasked to take a strange woman to the fireflies who can't be infected. He believes she is part of a strange and unhinged cult that believes their from outer space. However, begins changing his mind about her as he travels with her.

Warning: Sex. Passionate sex. Nothing too crazy yet.

You wake up with large, strong arms wrapped tightly around you and the sound of birds chirping and the sun blaring into your face.

“Joel,”  You nudge him to loosen his grip but he merely mumbles in his sleep and pulls you tighter.  His strong arms feel comforting and his warm body wrapped around you feels secure as you turn into him and nudge him awake with a push of your cheek against his.

“Mmmph.”  He grumbles in protest.

“It’s daytime, we should get going.”  you whisper.

His hands slowly caress down on your body beneath your unzipped sleeping bags in his half conscious state as he mumbles, “Just a few more minutes.”  His leg slowly snakes around your hips and pulls you into him.

“You smell good.”  He whispers, losing his face in the soft skin of your neck.

You can’t help but let your hands wander over his chest which produces a satisfied moan from Joel.

Then there was a click.

Both of you instantly became on high alert and bolted upright from under the sleeping bags.

A clicker was distortedly angling and blindly searching at the edge of the treeline just ten feet away from you.

You slowly grabbed your knife from your pack as Joel grabbed his hunting rifle.  He gently got to his feet but you touched his side and shook your head “No!” at him.  You knew that if there is one clicker, there are more, and possibly Runners.  If you made noise then you could be suddenly inundated with them.

Joel was laser focused, aiming his rifle at the clicker and silent as it blindly stumbled and stretched uncomfortably with every step into your camp.  You gingerly sidestepped a wide berth around it with your knife ready in your hand.  Both of you knew the best result may be it just stumbling in then fumbling away, finding nothing.  Extremely cautious silence was your best option currently.

It clicked and snarled into the camp as you and Joel nervously flicked your eyes from it to each other, trying to read each other’s fear.  That’s when it stumbled over the ambers of your campfire.  It screeched, burning it’s leg and the shreds of it’s pant leg catching on fire but you jumped on it’s back, stabbing it in its vocal chords then it’s jugular before it could scream and alert others.  It spun around wildly and managed to shake you off enough that it could grab you and throw you down to the ground. It bit your bicep and pulled back with a chunk of your skin.  Just as it pulled back with a portion of your shoulder in it’s mouth there was a gun shot and its head exploded.  It flopped to the ground like a lifeless doll.

You couldn’t catch your breath from the panic but heard Joel’s thundering footsteps racing towards you before you blacked out.

……………..

Your eyes cracked open.  It was nighttime and the orange haze of a fire fended off dark shadows as you groaned and sat up.  

Joel was pointing his gun at you.

You slowly raised your hands in surrender.

“Tell me your name.”  Joel rasped, staring darkly down the nozzle of his gun at you.

“Ameo… But shitheads who point guns at me call me Amy.”  You grog.

“You’re not infected.”  Joel states trying to hide his confusion and curiosity.

You flick your eyes up at him then down at your weeping bite wound with a sneer of pain.

“I’m not.”

“How is that possible?”  He sternly pushes.

“I keep telling you, I’m not fully human…”  You grunt as you roll to your feet to get Joel’s pack for some bandages.

Joel stiffens his gun at you and you raise your hands again falling back into a submissive sitting position, realizing he’s serious.

“You’re fucking crazy.”  He stiffly states as he stares at you from behind his gun, “But you’re not infected after over two days.”  He lowers his gun, gets up, grabs the pack and pulls out the roll of bandages. “So I believe you… that you can’t get infected.”  

You’re confused at first but he pulls off your coat to expose your wound more thoroughly then begins cleaning it with hydrogen peroxide on a rag.  You wince at the cold burning of it as he puts it against your skin.

“Where are we?” You ask with a cracking voice through your pain.

“Same forest. Just farther away from the last camp so other infected couldn’t find us. You’ve been asleep for a few days.”

“We’ve been here for more than two days?”  You ask, astounded.  Joel merely continues to clean and dress your wound then glances up at you, then back to your wound.

“Yeah.”  He states simply.

He expertly wraps your shoulder in the bandages, rubs it gently then looks up at you.

“How does that feel?”  He asks.

“Why did you stay with me all that time not knowing if I would change?  Or that you could be attacked by more Infected finding you?”

Joel hesitates then looks away.  He opts to change the subject and pulls himself to his feet, puts his hands on his hips and cocks one knee as he stares at the foreboding trunks of trees of the forest.

“We need to go East and we have some ground to make up.  There’s an abandoned hotel not far from here we can stay in tonight that I have some provisions stashed in.  Think you can hike for a few hours?”  He looks back at you.

You inspect your bandaged arm, impressed with Joel's first aid work then look back up at him.

“Yeah.  I can do that.”

You and Joel hike for hours through the forest then finally come to the edge of the  brush.  He kneels and scans the the open field before him.

“I think we’re safe.”  He stands up and offers a hand to you to help you up.  You take it and tiredly drag yourself to your feet. “That’s the hotel.”  he points at the dilapidated structure in the distance.

“Club Med”  you smirk at him.

He smiles.

“Let’s go.”  He ushers you into the field.

Cautiously, the two of you make your way across the field but suddenly there is a rusting in the grass.  Joel kneels down and puts a hand back, telling you to get low.

A deer wearily steps out a few feet in front of you.

“What is that?!” you whisper, terrified.  Joel merely angrily stares back at you to be silent and you button you lip.

The deer moves towards the two of you curiously.  Joel raises his rifle and you raise your hand.

The deer walks cautiously up to you and sniffs your hand.  You let it inspect you, then it hears a noise in the background and leaps off into the tall grass.

“Was that some kind of dog?”  You ask excitedly.

“You really are from outer space aren’t you?” Joel teases your ignorance, puts the safety back on his gun and holsters it.  “It could have been dinner.  But I don’t like meeting my dinner intimately before I eat it.”

You don’t really understand but shrug and continue walking behind Joel until you’ve made it to the forboding doors of the dilapidated hotel.

Joel shoulders the jammed door of the hotel loudly a few times before it gives in.  The bottom floor is flooded and overgrown with plantlife.  He points to a large stairwell on the other side of the lobby, through the murky water.

“We need to get there.  Can you swim?”  He asks.

“Kind of.”  You state and slowly step, carefully down into the water.  It’s waist high until a sudden drop and you begin dog paddling frantically.  You realize you won’t make it all the way over to the stairs in one go and swim over to a small stage that has a piano on it and drag yourself up onto it, panting.  Joel easily swims up next to you and pulls himself up.  As you both catch your breath you look back at the piano then pull yourself up from the ground, pull out the bench and sit down in front of it.

“You know how to play that thing?”  Joel asked.

“I heard during one of the wars there was an American Soldier who was once clearing a building in Germany.  He heard a man playing a beautiful piano song.  He went down to hear the music.  It was a German Soldier.   He played a whole song for that American soldier then looked up at him and they both smiled.  Then the American shot him.”

You play a chord on the hauntingly out of tune piano then a scale run.

“I do know how to play this thing.”  You smile up at him, “Maybe one day I’ll find one in tune and I can write a song for you.”

“I’d like that.”  Joel smiles at you.

You get up from the piano, sigh, then slough down back into the water and dog paddle your way over to the stairs.  You climb four flights of stairs and Joel leads you to a specific room.  He shoulders in the door again and once your inside you’re surprised to see a bed with blankets and pillows (dirty and worn, but blankets and pillows)  He shoved the door back shut with a loud grind and locks numerous locks that he has obviously, over time, rigged up and installed on the door.

“Are you hungry?”  He grunts going to the worn out kitchenette.

“Starving!” You say excitedly.  He pulls out a can of Chef Boyarde from the cupboard, turns on a propane hot plate and begins heating up the food.

“What is that stuff?”  You sneer your nose at it.

He hands you a plate of Chef Boyardee.

“Amazing.  That’s what it is.”  He smirks as he sits next to you on the bed and begins to eat his plate of food.  You hesitate at first, then take a bite, then happily engulf the rest of it quickly.

“Good, right?”  Joel laughs as you inhale the food.

“My mouth has never been so happy.”  You say in between messy bites.

You both finish eating and are exhausted.

“A real bed!”  You exclaim as you jump onto it and it exudes a cloud of dust.

“Yeah,”  Joel laughs, “A real bed.”  He takes off his rifle, boots and belt then shuffles to sit in the bed with you leaning against the headboard.

“Are we safe here?”  You ask meekly, looking out the broken window to the night sky.

“Nothing is getting past that door and those locks.”  Joel confirms.

“Thank the maker…”  You mumble as you nuzzle up against Joel in the bed and close your eyes.  He’s surprised at first, at how open you are to get close to him but and raises his arms, almost in protest, but eventually smiles and wraps his arms around you.  He sinks down into the comfortable bed and pulls you close to him.

“You smell so good.” he whispers to you.

“I haven’t showered in days.”  You laugh offhandedly.

He pulls you in and takes a slow inhale, “You smell like spring flowers.”

You look up at him and smile gently.  He breathes you in again then takes his strong hand and angles your face to his then gently nuzzles into you and you feel his lips touch yours.  His warm tongue slowly lavishes the inside of your mouth as he kisses you slowly and purposefully.  You feel his hips cant against you gently as his instincts begin to take over.  He pulls his shirt off and slowly trails a hand up your midsection, tickling your belly as he pulls your shirt up over your head as well.  

“I want to make you feel like a goddess.”  He quirks a small sideways smile as he reaches down to the button of your pants. 

