#werewolf x joel miller | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

animasola86 · 2 months ago

Text

🐺 A KNOT TO REMEMBER

m!werewolf x f!reader 🔥 very explicit 🔥 words: 7.6k

In search of some fresh air, you stumble through a beautifully arranged garden. The full moon shows the path, or so you think, until you find yourself face-to-face with something very large and very hairy.

WARNINGS: NSFW! Explicit sexual content! Werewolves! Abduction! Dubcon? Knotting! Breeding! Cum inflation! Fluff? (READ ON AO3!)

A/N: This is part 4 of my CHOOSE YOUR OWN ADVENTURE smut series! 1 🔸 2 🔸 3 🔸 4 🔸 5 🔸 6 🔸 7 This is OPTION 3 - but can be read individually, let me just set the scene.

CONTEXT: You were invited to a Halloween party in a mysterious house, dressed as Little Red Riding Hood, and on your search for the bathroom, you come to a long hallway full of doors, and you decide to go through the door at the end of it, thinking some fresh air would be preferable now.

When you walk through the door, a cold breeze passes by you, making you rub your exposed arms. It's been a mild October thus far, so you didn't bring a jacket. All you have is the red cape that gives your costume its name. Pulling it around your shoulders, you follow the short hallway to another set of doors that lead you straight outside. The fresh air is numbing, but also strangely clearing, and the deeper you inhale, the steadier you feel.

The full moon stands high in the sky, illuminating a beautiful garden before you. You see rows of neatly trimmed hedges, large flower pots and other intricately laid out plant arrangements fit for the season, broken up by either a bench or a little lamp casting additional light into the dark night, with a narrow gravel path snaking through the vast grounds.

You decide to walk off the strange feeling in your guts. With your hood over your head, you quickly feel warmer again. The low thump of the music from the house quiets down with every step you take away from it, deeper into the garden. Soon you find yourself in the middle of a maze, with hedges too high to look over, and paths just wide enough to walk through comfortably. A sinking feeling grips you as you keep walking, but everything looks the same.

Quickening your steps, you feel your heart beating harder in your chest. Good idea to walk through a maze in the freaking dark, you scold yourself, but before you can think of a clever retort, you suddenly hear a strange howling noise, seemingly far away, probably past the forest surrounding the house. It still makes your blood run cold. You stop in your tracks, listening hard, but all you can hear is your own rapid heartbeat and the gentle swish of the wind through the leaves around you, there are no animal sounds, no owls hooting, no insects chirping, no critters running about.

Just eerie silence – until another howl cuts through the night, making you gasp. This time it's much closer, louder, and without even thinking, you turn around, trying to run back to the house, knowing you shouldn't be out here in the first place. Your flight instinct is cut short when you run blindly into... something. Something solid, big, warm...

Stumbling back, you look up with wide eyes, panting heavily, and when you see what you ran into, you freeze, holding your breath, shock settling into your limbs. It's a wolf. As tall as a man. Wait, it is a man, he's standing on his hind legs, but he's got the head of a wolf, with a long snout, sharp eyes and teeth, fluffy ears and all a wolf would have, but below his wide shoulders he may just be a very hairy man, muscular, bulky even, despite the rough looking dark fur covering every inch of his massive body, very intimidating, and he also has a long bushy tail swishing lazily behind him. When he speaks, which surprises you, his voice rumbles through the air like thunder.

“Are you lost, little girl?” he asks, tilting his large head.

You stare up at him with your lips parted, too dumbstruck to process anything. “I... uh... yeah,” you mumble, eyes scanning the large figure in front of you frantically. He really is very hairy, hairy enough he doesn't even need clothes you notice. “I think... I mean... the house is right there, isn't it?”

The wolf man turns around before a low chuckle escapes him. “Not quite. You went a little too far, didn't you, Little Red?”

You blink at the nickname, but then remember your costume – and your initial disappointment that there hasn't been any wolf at the party to match your freak. Well, now you've found him, or he you. And his costume is impressive. Might just be one of those fur suits, one of the more realistic looking ones, because the way he stares down at you almost feels a little too realistic. It's not a mask, is it? But it probably is, it has to be. The alternative would mean he is a real werewolf, and you know that those things don't exist.

Right?

Swallowing hard, you take a cautious step backwards. He moves with you, his imposing body getting closer again, threateningly. You let out a scared little whimper.

“Oh, don't be afraid, little one. I won't hurt you. Not too much anyway,” he adds with a low growl that might have been a laugh. You don't feel like laughing back.

“A-are you –” you stammer, your shoulders shaking with how frantic your chest rises and falls. “A... a... you know... a werewolf?”

He tilts his head again, putting his large hands (paws?) onto his hairy hips as he watches you curiously. “What do you think?” he rumbles, licking his long tongue around his muzzle, showing off razor sharp teeth that gleam in the moonlight. Nope. That's not a mask. This is fucking real.

“Oh God!” you cry out, and in your panic you turn around and run, nothing but terror pulsing through your body as you stumble headlessly through the darkness, away from whatever monster you just encountered. In your haste to round another corner of the maze, your cape gets caught by some thorns, ripping right off you, but you keep running, fleeing into the night.

“He won't help you here,” you hear the deep voice behind you, rapid footsteps following you before you feel a rush of air that knocks you right over. Or rather it's the wolf jumping onto your back, crashing you into the hard ground beneath you. You scream in shock, the pain only registering a few seconds later when you feel your knees scraping open and your palms rubbing over rough gravel.

You squirm in desperation, wailing helplessly beneath him. His hot breath hits your nape, and you freeze immediately, stiffening in fear. He sniffs your hair, and then you feel something warm and wet along the side of your neck. He's licking you, coaxing a sorrowful whine out of your throat.

“Shh, it's alright, little one. Don't be scared. No need to run from me. Wouldn't you say we were destined to meet?” His voice vibrates through you as he presses his snout against the side of your head while his large hands rub along your sides, his strong thighs bracketing your hips, his weight pushing you deeper into the ground. “My little Red Riding Hood...” he continues, poking his wet nose against your cheek. “Weren't you looking for your wolf too?”

You can only wail pathetically, too panicked to consider his words. “Please... no...”

He huffs a warm breath against your skin. “Well, it can't be helped. Fate brought us together. You are mine now,” he says in his deep voice, and suddenly he moves back, off your body, giving you a moment to breathe, but only so long before he grips you around the waist and throws you over his hairy shoulder. At first you're too shocked, then you start squirming and struggling in his hold, gripping his fur, slapping his broad back, kicking your feet. But it feels hopeless. He is just too big, too strong, holding your thighs together with only one hand.

A deep sigh sounds from him as he walks you further into the darkness, ignoring your weak attempts to fight back. Eventually you go limp in his hold, hanging upside down as you do, quickly feeling all the blood rushing into your head, adding to the nausea you felt earlier. Your fingers dig into his pelt, and you're surprised to find it rather soft. Not as rugged as it initially looked.

It doesn't help much to focus on the texture of his fur when you suddenly feel a change in elevation as he carries you down a set of stairs. Then your world is spinning once more when he pulls you off his shoulder, unceremoniously throwing you onto the ground. You land hard, with all the air being pushed out of your lungs, groaning as you roll onto your side, raspy breaths rattling in your tight throat. Before you can take a look around, something drapes over your head.

You cry out, frantically gripping whatever fabric is blocking your vision, only to find it's your red cloak. Staring at it after you've pulled it off your head, you frown.

“Put it on,” the large wolf man tells you in his gruff voice, and you frown even more. “And ditch the rest of your clothes.”

“What?” you gasp out and sit up quickly, looking at him with wide eyes, your heart beating faster.

“Do it yourself or I'll rip them off for you,” he replies, glaring down at you.

“W-why?” you stammer, hugging the cloak to your chest protectively.

An exasperated grunt escapes him. “Why do you think? It's the full moon, and that means one of two things: one, I either find a victim to eat... or two, one to eat out and fuck senseless. I figured you'd prefer the second option.”

Your lips part in a mixture of indignation and shock. Confusion is in there too. You should have known it would come to this, why else would he have carried you away, into his lair presumably, definitely not to talk. He told you not to be scared, but that was probably just a ploy to calm you down some. You are now far from it as hysteria grows within your fluttering stomach.

It's not necessarily the prospect of sex with a stranger, but this guy is a freaking wolf. A werewolf. An animal. Isn't that bestiality or something? And don't werewolves have special... cocks? You feel your cheeks warming up badly as your mind wanders, as do your eyes, lower down his large body, but before you can look for any genitalia between all that fur, you huff a grunt and look away, shaking your head.

“Hmm, you wanna make this difficult, little one?” he growls, slowly stalking closer until he's crouching in front of you, his large hands finding your shoulders, his claws pressing threateningly against your skin. “You should consider yourself lucky I think you're too cute to eat.”

You look back at him, into those dark eyes, his long snout so close to your face you can feel the warm breath on your chin. A shiver crashes through you, and to your biggest embarrassment, there's a throb between your legs, a familiar warmth settling in your core. You press your lips into a thin line and avert your eyes again. He exhales against your face.

“Well?” he huffs.

“You... you're a wolf...” you mumble in response, squirming in his hold. ��How... how's that gonna work?”

His laugh catches you off guard. “Oh, little one, don't worry. I still have all the hardware needed for this, trust me. I bet you'll enjoy it more than you think...”

Chewing on the inside of your cheek, you blink slowly before focusing your eyes on his large head once more. You have to give it to him. He could have just taken you, taken what he wanted, ripped your clothes off and pounded into you like the feral beast he is, but he actually seems to ask for your consent in a way, or at least gives you time to consider it, which only adds to your confusion. The worst thing about it, is that your body already knows the answer.

He suddenly moves his snout, pressing his wet nose against your neck and sniffs, and you feel both ashamed and angry with yourself that he can probably smell your arousal as well. In an attempt to distract him from it, your hands shoot up as you dig your fingers into the thick fur of his chest, trying to push him away. He leans back and watches you curiously. You're breathing harder as you face him and the things that are bound to happen.

You can't fight him, he's too strong. From what you can see, he's brought you into some kind of basement and probably locked you in as well. There's no use trying to escape. You are here now, in his clutches, and he may be a werewolf with werewolf anatomy, but he's also talking and when you ignore the large wolf head, you can try to convince your mind that he's just a very hairy man.

And you did come to this party to let loose, to enjoy yourself, to experience an adventure. You had no idea it would turn into a sex adventure, but here you are. And if the alternative is being eaten alive by a monster, than what are you waiting for? Inhaling deeply, you let go of him and move your shaking hands to the buttons of your blouse, slowly undoing one by one as you keep him in your sight, while your heart beats faster with every inch of skin you expose to him.

He leans back on his haunches, his snout seemingly morphing into a wide smile. “What a good girl,” he growls, licking his sharp teeth.

You swallow hard as you continue to strip for him, until your chest is bare and you fidget to get your skirt over your hips in your sitting position. A yelp escapes you as he suddenly grabs your waist and pulls you up, lifting you effortlessly as he stands up to his full height, holding you in front of him like a frightened kitten with your feet dangling in the air. You don't fight it anymore, you just look up at him, blushing as you notice his hungry stare wandering up and down your naked body.

He sets you to the ground again, gentler this time, then leans down to grab the cape and slowly drapes it around your shoulders, his large hands/paws fumbling to try to bind the string into a loop. You reach up, your small hands brushing against his furry digits, before you fasten the bow yourself, keeping the cloak from sliding down again. It does give you a bit of security, even though it leaves your front fully exposed to him. You should probably feel worse about this, but despite a heavy blush creeping down your chest, you try to remain as still as you can, forcing yourself to play along, not wanting to provoke him into eating you after all.

He huffs a satisfied grunt before he grabs you again and lifts you onto his arms. You hold onto his furry shoulders as you gasp softly from the sudden motion. Breathing harder, you focus on him instead of your surroundings, it would only make you want to find an escape route if you knew where he was taking you. First you have to finish this, satisfy the beast, and once he's sated and done with you, hopefully too exhausted to follow you, you could try to sneak away. That is the plan anyway.

You just hope you won't enjoy your predicament too much.

His heavy footsteps echo through the basement, and before you know it, he's throwing you down again, a little bit gentler and this time onto a softer surface, not a bed, but an assortment of thick blankets and pelts on the floor. There's even some straw beneath it all. Primitive, as you would expect from a beast snatching up random women in the night. Even though you may not have been as random as you think.

Fumbling to untangle the cape that got caught around your neck, you look towards him as he stalks closer, bent over like the monster he is, an imposing figure, a terrifying sight that makes goosebumps ripple over your exposed skin. When he suddenly prances forward, you yelp in surprise, trying to scoot back, but his large hands find your thighs, pinning you down and spreading your legs, and with your mind still reeling, you don't even have time to comprehend his next move until you feel his hot breath right against your center.

“No... wait...” you wail quietly, your hands shoving at his large head, but he doesn't budge, and when he opens his large maw and extends his long tongue, you watch him in both terror and with a strange fascination before a deep moan is ripped from your throat as you feel that same tongue lapping along your slit, parting your folds with a strength that makes you throw your head back. “Oh...”

Your fingers dig into the fabric of your cloak that's fanned out around you as you start bucking your hips up, a motion you didn't plan, it just happened, a reflex, a response to the urges boiling within you. It should feel strange to have this beast devour you like this, in a way you never expected, but it also feels too good to fight it anymore. His tongue is hot and wet and large enough to lick up your entire sex, all the way from your puckered hole to your throbbing clit. A single swipe leaves you absolutely breathless, writhing at the edge of pleasure.

He sure knows what he's doing.

And he keeps doing it until you dissolve into nothing but a mewling mess, a puddle of boneless limbs on the makeshift bed, moaning and gasping as the sensations crash through your nerves. On the peak of your orgasm he starts moving his tongue differently, pushes deeper between your folds, and before you know it you can feel it slipping into your clenching cunt, coaxing a strangled squeak out of you.

You hear and feel him huffing against you, low grunts that vibrate through your entire body, enhancing the feeling of his warm snout between your trembling legs. He moves the muscle deeper, laps at your squishy walls, presses into every crevasse he can reach, and all you can do is tilt your hips and contort before him, riding out the most intense orgasm you may have ever had. Most special one also.

Despite your mind turning into mush, filling up with cotton, you still wonder if this may just be a dream. The strangest one for sure, but still a dream. No way could you be eaten out by an actual werewolf. But when he keeps doing what he does, you soon stop caring and just enjoy the feeling. Doesn't matter. You're in for the ride now.

You don't know how many orgasms he pulls from you until he finally leans back and extracts his tongue from inside you. You barely feel it when he laps up your juices, grunting as he does so, but the moment he crawls over you, more of his big body pressing you into the blankets, you blink your eyes into focus and stare up at him, noticing how wet his muzzle looks. You feel your cheeks burning up. Somehow you have the urge to reach your hands up and pat his long snout, and you do, carefully stroking the rough fur all the way to his pointy ears, and he even hums deeply when you scratch him behind them.

A dumb little smile grazes your lips, and for a moment you wish he'd be a real man so you could kiss him, share the feeling of joy reverberating through your insides, but he has the head of a wolf and despite your blissed-out state you don't want to come into close contact with those sharp teeth. How he kept them away from your sensitive skin is still a mystery to you, but also nothing you seem to worry too much about.

He gives you a wide lick in response, his languid tongue stroke reaching from your chin all the way to your eyebrow, and you giggle and try to turn your head away, swatting at his head before wiping at the slobber on your skin. A growl like a laugh echoes from him before he shifts on top of you, strong arms braced on either side of your shoulders, his knees bracketed around your hips as he crouches over you, his shins pressing down on your wide open legs. The rough fur of his stomach rubs against your body, sending shivers down your spine.

“Look at it,” he tells you in a deep rumble, and you blink in confusion before your eyes move lower, and you see it.

It being his cock. It's huge. Bright red with a tapered tip and the hint of a bulbous protrusion near the base, fully unsheathed from within his furry groin as it lies hot and heavy on your fluttering stomach, reaching all the way up to your ribs. You swallow dryly at the sight of it. Too big. It'll never fit. Your eyes move back up to his face, and you can't help it, you shake your head no as tears gather in the corners of your eyes.

He tilts his head, opening his maw to bare his teeth as he growls low in his throat. “You will take it. You were meant for it. You'll see,” he hisses darkly, nudging his wet nose against your chin before he starts lapping at your wet cheeks as the dam breaks and you realize you may have bitten off more than you can chew. “Shh, don't cry. You'll love it, I'm sure,” he continues between licking at your face, slowly moving his snout lower, teasing down your neck until you feel his hot breath on your quivering breasts. “And I will make it fit, trust me.”

You're not sure that's a good thing. But you can't do anything against it now. You are trapped beneath him. Breathing harder, your chest moving rapidly against his relentless tongue as he laps around your hardening nipples, you try to relax under his ministrations, lying back, closing your eyes, white-knuckling the blanket. He shifts on top of you, keeping his maw near your chest as he lines his hips up with yours.

You feel one of his furry hands slipping between your legs, rubbing over your puffy labia, spreading them, coaxing a quiet moan out of you as one clawed finger dips into your hole. Your eyes flutter open again. He looks up then, watching you out of these black eyes, so intense he seems to stare right into your soul, and when he retrieves his finger, you notice out of the corner of your eye how he grips his big cock, strokes it slowly, before pressing its pointy tip between your folds.

You hold your breath, trying to relax while also bracing for his penetration, your muscles already confused as they are. He pushes in then, slowly, almost carefully, and you feel the stretch as soon as his tip disappears inside you. A groan escapes you when he rolls his hips against you, and more and more of his large cock presses into your tight channel, bullying his way deeper. You're whimpering under his scrutinizing gaze as he watches you closely, seemingly looking for any sign of distress, even though he also doesn't seem to mind it too much as you gasp and yelp in pain whenever he forces another inch into you.

His hands circle your head as he leans over you, his wet nose rubbing at your neck. “You're doing great, little Red,” he huffs into your skin, keeping that slow and steady rhythm of moving his pelvis back and forth. “You can do this. You were made for this.”

You wail in response, turning your head to the side, exposing your neck to him, but also to look away from the beast ravaging you. If you focus your mind on the feel, you can almost imagine being fucked by a very bulky man with a very thick and veiny cock, and the thought makes it a little easier. Squeezing your eyes shut as he squeezes the last inches (or so you hope) of his large member into you, you are quickly overwhelmed by it all.

Quiet sobs fall from your trembling lips. You feel so incredibly full, so stretched, his cock taking up any available space inside you. You can feel the tapered tip pressing against your cervix, poking at it as if wanting to go deeper. It's a strange hurt, a sharp pain that turns into a weird comfort, almost-pleasure, as your muscles clench around the unfamiliar intruder. For now he is just resting there, heavy on top of you, heavy inside of you, but then, he starts moving.

You squeak like a slaughtered pig when he withdraws slowly before slamming his hips back against you, hammering his cock deep into you, forcing his way through your tense muscles. He gives you a moment to breathe between his thrusts, but only for so long, until he repeats the motion, over and over again. A slow drag along your walls, a forceful slam back into your depths, out and in, pause, out and in, pause, and despite the ever repeating rhythm you yelp out every time, surprised all over again by the sharp pain crashing through your body.

And it's not just his tip bullying your deepest points, it's that strange bulb at the base of his cock that nudges against your pussy lips with every deep plunge. What's it called? A knot? You don't know much about the matter, why would you ever be interested in animal anatomy, but you wish you could do a quick google or something to ease your mind at the strange sensations. Not that it would change anything.

