#vampire!joel

[toxicanonymity]

Don't have to wait.

VAMPIRE JOEL x f!READER | 4k words | playlist

You're feeling down, and when Joel comforts you with an act of service, things get steamy. Big thank you to everyone who loves him and keeps thinking of him. 🖤 you don't need to read/re-read the others to enjoy this one.

WARNINGS: 18+, softdark, captivity, big girthy age gap (joel >400/reader 20s-50s), angst, dark fluff, bath, body worship, sexual tension, nipplegasm, dry humping, oral f receiving, romantic / dirty talk, cum eating. 

After drying your tears, Joel held you in your bed as you dozed off for an afternoon nap. Awake while you dreamt, he kept picturing the defeated look on your face as you cried into the pillow. He was afraid to ask what was wrong—he couldn’t bear to hear it out loud. It was the way your life had changed. The way you didn’t have the same freedoms. It was a strange new world, whether he liked to think of it that way or not. He could only imagine what it felt like to you. It was going to get better, SO much better, better than you could imagine, but change was always difficult. He’d seen enough change in his life to know. 

Joel had to think of something to help. Taking you out and about would be the right thing, since he knew it was what you wanted, but he was so afraid to lose you. He’d get there—he’d take you out, but not quite yet. Meanwhile, there had to be something he could do to help. He gently let your head off his bicep, kissed you on the forehead, slid out of bed, and admired you. You looked like an angel. Not just when you slept—all the time. 

He needed to think, so he went to a thinking space. 

Joel rolled open the dark barnhouse doors to his huge bathroom. There was one window, and it was stained glass. The floor was coated concrete,  like the basement, but with prettier swirls in dark colors that glimmered and went well with the window.  There was a fireplace on the wall that was shared by his bedroom, and a freestanding claw-foot bathtub. Hugging the porcelain tub on one side, there was a little washbin with its own spigot, like a little sidecar to the tub. He used the sidecar to lather up a sponge for his own baths, which normally didn’t involve much water.

He sat down on a throne-looking velvet chair to the side of the fireplace, facing the tub. He put his journal down on a darkened teak table. Physically, he had energy, but mentally, he was spent.  He rested his head against the chair and crossed his arms loosely. He looked at his granite counter, and behind it, the wall. Where a mirror would normally be, there hung artwork with black frames in fancy shapes.  

Joel climbed in the dry tub fully clothed, sock-footed. He wrapped his cardigan tighter around himself, rested his head against the porcelain, and lay there in the empty tub. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and as he exhaled, it hit him. He could draw you a bath. It’d been a long time since he’d seen a full bath in real life, but he’d seen plenty in movies. He could bring in some flowers, light some candles.  It was so comfortable there in that room. 

Baths are good. Relaxing. Romantic. He knew this. He knew a lot. Everything he watched, and a lot of things he read, were all about human culture and practices. It was impossible not to absorb the knowledge, he just wasn’t used to accessing it for practical purposes. But he was getting better at it. He had to give himself credit for that.

—

When you woke up, Joel was sitting on your bed, pensively reading his journal.  When he noticed you were awake, he took off his glasses and folded them into his v-neck.  “Morning, honey,” he whispered, and gave you a kiss on the forehead. Then he reached over to the table on his side. He had ordered coffee and a croissant from your favorite cafe–the one where you met. You sat up, accepted the tray, and sipped your coffee. 

“You know, i’d really like to go back to that cafe,” you admitted, then tried to appeal to his way of thinking. “Wouldn’t you? Back to where we had our first date?” 

Joel smiled and his eyes sparkled. “Yeah.” He jotted it down in his journal. “But hey, today, I got a surprise for ya here. Gonna show you somewhere new.” 

“A new room?” 

“Yeah. I’ll be back in a bit, okay? You can change into this.” He left you a silk robe. 

—

—

With you by his side, Joel rolled open the massive doors to reveal the air of a gothic cathedral. Steam rose from the claw-foot tub. Candelabras flickered on the walls. The stained-glass window bathed the water in red. The fireplace was on, flowers were on nearly every surface, and the air smelled of patchouli. 

Joel asked if you wanted him to turn around while you got in, but you said it was okay. He took the silk robe off your shoulders and admired your beautiful back. “You’re so pretty,” he muttered. “I’m the luckiest guy in the world.” He held his hand out and you used it for balance as you dipped a toe into the water. “How is it?” he asked. 

“Perfect,” you answered, and he beamed. 

As you sunk into the water, Joel stood and watched, holding an old book with both hands.  He was so strange, but the strangest thing about him was how normal he seemed sometimes. Like a hot professor with a few screws loose. 

Settling into the water, you brought your knees to your chest. 

“Anything I can bring ya?” 

“I’m good, thanks,” you answered. 

Joel hung up his cardigan on the wall, then dragged his throne-like chair in front of the fireplace and sat with his book in his lap. He was posted like a lifeguard, alert and pleased to see you enjoying the experience he set up. 

You looked at him, wondering if he wanted something. 

He assured you, “Don’t worry, I’m not gonna leave ya.” He couldn’t risk you drowning on him. 

“Oh…” you replied. “Okay.” 

Joel nodded confidently, then remembered quietly to himself,  “Oh.” He took his glasses off the front of his softwash v-neck and put them on, then opened his book. “You won’t even notice I’m here,” he smiled. 

It was a really beautiful room. Warm and cozy, even with the high ceilings. A gorgeous chandelier. The tub was roomy, and the water felt perfect. You stretched out your legs and crossed your ankles. 

Joel kept looking up from his book to check on you, so you started to make conversation. “Is this your bathroom?”

“Yeah,” he answered. “Do you like it?”

“It’s gorgeous,” you gushed. “What’s this do?” Your thumb brushed a crystal knob that was on its own, away from the other part of the faucet. 

“Oh,  you click it down and it waits 30 seconds then fills the tub,” he nodded. “Automatic shut-off” 

“Cool,” you replied.   

“Oh,” he remembered, “Forgot to show ya somethin’ else. Can I–” he pointed at the tub. 

“Sure,” you answered. 

Joel left his book on his chair, and knelt at the side of the tub. He reached down to the little sidecar and turned on the water spigot. He smiled and looked at you until the spigot stopped. “Just if you want,” he explained, and held up a sponge full of suds. 

“Oh, thanks,” you replied. 

He lingered by the tub. 

“If you want, I could even, uh,” he motioned with the sponge toward you. 

Your cheeks warmed…. hmmm. Why not? “Okay,” you agreed.

“Yeah? ”

“Sure.” 

With both knees on the floor, Joel looked at you with a little smile. Then his gaze drifted down to the clear water, and his eyes couldn’t help but linger.

 “What?” you asked, and he realized he was staring. 

“Sorry, uh,” he shook his head at himself. “It’s just—” he looked into your eyes. “You’re a work of art, that’s all.” 

You sank down a little more in the water and smiled shyly. 

“Hey, careful,” he laughed and reached for your arm to not let you go further in. 

He scanned you head to toe again and added, “Most perfect sight I ever seen.” 

“Thanks,” you looked away. “You don’t have to say that.” 

“What?”

“M’not perfect,” you mumbled. 

“Yeah you are,” his face got serious. “Perfect for me,” he insisted, then mumbled to himself,  “s’why you’re here.” 

Afraid he was making you uncomfortable, he looked down at the sponge and said, “Okay,” shifting into his task.  

“K,” you echoed. 

“Can I touch you? ” 

“Yeah,” you agreed. In truth you wanted nothing more. 

—--

You tilted your head up to look at the ceiling, and Joel started at your neck. He brushed his bite marks with the pad of his thumb and it felt like an apology. 

“It’s okay,” you reassured him. 

He gently lathered your neck, then your shoulders. “Wow,” he marveled quietly at the way the suds ran down each curve of your form above the water. He lathered your chest with the sponge. You lifted your arms, putting your hands on the sides of the tub, and he got your underarms. He ran the sponge over your chest again and paused. He took the sponge away and whispered, “God damn,” watching the bubbles flow down between your breasts. 

Turned on by his worship of your body, you rubbed your lips together and looked at him.

“Sorry,” he whispered, “Just gotta, uh,” He showed you the sponge with a nervous chuckle and dipped it into the water sidecar, getting water all over himself. 

He looked down at his wet shirt and you suggested, “You could take it off, if you want.” 

He raised his eyebrows. “Yeah, if you don’t mind,” he read your face. 

You answered low and soft, “I don’t mind,” with a raise of your eyebrows. 

Joel took a deep breath and put the sponge back in the sidecar. “Okay,” he whispered. 

He reached over his back and took his shirt off. You drew in a deep breath through your nose, admiring his strong shoulders and the smattering of soft brown and gray hairs on his chest. He took off his glasses, folded them, and put them aside with his shirt. 

Joel bathed you in silence, lips parted, corners of his mouth glistening. He took his time, and his eyes roved your body. When he got to your inner thigh, you shuddered and got goosebumps everywhere. 

“Sorry,” he whispered. 

You shook your head, “Don’t stop.” 

He glanced at your face with a dark, hungry look, then his eyes settled on your peaked nipples. He tilted his head slightly, and wet his lips. He bit his tongue then slid it across the roof of his mouth and back before shaking himself out of the trance. 

He continued bathing you in silence. He looked so hot, biceps bulging with every movement. His strokes were sensual and hit your skin just right. Your back arched and your eyes closed. 

After finishing with the sponge, he put it back in the sidecar.He brought handfuls of warm water up to your neck and chest to wash away the suds.

He paused the rinsing and broke the silence. His voice was soft and deep:

 “Do you ever think about, uh...” He paused. “If ya might like to—i mean….if I could do anything for ya—not just about blood, I mean–” He took a deep breath. “Guess what I’m tryin’ to say is, I know that’s when we normally do stuff, but we-”

With your eyes still closed, you found his hand and put it on your breast. 

“don’t have to wait,” he whispered, completing his thought. 

“Yeah,” you agreed with your eyes still closed.  

He slowly began to massage your breast, and when he thumbed your hard nipple, you moaned, “mm.” 

“That feel good?” he whispered. 

You nodded and your brow furrowed.

He kept doing what he was doing, and without stopping, he made his way behind your back at the end of the tub. Then, slotting his hands under your arms, he pulled you up in the water a little. He cupped your breasts from behind, and circled his thumbs around your nipples, making you take a deep breath. 

He murmured, “I’d do anything for ya.” 

‘Mmm,” you moaned, and he continued the motions of his thumbs 

“Anything to make ya feel good… and safe”

He covered your breasts with his palms, cupping them, then lightly moved his palms in circles over your nipples.

“Joel,” you whispered, “Mmm,” your back arched. “Don’t stop,” you pleaded. 

He continued with his palms, then slotted both nipples between his spread fingers. 

You moaned, and he lightly dragged his open fingers down your breasts, slow and light, each digit going up and down as it crossed your nipple. He dragged his fingers up again, and then went back to using his palms.

“I’m–” you began. “--mm”

He could see you squirming under the water, pressing your thighs together,  “Shhh,” Joel reassured you. “I know, sugar.” 

He cupped your breasts again, and you reached a wet hand out of the bath and dangled it behind you, groping for his crotch. He pushed his hips forward, and the hard shape in his soft pants met your wet hand. He took a deep breath, and so did you, and he watched your body writhe under his soft touch, until you released the most beautiful moan that echoed through the room. 

“Yeahh,” he cooed into your hair, “that’s it, that’s good.” 

Your body spasmed again, and he wrapped his arms around you as you finished your peak. You leaned your head back against him. He kept one arm around your chest, and cradled your head with the other.With an open mouth, he kissed your cheek slow and soft. 

“Mm,” you sighed.

“How ‘bout we get you dry?” he asked. “Then i’ll warm ya back up.” 

—---

Once you were dry, he carried you to the bedroom and laid you down gently on the smooth sheets, admiring your nude body. The room was dim, and he was still shirtless. He kneeled onto the bed and cautiously moved toward you. His face hovered over yours, and you admired his eyes, lips, and neck. Then you met his eyes, his face drifted closer, and he pressed his lips into yours. You kissed him back, and his pants grazed your bare thigh. 

“Uh,” you shifted under him. “Your pants are kinda wet.”  He looked down at himself, then asked, “Should I…” And you reached for his waistband to help him unbutton.

After discarding his pants on the floor, he was left in boxer briefs and the thick outline in them made your breath hitch. He got between your legs, and brought his face back to yours. 

He kissed you softly, and when you kissed back with hunger, he matched your intensity. Moaning into your mouth, he cradled  your head with his left hand. You slipped him your tongue and he accepted it gratefully. After a minute of kissing, his lips left your mouth and his hand slid down your head to your neck. On the other side of your head, he kissed down your jawline to your neck. He pulled back and studied his bite marks on your flesh, and you reassured him, “it’s okay.” 

Holding your neck gently, his massive hand made you feel small and delicate. His lips lightly brushed the overlapping sets of circular wounds in different stages of bruising. Then his nose brushed your skin. He sniffed around your jugular, down to your collarbone, then back up. His tongue brushed your tender skin lightly, then he pressed a soft kiss into the crook of your neck. 

“You can do it,” you offered. “You can take some.”

“No,” he declined. “That’s okay, sweetheart.” 

“You can, I like it,” you reminded him. 

“I know, I like it too, baby, but—doesn’t have to be every time, right? This is different…” 

“Sure,” you agreed with warmth rising to your cheeks. 

“Other ways I can make ya feel good,” he added. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you smiled. 

“Want ya to feel safe,” he whispered, then kissed your neck again. “Want ya to know I can control myself.” 

You bit your lip, then whispered, “I know you can.” 

Joel’s kisses trailed from the side of your neck down to the dip in the center of your collar bone, where he dipped his tongue, then dragged his lips down your sternum. He cupped one of your breasts and moaned into the other. He licked the nipple, circled it with his tongue, then sucked. He kissed the outer curve of your breast, and the top, and the bottom, before kissing your nipple again. He moved to your other breast and suckled at it, breath getting heavier through his nose. He looked up at you with sparkling  eyes and murmured, “Every inch of you tastes like a dream.” 

You fingered his hair and he nuzzled his head into your touch, briefly closing his eyes.  You pulled him toward you and kissed him again. He laid his chest against yours and it made your skin buzz. 

“You’re warm,” you marveled. 

“I guess it’s you,” he explained. “Only when we’re this close.” 

“It feels good,” you whispered.

He leaned his forehead against yours. “It’s our skin together, sweetheart.” 

“Can I, um. Can I feel more of your skin?” you asked, and slid your toe up the side of his thigh to the edge of his boxer briefs. 

He paused and looked back and forth between your eyes. “Uh, yeah,” he answered. “Of course.” 

He shed his boxer briefs and gently held his cock against his happy trail, making his shaft press into the padding of his lower stomach. “I don’t wanna, uh.” 

“What?”

“Touch ya any way ya don’t want,” he answered. “Might not be what you’re used to, either.” He glanced down at himself. 

You reached toward his crotch and covered his hand with yours. “Can I feel?” you asked. 

He wet his lips and nodded, slipping his hand out from between your palm and his package. 

You palmed him and his cock was warm and stiff. It was commanding and uncut. Your palm gently nudged the smooth skin of his shaft, and he moaned with his eyes closed. 

“It’s so hard,” you gushed just above a whisper.

“That’s you,” he answered, “That’s your blood,” and those words seemed to heighten your lust and his. He gently held your neck again and kissed you on the lips like he needed you bad. You were still holding his stiff manhood, but wanted his body against yours. 

You broke away from his lips wih a moan and whispered, “I need your skin on mine.” 

You moved your hand, dropping his cock onto your mound, making you moan as you used both hands to cradle his head, then carded your fingers in his hair. His cock swelled against your clit and he subtly thrust against you. Your hips lifted to meet his rhythm and your chests heaved against each other. 

“You know how bad I wanna be inside you?” he asked. 

“Mmm,” you answered, “I can feel how bad.” He was throbbing hard against your front. 

“But we gotta trust each other first,” he said with a slow thrust against you. He closed his eyes and dipped his head so his cheek was touching yours. “God, I want it,” he whispered in your ear. “But I gotta earn your trust.” 

You lightly massaged his scalp with your fingertips and said, “I want it, too.” 

“Of course we do,” he said, and kissed you on the lips, long and soft, still slowly grinding on you. Then added, “We’re meant to satisfy each other.” 

He kissed you on the cheek, then the neck, and the forehead, slowly grinding his stiff cock against you, with the heat of his chest on yours. “The way we’ll fit together,” he panted, “like nothing we’ve ever felt.” He brushed your temple with his thumb and kissed you desperately, in rhythm with your bodies moving together. You moaned, and he added, “I’m tellin’ ya, sweetheart. ‘S’gonna be—ohh��celestial,” he breathed, and moaned again. He was leaking precum onto your tummy. “Whole other dimension,” he whispered, then kissed you again. “God damn,” he panted. “I gotta calm down,” he chuckled.

He pulled his hips back and his cock slid down, wet against your clit. He paused to let it rub against your cunt for just a moment before he pulled back more, and kissed his way down your stomach. He kissed the trail of his pre-cum, open-mouth, a sight that made you weak. The closer he got to your mound, he used his tongue more and more. Then he put your legs over his shoulders. 

He stared at your glistening cunt and whispered, “gorgeous,” then he nudged the bridge of his nose into your wetness as he sniffed up your folds. “God,” he whispered, then used his tongue, firmly licking up your cunt then circling your sensitive nub before giving it a long kiss. He licked into every hidden place of your warm, wet pussy and thrust his tongue into you. 

It wasn’t much different than when you had your period, except he started gentle before becoming voracious. He was soon insatiable, and tension was building in your gut. 

“Joel,” you sighed, and he kept going. “Oh, god,” you moaned, “Joel,” your legs curled, prompting him to look up at you with flickering eyes and a shiny face. 

“Sorry,” he exhaled. “It’s—it’s actually plasma,” he explained of your slick. So it was like blood to him in a way.  “God, it’s so good,” he gushed. He dove in for more, licking and sucking and drinking you down. 