You smile as he slowly peels off your clothes.  You feel his hot breath as he sniper-poses between your legs and hones in on your underwear.  His hand is slowly circling your clit over top of your underwear, teasing it, and as you get more and more excited he cracks a smile, seeing your underwear change color as it gets wet with your slick.

“You like that, baby girl?”  He rasps up at you.

“Mmm yeah…” Is all you can manage to muffle out.

He slowly pulls your underwear down with a finger, exposing your swollen, hot pussy to him.  He takes a slow and gentle inhale of your pussy, “That’s what I’ve been smelling…”  He confirms as he dives his face hungrily into your pussy.

You feel his hot, wet tongue slowly explore all of your folds, making you arch your back and call out.  His tongue finally slips upwards to your swollen clit and lavishes it.  He teases and circles it slowly at first, making you grasp the bed sheets then just as you’re about to explode he dives in and sucks and licks as hard as he can. 

Your body is wrenching and writhing.  You beg for release.  But he pulls back.

He pulls his pants and underwear off, springing his rock hard cock forward.

“I’m gonna fuck you so good, baby girl.”  He rasps.

“Yes, Joel.”  You stare at him intently.

He crowds over you and pushes you into the bed, his hot breath lavishing you as he stares down into your eyes.  Suddenly you’re seeing stars as he jams his cock into you and fills you up.  He puts one of his large arms under your lower back and angles you to just the right position so he’s thrusting slowly, forcefully, into your g-spot.  You exhale as if all of your stress has left your body upon his first few thrusts and when he sees this he smiles, pulls you tighter and begins slowly and rhythmically thrusting into you.  You become putty in his arms, your entire body, nothing but pleasure as his cock becomes harder and harder inside of you.

“Joel…” You moan in ecstasy as you roll your head back.

“That feels good, doesn’t it?” He rasps as he fucks you slowly harder.

“Yes, baby!  Harder!”  You exclaim.

“You want to be fucked good and hard?”  Joel whispers with a scent of excitement.  You can only muster a panting nod through your passion.  

He props himself up on his hands and knees and gruffly pushes you to line up underneath him.  He holds himself over top of you and leans in to whisper in your ear with a devilish smile, “Hold on, baby…” 

You feel his arm grab you under the small of your back then he wildly pumps into you.  His throbbing cock stretches you and hits places you’ve never felt before making you arch up into him and moan loudly as you squirm in excitement.  He’s pushing you down onto the bed and thrusting as hard as he can into you, watching your face cry out in pleasure as his cock twitches, hard to the extreme and he knows he won’t last long.

You push up from the bed and grasp him, calling out his name as you stretch yourself into him over and over again.  His balls heave up and cock twitches as he spews strong ropes of thick cum into you.   He calls out your name and tumbles over you, clutching you as he cants into you, hard at first then slowing as he softly rides out his orgasm.

His arms clutch you tightly as his heart races, then slows, then gently, he falls asleep next to you.  You curl into him, lavishing in his imposing touch.  

It had been so long since you had felt any kind of pleasure or safety and you wanted to stay in this room forever.  However, you knew, the next day you would be moving on.  And it was very likely neither of you would even talk about what just happened.

You look up to Joel’s sleeping face and felt sadness as he slowly and rhythmically breathed.  But then felt his arms and legs wrapped around you tightly and felt safety.  It was conflicting.  Which wasn’t good.  The last thing you needed was conflict on a journey that involved trying to keep you alive.

You guessed that he would pretend nothing happened the next morning when he woke up and braced yourself for that outcome.

[strang3lov3]

Bedridden

If you had cough syrup, you’d use that to put his ass to sleep. But you don’t, so you decide to utilize a different technique, one that always successfully incapacitates a man. 🍆💦❤️‍🔥

Joel is sick and refuses to rest, so you knock him out the best way you know how. (5.4k)

Tags - smut, lotsa sexual tension, blow jobs, pussy pronouns, teasing, fingering, unprotected piv, riding the sick old man’s cock, creampie, non-graphic descriptions of being sick. JOEL DOES THE DAD SNEEZE. coughing, fevers. That’s all. Joel is stubborn and grumpy while you take care of his old as fuck ass. Arguing with the old man, forcing the old man to bathe, forcing the old man to eat and drink, forcing a thermometer in the old man’s mouth. Joel bitching you out the whole time. Joel is kind of exactly like Dennis in IASIP when the gang gets quarantined. Fic Help - My usuals! @beefrobeefcal, your unhinged comments on the doc were the best part. and @endlessthxxghts thank you for your help <3 A/N - Heyyyyyyy. I promised this fic yesterday and then didn’t deliver. Sorry. It just needed to marinate in the doc a little longer or something. It’s been a bullshit ass few days and I’m,,,,handling it. Anyway, I’ve been sick as balls so that’s how this fic came about. Everybody wash your hands 🧼

There’s a fine point late in the year, right after summer turns to fall. You can fall asleep with the window over your bed cracked open just an inch to let the crisp, cool air blow over your face as you cocoon yourself in blankets. In the mornings you wake to that same breeze and the birds chirping, though less and less as they fly south for the upcoming winter. 

Not this morning, though. This morning, you’re awoken by a chesty, hacking cough coming from outside your window. You sigh as you get out of bed and push the curtains away from the window to get a better look at what the hell is going on out there. 

And it’s just your neighbor, Joel. You should have guessed it’d be him, you heard his earth shattering, deafening sneeze the other day when you waved to him as you walked by his house. Joel waved back at you with the same hand he sneezed into. Ew. 

Everyone’s getting sick lately, it goes around quickly in Jackson. Always does - it starts with the kids and works its way through the community, and a good four to six weeks are filled with endless sneezing and coughing and mucus.

Joel’s coughing up his lungs as he rakes up the leaves in your yard, a job he’s seemingly assigned himself, because you sure as shit didn’t ask him to do this. He has a habit of taking on your chores and home maintenance out of his own frustration. 

You pull a robe over your pajamas and slide on a pair of slippers, then leave out of the front door to greet Joel. “Good morning, Joel.” 

Joel clears his throat. “S’actually noon, lazy ass. ‘Bout time ya woke up.”

“Wanna tell me what you’re doing?”

“Exactly what it looks like.” He sniffles and wipes his nose on his sleeve. Gross. “M’workin’.” 

“Yeah, I see that. But you sound sick.” 

Joel ignores the accusation, “Your yard looks like shit, by the way,” he says. “Wouldn’t kill ya to rake once in a while. ‘Stead of makin’ me do it.” 

“You choose to do this. I don’t make you do anything,” you argue, rolling your eyes. It’s funny, though. Joel’s turning into the caricature of the old man angrily shaking his fist at kids playing on his lawn. All crotchety and pissed off about nothing. You step closer to him and wrap your hand around the handle of the rake, pulling it towards yourself. “Besides, Mother Nature put those leaves there for a reason,” you add. 

“Sure, smartass. For you to ignore and for me to clean up. Now, give it,” Joel tugs the rake back. Whatever. You let him. Joel rakes more of your leaves into the pile he’s created, then doubles over in another coughing fit. You rub your palm on his back, patting him gently. He’s sweating through his flannel. “Oh, Christ. Fuck me.” 

“Joel, you look awful.”

You help him stand up, “You’re a terrible flirt, darlin’,” Joel replies dryly. But he knows you’re not wrong. He saw in the mirror how pale he looked this morning, the dark circles around his eyes. 

“Oh, shut up.” You press the back of your hand against Joel’s forehead, all sweaty and warm. “You’re burning up, Joel. You’re sick.” 

“I am not sick,” Joel protests through another cough. “I’m fine. How ‘bout you worry ‘bout yourself ‘stead of fussin’ over me.”

“You’re hacking up a lung in my yard. I’ll worry about you all I want, thank you.”

In response, Joel grumbles something you can’t quite make out. You roll your eyes and take the rake from him, dropping it on the grass. “My rake,” Joel murmurs, annoyed and defeated. With your work clearly cut out for you, you take his hand and lead him into your house. “Aw, hell. What’re you doin’ to me.” 

“Taking care of you,” you reply.

“Didn’t sign up for this bullshit,” Joel complains. “I don’t need takin’ care of.”

Oh, he’s a peach. Most men, when sick, are total babies - pathetically crying about their headaches and stomachaches to women who deal with the same symptoms on a monthly basis. It’s charming, truly. But not Joel, though. In his stubbornness, Joel refuses to ever admit when he’s sick, like he’s got something to prove. Can never let himself be taken care of, because that’s his job - to take care of others. Always has been. 

Once inside, you have Joel take off his boots, then usher him to the bathroom with a hand on his back, his flannel damp with sweat. “Sit.” You reach for Joel’s shoulders and push him down, forcing him onto the lidded toilet. You crouch down at the bathtub and plug the drain with the stopper, then turn the water on - not too hot, not too cold. “Yeah, this is good. This’ll make you feel so much better.” 

“Oh, c’mon. Turn off the damn water. I’m not takin’ a bath.” 

“You are, too.” 

“Am not.” 

“Joel,” you bite. Joel parrots your name back in the same threatening tone.

“We’re breaking that fever one way or another, Joel. So you bathe yourself, or I’ll do it.” 

Joel cocks an eyebrow. “Oh, will ya, now?”

You go quiet, no retort to his comment. Heat rises to your cheeks and you focus on the bathtub filling with water to avoid Joel’s taunting gaze. After a long enough silence passes, Joel changes the subject. “I don’t have any clean clothes, y’know.” 

“Then I’ll grab you some from your house,” you mumble.

“Mm,” Joel grunts. “Got an answer for everything, don’tcha?”

You glare. Joel glares too. You fold your arms across your chest and raise your eyebrows at him. You are not losing this battle. 