He keeps pounding into you, always increasing his pace a little bit, slowly taking away your little breathing breaks, until he is hammering into you with full speed, just like the feral beast that he is, and all you can do is whine and wail and moan and mewl, unable to think, unable to breathe, unable to do anything but take it. You're squirming beneath him, both trying to get away from his ruthless assault and maybe, possibly, trying to match his rhythm to make it somewhat better for yourself.

His large form looms over you, his low grunts and growls loud in your ear as he nuzzles at your neck, bent over like he is, resting on his elbows, caging you in even further. Your hands shoot up to grip at his fur, and you even raise your twitching legs to steady them as you hook them around his strong thighs. It does help to be able to hold onto him like you do, without any limb moving about bonelessly, and the longer you cling to him, finally meeting his thrusts with snaps of your own hips, it starts to feel really good really fast.

Before you know it, you're arching against him, clawing at his back, gasping and sobbing and panting as the heat gathers inside you, burning through your nerves like wildfire, setting everything ablaze, and every rapid thrust spirals you higher and higher, building up that tension in your stomach that is sure to explode at any second. When it does, you are not ready.

A shrill scream rips from your throat as you press your back into the makeshift bed and stiffen beneath him, your mouth wide open as you squeeze your eyes shut. Warmth spreads inside you, forcing its way past the rapidly pistoning cock pummeling your clenching muscles, and it's like a tidal wave, not soothing as it laps against the shore, but destructive, powerful, all-consuming. It drags you along, threatens to drown you, pulls and pushes you as you lose all control over your convulsing body.

Your orgasm crashes through you with a blinding force, letting you forget anything around as it engulfs you in sparkling lights and mind-numbing bliss. By the time it subsides slowly, you can already feel it building up all over again as he just continues to fuck you in his relentless rhythm, hammering his cock deep into you, grunting on top of you, his maw parted as he growls, slobber glistening on his razor sharp teeth, his tongue hanging out lewdly.

But before he propels you into the next orgasm, he suddenly leans up, propped on his strong arms, licking his furry lips as he stares down at you. You may look up at him out of hooded eyes but you can't really see him, just this large shadow above you, but you do feel when he suddenly leaps back, pulls out with a force that coaxes another scream out of you as he rips his large cock from between your tight muscles. You writhe a little, groaning in frustration as your orgasm deflates, as that empty feeling settles in.

Though you don't have to lament the loss of his cock for too long as he grabs your waist and manhandles (wolfhandles?) you onto your hands and knees, at least he hopes you'd stay like this, but your body is too limp to fully function, and so you sink onto your chest, arms outstretched, face buried in the soft blankets, ass raised on shaking knees, your cloak tangled around you. He grips the fabric, strangling you for a moment before he notices his mistake and rips it right off you, making you gasp.

His large hand is on your head as he turns it to the side. You can feel his wet nose poking at your cheek. “I'm gonna breed you now, little one, and you will take it all, yes?” You blink at his words, so low they're only vibrations through your head, and you wonder if you heard him correctly. “I will pump you full and keep you on my knot until it sticks, you hear me?” Clearly you didn't, because... what now?

You squirm beneath him, trying to get up on your elbows at least, but he holds you down, one large hand on your nape as he shifts behind you, his fur brushing against the backs of your thighs before he nudges his knee between your legs and pushes them further apart. You can sense the heat of his cock before it even gets in contact with your core, and when it pushes inside you again, it feels like a knife cutting through melted butter.

You cry out, arching your back, jerking your hips away, but he is ruthless. He's carved his way into your cunt, but there's still a bit of resistance before you can take him as deep as he desires. He doesn't care though, just pounds into you with hard and fast thrusts, in and out, a rapid rutting accompanied by wild panting, and all you can do is grunt and moan too, your body pushed up and down the blankets. His hands move to your waist, claws digging into your soft flesh as he drags your hips back when he slams his against your cushioned rear, forcing his cock deeper still.

Your head is spinning, your heart thundering, and slowly, the burning pain turns into overwhelming pleasure. He's bullying your cervix again, plunging in and out with languid strokes, and you're so aroused by now that the only sound aside from your heavy breaths is the loud and lewd squelching of your wet cunt. It drives you insane how good it feels to be taken like this, bent over, a primal sensation, to be at the mercy of this beast. In this position, he hits all the right spots, and it's a blinding thing all around you as you come hard, crying out helplessly, hands digging into the blankets and pelts, body spasming against him.

He grunts as you clamp down on his cock, but he doesn't stop, he even moves faster, pushes harder, forces all of him into you. And despite your orgasmic haze you feel his knot pummeling against your entrance, trying to fit through. The pain cuts through the cotton in your mind, sharp little jolts whenever he pushes particularly deep, and when those throbbing bulbs suddenly breach you, as your muscles give way to the rest of his cock, you scream, first in agony at the stretching sensation, then again as another intense orgasm rips through you.

He lets out a low howl when your tight muscles clench around him, milking him for all he's worth, before he continues to snap his hips against your rear, bullying his knot deeper. If you felt full before, you are now close to bursting with how stuffed you are. You can barely breathe between all the gasps and whines, and he doesn't let you either as he continues his shallow rutting, his growls and grunts getting louder, more frantic, his clawed fingers digging into your flesh as he holds you against him.

You are again on the edge of pleasure, floating on that wave that threatens to consume you fully, when he suddenly stills, buried deep within you, tip squished right against your cervix, your cunt holding onto his knot as if you would drown without it, and you feel it throbbing, pulsing, swelling up, stretching you even further. Lightning crashes through the clouds of bliss, making you shriek, hot tears rolling down your already wet cheeks.

And then he grunts, leaning over you, snout nuzzling against your neck, burying in your hair, hot breath fanning over your skin as he gives you those tiny snaps of his hips, and your whole body moves with those motions, connected as you are. You feel him shaking above you before you feel something else deep inside you.

Spurt after spurt of hot cum shoots into the already cramped depths of your cunt, filling up quickly, but with his knot holding it all in place, it has no choice but to look for every nook and cranny it can find, pressing through the tiniest openings, and as it does, you shudder deeply, feeling ready to burst before yet another orgasm rips through you, leaving you shaking like a leaf, as his seed breaches into your womb, more and more, with every twitch of his cock, every pulse of his knot, rope after rope, filling you up until you feel completely bloated.

Somehow you manage to move a hand beneath you, rubbing against your usually soft tummy, but it's tense and hard, rounder than you remember it, and even though you should be terrified by it, you can only lie there and take it, as the wolf man above you leans on you and pumps you as full as he has promised. His breathing eases slowly, yours takes a lot longer to go back to normal, and with your heart thundering inside your heaving chest, you feel utterly exhausted.

He licks his tongue over your wet cheek, a sweet gesture among the feral breeding act, and you can't help but give him a tired smile as you try to look at him out of the corner of your eye. He huffs against you, resting his large head on your back as he relaxes – letting his body work for him, because you can still feel him throbbing, shooting more cum into you at irregular intervals, usually accompanied by a soft little roll of his hips, a little nudge to remind your tight cunt he's still very much stuck inside you.

You wonder how long this will last. But before you can think more about this animal rite, your eyelids grow heavier and the world turns black.

You wake with a shriek as you feel a particularly hard thrust hitting your bruised and probably dilated cervix, the sudden pain crashing through you like the stab of a knife. You're no longer kneeling on the makeshift bed, you're lying on your back on his wide body, legs fallen open over massive furry thighs, two strong arms holding you tightly in their grip, squishing your tender breasts. He's switched you around, huffing and puffing beneath you as he pushes his hips up in a slow but steady rhythm.

“Again?” you groan out, trying to squirm in his tight embrace.

“Not over yet, little one,” he growls into your ear, wet nose poking at your cheek as he shifts beneath you. “More to give.”

“Ugh,” you make, your head lolling back against his shoulder. “But I'm so full...”

“You can take more,” he tells you quietly, a low rumble in the air. One large hand moves down your body, firmly pressing against your bloated stomach. You moan in response, your own hand finding his, trying to feel the same he does.

It's unnatural, that's for sure. That bump should not look and feel like this after only one load of his seed. But then again – he is unnatural, everything about him is. Who knows how special his cum is. Though you really don't want to think about it. You don't want to get pregnant, no matter how hot the whole breeding thing may be in theory. And you probably won't anyway, he's a wolf (man), it sure won't be compatible, right? A groan escapes you as you shake your head to clear it. No more thinking.

Just enjoy his warmth, the way he holds you, moves inside you, locked on his knot for who knows how long. Despite it all it feels comforting, somehow even romantic in a way, to be connected like this. Inhaling deeply, you relax into his soft but also hard body, his fur feels nice against your sweaty skin, the bulging muscles beneath exuding strength and safety. A good bed, that's what he is, with the added bonus of a truly incredible cock that fills you out perfectly, rubbing you just the right way.

Another wave of exhaustion washes over you, alongside what feels like the gentlest orgasm you've ever experienced, a little tingling sensation, a burning deep within, a soothing caress. You sigh contently, closing your eyes, falling deeper into his embrace.

When you come to next, you feel a cold breeze against your face that makes your nose twitch. You seem to move, but your limbs are still out of order, and when you slowly fight your way back into consciousness, you realize you're being carried, with two strong hands holding your thighs up while you are still impaled by that unbelievably resilient cock. A groan escapes you.

“Calm down, little one,” the wolf man grunts into your ear as he walks through the dark basement. “Almost done now.”

“Does it always take this long?” you whisper, leaning into him, your hands grabbing his wrists to steady yourself.

“For the knot to go down? Well, you are particularly arousing, my little Red, I can't help it. Seems you are my special mate after all,” he hums deeply.

You turn your head slightly to look at him, raising an eyebrow. “Mate?”

“Yes, mate. I would have made you mine already, but I wanted to see how you can take me.” He inhales deeply as he presses his muzzle into your hair. “You did amazingly,” he adds, lapping at the shell of your ear. You shiver, squirming away with a surprised giggle that travels through your entire body, making you clench around his hard cock.

“Your stamina is really concerning,” you reply with a shake of your head. “Not sure I could do this again...”

“But you're still doing it, holding my knot so perfectly, keeping my seed inside you,” he huffs gently, licking along your neck as he turns around and walks back the way he came.

“Why are you walking in circles?” you wonder, moving your hands to your rounded stomach. Every movement seems to slosh its contents about. A strange feeling for sure.

“I can't keep you on it forever, I am afraid,” he says in a low rumble. “The moon is setting soon...”

You frown at his words, not even wondering what time it is right now, shifting in his hold to better look into his wolfish face. “And then what?”

“I'll turn into a man again,” he tells you, his dark eyes boring into yours. Something warm crashes through you.

“How is that a bad thing?” you blurt out, more excited about that prospect than you probably should be.

He huffs a low laugh, shaking his large head. “You wouldn't want to be near me when I do. It's painful even for me, and to have you stuck to me would be... devastating.”

“Oh,” you make, blinking as you process his words, chewing on the inside of your cheek.

“Let's try our luck, hm?” he then says, carrying you back to the makeshift bed.

He kneels down with you strapped to his chest like a newborn in a carry-on, and when he bends you forward, you brace yourself, resting on your hands and knees as he shifts behind you. His clawed fingers dig into your plump hips as he gives you a tentative nudge of his pelvis. You wince at the sensation, the stretch and pull on your tight muscles sending shivers down your spine.

His sigh is loud and warm around you, and apparently his knot is still too inflated to budge. Inhaling deeply, you buck your rear against him, trying to relax, ease your muscles, force his cock out of you. He seems to notice your efforts and starts pulling gently, grinding his hips, inching himself backwards. You still feel a sharp pain when his knot nudges against your tight entrance from within, but it's slowly widening, giving way, and when he pops out and slips free, you gasp and collapse on the bed, the sudden loss of pressure almost dizzying.

He lets out a low growl, his hand rubbing over your swollen pussy lips as you feel your muscles contracting around nothing, or rather the flood of cum that's bound to spill from your depths if he wouldn't hold his large palm there. He rolls you onto your side, snuggling against your back, before he pulls his fingers away, pressing your thighs together instead. His wet nose rubs against your jaw as he pulls his strong arms around you.

“Rest now, little one. Keep your legs closed,” he whispers, holding you tightly.

You're too exhausted to protest or care about any possible spillage or whatever consequences may result from this unusual coupling. None of it matters. Sleep does sound really good right about now. The wolf man relaxes behind you, his deep breaths slowly turning into loud snores, and you allow yourself to catch some Zs too. You'll need your strength. For something. Hmm. What was it again? Some sort of plan? Doesn't matter. It'll come to you. Now you just want to rest, let your body recover from whatever ordeal this has been. Knotted and bred by a werewolf. Pfft. What a silly dream...

Your eyes fly open as if someone has turned on the light in your empty mind, illuminating everything that's happened earlier. Oh. Oh God. Oh no! Your breaths accelerate, your heart beats faster as you realize where you are, in whose arms you're lying. His snores still echo through the cavernous room, your body molded to his larger frame, his arms tight around you.

Carefully you wriggle your way out of his embrace, listening closely to his rumbling sounds, but he seems too far gone to notice your frantic escape. You manage to slip from under his arms, your body aching when you move it, but you fight through the discomfort and slowly stand up on shaking legs. Immediately you feel something wet and sticky dripping down your thigh, and a quick touch to your bloated stomach tells you, you are still filled to the brim with werewolf cum. Fuck. This can't be happening.

Turning around, you see the furry beast slumbering away peacefully, his large body moving with every thundering snore. Once you got your bearings, you start looking around the room until you find some clothes. Not yours though, but a big plaid shirt that you slip into. It reaches almost to your knees, so it'll have to do. When your eyes fall on the red cloak next to the makeshift bed, you hesitate, but then you leave it behind. Let him have a small remembrance of your special night.

At least you find your shoes, and once you're ready to leave, you throw a last glance back at the monster. He's still fast asleep, and you almost regret having to leave, but you can't just live in some cave or basement with a werewolf, letting him pump you full of cum to carry his pups or whatever it is he expects of you, no matter how mind-blowing the experience has been.

Biting your lip, you turn around and try to find a way out, and surprisingly enough, he didn't lock you in. After climbing a set of stairs, you find yourself in a small cabin, and when you try the front door, it just opens. Stepping outside into the night (which surprises you, you were almost certain you were stuck on his damn knot for a day or more, or so it felt), you fight the shivers, snuggling into the large shirt that smells like him, a comforting scent that doesn't make it easier to leave.

But you do, trying to find your way through the darkness. The moon is nowhere to be seen, it may just be a cloudy night, or it really was close to setting, you can't be sure, and frankly, it doesn't concern you anymore. You gotta move on, get back to the house, ask someone to call you an Uber...

As you suddenly realize you have no idea where your purse is, you stumble onto a better lit path, but the sight of what awaits you at the end makes you shiver deeply. It's a graveyard.

1 🔸 2 🔸 3 🔸 4 🔸 5 🔸 6 🔸 7

You've come to a (literal) dead end. Or have you?

No, just keep going...

But you can always go back to the beginning and choose another door. Back in the hallway, here are your options:

Reach for the door closest to you.

Go through the door a few feet on your right.

Notes: I'd like to thank @moongurl95 for planting this idea into my head! Thank you so much for sharing your open-ended dream, it really inspired this whole adventure, but particularly this part! I hope I could fill in the blanks! <3

MASTERLIST // AO3 // ORIGINAL WORKS

KINKTOBER 2024 MASTERLIST

630 notes · View notes

corazondebeskar-reads · 9 months ago

Text

of rage and ruin masterlist

of rage and ruin - ongoing

werewolf!alpha!Joel Miller x f!omega!reader

summary: Joel Miller made it twelve years into the apocalypse without getting bit. He turns into a much different kind of monster than he expected, though.

dividers by @saradika-graphics

also on ao3

series warnings: dark, dead dove do not eat, a/b/o, alpha/omega dynamics, omegaverse, captivity, torture, forced proximity, non-con/dub-con (due to the nature of heats), canon-typical violence, genre-typical violence, horror themes, monster fucking, graphic violence, graphic depictions of injuries, suicidal ideation, gore, unprotected sex, oral, vaginal, heats, knotting, abuse by captors (not by either joel or reader), death, murder of innocent people, typical raider/hunter behavior, sexual assault/abuse by captors, mention of cordyceps, angst, hurt/comfort, no y/n, reader is able-bodied and afab with no specific descriptions, viewer discretion is advised

reader notes: no y/n, no name, no description. reader is able-bodied and afab, uses she/her. joel can lift reader but he's a werewolf with superstrength so it's not indicative of body type. reader has no living family.

This is an omegaverse au. It contains typical and altered elements of a/b/o tropes.

You are responsible for the media you consume. Read at your own risk.

This story does not have a set publication schedule or a predetermined number of chapters.

chapter one

chapter two

chapter three

chapter four

chapter five

chapter six

chapter seven

chapter eight

chapter nine: tba

chapter ten: tba

chapter eleven: tba

chapter twelve: tba

*title from "Bad Moon Rising" by Creedence Clearwater Revival

As always, if you'd like to read but have concerns about triggers/themes/deaths, my DMs are always open.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x f!reader #alpha!joel x omega!reader #alpha!joel miller #a/b/o au #alpha!joel miller x omega!reader #werewolf!joel miller #werewolf joel miller #the last of us fic #dead dove fic #fic: of rage and ruin

549 notes · View notes

toomanystoriessolittletime · 1 year ago

Text

Claimed

Summary: While on the run from raiders and their twisted game of hide and seek you get saved in the last minute by a creature you only thought existed in books. You knew you should be scared, yet you could not find it in you as you looked into the warm brown eyes of a wolf that seemed way too human to be a monster, letting him have you and your body, letting him claim you. Waking up in a cabin the next morning you think it was all a dream, wanting to move on until Tommy and Joel Miller find you in that cabin, offering you to stay in a town called Jackson.

Pairing: Werewolf! Joel Miller x fem. reader

Rating: E

Wordcount: 5.4k

Warnings: monster fucking (dub con -> enthusiastic consent; basically she's really into it once she's awake) angst, threats of SA, violence, death, smut (Somnophilia; oral sex f receiving; unprotected sex, knotting, cumplay), successful breeding, so much guilt, fluff, Joel is bad at feelings

follow @toomanystoriessolittletime-fics an turn on notifications to get notified for new fic updates

You were cold. Cold and hungry. Exhausted and, most of all, scared.

You didn’t know exactly how long you had been running. The four men pursuing you had found you and your group a day (or three?) before, had killed everyone except for you, telling you to run for your life after stripping you of most of your clothes.

Like some sick fucking game.

Then again, ever since the outbreak, everything seemed to be a game of life and death. It wasn’t long until humanity showed its ugly face, and (mostly) men lived out their sick, primitive fantasies without the fear of any kind of punishment.

You could hear them outside, laughing and snickering, fantasising about the sick things they would do to you if they found you. How they would decide if you were allowed to stay alive and become their pet, or if they would kill you.

The sun had set hours ago, the only light source outside the full moon high on the cloudless sky. You were hiding under a trapdoor in a barn that looked like it might collapse the next time it rained. Though if you had to guess, you think it’d snow before it rained.

It had to be November by now, Wyoming cooling down to a fucking freezer overnight, your teeth clattering as you shivered.

They had only left you in your shoes and underwear. You had picked up an old jacket as you ran into an abandoned cabin the day before. Then you found a thin blanket that you currently had wrapped around your cold legs, the smell coming from it making it hard to breathe without feeling nauseous.

Your fingers were wrapped around a rusty piece of metal you had found down here, not really knowing if you’d use it on the raiders or yourself before they got their hands on you.

Though the thought crossed your mind that you being dead probably wouldn’t stop them from…

You closed your eyes, taking a deep breath. In your head, you hummed the lullaby your mother used to sing to you whenever you felt anxious as you were growing up.