When you were teetering right on the edge of bliss, you pleaded, “come back, c’mere,” and he obediently let your legs down. 

He prowled up your body and slid his cock through your folds before laying it hard against your mound. His warm chest and belly laid onto yours, and you groaned and your hips lifted upward. He slowly thrust against you and you began to cum, throbbing against his cock. 

He moaned your name and then, “oh, god,” and began to cum with his cock wedged between the two of you, gluing your bodies together. He sighed vocally, then his lips found yours again, and you kissed through your mutual climax. 

You broke away for air and gushed, “you feel so good,” wrapping your arms around him. 

He chuckled shyly and kissed your neck, then your cheek again, and your forehead. You looked each other in the eyes, and his irises still had a bit of that special shine. He kissed you, and stayed with his skin against yours, then asked, “you okay?” 

You nodded. 

“You okay if I clean up?” he asked, and you answered, “sure.” 

He apologized for the mess as he rolled over onto his back and his cum spread like glue between the two of you. 

You sniffed the air curiously, and he stopped to watch you. As the air of his semen and musk filled your nostrils, a soothing wave moved through your body. 

You asked, “can I, uh,” and dipped your finger into the mess on your tummy. He nodded enthusiastically and watched you bring your finger to your lips. 

You dipped your tongue and your tastebuds were transfixed. You quickly dipped your fingers down to your tummy, gathering as much of the spend as you could, and wrapped your lips around your fingers, closing your eyes and breathing through your nose as you tasted and swallowed it. 

“Good?” he asked

You just barely nodded with your fingers in your mouth and your eyes still shut.

Joel nodded, unsurprised. “‘cause it was made for you,” he said. You got up on your knees and he watched affectionately as you straddled his legs and brought your face to his lower abdomen. 

“Go ahead,” he started to say, but your tongue was already in his happy trail before he got the words out. You licked and slurped it up, and he chuckled, both at the sensation and your eagerness. 

Joel got a warm wet cloth and cleaned you up before cleaning himself and pulling his boxers back on. 

–

You laid together basking in the closeness of each other. You could feel your skin glowing, and his too.  He was face down with his arm over you, and you were really comfortable. 

After a while, he propped himself up to look at you and trailed his fingers down your sternum. 

 “I was, uh, gonna, go get the mail right about now,” he mentioned. “Overcast, just about sunset…” 

“Oh,” your face fell. “Okay.” You tried not to look too disappointed. 

“I was wonderin’ if maybe you wanna come?”

Your face lit up. “Really??”

“It’s just down the driveway,” he clarified. “Long driveway,” he added. 

“Yeah,” you nodded with bright eyes, and sat up. 

“Alright,”  he smiled, and kissed you. 

He went to your closet and brought you an outfit, then left while you used the restroom and got dressed. 

He returned with the leather cuffs, and you gladly handed him your wrist and let him link you together.

For the first time, you were standing right there as Joel opened the big, heavy front door. 

With your fingers interlaced with his, you stepped outside. 

—--

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thank you so much for reading! i really value the affection you all express for him, and hope he's brought some comfort to you. Written with love <333

[visionsofyouandme]

ɪ ᴄᴀɴ ᴄᴜʀᴇ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴅɪꜱᴇᴀꜱᴇ

𝚜𝚢𝚗𝚘𝚙𝚜𝚒𝚜: Joel had been wandering for 100 years. Infected with an insatiable hunger, he finds you and decides he can’t let you go… Not again.

𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝: 5.9k

𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜/𝚝𝚊𝚐𝚜: DDDNE. (𝖲𝖾𝗋𝗂𝗈𝗎𝗌𝗅𝗒, 𝖽𝗈𝗇’𝗍 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝖽𝗈𝗇’𝗍 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽). 𝖭𝗈 𝖮𝗎𝗍𝖻𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗄 𝖠𝖴. 𝖵𝖺𝗆𝗉𝗂𝗋𝖾!𝖩𝗈𝖾𝗅. 𝖽𝖺𝗋𝗄!𝖩𝗈𝖾𝗅. 𝖲𝗍𝖺𝗅𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀. Overly P𝗋𝗈𝗍𝖾𝖼𝗍𝗂𝗏𝖾!Joel. 𝖯𝗈𝗌𝗌𝖾𝗌𝗌𝗂𝗏𝖾𝗇𝖾𝗌𝗌. 𝖠𝗀𝖾 𝗀𝖺𝗉 (𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝗂𝗌 𝗅𝖺𝗍𝖾 20𝗌-𝗅𝖺𝗍𝖾 30𝗌, Joel is late 40s-mid 50s). 𝖺𝖿𝖺𝖻!𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋. 𝖭𝗈 physical 𝖽𝖾𝗌𝖼𝗋𝗂𝗉𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇𝗌 𝗈𝖿 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋 other than she has hair and wears a dress. 𝖩𝗈𝖾𝗅 has a 𝖻𝖺𝖼𝗄𝗌𝗍𝗈𝗋𝗒 (𝗌𝗈𝗋𝗋𝗒). 𝖠𝗅𝖼𝗈𝗁𝗈𝗅 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗌𝗎𝗆𝗉𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇. 𝖲𝖬𝖴𝖳 (+18, 𝖬𝖣𝖭𝖨) 𝖣𝖴𝖡 /𝖭𝖮𝖭𝖢𝖮𝖭 (𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝗂𝗌 𝗌𝗅𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍𝗅𝗒 𝖽𝗋𝗎𝗇𝗄, 𝖺𝗇𝖽 “𝗎𝗇𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝖩𝗈𝖾𝗅’𝗌 𝗌𝗉𝖾𝗅𝗅," 𝖩𝗈𝖾𝗅 𝖽𝗈𝖾𝗌𝗇'𝗍 𝗉𝗎𝗅𝗅 𝗈𝗎𝗍). 𝖥𝗂𝗇𝗀𝖾𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀. 𝖮𝗋𝖺𝗅 (𝖿!𝗋𝖾𝖼𝗂𝖾𝗏𝗂𝗇𝗀). 𝖯𝖾𝗋𝗂𝗈𝖽 𝗌𝖾𝗑. 𝖡𝗅𝗈𝗈𝖽/𝖼𝗎𝗆 𝖾𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀. 𝖡𝗋𝖾𝖾𝖽𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖪𝗂𝗇𝗄 (?). 𝖴𝗇𝗉𝗋𝗈𝗍𝖾𝖼𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝗉 𝗂𝗇 𝗏. 𝖢𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗆𝗉𝗂𝖾. Let me know if I missed any tags!

𝙰/𝙽: Well, you asked, so I delivered. This one is absolutely insane imo. Never wrote anything so dark, but there are worse fics out there for sure. This for all you dark, disgusting vampire lovers as well as lovers of Joel Miller. This is a space to enjoy the depravity that is… well, this fic. And also, shout out to @toxicanonymity for their vampire!joel fics that started this whole ordeal… I blame you wholeheartedly and thank you in the same breath!!! (title from Lady Gaga's song "Disease," which was a huge inspiration for this fic as well!) Enjoy!

Everything filled your senses: the bass booming in your chest, the neon lights flashing above, the smell of sweat and spilled beer surrounding you as you danced and danced and danced.

It had been a good night so far- your friends had invited you out for a girls’ night out, and with it being Friday, you were not going to pass it up. It was a cool October evening, but the club offered plenty of warmth and bodies twisted this way and that to the music. 

You did another dramatic sway of your hips as you danced to the music. Normally you weren’t one to try and impress anyone, but there was a broad figure that you felt had been watching you all night. You could make out a face, dark eyes tracking your movement around the club as you danced around, got drinks at the bar, went to the bathroom to freshen up. You had had a few drinks in your system, feeling a kind of way about the man’s gaze on you. Normally, if you were stone-cold sober, you’d be wary and worried. But, this man? He was… well, something else. Some kind of pressure that felt more like a chokehold, or like a magnet you couldn’t tear away from. A familiarity about him had taken over you, and it only piqued your interest.

You turned your head to look over your shoulder and saw him with his body halfway twisted your way, glass in hand, and his eyes that watched you with a certain hunger to them. He wasn’t trying to hide it, either, his head completely turned your way. You grinned and turned back to your friends, patting one on the shoulder and shouting over the music that you were going to get a drink. Breaking away, you made your way to the bar, intentionally weaving your way in and out, taking the long way to lose him and then come back to the bar to find him right where you left him. You slid into the space between a stool and his occupied one, leaning over to shout your order to the bartender over the music. You could feel his body next to yours, your side brushing his knee that jut out as he sat. You stood back on your heels, and looked at the man. You cocked an eyebrow, assessing him at breakneck speed: older, rugged, devastatingly handsome, and those eyes that just couldn’t tear themselves away from you. And a certain air that you felt you had recognized somewhat, but not completely. Your eyebrows betrayed your expression, tilting your head to the side.

“You look familiar!” you called over the music, and he took a sip of his drink, watching you from over the rim. A smirk tugged at his lips, and his sultry expression never strayed from you, tracking you like a hunter would its prey.

“So do you,” he called back, and set his drink on the counter, extending a hand, “I’m Joel.” 

You looked down at his hand, and wanted to laugh. Oh, so he was a formal kind of guy? Funny. You steeled yourself and nodded, shaking his hand firmly and giving your name back. He nodded, his eyes finally moving away from your face and down your neck, to your chest where your dress showed off your cleavage well. Typical club attire for you, and it seemed to do the job it always did- reel the guys in. You grinned, and searched his face again, eyes moving over his aquiline nose, bearded face, and supple lips that were nearly hiding under a mustache. 

Yeah, he was hot.

And so damn familiar.

Joel had been watching you for a while.

The club was not a place he would frequent on the regular, but he made an exception for you. Turns out it was actually a good feeding ground, with plenty of people to choose from, though intoxicated and under the influence of whatever else they had in their system. Not exactly healthy choices, but easy meals.

He had followed you here tonight after seeing you leave a dive bar with some friends, pretty usual for your Saturday evening. He wasn’t sure where you were going, unable to discern the conversation until you stepped outside of the bar. They excitedly name dropped the club, which you gladly agreed to with a grin. He told himself he would go to be a vigilant watcher, an ever present protector. Nothing more.

He had been exercising that mindset for a few months now. 

He had first seen you at that same bar bar by chance. You didn’t see him, mostly because he wasn’t looking to be seen until he had made his selection for feeding that night. He was immediately taken with you, with the way you threw your head back and laughed, leaning forward as your friend told a story, watching the way you swallowed your beer, the perfect neck soft and smooth for his taking.

He hadn’t seen you in a long time. About 107 years, nearly to the day, to be exact. 

Once, what felt like it could have been lifetimes ago, you two were in love. He was young, still human then, the world was changing rapidly, and had a bright future ahead of him. He met you after fate put you in his path, and it was love at first sight. You were younger, and he had the appeal of being someone older and willing to provide. It took all of 4 months to court you, and you were wed. You both had plans to build a life together: with a home, a family, and grow old together. 

Joel would never get that dream that seemed like a fool’s hope at this point.

The first world war came, and immediately took him to work. When the United States entered the war, he enlisted and told you he would be back. He kissed you that night before leaving, made love to you, and when morning broke, you saw him off on the ship to take him to Europe. It was easily one of the worst days in both of your lives. 

Things fell apart when he was serving in France one day. He remembered the exact day, because it was nearly the end of the war, and he couldn’t think of anything else other than to get back to you. Patrolling one night, he was in the company of a few men when they were attacked by some kind of violent force. All Joel knew was that when he awoke, he was left in the woods covered in gore, lost, confused, and in possession of an insatiable thirst for blood.

He fought the urges. He did. But, he couldn’t stave it off for long, having been surrounded by so much death and opportunity for feeding. He fed, and fed, and fed. The whole time he was longing to get back to you with every rip of flesh, every swallow of sanguine.

By some miracle he made it home, having been able to control his urges enough to get on a ship and sail back to the States. When he got there, you were gone. 

An accident, they said. You and your father had taken a car down a winding road and lost control- your father lived. You did not.

He was in anguish then. He cursed the Lord above, for keeping him away for so long, for taking you and your future away, for making him whatever this was that he had to live with.

So, he wandered. For years and years and years, thinking all was lost. Bullets wouldn’t do the trick, neither did the depths of the ocean. He didn’t know what exactly was keeping him alive at this point, but soon he just learned to survive. Spite, maybe, to the man upstairs made him continue on. Showing Him that Joel could live despite all the pain he’s been put through. 

And when he saw you that night in the bar, everything was turned on its head. When he saw you, his heart and mind recognized you instantly. You looked beautiful, the same- same shade of lovely hair, your colorful eyes shining, the bar casting a shadow on your skin. His instincts kicked in, and he knew he would do anything to protect you. So, he watched. Waited.

He would make sure you got home safely from work. Deter any unsavory men from following you home from the bar. Made sure you turned off your stove and your lights when you left home. 

A little home invasion? Well, what you didn’t know wouldn’t hurt you.

He found himself prowling your apartment on days you worked. He would sit on your couch, browse your music collection, and find out what coffee mug you favored above all others by the way they were used. He liked being in your space- it was the closest thing he felt to home in years. 

He would leave knowing what time you came back from work, waiting to follow you home. He never understood why you walked, especially with the days drawing shorter. He knew you had pepper spray, but he knew that would do little to defend yourself from an adversary. 

One night, he wasn’t the only one watching you. 

A man you had walked past a block ago followed behind you by a few feet, and Joel could see him clearly under the streetlights. The man was trying to be inconspicuous, weaving in and out of the people and keeping a safe distance from your lone figure. When he got too close, Joel knew had to act.

Joel shoved him into an alleyway, knowing you were only two minutes from your apartment. He told himself you could handle that, and get inside safely. 

Without much hesitation, he sunk his teeth into the man’s jugular and ripped. It wasn’t a very noble kill, but what was considered one these days? Draining the man of his lifeforce in the alley, he walked out to see you shut the door behind you as you entered the complex. 

All of that watching and waiting and pining. And here you were, coming up to him.

“You look familiar!”

He smiled at this. Of course you’d remember, even if it was just faint. He never knew he would find his way back to you, not in this lifetime, anyway. 

He was over the moon, and he was determined to make the most of it.

He introduced himself, and your hand was so delicate and balmy within his own. He wanted to laugh, knowing you were blissfully unaware of the fact his own hand had deprived a sleazy ex of yours the air from his lungs. He didn’t kill this one, but left him with a warning- leave you alone, or else he would come to regret it and pay with his life for it. He felt merciful that day.

The way your eyes just watched him with intense curiosity, sparkling with desire and interest, made his stomach flip. He remembered feeling this way the first time he had met you all those years ago- the way you smiled and extended your hand like you did just now. Only you were more subtle then. Softer. 

This version, a more pronounced and audacious one, was exciting. But, he knew you were all the same deep within your soul.

“You know,” you said, cocking an eyebrow. “If you take a picture, it’ll last longer.” you teased, a smirk on your lips and he shook his head, picking up his glass again.

“That obvious, huh?” he chuckled, and you grinned, shrugging as you leaned against the bar.

“I mean, I know I’m a catch, but you seem awfully eager.” you said, and he zeroed in on your face, then body. He could hear the blood rushing in your veins, heart pounding with the bass of the music, smelling the saltiness of your sweat that he could recognize in a sea of others.

“Well, when I see something so beautiful, it’s hard to look away.” he said, and you rolled your eyes but the smile never left your face. He took his drink in hand, downing the rest. Though he couldn’t feel a single thing of the whiskey he had ordered, he had to maintain appearances. You smirked, and glanced around, then back to him.

“Meet me outside?” you questioned, and he raised his eyebrows. Awfully bold of you, he thought, but he shrugged nonchalantly, but the grin on his face was telling. You were so willing to be alone with him, that he would struggle to contain himself. But he would, he had to, if he was going to keep you close. 

“If you’d like.” he said, and you nodded, pushing off the bar with a wink, and sauntered away. His eyes tracked you until he lost you in the sea of people. When the bartender slid the drink to your empty space, Joel gestured for him to put it on his tab, and stood up, closing out.

He knew damn well neither you nor him would be back tonight, not if he could help it.

You were leaning against the front wall of the club outside, the music still booming inside, the heat seeping off of your skin in the cool air of the night. Your bag on your shoulder, you had excused yourself from your friends who seemed hesitant at first, but you assured them you weren’t going to home with him, and had your phone location on. They gave you uneasy smiles, having been aware of the man watching you that night, but they waved you goodbye and made you promise to text when you got home.

Sighing, you closed your eyes and leaned your head against the wall, letting the sweat dry on your forehead and chest. You only hoped he wouldn’t think you were completely gross, but this was a club- anyone who had been inside wouldn’t be in their best state.

A voice called you back to reality by extending your name, and you looked over to see Joel coming out, a silhouette of broad shoulders and curls that you could make out in the streetlamp’s light.

“Hopefully I didn’t disturb you.” he chuckled, coming to your side. You tilted your head up at him. He was taller than you, broader than you, and you could only wonder with a hazy mind what was in store for you. 

“Not at all. I was catching my breath. Dancing is no easy feat.” you laughed, and pushed off the wall. He smiled, and you could get a whiff of his cologne that nearly made your knees buckle. It was strong, stiff, musky, and like a man. It also smelled incredibly familiar. What was it about this man that drew you in? And why did you feel like you already knew him?

“Well, you make it seem easy, sweetheart.” 

You pushed the thoughts from your mind, and took a step closer to him until you were nearly brushing your chest against his sternum. He placed a hand around you, curling around the small of your back. His lips hovered over yours, and you felt your heart hammer in your chest. You could have sworn he was going to kiss you, and you wanted it so bad that it almost hurt. You licked your lower lip in anticipation, your hand coming up to rest on the expanse of his chest.

But, a flash of headlights made him turn his head away, and your eyes fluttered shut in disappointment. You were about to pull him down and kiss him yourself, when he spoke. 

“I believe that’s us,” and your eyes flew open, looking up at him in curiosity and surprise. You were expecting some kind of quickie in the back alley, but definitely not going with him anywhere. You bit your lower lip, and he looked down at you, his other hand moving to push a piece of hair behind your ear. He held your face then, and suddenly all worries melted away.