Joel sighs in defeat. “Alright, go on an’ get, then. I’ll take the fuckin’ bath if it’ll get me fifteen minutes away from you obsessin’ over me. There. Happy?” 

“Happy.”

You leave Joel in the bathroom to bathe himself, closing the door behind you. Still wearing nothing but pajamas and a robe, you change quickly into a hoodie and jeans, then leave through your front door for the second time.

Joel’s house is right next to yours, so it’s not a long walk. Mentally, you’re kicking yourself for your stupid threat to bathe Joel. The way he responded to it, ‘Oh, will ya?’ and how bashful that made you, the embarrassment written all over your face in big, black, permanent marker. Your crush on the older man is obvious, and Joel, never the gentleman, will jump at any opportunity to make you squirm. Like when he catches your eyes lingering on him for a little too long, he’ll tease you for it. “S’rude to stare, y’know,” he’ll taunt, always with that stupid fucking grin on his face. Smile lines framing his cheeks, crows feet handsomely peeking at the corners of his eyes. You really need to stop setting yourself up for these things. 

Once in Joel’s house, you head upstairs for his bedroom and rifle through his dresser drawers for some comfy clothes. You pick out a pair of plaid boxers, some gray sweatpants, and a navy waffle-knit henley. You bunch up his clothes and inhale, Joel’s natural smell still lingering in the clothes, even washed. 

In his kitchen, you notice some vegetables sitting out on his countertops. Carrots, potatoes, onions. You grab those too, then check the fridge for leftover chicken or turkey or something. He usually has some, and usually brings it to you after he’s had his fill. “This is for you, trouble. Cause y’don’t eat enough,” he’ll gruff. “Would you like me to heat it up for ya?” And whether you say yes or no, he always does. It seems to make him happy or fulfill him somehow, so you let him take care of you like that. If only he’d let you return the favor.

Bingo. There’s chicken in old Tupperware right on the top shelf, and yesterday’s date written in Joel’s terrible handwriting from an old, dried up Sharpie. You take that too, then go back home. 

You leave Joel’s food you stole on the kitchen table and stop at your linen closet for a fresh towel. You knock on the bathroom door, “Joel?”

“Yeah, darlin’.”

“I have your clothes. And a towel.”

“Good. I need those,” Joel says. “C’mon in, then.” 

You open the door, averting your eyes from Joel’s naked body in the bathtub. “Relax. M’not gonna let you see somethin’ you ain’t ‘sposed to.” He’s got his hands covering his manhood, the rest of himself on display - toned biceps, veined forearms. His belly is pillowy and hairy and his legs look so long, all bare like this. His toes peeking out of the soapy bathwater. You set the towel and his clothes down on the toilet, stealing an even longer look at him when you think he doesn’t notice. “I see ya snoopin’, trouble. Wanna take a picture?”

You roll your eyes and ignore the offer, turning your attention to Joel but keeping your eyes focused on his face. His hair is slicked back, and his grays pop out against the rest of his dark hair, little ringlet curls at his neck. The asshole is criminally handsome. 

“Are you feeling better?”

“I feel fine. Like I’ve felt all day,” Joel lies. His body betrays him instantly when another cough wracks through him. 

“Right. Well, you smell better, at least.” 

Joel rolls his eyes, “Nice one, sweetheart. Thanks. Now scram, so I can get dressed.” 

You leave the bathroom, shutting the door behind yourself again. You can hear the sound of the bathtub draining and Joel getting out of the tub as you stop at the linen closet again, this time grabbing some queen sized sheets and pillowcases. 

In your living room, you pull some cushions off of your sofa and pull out the built-in bed, then dress it with the sheets and an old floral quilt. You cover your own pillows in the pillowcases, then fluff them nicely and set them up for Joel, who’s leaving the bathroom now, combing his hair back.

“Stole your comb,” he says, tossing it for you to catch. He stops in the living room and looks at the pull-out bed that you made up, the corners of the sheets tucked in and everything. “The hell’s all this?”

“Exactly what it looks like,” You mock his words from earlier. “Your bed.”

“You’re bein’ ridiculous. I ain’t even sick.”

You ignore Joel and point to the bed. “Get in.”

Joel rolls his eyes but gets in the bed anyway, springs squeaking under his weight. “M’not gettin’ in this bed ‘cause I’m sick or ‘cause you’re makin’ me. Just feel like sittin’.” 

“Sure, Joel,” you sigh. “How much water have you had today?”

“Plenty.”

“How much is plenty?”

“It’s enough,” he snaps impatiently. You leave him just for a second to fill a glass with some water, then bring it to him. Joel pushes the glass away, “I said I’ve had enough.” 

“I’ll decide what’s enough, now here–” you put the glass into his hand, “Drink.” 

Joel drinks the entirety of the glass, glaring at you the entire time. Good god, if looks could fucking kill. The cool water soothes his scratchy, sore throat, but Joel won’t tell you that. “You’re a tyrant, sweetheart,” he tells you, voice raspy and low. What he doesn’t tell you, however, is that if the shoe were on the other foot and you were the sick one right now, he'd be just as overbearing over your health. Probably worse. 

You pout mockingly at Joel as you take his glass. “Stay here. Don’t get up.” 

You get up from the bed to go into the kitchen and begin preparing a soup for Joel to soothe his aching throat. You start by dicing onions, then chopping some carrots. You toss them in a large pot with some butter, letting the vegetables soften. You’ve even got some leftover bread you made yesterday, so you turn on your oven to heat it up. You can hear Joel getting restless, tossing and turning in the less than comfortable bed. Probably should have turned on a movie for him, left him a book or something to occupy his restless mind. “You okay?”

“M’fine. Mind your business.” 

You open Joel’s Tupperware and chop up his chicken into little bits. When you look up, Joel’s out of bed. You scoff. He’s forcing open your window, grunting as it squeaks. “Joel, what did I tell you? Get your ass back in that bed.”

“Relax, would ya? M’tryin’ to get some air in here.” Joel successfully forces the window open, and cool air blows into your tediously warmed home. “House is a fuckin’ oven.”

“Yeah, well, that’s probably your fever talking, dumbass. Put my window down.” 

“I really outta fix this window for ya. Ain’t good to leave it like this. I’ll get my tools an’ I–”

You march across the kitchen and into the living room, knife in hand and using it to point to the bed. “Joel.”

“You scare me,” Joel mumbles, raising his arms in surrender. He closes the sticky window for you, then you march him back to the pullout. Before Joel lays down, he glances in the kitchen at what you’ve been cooking. He heard the sounds of you chopping, but with his nose all congested he can’t smell enough to hazard a guess as to what you’ve been making. Joel narrows his eyes at the stolen Tupperware on your table, the carrots and onion peels to the side, and recognizes it all as his. “Is that my…?” 

“Just lay down, Joel.” 

“Did you take that from my fridge?” 

“I did.”

You’re completely shameless about this, there’s not even a half-assed attempt at lying your way out, and Joel’s beside himself. “You stole from me, you little–” You urge Joel into bed, fluffing the pillows behind him as you ignore his tantrum. “You are unbelievable. I could throttle you, you know that?”

“Go ahead, Joel,” you challenge. A slight breeze could knock this sick old man down to his knees. You tuck Joel into the sheets, then adjust the quilt over him again. And this time before leaving him, you grab an old book of word searches in a basket under an end table. “Here.” You toss it to him along with a dull pencil. That should keep him busy.

Back in the kitchen, you’re still working on Joel’s soup. It’s bubbling away on the stove, and you’ve just finished making egg noodles to make the dish a little heartier. Something to stick to his ribs. It hits you then, that you don’t hear sniffling or coughing. Joel’s gone quiet, suspiciously so. 

And lo and be-fucking-hold, Joel’s up again. This time, with tools. Tools that you don’t have, tools that he must have snuck out and grabbed from his home at some point. “Joel!” 

“There,” Joel says, moving your window up and down seamlessly. “Window’s fixed.” 

“How many times do I have to say it?” 

“How about you try a ‘thank you’, huh?” Joel shoots back.

You shoo him back to bed. You slice a bit of warm bread, then ladle some soup into a bowl and bring it to him with a spoon. “Eat,” you tell him. 

Joel eats a spoonful, and it’s written all over his face how much he enjoys it, the warm broth relieving his sore throat. “So what’d you poison it with, huh?”

“Oh, you’re such a dick.” 

Joel smiles, only teasing. “M’sorry. S’just that you shouldn’t be doin’ all this for me, s’all.” Joel squeezes your knee comfortingly. “Thank you. I mean it, darlin’.” He’ll let you feed him, but no more than that. You’re too sweet for your own good. “S’good soup.”

“I’m glad you like it, you asshole.” You smile too, and push some of Joel’s hair out of his face. He finishes his bowl of soup, even has a second one. You take his bowl away and wash it at the sink.

“Should let me do that,” Joel says, following you into the kitchen. “Ain’t that how it works? One cooks, the other cleans.” Joel bumps you to the side and takes the soapy dish from your hands.

“Maybe another time,” you offer, attempting to take back the bowl. “Don’t want your germs on my dinnerware.” But Joel holds on tight, so you let him wash the dish. Since he wants to die on this hill. So you dry your hands, then feel his forehead once again. You frown, displeased that the bath didn’t work at curbing his fever at all. He’s still burning up. “I’ll be right back.” 

You go to your bathroom and open the cabinet vanity, where you have an old Walgreens thermometer, the paint all smudged off. You wash it with soap and water in the sink, then return to Joel. Amazingly, you find him in the bed doing his word search puzzle, and you didn’t even have to tell him to go lay down this time. 

The bed creaks under you as you sit down next to him. You put his book down, “Open,” you tell him, thermometer in hand.