You didn’t dream of seeing her again one day anymore. You buried that hope after twenty years of whatever life you had lived since the outbreak. You liked to imagine she had a quick death once things started going downhill. You had been on vacation with your best friend in New York City when it all happened. You still had no idea how you made it out of there alive.

“Come out, come out, wherever you are…” one of the men mocked you, his voice way too close for comfort. You wrapped a hand over your mouth, trying to be as quiet as possible in hopes he would just move on and leave you here to… probably die from hypothermia. Still a better death than what they had planned.

You heard the footsteps getting closer before there was an earth-shattering scream outside, followed by growling.

“What the fuck is going on there? Did the bitch cut your balls off, Clark?” The men who must be standing right above you right now yelled outside. There was a roar followed by a howl outside, and you closed your eyes.

“Clark? Will?” The man above you called out, but there was no answer.

“You better not be fucking with me, you assholes,” he said, his footsteps moving away from you. You allowed yourself to release a shuddering breath, pulling the blanket tighter around you.

Another scream outside, followed by a loud howl, before there was only silence.

Minutes went by, and you were pretty sure whatever was out there had probably killed the men that were after you. Yet you couldn’t bring yourself to risk getting out of your hiding spot to seek shelter somewhere else. Or find another blanket.

You had no idea how to survive out here on your own. You hadn’t eaten in two days, only barely found something to drink while running.

Maybe whatever was out there would make your death quick, and you could rest. The thought of getting a good night’s sleep made you sigh as you felt your mind slowly slip into darkness.

Yet before you could let your mind rest, the trapdoor above you was ripped open, and you jumped, suddenly blinded by how bright the moon illuminated the night. You blinked against the sudden light, gasping when you found a creature looking down at you, big brown eyes fixated on you.

It was standing on two legs, fur covering the whole body, the teeth sharp, reflecting the moonlight.

It looked like a wolf. A huge fucking wolf, yet there was something human about it.

You should have been scared, you should have been screaming, but somehow you didn’t, overcome with the feeling of being safe the longer you looked into its eyes.

“You’re so pretty,“ you mumbled. “Are you here to kill me?“

The creature’s eyes widened before his massive head shook from side to side, as if saying no. You smiled softly at that.

“You’re a good doggy,” you sighed, your eyes slipping closed. And you could swear the last thing you heard was an amused roar before your mind slipped into unconsciousness.

You felt…. Warm.

You didn’t know the last time you felt warm, which left you to the conclusion that you must have died.

You were lying on something soft, surrounded by warmth.

A satisfied moan slipped through your lips in the next moment, still half asleep, and you felt your body shuddering. Your hands ran over your body, your fingers slipping down your stomach before your eyes opened slowly, looking down just in time to see why you woke up, your pussy throbbing as an orgasm rushed through your body, making you arch your back and cry out as you looked between your thighs to find big brown eyes looking up at you.

You thought you dreamed the wolf you remembered saving you before, but it was him.

“You’re… You’re real…“ you whispered, your hand hesitantly reaching out, your fingers meeting the soft fur of the animal between your legs. It was real. He was real. The wolf was real, and he was here, and he was…

The wolf seemed to lean into your touch, his eyes seemingly trying to communicate with you, his expression torn before he growled, his eyes closing.

“Oh shit,“ you whispered, slowly noticing that you were stripped completely naked, big strong and furry arms wrapped around your thighs, keep you lying on the mattress beneath you.

You should be scared, you know you should. Yet you weren’t. Instead, you felt the safest you ever did. The big nose of the wolf nuzzled against your pussy, and you moaned quietly, your chest heaving as you took a deep breath.

You should fight, run, scream, yet you wanted more.

You wanted this creature to own you, to claim you. To be his. It seemed like the only thought in your mind the longer you looked into its eyes.

The wolf kept his dark eyes on yours, his cold nose nuzzling against your pussy until you felt his big tongue lick through your slit.

“Oh fuck,“ you let yourself fall back down against the ground, the hand that had been touching the wolf coming up to your breast, squeezing it, playing with your nipple, noticing something… sticky on your chest. Bringing your fingers up, looking at them and the creamy substance on your fingers, your eyes found the wolf, finding him watching you intently.

The long warm tongue kept licking you almost softly, the wet nose rubbing over your clit.

Keeping your eyes on his, you brought your fingers to your mouth, your tongue darting out to taste it. The wolf growled, his eyes seemingly getting even darker as you tasted what you thought was his cum. You hummed, licking your fingers clean, the wolf’s tongue moving faster, making your legs twitch.

His big claws dug warningly into the soft skin of your thighs, before his tongue forced its way inside your pussy.

Your lips parted as you cried out in ecstasy, the feeling foreign yet so fucking good as the big tongue of the wolf moved inside of you.

Biting your lips, you tried to keep quiet, panting for air as his tongue brushed over something inside of you that made you cry out in pleasure.

“There… Fuck… Right there,“ you whined, trying to move your hips under his grip, but he growled, his tongue fixated on that one spot inside of you until you moaned loudly, your whole body shaking as you came hard, soaking the wolf between your legs as you squirted for the first time in your life.

With your chest heaving, you slumped back against the mattress, panting as you tried to process what just happened.

The wolf licked you clean softly before his claws let go of your thighs. You opened your eyes, watching him when you felt his tongue licked over your upper thigh, only noticing now that one of his claws must have nabbed your skin, drawing a tiny bit of blood he licked off.

You were watching him, your eyes widening as the wolf slowly got on his feet, towering above you in his full height.

He was breathtaking. Literally.

Your eyes dropped to his cock, leaking with pre cum and standing proudly against his stomach.

It was… definitely not human.

It was dark red, at least 9 inches long. You probably could not close your fist around it, the girth was too big. But it was the knot that made you suck in your bottom lip, worrying.

He was breathing deeply, his eyes fixed on your form, almost pleading to you, but you did not know for what.

“It’s… It’s okay,“ you whispered, slowly sitting yourself up. It was almost like the wolf was shaking his head.

“It’s okay. Take what you want.“

The moment those words slipped out of your mouth, Joel knew he had lost the last bit of control he had over his actions. He got on all fours, his face hovering over you and your beautiful eyes.

You didn’t know the inner fight he had put on for hours since bringing you here.

Joel was a man who always made more than sure that whatever he did with the person he was with, they were giving him enthusiastic consent before he touched them.

But right now, Joel wasn’t a man.

He was a creature of the night, his instincts reduced to his animalistic primal needs.

He had made you cum twice before you even woke up, high on your taste, wanting more and more. Fuck he had even jerked off, shooting his cum all over your body like the animal he was.

He’d never fucked anyone in this form before, and while a part of him hated the lack of control he had over how he behaved right now, another part was ready to be inside of you.

“Mhhh….“ he heard you hum, your fingers stroking through his fur, and Joel was sure he’d purr if you continued to touch him.

But his cock was aching, and you were oh so soft and wet.

And ready to breed.

He leaned down, his nose nuzzling against your neck, inhaling you deeply before he looked deep into your eyes, ready to take what was his.

The wolf began to lick your upper body, focusing on your breasts, making you whimper, your fingers pulling on the fur of his arms. Slowly you let your hand slip down your body, your eyes widening when you came in contact with his cock, gasping softly.

The wolf looked up at you, grunting as you tried to wrap your hand around it, your hand too small.

You felt the wolf lick your cheek, and you looked up at him, wondering what he was thinking.

Taking a deep breath, you laid back, parting your legs for him even wider.

The wolf was actively looking between your pussy and his claws, and you wondered if the man inside him would be putting his fingers inside of you if he was able to. He closed his eyes as you guided his cock towards your pussy.

“Try to be gentle, yeah? At least at first…“ you hummed and sucked your bottom lip between your teeth, your eyes falling shut as the tip of his cock entered you ever so slowly. You stopped breathing. You didn’t know if it was seconds or hours until your pussy was stretched around his hot cock, the knot just outside of your pussy.

He waited until you relaxed, letting you get used to his size.

The wolf leaned down, his fur brushing against your skin, looking deeply into your eyes before he bottomed out and began to move. His cock slowly dragging through your walls, the foreign shape stretching you out and hitting all the right spots.

You held on to the broad shoulders of the creature fucking you slowly.

“Harder,“ you moaned quietly, trying to move your hips up, but the wolf growled, pinning you against the ground. He stilled inside of you before he pulled out of you.

Before you could react, he had you turned around, pulling you up so you were on your hands and knees, his cock entering you from behind in one hard thrust, making you cry out.

He fucked into you deeply, pumping his cock inside you, his claws holding on to your hips, keeping you where he wanted you.

“Oh fuck,“ you cried out, letting yourself fall down to your elbows, your head falling against the mattress.

The wolf howled, and you felt his cock throbbing, the pointed tip kissing your cervix, making your legs shake.

You felt so fucking full, his cock stretching you just right.

“I’m gonna cum,“ you whined, meeting his thrusts, and you screamed when you came, clenching around his cock. Fucking you through your orgasm, he leaned over your body, his fur brushing over your naked back. Aftershocks of your orgasm were still running through your body when you heard the wolf growl, the cock inside you seemed to get even bigger before he howled, his knot pushing inside of you, filling you with his cum and keeping it inside of you.

You felt his strong, soft arms wrapping around your middle before he slowly pulled you to your side, his cock still stuck inside of you, steadily filling you with his cum.

Breeding you.

You shuddered at the thought, feeling him lick your neck softly, pulling you even closer, keeping you warm.

The last thing you remember thinking before you fell asleep was that you wished you’d known his name…..

When you woke up, you found yourself under a mountain of blankets. Your memory was a little foggy, but you knew someone… or something had saved you. And from the soreness you felt all over your body, you were beginning to think you did not dream of the wolf who had taken you last night.

Your lips parted as you realised there was a fire cracking in the small fireplace. You sat up, looking down at yourself, noticing that you were now wearing a soft Flannel. You brought the fabric up to your nose, surprised when you found it smelling clean with a hint of… wood. It reminded you of how your uncle had smelled when he returned from his job at the local wood factory.

“Hello?” You called out, silence meeting you.

There was a full bottle of what looked like water next to the old sofa you had slept on. Opening the lid carefully, you smelled it, confirming it was water. It could be drugged, your mind provided. But you were too thirsty to care, almost chugging the whole bottle down before slowly pushing yourself up to stand.

You were wearing thick wool socks, your legs still naked. You brushed your fingers over a mark on your inner thigh.

Confused, you began to explore the room.

It had been cleared out, but for some reason, you did not think someone actually lived here. There was, however, food on the table. Just a can of old beans and a fork.

Narrowing your eyes, you eyed the can, your hands gripping the back of the chair that was tucked against the old wooden table. Looking down at your hands, you had grabbed something soft, finding yourself looking at an old, worn pair of sweatpants.

You began to feel like you were in the twilight zone, waiting for someone to jump out of a corner.

For him to find you in whatever form he was this morning.

Sucking your bottom lip in, you looked around again before you slowly slipped your legs into the sweatpants, finding them way too big. But they were warm and soft, and you sighed in relief.

Which didn’t last long, because you heard voices outside.

Frantically looking around, you found the rusty piece of metal you had with you when you had hidden the night before, grabbing it.

You moved behind the door as silently as possible, the voices coming closer.

“We’re not here to kill you,” someone called out. A man.

You heard that before.

“I know you have no reason to trust us. But we’re here to help.”

He could smell her.

Her and her flowery scent that seemed to drive him to insanity ever since he crossed it two days ago.

Due to his… other self, his senses were always better than those of an average human, but in the week leading up to the full moon, they seemed to sharpen even further. It was why he and Tommy always went out on their monthly trip to the radio tower that lasted three days when they really just used the full moon to hunt down infected and people who would potentially bring harm to Jackson.

He had been tracking three men, raiders, their scent full of adrenaline and arousal, when he came across your scent. Frightened, dehydrated, but so flowery and sweet that it was the only thing he could think about.

Still in his human form, he had seen you, almost naked, running frantically through the woods. Away from them.

He had kept an eye on you, the animal in him taking over, his urge to protect you taking over. Yet he waited until the next night, his wolf form making him stronger, to take your attackers out one by one, making it as painful as possible.

And then you were in his arms. Cold, unconscious, yet so so beautiful.

He brought you to the cabin he and Tommy had cleared out the month after he got to Jackson, setting you down on the couch.

Pulling a blanket over you, he was thankful for the fire Tommy must have lit when he had been here earlier, carefully putting another log of wood into the fire to keep it going.

Making his way back to you, he was overcome with the urge to have you back in his arms. Carefully, he pulled you against him, and you seemed to seek his warmth, your fingers digging into his fur.

Looking out, he counted that he had around three hours until the sun came up, and he’d change back to his human form.

He knew he should have left you there. He should have gone out, leaving you safe and unharmed.

He wished he could blame everything that happened in the cabin on his wolf side. The wolf side knew he had to have you because you were ready to breed. It’s why you smelled so sweet and irresistible for him. You were ovulating and ready to bear his offspring. But Joel was still inside. He knew what he was doing. And he tried to stop initially, but it was a fight he quickly let himself lose, getting lost in you. And the worst part was he enjoyed every single second. The way you held on to him. The way you tasted. The way you looked when you came. The way you smiled as he pumped you full of his cum, just before you passed out again.

Joel sighed, following his brother as he approached the house slowly. Joel could smell you. Adrenaline cursing through your veins.

“I’m Tommy, and this is my brother Joel,” Tommy stopped in front of the house, holding his hands up.

“We come from a community not far from here. We have water, electricity, food…”

Joel’s heart seemed to stop the moment he heard your voice.

“How do you even know I’m here?” You asked. Tommy’s eyes found Joel’s.

“We have cameras set up around the patrol route, and we saw you on one of them,” he lied easily.

Joel and Tommy had talked about what to tell you. Tommy knew from the moment they met up after the moon disappeared, smelling you all over him.

He did not ask questions when Joel told him they had to go get you from the cabin.

They both had their fair share of things they weren’t the most proud of, both as humans and werewolves. Tommy knew better than anyone else how hard it was to keep yourself in control when all the monster in you wanted was to claim someone.

It was how he met Maria.

Thankfully it all turned out for the best in the end, but still, Joel felt like a fucking monster.

The door opened, and you stepped out carefully, holding up the piece of metal he had found you with last night in front of you. You were wearing his shirt.

Mine.

His pants.

Mine.

He could smell himself all over you.

Mine.

He wondered if he was still dripping out of you.

“Cameras? You… You know how I got here?” You asked, your heartbeat quickened.

Tommy shook his head.

“No. The cameras only activate once you’re inside the cabin.”

“Oh,” you nodded, hesitating.

“Did you…. See something weird?”

“Just you pretty much passing out,” Tommy lied again.

“Weird,” you whispered to yourself, but both Joel and Tommy could hear it.

“So… what do you say? Care to join us?” Tommy asked.

“I… I should not trust strangers. But these last days have been… I’m still not quite sure how I survived…” you shook your head, your arms hugging yourself.

“You are welcome to wait out until patrol gets here. My wife will be with them, she’s kind of the leader of our little community,” Tommy said.

Your heartbeat slowed down.

“You’re married?” She asked with a small smile. Tommy nodded, his smile wide.

“Married and about to become a dad. Well… still a couple months to go, but, yeah.”

You nodded.

“What about your brother? Joel, was it?” You asked.

There was something familiar about the broad man standing just behind Tommy. He hadn’t looked at you directly once, but something told you you knew him.

“It’s complicated,” he said, and a shiver ran through your whole body, hearing his voice.

You swallowed.

“I haven’t heard that since college,” you joked.

“You went to college?” Tommy asked.

“Yeah. I was 19 when the outbreak happened,” you said.

“Did anyone make it?” Tommy asked.

You closed your eyes, shaking your head.

“Whole family is dead. The people I was with… Raiders killed them before they made me…” you shook your head, missing the way Joel’s whole body stiffened as he tried to control his anger.

“I’m so sorry,” Tommy said, and you sighed.

“Well. I should have learned not to get too attached to people. It’s a luxury nowadays to have someone.”

“Maybe you’ll have more luck in our community,” Tommy winked, and you took a deep breath. What other choices did you really have?

You were tired and weak, and maybe you had hallucinated having sex with a… wolf?

Because if they had cameras inside the cabin and last night really happened… You felt your cheeks growing warm, a throbbing between your legs.

You looked at Joel again, his eyes now on you. Brown eyes that seemed to look right into your soul, making you part your lips in a gasp.

Was it him?

He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath, not looking at you again.

“What do you say, darlin’?” Tommy asked, and you did not miss the way Joel’s head snapped to look at his brother, glaring at him.

Tommy smirked.

“I think I would kill for a hot shower,” you said with a small smile.

“When are you gonna stop hovering like a mother hen and go tell her?” Joel almost jumped as he heard his brother’s voice behind him. He was hiding out of sight from you, watching how you helped Maria with some garden work.

It had been 16 nights since he had you, 15 days since you moved into the house next to his, and it had been pure hell. Being so close to you but not touching you. He took care of you in his own way, from afar. Meals showing up in front of your door, so he was sure you ate. Sending his brother over to fix up the house, because he did not know if he could hold himself back if he was so close to you.

He had done some reading the day before, not understanding why he felt like this.

Now, there wasn’t, like, some kind of How to be a Werewolf for Dummies book around, but what he found made him realise that you probably were his mate. He never felt like this before, his body physically hurting when he did not know where you were.

He wondered if you felt it, too. If you felt the changes…

“Tell her what?” Joel grumbled.

“You could start with telling her that you’re sorry that you behaved like a dick, then start with explaining to her that once a month you turn into a werewolf and that yes, it was you that fucked her. And then you could congratulate her that she’s pregnant,” Tommy listed, and Joel growled.

He had known he had bred you the moment he had changed back the morning after, his guilty conscience killing him ever since.

Not only that he took advantage of you, no, he claimed you, bred you, and it took everything in him not to make you his officially.

Joel shook his head.

“She’s gonna hate me. And fuck… A baby? I’m way too old to raise a child…”

“I don’t know, big brother, you’re doing a great job with Ellie. Any kid would be fortunate to have you as their dad,” Tommy said surprisingly softly.

Joel took a deep breath, watching you wave Maria goodbye as you walked down the street towards home.

“Okay,” Joel said, straightening his shoulders before he followed you home.

You were surprised when you came home and did not find food on your doorstep, if you were honest. You had asked Maria if finding food was normal. It wasn’t.

You had a suspicion as to who it was leaving it, but you had not found the confidence to ask him.

It was like every thought was filled with Joel since you saw his eyes. And even though it sounded insane, you were almost certain that the wolf from the night who claimed you and the man who seemed unable to look into your eyes afterward were the same person.

He felt familiar, like you knew each other, and it was getting harder each day to not be with him. You had never felt like this before, pining over a man who was not only much older than you but who you had never really talked to before.

Shaking your head, you stared at your reflection in the mirror before you washed your face. Tomorrow, you would start working at the greenhouse, and you wanted to make a good impression, which was why you decided to go to bed early.

You were brushing your teeth when you heard a knock on your door. Frowning to yourself, your body buzzing as if it knew who it was, you spit the toothpaste into the sink before you pulled the shirt you had from the cabin over your head and walked towards the door.

His eyes were on you as you walked over to your door, a nervous flutter in your belly as you slowly pulled the door open.

He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath before he looked at you, his jaw flexing.

“Hi Joel,“ you said quietly, your hand wrapped around the side of your door.

His eyes seemed to soften as he looked at you.

“Can… Can we talk?“ He asked.

Taken by surprise, you nodded.

“Would you like to come in?“

He could hear you in your kitchen, cluttering as you prepared him some tea. You had only been in this town, this house, for a week, and it already felt more homey than the house he lived in for the last years. Ever since Ellie moved out, he did not like spending time alone in his house. Something was missing.