“Come on.” he said gently, and helped you into the Lyft. You felt weightless, and giddy, but quickly came to when the door shut and the gaze was severed between you. You quickly gave your address to the driver, feeling a slight fear of the idea of going to a strange man’s house. He could be a serial killer, for all you know. At least if he murders you, it’ll be in your own home where people could (hopefully) find you.

Joel climbed in beside you, and had heard you give the driver your address. He reached over and took your hand gently, giving your knuckles a kiss and meeting your eyes. When you looked at him, that nervousness melted away once more. 

The drive was shorter than you expected, or maybe you were just so taken with excitement that you didn’t notice. Making your way inside and to the elevator, that’s when Joel turned to you and you moved your head just in time for him to crash his lips against yours. You turned your body to face him quickly, and felt him back you up against the elevator wall. You made a slight noise of surprise, and he pulled away all too soon as the doors opened when they reached your apartment level on the fourth floor. He took your hand gently, and you led him down the hall, practically dragging him. 

Fumbling with your keys with shaking hands, he stood behind you and looked both ways down the hallway. You finally wrestled the door open, and stepped inside, flipping on the hallway light. You set down your bag on the entryway table, and turned to only have Joel pounce on you like he did in the elevator. The suddenness of it all knocked the wind out of you, and you nearly collapsed into the wall. He held you up with strong arms, and you wrapped your arms around his neck. Your head was spinning, and you let out another sound, but this one of want and desire.

You tasted so goddamn sweet. 

Joel devoured your lips hungrily, sliding his tongue into your mouth without much permission, but you welcomed it eagerly. He held you against the wall, your heart beating so fast that he thought you might burst. His hand moved down your side, sliding over your black dress. It was tight, so form fitting, making every curve pronounced and making him feel absolutely wild. It was like a deep, compartmentalized instinct had surfaced at breakneck speed, and he wanted to feel every inch of you, outside and within. 

He bent down to pull a leg of yours around his waist, your core pressed up against his aching cock that called for you in the confines of his jeans. He ground his hips into yours, the familiarity of it coming back like a repressed memory. He felt a groan lodge in his throat, but stamped it down. He wanted to make you feel good, knowing you hadn’t had anyone in your bed in months (he made sure of that). He wanted to be the final person you let between your legs, determined to make you forget anyone else that was before him. He wanted to absolutely ruin you, make you know that you were his. You may not realize it now, but he would plant that seed in your mind. 

As he felt your heat press against him, he could feel the wetness of you seeping through your thin underwear and onto his pants. He kissed you once more, deeply, his hands wandering down your thighs until his body followed suit. As he was now eye level with your pelvis, he began to raise your dress up your legs, thighs, then hips. His breath caught in his throat as he saw the lacy white of your panties, he swallowed. He knew you weren’t pure like you were when he first met you, but it still stirred something deep within him. 

He glanced up at you to see you looking down at him with heavy lidded eyes, parted swollen lips. He smiled softly, and hooked a finger under your panties and pulled them down to your feet. When you shook them off, he entered a finger within you, finding you absolutely soaked, and heard you moan softly. He had barely touched you and you were responding like a woman starved, deprived, needy. 

Just the way he wanted you.

He added another and moved them in and out, gazing up at you with an alluring look in his eyes. A smile spread on his face when he saw your face twist with pleasure. And that’s when he pulled his fingers back, much to your disappointment, but then let his lips meet your clit with the ghost of a kiss.

Feeling you go rigid beneath him, he held onto one of your thighs and put it over his shoulder, thankful he was undead because the position would have put too much pressure on his knees. He shifted, making it easier for you to relax against the wall and on his body. He licked a long languid stripe up your folds, and could taste how wet you were. You were soaked for him. For him.

God, he was going to go absolutely mad. 

Your moans and the sound of his tongue and mouth pleasuring you filled the small hallway, everything feeling small, confined… intimate. He would have liked to lay you out on a plush bed and eat you out that way, but he knew he couldn’t make it that far. Not when he had you so close now.

He let his tongue slide up and down your folds, licking up your wetness, his nose pressing into your clit and he felt your hand fly to his hair. Your hips moved gently to meet his face, but he stilled you with a hand on your lower stomach. He felt a flinch there, and knew you were close.

He hummed against your pussy, and you whined softly. He stole a glance up and saw your head was pushed back against the wall, upturned to the heavens. He wanted to see you come, but he knew he would have plenty of opportunities in the future. 

The lewd sounds of his tongue continued, and he felt your pelvis twitch under his touch. You were close. 

“Joel- I’m gonna-” you panted, hand holding him tight in his hair.

He began to taste something a bit different on his tongue, but refused to stop. He didn’t want to, absolutely couldn’t, no matter what he did. When he felt you shudder and cry out, hand gripping tight on his hair, he lapped up your spend as it flooded out and something else.

Blood. Mixed with your cum.

You had started your period.

He suddenly was a man gone feral, hand gripping your hip near bruisingly and the other pressing down on your pelvis in an attempt to produce more. He knew if you found out about this, you would be horrified. But, he reveled in it. Tasting you in a way he never had before, in a way he didn’t know he craved. He drank up every bit, swallowing thickly, the scarlet liquid sliding down his throat as well as your come. 

He felt you relax against the wall, and he wiped his mouth of the evidence, licking his palm where it had collected, then his fingers as he gently set your leg straight, letting your dress fall and rose to his feet, his form pressing you against the wall to keep you upright. He raised a hand to touch your cheek, and lifted his head even as your lips chased his own. He wouldn’t ruin this moment because of what had transpired unbeknownst to you.

“Can you go to the bedroom? Take off your clothes for me, hm?” he questioned, needing to buy himself just a second of time. You looked up at him with a pout, and he knew you would want him to do the honors, but you nodded dutifully, and he broke away. He watched you walk as steadily as you could to your room, and he immediately headed to the kitchen. Finding a glass in your cabinet right where he knew it would be, he filled it with water and swallowed until he was sufficiently flushed of your crimson.

He walked to the bedroom and saw you about to take off your bra, and he came up behind you and pulled you against his body. You relaxed into him so compliantly, head leaning back on his shoulder. He reached up and undid your bra himself, still keeping your body pressed against his clothed chest. His hand immediately moved to cup your breast, kneading it lightly and you let out a strained whine. If he knew anything, he knew you were sore, hurting from your time of the month. Everything was working in his favor tonight, and he wasted no time enjoying every second.

He bent his head down and kissed your neck lightly, one hand on your hip while the other fondled you. Your hand moved back and threaded through his hair, and he groaned into your skin. You began to grind against him, and he could hear your blood coursing underneath your pulse point. Just a little bite, that’s all it would take to taste you again. He wondered if you would even notice.

You moved in his arms and turned to him, hands flying to his shirt and began unbuttoning hurriedly. He chuckled, and kept his hands resting on your waist, watching as you struggled to concentrate as you undressed him. His cock jerked in his jeans at the sight, and he moved his hips against yours, and saw your eyebrows flinch with anticipation.

“Good girl. So good f’me.” he murmured as you managed to reach the last button, pushing it off of his shoulders. He pulled his undershirt off, exposing his broad, coarsely-haired chest. Your hands flew to it, moving up the solid expanse of skin, your eyes wide with reverence. 

He put a hand over one of them, and raised it to kiss your fingertips gently. He searched your eyes, so much he was wanting to say. I’ve been waiting for this moment. Waited for you for so long. I found you again. I’m going to make you mine.

But, he settled for leaning down to give you a hard kiss, breathing through his nose harshly as he backed you up to the bed. Pushing you down gently, he reached down to undo his belt buckle but your hands flew to it, looking up at him with doe eyes.

“Let me do it. Please.” you said, your voice soft and wanting. His hands dropped, and a soft smile graced his lips, raising a hand to brush his thumb against your cheek. Taking this as a sign to move forward, you made quick work of pulling the belt off and pushing his pants down his legs. When his achingly hard cock met your eye line, he could see your eyes take it in. He could see you lick your lips at the sight of his stiff member that already leaked liquid from the tip. He nearly came in his pants eating you out, and he knew he wouldn’t last long from being inside you.

“You see? All for you. Drivin’ me crazy. Fuck-”

Countless nights of fisting his cock, thinking of your hand instead of his, your mouth, your wet cunt. Every image would drive him over the edge, making him come hard every. Single. Time. 

He knew he was going to border on life and death, now that you were actually here, in front of him.

You dove in and took him in your mouth in one swift move, causing him to hiss and a hand flying to your hair. You gagged at the sudden fullness, but refused to withdraw. He was slowly ticking off every box of the things he wanted to experience with you. But, there would still be much more to come.

He grit his teeth as your wet mouth took every inch of him, and he was impressed you could do so. He felt his tip hit the back of your throat and heard you make a noise, and he began to pull you away but you latched onto his hips, keeping him close. On your knees in front of him, sucking him off to oblivion, eyes turning up to him with tears brimming, wide with lust. 

He slowly began to thrust into you, but felt that heat and tightness growing in his lower abdomen. As much as he was enjoying this, he finally forced you off and pulled your head to tilt up to him, a small frown on your face.

“Move back. Lay down.” he breathed, the order making your eyes glassy and you did as you were told. He climbed after you, settling his hips between yours. He looked down at you, a hand propping himself up as another reached down to touch your clit gently. Your body jerked, face twisting with overstimulation. He leaned down to kiss your jaw, moving up and down the bone.

“I want you to enjoy this, okay?” he questioned, and you nodded against his lips. He ground his hips into yours, and you sucked in a deep breath, one arm moving around his back as the other flew to the side of his neck. He moved back to kiss your lips, and you slipped your tongue into his mouth that he accepted gladly. Maybe you needed this just as bad as him.

He gave a few more movements of his hips against yours, moving his hand from your clit to his member. 

“Please, Joel. I need- I need you. Inside.” you pleaded quietly, and he nodded, not bothering to look down as he angled himself to your entrance. He knew exactly where it laid, and how much to feed you to make you squirm. 

“I know, sweetheart. I know.” he cooed, and kissed your lips gently before letting the tip slide into the wetness. Lips parting under his mouth, he shifted and your mouth formed into an ‘O’, and gave you another inch. You lifted your hips to meet his, but he anticipated the move and withdrew just a bit, causing you to moan in frustration. Your hand moved from his neck to his hair, gripping him tightly in warning, like if he didn’t give you what you wanted, you would rip it out. 

“Easy. Gotta go slow, don’t wanna hurt ya.” he mumbled, moving up slightly to meet your eyes, watching your reaction as he slid in. Bit by bit. Until finally, he was fully sheathed inside, snug and warm in your tightness, and he could see your face twist between pain and pleasure. Your legs wrapped around his waist, and he began to move slowly, your fingernails digging into his back.

“Shit, Joel… feels so fucking good.” you whined, and he moved his hips a bit faster as you tightened around him. He grinned at your responsiveness, and peppered your neck with kisses as he moved down to your clavicle. Just one tiny, miniscule bite… He just wanted more-

He kissed you hard, deep, and took your bottom lip in his teeth and bit down just a bit. You may have felt a pinch, and you flinched slightly but moaned. The smallest bit of blood seeped out, and he dragged his tongue over the wound. The need and want only increased tenfold, and God, he would not be able to walk away from you after tonight.

His pelvis ground against yours, coarse hair rubbing against your clit and he took his free hand to push your hair back as it attempted to stick to your temple due to sweat. He leaned his forehead against yours, inhaling your scent, your essence, your perfume that was barely discernible. His hips got more erratic, and he was trying to stave himself off, but it was getting harder and harder as you pulsed around him every second.

You captured his lips again, and your legs tightened around him, keeping him flush against you. He moved his hips to brush against your clit once more, and you finally tightened around him hard enough to almost suffocate his cock as your spend coated his cock and his pelvis, leaving a white ring around him.

“That’s it. Good girl… Gonna make you mine. All mine.” he hissed, leaning his head into your neck as the force of his thrusts increased, the bed shifting underneath you two. He chased his high to its peak, and you could feel it. Your legs loosened gently, but his hand flew to your knee and held you there. He wouldn’t let you get away.

“Just- um, just pull o-” you tried to manage but it was too late. His hot come painted your walls with so much force and so heavily that he thought your stomach would swell with it. He kept thrusting, feeling his tip hit your cervix and let his come flood your womb. He missed the feeling so much, the power and pleasure it made him feel. He heard you whine underneath him, and he slowed down, finally lifting his head to give you a kiss, pulling out finally and moved his hand to your cunt.

“I’m sorry…” he said softly, though he was anything but. He could see your face, and how pained it looked, and worried. He moved his hand to cup your face,

“You’re on the pill, right?” he questioned, knowing it was probably a bit too late to ask, but you nodded gently. He nodded in return, and kissed your forehead gently,

“It’ll be okay, you’ll be alright.” he murmured, quiet and assuring and he felt your hand move to his wrist. He thought you would push him away, but you didn’t. He kissed your lips gently, and he could tell your mind was racing a million miles a minute, probably coming down from the high that you two had experienced together. He moved to his side, finally getting up and pulling away. He walked to your bathroom, and found a washcloth to wet and bring it back, wiping you and him down, thankful for the dark setting as he could see some of your blood mixed with yours and his spend on his pelvis and your inner thighs. He could feel you twitch underneath him, and he massaged your thigh gently, tossing it to the side and lay next to you. He pulled you close, and you turned your face to his neck. 

“I won’t let anything happen to you, I promise,” he murmurs into your hair, leaving a kiss there. You sighed, your body resigning itself from the intensity experienced as you began to drift off to sleep.

He stayed awake, promising you and himself, that nothing would befall you. He would be here, keeping you safe, protecting you like he couldn’t do all of those years ago. He wouldn’t abandon you, would never leave you. Not now, not later, never. 

He would have you, no matter what. And he will never, ever let you go.

Hope you all enjoy the depravity... don’t forget to comment/like/reblog💕

[vampirejoel]

ty @justagalwhowrites ♥️

[mermaidgirl30]

✨Crimson Ties Part 2: Forever Mine✨

Vampire! Joel x fem! reader

Part 1

Summary: Joel finally gives in to your desires to be a creature of the night like him, so you can live forever with the love of your life.

Word Count: 3.4k

Rating: Explicit 18+ Only MDNI

Tags: Mentions of blood, vampire! Joel, smut, reader and Joel being in love, switching POV, Joel feeds on reader

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

“Are you sure?” His voice is strained, concerned as he floats above you, palms pressed softly against your shoulders. He’s conflicted, weary knowing that this would be an infinite decision, final.

“Yes,” you breathe, an entire lifetime being grasped by saying that one word.

He clenches his jaw, digs his fingers tighter into the silk sheets, shows his sharp white fangs that threaten to sink down into your jugular vein, but you want that, have asked for it for months. He kept telling you no, kept saying how you’d regret it, how he didn’t want you to become like him. A creature of the night who feeds off blood, off wild animals, off humans. He didn’t want any of that for you, but you did. You wanted it all. You wanted him.

Months and months of asking, pleading, begging had finally paid off. He snapped, cracking all the self restraint he had left for you in two. Giving in, he finally agreed to turn you, just as you asked.

Another sigh as he stares down at you, smoldering eyes penetrating your gaze while his calloused fingers run down your collarbone, sending sparks flying through your bloodstream.

“This is forever, baby. There’s no goin’ back. Once I do this, it’s final. Are you sure you want to be… this?” He points to his flashy teeth, turmoil and disgust swirling through his dark irises, moonlight crashing through his tousled dark curls.

You drag your fingers through his silvery scruff, reminding him how much you love him. Vampire, teeth, and all. He’s yours. He leans into your touch, slightly groans when he slides your hand to his lips and softly kisses the inside of your wrist, giving you the love right back.

“I know, Joel. I want this. I want you. Forever. I don’t want a mortal life if it means I have to leave you alone on earth one day. I don’t want to grow old and watch you stay the same. I don’t want to keep living if it means I can’t truly live a life with you!”

His lips graze the tops of your knuckles, softly gliding down the base of your arm. Kissing the inside of your wrist, your forearm, dragging his plush lips up up up till he’s placing soft kisses against your shoulder.

“So, you wanna live forever with me, s’that right, sweetheart?” he drawls, gliding his lips against your neckline, laying sweet kisses against each cheek, hovering just over the top of your lips as your heart beats in your eardrums fiercely. Your fingers push against his denim button-up, making it drop to the floor as your hands dance across his cold skin.

“Mhm. Forever. Just want you, Joel. My love…” you breathe, smiling at the lovesick glaze in his caramel eyes.

He takes his palm and caresses the side of your cheek, coming closer as his lips trace yours slowly. “Mmm, forever’s an awfully long time. You absolutely positive? You want this life? You want…me?” He traces the tip of his calloused thumb across your bottom lip, so slow, delicate while his eyes flick back and forth from your glossy lips to your wide eyes.

“Want you, Joel. Forever and ever. For eternity,” you whisper while he crowds your body.

He looks down at you, love written all over his starry eyes, and it’s then you know his answer is yes. “Fuck, I love you. God, I love you,” he replies with love all in his deep, gravelly voice.

He crashes his lips down on yours, slowly consuming you whole as your body warms to his strong hold on you. The kiss is slow, passionate, all consuming as you open your mouth and allow him to lick inside. He takes his time, slowly devouring you, consummating the act of eternity.

You push your fingers through his messy curls, hear him groan against the feel of you, pulling against your silky dress until it’s off your shoulders and tossed on the floor in a heap. He dives back in, slowly working his tongue back and forth inside your mouth, sinking deeper and biting your lower lip, his calloused fingers drawing a soft line down your body. One hand caressing your breasts and the other parting your silky, wet folds.

You moan, shuttering his name as he slowly dips down and licks up and down your neckline like he’s ready to feast on you.