“Oh, c’mon now,” Joel complains. “Get that thermometer outta my face.”  

You shake your head no, and tug on Joel's chin so that he opens his mouth. You place the thermometer under his tongue and he closes his lips around it, staring daggers at you the entire time thermometer reads his temperature. 

He’s so handsome. Big, sparkling brown eyes underneath brows knit together in irritation. Pouting lips. Age looks good on him, perfectly both softens and enhances his rougher edges.

The thermometer beeps. You read the temperature, 102.3°F. Why Joel’s even upright with a fever like this is a mystery, but that’s men for you. Fucking idiots. “That’s a hell of a fever you’re running, Joel.”

“You’re full’a shit. Gimme that.” Joel sniffles and snatches the thermometer from you to read the number for himself. He shrugs. “S’old. Probably faulty. Can’t trust it.” Joel covers his mouth with his elbow and coughs loudly. 

“You’re old and faulty too, Joel. Look at you.” You offer him a handkerchief to wipe his nose. “You’re falling apart.” 

Joel scowls at you before blowing his nose. You leave him once more, this time to bring him a cool, damp rag. You press it against his forehead, and Joel closes his eyes. “Does that feel nice?”

“No. Quit that.” 

But Joel’s body betrays him. He’s sighing in relief, and his tensed muscles loosen. His breathing, while still shallow, has slowed as much as it can, soft belly rising and falling with steady breaths.

“Are you falling asleep?” 

“No, I’m not. M’not tired,” Joel argues. He tries adjusting the now lukewarm rag, warmed by his body heat.

“You should sleep.”

“Nah.”

 You take the damp rag off of Joel’s forehead and flip it so that the cooler side soothes his hot, feverish skin. “You know, Joel, I think this is why god made women. To take care of stupid, sick men like you.”

“Hm. Could be so. But I think he sent you to me as a punishment of sorts.” 

“Is that so? A punishment?”

“S’right. An’ some day, you’ll fool some poor man into marryin’ you and he’ll have to put up with this same shit the rest of his life. I don’t envy that sorry bastard one bit.” 

“Oh, I know,” you coo, wiping away a droplet of water that rolls down his temple. “You tell me all about it, Joel. Tell me how terrible it is.”

“Oh, I intend to.” Joel continues his tirade, bitching and moaning about how you're doing too much, that none of this is necessary. ‘Quit fussin’ over me’ and so on.

You know that after this, Joel will try to leave you, go home and fiddle with things in his home that aren’t broken - or worse yet, he’ll tinker with the things in yours that he deems in need of fixing. Squeaky door, creaky floor panels. You listen to his slight wheezing, his sniffling, his voice all raspy and broken. He really does need to rest, the poor man. 

If you had cough syrup, you’d use that to put his ass to sleep. But you don’t, so you decide to utilize a different technique, one that always successfully incapacitates a man. 

You remove the damp rag from Joel’s head and set it on the coffee table behind you. Joel’s eyes are shut as he takes shallow breaths, and you trace lazy patterns on his stomach, inching your way down, down, until you’re rubbing his warm bulge, feeling him stiffen beneath your touch. “Goddamnit, what the hell are you doin’ t’me, now?” Joel groans. He takes your wrist and squeezes it gently in his grip.

“Nothing, Joel,” you answer innocently.

 “Bullshit, it’s - you’re - oh, fuck.” Joel bucks into your palm. You slide your hand beneath his sweatpants to touch his bare cock, amused at how Joel decided against wearing boxers today. “You’re killin’ me, sweetheart. You gotta, you can’t–”

“Shhh,” you hush him. You drag your nails through his patch of coarse hair, playing with those long and wiry hairs. You palm his cock again, half hard and growing harder by the second. Before this goes further, you tug his sweatpants down his thighs. “Lift up for me, Joel.”

Joel lifts his hips and you tug his sweats down the rest of the way, then continue touching him. You spit into your hand and pump him from top to bottom, taking special care to gently massage his balls when you reach the base of his cock. “Ohh, darlin’. Oh lord.” 

Joel’s stiffened to full length now. You kiss the tip of his cock, all the way down his shaft before licking your way back up, one long, fat stripe. You swirl your tongue around the head and dip your head, teasing him with it as you bob your head up and down, taking more and more of him down your throat with each pass.

Joel moans, his sick voice breaking a little. He keeps a heavy hand on your bobbing hand and wonders what the hell he did to deserve this from you. He should have stopped fighting his sickness long ago if this is what was in the cards for him. 

Realization dawns on Joel. It all makes sense, why you’re sucking him off at this particular moment. You’re trying to put him to bed, you goddamn deviant. “You’re trouble,” he accuses. “I know exactly what you’re doin’.” 

“Hmm?” You turn your head to Joel, his cock still in your mouth. You bounce it against your inner cheek, and Joel groans at the lewd image of his cockhead bulging in your mouth.

“Yeah,” Joel says. “And let me - oh, fuck-” You drop your head low, taking all of him into your mouth. So deep that your nose is buried in his pubic hair. “Let me tell ya, darlin’, what you’re doin - it ain’t gonna work on me.”

You pull off of his cock with a pop. “It won’t?”

Joel shakes his head. “Mm-mm. You’re wastin’ your time.” 

“Oh. Well, I should stop, then.” 

You begin to pull off of his cock, but Joel forces you back down. “Nah, you don’t have t - you gotta give it your best shot, right?”

You smile with Joel’s cock in your mouth. What a fucking guy. You pull off of him only momentarily, garnering a protesting groan spilling from his lips. You take off your shirt and unbutton your pants. “Lemme help you with that, c’mere, darlin’,” Joel says, pulling your pants and panties down your legs. He unclasps your bra next, then sheds his own clothing. 

You take him right back into your mouth, hollowing your cheeks as you suck his length. This time, though, you play with your pussy. As you move up and down Joel’s shaft, you slip through your folds, dipping down to your wet hole to gather your arousal on your fingertips. You circle your clit a couple of times, then push your fingers in and out of your pussy. 

“You fuckin’ yourself on your fingers, sweetheart?”

“Mm-hm,” you hum, mouth stuffed full of Joel’s cock.

Joel pulls your hand away and replaces your fingers with his own, much thicker and longer ones. “Let me,” he says. “S’my job. Shouldn’t have t’do that to yourself, ‘less you wanna. Or if I say so.” 

Joel spreads your thighs wider. He moves his pointer and middle fingers up and down, exploring your slick, velvety pussy. He sucks those two fingers and then his thumb and rubs tight circles around the sensitive nub, all swollen and wet with your arousal. You moan at the action, the vibration of your voice traveling right down his shaft and to his balls. He bucks himself into your mouth.

Joel inserts his middle and ring fingers into your pussy, pumping in and out slowly before curling them upward, stroking right where you need him to. “Got a nice fuckin’ pussy,” he purrs with his hoarse, gravelly voice. You pulse around his fingers, and Joel admires the way your tight hole hugs him as he moves in and out of you. “She’s makin’ such a mess, drippin’ all over me.” 

You twist your fist up and down Joel’s shaft as you suck him, working him closer and closer to the edge. Joel’s content with this, the prospect of coming down your throat and fucking you with his fingers. But you have a different idea, and when his balls are tightening and his shaft is twitching, his breathing quickening, you pull off of him. 

Joel groans in frustration, but his anger is quickly eased when you straddle his hips. You reach between your legs for his cock and stroke it, dragging the tip through your folds, up and down, up and down, dipping it in and out of yourself to tease him. “You’re fightin’ dirty.” 

 Joel’s exercised enough self control today and doesn’t let you tease him for long. He puts both of his large, weathered, and masculine hands on your waist and pulls you right down on his cock, the initial penetration causing a stretch so intense you see stars for a second. “Oh god, Joel,” you moan, clutching his shoulders. 

“I know, I know,” Joel whispers, rubbing your back. “You good, sweetheart? You need a minute?”

 “Just - just a second.”

 “Take your time. Know it’s a lot, you’ll get used to it.” 

Joel gives you a second, then inches you up and down on his cock to get you adjusted to the sensation of being so full of him. Soon enough, the ache dissipates and is replaced with pleasure, nothing but pure pleasure. You rest against his hot body, rocking your hips to grind against his pubic bone. 

You know that by the way he bucked his hips into your mouth, how he pulled you down on his cock, how even now he moves you, that he’ll tire himself out. Your plan was simply to make him come to knock him out, but this - this works too. Exhaust his body, get yourself off in the process. Killing two birds with one stone. 

Joel fucks you harder now, hands on your ass to move you up and down on his cock. He bends his legs at the knee for more leverage, bouncing you on his lap. “That’s it, sweetheart,” he grunts. He moves you so that your chest is right above his face, and one at a time, sucks your nipples into his mouth, teeth lightly grazing them. 

You hold onto Joel’s broad shoulders to steady yourself, looking down at him as he fucks himself into you. He’s so handsome, cheeks and chest all flushed red, a sheen of sweat glittering at his hairline, his graying curls damp. Joel’s eyebrows are knit together as he fucks you, tracing your curves with his gaze. He pulls you against his chest as he ruts against you, his scruff scratching your skin so deliciously. “Takin’ me so good. Look so pretty on my cock like this.” 

You move at his will. Joel’s underneath you, rocking himself  in and out of your dripping, tight pussy. His thrusts are getting sloppy, hips stuttering in a non-rhythm as he pushes himself inside you over and over. He must be getting close now. 

“Up, sweetheart. Lean back f’me.” 

You peel yourself off of Joel’s middle, all slick with his sweat. Joel spits into his hand and presses the calloused pads of his fingertips against your clit. You roll your hips against him, savoring that much-needed friction against your clit.