You were missing.

“I hope you like peppermint,“ you said as you came back into your living room. He didn’t, but he would never tell you.

“Thank you,“ he said, nervous all of a sudden.

You sat down on the other side of the couch from him, pulling your legs against your chest as you looked at him.

“What did you want to talk about?“ You asked.

He took a moment to think about what to say, not really sure how to start.

“Is it about the… the night we met?“ he heard you ask carefully, and he turned his head to look at you, surprised.

“I thought it was a dream at first. How I woke up during the night. I thought I might be losing my mind, but… But I wasn’t, right?“ you asked.

He took a deep breath, before he shook his head.

“You weren’t. I.. I saved you. I killed those… monsters, only to…“

He felt your hand on his.

“Is that why you were ignoring me? Because you…“

“I took advantage of you! You smelled so sweet, and you were so soft… And I usually can control myself, I know what is happening, but I couldn’t around you. I had to… I have to have you. It’s like…. “

“Like you don’t feel whole when you’re not around me? Yeah. That’s how I feel too,“ you said quietly, and he raised his eyebrows in surprise.

“You do?“

You nodded.

“You’re not… scared of me?“ he asked.

You giggled, slipping closer to him.

“Joel, you saved my life, and then you made me cum four times. Was I a little out of it? Maybe. But I don’t regret it.“

“Good… That’s… That’s… good…“ he mumbled, closing his eyes as he felt your warm hand on his cheek, turning his head towards you.

“You’re so pretty,“ you mumbled, and he chuckled.

“That’s the first thing you said to me that night,“ and he was still surprised about it.

“It’s true. It’s… I always knew there was more out there than just us. Well and walking mushrooms that are trying to kill us. And I might have read my fair share of fantasy books.“

“Yeah?“ he asked, his hand coming to rest on your thigh. You nodded.

“It’s hot,“ you shrugged before you leaned in and kissed him softly.

He rested his forehead against yours, breathing you in.

“I have to tell you something else,“ he said.

“What?“ you whispered.

“The reason why I couldn’t control myself was because my senses are heightened when I’m in my wolf form. And I… could smell that you were ovulating, which is why everything in my head screaming at me to… breed… you….“

Your lips parted, and he could practically hear you processing what he had just said.

“And… And…. Would you… Would you know if you bred me?“ you asked.

He nodded.

“Then I guess I should tell you that twin pregnancies are common in my family line,“ you said.

He huffed a laugh before he felt you climb into his lab.

“I think you should take me out on a date,“ you mumbled.

“Yeah?“

“Yeah,“ you nodded, before you leaned in and kissed him.

#my fic #Joel Miller #Joel Miller x fem. reader #Pedro Pascal #tlou fanfic #fanfiction #fanfic #fan fiction #werewolf au #werewolf joel miller

666 notes · View notes

jksprincess10 · 5 months ago

Text

Something in the shadows || 5. limbo

Summary: When a girl is found by Ellie just outside of Jackson, covered in what seems to be scratches from a beast, the community realizes that the infected might not be the only monsters out there.

CWs: Dark!Joel, monster!Joel, werewolf!Joel, NOT an omegaverse fic, fated mates, DUBCON, murders, gore, dark and horror themes, overprotective!joel, explicit smut, FMC without a name and a physical description (it's you baby), unspecified age gap, no y/n.

(3k words)

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

Fic masterlist

Notification blog

She woke up to a cold, empty bed. She didn’t know what she had expected from a man like Joel – but part of her was still sad to wake up alone. The only reminders of Joel – bruises on her shoulder and her hips, where he had held her too strongly. As a reminder of her assault, her lip was split, blood had dried on it.

She dressed appropriately and walked slowly to the end of the hallway, where Joel’s room was also empty.

“I think he’s already up, I heard Tommy earlier.” Ellie’s voice startled her.

“Oh, thanks, Ellie.”

The older teen looked at her weirdly, up and down. “No offense, but you look like shit. You okay?”

“Yeah. Rough night… nightmares.” She lied effortlessly.

“Cool. I was just heading to the farm, catch you later.”

And with a last, weird look, the teenager climbed down the stairs. When she was free of her presence, she disappeared into the bathroom. Moving too much hurt.

“You have to tell me what the fuck happened, Joel. You’re scaring me, brother.”

The Tipsy Bison had been condemned when what remained of the bodies had been discovered by Tommy. Joel froze with pure dread as he discovered the bodies. He remembered telling her he would take care of it… and then everything was blurry. He thought he had just… talked to them. But the truth was much, much darker. The boys were disfigured, reduced to pure meat. He couldn’t have done that.

“I don’t know, Tommy.” Joel’s voice was rough, hiding an uncertainty. “I just… I talked to them, okay?”

“Talked to them?!” Tommy responded incredulously. “There is nothing left, Joel.”

The older brother’s hand trailed down his own face as he tried but failed to remember. There was a big gap between the moment where had taken care of her, then had come home to fuck her.

“This can’t be me. Do ya think I’m… I’m some sort of monster? Do ya think I could’ve hurt her and then take her into my own goddamn home?”

They had both done bad things in the past to survive but this – this has taken the cake of absurdity.

“Okay, okay, I believe you.” Tommy stopped him, his hands before him like an offering of peace. “But now, ya gotta help me clean up this fucking mess, Joel. And I won’t tell anyone about this. Because they probably deserved it.”

“What happened to you?” Elaine asked once her new friend arrived at the laundry place, letting her bucket of water fall as her mouth opened in horror. She ran up to her, her delicate and pale hands brushing where the skin had broken. The woman jumped at the unexpected touch, but she smiled as much as her split lip allowed.

“Don’t worry. Just… got into a fight.” She gave some of the truth, sparse, breadcrumbs in the forest of her mind. She saw the mess of water. “Let me help you clean up before anyone gets hurt.”

While they worked, they talked. Elaine, like last time, did most of the talking. But she could see something was off with her new friend.

“What’s going on with you, sweetheart? I know it must be hard for you to trust people around here but… you can tell me anything.” Elaine had the empathy of a good mother. The kind who would take you in her arms and waited until you stopped crying. The kind she probably had before.

“It’s just… men.”

The woman with the auburn hair hummed knowingly. “Miller?”

She shrugged in response, so Elaine did not push. But she knew.

“I’m just… disappointed. I got what I thought I wanted. But I’m just left… even lonelier somehow.”

“You’re gonna have to stop speaking in riddles if you want my help.” There was no bite behind her words,

“We… had sex, yesterday. I thought we had something going on, but I woke up completely alone.” Her voice was lower, so she wouldn’t attract the local gossipers.

“Mmh. I see. Sometimes… men just need space to sort out their feelings. I wouldn’t worry much about it. Is he the one who…?” She asked as she pointed to her lip.

“Oh god no, he would never… hurt me. I don’t think so.”

But he had hurt her before, hadn’t he?

He was washing away the gore and the blood from his body, but somehow, even as the red liquid flushed down the drain, he didn’t feel cleaner. The beast was dirty, and right now, in the most inappropriate of times, it still wanted. He had left her side this morning, partly because he wanted to let her sleep in, and partly because he was afraid of what he could do to her once the want came back. Would he hurt her to take what he wanted?

He heard the door open downstairs. She was probably done with her work. He chased the bad thoughts away as he dried himself and got dressed in dark washed jeans, a discolored shirt that was probably black in another life and a flannel that he buttoned almost all the way to the top, leaving two buttons popped open.

Joel climbed down the stairs quietly, and he cleared his throat awkwardly when he found her in the kitchen.

“Oh, Joel.”

He was overly aware of her body language, of the way she jumped slightly at his voice. “M’sorry, didn’t wanna scare ya…” His palm caressed the back of his neck as he approached her.

“I just… I thought you didn’t want anything to do with me after yesterday.”

“What? God… no.” He groaned in frustration. “Listen, I’m very bad at this.” So bad that he couldn’t even tell Tess he loved her, even when she was turning in front of his eyes. “But it has nothing to do with you or what happened yesterday.”

“Okay…” He eyed the way she balanced herself from one leg to the other nervously. “I… when you said you would take care of the guys yesterday, what did you mean?” She asked suddenly.

Something primal in him wanted him to tell her everything. But she would be horrified. So, he did what he did best. He lied.

“I was gonna talk to them… but the poor bastards were already dead when I got to them.”

“Do you think it’s…whatever hurt me?” She asked worriedly as her fingers traced the scar across her face.

He hummed in response. “But… you ain’t got nothin’ to be scared of. I got ya okay?”

And with her bright, innocent eyes, he could see that she believed him completely. She approached him with more confidence now, and her hands laid on his shoulders as her eyes traced his lips.

“Joel… thank you.” She brought her face to the older man’s level and latched her lips onto his. It lit the fire in him, as his hands trailed down her body to hold her hips. He pressed her against his body tightly, and he could already feel himself getting hard. He was insatiable when it came to her.

She let go of his lips with a sweet smile, knowing the way his body reacted to hers. “Come to the winter ball with me. Please.”

“Yeah… okay. I’ll go.” She felt his hands on her ass, and he lifted her up to leave her on the counter. His lips trailed down her jaw, the soft skin of her throat. She smelled so intoxicatingly good, with a mixture of her and… him still somewhere on her body.

“Wait… Is Ellie coming back…?”

“Will be gone all day. Said she’d meet with a friend after work.” He mumbled back, his teeth sucking a bruise into her skin, before he soothed it with his tongue. She moaned in response, her body arching to get closer to him.

“O-Okay.” She’d thought Joel wouldn’t have much of a libido due to his age, but he seemed like he couldn’t get enough, and she couldn’t complain about it. He unzipped her pants as fast as he could before his hand sneaked in her wet panties.

“Couldn’t stop thinkin’ about this pussy.” Joel growled, his fingers already tracing fast circles on her swollen bud. The top of her body fell against his chest, and he held her with his free hand.

“S’yours Joel, all yours.” She slurred, already drunk on pleasure.

“Yeah?” He breathed against her skin. “Good fuckin’ girl.”

With his fingers, he pushed her over the edge abruptly and embarrassingly quickly, and she let out a load moan as she came in her panties.

“Fuck, come here.” He lifted her and brought her with him, as he sat down on one of the dining chairs. “Need to be inside you.” He hastily undid his belt and freed his member, before pulling her bottoms off. He held the base of his cock so it would sit upright, and with his free hand, he pulled her down on it in a slow movement.

“Joel…” She whined weakly, letting the sound die against his lips.

“Hurts?” He asked as he felt her tight heat more and more. When she was sat still on him, he waited, his hand caressing her hips, where he had left bruises the night before.

“Hurts in a good way.”

Joel cursed under his breath as he guided her hips up and down his thickness, his half-lidded eyes looking at her in wonder. “Look at me.”

When she opened her eyes and looked at his, there was this bestial glint in his gaze that she had seen before. Her mouth opened, but no sound came out as she bounced up and down his dick.

“Yeah, that’s it. Keep goin’.” She felt a harsh slap on her butt cheek that was swollen from the night before, which made her yelp. His fingers then came down to her clit, where he teased her. “Come on my dick.” He ordered in the shell of her ear, before biting her lobe.

His name fell from her lips as he caressed her clit with a purpose, making her gush around his cock and choke him deliciously.

“Atta girl.” She was turning limp in his grasp, so he started thrusting his hips up, giving her a break. He could feel his eyes roll in the back of his head, she just felt too good. She felt… right. “M’so fucking close, darlin’.”

“Come in my mouth, please…” She begged, and she was already getting off him to fall on her knees in front of his legs. “Please Joel.”

He held the back of her head as he guided his throbbing length in her warm mouth. He kept her in place as he thrusted between her lips. She could feel herself gag, so she breathed through her nose and let the tears fall as he finally came into her throat. Joel pulled her away to let her breathe, and his calloused fingers chased the tears away.

“Thank you for that, darlin’.” He said as he caught his breath again. He caressed her head affectionately, before pulling her up on his lap to kiss her with a newly found softness. For once, the beast felt sated. Calm.

Days later, she stood in front of the mirror behind her bedroom door, uncertain of her choice. The dress fitted perfectly; it accentuated every curve of her body. The color, a blue that was almost white, looked so soft on her. The fabric had a nice sheen to it, that caught the candlelight and made her look like a princess. Elaine had helped her find it, and she was extremely happy to have a friend here, because she had a feeling she wouldn’t find anyone in her vague memories.

But somehow, she felt self-conscious. Even though Joel proved to be a… passionate lover, to say the least, she feared he would find someone better.

“You ready?” Ellie’s voice called, with a shy knock on the door.

She opened the door and brought Ellie inside, panicking. “Please, be honest with me. How do I look?” She whispered; afraid Joel was listening at the door.

“Damn! You look good. You’re gonna give the old man a heart attack.”

Heat rushed to her face, and she smiled shyly as she finally admired Ellie’s outfit. It wasn’t what she had expected for her, but she wore a dark blue dress shirt and black slacks. It fitted her small frame surprisingly well. Her brown curls were loose on her shoulders.

“Watch your language around the old man, yeah? You look good too.” She caressed the top of Ellie’s head playfully, before grabbing her coat and going out of the room with her.

Joel looked at his broken watch while he waited for the girls. Finally, he heard giggles and their steps coming down. He was going to make a comment on how late they were, but when he saw her… he completely froze. His mouth was half-opened, his eyes bright as he admired her shiny blue dress and the way it caressed the body he had gotten to know so quickly.

He finally looked at Ellie too and the hint of a smile formed on his lips as he saw their outfits were matching. His shirt was two shades lighter, but they basically had the same outfit.

“See? Told you, he’s having a stroke.” Ellie mumbled.

“You look good, kid.” Joel cleared his throat, then took the hand of the woman he desired in his. “And you look… wow.” He couldn’t really say his real thoughts, though. How he wanted to tear that dress off her body and see if her underwear was just as pretty.

“Okay, get a fucking room, I’m leaving without you.” Ellie rolled her eyes.

Of course, it had been hard to keep their relationship hidden as Joel always wanted to jump in her pants. Ellie had guessed it pretty quickly.

“No, no. We’re leaving.” She responded with an embarrassed smile.

The room was decorated beautifully in whites and blues, making the green of the natural Christmas tree and the colorful lights really pop. It seemed like the whole community of Jackson was present, and she felt a bit intimidated.

Two men shone by their absence, though. The two who had ambushed her and bruised her. She felt uneasy, as she wondered who had murdered them. Of course, in the deep pits of her gut, she knew who did it. She just didn’t want to give more reasons for her brain to shout “Run”.

On the dance floor, she saw Elaine and her husband. She looked beautiful with her auburn hair in a high bun, two pieces of hair framing her face. They exchanged shy movements of their hands as a salutation, from afar.

She always stayed close to Joel, but the man really seemed out of place. He kept to himself, drinking, and keeping an eye on Ellie, who was dancing with a pretty girl.

“Come on, dance with me, Joel. You won’t stay here moping around all night.”

She extended her hand to him, and he tried to look annoyed as he took it, with a grumbling “fine”.

The music slowed down, and she wrapped her hands around Joel’s broad shoulders, as his palms embraced her lower back. Her skin, even though she was fully dressed, felt like fire against his hands. He wanted to ruin her.

She admired his face with a smile, noting how his messy curls were slightly slicked back with gel. He looked good, like this. In another life, instead of a survivalist… maybe that’s what he would have looked like as a serious businessman.

“You’re handsome.” The words escaped her lips before she could stop them.

He grinned, the corners of his beautiful eyes forming lines that showed his age. “And you look like a fuckin’ angel.” His lips brushed her lobe as he whispered: “But we both know how you ain’t one, huh?”

Her cheeks heated up as she was reminded of how well he took care of her. She felt that constant pull and want with Joel, her lust never truly filled.

“Follow me, angel.” Joel ordered in a soft voice, his darkening eyes reading her easily.

He locked the bathroom door, and he sat her on the large edge of the sink, before going down to his knees like he was about to worship her. His body protested for a bit, the crack of his bones reminding him of his age. But he didn’t care.

“Makin’ me crazy, lookin’ like this. Want to spend every minute inside ya.” Joel growled as he kissed up her ankle, her leg, her thigh. He sucked and bit the sensitive skin there to remind her who she belonged too.

She let out a sigh of his name, her back arching as he got closer to his target. He helped her pull up the skirt of her dress until she was bare. Her pussy was covered by delicate white lace that was already wet.

“Shouldn’t even have bother to put anythin’ down there, darlin’.”

His rough hands pulled at the fabric until it ripped. She gasped.

“Joel!”

“What’s under is much prettier.” He shushed her and opened her thighs for him. He cursed under his breath as he dove in, the tip of his tongue collecting the wetness already pooling out of her hole. She was already squirming, still sensitive from the way he had fucked her that morning. His wet muscle went back to the top, effortlessly uncovering her clit to put pressure there. He licked, sucked, caressed at the bundle of nerves, until she whimpered, and he felt more nectar coming out of her.

“J-Joel, touch me, please…” She begged as one of her hands grabbed on to his gelled down curls as if to anchor herself so she wouldn’t drown just yet.

He groaned against her pussy, the vibrations giving her even more stimulation as one of his fingers breached her entrance. It was so thick, already filling her up just right as he kept sucking harder at her clit. He plunged his finger deeper until he curled it against that spongy part that he knew made her see stars.

“F-Fuck, please, please, I’m so fucking close….”

“C’mon baby, wet my face.” He mumbled against her, before putting more pressure on his tongue. He felt her grip on his hair strengthen, he heard her heartbeat faster as she came undone, gushing on his face beautifully. He ate her out through it all, until she pushed him away.

“You taste so fuckin’ good, baby.” Joel got up slowly, crowding her against the sink as leaned in to kiss her deeply.

She moaned against his mouth, and she was about to unclasp his belt, until insistent knocks on the door made her stop. She came back to reality slowly, realizing where they were. Embarrassed, she pulled her dress down and got out of the bathroom. She vaguely heard Joel asking her to wait, but she knew their alone time was up.

Mortified, Elaine stood in front of them.

“Oh, hi.” Her mischievous eyes told her she knew what was going on. “I wanted to talk to you, what a coincidence.” She also acknowledged Joel with a polite nod, who cleared his throat and made up some excuse about going to see if Ellie was okay. Elaine pulled her into the now empty bathroom and closed the door, before taking out a small brown bag out of her purse. She looked at her friend, confused, as she took the bag.

“It’s a tea based on a flower that has contraceptive properties. Drink it once a week, and you’ll be fine. Indigenous women used it to prevent pregnancies. I’ve been meaning to give it to you, but I didn’t see you much these days…”

“O-Oh. Thank you.” Her slick still sticking to her thighs reminded her of how much she needed this.

“You’re welcome.” With a wink, Elaine let her leave.

She hid the bag in her purse, embarrassed that she got caught with Joel, and she went back to the main event. Her eyes looked for him, but it was too crowded. Instead, she found Tommy, Joel’s brother. The younger man looked beautiful; his longer hair tied in a low bun. He wore a blinding white shirt and dark blue pants.

“Oh, hey! I hope you’re liking the party.” He told her loud enough for her to hear.

Awkwardly, she got closer to hear him better. “Yeah… it’s nice. Do you do that every year?”

“Yup, it became a tradition. Was my wife’s idea.”

She nodded and thought the conversation was done, but he stopped her by placing a delicate hand on her bare arm. She almost pushed him away, but his eyes were soft and understanding. “Look… I’ve been meaning to talk to you… about Joel.”

“What about Joel?” She asked, trying to look disinterested.

“I’m… worried for your safety. I know my brother well, but he hasn’t been the same for a while now.”