He pulls back, lips floating over yours while his irises turn a dark chocolate color. “This is gonna hurt, sweetheart. I need you to relax, though. Jus’ focus on my eyes, my breath. Don’t think about the pain. Think of me, only me. I’m gonna be here through it all. Jus’ listen to my voice, it’ll be over soon, won’t take long. I’m right here, yours. All yours,” he whispers into the shell of your ear, licking along the edge, blowing down the side of your neck as blood rushes through your veins like a raging river.

“I trust you. Just want my forever with you,” you mutter with finality in your tone.

He chuckles softly and smiles while he moves your hair behind your shoulders, aligning your neck just right to where it’s on full display, just waiting to be bitten into by the love of your life. He slides his index finger across your jugular vein, focusing in as his pupils start to expand. He feels the blood pump through your thick veins, licks his bottom lip in anticipation of finally being able to feast on you. You know he’s wanted to ever since he met you, he just had the self restraint to hold back from hurting you because he’d rather drive a stake through his own heart than do anything to harm you.

He dips his head lower, waiting for your approval as you nervously nod your head up and down, your pulse racing a million miles an hour just waiting for that first bite. He drags his lips across your collarbone, and you flinch beneath him, ready for the shooting pain to begin.

“Relax,” he coaxes, taking his left hand and drawing slow strokes up and down your arm, enough to make you not think about what’s coming. “You’re alright. I’m gonna be here through it all. Right here, I’ve got you, sweet girl. Gonna take care of you. Okay?” His eyes flick to yours with tight, knitted brows, just asking for permission.

“Okay, Joel. Go ahead. I’m ready,” you whisper, trying your best to drown out your shaky breaths and skipping beats of your heart.

“Relax,” he reminds you, floating back over to your exposed neck, watching him about to change into the hunter of the night.

He flicks his dark eyes to yours, tips his head back and reveals his glistening white fangs, giving you one more soft look before he tears into your flesh. Your mind runs like a live wire, preparing for the worst of it, but then you look at him and realize you’ll be alright. You’re in Joel’s hands.

“Deep breath now, my love. Eyes on me,” he instructs. Before you can respond, he digs his teeth into your neckline, drawing deeper until he hits your jugular vein, sucking and feeding while your mouth drops wide open and your eyes gloss over.

It feels like you're getting pulled into a deep lull where there’s nothing but the sounds of the blood rushing through your veins and the quiet whimpers that settle over the room. It stings, burns as his fangs nestle into the crook of your neck, feeding on your blood until the tides start to turn you immortal.

You groan again, writhing beneath his weight, but he doesn’t let up. He’s too far gone in the taste of you, and you hope he’ll be able to stop before he sucks it all out of you.

He sinks deeper into the skin of your neck, biting, tasting, devouring your perfect taste. God, he fucking craves your taste. The metallic blood flowing down his throat is delectable, unlike anything he’s never tasted before. How had he held out this long without sinking his teeth into you, without drowning in your very essence? He fears he won’t be able to stop, you’re so intoxicating. You were simply made just for him, a sired bond that couldn’t be separated.

You groan beneath him, quiet whimpers that wash through his foggy hearing. He’s so deep into your flesh, the blood filling his salivating mouth that he almost misses his name being mumbled through your open mouth.

He claws into the flesh of your shoulders, sinks deeper as he tastes you. Rosemary, fresh lilac, a hint of citrus perfume lingering by your gaping neck.

“Joel,” you whine, squirming beneath his strong hold.

He needs to stop, needs to find some self control in his sharp fangs, but he hardly has any. Not for you, not at all. You’re like a fucking drug that runs through his veins night after night. You’re like a shot of heroine that clouds his brain, novocaine that runs thick through every vein in his cold body. You’re the one thing that makes him feel like his heart still beats because you bring him to life again and again and again. The only thing he knows anymore is you.

“Joel…” Your breath falters, words coming out almost muted, pained. He has to fucking stop or else he’ll take it too far, not like he already hasn’t. He should’ve stopped minutes ago, but he was too drunk on the taste of you.

Your face is pale white, eyes rolled back as your body shakes beneath him. “Stop. You’re hurting her,” he thinks to himself, but he stays buried in the very essence of you, lapping you up like you’re the only meal he’s had for months.

“Joel, please…” You beg, slowly slipping from his grasp as he fights to tear his fangs from your silky skin. It’s hard, so fucking hard to get a grip on himself, but he has to. He’d kill himself if he accidentally kills you in the process of turning you.

He tears his fangs from you, watching the slow flow of blood that pools at your neckline. He took it way too far, but what was a vampire to do that was addicted to the smell, the feel, the taste of his lover?

“Fuck,” he growls, scolding himself for letting himself drown in your taste when he should’ve only had one bite, not saturate himself in the metallic crimson of your veins.

He bites into his wrist, opening it just enough to let his dark red blood slowly seep out. Carefully placing it in front of your parted mouth while your pale face threatens to take you under. Fuck. He took it too far.

“Drink,” he demands softly, wide eyes frantic for you to respond. “Jus’ a couple drops. C’mon, baby. You can do it,” he nudges, holding his wrist right against your soft lips.

You carefully wrap a hand around his large wrist, fingers barely grazing against the lingering blood. You look so tired, so fragile underneath his broad body, and he almost hates himself for letting you talk him into bringing you into the darkness with him. But watching you grow old and leave this earth without him was more than he could bear, so this is where he was.

You press your lips around his wrist and suck, eyebrows knit together as you struggle to drink the tinge of him down. You look so tired, so worn down, almost like you want to close your eyes and never wake up, but he won’t allow it. This has to work.

Your head falls back into the plush pillow as your eyes close. The transformation not taking long to kick in to drive. This is the part he hates, the part he remembers so clearly, and he curses himself for having to make you go through it just like he did.

Your forehead is dripping in glistening sweat, your skin pale and clammy, your breathing impossibly fast as you start to tremble and writhe beneath him while quiet whimpers plead from your crimson stained lips.

He can’t stand the sight of you struggling, can’t tolerate you being helpless in grueling pain beneath him while his name trembles off your open lips. He clenches his thighs against your bucking hips and pins your wrists against the silky sheets, holding you down so you won’t hurt yourself in the transformation.

You toss and turn, the screaming wails starting to shatter his eardrums while you fight his strong grasp on your wrists. He looks down at you with furrowed eyebrows, a look of pure torture meeting his dark eyes. He doesn’t want to fucking watch you suffer, and he wishes he could take all the pain away from you. He’d take it all again, the hot flashes, the radiating pain that splits your bones in half, the sharp stabs of pain that permeate through the entire skull, the insatiable hunger that drives the beast within, the blood lust that nearly brought him to his death. He’d do it all again for you, he’d do anything for you.

You writhe and toss beneath him, tearing your long nails into the sheets as you clench your teeth and let out the most gut wrenching scream he’s ever heard come from your lips. He presses further into you, a look of utter torture feeding into his mind. God, he can’t stand this much longer, can’t bear to see you in a twisted ball of mere agony.

Another plea for help and he’s saying soothing words to you, doing anything that’ll help you and himself stay focused. “It’s okay, my love. I’m right here. It’s almost over. I’m here. Focus on my voice. I’ve got you, baby girl. I’ve got you.”

The soothing words seem to do something for you because you open your wide eyes and stare at him, a look of confusion and bewilderment meeting your glowing, cat-like eyes that have a hint of blood red shade to them now. He thinks you say his name for just a second, but then you’re right back to throwing your head back on the stained pillow and fighting to get out of his hold.

“Jus’ hold on for me. Jus’ a few more seconds. It’s almost over. It’s almost…” Suddenly, you still beneath him, unmoving as the transformation takes its place over your entire body. And his eyes go as wide at the full moon that seeps into the satin curtains.

Your hair seems to thicken in the span of seconds, your lips crimson red and plump, your eyelashes longer and more full, your skin flawless and glistening beneath the shimmering moonlight. And when you finally open your eyes his breath gets knocked from his lungs. Big glittering eyes look up at him as you slowly come back to earth, back to your new body, the transformation now finished. You’re now a vampire, just as he is.

He slowly releases his grip from your wrists, watching the soft smile spread across your full lips, the awareness of being immortal finally taking over your senses.

“Joel?” you ask, your beautiful, lilty voice taking over every particle that makes up his being, eyes glazing into yours like a lovesick animal. He’s hopelessly in love with you, and now you’re his equal, his forever.

“Yes, my love. It’s me. I’m right here.” He takes a palm and runs it gently over your flawless skin, brushing the tip of his calloused thumb over your cheek while you wrap your hand loosely over his wrist and smile dreamily up at him. God, you’re so in love with him.

It doesn’t take you long to see the blood splattered across the inside of his wrist, the veins bitten into with crimson pooling in the skin. And you’re so fucking starving just looking at the tainted brush of blood.

He nods his head and holds out his wrist for you. You have to feed, otherwise you’ll go out in the middle of the night and devour the first person that you find standing in your way.

“Go on, drink,” he instructs, stretching his wrist until you clamp your fingers around his forearm and show your sharp fangs, wasting no time and diving right into his skin.

You suck hard, reveling in the taste of the fresh blood, drowning yourself in the new metallic taste that seems to drive every sense of hunger in you. You sink your teeth deeper into his skin, drawing even more blood to your mouth, feasting on the taste of him till he’s wincing from your fangs.

“Easy now. Easy,” he coos while you sink your teeth deeper into his wrist, clamping your hands down firmly on his forearm to get a hold of yourself. You lighten your grip, but still lap the pooling blood from his wrist.

A couple minutes later you unclamp your fangs and lick the blood from your crimson lips, letting your nails slide from his wrist and settle softly on his chest. “There ya go, sweetheart. Did so good for me, my perfect girl,” he praises, running a palm softly over your cheek while he stares into the glowing eternal eyes of the love of his life.

You stare up into his amber eyes and comb your nails through his tousled curls, softening your eyes as you take him in. The man that’s forever yours. Your mate, your forever, your best friend, your equal. He’s yours. Joel Miller is yours.

“You mean I get to spend eternity with you, basking in the moonlight, getting lost in your touch forever?” you ask, your eyes in a lovesick trance as you push a fallen curl from his forehead.

“Mhm. For forever. You’re mine, beautiful. My mate, my love, my infinity,” he purrs, placing a gentle kiss across your forehead.

He lingers down and brushes his lips over yours, hovering just enough to say one last thing before he dives back into you. “You’re all I’ve ever wanted, sweetheart. Someone who saw the worst in me and still wanted me. You were always all that. You didn’t run. You stayed and you showed me what true love really looked like. And I’m so… I’m so in love with you. You’re my constant, my forever. And I am eternally, forever grateful for you. My dearest love.”

A wet tear pricks the corner of your eye, and you pull him down and crash your lips against his, breathing him in like he’s your oxygen, your breath of life. And he is. Joel is what keeps you alive.

“I love you so much, Joel Miller. You’re my favorite part of every night. You’re my home,” you whisper against his mouth.

He crowds your body and buries himself inside you, his hands and his mouth going everywhere. Touching, kissing, nipping against every inch of skin he can get to. He swallows your moans when he plunges his cock deep inside your tight walls, your nails dragging down his broad back when you clench around him and splash your shattering orgasms all over him.

You go all night long, switching positions, his head between your thighs, you down on your knees taking him inside your mouth, you sprawled across his lap, him crowding your body while you writhe beneath him, him pressing you against the wall while he ruts his cock deep inside your spasming walls, until both of you collapse from the intense love making and end in bed with his arms wrapped tightly around you, and you nuzzled deep into his chest.

And just when the sun starts to come up from beneath the clouds, he takes you by the hand and leads you into the shadows where you’ll spend eternity by his side.

The darkness isn’t a bad place, not when you have Joel, not when you get to spend forever with the love of your life. The shadows may take you under, but they’ll never swallow you alive. You’re exactly where you need to be, in Joel’s arms, in your forever midnight skies.

[toxicbrothel]

name change

The boys are meeting. Vampire wants to change his name. He doesn’t like the connotations.

"That word isn't even in the fic," he explains. “They picture some bad, aggressive guy in a cape."

Slasher starts to say something. Night Walks cuts him off. “I get it, man. But I like the name. It’s a nice surprise what a cool trendy guy you are.”

Vampire is pensive. “But with the warnings, it looks so dark.” He lists them, “Kidnapping?? Dubcon by captivity? I sound like a monster.”

“No ya don't,” Raider offers. “Sounds like ya got a happy reader.”

The men murmur in agreement, then Slasher blurts out, “Ya did kidnap her, didn't ya?”

Vampire looks distressed. The heels of his palms come to his temples. "That makes it sound so violent.”

“i thought you chloroformed her and put her in the back of your station wagon with your superstrength,” Slasher says. “And it was badass.”

Vampire takes a deep breath and closes his eyes, then opens them and mutters, “I had to.”

“I know ya did,” Raider says. “But we ain't gonna shake that warning, brother.”

“Yeah, he tried that,” Night Walks recalls. “Wanted it to at least say, for her own good."

[multiversed-daydreamer]

Why Should I Keep Your Secret?

WC: 5k

Pairing: Vampire!Joel Miller x Reader

Summary: The next morning, you're hoping to be convinced it was all a dream. When it isn't, you try to come up with some kind of plan, but Joel won't give you the space you need to process this.

Tags: MDNI, Sexual Tension, Threats of murder, Dom/sub dynamics, Hostage situations.

A/N: Here is part two of my Vampire!Joel series! There will be one more after this at least because I want to write some smut but it didn't happen in this one so... there will definitely be a part 3 with smut. If you'd like to read part 1 click here. Other than that I hope you guys enjoy!

Joel lets you sleep through the night. You wake up the next morning to find him leaning against the far wall looking out the window. You sit up with a soft groan, your muscles a little sore from how long you slept on the stiff cushions. You get to your feet and duck out into the chilly morning to go to the bathroom. You finish up and head back to wash your hands and do your routine morning sweep of the lodge. Nothing comes up and you don’t see any movement through the windows. When you go back to the main room, Joel is serving up another bowl of soup. “Morning, sunshine.” He rumbles, pushing the bowl in your direction.

You’re still not entirely sure what to do about your new situation with Joel. But you nod to him and thank him for the food. You watch to see if he’ll get a bowl for himself, convince you that it was all just a very vivid dream, but instead, he raises an eyebrow at the stew and waits for you to take a bite, leaning on the counter and folding thick, muscular arms over his chest. “Go on, now.” He encourages, watching you intently. You sigh, pulling the bowl close and eating it. It was warm and delicious. Despite being in Jackson for nearly a year, your relationship with food has yet to balance out. You try to eat slowly, but you still finish your bowl in under ten minutes. Joel chuckles, “There’s more if you want, it ain’t gonna disappear on ya.” 

You give him a sheepish grin. “I’m still getting used to the whole ‘there’s enough food’ thing.” You admit. He nods in understanding. 

“I get it. Ellie nearly suffocates herself at every meal still. Do you want more?” He offers. 

You shake your head. “I’ll let it settle. What do we have left to do before we leave?”

Joel looks around, “Most ‘f the list is checked off.” He pushes off the counter and snags your bowl, refilling it. You’re relieved to see he’s going to eat the stew. But instead of grabbing a spoon, he set it back down near you. 

“I said I didn’t want another-”

Joel steps close, trapping you against the counter. “You’ll need it. Will keep ya from getting dizzy after I feed.” 

“You eat it then.” You gesture to the bowl. No, no, Joel most definitely didn’t drink your blood yesterday and then proceeded to tell you that you now belong to him. 

He steps closer and you’re shocked to realize that you’re not really that scared. A little nervous, but you’re not worried he’ll hurt you. Instinctually, you trust Joel. “C’mon now. We talked about this.” He reprimands you gently as he pushes your hair off of your shoulder, curling his arm around your back so he can dip his face into your neck. “About you being mine. About how avoiding this isn’t going to work.” He nuzzles your neck, his beard irritating your skin. You’re going to have red marks from it. His lips brush against your pulse point, his nose pressing into your neck to inhale deeply. “You’ll make a far tastier breakfast than that stew for me.” 

Your pulse spikes but you don’t make any moves to try to stop him. You just grip his shirt and whimper a little when you feel sharp teeth tease your neck. “Atta girl, jus’ relax.” You do your best to do just that, trying to control your breathing as he continues to hover over you. He scrapes what you assume are his fangs over your skin as you try to get a little bit more of a grip on yourself. “You’ll be alright,” he coaxes gently, “Won’t take as much as I did yesterday.” You let those words comfort you. His hands are very gentle and his body pressed against yours felt comfortable. He wraps his arms around your waist and lifts you up on the countertop. You clutch onto his shoulders as he coos softly to you. “It’s alright, just wanna get you off your feet. It’ll be more comfortable for you sitting or lying down than standing.” Your eyes meet his as he spreads your legs and steps between them. His smiling at you, trying his best to keep you at ease and he leans over to nuzzle at your neck again. 

When he does bite down, it’s gentle. One of his hands goes to your hair, tugging it back slowly until you lean your head into his palm. His other hand is wrapped around your back, cradling you to his chest as he drinks. Your hands tighten in his shirt as fight or flight instincts start kicking in. Your legs try to close but are stopped but his hips, and your hands push against his chest a little. But he’s warm and solid, pressing over you, pulling at your neck and your core tightens at the feeling. It’s not terrifying like it was last night. No, having Joel this close sucking on your neck, his hands pressed to your back and head, his body keeping your thighs open has you aroused and you have to bite back a moan. Joel groans, his own cock hardening in his jeans, brushing against your crotch. His thumb strokes your hair as he slowly pulls back, licking at the wounds until they heal and disappear. Once they’re healed, he leans back down. Without biting you, he starts sucking on your neck again. His hands tighten around you for a moment as he most certainly leaves a very dark bruise on your neck. You do fight this, more out of surprise than actual fear though. 

“Joel! What the fuck?” You push on his chest to try to get him to talk to you. When he pulls back, a lewd smacking sound echoes from where his lips separate from your skin. He smirks. 

“Want all those little boys in Jackson to know you’re no longer available.” Joel hums, brushing his thumb against the mark. You blink. 

“I’m not…” You trail off, blinking up at him for a moment. It occurs to you then that ‘claimed human’ might mean more than just for feeding purposes. “Right.” You decide to process it later, when you’re alone and have access to booze. 