“Like that, darlin’. Jus’ like that. Fuck yourself on my cock,” Joel says, rubbing your sensitive bud with tight circles. “Gonna watch you come all over me.” 

“Yeah,” you moan, “Wanna come for you.” 

Joel loves you like this. Your face contorted in pleasure, mouth agape, body quivering and twitching on top of him. He steadily massages your wet, swollen clit and wears a crooked smile when he feels your cunt start to pulse around him. And you think you’re pulling one over on him, but look at you, all fucked out and delirious. You’ll probably crash after this, and Joel will go right back to fixing up your house. There’s a door hinge that’s been squeaking…

“Oh my - Joel, I’m - I’m gonna -” 

“Know you are, sweetheart. Let me have it,” he groans, voice all broken and hoarse. “Come all over my cock, darlin’. Let go f’me.” 

That hot, sticky pleasure in your gut begins to intensify rapidly. You go quiet just before it happens, then let out a long, whimpering moan when your orgasm takes over your body. You shudder and jerk as Joel fucks you through your release, and once you’ve ridden it out, Joel pulls you tight against his chest. 

While you come down from your high, Joel frantically fucks you, slamming his hips against yours as he chases his own climax, balls tightening and his belly filling with warmth. “Oh, goddamn. Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Joel pants as he comes, painting your insides with his hot seed, the warmth of his release and the pulsing of his cock so satisfying. 

Coming down from his orgasm, a wave of exhaustion hits Joel. He finds himself unable to move, unable to open his heavy eyelids. He might’ve been wrong, because napping away the rest of the afternoon doesn’t sound quite so bad, now.

You pull your body off of Joel’s and he lets out a sighing grunt when his softening cock slides out of your body, the mess he created with you spilling all over his lap. You grab that washrag you held against his forehead and clean him up and then yourself, then get up to dispose of it. 

Joel grabs you by the arm, his grip weak. “Don’t you go anywhere, trouble,” he grumbles. 

“But I’ve gotta take care of this, Joel,” you protest. 

“Deal with it later. Just -” Joel yawns and pulls you down and holds you tight against his chest, as tight as he can, anyway. “Jus’ stay with me a minute.” 

Joel’s eyes are still shut, and his breathing becomes slow and rhythmic. It’s laughable how quickly sleep is taking over his sick, exhausted body, having used what little life he had in himself to fuck you stupid. Like that last burst of energy from a dying star. “I thought you weren’t tired,” you tease.

Joel sniffles. “M’not.” 

“Mhm. Sure.” 

“Just checkin’ my eyelids for holes.”

You push some curls out of Joel’s face and hold your palm against his cheek, still hot with his fever. He’s so peaceful looking like this, plump lips pouting as he breathes through his mouth. You bring your face close to his and close the gap by pressing a little kiss against his lips. 

“What’re you kissin’ me for, hm?” 

“I want to,” you reply, kissing him again.

“Gonna get yourself sick,” Joel murmurs groggily, eyes still closed. “Which means in a couple days, I get to do all this right back to you. S'payback, darlin’.”

You chuckle. And in just a few short seconds, Joel’s snoring lightly, dead to the world.

If you enjoyed, please please please reblog with thoughts or comment or hop in my inbox! Your kind words go farther than you know in keeping me motivated to write 💕

[kirsteng42]

WOW!!!!!

Reflection of the Moon,

Ch 1 - First one's free

Joel Miller x f!reader

Welcome to my new Joel Miller series!! Hope you enjoy :)) All chapters will be on my masterlist.

Series summary: An affair with Joel results in a pregnancy that neither of you are prepared for.

Chapter summary: You meet Joel Miller and form an immediate connection.

Warnings: Smut, no use of y/n, post outbreak but no golf, references to canon violence, age gap (Joel is 52 and reader is 28), cheating, creampie, unprotected sex, size/height kink, references to masturbation and rough sex

A/N: I reference Joel and Ellie's trip to Utah and, in this fic, the Firefly doctors drew Ellie's blood and let her go, so their relationship is the same as when he's in the mood for shitty puns :))

Word count: 7.3k Rating: 18+ AO3

You're sitting in the dining hall on a Thursday night, having dinner with Maria and a few friends, robotically stabbing a piece of food with your fork, putting it in your mouth, chewing, swallowing, repeating the pattern until your plate is empty, while you stare at the table and think about the pile of assignments on your desk at home that you need to grade before you go to bed. 

It’s the same every day, more or less. The conversation is buzzing around you and you’re listening with one ear, not really caring if you’re being honest, until Maria says something that catches your attention. “He’s like a killing machine” she says, shuddering a little and shaking her head.

She sucks in air through her teeth and looks into the table, trying to decide which story about her brother in law is appropriate to retell to an audience. “Tommy wasn’t a saint either,” she says and surrenders her hands, “But Joel… You look at him wrong and you’re done for”. 

You’ve heard bits and pieces about Tommy’s older brother, the occasional anecdote from Tommy about life before the outbreak, about his teenage niece who died right when the outbreak happened, but it was all pretty mild. To say there’s no consistency between the Joel Miller you heard about over the last two years and the Joel Miller you’re hearing about now would be an understatement, and you zone out a little. 

You can barely recall seeing a photo of him a long time ago, you think he has brown hair and brown eyes, but it’s all a blur. You regretfully didn’t catch the beginning of the conversation, now you’ve missed the middle, and at this point it’s too late to ask why this topic came up in the first place, so you settle for listening to the tail end and trying to put the pieces together on your own later. 

“Anyway, Tommy left, of course”, she shrugs and takes a bite, “Joel stayed in Boston.. And now we’re here”. This isn’t gonna make a lick of sense later, should’ve paid attention this time, fuck. 

“He killed an old lady?!” Harper asks, her eyes wide and mouth hanging open. Finally some details. Maria nods, but she’s quick to excuse it, “She was moments away from attacking Sarah, the outbreak just reached Austin that night, so I’ll give him a pass for that one”. 

“First one’s free, I guess?”

Your joke doesn’t land. 

“Tough crowd” you mutter and clear your throat, finishing your dinner quietly.

You don’t know for sure how much murder your friends have witnessed. You have a silent agreement amongst yourselves to talk as little about outbreak-related violence as possible, trying to focus on creating an environment where you can live normally-ish. 

In any case, you seem to be the most desensitized. You look at their plates and realize they’re only halfway done eating after all this time, Rhonda having pushed her plate a few inches in front of her even, while your own is completely clean. Yikes. Had Maria been talking about murder this entire time? 

“Tommy said he was never the same after that” Maria says, her voice tinged by a cross between empathy and disappointment, “I don’t even want to think about what that man’s body count is today”. You find yourself morbidly curious, but asking would be kind of sick. 

You faintly hear more questions and answers going back and forth across the table, but you’re zoning out again. You see their eyes widen and hands covering their mouths in horror at what Tommy had told Maria about living in the Boston QZ with his brother, and you just have to play along, feigning shock and disgust. 

When in reality, your heart pounds and your core throbs at the thought of having a man like that for yourself, one who’s willing to kill for you. That’s kinda fucked up you think to yourself when you feel a pull towards a man you’ve never even met, after hearing brutal stories of how far he’s willing to go to protect someone he loves. 

You all finish eating and you head home, walking in silence next to your friends who have gotten onto several other topics already, while your mind is still on Joel, this mysterious figure who’s always had sort of a presence here despite never setting foot in the commune itself. 

You walk in the door and see Jay in the kitchen, give him a kiss and ask him about his day. “Pretty good”, he says, “Normal”. Cool. “How about yours?” he asks as you turn the corner into the living room. “Same, normal” you say, “Lot of stuff to grade for tomorrow”. 

The rest of the night is spent grading homework assignments and papers, preparing for tomorrow’s classes, and folding laundry, mentally stuck on the stories Maria told and the emotions they stirred up inside you.

-

You’re tapping at the desk with the back of your pencil, grading a paper written in nearly illegible cursive, wondering why some of the parents in the commune still insist on their kids learning how to write cursive after all these years, when you’re startled by a booming voice outside the window of the school building. 

“TOMMYYYYY!”

Your eyes snap up and you see a large man running towards Tommy, leaving behind several horses, Maria riding one of them, and a girl you haven’t seen before on another, when it suddenly hits you. 

Holy shit. That has to be Joel. There’s no way it’s not. 

You shuffle over to the window and your eyes are nearly glued to the glass. You should be concerned about the fact that he can probably see you standing there, like a massive creep, but you’re too distracted by how stunningly beautiful he is, even at a distance. 

That’s the killing machine Maria talked about?

That absolute teddy bear of a man?

You watch them embrace each other, and the school building is so close to where Tommy is working today that you essentially have front row tickets to their reunion. You can’t hear anything they’re saying, but you can see Joel’s eyes welling up, and you watch for a minute until your coworker knocks on the doorframe of the classroom, making you jump. 

“What are you looking at?” Gio asks. “Oh, nothing” you mutter, your eyes still stuck to the mysterious man standing less than a hundred feet away from you. Gio comes up to the window and moves his head around, trying to see where your gaze is so fixated. 

He gasps a little, “Is that Tommy’s big brother?”. “I think so” you say quietly. “Good genes in that family, madone” he says and imitates wiping sweat from his forehead, “One of them was already overwhelming to the senses and now there’s two of these beautiful Millers?”. He clicks his tongue and shakes his head. 

“I know, right?” you say with a bit of a laugh. The understatement of the century, and you’ve never even looked at Tommy twice. You’re just standing there and pretending like Joel Miller isn’t the most gorgeous man you’ve ever seen in your life. 

“Let’s go have lunch, I’m starving” he says and nudges your shoulder, and you blink a few times before turning around and heading out of the classroom.