She stayed silent and let him explain, but Joel stopped their conversation by finally finding her. His hand encircled her arm a bit roughly, and he pulled her towards him while flashing a dark glare to his brother. Tommy retreated.

“Chill, Joel. Was just talkin’ to your girl and see if she was enjoyin’ the party.”

“C’mon baby, we’re leaving.” Joel said as he ignored Tommy.

He pulled her into the dark, cold night, before she could protest. She finally gathered the strength to push him away, her big eyes looking up at him in distress.

“Joel, you’re hurting me. And you’re scaring me.”

The older man stopped in his tracks and pivoted his body so he could look at her. Some of his softness was back in his eyes, but still, something dark loomed behind. “M’sorry.”

“Tommy said… you haven’t been the same. What did he mean by that?” She confronted him.

“Ignore him.”

I was gonna talk to them… but the poor bastards were already dead when I got to them. His words flooded her memory.

“Joel, did you kill them? Josh and Kevin?”

Memories hypnotized his brain, like an out of body experience. He was inside the beast, as it destroyed the men.

“I did what was necessary to protect ya.” He responded darkly.

She didn’t know why, but tears drowned her eyes. They had abused her, badly, but she never intended for them to die like that. “Joel… you can’t.”

“Can’t control it. Forgive me, darlin’.”

She watched as he ran back to the house they shared, alone under the falling snowflakes and the moon mocking her.

#something in the shadows #joel miller #dark!joel miller #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #dark fic #werewolf!joel miller #monster!joel miller #joel miller x yn #joel miller x y/n #tlou #tlou fanfic #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic

65 notes · View notes

thereaperisabitch · 8 months ago

Text

My Joel Miller fic recs Volume 2

I wanted to post this before my birthday, but that was more than a month ago - life happened (SO MANY things happened).

As I said on the first part, 2023 was a very rough year and these stories I’ve read were a great solace for me. Sadly, 2024 it’s still being as rough – so I’m holding on my resolution and being more active on here. My original plan was to make a rec list of the year, but not only it’d be huge but it would be a lot of work, so I’ll be separating in volumes. Last year’s will be considered volume 1, this is volume 2.

I want to thank every author in this list @tieronecrush @atticrissfinch @swiftispunk @the-scandalorian @softlyspector and @toomanystoriessolittletime : thank you so much for taking your time and created amazing stories for me and for all the readers in here, you all are very talented and creative, your hard work in crafting the best reading pieces it's very much appreciated, I wish there's more I could do to express how much I value your writing.

Hot & Heavy (complete)

Summary: 3 years, 3 summers - what happens when you can’t get over your sexy older neighbor? The sexiest and sweetest love affair that could happen – but with a lot more between them.

This one is very dear to me, @tieronecrush is the sweetest person on earth (and I love her even more knowing she's Aries too). Sam’s creativity it’s amazing and at the same time she can balm our hearts with her words, she can squeeze it with our lungs.

I think this was the first story I’ve read of hers and her Javier Peña’s “Only Angel” will appear again when I make a list of rec's of our beloved Peña.

From her Joel Miller stories, I also highly recommend Trick or Treat, Secret Santa and Orange Crush.

Meet Me In The Back (on going)

Summary: after a rough shitty day, you just want your drink, but state’s law is against you, what to do? Sleazy gas station clerk Joel shows you he can bend the rules for different ways to pay 👀

This has become my obsession, consuming my thoughts at the most random times and very oftenly. Joel’s kinda weird in this story, but he gets under your skin, etches in your brain in a way that you accept and love. And because I’m a ~romantic gal~, there’s more than crazy ass good smut in this too and so far, I’m loving the development of this story.

I also HIGHLY recommend In the Next Room, ‘cause @atticrissfinch turned an annoying situation (my aunt struggles with neighbors like this and it’s exhausting my family) into one of the sexiest things ever.

Your Summer Dream (complete)

Summary: after a traumatic breakup, you’re travelling to Costa Rica with your parents and your dad’s best buddy, Joel Miller. You know what they say, the best way to heal a broken heart it’s with a good dick someone new, right? Right.

This is one my favorite dbf!Joel ever! The situation between them it’s the most appealing – hot DILF, friend’s of dad, fresh breakup and SUMMER and BEACH – it’s the perfect recipe for a delicious and thrilling story, but @swiftispunk adds more with her talent, bringing up also the complicate parts of falling in love with your dbf.

I also highly recommend Good to Me, it’s about Joel being a gynecologist – and just that made me BURN, but also he’s a very good and caring gynecologist, which makes everything all better. Say it With Your Hands is set in Jackson Era - Joel Miller in Jackson visits a masseuse and it’s too much body contact for our poor old man. And Snowflakes, a Fireplace, and You it’s a beautiful Christmas tale and it’s also very much sexy and sad, and I foolish hope that next Christmas there’ll be a second part.

Two & Mine

These are one-shots that aren't related.

I love @the-scandalorian and the day I make a rec list for Din Djarin, 90% of it will be all of her pieces. But since Joel’s stills the man of the hour, I recommend both of these one-shots of her. Mine was the first anal fic with Joel that I’ve read in here, and that’s all you need to know to go read it and LOVE it as I do.

Two includes it’s smut with angst, which I LOVE, as well. And it’s perfect smut, in every detail and word choice, because Simone is wonderful and everything she writes it’s perfectly endearing and it touches you in different ways.

If you're also into Din Djarin content, go check her work.

Honeyed (complete)

Summary: the dilemma of someone who can’t stand being touched but finds a connection with the tattooist Joel Miller and his arts.

I’ve used “can’t stand being touched” but you need to know that’s because there’s trauma in the background and @softlyspector explains that in the Warnings. This story it’s very dear to me, I was really involved while reading and Becca builds the perfect relationship of trust between them, while adding some mind-gushing pining.

You know when you read something so good you feel something tingling inside you? That’s how I’ve felt reading Honeyed, that’s how good this story is.

I’ve reread this story before finishing this list and it was a thrill as it was when I've read it for the first time. Becca nailed perfectly with her writing in here and I love it love it love it love it, please go read this and fall in love with this story too.

⚠

🚨WARNING🚨 ⚠ATTENTION⚠ The next story contains beastiality/sexual content with a monster creature. If it’s not your thing or you don’t think you’ll be able to read it, JUST DON’T READ IT. If even you’ve ignored my and author’s warnings and read it still and didn’t like it, keep your opinion to yourself, unless you’ve got some real constructive criticism to share respectfully. Many authors in this place have been migrating or becoming less active in the fandom because of people who think they can say whatever they want without any regards of respect and fuck the receivers of their hate. Don’t make here a worse environment, life outside it’s already awful and unfair as it is. Respect the authors and their work, even if you don't like them.

Claimed

Summary: after being chased by raiders, your savior comes in a form of a strange creature (werewolf). What happens after it’s more than a different way of saying “thank you”.

I’ve felt I needed to add this story here not only because it swept me off my feet and I loved it, but also because this list needs more spice, so thanks @toomanystoriessolittletime for brightening this even more.

Now, if someone asks me if I’m into monster fucking, I’ll say no – but I’d be guilty by this story and other ones (Din Djarin, your time will come). Now that being said, this story it’s HOT, it made me feel hot and I’ve felt good with this story.

I’ve loved the smut, but also how Steph created a perfect atmosphere, I could picture the scene perfectly in my mind. And also Tommy being a werewolf made me hot as well.

That’s it, folks. Next volume probably will come after June. I don’t believe in my promises and neither should you (unless when recommending a fic, then you can trust it’s good).

#Joel Miller fic rec #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x f!reader #Joel Miller AU #dbf!joel miller x reader #Tattooist!Joel Miller #werewolf!joel miller #pedro pascal Joel Miller #tlou fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction

70 notes · View notes

theidiotwhowritesthings · 1 year ago

Text

The Art of Failing [1]

Werewolf!Joel Miller x F!Reader, Vampire!Din Djarin x F!Reader

Series Warnings: violence and mild gore, mentions of blood and injures, reader is described as active and able to fight, eventual smut, loss of a child, angst to fluff, more warnings to come based on individual chapters

Chapter Warnings: anxiety, self doubt, mentions of blood

Word Count: 10,360

Summary: The Division of Mythological Affairs was created to protect and serve the supernatural community while keeping the knowledge of their existence a secret. You hoped to become an Agent of the DMA like your mother before you. Just as your dream begins to fall apart at the seams, you stumble across a missing persons report that could change everything. You are desperate to solve the case, to prove your ability, and you find yourself with unlikely allies⏤ a werewolf running from his pack and a vampire shunned from his coven. The stakes are high, lives are at risk, and success hinges on the three of you learning to work together.

[a/n: it's here!! i'm so excited to officially share this because it was so much fun to write and i'm even more excited to show y'all the rest]

MIDDAY MADNESS

"failure does not mean your life is over."

Every workplace had that one employee who was deemed irreplaceable.

The employee who showed up early, went the extra mile, and made the lives of those around them easier. The one who had a passion for their work⏤ who was born to do what they do with a smile on their face. You were that employee. Without you, everything would collapse into chaos and madness. Mayhem would fill your 8-storied workplace to the brim until it was spilling out into the unsuspecting streets of Austin, Texas. Riots would break out. Fire would engulf the city. The world would never know peace. Without you⏤

“Hey, coffee girl!” The sharp, angry voice startled you and the precariously stacked drinks in your hands nearly toppled over. You readjusted your hold on the carriers with a breathy sigh. “Where the hell is my cappuccino?”

Perhaps calling yourself the most irreplaceable employee here was a bit of a stretch. You were important though. Your job was vital. If it weren’t for you then your co-workers would be caffeine deprived which would lead to headaches which would then lead to mistakes and errors in paperwork which would, eventually and inevitably, lead to worldwide destruction somewhere down the line. You were needed here. You were vital and a necessity. At least, that’s what you told yourself over and over in the form of a mental mantra. It was either that or get caught in the abysmal, black hole your life seemed to be right now.

“Here you go, sir.” You angled the carrier so he could scoop up the cup on the far left. The man yanked his cup away hastily, nearly knocking over the other drinks again, and rushed away without even so much as a ‘thank you’. You pressed your lips together in annoyance.

You were vital. You were vital. You were vital.

With a brief pause to piece your patience back together, you pasted on a broad smile and began to continue your morning deliveries. For two years, you had been taking coffee and lunch orders, scheduling meetings, running errands, and doing basically every other busy work task put on your plate. It was exhausting, both mentally and emotionally, but it was the price to pay. You wouldn't take this kind of treatment anywhere else and the only reason you still put up with it was because it was just a stepping stone.

Today you were a glorified assistant.

Tomorrow you would be an Agent.

An Agent of the Division of Mythological Affairs.

It was a title not many held and was exclusive for a number of reasons. The DMA was established decades ago to police and protect the supernatural community. It was the responsibility and duty of the DMA to keep the peace amongst the community while also keeping said community secret from the rest of humanity. Knowing that the monsters of myth and legend were real was privileged information. The only reason you were clued in was because of your mother. She had been an Agent herself years ago and you grew up surrounded by supernatural forces. Hell, your childhood best friend was a forest nymph.

As you grew older, you grew more passionate about the world you were blessed to know and the dream to walk in your mother’s footsteps took root. You trained and you studied, desperate to make the world a better place, and thus far all you had succeeded in was mastering the skill of carrying four drink carriers without dropping them.

After delivering the final cup of coffee, you made your way up to the eighth floor. There was about fifteen minutes before you had to get down to the lobby for your next task of the day, and you planned to spend it begging. You greeted familiar faces as you passed them. The separation of labor could be seen in the change of clothes as you got to the higher floors. Everyone you passed now were dressed in nice and expensive suits. It was the upper levels that housed the policy makers⏤ more politician than soldier.

The eighth floor was the nicest of them all with open windows that let in natural light. There were no ugly cubicles littering the bulk of it. Instead, modern and sleek furniture sat around the space and private offices were housed here.

“Hey, have you seen Captain Roberts?” You asked Stacey, one of the secretaries you saw in meetings every once in a while, and she didn’t even lift her eyes up from the magazine she was flipping through. She just pointed to the right towards a hall of offices. You mumbled a thanks and continued on. There were a few different Captains who worked in this sector of the DMA, but Captain Roberts was in charge of the Agents and Analysts you worked with most often.

You were halfway down the hall when an unfamiliar, armored figure stepped out of the conference room to leave. Mandalorian. Your pace stuttered in shock as you stared wide eyed at the intimidating man stalking toward you. There were too many vampire covens to count, but a few were infamous enough to merit memorizing.

The Mandalorians were one of them.

Their signature being the impenetrable armor they wore at all times⏤ faces they never revealed to anyone. It wasn’t unusual to see a Mandalorian or two wandering around the building. They occasionally worked contracts with the DMA picking up on bounties. Not all DMA sanctioned bounty hunters were Mandalorian, but the best undoubtedly were. You didn’t recognize this one though.

His all silver armor was haunting and his gait spoke to strength and skill. He was close enough now that you could see your wide, staring eyes in the reflection of his visor, and you forced yourself to snap your gaze to the floor as you passed. The air was tense around him, it followed him like a dark cloud, and his heavy boots stormed past you without pause. You couldn’t help but glance over your shoulder to watch him a second more. His worn out cloak whipped around him at the pace he marched out with and a few suited men practically leapt out of his way to avoid being in his path.

You let out a low whistle and turned back towards the conference room he had just left. Being on the radar of a Mandalorian had to be a fate worse than death, and you pitied whoever had pissed off that one. Outside the conference room door, you adjusted your work blazer and took a steadying breath. You were vital, this organization was lucky to have you, and you would be an Agent if it were the last thing you did. You rapped your knuckles against the door and waited until a deep voice called out for you to enter.

Inside the room were three others. They sat at an elongated conference table centered in the room with their backs to Austin street views out the floor to ceiling windows. On the wall across from the windows were large screens designed for calls and it looked like one had just ended. Of the three people in the room, you only recognized one. Captain Roberts, a gruff man in his late sixties, stood at the head of the table with a few folders and papers spread out in front of him. He was built like a grizzly bear and had the temperament of one as well. The red of his beard was graying and you still hadn’t gotten used to his bald head quite yet. He used to have hair thick and long enough to braid, but when his hair started to recede he chose instead to just lose it all.

“If that’s all, I have other matters to attend to.” Captain Roberts cleared his throat and motioned toward you. It was a dismissal on his part, and you stepped closer while the two other suited individuals packed up their belongings to leave. The second they were out of sight, Roberts groaned. “Perfect timing, kid. I hate dealing with Olympus representatives.”

Your jaw fell open and you pointed to the door, “Those were…” You had never met the souls responsible for carrying the messages and words of the gods and goddesses back down to Earth. “Really?”

“Try not to look so excited. The gods are dicks and they live to make my job more difficult.”

“You say that about everybody.” You replied and wandered over to stand by him. Your eyes darted down to the papers scattered on the table. It looked like a missing person report. “I saw a Mandalorian in here earlier.” The report looked like it was talking about a child. You narrowed your eyes and pulled it closer. The Mandalorian was reporting his own missing child. A young boy who had disappeared overnight. “Why were you meeting with a Mandalorian and Olympus representatives over a missing kid?”

Roberts snatched away the reports to tuck them into a folder with a chastising glare. “I didn’t. I was meeting with the representatives when the Mandalorian burst in. Kind of like you did.”

“You were happy with my interruption a few seconds ago.” You argued. Roberts gave you a tired glare, and you nodded toward the folders in his hands. “You know I was talking to Hannah downstairs a few days ago and she was telling me that the number of missing kids has skyrocketed this last month in comparison to previous months.”

Roberts grunted, “What have I told you about being nosy?”

“Maybe I could help.” You offered. “I could⏤” Roberts scoffed out your name with a shake of his head and made a beeline for the door. You scrambled after him. “Roberts, come on. Please.”

“You came all this way up to beg me about a missing persons case?”

“Well, I actually came to beg you about applying for the Agent qualifications exam, but I’m not picky about what I beg for. I’ll take what I can get.”

“No.”

“Roberts⏤”

“I said, no.”

You locked your jaw in annoyance as you both climbed into the elevator. In order to sign up for the qualifications exam you needed the approval of a Captain. It seemed no matter how many times you begged Roberts to write you the letter of recommendation allowing you to sit for the test, he always had some excuse to say no. Any Captain’s letter would do the job and you could technically find another to badger about this, but you were the stubborn kind. Captain Roberts had been the one to qualify your mother, and you wanted him to be the one to qualify you too.

“If you just gave me a chance,” You snapped, “I could do it.”

“We’re not getting into this again.”

“Give me a real reason then!”

Roberts glared at you with a look that would have anyone else cowering or running for the hills. You could see beyond the anger and frustration. Beyond the huff and glowering. Underneath all the rough Captain bravado was someone who cared, but right now it was infuriating. Roberts rubbed his bald head and shook it with disdain, “Your mother wouldn’t want you risking your life like she did.” It felt like your heart had stopped in your chest. Of all the excuses he had plied you with in the past this was the first time he used your mother as one. “She would want better for you.”

“Don’t.” You whispered.

“You’re a bright girl. You say the word and I can get you a job in research. You would be a hell of an Analyst⏤”

“I don’t want to be an Analyst! I want to be⏤”

The elevator doors dinged open and you both grew silent. A small group shuffled onto the elevator making small talk. You stood stiff and straight, arms crossed over your chest, while Roberts pouted on his side of the elevator as well. Three floors down and the group dispersed leaving you alone with the Captain once more.

“You can do better than this, kid.” Roberts said firmly. “You have your whole life ahead of you.”

“This. This is what I want for my life.” You couldn’t bring yourself to meet his gaze again. You just stared at the numbers at the top of the elevator door, each lighting up as you got closer and closer to the ground floor. “I just wanna help people like mom did.”

“There are other ways to do that.”

The elevator reached the bottom floor and you finally turned to Roberts, “Are you going to approve me for the exam or not?”

Roberts held your gaze for a moment, sadness seeping into his blue eyes, and he sighed, “No. No, I’m not.”

You bobbed your head once, biting back the burning threat of tears prickling at your eyes, and you hurried out of the elevator. Roberts called out after you, making others near the elevator doors glance in your direction, but you didn’t pause in your stride.

There was a small cubicle, amongst a sea of others, down a hall connected from the lobby that you called your own. It was tiny, just big enough to house a computer and a bit of desk space for you to stack busy work all over, but it was yours. The cubicle wall was decorated with pictures of friends, family, and a spattering of Halloween decorations you had put up for the upcoming holiday.

You dropped into the seat, Roberts’ denial ringing in your ears, and your eyes landed on one photo in particular. It was your high school graduation and your mother had her arms wrapped around you proudly as you both beamed at the camera. The sight of it made your stomach turn and without thought you tugged it off the wall where it hung to stick in a drawer. Your mother was a hero who changed so many lives, and you could only wonder what she would think if you now⏤ sitting at a cubicle buried in busy work and covered in coffee stains.

You had buried yourself in errands and paperwork to distract from the bitter rejection of Captain Roberts. The small voice at the back of your mind whispered that all you had to do was seek out a separate Captain for your letter of recommendation. You knew for a fact that the Captain who worked the neighboring district handed out letters like candy. They had the mindset that the test would weed out the ones who didn’t deserve to be there, and you were confident you could pass. It was a quick and easy solution, but it felt too much like cheating in your eyes.

A part of you wished you could kick your pride to the curb. A dream was a dream, right? It didn’t matter how you got there as long as you got there. You blew out an irritated breath of air and leaned back in your seat to stretch your spine. No matter how many times you repeated those words in your head they didn’t seem to stick.