You shift on the counter, getting a thorough reminder that the crotch of your underwear is wet due to Joel’s actions. You blush as he reaches over and hands you the bowl of soup. You hold it in your hands but just stare at it, not making any moves to eat. Joel plucks the spoon from the bowl and scoops a bite onto it before lifting it to your mouth. The move stuns you into action, you lift your hand, grabbing his wrist as you accept the bite. You grab the spoon and slowly eat the bowl. Joel hums, his hands landing on your thighs, staying between them as you consume the soup far slower than you’ve consumed most of your meals in years.

Once you’ve finished, Joel takes the bowl and finally steps back, going to wash it out before placing it on a drying rack. He helps you off the counter and sets you on your feet, hovering for a few moments until you are sure you are steady on your feet. “I’m alright.” You assure. Despite the fucked up circumstance, Joel was being absurdly gentlemanly about it and you’re kind of adoring him for it. “Thank you.” You murmur as you head for the door, ready to leave the strange night and even stranger morning behind you. 

Joel opens the door for you and closes it after himself. As you make your way to where you’ve kept your horses for the night, his hand lands on your lower back. “You’re doing good. Don’t fret too much.” He says. You honestly have no clue how to respond to that. ‘Don’t fret’? What kind of advice is that when he just drank your blood like a human mosquito? 

~

You ride in silence, and you’re grateful for a chance to process what’s happened between you and your patrol partner over the past twelve hours. Last night you had been way more scared, way more ready to do just about anything to never interact with Joel Miller ever again. You had woken up with that same mindset until he had cornered you against the counter. Something about him being so close had comforted you, soothed you. You had no issue with Joel being so near to you despite what had happened last night… You had even gotten aroused by his proximity. 

You should probably tell Tommy and Maria, though, right? Like, that’s the responsible thing to do, right? But he was so gentle this morning. Joel has always been courteous, not necessarily open and inviting, but friendly. Charming enough to get by with a pretty smile and a polite, hard-working attitude. Outside of patrol, you and Joel don’t really interact. You nod politely to each other in passing but that's about it. 

In all honesty, you would have never suspected his secret had he not bitten you yesterday. He seemed as human as can be, with tanned skin, a gruff attitude, and a beautiful smile that only seemed to come out when his kid was around him. You watch him discreetly, watching his body sway back and forth with his horse's movements. You wonder how he deals with being around Ellie all day and night. Is he… you shake your head. The thought of Joel potentially using Ellie as a food source has you sick to your stomach.

“If ya got questions, all ya gotta do is ask ‘em.” Joel finally says. He must’ve seen you staring.

“How do you live with Ellie without…” You trail off, mentioning his kid had gotten your life threatened last night. Joel’s jaw clenched and you look straight ahead, worried you’ve crossed another line with him. 

“Kids are different. I’ve never struggled to be around them as much. I’m not entirely sure why it works that way, but I ain’t chompin’ down on any rugrats, mine or others.” You nod, grateful at least that the girl is safe. 

“Any theories on why it’s different for kids versus adults?” You ask, curiosity getting the better of you. 

Joel shrugs. “No idea, but I’m glad for it. Feeding is weird with a claimed human. I kill those I feed from for a reason.” The only other claimed human he had was Tess, and it had made sense at the time due to the fact that they were already together. Tess had helped a lot in figuring out his self-control around others after he turned. Kind enough to help him out, but firm enough to make sure he wouldn’t hurt her. He’s forever grateful for his time with Tess. 

“Weird how?” You ask, figuring you should probably know how this affects him. 

Joel looks over at you and raises an eyebrow, an amused twinkle in his eye. “C’mon now, you know how, felt it this mornin’ didn’t ya?” 

You blush as you remember feeling him hard between your legs. “Oh. Does that happen every time you feed?” 

He chuckles and shakes his head. “Not every time. Drugs, alcohol, the food you eat, and your hygiene all affect how your blood tastes. That bullshit about how vampires will drink all blood offered in humans are just myths. One time early after I turned, I found a few junkies in an abandoned building in the QZ. It’s harder to handle the thirst for the first year after changing simply because you’re getting used to it all. I figured snagging someone nobody would miss would help out with not accidentally draining my partner dry. One taste of that junkie had me convinced he had radioactive blood. Fuckin’ disgusting. Raiders ain’t much better. Maybe it was different before the Outbreak,” He shakes his head. “It’s like eating what you have to because you need nutrients but you don’t like the taste.” He looks over to you. “You’re the first I’ve fed from and actually genuinely enjoyed outside of ‘I need to actually eat 'cause I have a human kid I need to take care of’ in about a year. Before Ellie.” 

You take all of this in silently, not really sure what to say. You process the information. It’s certainly fascinating to know about, but it’s also a lot of personal details from Joel that you don’t think you want despite asking for them. One detail does stick out to you though. “You had a partner?” You wince, why are you asking questions?

Joel nods, but there’s a very deliberate stoicism on his face, he doesn’t talk much about Tess. “Yeah.” He says, but he refuses to elaborate. He can’t, not yet. It’s too soon. 

You nod and fall silent. You’re still an hour out from Jackson and you’re honestly content to let it ride out in silence until you make it back. Then you can huddle yourself away in your living room and figure out what to do about Joel. Or maybe you’ll huddle away in Maria’s living room and just tell her Joel decided to make you a convenient snack for himself. You feel Joel occasionally watch you out of the corner of his eye but he remains silent. If he can read your thoughts, he’s being very calm about the fact that you’re debating on going straight to Maria. Who are you kidding? Debating? No, you were going straight to Maria, end of story. 

~

You breathe a relieved sigh as you enter the walls of Jackson, hearing the gate shut behind you as you and Joel turn to the stables to dismount and take care of your horses. You guide your horse inside and unbuckle the saddle and brindle. You stroke her nose and tell her she did a good job. Joel lifts the saddle off of your horse for you and you thank him as he sets it against the wall where it goes. You brush your mare's mane and feed her a few carrots before guiding her back into her stable to rest. Someone will come by later to let her out to graze. You check to make sure she has fresh water and put some hay into her feed corral before closing the gate. 

You turn to leave and find Joel leaning up against the wall, watching you with his arms crossed. You pause and you both raise your eyebrows at each other. “What?” You ask. 

“We ain’t done talkin’.” He responds, pushing off the wall and jerking his head toward the door. “C’mon, I’ll walk ya home.” 

“I was going to Maria’s, actually.” You say in a burst of bravery. You don’t want to be alone with Joel again. Not now that you have an excuse to not be. 

His jaw ticks at that, and he steps closer to you, reaching out to curl his fingers around your bicep. He’s taking care to be gentle but he’s firm in his movements as he pulls you to his chest, his free hand reaching up to cup your chin in his palm, guiding your gaze to his. “I know. But we got a little sidetracked on our talk earlier and we need to finish it. ‘Sides, I told ya, y’ain’t tellin’ nobody, so I dunno what you need to go to Maria’s for.” With that, he steps back and pulls you toward the door. Once you’re walking willingly, he drops the hand on your arm to rest on your back. 

“Could you at least be a little less obvious?” You grumble, tensing under his hand and feeling trapped next to him. The chuckle he gives in response just pisses you off even more. 

“Nah. Want ‘em to see ya with me. That way everyone knows who gave you that pretty mark.” His eyes dart to the bruise on your neck. Fuck, you’d forgotten he did that. 

Your hands fly up to cover the hickey. “Damn it, Joel! The fuck’s wrong with you, man?” 

He laughs as he guides you through town and toward the street you live down. “I reckon a whole lot, dependin’ on who ya ask.” He teases. 

His jovial mood has you on edge. Joel isn’t what you consider a happy guy. He knows how to be polite enough to get by, but walking you home and laughing at how you bitch at him under your breath certainly isn’t in character for him. 

“People are gonna think we slept together or something.” You continue with your lecture, glaring at your porch as it comes into view. 

“Well, I suppose so. That was kinda the point, Darlin.’ ‘Sides, we’ll probably get there quicker than you think.” 

Your eyes snap to his face in surprise. “Well, aren’t you a bold one, Miller.” 

He shrugs as he follows you up the steps of your house, stepping up against your back as you fumble for your keys. “Don’t act innocent. You got so wet when I fed from you this morning.”  He noses at your neck, inhaling your scent as your door clicks and opens under your hands.

You blush, flustered by his words and the feeling of him against you. Your arousal from earlier twitches between your legs curiously. You get through the door and shrug Joel off of you. “Get off me, Joel.”

You get about two steps away before Joel is hauling you back into his chest and kicking your door closed with a slam. He turns and pushes you into the door, pinning you there with a growl. “Watch yourself,” he says lowly. You huff at the threat but mutter an apology as you twist around to face him. The second you do, his hand is curling loosely around your throat and he pushing you firmly into the door. You watch him, waiting for something, but he doesn’t make any moves, leaving you both staring each other down. Then, he smirks and eyes you ravenously. “You’re wet again, Darlin’.” 

You glare at him, reaching up to push him off. “I’m not telling people we’re screwing on the down low because you broke Tommy’s rules.” 

“Yes, you will.” He murmurs, his free hand captures one of your wrists and he pins it beside your head. “You’re gonna do as you’re told and when we’re out and about, we’re gonna be just another happy couple in Jackson.” He lowers his head and his voice as he continues. ‘Because if people find out, and they disrupt Ellie's lifestyle here, I’ll fuckin’ kill you and everyone you run to. So behave yourself. You know I’m not a patient man.” 

You lower your eyes at that. You don’t want to disrupt Ellie’s life here, and you don’t want people's life on the line because you disobeyed Joel, but goddamn, you shouldn’t have to obey Joel just because he broke his promise to Tommy. “Isn’t there some way to reverse the claim or something?” You try not to sound whiney when you say it but it’s all feeling like it’s hitting at once and you kind of hate Joel for putting you in this situation at all. 

Joel sighs, finally backing off and taking a few steps back to give you some space. Your hand goes to your throat as he watches you, thinking about something, maybe how to best answer you.

“No.” He says finally. The way he says it is final, like it should end the discussion, but you want to push. “Perhaps if you were just passing through, if I had let you live and walked away, it would’ve been different. But we live in the same town, we see each other in passing multiple times a day, and we’re patrol partners. We spend a couple of nights a week side by side for twelve hours straight.” You shake your head, there are ways you both could eliminate a lot of that contact. 

“So we switch patrol, that removes the bulk of our interactions.” You offer, thinking it makes sense in the long run. Joel shakes his head, stepping toward you again like he can’t help but need to be close. 

“When we claim a human, a bond is formed. It’s why I kill when I feed. We get possessive and overbearing. The way it was explained to me is that if you drink from someone who isn’t a complete stranger you’ll never see again, you end up becoming attached to that person, like tasting their blood and leaving them alive suddenly makes them your number one target when you're thirsty again because you already know what they taste like and you see them around often. It makes you a literal walking target to me. If you really wanted to break this bond, one of us would have to leave Jackson entirely.”  You could never ask that of him when he has a kid to care for still. But the idea of leaving the sanctuary you found here seems like an impossible task. You don’t have any family here or anything but you’ve found a family within the walls of Jackson and the idea of leaving that makes emotion tighten your throat. “Or…” Joel continues, taking another step closer, gently tilting your chin up with his index finger. “We can try to make this work. Civilly.”  He coaxes softly. You reel at how he can go from making death threats to gently coaxing you with a soft touch and hopeful eyes. What the fuck?

“Joel…” You hesitate, what is even your argument here? You’d rather leave than deal with this? That’s ridiculous. Would you rather risk death and tell someone the truth and potentially leave Joel and his 15-year-old homeless? No. Do you try to make this work in a civil manner? You sigh. 

“You’re not leaving just to avoid this. I swear to God if you even try it, I’ll come after you and drag your ass back.” Joel growled, seemingly knowing where your mind was at presently.

“What was the point of offering that option if you’d just bring me back?”

He sighs. “It wasn’t an option, dumbass. Y’ain’t leaving, and there ain’t a way to break this bond. We make it work. That’s our option.” He says sternly, his grip tightening just a bit on your jaw. He pulls you against his chest, brushing your hair back from your eyes. “C’mon, I ain’t that bad, Darlin’. Just need a little cooperation.” His voice is sweet and coaxing, and it terrifies you. It speaks to the predator he really is that he’s threatened you in numerous different ways and the gentle lull of his voice still makes you consider this. 

“Fine, but we’re not telling everybody we’re a couple. This stays between us. If you don’t want me telling anybody, then we don’t tell anyone at all.” You say. 

Joel watches you for a moment before chuckling. “You don’t get a say. You’re my human and I’ll decide how much others know.” He pauses, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. “This bond will grow stronger the more I feed. The more I touch you, the closer we get. Everything we do with one another will strengthen this bond, even this argument.” He gestures between you guys. “I already told you, it makes us possessive, that’s why I left the mark. I want people to know you’re mine. I want everyone else to think of me when they hear your name.” He gives you a look that has you swallowing, you have a feeling the hunger on his face has nothing to do with blood. 

“A fake relationship?” You scoff at the idea, it was all so juvenile.

Joel shakes his head. “Not fake, just more… acceptable than this.” 

“What is this? I mean I’m yours and you’re… what just my vampire dude?” You shift to lean against the wall. Joel watches you silently, eyes tracking your every movement like a hawk. He scoffs at your words though. 

“Vampire dude? That’s the best you got?” He shakes his head, he leans down so his nose brushes against yours. “The technical term would be Master. I am your vampire master.” He says it in a taunting tone like he’s got you in check-mate with those words. You actually laugh, was he serious? You look over his shoulder, half expecting Tommy and Ellie to jump out at you guys and yell ‘Sike! Happy Halloween!’ No one does, though and you’re forced to process Joel’s words. 

“Is this some fucked up Halloween prank? Like, I know Dracula was playing a few nights ago, but come on, Joel.” Desperate to have Joel tell you that, while, yes, he is a vampire, he’ll just leave you alone as long as you don’t tell Tommy he slipped up. 

His eyes bore into yours before he lowered them, one of his hands reaching out to curl around one of yours. “Look, I know I’m puttin’ you in a fucked up position here, but I can’t jus’…” He trails off, looking away and grinding his jaw. “I can’t just leave you alone. You’re so sweet and,” he sighs pushing your hair away from your neck so he can lean down and inhale deeply against your neck. “Y’smell so good for me, Darlin’. Can’t leave ya if I tried. I’d lose my goddamn mind if someone tried to touch you.” He drops your hand to curl strong arms around you, pulling you flush to his body as buries his face into your shoulder. “Y’already mine. Others ain’t fuckin’ touchin’ ya.” He’s practically rambling at this point, crushing you to his chest as he mutters possessive words into your skin. You finally nod.

“Alright, Joel. I got it. I get it. I won’t…” You groan hating yourself just a little for letting him win. “I won’t tell Maria.” You finally say, and you mean it this time. You and Joel will figure it out. 

Joel looks up, dark brown eyes watching you carefully, “And?” He eggs for more. 

“And what?” 

“You gonna be feisty and keep fightin’ me on every little thing?” He questions. 

You sigh, you thought you were taking this entire thing in stride if you were completely honest. “No.” You grit out angrily. You clench your jaw and look at your couch. “Now will you leave?” You ask annoyed. Joel huffs and tips your head back to his with his hand. A small, amused smile plays over his lips. “You’re not very well-behaved, ya know. Master might just have to punish you.” You laugh at that, the words sound completely ridiculous. 

“Give me twenty-four hours to process this… alone. And then I’ll come back with a better attitude, or try to.” You look up at him, hoping Joel will recognize that you need some space. 

He sighs and steps back from you. “I’ll give you ten hours. I’m coming back tonight to feed, and make sure you get enough to eat yourself.” You have to admit, you’re a little offended Joel doesn’t think you know how to take care of yourself. 

“I can feed myself just fine. And you just fed this morning, and last night, just take the night off and come back tomorrow.” 

He shakes his head with an exasperated huff. “You just said you weren’t going to be feisty, and yet here you are refusing to cooperate again.” 

“I just some time to wrap my head around this.”

“And give you enough space to try something stupid? No, I don’t think so.” Joel counters. 

“I don’t need a fucking babysitter, Joel.” 

“You’re mine, I’ll decide when I want ya and when I don’t.” His hands move to tangle tightly in your hair, pulling your head back so your chest arches into his. “I’ll give you today to drop this fuckin’ attitude. If you decide to be like this tonight, we’re gonna have problems, little girl. Got it?”

“Yes.” You whisper back to him, eyes shining with fearful tears. He’s big and strong and fucking terrifying up close. 

His grip on your hair tightens, his mouth curling up in a snarl. “Yes, what?” He growls out.

You clamp your mouth shut, as submissive as you can be, you can’t call him master. He’s out of his fucking mind if he thinks- he yanks on your hair again, a growl leaving him. “Yes, I understand. Joel, please. I’m sorry.” 

You can’t do it. You just can’t. He seems somewhat pleased with your response, though because he pulls back again, stepping away from you with a small nod. “You continue not cooperating, I will make you call me Master until you get it through that stubborn brain of yours that I fucking mean it when I say you belong to me. For your sake, I suggest you figure out how to submit.” 

You nod, cowering from him, tears streaming silently down your face. Joel sighs, cupping your face in his hands and wiping away your tears with his thumb. You let out a whimper, trying to push his hands away, worried he’d hurt you again. “Shhh. Just cooperate, Darlin’. It’ll be a lot better once you get used to this, I promise.” He presses his forehead against yours, stroking your cheeks with his thumb, shushing you softly. “It’ll get better, I promise.” He leans forward and kisses you. Your hands curl around his wrists as his mouth moves against yours. The kiss lasts for close to a full minute before Joel finally pulls back, that hungry gleam sparkling in his eyes. “I’ll see ya later, baby.” Then he’s opening the front door next to you and walking through it, closing it behind him. You’re left wondering what the fuck just happened, as your knees give out and you slide to the floor. The feeling of Joel’s mouth against yours leaves your lips tingling. Fuck… You liked it.