It isn’t until dinner time that you meet him again, when he’s already sat in the dining hall with the girl you recognize from earlier, as well as Tommy and Maria. Your usual dinner companions, plus Jay, join you and sit down at their table, getting introduced one by one to the newcomers. 

As it turns out, the girl’s name is Ellie, she’s sixteen, and she will be joining your class sometime in the near future, after she and Joel go off on some sort of mission to a Firefly hospital in Utah. They start to explain why they’re headed out there, but you get distracted again. 

You’re barely even able to enunciate your own name when it’s your turn, and you can physically feel it when Joel’s striking, deep, chocolate brown eyes look at you, take you in, and hold your own gaze hostage the entire time you introduce yourself as a teacher at the school. 

You’re out of breath when it’s Rhonda’s turn, and you want to look at her as she talks, you want to pay attention, but you just can’t look away from Joel. So handsome. Good lord. Unlike anyone you’ve ever seen.  

You stare at him up and down, taking in his big hands folded on the table, broad shoulders hidden by soft flannel, strong jaw decorated by patchy gray scruff, a surprisingly thick mustache, strong nose too, tan skin with little wrinkles around those gorgeous dark eyes and furrowed, skeptical brows, gray and brown streaked messy curls. 

Your gaze trails back down to his face and stays there, thinking nothing of it until, suddenly, he glances back at you and meets your eyes. 

Two seconds go by with your eyes locked to his, two extremely long seconds, before you blink and dart your eyes around, then turn your head towards your friend next to you and listen as she talks about working in the communal gardens. 

You swallow and try to focus on your breathing, try to not think about the little shock that just went up from your seat, through your spine and into your stomach, and the subtle, barely noticeable sensation of your pulse between your legs. 

It’s been a long time since you’ve felt that pull towards someone, that electricity, that spark when you’ve gotten someone’s attention. It’s not that Jay is bad in bed, or bad in general, he’s fine. 

.. And that’s the problem right there. Not good enough to leave you wanting more, not bad enough for you to leave. 

He’s kind, respectful, so kind and respectful that he blushed when you asked him to choke you a little and he said he was afraid of hurting you. You didn’t wanna force him into anything, so you played it off as a joke and didn’t mention it again. 

But ever since that night, things have.. Dried up, and you resort to masturbating in the shower most nights, knowing he does the same. You’ve told yourself the honeymoon period is over, it’s been well over two years, but sometimes you wonder if there was ever such a phase in the first place. 

You can’t seriously be horny for a man who’s not even your boyfriend, and in the middle of the fucking dining hall, get it together you think to yourself, struggling to keep your thoughts at bay when you look down at his big hands, the way his veins bulge out of them, his nails, the hair on his knuckles.  

But focusing on anything other than the man across from you is proving to be extremely difficult, and you fight the urge to glare at him as you eat, having absolutely no clue what anyone is talking about or if anyone’s tried to get your attention since you sat down. 

A look here and there should be fine, though, right? Just one last look. Just a quick once-over at him and back. 

You carefully glance in his direction,

And he’s already looking at you. 

Great. 

You avert your eyes yet again, this time staring into your plate and only lifting your gaze when Ellie asks about school. Every time she asks a question, you can feel Joel’s eyes burning holes in you, staring at you with his arms folded, presumably making sure his de-facto daughter is in good hands. 

You have the same feeling of his eyes on your neck as you leave with Jay and your friends, wanting to give them some space to talk. 

-

When you get to work the next morning, you find out that Joel and Ellie have already left, and you have no idea when or if you’ll ever see them again. There are no guarantees in this world, and with no real way to reach out to them, all you can do is hope that they’ll come back. 

Selfishly, you hope he remembers you if he does come back to Jackson. 

You figure it’ll take some time to get to Salt Lake City and back, so you try to focus on work and try even harder to forget about your attraction to him while they’re gone, while he’s gone - as if he was ever really here in the first place. 

You focus on staying warm over the winter, helping out in the commune, seeing your friends, teaching, having dinner, spending time with Jay, going for a walk, sleeping, 

Teaching, having dinner, spending time with Jay, going for a walk, sleeping, 

Teaching, having dinner, spending time with Jay, going for a walk, sleeping. 

Weeks go by, following the same routine every day, and even though more and more time has passed since that one and only day you saw Joel, the mere hour you were in his presence, you find yourself thinking about him more and more, wondering about him. 

You teach and wonder what he’s like around kids, what he’s like as a dad. He seems protective over Ellie, he was clearly protective over Sarah, but you haven’t gotten much more of an impression than that. 

You go to the dining hall or make dinner at home and wonder if he’s a good cook, if he was one before the outbreak, you wonder what kind of food he likes. 

You go for walks with Jay or your cousin Abigail, and wonder what he likes to do in his free time, what his hobbies were back in the day. You know he was a contractor with Tommy, so he’s probably good at building stuff. 

You get in the shower and wonder what he’s like in bed, wonder how his sweat smells, how his come tastes, how his cock feels. You wonder if he’s rough or gentle, generous or selfish, slow or fast. 

You try not to think too much about it for the first few weeks, reminding yourself that you barely know this man and you have a goddamn boyfriend, a long term one at that. One you’re totally decently happy with. 

And it’s objectively speaking messed up to know that people are scared shitless of the man, and yet you still fantasize about taking his dick so far down your throat you gag and cry and he has to soothe you while he keeps pushing it in.

But when a month has gone by, and the thought of Joel is still the only thing that’s turned you on since you sat across from him with a damp stain in your panties, you give in. 

And you keep giving in, frequently stuffing yourself with your fingers in the shower and furiously rubbing your clit to fantasies of what it must be like to have him toss you around and fill you with his, if general size is any indicator, probably huge cock. You climax to the image of his face seared into your memory, biting your lip to hold back from moaning his name with Jay in the other room. 

The last time you had sex with Jay was probably about a month ago, if you recall correctly that is, right before Joel showed up. It was fine. He took a shower first out of courtesy, even though you said he didn’t have to, you came, he came, you cuddled a little then went to bed, nothing crazy.  

No man has occupied your shower fantasies for a long time, leaving you getting off purely to the idea of getting off, fucking your hand in front of the mirror just to see something vaguely titillating from time to time when Jay is still out on patrol. 

But now you can barely think about anything else aside from Joel. It would probably be better if he didn’t come back, just so you don’t have to look him in the eyes one day and know that you’ve had your hand between your thighs every goddamn night for the past god knows how many weeks to the thought of him fucking you to pieces on every surface in your house.

On a particularly cold night, however, you find yourself cuddling with Jay, and start to feel guilty for your fantasies about Joel. You think back on your interactions with Jay lately, hoping none of them were out of the ordinary, that you weren’t acting weird or cold or absent. 

Maybe you just need to reconnect, you think, and start kissing him, trying to initiate something. 

He seems a little surprised, albeit pleasantly, so you keep going, peeling off your clothes layer by layer, eventually ending up on top of him with his cock inside you, and you look up at the ceiling, knowing that if you look down, a sick feeling is going to strike you. 

You try to shove your wants and fantasies out of your head as Jay moves you back and forth, as he gets on top and asks if it’s good and you say yes and he keeps thrusting at a moderate pace and you try to tilt your hips up for him to get a little deeper but he’s not taking the hint so you ask if it’s okay that you touch yourself and he says yes and you make yourself come and then he pulls out right before he unloads on your stomach. 

And that’s it. 

That’s always it. 

Maybe that’s how it’s supposed to be. 

You clean up, get back in bed, and fall asleep pretending Joel’s arms are around you. 

-

It’s a beautiful spring evening. The air is warm, the sky is clear, and you’re at the dining hall having dinner with Gio when you look up from your plate for a second and your heart jumps at the sight of a familiar face entering the room, one with a scowl that’s sure to scare anyone off. 

Except for you. 

You catch his eye and he merely acknowledges you with a nod and a smile before he crosses the hall and finds Tommy. 

Joel remembers you, he’s alive, he’s here, maybe even here to stay. 

Your heart races and your hands shake as your eyes follow him to a table in the corner, and all you can do is stare at his back, covered by the fabric of the blue and white flannel button down he’s wearing, and his slightly longer, slightly messier curls, until Gio snaps his fingers in front of your face to get your attention, noticing you’ve completely zoned out. 

He doesn’t say anything, just he lets you sit there and stare for what only feels like ten seconds, but is probably more like three full minutes, before he gets impatient and tells you it's time to leave. 

-

It hits you immediately when you wake up the next morning that he’s back, and you feel weirdly excited, despite there being no guarantee you’ll see him today, and the fact that it’s beyond inappropriate for you to feel this way. And, to be fair, there’s no indication he’s even happy to see you again, he could’ve just smiled to be nice. 

But Joel Miller doesn’t really seem like the type to do something out of social obligation, so your heart flutters a little at the memory of him noticing you so quickly, smiling too, when he walked into the room. 

The lessons go by slowly, but it’s a half day today for some reason - pleasant surprise - and you spend your afternoon in the empty classroom grading papers. Fucking useless cursive you mumble to yourself with your eyes mere inches from the piece of paper on your desk, and you're startled by the sound of a knock to the doorframe. 

“Got a minute?” you hear in that deep, gravelly voice. You feel your breath hitching and try to nod reassuringly.

“Your coworker..” Joel starts and trails off, “Gio” Ellie says and slaps him. “Yes, Gio, he said you were free this afternoon, thought we could talk about Ellie enrollin’ in your classes”.

You show them both around, explain how the curriculum works and the subjects that you and your coworker teach, try to get an idea of how much she learned at her FEDRA school, and set up an education plan for her that she seems.. Sort of excited about. Okay with, at least. 