“Hey, pumpkin.” A voice drawled from behind you, and the condescending tone of it immediately made your blood pressure rise. Slowly, you turned in your seat to face the bane of your existence. Agent Miles Jackson was average in height but constantly acted as if he were compensating for something or another. You assumed it was his lack of a bearable personality. The weight of his stare gave his brown eyes a beady quality and his thin lipped smile could only be described as smarmy. He winked at you and the urge to gouge his eyes out washed over you. “What’re you doing here?”

You furrowed your brow, “Working. I know that’s an unfamiliar concept to you.”

“Ha ha. Funny.” Miles snorted. “I meant, why the hell are you still here and not picking up my lunch?” You opened your mouth to complain, but he cut in. “I want my usual from that sandwich place right down the road. The faster the better.”

“Miles⏤”

The man turned on his heel and began to march away before letting you say another word. You glared at his back where his light blue, wrinkled button up shirt was untucked from his one size too small dress pants. You just wanted to throw something at the back of his head. With a huff, you pushed to stand and grabbed your purse from the drawer under your desk. Between the morning you had and dealing with Miles, you were seriously going to need a drink tonight.

It took no time at all to pick up the food. You called ahead on your walk, and the workers there knew you fairly well as a regular. When you got back to the building there was a commotion in the lobby. More people than normal were milling about and a steady flow of people were streaming out of the first floor bullpen⏤ the exact place you were heading. You slipped through the crowd and as you got closer and closer to where Miles’ desk was the noise began to increase.

“⏤'nd you’re not fuckin’ listenin’ to me!”

The words reverberated into the hall stopping you dead in your tracks. Calling it a yell would be underselling the wall of sound that slammed into you. It was a roar⏤ earth shattering, enraged, and excruciating. You rushed into the bullpen, hand clutched tight to the to-go bag of food, and gazed over a sea of desks. The bullpen was where most Agents worked day to day. Usually, the routine tasks involved speaking to concerned citizens or interviewing suspects. A good bulk of the work involved filing reports when not out on the streets working on a case. However, the room was nearly empty and continued to get even emptier as people rushed past you. At the center, with the agent you were looking for, was a man you didn’t recognize.

He was gruff with broad shoulders covered in a worn out flannel. A peppering of gray littered the thick, dark hair atop his head and even spilled into the scruff on his face. The clear details that could be seen from a mile away was the redness in his face, the vein protruding along his neck as he yelled, and the rage simmering in his dark eyes. His anger was volatile and palpable. Your focus seemed to zoom in on the flash of pain, and once you saw it… it was all you could see. This was a man suffering. Amongst all that rage was heart wrenching fear and agony.

“Sir⏤”

“Don’ you fuckin’ ‘sir’ me.” The man snapped and shoved at Agent Jackson. “You son of a bitch, listen⏤”

Miles pointed in his face and the man snarled in response. “Don’t you take a tone with me. Do you know who I am?!” You got closer and you could see the man’s canines lengthen and his brown eyes flickered in shades of a burning gold. Wolf. He was a werewolf. Genetically speaking, there were hundreds of lineages from the initial werewolf. Unlike vampires, who were similar regardless of the coven, wolves differed. Based on what you could see here, this guy was probably from a local pack. The ones around here didn’t necessarily need the full moon and their emotions controlled a lot of their abilities. Miles ran a hand through his hair with a huff, “Now, Mr. Miller, we have your statement. If you’ll be patient with us⏤”

“Are you fuckin' kiddin' me right now with this bullshit!?”

You weren’t sure how this guy got stuck talking to the least empathetic and least helpful Agent in the entire building, but your heart went out to him. While Miles rattled off a long winded excuse, you crept forward to set the food on his desk and your eyes landed on an open report. The wolf’s name was Joel Miller, and as your eyes scanned the page you understood his rage.

“Your daughter is missing?” You gasped. Both men snapped their gazes at you. Miles glared at your intrusion, but Joel’s narrowed eyes held more questioning than rage toward you. You picked up the report to read the details, but all you could think of were the other missing children cases⏤ the Mandalorian this morning and his missing child. The report in your hand was poorly written which you expected of Miles. “When did you last see⏤”

“I already took his statement.” Miles snapped at you.

Joel, on the other hand, pointed his finger at the file with a glare, “Does it not say it in there??” Sensing the tension, you were hesitant to nod your head. Joel filled in the blanks though and snarled at Miles. “You fuckin' bastard. Are you not takin' this seriously!? She's a kid! She's only fourteen! I swear to the Gods, I’ll⏤”

“I assure you that we have what we need.” Miles snatched the report from your hands. “You’ll have to excuse my assistant. She isn’t trained." You sucked in a sharp breath, your own rage beginning to bubble up, at his words. As if you needed extensive training to read a piece of paper. “Pumpkin, you’re excused.”

“I’m not your assistant.” You spat at him. “Have you considered the other missing kids?”

Joel’s eyes widened, “'Scuse me?”

Miles scoffed and shook his head to glare at you, “That has nothing to do with⏤”

“And there was a Mandalorian here this morning whose kid disappeared overnight.”

Miles chuckled and the sound pissed you off further. It had the same effect on Joel Miller who looked close to shifting into his wolf form to leap across the desk and maul the man. Miles motioned toward you, “Well, that’s it then. Mandalorian.” You furrowed your brow. “I would bet my money on this being a blood feud. Wolves vs fangs.”

You shook your head, “That doesn’t make any sense.”

“The wolves took the vampire kid, and in retaliation the vampires took the wolf’s kid.” Miles argued confidently. He turned to Joel and gave a slight shrug while scooping up the bag of food you had brought for him. “We will look into the matters, and we will call you with further information.”

“That’s it? You’ll call me?” Joel yelled. The wolf slapped the bag of food out of Miles’ hand and to the ground. “My daughter is fuckin' missin' 'nd that’s all you’re gonna give me right now!?”

Miles slammed his hand against his desk while staring at his lost meal. His glare toward the wolf deepened, a move you found to be hilarious considering Miles was far from intimidating, but you watched as his hand went to his hip where his service weapon rested. Your eyes widened and you set a hand on Miles’ chest to draw his attention to you.

“Stop.” You warned. “That’s a bad idea.” Miles locked his jaw and you tried to defuse the situation. “This isn’t right. Your theory is wrong. A wolf pack would never use a kid as a bargaining token in some rivalry.” You scoffed. “And the Mandalorians are the only vampire coven to allow children in their ranks. They literally adopt kids off the street to raise and care for. But you think they kidnapped a wolf’s child?”

Miles suddenly grabbed you by the arm roughly and squeezed hard enough to make you wince. The sound of a low warning growl filled the air, but all your attention was focused on the loathing rage in Miles’ eyes. He seemed… unhinged, somehow. With his other hand, Miles pointed a finger in your face. “Listen to me, pumpkin.” He snapped. “You need to stop playing ‘Agent’. You’re a bookish errand girl who has no idea what she’s talking about or trying to get involved in.” His words stung even more with Captain’s Roberts’ rejection still ringing fresh in your mind. “It’s pathetic how desperate you are to be an agent like your mommy. Especially considering, you’ll never be what she was. You’ll never be more than the useless, desperate⏤”

Your hand curled into a fist and lashed out before you had even a second to think. Miles’ nose crunched under your now throbbing knuckles and blood splattered down his blue shirt. He cried out in pain and you stiffened in realization at what you had done. “You bitch! I’ll get you fired for this!”

Angry, embarrassed, and frustrated, you spun on your heel to rush away. Miles was still hollering behind you in a rage and before leaving the room you gave one last glance over your shoulder. The goal was to glare at Miles or admire the new shape of his nose, but as if pulled by an unseen force your gaze landed directly on Joel. Once you made eye contact with the wolf, there was no looking away. There was a haunting power in the way he stared back and it seemed to singe a hole through your very being, and you could feel his agony⏤ his devastation and desperation. The embarrassment you felt grew as you realized you were useless to him. Just like Miles said. You mouthed a quick apology and left in a hurry.

Downtown Austin had a district for the supernatural. Not that any human knew that it was for the supernatural specifically. With the right words, a person could find themselves in underground Austin where a market and community lay hidden. As you saw no reason to sit around and wait for the consequences of your actions to find you, you climbed into your car to drive across the city to see a friend. Once parked, it took no time at all to find your favorite bar. It was one owned by a witch and open to any and all who were interested.

Despite being underground, ‘Lucille's’ did not feel closed off or stuffy. The ceiling was high, a spell cast to mimic the natural lighting for the time of day, and the walls and furniture were decorated in greenery making the room feel like a clearing in a forest. Usually when you were here it was late evening or night time so the bar would be lit accordingly, but as it was literally 2 in the afternoon it was pure midday sunlight that shone down on you.

The bar wasn’t empty. A number of patrons sat around enjoying a casual lunch or drink, but you weaved through the tables to make your way to the actual bar. It was made of thick mahogany wood and glass. Behind the bar, the shelf was lined with liquors and raw materials. Jars filled with dragon scales, phoenix feathers, wormwood, and any other ingredient that could be used for spells or drinks. There was a glow from behind the shelf itself that shifted in a swirling of soft colors.

As you sat down on a cushioned bar stool, you saw a familiar forest nymph walking out of the back carrying a box. Her pale green skin was accented by a darker, vine like pattern that encircled her limbs and torso⏤ made even more clear to see due to the loose, white tank top she wore. Her vibrant pink hair was pulled back into two buns atop her head and littered with yellow and blue flowers. She dropped the box with a grunt and her brown eyes landed on you in shock.

“Whoa! What’re you doing here??”

“Hey, Nima.”

“You here for lunch?”

“Not exactly.” You gave her a tight lipped smile as she bounced over with a bright grin. She stood close enough that you could see the slight movements of the vine-like pattern on her skin and it must have been close enough for her to see the misery in your features. Before she could begin her interrogation, you lifted your dominant hand to nod toward your bruised knuckles. “Can I have an ice pack?”

Nima wrapped a handful of ice in a rag for you to set on your hand and listened quietly as you told her about your day from start to finish.

“First off, I’m making you a stiff drink.” Nima grabbed a glass and she knew your preferences enough that you didn’t need to say a word. “Secondly, after you down this we’re getting in my car and we’re gonna go kill Agent ‘Shit for Brains’.” Your lips twitched up in amusement. “Thirdly⏤”

“How many bullet points are in this pep talk?” You asked. “Just so I can keep track.”

“You would make a gods damn brilliant Agent.” Nima paused in drink making to point at you. “I don’t care what anyone else says.” She shook the metal tumbler three times before pouring the drink in the martini glass. The light pink liquid bubbled and fizzed. She set it in front of you and you raised an eyebrow at the glittering light that shimmered from the bubbles that popped in it. Nima shrugged, “So, I added a joy charm to your drink. Sue me.”

The corner of your lip twitched up and you didn’t hesitate to bring the drink to your lips. The fizzing bubbles of the joy charm tickled your mouth and it reminded you of eating pop rocks as a kid. Unlike the pop rocks, it left an immediate light hearted buzz in your brain that made the glow of the lights around you seem a little bit brighter. Coming here had been the right decision. Between the drinks and Nima’s threats against Miles’ life you were feeling a bit better.

Nima stayed with you chatting for a while longer, but when a group of elves noisily wandered in she had to veer away to serve them. You finished the last of your drink, pushed the glass aside, and then folded your arms to lean on the bar with a hum. The joy charm left your brain with the happy buzz, but your heart still felt heavy. All you wanted to do in life was help others, like your mom had, and now you were going to get fired. You couldn’t even provide support for the people who were helping others.

So much for being vital.

You absentmindedly began to count the bottles on the expansive shelf in hopes to keep your mind occupied until Nima could come back and distract you. It was around 116 that you felt somebody sit on the stool right beside you. Any annoyance you felt at a stranger picking a seat so close to you when there were so many other open stools was muted by the effects of the joy charm. You continued to count and at 200 the stranger said your name.

Eyes wide, you turn your head and the sight of Joel Miller’s glare you jumped in surprise, “Gods!” You were sitting up now, half hanging off your stool, while gripping the edge of the bartop. “What are you… How do you know my name??”

“I asked 'round.” Joel replied gruffly. Unsure of what to say, you bobbed your head awkwardly. He had his arm resting on the bar as he faced you, and his hand was balled up in a tight fist. The wolf was wound up tight⏤ ready to snap at the slightest provocation. “Now tell me more 'bout the Mandalorian.”

You scrunched your nose, still in disbelief that this wolf followed you in the first place, “Um, DMA restricts me from giving out the information of someone else. I’m not really supposed to do it without going through the proper channels.”

“Yeah, well, you don’ really got a job anymore, far as I can tell.”

“I still have a job. I haven’t been fired.” You countered with a nod then mumbled. “Yet.”

Joel leaned in closer and you stiffened at his growl, “You think my Ellie missin' has somethin' to do with the Mandalorian?”

You assumed that was the name of his daughter. “I can’t say anything for certain. I mean, I don’t know anything⏤”

“You knew more than that bonehead Agent.”

“That’s not hard.” You mumbled with a quiet snort. Joel did not seem amused and continued to burn through you with his gaze. You cleared your throat and nodded. “All I know is the number of missing persons cases involving children has been higher this last month than usual, and some Mandalorian is missing his own kid.” Joel gave a slight nod and you could see the wheels turning in his head. You shrugged, “But I don’t think it’s the feud between wolves and vampires doing this. I know that’s what Miles assumed but… I just have this weird feeling that⏤ that something else is going on.”

Joel clenched his jaw before speaking, “Why?”

“I don’t know.” You sighed, defeated. “I don’t have evidence or a good reason. It’s just a... gut instinct.”

You squirmed under Joel’s continued gaze until he finally looked away. He turned in his seat to face forward and now you were the one staring. With how tense the wolf was, he looked to be made of stone. A handsome statue wearing a scowl that could fill even the gods with a chill.

Nima bounced back over and gave Joel a skeptical glance. She raised an eyebrow at you in question and you waved your hand in front of your neck to signal her to leave him alone. Nima scooped up your empty glass and carried it away.

“Where is he?”

Your head snapped back to Joel, eyes wide, “Sorry?”

“Where is the Mandalorian?” Joel demanded slowly. “I wanna talk to 'im.”

“I⏤I have no idea, man.” A laugh of disbelief left your lips. “The local Mandalorian coven is a mystery. They’re more tight lipped than any other coven I’ve heard about. Only a few people even know where they hide.”

Joel narrowed his eyes at you. “That’s all you got for me?”

You scoffed, “I’m sorry. If I had known you were going to stalk me out of the building⏤” Joel rolled his eyes with a huff. “⏤then I would’ve prepared accordingly. My bad.”

Joel hissed a curse under his breath. His eyes closed and a hand rubbed his jawline before resting over his mouth⏤ attempting to settle himself, you assumed. You glanced over at Nima who was staring at you in concern and you gave her a quick nod and pointed to the wolf beside you. A few moments later, Nima came over and placed a glass of dark liquor in front of you. She mouthed the words, ‘You good?’, and you gave her a tight lipped smile. She shot Joel another wary glance before moving over to her other customers.

You cleared your throat and pushed the drink in Joel’s direction. He opened his eyes and stared down at the drink. Joel sniffed the air then furrowed his brow, “That’s Lavagulin.” You shrugged. That sounded right, but you didn’t know the dark liquor types well enough to confirm it. His gaze turned skeptical and paranoid, “How do you know my drink of choice?”

“Oh, I don’t.” You held your hands in surrender. “Nima does.” You pointed to the forest nymph who was flipped a tumbler with a broad grin. “I don’t know how she does it, but she can guess anybody’s drink of choice. I’ve never seen her fail.” Joel stared for a second more before picking up the drink and taking a long sip of it. You rubbed the back of your neck nervously. “Listen, I’m sorry. I can’t even begin to imagine what you’re going through. I wish I could help.”

Joel didn’t respond to your comfort and just continued to drink. You briefly considered calling Captain Roberts. Miles had probably already gone to the man to snitch on you for breaking his nose. There was no way you wouldn’t get canned for the attack, even the Captain couldn’t protect you from that, but somebody should know that Miles was out of line with a citizen. Joel Miller needed real help to find his daughter, and gods knew that Agent Miles Jackson wasn’t going to be of any use. As the thought crossed your mind, you tilted your head. Help. Joel needed help.

“I could help.” You blurted out loud.

“What?” Joel was nearly finished with his drink.

“I could help!” You repeated. Why hadn’t you thought about this before? Joel needed help, and you needed to prove that this was a job you were more than capable of. “My mom was an Agent⏤ one of the best. She had all these connections and…” Joel was now facing you entirely as he had turned in his seat. For the first time since you met him, you saw more than just anger, panic, and pain in his eyes. There was a flicker of hope. You shot him a smile. “I think I can find out where the Mandalorian coven is.”

Joel leaned forward on his seat, “Where?”

“We need to go to my apartment. There’s a journal with a map.” You jumped up and began to root through your bag for your wallet.

“What’s going on?” Nima came back over. “You leaving?”

“Yeah, it’s a⏤ it’s a long story.”

“Everything alright though?”

You huffed when you couldn’t find your wallet, “What? Yeah, no. It’s fine. Just give me a second. I think my wallet is buried under here somewhere.”

Nima shook her head with a frown, “I’m not taking your money.”

“What’re you talking about?” You demanded.

“You don’t have a job. I’m not taking your money, babe.” You winced at her half true comment. The DMA didn’t pay you all that great anyways considering your position wasn’t super high on the career ladder. But then again, if you solved this case and proved your worth then you could be the Agent you knew you were capable of being. Suddenly, Joel held out a few folded bills. Your eyes widened, but Nima snatched the money from his hands with a smirk. “You on the other hand, I can very much take money from.”

Joel ushered you out of the bar as Nima waved after you and demanded you call her later. The wolf said he’d follow behind you in his own truck which you figured he wouldn’t have a problem with considering he had done it once before. You just prayed the plan you had in mind was actually going to pan out.

If you had known you’d have a near feral werewolf sitting in your living room this afternoon, you would’ve cleaned up a little better before leaving in the morning. You scrambled through your room searching for the journal that you knew was somewhere around here.

“You got it, yet?” Joel barked from the other room.

“Almost! Just⏤ Just hang on!”

Finally, you found the journal buried under a stack of papers on your desk. You mumbled your relief and immediately began to flip through the journal pages searching for something that could point you in the direction of the Mandalorians. You knew for a fact that your mother had a connection⏤ either directly or indirectly. You managed to find the vague map scribbled out midway through the journal. It wasn’t much, but it was more than you had ten minutes ago. You took a quick picture of it with your phone and began to leave your room only to pause. Frozen in place, your eyes darted over to your bedside drawer. After a second of contemplation, you hurried over and pulled out the handgun tucked away for safekeeping. The only ammunition you had was regular bullets and silver ones. Neither would help against a vampire, especially a Mandalorian vampire decked out in ceremonial armor, but the idea of having it on you brought some semblance of comfort. You tugged on your shoulder holster and triple checked the weapon before safely tucking it in place. The last two things you grabbed before leaving your room was a jacket to wear over the holster, keeping it mostly hidden, and your mother’s old badge.

When you stepped out into the living room, Joel was standing and staring at a few pictures on your wall. His eyebrows were drawn together, deep in thought, as his attention was focused in on a picture of you and your mother from when you were a child.

You cleared your throat and his eyes snapped back to you. You opened your mouth to explain the picture, but Joel closed the space between the two of you back on target, “Where is it? The coven?”

“Here.” You opened your phone to point to the picture you had taken.

Joel narrowed his eyes, “That’s all you got? You don’ got an address or somethin'?”

“An address?” You scoffed. “They live underground in the middle of nowhere. Sorry I don’t have a PO box to type into google for you. We can find it with this. Let’s go⏤”

“We??”