~

A/N: Thank you so much for reading! Please let me know what you guys think! If you're interested in more of my writing, feel free to check out my Masterlist. Have a good one, y'all! :)

[darkerthanblack-666]

[not-a-unique-snowflake-blog]

I had to do it when I saw the photo🥵🩸🩸🩸

[noxturnalnymph]

@vampirejoel Oops, I must have tagged you by accident. Let me delete, I hope I don't accidentally hit post instead....

[colmiillo]

"I notice i start getting nauseous in the morning and my period is a week late"

Girl i need to fantasies with a hot man that i don't have a chance on, not with a baby,please kill that thing

[toxicanonymity]

Let me stay awake.

7.2k, vampy!Joel x f!reader | vampire masterlist | playlist SUMMARY: Joel tries to take better care of you and plans a date night in. Next time he takes your blood, it feels amazing. WARNINGS: I8+, big girthy age gap (440s to 20s-50s), reader is in captivity, angst, hurt/comfort, dark fluff, POV alternates (twice?), a lot of character dev in the first half, a former blood donor joins the cast, chains, shackles, ankle collar, dry humping, groping, perfectly timed ejaculation. Captivity dubcon. SERIES IMMERSABILITY: Reader can menstruate, be lifted by vampire Joel, and has no allergies.

After Joel took your period, you told him he was doing a bad job taking care of you, which was true. But he did a good job at something. You slept like a baby. He was back with when you woke up. Now he’s sitting next to you on the mattress, back against the wall. Against his thighs, he’s holding a pen on top of a book that looks ancient.  He adjusts his glasses and opens the book. The pages are blank, discolored, and thick. Some have been ripped out. He takes the cap off his pen and asks, “What’d ya have at your old house that we don't have here?” then rests his hand on the page to write. His hand dwarfs the page, and you feel a surge of desire recalling his sounds of pleasure. No, you don’t want him, you tell yourself, as if you didn’t fantasize about him on your way to sleep.

“Freedom,” you answer, and he winces. 

He closes the journal with the pen keeping it partly open, then he turns toward you. “If ya just gimme a chance, sweetheart. . . I'm really gonna do my best. . .” 

When you stay quiet, he says, “Ya know. I think one day, we’ll get there.” 

“Get where?” 

“Outside, out in the world together.”

“Really?” 

He nods. “That walk we took was nice, right?”

“What walk?”

“Through the alley, that first night, when I walked ya to your car?” Right. . .what a gentleman. 

“Yeah, I guess.” Now your mind is drifting back to the way he gently pushed you against the brick wall to kiss you on that walk. Did he already know what he was going to do to you when he first pressed himself against you? 

His eyes are earnest.  “It can be like that again,” he nods.  “Just need a little time.”

You nod. 

He clears his throat, opens the journal, and picks up his pen. “So what do you need?” 

Your stomach twists. Answering would feel like resigning yourself to some dark fate. “I'm not gonna help you keep me prisoner,” you mumble. 

“Prisoner?” He dips his head and his brow furrows. “God, no,” he softly reassures you. He reads your face, then stares into the mattress and swallows.

You rephrase, “Well I’m not gonna help you keep me.” 

He looks you over with pleading eyes.  “I'm gonna go out for a while, okay? Can I get ya anything?”

There are things you need, but you still can’t bring yourself to acknowledge you’re there for the long haul. So you shake your head no. He goes to get the chain from the floor.

“Hate doin’ this,” he mumbles. “‘s’just for now.” He drags the chain over and lifts the sheet to expose your feet. He sees the scrapes and irritation on your ankle. “Shit,” he shakes his head at himself. “Hold on, sweetheart,” he mutters. “Stupid,” he mumbles at himself as he gets up.  He goes upstairs and takes the tray from breakfast with him.  He returns with the same tray. It’s holding a pair of his own wool socks in a fair isle pattern, a paper bag, and a translucent teal bottle full of water. “Lunch,” he says as he sets the tray down next to you. He puts the socks on you, and they're toasty. Then, he puts the cuff on over the sock. “Little better?”

“A little,” you answer. 

“Good,” he whispers. 

— JOEL —

He’s gotta do something about that chain. He’s about to lay down on the sofa to think, but when he moves a decorative pillow out of the way, he feels a rush of shame. “Oh my god,” he whispers. He’s so stupid. How did he not think to give you a pillow? He goes straight to a guest bedroom. The tall, oak door creaks as he opens it. The light from the window nearly blinds him. He blocks it with his forearm as he hurries over to close the heavy curtains.  He sneezes. He picks up an old pillow off the bed and fluffs it. Dust swarms around. There's no way he's giving you that. This whole room has a sad vibe. But he could make you a different room, maybe. His wheels start turning as he goes back downstairs - he has ideas for what room he could use, and what he could do with it. 

He says your name as he descends the final steps. “I'm so sorry, I wasn't thinking,” he apologizes as he crosses the room.  He hands you the pillow and assures you he'll get a better one. Then he goes back upstairs.

After a little research, he packs a leather, cross-body bag and checks the weather. “Damnit,” he grumbles to himself.  Cool but no cloud cover. If it were another sunny day, he’d stay home, but this is too important. He puts on a scarf and grabs his parasol from the coat closet and tucks it under his arm as he pulls on his gloves. He’d rather endure the strange looks than come home without the energy to take care of you. 

-

-

Joel’s first stop is an erotic boutique. It's been a long time since he was anywhere like this. The mannequins in mesh bodysuits and strappy leather catch his eye on the way in, and he almost forgets what he came for. He can't help but imagine you wearing some of these things, but he'd rather just see you naked. 

He slowly makes his way through the store. Should he get you a toy? It seems like sexual health would be a basic need. No, he decides. It might make you uncomfortable. He doesn't want to assume, and doesn't want to invade your privacy. Plus, he has to be careful. He doesn’t want you to think this is all just to get him off. He knows how it feels to be fetishized.

“Can I help you?” Someone asks. Joel turns around and squints through his transition lenses at the worker’s face, then their name tag. Craig.  Where does Joel know him from?  Joel stays home a lot, but not as much as one might think. He needs some kind of social contact. 

Craig interrupts Joel’s thoughts, “You’re the one with the mansion, right?”

Joel chuckles. “Uhh, I dunno if–”

“Oh, sorry,” Craig  holds his hand up. “Ya know what? I must be thinking of someone else.” His lie is an unconvincing attempt to allow Joel his anonymity after the slip-up. He probably thinks Joel is in disguise. 

“No, no, it’s okay, man. I was just gonna say. I wouldn’t call it a. . . mansion,” Joel feels stupid as he finishes the sentence. 

“Okay,” Craig concedes with a playful eye roll.  “The house with the Christmas party” 

Oh, God. Joel hadn't even thought about his party. It's gotta be small this year, if it happens. Maybe it would be nice. Joel pictures you in a fancy dress sitting next to him at the table. He imagines having someone to kiss at midnight. 

“New year’s, “ Joel corrects him and sticks out his hand. “Joel.” 

“Right, right.” Craig shakes Joel’s hand and asks, “Friend of the Fishers, right?” 

Joel snaps his finger, “Yes! Right. You're in David's choir.” Another thing Joel forgot. His life has revolved around you ever since you stepped into it.  You're all he thinks about.  Joel starts to apologize, “Look, I dunno if I'm gonna make the Christmas concert this year, it snuck up on me.”

“It's okay, it's okay,” Craig reassures him with a wave of his hand. “Can I help ya find anything?” 

“Yeah, uh, it said online y’all have some cuffs and chains and stuff?”

“Oh yeah,” Craig nods. “Come with me.” He guides Joel to a back wall covered in all sorts of contraptions. “Looking for anything in particular?” 

“Yeah, something really comfortable and secure.”

–

As Craig rings up Joel’s purchase, Joel silently worries if this is going to work. 

“Want me to show ya how the lock works?” Craig asks. 

 “Uhh, sure,” Joel says. 

Craig takes the leather cuff out of the package and demonstrates the metal lock. He dangles the two keys. “One for you, and one for them,” he smiles. 

“And both cuffs have the same key?”

“Yep,” Craig nods. 

The cuff seems comfortable–the inside is suede and there's metal over the leather-–but Joel wonders if it's secure enough. What if you get away and he never sees you again? He looks at the metal loop on the cuff.

“Hey,” Joel asks and scratches his neck. “Y’all don't have any, uh, ID tags or anything do ya?”

“ID tags?” 

“Like the little metal ones that hang on a loop.”

“Ohhh, like for a collar.” Craig raises his eyebrows. 

“Or for this?” Joel asks, holding up a cuff. 

“Cool,” Craig nods as if Joel is an innovator.  “Gimme one sec.” 

Craig goes out to a nearby shelf and comes back with a few collars that have their own tag – mostly hearts, either blank or with something generic like princess. “This is all we got.”

“Y’all do engraving here?” Joel asks. 

“No. . .But if ya only need the tag, and it's gotta be engraved, I can tell ya where to go.”

–

When Joel is done with his next stop, he opens his leather bag and slips the metal tag into a zippered pocket. Damn, he thinks.  He doesn't even know your favorite color. He hopes you’re okay with a black heart. Certainly better than a bone shape. He starts his car and heads toward the library. 

-

When Joel walks into the library, he politely nods at the information desk, then heads to the computers. He sits down at one in the back row. He takes his gloves off, pulls his journal and a pen out of his bag, then logs onto the computer. He searches the catalog and the internet. What do you need? Food, water, shelter, this all seems obvious. What do you want? Freedom, he can hear you saying it. How much can he give you? How can he make you stay? How can he make you understand how much he cares? He retrieves a book and opens his journal to make some notes.

-

Joel puts down his pen, looks over his notes, then takes off his glasses, and rubs his eyes. He wishes you’d talk to him. What do you really want? 

He whispers your name out loud. “God I wanna make you happy.” He closes his eyes and rubs his temples. He has a headache. The sun is catching up with him. He shouldn’t have gone out today. He should go home. When he opens his eyes, he puts his glasses back on. Someone is approaching. He swiftly locks the computer screen and closes his notebook. 

“Joel.” It’s a kind, grandmotherly voice.

“Carol,” Joel smiles, and leans back as casually as he can. 

“You alright there?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” Joel nods, trying not to wince. She looks at the empty computer screen and closed notebook. 

“Okay, well, you know where to find me, dear.” 

“Great sweater, by the way,” Joel tells her. “Perfect color. Really makes your eyes pop.”  

“Oh, Joel,” she coyly pats down her white curls. “Thank you, dear--OH, Christy asked if you came in. Do you want me to get her?” 

Joel didn’t even think about her on his way in. He feels a twinge of guilt for silencing her call, ignoring her text. 

“Joel?” Carol asks, looking concerned. 

He snaps out of it and feigns a little smile. “Uh, no. No, thank you. Don't bother her.”

“Okay,” Carol says in a sing-song voice. “I'll leave you to it then.” She smiles and walks away. 

–

So she was expecting him. Oh, shit - he thinks through his mental calendar - Yeah, that’s not gonna happen. Warmth rises to his cheeks. It’s been so long since he’s felt his cheeks get warm. It must be something in your blood.  Not only has Joel taken blood from Christy, but she’s been his wingman before. They'd go out somewhere, and he'd listen to her drone on and on–she never took a breath–about  her armchair detective community. 

She’s always been a little too into the whole situation. If Joel thanked her for her help, she’d beam, “Any time.” She wasn't with him the night he met you. He wasn't on the hunt. But you smelled special, and he couldn't physically resist. 

Joel hears Christy greet someone. He can't dodge her, he just has to hope she walks on by.  He picks up his leather bag and puts it in his lap. He rifles through it until he finds a stick of menthol balm. 

“There he is,” Christy calls. 

Too late. He stuffs the menthol back in his bag without using it. He looks up, and she’s paused in the middle of the library with one hand on her hip and her eyes wide, even wider than usual.  

“Hey, Chris.” 

She hurries over. “So you are alive,” she teases with her arms crossed, then tilts her head, widens her eyes, and whispers, “figuratively speaking.” She laughs at her own joke. 

She knows as much about him as anyone alive. It's made a big difference having a friend who knows. This has been one of Joel’s better eras, but the era he’s moving into with you will be lightyears better. And it’ll be more than an era. 

“Kinda late,” she cringes lightheartedly. 

“Oh, no, no, none for me. I’m good, thanks. Sorry, I’ve uh – I’ve gotta go.” 

He stands up and puts his bag on.  She’s gonna know something’s up. He scratches the back of his neck, weighing whether to break down and tell her everything so she can help him know how to make you comfortable and happy. Plus, he just wants to talk about you. He wants to tell the world. But today he has one priority: taking care of you. 

“Waait a second,” Christy says knowingly, studying his face. “You’re glowing. You just got some good stuff, didn't ya?” She playfully punches Joel’s arm.  “Good for you,” she beams, then raises her eyebrows and lowers her voice. “Bet it was menstrual, O positive.”

“The blood type doesn't–”

“--You say that, but if you’d let me do my experiment. . .Oh! We’ve got some new microfilm downstairs. 1880s, if you can believe it.” 

“Not today,” Joel replies a little too quickly if he doesn’t want her prying.  

Her lips form a line and her eyebrows go up, then she shrugs it off. “Okay, mister. Hey, can you still take care of Cal next weekend? Nat and I are–”

“--Uh, yeah,” Joel starts to walk off. “If you can drop her off.” You might enjoy the cat’s company.

“Joel!” Christy calls after him. “Don’t forget this!” She’s holding his parasol. 

–

Next, Joel stops by the hardware store to get some supplies to secure you more comfortably. He’s sure he’s forgetting something, but this is a good start, and there’s always delivery. He doesn’t want to leave the house again this week. Thankfully, the hardware store is next to a Walmart, which has groceries, clothes, and pillows. He gets you some loungewear, socks, and new bedding. It’s the least he can do.

—--

When Joel gets home, he brings you four different pillows and some bedding. 

“Wasn’t sure what firmness.” 

He unlocks you and shows you the socks and lounge clothes. “These looked comfortable. Here, I can help. . .”

“I can do it,” you tell him. 

“Right.”  He turns around. While you’re changing, he says, “Let's order in tonight. Too tired to get anything started.”  

“I’m not hungry yet,” you tell him.

Then he shows you the new cuffs and chain. He rings the heart shaped tag onto one cuff, then puts it around your ankle. “Better?”

The chain is much lighter.  “Yeah, I guess,” you admit. “What’s this?” You look at the tag. 

“Oh I dunno, I just–I started worryin’.” 

You stare at him blankly. 

“I dunno, just in case.” 

“In case what?”

He swallows. “If ya. .” He looks around. He doesn't wanna say it out loud.  “If ya left. . . so ya could . . . I dunno, get back.”

Now there’s a hint of pity and bewilderment in your eyes. 

“It was stupid, sorry.” He takes a deep breath and manages a small smile. “Alright, sweetheart. I’ll be right upstairs.” 

-

When he gets upstairs, he looks at his phone and has a message from Christy. His stomach drops when the picture loads. It’s his search history about taking care of adult human women and what makes them stay.

“God damnit,” he curses himself. Of course he didn’t clear his search history. He didn’t even log off. She's typing. She stops, then starts again, and he presses the heels of his palms into his temples. What now? Should he call her? She wouldn't tell anyone, but – Her message comes through with a woosh: “this is what librarians are for.”

“Ha," he scoffs with the slightest smile. He shakes his head and turns the screen off without answering.  He should be relieved, but can’t help but worry. He's seen her at her worst. God, he hopes that was her worst.  What does she want?

Another message comes in: “let me help you."

Of course that’s what she wants. Funny enough, he’s seen her at her worst specifically when she was trying to help. But it’s still tempting, because she’s smart and resourceful. She could tell him everything there is to know about you within an hour. He’d love to know what kind of clothes you’d like, your favorite foods, how to make you happy. But for now, he’s doing alright on his own. He doesn’t text back. 

-—You—

A while after Joel goes upstairs, you hear drilling, then clanking, metal jingling, things being dropped. 

Later, he brings you dinner. He doesn’t eat, but he sits with you.  Then, after you’re done, he faces you, cross-legged on the mattress.  He’s wearing his glasses and has his journal again. There are handwritten notes in it. From upside down, you can see the words “buy” and “do.” Some items are crossed through.

“I was thinkin’,” he studies the page, then looks up at you. “Ya might need a bed.” He looks at your face for confirmation.   “Right?” he asks. Wow, he really wants an answer. 

“I mean. . . yeah, I sleep in a bed, if that’s what you’re asking.” 

“Okay, I’m workin’ on a room for ya.”

For the next few days, he’s hard at work. 

—----

He comes downstairs one evening around dinner time and says,  “I was thinkin’, maybe we could watch a movie or somethin’.”

“Here?”

“Uh, no sweetheart. I was thinkin’, if ya wanna come upstairs for dinner, then maybe, after that.”

“Really?”

“Yeah,” he smiles.

“Okay.”

He breathes a sigh of relief. “Good. Great.” He goes to the other end of the chain and takes a key out of his pocket to unlock the cuff from the floor.  As he's doing it, he mumbles, “You can, uh, pick the movie. If ya want.” The chain is sliding around on the mattress as he fiddles with the cuff. When the cuff is free from the hook, he puts it around his wrist, then locks it. Your breath hitches. He sees you looking at his wrist. 

“Don't wanna get separated,” he chuckles sheepishly, then puts a hand on your wrist. “Want yours here?” 

“Yeah.” 

He moves the leather cuff from your ankle to your wrist, and it's nice to feel his hands on yours as he fastens it. He smells good. Fresh, woodsy. He opens his palm and takes your hand to help you up. He holds the slack of the chain as the two of you walk upstairs. 

—

It's a large room with high ceilings. It's dark, but cozy. A fire is lit. There are plants, lots of plants. And bookshelves in the walls. He takes you through the main room, to a dining room with a huge table already set for two.  He offers you the head of the table and pulls out the chair for you. He lets the slack of the chain pool between your chairs, and you're both still wearing a cuff on your wrist. 