Ellie is easy to get along with, chatty and bubbly, and when the meeting is officially done, she demands Joel for permission to run off and make friends with the other teenagers in the commune. It’s a pretty typical father and teenage daughter dynamic, despite the atypical circumstances they found each other in. 

He lets her go, telling her to be home by ten, but stays behind to ask more questions, seeming skeptical of you like a stranger despite having already met you months ago and remembering your name. 

He’s quite guarded at first, sitting on the other side of the desk with his arms folded, brows furrowed just like last time and eyes burning holes in yours, surveying your every move as you show him the teaching materials available to you and explain how you instruct students of different ages. 

The dated, pre-outbreak natural science, chemistry, biology and physiology textbooks in front of you are insufficient to say the least, but you do your best to apply it to the current times as a way to get your students engaged, get them to understand how such an outbreak can happen - even if it isn't clear to you either.

You aren’t intimidated by Joel's mannerisms or menacing expression, you understand that he’s protective of Ellie and wants to make sure she’s in good hands, so you focus on being yourself, answering his questions and being honest.

You are, surprisingly, able to stay professional, despite how horrendously good he looks wearing that navy sweater that hugs his biceps and shoulders, that brings out the warm tones in his eyes. 

The two of you stay there for almost an hour, talking about school and how you became an apocalypse teacher, and even though he’s still holding back after so much time, he relaxes his shoulders and his face softens a little more every time he chuckles at something you say. 

He eventually looks up at the clock on the wall behind you during a lull in the conversation, and you both notice that all the other teachers have left the school building by now. “Six o’clock already, Jesus,” he says with a surprised expression, then nods towards the door, “Let’s go have dinner, get your stuff”. 

-

You’re not entirely sure how it happens, but you somehow end up at Joel’s house after dinner. He watches you carefully as you wander around his living room, looking at the books sitting in his bookshelves, paintings of landscapes on the wall, and little wood carvings of animals. 

He sits down on the couch, tossing his arm along the back, and you sit down a respectful distance away from him. Over the course of the conversation, however, you realize you’re inching closer and closer, him staying where he is, until your knee is touching his thigh and you pretend not to notice. 

He glances down at your legs touching, pauses for a second, and looks back up at you. 

“Maria mentioned you and Jay are, uh-”, he trails off,

“He’s.. My boyfriend” you say and clear your throat, realizing you'd basically forgotten about him for hours until now,

“That’s nice” he says, “How long have ya'll been together?”

“About two years” you say, faking a smile that you drop after about a second, already feeling tired from straining your face. 

“Not my business really but,” he takes a breath, “You don’t seem all too excited about it” 

“No..” you concede, and start word vomiting at the opportunity to finally open up about how you feel, not just smalltalk about how you and Jay are doing as a couple, “He’s great, he’s a really great guy”

You chew on the flesh of your cheek and try to find the right words, “Everything’s good, I just-”, you sigh, “Sometimes I just feel like there might be someone better out there for both of us, you know?”

“Oh?”

“I can’t believe I’m telling you this” you groan and cover your face with your hands, looking into your lap and shaking your head, “It’s just.. Sexually, I don’t know”

“You don’t feel satisfied, I assume?”

“Why is it like that?” you say with a tone of disbelief, looking up at him, “Why is it so common for men to be shit in bed that you’re able to just assume that and be correct?” 

Joel laughs a little,

“He’s not shit in bed… He just..”, you look back down, wishing you could take back this entire conversation, feeling like an idiot for oversharing and dragging him into this, “It’s just not what I need”.

He nods, his eyes still on you. 

“Just.. For discussion's sake, okay”, you put your hands up but keep your eyes down, “Since you said that, since you’re aware of women often feeling this way, I assume you’re more.. Attentive, or- it seems like maybe.. I’m just wondering, like, what you-”

"Are you askin’ me what I'm like in bed?" he asks, clearly amused, 

"I guess.. I just wanna know what other men are like in bed, s-sometimes", your breathing speeds up a little as you divulge, “Men who are more, um, more like you, Joel”

"Why don't you find out for yourself?" he asks, and his voice has never sounded this soft, this breathy, this coaxing or this fucking hard to resist, “Then you’ll know, don't have to wonder”

“We really shouldn’t” you say quietly, looking at his chest, knowing what will happen if you look up. 

“Doesn’t mean you don’t want to" he says, and lifts his hand to cradle your jaw and tilt your head up, “And I can’t resist you, so I guess that makes two of us”. You stay still in his hand with your eyes down, the faint throb in your core beginning to feel like it’s pounding,

You open your eyes and they immediately meet his, chocolate brown and so beautiful, and your breath catches in your throat as he leans in and kisses you. You close your eyes as you suck in his bottom lip, and let your tongue glide along his teeth.

He groans and pushes his tongue into yours, making you whimper, and you climb on top of him with his hands pulling you into his lap. He leans back into the side of the couch and you follow, stretching out on top of him, and tugging at the curls on the back of his head while you taste him and feel the small contractions starting deep down, wetness seeping into your panties. 

His reaches down to cup your ass while you grip the edge of the couch - big, strong hands so effortlessly steering you back and forth like he’s trying to fuck you through your clothes. You stay on top of him for a while, making out and grabbing at each other until you’re both flushed and panting, your nipples and his cock pushing through the restricting fabric keeping you apart.

You start rolling your hips on his crotch as you kiss him, grinding up against the massive bulge straining his jeans, feeling the wet patch in your panties rub against your swollen cunt. You can almost feel the contours of his cock from how hard it is and how sensitive you are when you drag your clothed pussy across his length.

A groan echoes in his chest as he winds your hips up and down for you, pressing against his erection. “You wanna go upstairs?” he asks, and you nod carefully, glancing over at the clock above his fireplace and noting that you still have about two hours before Jay comes home from patrol. 

He gently pushes you off to get up from the couch, takes your hand in his, and you follow him up the staircase, into his bedroom, and he sits down on his bed as you look around. 

You spot the Texas shaped wood carving on his wall and giggle to yourself. “C’mere, baby” he says, and starts to unbutton your pants as he stares up at you. 

You’ve never been looked at like this, gazed at like this, before him. He looks at you like you’re the only thing in the room, like everything else is dark and dreary and you’re illuminated somehow. 

You start feeling a little nervous for some reason, but try to shake it off as he slides your pants down your legs and you pull off your sweater. 

“Those are pretty” he says as he hooks a finger into the waistband of your panties and slides side to side, teasing the skin right above your mound and grabbing the back of your neck to deepen the kiss he gives you after you carefully thank him, and feel the back of his finger slip further down until it brushes your clit.  

You whimper in response, and all he does is smile, pull his hand out of your panties and stand up to unzip his pants. You grab the hem of his sweater and pull it up to reveal his bare torso, covered in little scars, with a noticeably larger one further down in his side that looks like he got stabbed by a broken bottle or something of the sort. You try not to stare.

He pulls the sweater over his head while you look at his body, his thick middle and broad chest, decorated with gray hair. Then you glance down to his boxers and the nervousness starts spinning up again as you brush your fingers along his clothed length and see how big he is. 

This is gonna hurt, and you want it to, you want to feel him tomorrow and the next day. You pull them down and look at his cock and your stomach tightens at the sight. You whimper involuntarily, eyes glued to the base covered in short, thick, dark hair. Your eyes flick up to his and he looks down at you calmly, strokes your hair with one hand as you glance back down at him.

He's not in a rush, and you can't help but wonder if maybe he's enjoying you staring at his dick like this, overwhelmed and horny, he can assume, judging by the way you shift your crossed legs around and bite your lip, trying to figure out how you're gonna take all of it.

It's just so big, you can't possibly fit your hand around his shaft. You bring your hand to him and trace up his length with your fingertips, along the veins leading the way to the thick head, flushed and glistening with arousal. It twitches a little and you look up at him again, still calm and observing you, gently touching the back of your neck.

Fuck you whisper, and he laughs a little before he unhooks your bra, slides your panties down your legs and scans you up and down, letting out a groan, before he lifts you up and lays back on the bed with you on top of him.

“You want me to touch you?” he asks, and slips his hand between your thighs when you nod, smiling in anticipation. He slides a single finger into you and makes a face, and you pull away, feeling that nervousness come back. 

“So tight” he whispers with a grunt, “Think you’re a bit tense”

“Am I?” you feign ignorance, 

“It’s alright if you’re nervous” he says with a hint of a smile, “Just gotta relax you a little, okay? Don't want anything to hurt”. 

He sits up against the headboard and turns you around so you lay against his chest, your body between his legs, with his cock prodding your back, and he gently spreads your thighs open. “Show me how you rub your clit” he murmurs, nosing your ear, “Need to know how you like it, honey”. 

You nod carefully, and bring your hand down to your pussy, starting to rub yourself with two fingers while he watches over your shoulder and kisses up and down your neck. “I got it, baby” he whispers and replaces your hand with his, urging you to relax back on to him. 

He circles your cit and touches your body with his other hand, running it up and down your chest, teasing your nipple, moving down your hip and along your thigh, until he hears you start softly moaning from his gentle rubbing. 

One finger slides in through your tight opening, then two, as he kisses your neck and shoulder and whispers how well you’re doing, that you’re such a good girl, taking his fingers so well, asking how his fingers feel inside you and on your clit. 

“Does that feel good?”, he curls his fingers into your tender spot and your core starts to tighten, your moans a cue for him to pick up the pace on your clit, “You gonna come for me, sweetheart?”. 

“Yes, yes, Joel” you whimper as your entire torso tenses up and you start to come, and his fingers stay inside you, soft circles still stimulating your clit. “I think you’re ready for my cock, huh, pretty thing?” he whispers, and you nod again, still coming down from your climax. 