You set your hands on your hips with narrowed eyes, “Yeah, we.”

“You’re not goin'.”

“I’m not letting you and your pack stampede into a vampire coven!”

“I don’ have a pack.” Joel shook his head, and you tried to hide your surprise. “I work better alone. Now give me the map.”

“Fine,” You corrected, “I’m not letting a lone werewolf storm a vampire coven.”

“And how is addin' a human to the mix gonna tip the odds in my favor, sweetheart?” Joel scoffed and motioned to you.

“For one, they won’t kill me on sight for being a werewolf.” You argued. “And two,” You pulled the badge out of your pocket and flashed it to him, “I’m an impartial party. A peacekeeper.”

Joel snarled, “If they do have my kid for some reason, I don’ plan on keepin' the peace.”

“Yeah, see, that sentence proved my point. You need me.”

Joel opened his mouth to argue more, and you were fully prepared to counter anything he threw your way, but then he surprised you by locking his jaw and giving you a stiff nod. You hadn’t actually expected that to work. Joel turned to leave your apartment with a grunt and you hurried after him.

“Also, we’re taking my car.”

After another short lived argument, you managed to wrestle Joel into your vehicle. According to the map, the coven was just outside Austin city limits, truly in the middle of nowhere, and it would take at least an hour to get in the vicinity. Then you’d have to search for it further. The drive was just as awkward as you would’ve guessed it to be. Joel didn't seem like the type of man who enjoyed small talk even on a good day let alone right now. Unfortunately, the more nervous you got the more you seemed to want to talk.

“So, can I ask you something?” You blurted.

“No.”

“Oh.”

An even more tense silence filled the air between the two of you as you focused on the road ahead. Joel sighed and shook his head, “What?”

“You said you don’t have a pack.” You continued on with your line of questioning despite the lackluster permission he gave.

“Is there a question somewhere in there?”

“Is it true?” You asked. “I don’t think I’ve ever met a werewolf without a pack.”

“Well, now you have. Congrats.” Joel replied dryly.

Your cellphone began to vibrate and the name ‘Captain Roberts’ flashed on the screen. You ignored the call, “So, it’s just you and your family then?”

“It’s me 'nd Ellie. That’s it.” Joel grunted. He shrugged after a beat, “Got a brother too but he’s still in the pack. Tried to leave when I did, but I convinced him not to.”

“Oh, so you left on your own.” You voiced the thought aloud. Your phone began to vibrate again. ‘Captain Roberts’. Ignore. “Why…” You were very, very curious as to why a werewolf would willingly leave his pack to be on his own⏤ or on his own with his daughter, you should say. But, it seemed too personal for you to pry into. “What’s Ellie like?”

Joel paused in thought. “She’s smart, but she’s also trouble. Bit of a little shit.” There was a small smile on his face as he said the words. “Obsessed with these stupid jokes 'nd puns.”

“She sounds fun.” You chuckled. “You said she was fourteen?” Joel nodded once. For the third time, your phone began to vibrate and you hit the ignore button with more force than needed. “What⏤”

“You ain't gonna answer that?” Joel questioned.

“No.” You shook your head. “It’s just gonna be a long conversation about disappointment and it’ll probably end in my termination. Roberts, the Captain, likes me, but Miles⏤ the Agent whose nose I broke⏤ he’s kind of a big deal.”

Joel scoffed, “He’s a big deal?”

“Not in a ‘good at his job’ way. More in a ‘my daddy owns you’ kind of way.”

“Got it.”

“Yeah, when he said he was gonna get me fired he meant it.” You sighed. “It’s all about knowing the right people, and he’s related to the right people so it’s even worse.”

“That’s fucked up.”

“You’re telling me.” You mumbled with a sigh. This time there was a notification about a voicemail being left along with the missed calls. That was not a message you were eager to listen to. The rest of the drive passed in silence, but it wasn’t as tense as the start of the trip. You drove your car off road where the map suggested. The map had a shaded portion where the coven supposedly was, and you prayed they hadn’t recently moved. You drove, scanning for some kind of the symbol drawn on the map, and when Joel spotted it carved into a tree you parked the car. “So, you’re not going to like what I’m going to say…”

“Then don’ say it.”

“I think you should stay with the car.” You said it anyways.

Joel stared at you as if you had grown a second head, “Are you outta your gods damned mind? I’m not sittin' here 'nd waitin'⏤”

“If it’s me alone I can talk to them as an Agent of the DMA and question⏤”

“You’re not an Agent.”

“I’m also not a werewolf.” You snapped. Joel had his jaw locked so tight that you could hear him grinding his teeth against one another. You held a hand out towards him to plead your case. “I’m not gonna say that I get it because I don’t have a kid. I could never fully understand how you feel right now, but… Joel, I’m going to do everything in my power to help you find Ellie. If we go in together it’ll stir them up, but maybe if I’m alone they’ll stay calm enough to answer some questions. I’m not a threat to them. I’m just a dumb human, after all.”

Joel turned away and rubbed his face. The exhaustion and frustration were clear to see. He sighed, “Fine. You have twenty minutes. Twenty minutes 'nd then I’m goin' after you whether you like it or not.”

“Deal.” You agreed.

You reached over him, he stiffened at the closeness, but you mumbled an apology and rooted through your glove compartment. There was a small, travel bottle of perfume that Nima had tucked away for you. It was one you never used, a bit too strong for your liking, but she was adamant about keeping it around in case of emergent night outs when you needed to get ready on the go. There was a collection of hair products and makeup tucked somewhere in your back seat too.

After finding it, you opened the car door and began to spray it all over yourself. It took only two squirts of the bottle when Joel began to cough. He rubbed his nose with a deep frown, “What the fuck are you doin'?”

“I’m trying to get the smell of wolf off of me.”

“You’re ruinin' your scent.” Joel grumbled with no further elaboration. You sprayed yourself three more times just to be sure, and ended up hacking up a long yourself as the strong floral scent hit you like a truck. Joel chuckled, “See?”

“Here’s to hoping the Mandalorians hate how I smell too. I’ll be right back.”

You closed the driver’s side door and marched out to walk past the tree with the carving. Joel called out after you, and when you glanced over your shoulder you saw he had rolled the window down. Joel nodded once, “Careful, sweetheart.”

With a reassuring smile, you gave him a thumbs up that he shook his head at before rolling the window back up. Your reassuring smile falter once you faced away from him and you steeled your nerves as you pressed into the thick of the trees. You could do this. You could handle this. You were vital.

The goal was to follow the trail of carved symbols in the trees. It drove you deeper into the forest and after finding four more you noticed that the path had looped you into a circle so you were back in front of symbol three. Worry briefly flooded your senses as you thought you may have taken a wrong turn and time was ticking down. Joel would be kicking down your car door to come find you and gods knew with the amount of perfume you wore it wouldn’t be hard.

You blew out an annoyed breath and kept on, but you only got a few feet further when a figure suddenly loomed in front of you.

“Gods!” You cried and scrambled back a few steps. The Mandalorian in front of you was towering in height and immensely broad. He wore navy pieces of armor, and you couldn’t fathom how someone so large and dressed in so much metal could be so loud. He stood still, like a statue, and his blank helmet stared down at you. Quickly, you readjusted your stance and cleared your throat. With as much confidence as you could muster, you pulled out the badge and flashed it at him⏤ introducing yourself as an Agent with your last name. “I’m with the DMA, and I’d like you to take me to your leader.” You winced as the words came out awkward. “I mean, I’d like to speak with someone on a missing persons case. I believe it would be in the benefit of your coven. Is there someone in charge I can speak to?”

The Mandalorian said nothing and you tucked your badge back into your pocket. You weighed the pros and cons of opening your mouth again, but before you could come to a conclusion he held his hand out toward you. Hesitantly, you reached out and the second your fingers brushed against his the Mandalorian tugged you toward himself and threw you over his shoulder. A cry of disdain left your lips but the world became a sudden blur of color and sound as wind whipped past you and with a few blinks you were no longer in the forest. He dropped you with no announcement and you grunted as you hit the cold, stone floor.

“Thanks for the warning.” You scoffed and tried to get your bearings. Nausea rolled through you and the room felt like it was spinning. When your brain finally caught up to what had happened, you glanced around to see he had carried you into a cavern. Light spilled from overhead, like a spotlight, and with a glance up you realized he had dropped down into this cave system.

“Come.” The Mandalorian grunted and you struggled to your feet to follow him.

As he led you deeper into the cave, the walls were lit with torches. Doorways into other halls and rooms were carved into the wall, but this Mandalorian led you straight down the center. Other Mandalorians like him began to gather and peer out of the spaces to stare at you and it took all of your might to keep your shoulders straight and your chin held high.

At the end of the cavern, was a circular room that was taller than it was wide. A stone structure was built in the center of the room and the shape and fire burning at it’s center reminded you of an old timey forge where weapons used to be made. The navy Mandalorian you had been following barked out in a different language⏤ Mando’a if you remembered correctly⏤ and a different Mandalorian with a helmet of gold stepped out from a back doorway into the room. The shape of her armor seemed more feminine and around her waist hung a thick metal hammer.

“You are not the Agent described to me.” She said in a smooth and calm voice.

“Sorry?” You replied confused.

She repeated your last name. “You are not her.”

Your eyes widened, “Oh. Oh! Right, no. Um, you’re thinking of my mother. You knew her?”

“Very well.” The Mandalorian confirmed. Two other Mandalorians stepped into the circular room just to stand against the wall with the large navy one, and it made your skin crawl nervously. It seemed like overkill. Just one Mandalorian could demolish you. You didn’t understand why they needed a total of four with you. “Why are you here, young one?”

You nodded, back to business, “This morning I saw a Mandalorian at the DMA headquarters. He was filing a report on a missing child. He was⏤ His armor was all silver. Like a shiny silver, and his under suit looked brown?” You tried to recall any details you remembered of him, but it was really the bright shine to his armor that stayed in your mind. “Anyways, we’ve had a string of missing children and I wanted to speak to this Mandalorian⏤”

The three Mandalorians behind you barked out a word you didn’t recognize and you jumped in place. The leader hummed, “He is no Mandalorian.”

“Uh,” You squinted with a twist of your lips, “He looked very Mandalorian⏤”

They barked the same word again. She spoke once more, “Din Djarin.”

“What?”

“That is the man you seek.” She said. “He has broken his creed. He is Mandalorian no longer. We do not associate with him.” You scrunched your nose in disbelief. Of all the rotten luck. You manage to actually find the mysterious Mandalorian coven only to find out that the one Mandalorian you sought out was excommunicated from his coven. Great. “Is that all you have come for?”

“Technically, yes.” You replied slowly. “Unless, do you know anything about his kid? Or where I can find him?”

“No.” She answered simply and bluntly. Fantastic. Outside the room, you could hear hissed whispers and low growls. Two sounds you never considered good news. “Are you prepared to pay your price?”

You focused back on her, “The price for what?”

“For your life.”

At those three words, you felt your blood run cold. Nowhere in your mom’s journal did it mention any sort of price. The noises outside grew louder and one of the angry growls was unfortunately familiar. You cursed under your breath and turned just in time for two Mandalorians to drag in a thrashing Joel. They forced him to his knees with a hiss. One gloved hand clamped around the back of his neck and you saw Joel’s teeth lengthen as the color of his eyes began to flicker in shade.

“Joel.” You blurted and his eyes lifted to meet yours. You gave a discreet shake of your head, and the burning gold of his eyes returned to a warm brown.

“Your twenty minutes was up.” He grunted.

“Young one.” You spun in place and the leader of the Mandalorians was dangerously close. You tried to take a step back, but her hand wrapped around your throat. Joel snarled for her to let you go, and you held up a hand behind you in hopes to reassure him. Her hand wasn’t restricting your air. It just rested there. A vague threat. “Will you pay your price?”

You swallowed, unable to see a situation where denying her ended well for either of you, “Yes?”

The leader used the hand around your throat to tilt your head up and to the side, exposing your neck, and then she moved quicker than you could see. Her other arm was a blur and you felt a sting of pain against your neck. The room’s air seemed to thicken with tension as she held up a blade smeared with your blood. She released you and began to stalk toward the forge. You rubbed at your neck nervously. You weren’t bleeding out, but it shook you to your core all the same. The leader whispered in Mando’a before flicking beads of your bright red blood into the fire at the forge’s center. The blue flames flashed white before returning to their natural state.

She turned and tucked the knife away. “You have paid your price. Paz will take you above ground.” She nodded to the navy Mandalorian that had brought you in. “The wolf stays.”

“Wait, no⏤” You began.

“He will die for trespassing.”

“Hang on!” You scooted away from Paz. “Can’t he pay the price? Or can I pay for him?” Somehow, through a helmet, the leader managed to shoot you a dry look. That’s how you interpreted it, at least. Paz was stalking toward you as Joel thrashed in the arms of the Mandalorians and your mind raced for a plan. Just as he reached out to grab you, you blurted, “Riddur!”

The room froze and even Joel paused in his rage to stare at you. The leader titled her head. You pointed back to Joel, “He is my riddur.”

“You know what that word means?” She questioned.

“Yes.” You nodded. The Mandalorians were the most family oriented of the vampire covens. The bond between lovers was sacred. ‘Riddur’ was translated to spouse, but it carried a heavier weight than the english word. They may have hated wolves, but you prayed to the gods that they respected the bond enough to let it carry over outside the coven. “Please. Don’t do this.”

There was an agonizing pause where you could feel your heart trying to beat out of your chest. The leader gave a curt nod and you breathed a sigh of relief. “You may take your riddur and leave.” The Mandalorians released Joel and stepped back. You hurried over to his side to loop an arm through his. “But, young one?” You stared at the leader and the gaze she cast your way was nerve wracking. “Do not come here again. The price to pay next time will be steep.”

You nodded and mumbled a thanks before dragging Joel out the way you had come in. All the Mandalorians in the cave continued to stare. Joel kept pace with you and whispered, “Ellie? Did you find the Mandalorian we were lookin' for?”

“No. He’s not here. He was kicked out of his coven.” You replied. “We have to look elsewhere.”

Joel spat a curse out under his breath, but thankfully he continued to rush out with you rather than turn back. As you reached the spot where you entered you suddenly remembered that it hadn’t been you who came in. You stared up at the hole in the ground and sighed, “Joel⏤”

“Hold on.” Joel scooped you up and jumped. You yelped in surprise at the height he managed. It cleared the hold and he landed on the ground by the edge. At the landing, you heard his knees crack and Joel grumbled in annoyance before setting you down. “Let’s go.”

“You don’t have to tell me twice.” You replied.

The two of you sped through the forest and didn’t slow your pace until your car was in sight. Joel glanced your way, “Riddur.” He repeated the word. “What does that mean?”

“Oh, uh, it means spouse?” You offered. “In the werewolf setting I suppose the closer term would be ‘mate’? It’s a bond between lovers.” Joel raised an eyebrow and you felt your cheeks grow warm. “I just knew that Mandalorians took that kind of thing seriously. It was the only idea I had to get us out of there.”

He stared for a long moment, long enough to make you nervously rub the back of your neck, and then he nodded, “Thanks for that. I… I appreciate your help.” Joel grunted uncomfortably. Your lips twitched up into a smile. The two of you reached the car and climbed in. Before you could start it up, Joel cleared his throat. “It was 'cause of Ellie.”

“What?”

“Earlier. I know you wanted to ask why I left my pack. It was for Ellie.” Joel responded. “She… We’re not related by blood. She’s actually… Ellie is only half wolf.” Your eyes widened in surprise, but you stayed silent so he could continue. “My pack didn’ want half breeds. That’s where they drew the line.” Joel sunk in his seat and rubbed his jaw⏤ a nervous tick of his you were realizing. “But she’s my daughter. They didn’ get that so I left.”

You pressed your lips together and started to reach out to touch his shoulder, but at last minute you dropped your hand and shot him a smile. “Thank you for telling me. We are going to find her.” You shrugged. “We need some other way to find the ex-Mandalorian, but we have a name now and I… I‘ll think of something. I swear it, Joel. I’m not gonna rest until we find her, okay?”

“Yeah, alright, sweetheart.” He replied. You started the car and began to turn it around when Joel let out a cough. “You smell awful, by the way.”

“Thank you for that. Appreciate it very much.”

Come hell or high water, you were going to find Din Djarin. As you drove, a few ideas came to mind. Terrible, terrible ideas, but beggars can’t be choosers at the end of the day. You shot Joel another glance out of the corner of your eye and your resolve steeled. This was more than just about redeeming yourself and getting your job back. You were going to find Ellie for Joel even if it killed you.

For notifs on updates, as I no longer do taglists, please follow @theidiotupdates

Banners by @cafekitsune

#the mandalorian #din djarin #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #joel miller #the last of us fanfiction #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller x female reader #din djarin x female reader #pedro pascal characters #the mandalorian fanfiction #werewolf!joel miller #vampire!din djarin

240 notes · View notes

ozarkthedog · 9 months ago

Text

I'm hunted like a wolf I feed, I feed like a wolf I'm lost and I'm lonely I hunger for you only Don't leave me now Don't break the spell

You spend a lonely night by yourself camping in the woods. The forest feels more alive than usual, but it's eerily and deadly quiet. The silent spell breaks as an ominous, sharp howl echoes into the night, slicing through the pitch black abyss.

A heavy, dreadful sensation sinks into your soul.

Danger is coming.

It will stalk you, chase you through the trees, and run you down until you're gasping for your last breath, and then…

it'll make you his.

not sure if any more will come of this but i felt inspired after listening to 'Wolf' by the yeah yeah yeahs on repeat over the last few days.

#joel miller #werewolf!joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #werewolf!joel miller x reader #werewolf!joel miller x you #pedro pascal

92 notes · View notes

goldenlikedayl1ght · 1 year ago

Text

season of the witch - j. miller

a/n: first joel fic! got super into this one, and it's super long. uhhhh hope you enjoy and happy october! also want to give a huge shoutout to @luveline for her au writing and her luna lovegood!reader which was a huge inspiration to this fic. love you jade!! warnings: spooky themes, kissing, mentions of yearning, don't think too deeply about the dialogue sometimes i kind of hate this ok, ellie and reader being best friends, dana struggling, like kind of horror stuff, some angst, burns, mentions of murder word count: 5.1k summary: you've lived in the small town of everbrook for a while now, and you thought nothing could shock you anymore. you're wrong. paring: monsterhunter!joel x witch!reader now playing: season of the witch - donavan "you've got to pick up every stich/oh no, must be the season of the witch"

Ever since you moved to Everbrook, you could tell everyone around you thought of you as odd. You were twenty-two, what were you doing living in a small old cabin outside of town? Didn’t you want to go to parties, do drugs, whatever it was that kids did these days?

Maybe that’s why you loved Everbrook, it felt like time had stood still even now, years after you had visited as a small child. There was something charming about it, as if you had stepped into a fairytale. Only fairytales had less gossip than Everbrook did.

You had frequented Everbrook every Halloween as a kid. Your grandmother had lived in your cabin once, and much like you, she had a house and a mind full of secrets and spells. Your grandfather died before you were born, and that was when your grandmother hauled all her things to buy this cozy nook of Everbrook.

And every Halloween, she would whisk you and your siblings away to celebrate. The town loved Halloween and was known for its fairs and parades. And it’s dark corners.

To tourists, just like you were as a kid, whispers of vampires, ghosts and witches were just silly ways to get them to buy merchandise.

But your grandmother swore by these stories, telling you to be careful of how you spoke ill of the supernatural. And it was only on your fourteenth birthday did you truly find out why.

You could never describe it, why your grandmother showed up on the dark and stormy night that was the eve of your birthday. It was like she knew something was going on, something bigger than just turning fourteen.