 You eat mostly in silence, which makes the jingling of the dog tag deafening when you move that hand. He asks where you’d like to travel. You’d love to just travel outside, down the driveway, but you humor him with more ambitious places.

The space is lit with gas candelabras, and it’s hard not to admire his handsome face and the way his eyes sparkle in the candlelight. Sometimes a flicker catches the silver in his beard just right.

After dinner, he takes you back to the main room. There's an oversized sofa with a large, soft blanket draped over it and pillows like the one Joel brought downstairs. There's a big, square ottoman. There's also a side table with two clean, empty wine glasses. The sofa faces the fireplace, which is quite wide, and there’s a screen mounted above it. Joel offers you a glass of wine, and you accept but won’t drink much of it. He starts the movie.

-

Joel puts his arm around you while you watch the film. The chain lightly clinks against itself as he strokes your shoulder, then your arm, and you feel yourself melting. He arranges the pillows and asks if you want to lie down. You do. He spoons you, with his free hand resting over your body. His chained hand is under the pillow, and it finds yours as the movie goes on. Your fingertips brush, and you don’t pull away. Then he fully rests his hand on yours. 

The hand draped over your side gradually begins to wander. He slowly, lightly strokes your side. . .then your hip. . . then your stomach, over your clothes. His breath deepens. His light, meandering touch makes you weak with desire and lulls you half asleep. 

“Thanks for being here,” he whispers. He kisses the nape of your neck. “I know it’s a lot to take in.” He kisses your hair. “But it'll be worth it.” His light touch continues, and you begin to tingle. “Won’t be stuck here forever. . .we’ll travel the world one day.”

His hand travels higher on your body as he moves it in loose circles, until he’s skimming the bottoms of your breasts. His palm grazes the outline of your hard nipple, and a hard shape twitches against your ass. You don’t flinch, but you inhale sharply through your nose, trying to suppress a wave of desire. 

Joel pulls his hips back and tucks the blanket between you, to your secret disappointment. Then he props his head up to admire you. “So many things I wanna do with you,” he murmurs, running his massive hand down your side again where he started. “And for you,” he whispers, draping his hand over your lower belly. Then, barely audible, so quiet you might be imagining it, “and to you.” He puts his head back down on the pillow and inhales your hair, skimming your top with his fingers.

His hand nudges under your lounge top, then his fingertips slip into your waistband ever so slightly, and you’re throbbing.  His fingertips skim your bare belly, dipping a little further into your pants. 

He asks, “You okay from. . .”

Your heart rate quickens. “Yeah, I think so.” 

���I can check,” he quietly offers. “Make sure I got it all.”

“Ok,” you whisper. 

“Good,” he slides his hand down your lounge pants. You’re not wearing underwear. You gasp softly as his fingers reach your clit. He pauses there, and an involuntary push of his hips lets you feel him through the blanket before he pulls back again. His fingertips get lower, then hook between your legs, and he softly gasps when he reaches your wetness. He runs his fingers through your folds, then uses his massive hand to hold the waistband open while he peeks at his fingers. 

“You did,” you whisper. 

“Yeah,” he agrees. “Shoulda waited, though. I wasn too rough. Shoulda let it happen.” He lets the waistband close over his wrist and cups your  mound.

“You weren’t,” you tell him, closing your eyes, embarrassed at the whole situation. Now he knows how wet you are. 

His middle finger twitches and nudges your clit, then begins nudging it rhythmically. Soon, it evolves toward a more deliberate, pleasure-focused rub, and he inhales deeply, chest expanding against your back. 

“I think I should go to sleep,” you whisper, overwhelmed. His finger stops moving, but his hand stays in your pants.  

Joel offers, “Might sleep better if–” 

“Not tonight.”  You twist your hips away from his, already hating yourself for cutting this off, but knowing you’d judge yourself for continuing. 

He slowly withdraws his hand. “Sorry,” he mumbles. “Somethin’ came over me.” 

On the way downstairs, he tells you again, “I’m workin’ on a room for ya. Just gimme a couple days.” 

He chains you back to the floor, then makes up the mattress with a new set of bedding and a comforter. He tucks you in, and leans over you. He wets his lips, looking at yours. You look away. He kisses you on the cheek, soft and slow. Somehow, it feels just as sensual as if it were your mouth.

“Night, sweetheart.” 

—-

The next evening, your room is finished.  He brings you upstairs and shows you what he’s done. It’s an actual bedroom, with a nice, roomy bed. There’s a reading nook with a big, comfy chair and a wall of books.  It’s dim, of course, but he shows you how to use the dials to remotely adjust the flames of the candelabras and chandelier. There’s a window with a curtain. It has steel bars, but at least it’s there. There’s a closet with clothes and some packages not yet opened.  There’s even a fireplace. 

“And here’s the best part,” he says excitedly, gesticulating in a way that makes the chain between you jingle. He brings you outside the bedroom and closes the double doors. There are two dark panels that create a heart where the doors meet.  “Check it out.” He retrieves a key from his pocket, and locks the door from the outside. It’s a heavy, satisfying click. He looks at you like you’re going to be excited. “So you can take this off,” he explains, holding up the chain. 

-----

You see Joel more often once you’re out of the basement. He’s happy to have you close, and you’re glad to have the accommodations. But you’re also confused, and a little depressed. You crave his presence and his touch in a way you know is unhealthy. You know it must be because he’s all you have right now, but your heart tells you there’s more to it. The whole situation has felt like a dream, and maybe that’s how you’ve coped. But the longer it lasts, the more real it feels.

One night, it catches up with you and you have a good cry. You try to be quiet. You try to stop, but you can’t. So you let it go, you just sob. 

After a while, you hear the heavy lock, and the massive door opens just enough for Joel to come in. He closes it behind him, then stands there rubbing his beard.  He looks at you like he’s lost, then cautiously approaches. 

“Hey,” he whispers. He sits down on the bed. You’re curled up, facing him. You don’t turn away. He strokes your arm, and you cry harder. “Oh, sweetheart.” His eyes are sad. He doesn’t ask what’s wrong. He knows. He lies down, facing you. He hugs you into him and you cry into his soft t-shirt, inhaling his scent with every gasp for air.  “It’s okay,” he whispers. “It’s gonna be okay.” 

You close your eyes, wanting him to kiss you, and you’re disturbed by your own desire.  You pinch your lashes shut harder, and your whole face tenses. It hurts.

“This isn’t okay,” you sob. “It’s not gonna be.” You try to push him away, but he holds you still. After all the times he’s folded, apologized, and backed off, that’s not what he does. He holds you in his arms, making you stay there. “What are you doing,” you whine, and you push at his chest. He doesn’t budge. You half-heartedly hit and kick at him, and he cages you with his leg, too. It soothes you, like a weighted blanket, but you fight it. 

“Shhhh,” he holds you tight. His voice is deep and quiet against the top of your ear. “We’re gonna be happy one day,” he insists. “Promise, sweetheart.” You exhaust yourself crying, and he holds you. “I love you.” You try to ignore it, but that doesn’t stop your heart from fluttering. Soon you’re nuzzling your head into his neck, gripping his shirt in a fist like you don’t want him to go. He drapes a heavy blanket over both of you. He holds you like that until you fall asleep and your fist releases his shirt. He stays a little longer, then kisses you on the forehead and leaves. 

—--

The next afternoon, Joel approaches you and sits down on the edge of the bed. “How ya feel? Ya look good,” he whispers, and cups your cheek. You don’t shrug him off. 

“I’m fine,” you reply, wishing he would lie down with you again, but not wanting to invite him. 

“What do you want for dinner?” he asks. 

“I don't care,” you answer.  

He sits there in silence and places a hand on your knee. 

“Got ya somethin’,” he murmurs, and stands up for a moment. He appears to get nervous as he reaches into his pocket. He pulls out a shallow, velvet jewelry box. He sits down again and holds the box out for you to take, but you don’t. He opens it for you. It’s a necklace. He tells you what the stone is. It’s your birthstone. It’s thoughtful, but he only knows your birthday because he has your wallet. He faces you and puts his hands around your neck as he puts the necklace on, getting his face close to yours so he can see the clasp. With his temple nearly brushing yours, you feel a surge of want. There’s no denying it. The scruff of his cheek scratches you lightly as he finishes fastening the necklace. “There,” he says, and looks at you adoringly.

“Thanks.” 

“You’re one of a kind, ya know.” 

He wets his lips and you notice they’re chapped, dehydrated. He’s pale. You find yourself wanting to hug him, kiss him, but you don’t. He kisses you on the cheek. 

—

One night, Joel makes you a special dinner. He cuffs the two of you together, and you eat in the dining room at the big table with him again. He tells you he needs your blood again. “I don’t have to take much,” he says. “It can be tomorrow,” he offers. “Don’t wanna spring it on ya.” 

“It’s alright,” you tell him. “You need it.” And the truth is, you want it. You want him to take it. You want to be taken back to that moment against your car. You want something that overwhelms your senses and puts you on another plane. You need something to remind you that you aren’t just a girl in a room, and he’s not just some guy keeping you there. If you can physically feel all of that, maybe you can let yourself relax. 

After dinner, he brings you back to your room and unchains you. You sit on the bed. He turns on the fireplace and tells you he’lll be right back. When he returns, he has an old medicine bottle with a cloth. He wets the cloth and says, “I’ll lay with ya, til ya wake up, okay?”

You look at the cloth in his hand and say,  “You don’t have to put me to sleep.” He adjusts the cloth in his hand. “Don’t,” you shake your head. 

His brows knit, and he reads your eyes for a few seconds. 

“Let me stay awake,” you plead. 

“You sure?”

You nod. He closes the bottle again and puts it on your nightstand. 

“Thought it scared ya,” he mumbles. 

“Well it did, when it was a surprise.” 

He nods solemnly. “I’m sorry ‘bout that. I really shoulda. . . I don’t even know.”�� If he had asked, you wonder if you would have let him. Surely not, so you can’t exactly blame him. 

-

“Okay,” he looks you over and gets on the bed with you. “You warm enough?” He nudges the cardigan you’re wearing. 

“Yeah,” you nod, and shrug it off. You’re cozy enough from the fire.

“C’mon, let’s get up here.” He guides you up the bed and gets you to lay down with your head on a pillow as if you’re going to sleep. 

He gets close to you, and starts lightly stroking your shoulder as he looks you over. His eyes glue to your neck, and he wets his lips, then he pulls his eyes back to yours. 

“You can choose,” he offers. “Where I take it.” 

You bite your lip as you watch his face and inhale his scent. 

“I can take it here again,” he caresses your neck. Then he holds your arm and lightly brushes his thumb across where you’d normally get an IV, giving you an unexpected surge in arousal.  “Or here.” 

He checks your face, then lays his hand on your waist. His palm skims your side, down your hip. “Or,” he runs his hand up your thigh under your dress. His thumb caresses your thigh, right near your pelvis, and he whispers, “I can take it here.” You’re nearly overwhelmed with desire already. 

“I dunno,” you whisper. 

He gently rolls you onto your back. He takes a deep breath, scoots down the bed, and gets between your thighs. He nuzzles your inner thigh with his nose, then whispers, "up to you, sweetheart."  You're throbbing.

“Tell me what feels right,” he murmurs and nuzzles your inner thigh with his nose.  His hair is fluffy and his eyes are dark and sparkly as he looks up at you. “God, you’re . . .” He reaches up and wraps a hand around your arm. “You’re perfect.” 

“Where do you want?” you ask. 

“Everywhere, anywhere. I want every inch of you.” 

You allow yourself a little smile and hold his eyes for a few seconds. 

He sits up again and offers, “I can make ya feel good.”

“I know,” you nod with a laugh.

“I mean, it’ll feel best, if you’re already feelin’ good.” 

You nod with butterflies in your tummy, telling yourself it’s for a practical purpose, and you might as well enjoy it. 

He nods and whispers, “Okay. . .good.” His eyes rove your body hungrily. He asks, “Anywhere ya don’t want me to touch ya?”

You say "no" so fast your cheeks heat in shame.

His eyes darken and he growls, “good,” as he prowls back up your body.  His triceps swell out from under his shirt.

He kisses you tenderly below your jaw and brings a hand to your breast.  You lift your chin with a sigh. He drags his lips and nose down your throat to your chest, pausing at your neckline. He looks up and you nod. He nudges the fabric aside with his nose, then plants a wet kiss on the swell of your breast, and his eyes close. He moans into your skin. Your gaze fixates on his softwash khakis, and he briefly removes his hand from your chest to adjust himself. “Sorry,” he mumbles.

“s’okay,” you whisper.

“‘Sposed to be about you right now,” he murmurs, looking up at you. You tilt your head, trying to look at his pants, but the room is too dim. Truth is, you’re finding it hard to think about anything but his cock at the moment. You only felt the briefest hint of it the other night. You want to feel it all.

He slides his hand up your thigh again, and his thumb nudges just slightly under the crotch of your panties, making you twitch. He takes a deep breath through his nose, then withdraws his thumb and lets down the edge of your panties. He scoots up to lie to your side again, leaving his knee between your legs. He rests his hand on your mound, and slowly ghosts your clit, closing his eyes.  When he opens his eyes again, they sparkle, and his face drifts toward yours.  You don’t flinch, you don’t pull away. You let him kiss you.

With one hand still between your legs, he slides the other one under your head. He kisses you slow and deep, stroking your most sensitive spot through your panties.  Your mouths remain connected as his massive hand slides up to your bare abdomen. He gives your side a little squeeze before sliding back down and nudging his fingers under the hem of your underwear. He pulls his lips from yours and looks at you darkly. It’s not a question, but you nod as his hand slides down.  You gasp and his knuckles strain the fabric as he cups your naked heat.  “Good,” he whispers when he feels how wet you are.  “What if ya just. . .” he kisses you again, then murmurs,  “let your body decide." He plants a soft, open mouth kiss on your cheek, then whispers in your ear, "I'll go everywhere. You tell me when.”

You wrap your wrists around his neck and he catches your inner arm with his mouth. He wetly kisses the inner crook of your elbow, looking up at you. Then he drags his lips down toward your chest, where he pulls your dress down. Your skin hardens with goosebumps as your nipples sharpen, and he groans softly. He kisses your bare breast, then fixes your dress, and kisses your hard nipple through the thin cotton. You arch your back and sigh. He gets between your legs and backs up as he kisses his way down your torso. He lifts your dress and thumbs your panties, sighing “oh, God.” 

He lifts one of your knees over his shoulder and kisses at your cunt through the damp fabric.  Your hips lift into his mouth. He licks along the edge of the crotch, then your inner thigh. He leaves a meandering trail of kisses around your inner thigh, then plants his lips and leaves a hickey. He glances up at you and adjusts himself again, and you let out a little moan.  “C’mere,” You nudge him, pulling at his arms, wanting nothing more than him on top of you. 

He prowls up your body and plants his hands on either side of your chest.  Lays his hips into yours, and when the shape of his warm, hard package presses into your most sensitive place, you gasp and he lets out a low moan. “Should I take-” he asks, reaching for his belt.  You’re nodding before he finishes the question. He uses his left hand to unbuckle his belt. “Sorry,” he mumbles as he pulls away from you enough to take his pants off. Now he’s in long johns, and it’s quite a bulge you’re looking at. Your face and chest burn. You pull him toward you with your feet. He presses his throbbing arousal against your aching heat, and you moan. You card your fingers through his hair. “Feel so good,” you whisper. 

“Good,” he whispers, then kisses your neck again.  

He puts his hand on your thigh and you wrap your leg around him. He lightly grinds into you as he kisses your neck, then your cheek, then your lips again. Your mouths open and draw each other in. You breathe each other’s air and drink each other’s spit. Your lips tingle. Your chest tingles. As you kiss harder, he grinds harder against you. You badly want him inside you, but  you won’t, you can’t, you shouldn’t, you tell yourself. 

The next time his mouth comes to your neck, he teases you with his tongue and a bolt of pleasure shoots down  your spine. Your nipples harden.  He opens his mouth wider against your skin. “Do it,” you whisper, then feel the prick of his fangs against your flesh. “Do it,” you repeat, and his arousal swells against you as he sinks his teeth into your skin. Your hips lift against his. He moans into your neck, and as your blood flows into him, he gets harder. You shudder in pleasure as he takes what he needs. You move his hand from your thigh to your breast, and you lift your pelvis into his, whispering, “yeah.” You’re not lightheaded, not yet. He’s doing this slowly, pacing himself. 

His warmer, harder cock twitches against you, and you reach down to grope it desperately. He groans. You grind up against him and moan, “Joel,” with a surge of need overtaking you. He ruts against you slow and hard, warm and stiff, then his cock pulses right against your clit. He groans into your neck, and you grind back against him, and the whole front of you begins to pulse with him. “Oh God,” you gasp and grab his ass, pulling him against you harder as the warmth of his cum seeps through the thermal fabric, “oh fuck,” you sigh as you cum with him. 

As you finish convulsing, his fangs release you. His breath is humid against your neck. “Fuck, i’m sorry,” he mutters. He leans his cheek against your shoulder, and you can feel how warm his face is. 

“Don’t be,” you whisper. “That felt really good.” He pulls back and looks at you, cheeks blotchy. 

“Really?” he asks. He cups and adjusts his manhood through his damp bottoms. “I never. . .”

“I know,” you reassure him. “It’s my blood, isn’t it?”

He nods with his eyes half closed. “It’s incredible.” 

You nod. “It was good for me too,” you admit. 

“I could feel it,” he puts a hand on your panties.  He sighs and lays half on top of you. He strokes your face. “Can I do somethin’ for ya?”

You shake your head no. “I’m good.” 

He caresses your neck. “I’ll get ya some ice.”

“No,” your hand comes to his back, and you don’t let him leave. “Just stay right here.” 

You lay in silence with him half on top of you. Then he props himself up to look at you. 

“We're made for each other,” he whispers, looking at your mouth. He kisses you softly, then meets your eyes. “You don’t believe it yet.  It’s okay.” 