He lays you down on your back as he sits back on his heels, and you look him up and down as he adjusts the pillows under your head. His chest is flushed red, breaths rugged and his stomach is tightened, cock leaking precome and flushed too. 

You reach out to gently grab the head of his cock and start to stroke him with his own slick, and he grunts, low and deep in his chest, stilling as he leans over you and supports himself on his hands flat on the bed. 

“Just like that, baby, just like that” he mutters, and he’s leaking like a faucet as you're stroking his length, “Fuck, that feels so good”. You stay there for a while, and he slips two fingers into you, making you moan and tighten your grip on him. 

The slick of his precome and sound of his grunts make you twitch with arousal, wanting him inside you but enjoying the feeling of being so horny for someone and feeling so good under a man.

“I-I need to get inside you, can’t wait any longer” he breathes, and you spread your legs as he hovers over you, guides his cock to your pussy and pushes the head in slowly. “You want my cock?” he asks, his voice suddenly lowering as he gets covered in your wetness. 

“Yeah” you whimper, and he pushes into you, stretching you beyond what you thought possible, thrusting half of his length in and out a few times before hooking his hands under your knees and pulling your legs up, letting him slide all the way in until he hits your cervix and you whimper at the sensation.  

“Joel, Joel, please” you mumble, unsure what you’re even asking for while he gives it to you slowly, “You feel so good, I-, fuck, right there”. “Yeah, you like that?” he growls, and watches you as your eyes roll back, feeling his cock so deeply it’s like he's scratching your spine. 

He fucks you slowly for a while, with gentle, deep strokes, letting you feel every inch of him as he fills you then pulls back until only his tip is within you, then pushes back inside, over and over as you get used to the intrusion. He watches you the entire time, looks into your eyes and grunts when he bottoms out and your brows furrow, a weak whimper escaping your lips.  

“Let me see those pretty tits, huh?” he says and snakes his hands under your back, lifting you up as you hook your legs around him, and he sits back. He fucks up into you while shoving his face into your chest, catching your nipple in his mouth, licking and sucking on it, biting a little, making you jerk before he pulls you back towards him. 

The hair on his pubic bone tickles you as you grind your clit on him, getting closer and closer every time you squeeze and release all the muscles in your core. “Come for me again, princess” he mutters through his teeth, and his voice propels you towards the edge, “I can feel you’re about to come, just let go”. 

You’re overwhelmed by the way he grabs and squeezes your hips, drags you up and down and back and forth on top of him, watches you with furrowed brows, laser focused on getting as far up into your guts as he possibly can, shoves the head of his cock directly into the softest spot inside your body, and tightens his grip when he hears your whining moans. 

You start to come with a broken scream of his name, and he keeps you on his lap until you’ve calmed down, then pushes his large palm into your sternum until you’re laying down in front of him with your legs still folded. 

Finally, finally you think when he pulls your thighs onto his and your shoulder blades are dipping into the sheets. You're anchored onto his lap by his hands, and his cock is hitting a spot inside you that makes you squirm and moan uncontrollably, as he thrusts into you and stares down at you with dark, hungry eyes, groaning and growling every time he exhales. 

“So good, fuck, you’re so big” you force out between moans, bordering on howls,

“Yeah?” he grunts, “You're gonna milk my fuckin’ cock?” 

“Y-yes, yes, Joel”

“Shit, show me where you're gonna feel me tomorrow, baby” he growls, staring down across your stomach, your hips, and your legs splayed out for him. 

“Here” you say and brush your lower abdomen,

“Right there?” he asks, prodding the area you pointed out with his palm, 

You nod and smile carefully,

“That’s right” he breathes, “Good girl”.

Happily, you lay there while he takes and takes, giving you exactly what you need, filling you up and stretching you out, turning you into putty and molding you into whatever he wants you to be in this moment. 

You could cry from the relief of finally finding someone who knows how to wind you up and break you down like this. Wanting him to destroy you every night so you can knock out in a deep sleep and wake up the next morning, ready for him to do it all over again. 

“I’m not stoppin’ till you come again for me” he growls, and slides his hand onto your lower stomach, pushing until the intensity of his thrusts skyrockets and your eyes widen. 

“I-, Joel, I-” you start to stutter when you notice how suddenly close you are, but it turns into an incoherent mess of whimpers when a flood of warm liquid soaks his cock and thighs. “That’s it, baby, come on my cock just like that” he mutters and digs his fingers into your hip. 

Then he tells you he's gonna pound you till your legs shake, till you can barely stand up straight and you struggle to get home, till you're so fucked out you fall asleep in his bed and everyone watches you leave his place in the morning, knowing he fucked you. 

“F-fuck, baby, so tight, makin’ me come” he stutters, his pace turns sloppy and his cock pulsates while his come spurts out and fills you to the brim. He takes a few breaths as he comes down from his orgasm, then looks down at the seed leaking out of you already, and his eyes widen in realization. 

“Shit, I’m so sorry” he fumbles around for a piece of clothing to clean you up with, “I-I was gonna pull out, I just-” 

“It's okay” you say, waving your hand, “I just had my period, so it’s… It’s probably fine”. 

He pulls out with a groan, and you slip out of his bed with your hand cupping yourself, stumbling to the bathroom with shaky legs as he chuckles a little at the sight of you while he gets dressed. 

You look at yourself in the mirror, at your messy hair, swollen lips, flushed chest, neck and face, sweaty temples, perky and flushed nipples, and all you can do is smirk, knowing you finally got fucked the way you needed to, the way you fantasized about all those nights. You were right about him, so fucking right about him. 

He’s sitting on the bed when you come back, and he hands you one of his flannels to wear as you walk into the room. It smells like him, feels warm and soft, and it's so big you’re swimming in it but it's perfect. 

“Oh, I love this” you giggle and run your hands across the fuzzy fabric covering your arms, “So soft, wish I could live in it”. He smiles a little and scans you up and down before he reaches out and pulls you in by your waist, placing you between his legs. 

“I’ve seen this one before,” you say, looking closely at the flannel button down, “You wore it when you came to the dining hall after you came back from Utah”

He doesn’t say anything, and he doesn’t have to, but he smiles, and his eyes don’t leave you for a second. 

You lay your arms over his shoulders so your face is level with his as he sits on the edge of the bed, taking in the view of you in his shirt. 

“Thank you, Joel”, you tug at the curls dipping down onto his neck, “And sorry, for dragging you into my.. Sexual frustration, I guess”

“It’s okay”, he says as he pushes your hair behind your ear, “You have needs, I understand. Nothin’ wrong with that”. 

“I know, I just..”, you sigh and look down, “I have a boyfriend, I-”

“I know, but if he ain’t givin’ you what you need” he says, and your shoulders relax at the sound of his voice, coaxing and soothing as he runs his hands along your waist, “Nothing’s stoppin’ you from comin’ over, lettin’ me take care of you”  

“You won’t tell anyone?”

“That ain’t nobody’s business but ours, baby”, he strokes your cheek with his thumb, looks you up and down for a moment, “It’s just between you and me”. 

You slink down onto his lap, your legs resting on either side of his thick thighs, and his hand finds your waist again. Time is running out and you know you have to leave soon, as soon as possible really, but you need him somehow and you can’t pull yourself away. 

“Isn’t it wrong?” you ask, knowing the answer, 

He shrugs, doesn’t look even a bit bothered, and you know that after the last twenty years, being the side piece for a woman like you can’t be considered anything other than very, very right. 

You stay quiet for a little while too, feeling the warmth of his touch, slowly winding your hips to find him already hard again in his jeans. 

“Can I come back? On Friday?”, you wrap one of his curls around your finger, pull it taut for a second before letting go, and watch it spring back into place, “Jay has patrol again, so-”

“Whenever you want, sweetheart” he murmurs, and kisses you carefully, “I’ll write down my work schedule, door’s always open for ya” 

You savor your last few moments with Joel, dig your nose into the side of his neck and breathe him in, filling your lungs with his scent. His hands are so soothing on the skin of your back, melting the tension in your muscles. 

-

Lifting your shoulder, you take a whiff of your skin before you walk in the door to your house, covered in goosebumps and wishing you didn’t leave the flannel at Joel’s. You quickly realize that your entire arm smells like him, shit, both of your arms smell like him, like his sweat, his musk, his sex, and your pussy clenches at the scent, forcing the last drops of his come still left within you to seep out into your panties.

In an ideal world, you’d go to bed smelling like him and wake up tomorrow sniffing it, but you have no choice now, other than to quickly get in the door and run to the bathroom, rinse the come off your wet panties, dig them into the bottom of the laundry hamper, shower off the scent of your choices, and sit down at the dining table with assignments in front of you the rest of the night. 

Jay comes home at some point, not too late, and you feel your stomach sinking when he walks in the door. He comes over to give you a kiss, and it doesn’t feel right but you kiss him back, hoping he doesn’t notice your puffy lips and beard burn, feeling more like you’re cheating on Joel than on him if you’re being honest with yourself. 

He asks you what you did today, to which you respond that you went and saw Abigail for a bit after work, before you return to your assignments. You go through them one by one, feeling surprisingly clear headed, grading more papers than you’d usually manage in one night. 

After a while, you can barely keep your eyes open, and you stack the papers, put them in the corner of the table, head upstairs and get ready for bed. 

You rest your head on your arm over the pillow and realize there’s a tiny spot under your arm where you somehow didn’t scrub away Joel’s scent, and with your nose stuffed into your own armpit, you fall asleep before Jay comes in, knocked out in the deepest sleep you’ve had in as long as you can remember.

Chapter 2

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