“It’s not that I don’t-”

“It’s okay. Don’t have to,” he reassures you. He rests his head close to yours on the same pillow, and nuzzles his nose against yours. “Just hope ya feel it one day,” he murmurs into your cheek. “I know ya will.” 

You feel it. You disagree, you think, but you feel the truth in it. 

He puts his arm all the way over you. His arm is solid, and you imagine very heavy, but it's not dead weight. It's tense, like he's actively holding you there, just in case. 

—----

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His parasol was inspired by @gasolinerainbowpuddles mood board. 

Thank you so much for love for vampire!Joel and your patience for his story to continue.

I hear you about notifs not working, and tags too (i'm not receiving a lot of my tags either). consider checking my fic notifs blog @toxicfics or the "latest fics" link on my profile header once in a while to see what you might have missed.

[visionsofyouandme]

Sneak peek of the vampire!joel fic. Hopefully will be out sometime this weekend.

Oof. This is gonna be a spicy one, folks. 😮‍💨

[mermaidgirl30]

Vampire! Joel has taken over my entire being, and now I cannot think of anything else 🫠

[multiversed-daydreamer]

A Secret Worth Keeping

Summary: Joel has a secret he’s been keeping from the whole town of Jackson, and you unintentionally discover it while on patrol with him. Now he has to convince you to keep his secret as well. 

Pairing: Vampire!Joel Miller x Reader

Tags: Vampire!Joel. Blood drinking, Non-con blood drinking, Allusions to hostage situation, mild Dom/sub dynamic, power imbalance

A/N: Happy spooky season, here's a Vampire!Joel fic. Check out my Masterlist for more! :D

~

You walk along the treeline on the edge of the ski lift, the autumn air is brisk, and orange and yellow leaves crunch under your boots as you search the trees for infected and raiders alike.  Joel was around on the other side, planning on meeting up with you in the middle of the circle. You trudge your way through the underbrush. The wind blows on your face, turning your cheeks and tips of your ears a little pink. The leaves rustle both on the ground and in the trees, a few fluttering in the wind, shaken from their last thread-like hold on their branches. You love this time of year. Jackson had grown some pumpkins and several of them are now sitting on porches carved as jack-o-lanterns. A few crafty women had come up with some giant fake spiders and do-it-yourself ghosts. Some of the older Halloween movies have been playing in town each night. Nosferatu, Frankenstein, Dracula. It was great to see the cheesy, black-and-white monsters stalk around around the screen for a few hours.

  

As you circle the lodge, a twig snaps up ahead. Your eyes scan the area in the trees, looking for either a threat or just a deer passing through, but you can’t see anyone. You sweep the treeline for Joel, you’re almost to the halfway point, he should be somewhere nearby. You cock your pistol, listening closely for more noise. There was a rustling behind a tree and you step further into the woods. A low-hanging branch scrapes along the side of your neck, but you’re too focused on the rustling ahead of you to care much. You round the tree and spot Joel struggling to unhook a rabbit from a trap set out by the previous patrol duo. He glances over his shoulder and watches you scoff and lower your gun. “I almost shot you.”

He chuckles. “Watch the trigger finger, I’m gettin’ our dinner down.” He fiddles with the wire looped around the rabbit's foot before it drops to the ground. You expect him to lean down and snag the rabbit, but instead, he turns to assess you, eyes landing on the cut by your neck. A strange gleam sparks in his dark eyes at the sight. “You’re bleedin’ there.” He nods, stepping closer to you, reaching out to touch the wound, it stings a little when his fingertips brush against it. 

You hiss and step out of reach again, reaching up to touch yourself, pulling your hand back to see a little tinge of red on your fingers. You don’t notice Joel bringing his own hand up to his lips, sucking your blood off his index finger. He closes his eyes and fights the urge to groan, you taste even better than you smell. Fuck, he promised Tommy he wouldn’t drink from anybody in Jackson, just raiders when they strayed a little too close. But you’re right here and if he can convince you not to tell anybody, Tommy would never know. 

He steps closer to you, reaching out to grab your waist, and backs you into a tree, pinning you there. You blink up at him in confusion before looking around for maybe a raider or some stray infected that he might’ve spotted. “What is it?” You ask, wanting to appear like you’re not completely put off guard by his behavior. 

“‘M sorry, Darlin’. Jus’ smell so good. Can’t help myself.” He sounds drunk, but you don’t smell any alcohol on him. He leans down and licks at the scratch on your neck, shuddering at the taste of it. You flinch, the rough drag of his tongue leaving the wound stinging. 

“We can… There's a first aid kit in the lodge.” You input hesitantly, a little freaked out by Joel’s animalistic behavior. He lets out a noise between a hum and a growl. 

“I’ll take care of you, Darlin’.” He murmurs, gently nuzzling his nose behind your ear as his arms slide around you, pulling you firmly into his chest. Just a little taste, he won’t kill you. Tommy won’t know. He leans down and bites firmly into your jugular. Your blood pulses onto his tongue in rhythm with your rapid heartbeat. You push against his chest and he groans at the feeling. You taste so sweet, nothing like the big burly raiders he usually has. Their blood turned a little bitter from drugs and the rough fight Joel typically wears them down with. No, you’re small compared to them, you smell like cinnamon and apples and shampoo. You push weakly against his chest, whimpering out his name. He groans and sucks on your neck in response. His cock is twitching in his pants. It’s been years since he’s mixed feeding with pleasure and he thinks of all the delicious possibilities that could become a reality if he can convince you to be his little secret keeper. 

You slowly fall limp into his arms as he takes more blood from you. He keeps careful track of your heartbeat, he wants you to live just so he can taste you over and over and over again. Once he’s had enough to satisfy him for tonight he pulls away, licking your neck until the fang marks have healed and the scratch on your neck is a faint pink line. He looks down at you in his arms, dizzy from blood loss and certainly not making it to the lodge without his help. You whimper at him, eyes meeting his, but he doubts you can actually focus on much. You stir against him, trying to find your footing, he watches you for a moment before leaning down and hooking his forearm behind your knees, sweeping you up entirely. You mumble a protest and he chuckles, seems like he picked a little fighter. 

He turns and manages to bend over and snag the rabbit before trudging up to the entrance of the lodge. He sets you on the couch and works on getting a fire going. The closest infected is miles away and isn’t a threat. Once he gets a fire roaring, he steps outside to skin the rabbit. He buries the hide so it doesn’t attract predators and then heads back inside to chop up the meat to cook. As he’s working, you begin to stir again. You sit up, your hand coming to cup your neck where he bit you. “Take it easy, darlin’. Cookin’ the rabbit for you.”

He has to admit, he simultaneously loves and hates to see the fear in your eyes when you look at him. He offers a well-practiced, easy smile, “Relax, I’m full. Ain’t gonna bother you for the rest of the night.” But he might grab a small bite tomorrow morning before you leave to return to Jackson though. 

“You… you’re a v-” You bite your lip. Despite what just happened outside, saying the word out loud just felt ridiculous. Joel laughs when you refuse to say it. 

“Vampire?” He taunts. Before nodding. “Yeah, somethin’ like that. Clickers and humans ain’t the only thing roamin’ around in the apocalypse.” Joel mutters. 

“What happened?” You asked curiously. 

Joel raises a surprised eyebrow at you. “I got jumped about six years back sneaking back into the QZ from a smugglers raid. One bit me and I tried to fight ‘im. Guess he saw some sorta potential in me or somethin’. He turned me instead of killing me. Been feeding offa raiders for the most part. Tommy said he’d kick me outta town if I fed from anyone in Jackson.”

He dumps chunks of rabbit meat into the pot above the stove before washing his hands. He can’t get sick from raw mean but he can still get humans around him sick… namely Ellie. You raise a pointed eyebrow at him. “‘Bout that. Was hopin’ you wouldn’t mention my little slip up back there. Ellie’s gettin’ settled here and I don’t wanna disturb that.” 

You eye him warily from where he leans against the pillar in the center of the room. “You go around biting people in secret a lot?” 

He smiles, he doesn’t seem nervous, or even angry, which is kind of how you expect Joel Miller to react when you hold information that will get himself and his kid kicked out of the community. “No. No one knows except for Tommy and Maria.” 

That has you furrowing your brows. “Ellie. Is she like you?” 

Joel shakes his head, a severe look crossing his face when you mention the girl’s name. “No. Nor do I want her to know what I am. It was hell hiding it from her the past year. She’s been through a lot, I ain’t adding to that. And if you do, I’ll make sure to swing by your place before I leave to drain your veins dry, y’hear?”

You nod. That fear comes back full force and Joel takes advantage, pushing off the pillar and stalking toward you. Before you can get up to put distance between you, Joel leans down and grips your biceps in his hands. You’re once again reminded of how massive he is. “You’re mine now. Do you understand?” 

You shake your head. His in what capacity? “Not really, no.” You answer honestly. 

He squats down in front of you and sighs, talking to you like you were five. “I bit you, that means I claimed you. That means I’m in charge of you. That means that if I tell you not to tell anybody, you don’t fuckin’ tell anybody. You are now my human, and you’ll do what I fuckin’ say. Got it?” You nod an affirmative this time, eyes wide with trepidation. Joel squeezes your arms. “Words, girl. Let me hear you say you understand.” 

“I understand.” You whisper shakily. It also sort of answers your next question… will he try to feed from you again? “Are you going to feed from me again?”

Joel raises an eyebrow. “Tonight? No. I think you’ve had enough excitement for today. But perhaps before we leave tomorrow.” He gives you a devilish grin. “You’re far tastier than the raiders Tommy lets me pick off.” You whimper and draw away from him. He chuckles and stands, going over to the pot and getting a bowl of soup and a spoon, giving it to you. “Eat, it’ll help you feel better. I’ll take watch tonight so you can get some rest.”

“Thanks,” you mutter, blowing on the chunk of rabbit on your spoon before sticking it in your mouth. It was pretty good. You lift your bowl and nod to the soup pot over the fire. “Spoil your dinner?” 

Joel grins. “Darlin, you were my dinner.”

“I’ve seen you eat food.” 

“Don’t mean I like it. I play along when I have to, but since you know, I ain’t torturing myself with that shit.” He nods to the soup before looking at you, eyes locked on your neck. “‘Less you’re offering more?” 

“No.” You say quickly, and Joel laughs again. 

“Tomorrow it is.” 

You don’t respond, you doubt you’ll talk him down tomorrow morning, but you immediately make a mental note to ask Maria to switch your patrol partner the second you hit Jackson’s borders and to avoid Joel at all costs. 

“Know what you’re thinkin’ darlin’. It ain’t gonna work. I’ve got a taste for ya now, I ain’t lettin’ a delicious thing like you go.” You look up at him and he winks.

~

Part 2

[hauntedhowlett]

vampire joel can have me any time.

Attraction spell || Vampire ! Joel x Witchy reader

CW: DDDNE, noncon/dubcon, stalking, blood play, using blood as lube, ambiguous ending, unprotected p in v, fingering, praise kink, choking, pain kink, rough sex, minimal editing. (around 1400 words)

Divider by saradika

Notification blog

This place almost feels like it's between life and death. It's overrun by dust, but it's as warm as human flesh.

And you, you look so alive, so warm, as he peers through the window of your small witchcraft store. A lot more curious people seemed enticed by your shop on Halloween day, or Samhain as you'd call it, so he had to wait until things quieted down. Usually, you waited long hours until you had costumers, reading, cleaning, playing with tarot cards. He knew each and every one of your habits. But today, you were a busy bee.

When all the kids leave happily with their pumpkins stuffed with candy, he looks down at his beat-up watch. Only a few minutes before closing time.

You clean your workspace and make sure every herb is in the right spot. You looked at your low candy inventory and grab one for yourself as you start cleaning the floors, a lollipop between your lips.

You do not hear the door open. Weird... usually, the bell rings. But there's a man, alone, in your shop. You try to repress the goosebumps you feel all over your arms and the scream of surprise that threatens to leave your lips.  

His fingers are touching every nick knack, every shiny rock before he looks at you with a smile that makes you uneasy.

He's unnaturally beautiful with deep brown eyes and matching curly hair. You on suck the lollipop one last time before you take it out of your mouth to speak.

"Oh hi there! Didn’t hear you come in. I was just starting to clean before close, but feel free to ask for help." You offer in an overly enthusiastic tone.

Joel watches the red candy closely, drenched in your saliva, before looking at your eyes, where he detects the sweet feeling of fear.

“Sorry darlin’, didn’t mean to startle ya.” He has a southern drawl to his voice; he wasn’t from around here. His accent almost didn’t match his face. “Was lookin’ for a love spell. Hopin’ a sweet witch could help.”

“Hmmm.” You leave your broom aside and turn around to look at your shelves lines with different transparent jars, all labeled in your clean, cursive writing. “Love spells aren’t very ethical. But – I can make an attraction spell for you, does that work?”

You don't hear him move, even though he’s wearing heavy boots, and when you turn around, he’s right there. Crowding you behind the small space of your counter and your wall of shelves. He’s tall and broad, and he makes you feel like a vulnerable mouse he could just crush under his feet. Your breath gets stuck in your throat, and you feel yourself suffocated by his mere presence. Under his cologne smell, you detect the slightest hint of the coopery smell of blood.

You keep your calm. It wasn’t your first time dealing with creeps.

“That works, darlin’.”

“I’ll just need your name.” You move away from him swiftly to collect your ingredients.

“Why?” The man asks, clearly annoyed.

“Can’t put my intention a spell behind without a name.”

“Joel.”

“Alright, Joel, let’s get started.”

You do your best to ignore him as you put the herbs in a small fabric bag. You do your best to ignore your hands that are violently shaking. You do your best to ignore how you’re making a mess on your clean counter, herbs littering the space. Before you can even feel him there, you feel a sharp pain in your neck, like a deep puncture. You almost fall, but strong hands hold you in place, fingers splayed over your stomach.

“What the f-”

“Shh sweetheart, le’me enjoy my meal, yeah?” 

You can’t scream, you’re suffocating. When he pulls his fangs out, you feel weak, but thankfully, he holds you up. You hope this is just a really bad nightmare and you’ll wake up in your bed in seconds…

He licks your neck, cleans his mess. You repress the butterflies in your lower abdomen.

“M’sorry, a man has to eat. Been watching you for a long time.” His voice is deep and rough next to your ear. “Knew just how sweet you’d be.”

He spins you around in his arms, just so you can see how sincere he looks. Brown irises were replaced by a deep crimson that matches the – your blood dripping from his lips.  You try to push him away, but his grip is iron-like.

“You had what you wanted, let me go…” You whisper weakly.

“Hmhm. Don’t have my fill of ya just yet.” 

You spin, too fast. He pushes on your lower back, so the top of your body is laying against your shop counter. You feel his hips against you, he’s so close.

“Please Joel, don’t hurt me.”

“M’not gonna hurt you. Gonna make you feel real good. Stay still.” While he tears off all your clothes, he takes a bite on the other side of your neck, but this time, he lets the blood run down your neck for a little while, watching like a satisfied predator. He uses two of his fingers to collect the blood dripping from the wound, and he uses those same fingers to enter your heat. You’re closing around him, resisting.

“Relax. Not gonna hurt you.” He repeats.

“O-Okay.”

You’re breathing in and out until you’re more relaxed. Joel waits until he feels your walls relaxing to start moving his fingers, stretching you. He curls his digits, finding that spot deep within you. You let out a moan.

“There ya go, hun’. Enjoy yourself.”

You’re wetting his fingers, creating a beautiful potion of your juices and your blood. He thrusts his fingers roughly, in and out, creating a symphony of wet sounds and moans in the empty store.

“Knew you’d be such a good girl.” Joel’s words push you over the edge.

Your walls flutter around his fingers and he feels you getting even wetter. He takes his fingers away from you and spins you around. You’re a wreck: blood still spilling from your neck wounds, completely naked, your clothes torn in shreds by your feet. He smiles, his shiny canines fully out. His lips close around his digits, sucking off the blood and the remains of your orgasm.

His eyes roll into the back of his skull, and you can’t help the deranged thought that crosses your mind: he’s breathtakingly beautiful. But so are most monsters.

“You could’ve at least kissed me before fucking me, Joel.”

“I’m sorry.” But he smirks. He’s not.

Joel’s hands are on your face, grabbing, pulling at you until his lips are crashing against yours, a wave of depravity and sharp teeth scratching your bottom lip. His hands go from your cheeks to your throat, putting pressure there, as if to stop the blood from dripping. The air is leaving your lungs slowly, and you feel like you’re actually going to die, until he props you up on your counter. You watch him with dark eyes as he unzips his pants. He’s tanned all over. You thought vampires would be paler, but maybe it was a myth.

You sit back, resting on your palms as you watch him working his erection. You wrap your legs around his middle and follow his length disappearing between your legs. Your head lay against his broad shoulder. He barely gives you a moment to adjust before his hips are snapping harshly against yours. Pants are escaping from your lips as he moves rapidly. But your mind wanders. To find something that could save your life.

You doubt that the vampire would let you go after this, especially if he’s been stalking you. He pulls on your hair to look down at your face, feeling how you suddenly got distracted. He stills inside you. He knows.

“Whatever you’re thinkin’, doll, you’re not getting out of this.” Joel groans menacingly. 

Before you can react in any way, you’re facing the ground, your face squished against the creaky floorboards, his weight pushing you down.

“I-I wasn’t tryin’ to…”

He pulls on your hair and stuffs three thick fingers in your mouth to shut you up, making you gag.

“Be a good girl and shut the fuck up.” The vampire lets go of your hair and puts his palm beside your head to support his weight. Joel is breaking into your walls again, picking up where he left off at the same punishing pace. His length is so deep, it almost hurts, but the line between pleasure and pain had been blurred for a while now. You suck on his fingers to muffle your screams while he pounds into you violently. After a few more thrusts, he stills and erupts between your walls, filling you up.

Finally, he frees your mouth and lets you turn around, still caged by his massive body.

“Just kill me already.” You whisper weakly.

“Oh no, baby.” He coos in a sickly-sweet tone. “I’ll keep you. For eternity.”

[lokischocolatefountain]

Pedro Pascal choosing roles