When you woke up the next morning, you couldn’t control anything. Things flew off your shelves before you could fully grab them, candles lit with nothing but a gentle blow of wind from your mouth, and when you went to school that day, an infamous bully had decided to pick on you the wrong day. You just glared at her, telling her to “eat frogs.”

As the first frog hopped out of her mouth, you stood horrified. Then the next one came. And the next one.

You didn’t stop running until you got home, where your grandmother sat, swirling her spoon in her cup of tea. Her hand didn’t touch the spoon. She told you that day of the truth. That every other generation, a child is chosen to become a witch in your family. Your father missed it. And she told you the story of your grandfather, a monster hunter sent to kill her. But something had happened on that mission, something no one could explain. They had fallen in love.

And for years, your grandfather was able to tell the entire hunting community that she was off limits. When he died, he told her to move to Everbrook.

“Why Everbrook?” You had asked, and she looked at you, with this mischievous smile.

“Surely you understand, my dear.” When you said nothing, she chuckled. “There’s magic there. Magic that keeps hunters from going anywhere near the place. That’s why there are so many monsters there today. Witches, like me and you, we’re harder to find. But vampires, ghosts, demons. They’re all real. And a lot of them live on sacred land like Everbrook.” She explained. “That’s why we must go, and I must teach you how to control your gifts—”

You stood up, seemingly horrified by this idea. You weren’t some kind of freak; you were totally normal. You had no reason to go with her.

“I’m not going with you! I’m nothing like you!” You stormed off to your room, inclining her to drop the topic for now.

Time and time again, your grandmother would encourage you to let her teach you. Instead, you sheltered yourself away from the world, focusing on maintaining the abilities you had. They terrified you. You were just a kid, how could you be a scary witch, something that was made up to scare small children into behaving?

So, you never went to your grandma’s house again. And you didn’t celebrate Halloween, and for a long time, you pretended. Pretended you were normal, when you went to college, in your relationships.

But the past eventually caught up with you when your grandmother passed away. She had left you her house in Everbrook, as well as a small sum of money. She had written you a letter, begging you to move there, to read her old books and to embrace who you were.

It took you almost a year, but you did.

That was a long time ago, and yet, it was also yesterday.

You lived a peaceful life in Everbrook. You learned how to at least properly manage your magic, not yet totally mastering it. You planted a garden and made sure your vegetables and herbs were always taken care of.

You made friends with various groups of monsters, your favorite being a ghost that haunted your favorite coffee shop in town. You live a good life, one devoid of people chasing you and trying to kill you for what you could do. You were simple the village crazy person, always on the outskirts of town in your own little world.

Sure, Everbrook was a small, quaint town. A little too small at times, but you loved your small crazy time. Nothing went exceptionally wrong here.

That is, until you meet a monster hunter named Joel.

• • •

Okay, you don’t know he’s a monster hunter when you meet him. He doesn’t know you’re a witch, so what did it matter?

He had moved to Everbrook with a kid, Ellie. You wondered why. Why a man in his late forties, early fifties, would adopt a teenager, and why they would move to this strange little town, away from everything.

You meet him in the bookstore. You, in between tending to your garden and learning spells, are determined to learn how to bake. You’re a good cook, but baking doesn’t come nearly as easily to you.

He’s shopping for comic books when you see him. You note everything about him, letting your head tilt to the side as you examine him. He wears this green and black flannel, appropriate for this time of year. His jeans are this dark blue, and his boots have leaves sticking to the bottom of them. The roots of his hair, and small pieces of his beard, are gray.

You bite your tongue.

You’re suddenly seventeen years old, with your first real crush on a guy. He was your older brother’s best friend. You suppose you’ve always had a thing for older guys, then. It was just a habit you’ve picked up on. Not that you weren’t of an appropriate age, but there was still a gap.

“Didn’t your mother ever teach you it was rude to stare?” He asks, not looking up from the comic he’s inspecting. Your head turns, trying to tell if he’s talking to you or someone else. Besides the bored employee at the front counter, you’re the only two people in the store.

“How’d you know I was staring?” He chuckles, looking up to you for the first time, and he’s struck by your appearance. You’re wearing these dangly crystal earrings, with lavender flowers sticking out of your belt. You wear boots too, although they’re much less dirty than his, and sticking out of them are bunched up woolly socks. You’re holding a basket, with a loaf of bread inside, as well as a jar of jam and some chocolates. Your shirt is this deep purple, and the sleeves become nice and flowy after your elbows.

“Just had this feelin’, darling.” Your cheeks flush at the nickname.

“This feeling?” You mutter to yourself, not really asking for clarification. You take a few steps forward, flipping through the comic books. You don’t look at him. “Looking for anything specific?”

“Comics for my... for a friend. Turnin’ fourteen, figured I should get her something.” He tells you. You cringe at the age, remembering your horrible fourteenth birthday.

“You have a friend that’s a fourteen-year-old girl?” You question, a light teasing tone to your voice. He gives you this look, one of sarcasm and disbelief, without a touch of annoyance or anger.

“Will you just give me a suggestion, or are you going to keep asking questions?” He asks.

“Touche.” You say, before pulling out a cool sci-fi one that had been recommended to you. “Here, get her this one.” You hand it to him, and he examines it for a few minutes, seemingly trying to get a grip on what it is and what the plot was. But, he figures his friend will enjoy it, so he glances back at you and smiles.

“Thank you,” He pauses, asking you for your name without asking for it. You tell him, and he still has this small smile on his face. “I’m Joel. Joel Miller. Am I gonna be seein’ you around?” He asks. You shrug.

“I live on the outskirts of town, in this little cottage. I only come into town every so often.”

“The old brick one with the overgrown garden?” You frown. “I live in that area, in the cabin with the blue mailbox.”

“My garden is not overgrown, Mr. Miller, it’s just full!” You defend. But it perplexes you, no one except introverts and people who want to stay hidden live in that area. You wonder what Joel Miller could possibly be hiding but convince yourself for the moment that Joel Miller is just an introvert. After all, that’s what you tell people when they ask about you. He chuckles, shaking his head.

“Then I’ll see you around, Darlin’.” He hums, and nods to you, “Thanks for the help.” Then he goes to the counter to pay for the gift, and then he’s gone. You must have this perplexed look on your face, because the woman at the counter, Angela, just smirks as she rings you up.

“He’s handsome, huh?”

“What?”

“The guy you were talking to.”

“Well, I can’t say he’s not handsome.” Your face flushes. She laughs, although not maliciously. \

“Even fairies who live on the outskirts of town like you deserve love.”

“’m not a fairy...” You mumble as you make your way out of the shop, head turning down the sidewalks to see if you can spot Joel. When you can’t, you begin your long walk home, disappointment stabbing at you the whole time.

• • •

The next time you see Joel, you go to his house.

You don’t go to see Joel, but you made these homemade chocolate chip cookies, and they turned out a lot better than you expected. You want to share your creation with someone, so you head to the cabin with the blue mailbox in hopes of finding the young girl he lives with and giving her them as a birthday present.

You decide, on the off chance that you do see Joel, to wear this cute dark green jumper, with a black layered skirt, as well as your standard black boots. You put your hair up with a bandana and head over to your destination. It’s colder than it was the other day when you met him, but it’s nice.

In your basket, you keep the cookies, as well as a bundle of flowers from your garden. You knock on the door, and a young girl answers, her hair pulled back. She wears ripped jeans, an Adventure Time tee shirt and a long-sleeved black shirt under it.

“Uh... Can I help you?” She asks.

“Hi! Does Joel live here?” You’re sure he does, but you want to make sure just in case. The girl gets this smirk on her face, and you feel your ears go red.

“You’re the one from the bookstore.”

“…He told you about me?”

“Won’t shut up about you. I’m Ellie.” She smiles, and opens the door further, inviting you to come in. “He’s upstairs, I can grab him for you—”

“Uh, I’m actually here to see you.” She stops and looks at you. “He told me it was your birthday, and I decided to give you these.” You pull out the cookies and the flowers and hand them to her. She gasps at the sight of the cookies, delicately putting the flowers down before grabbing a cookie. She hums, looking to you.

“These are amazing! I haven’t had good cookies in so long, Joel isn’t much of a baker,”

“Neither am I, honestly. I’m still learning, but I figured it was your birthday and you deserve some.”

“Could’ve fooled me.” She hums, finishing her cookie.

From the top of the stairs, you hear a familiar voice yell out, “Ellie, who was at the door?”

“Come down here and find out, old man!” You laugh, but quickly stop laughing when he comes down the stairs. His hair is wet from the shower. You want to scream at how good he looks. He just stares at you, and neither of you says anything until you decide to go first.

“Uhm, I brought cookies.” You say, “I’m sorry for the intrusion.”

“No, no, you didn’t intrude... I just, wasn’t expecting you is all.” He says honestly. You begin to look around a bit at your surroundings and realize that Joel and Ellie have been living the bachelor life, and there aren’t many boxes. You wonder if they had any boxes to begin with, since it seems they’re close but there’s something off about the whole dynamic. You can’t put your finger on it, but you see that Ellie clearly isn’t here against her will.

But who are you to judge? You live a witch’s life, and that isn’t something you share on a first date.

“Well, help yourself to a cookie,”

“Hey! You said these were my birthday cookies!”

“Ellie!” Joel scolds, looking back at you. “Would you like a cup of coffee?”

“Sure, that would be nice.” You smile, and he gets you one. “Would you like to go outside to talk?” You ask softly, and he just smiles and nods, grabbing a cookie before going out with you and your coffee. You lean against the porch railing, sipping your coffee. You wait for him to begin the conversation, suddenly quite nervous.

“So…How long have you lived in Everbrook?”

“A while. Are you gonna be here for a while?” You ask.

“I think so. I like it here, nice, and quiet.”

“Yeah, it’s nice.” You hum. “How’d you wind up with Ellie?”

“I uhm… I adopted her. Knew her folks.”

“Oh, I’m sorry...”

“’s alright...” He smiles gently and sips his coffee. “She liked that comic book you recommended, so thanks...”

“No problem. She’s a nice kid.” You smile.

“So, what’s your deal, Darlin’?”

“My deal?”

“You’re always dressed in these crazy outfits, and you have this dazed look about you. Like a little bunny.” Your face flushes, and you laugh.

“I just like living the simple life. So, what if I dress a little eccentrically? You dress like a lumberjack all the time, am I gonna see you chopping trees?” You tease, smiling gently. He laughs and it makes you all warm inside. Maybe he really likes you.

“No, no chopping trees for me.” he said gently, leaning against the banister.

“Well, what do you do for work?” He pauses and stares out into the forest ahead of him.

“I used to be a hunter.”

A chill runs down your spine, and you begin to think. It would make sense, his sudden showing up in Everbrook, his interest in you. But how does that connect back to Ellie? Why would he adopt a teenager in his line of work?

Why hasn’t he killed you, then?

“Yeah. My grandfather was a hunter. Until he met my grandmother, then he couldn’t do it anymore.”

Joel stays silent, sipping his coffee.

• • •

About a week goes by, and Joel shows up at your door. The top part of your door is swung open and you’re cooking dinner when he walks up the path through your garden. He calls your name into the open door, and you quickly appear. You grin at him, and then you notice the bouquet of wildflowers he holds in his hands.

“These are for you.” he says softly, and you take them, a large grin on your face.

“Thank you. They’re gorgeous.” You tell him.

“Pretty girl like you deserves pretty flowers.” He says, and your cheeks flush.

“Please, come in.” You tell him, opening the bottom of the Dutch door. He steps inside, and notices how warm it is. Not temperature wise, but there’s this feeling to it. Warm yellow lights, plants everywhere, the smell of dinner cooking on the stove. Somewhere from deeper in the house, music plays.

“What’re you cookin’?”

“Oh, I’m making chicken parm…Do you want to stay for dinner?” You’ve never asked anyone to stay for dinner, it’s a bizarre feeling.

“I’d like that.”

“Alright, good. Then set the table, and then we can eat.” You tell him. He hums and goes to do as he is told. Eventually, you manage to plate and serve dinner, sitting across from him. You watch him for his reaction to the food, and after a few bites he just hums lowly, and looks at you, pointing to the dish with his fork, not saying anything. You grin. “I’m glad you like it.”

“Thank you for having me for dinner. I came over to apologize, really.”

“Apologize?”

“I didn’t mean to tell you I was a hunter. I know how off putting that could be for someone, to hear I hunted animals.”

You can’t confirm your suspicions that he was hunting more than just animals. So you let it go, in favor for him not pushing you and finding out that you were a witch.

“It’s alright, Joel. Everyone has to make a living somehow, right?” You hum. He smiles and nods. “So, where’s Ellie tonight?”

“Eh, I wanted to give her some time to herself.”

“Good man.” You smile, continuing to eat your food.

“Where’d you happen to come upon this little cottage?” He asks you, tilting his head.

“I inherited it from my grandmother.” You told him, a soft smile on your face, as there always was when you thought of her. “She was a good woman. She passed away when I was twenty-one.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.” He tells you, and you can tell by this look in his eyes that there’s something more to his sentiment. That this is a man who has known grief well and is haunted by it. You wonder if he toured the country killing people like you before or after he became good friends with grief.

“It’s okay. I got to move here and live a good life.” You confess, and this makes him smile again. Then, you can’t help but ask. “Why’d you move to Everbrook, Joel?” He tenses at your questions. You can tell he’s contemplating what to tell you. You know whatever he tells you will only be a half truth no matter what.

“Ellie got into some trouble where I used to live. Figured a place like this would be good for her. Safe.” You can tell it’s not a lie, but you aren’t satisfied with it. That’s when you realize you have to know. You do know that all hunters have the same tattoo, right above their inner elbow on their biceps. It’s always a bow and arrow, with the hunter’s initials incorporated into the arrow. You also know the tattoo is protected by some sort of seal that burns most creatures to the touch. You have to know. So, with a wave of your hand, subtly, the glass of wine Joel drinks from spills all over his flannel, and he huffs.

“Oh my god, here,” You start handing him napkins as he attempts to clean up the mess. He glances up at you, and his eyes have this look about them. Like he knows you were the reason it spilt. Then, he starts to unbutton and pull off his flannel before he suddenly remembers that you would see his Hunter’s mark. You realize he knows your plan and stand, going over to him and dabbing his flannel with your napkin.

“C’mon Joel, take the flannel off.” You sigh, and he says nothing. He slowly begins to pull off the flannel, but before you can really look for a tattoo, his hands are on your waist, pulling you between his legs.

He leans up and kisses you before you can see the tattoo. You put your hands on his cheeks and kiss back, bringing yourself closer to him. He hums into the kiss, standing up and walking, so that you’re up against your counter tops.

His hands are roaming your sides, and you groan softly into the kiss. The desperation you’ve had since you met him, it all comes to a head. Your hands first go to his hair, where they play with his hair, including the grays that threaten to push you over the edge.

Despite your suspicions that he wants to kill you, you want him desperately. You groan as he bites your lip, tugging it a bit, and you just moan. Your hand runs down his arm, because just for a moment, you forget the context of the kiss.

You pull away when your hand starts to burn, letting out a yell.

He looks terrified that you’ve found him out. Tears prick your eyes.

“I knew it..” You whisper softly, turning to run your hand under cold water. Joel’s tattoo glows, as it always did when anything supernatural touched it. “I think you should go.”

“Darlin’, I—”

“Go, Joel! I don’t want you here, just fucking kill me when I’m walking home from the market! Don’t kiss me like you want me when you’re here to kill me!” You snap, tears running down your face. He doesn’t say anything after that. He steps forward and kisses your shoulder gently.

He turns and leaves, and even though you tell him to leave, you turn back hoping to see him.

The worst part is that nothing makes sense anymore. He’s stronger than you. If he wanted to kill you, he could have. And how does Ellie fit into the situation, why would he move to a magical town with a teenage girl?

You’re frustrated, and your hand is burning. You cry some more as you attempt to clean the spilt wine, frustrated that it stains the rug that the table stands on. You were such an idiot, why would you let him kiss you? Why would you kick him out after?

You decide a cup of tea will help clear your mind, but you don’t stop crying all night.

• • •

The full moon looks beautiful tonight. You’ve charged your crystals and have done your monthly rituals to enable a prosperous month ahead. So, at around midnight, you go for a walk through the woods. Even though you know how dangerous it is. The woods, on nights like tonight, are full of werewolves. But most of them live in their own woods across town, so you don’t expect to have any problems.

As you’re walking, you’re thinking about Joel. You can’t help it, your kiss has you yearning for more, and you’re just desperate for him. You’re too deep in your thoughts to hear footsteps behind you, until someone grabs your arm and you’re pulled behind a tree.

And when you see Joel, you’re even more mad at him.

“What’re you doin’ here?!” He whisper-yells, and you glare.

“What are you doing here?! I’m allowed to go for walks whenever I want, you aren’t the boss of me!”

“Always so damn in your own mind, could you consider for a moment that I’m just trying to make sure you’re okay?!”

“You’re here to kill me!”

“I’m here to make sure Ellie doesn’t kill anyone or get herself killed!”

You stop.

“What...?” That’s when you hear it, a howl. It sends a shiver down your spine. And that’s when it all clicks. Joel isn’t hunting you; he isn’t here to kill you. Ellie isn’t a kid he adopted from a friend, she’s someone he’s assigned to protect. He used to hunt, but not anymore. “She’s a werewolf.” You look at him.

“And you’re a witch, are we all caught up now?”

“How’d you know?’

“Before the mark burnt you and you spilled my wine? I just knew. I hunted people for years, but you witches, you always have these cabins in the woods, and you’re always baking, and you always have flowers. It’s like y’all are one big stereotype—” He’s cut off by your lips on his, and his hands are on your hips again, pushing you against a nearby tree. You hum before he pulls away, starting to kiss down your neck.

“Joel...” You say softly, your hands in his hair.

“I’ve got you, sweet thing...” He mutters, biting down on your neck, leaving a mark.

Ellie howls again, closer now. It snaps you both out of your trance and you look to each other. He grabs your hand, and you make your way through the woods, back to your cabin. He’ll make sure you get home safe, and then he’ll continue to look after Ellie. But he hears it before you—Panting, pattering steps behind you.

“Run!” He tells you and you both take off. Twigs scrape the bottoms of your legs and your arms as you run, never letting go of Joel’s hand. Your skirt catches on one of these branches and you topple over, letting go of Joel’s hand. Before he can reach you, Ellie is on top of you—She’s smaller than other werewolves you’ve encountered but the weight of her fur is too much. She has you caged in, and she has this snarl on her face.

Then, the strangest thing happens. She starts to sniff your skin, as if trying to figure out who you are.

“It’s me, Ellie. It’s just me, ‘m not gonna hurt you, honey.” You tell her. And it’s as if a lightbulb switches inside of her head, and suddenly she’s licking your face, happy you’re here. You groan at the slober, and gently push her head away from you.

She backs off, letting you get up. You kneel back down to scratch her head.

“Why were we running if we knew she wouldn’t kill me?” You ask.

“Didn’t know that. She doesn’t attack me, but she’s attacked others.” He tells you. You hum, picking up a stick and waving it in front of her face, before throwing it as far as you can. She runs off to get the stick. It makes you laugh.

You stand fully now, glancing back to Joel.

“So…”

“I gotta finish looking after her. She’s my mission now.” You nod, stepping closer to him.

“Well..” You start, your hands on his shoulders. “You could at least kiss me again.” He grins and leans down, kissing you softly before pulling away.

“Like that?”

“Hmm, I was thinking something with a little more passion...” You shrug. “It was okay, I guess.” You tease, and he smiles, then brings you in for a longer, deeper kiss.

You spend all night with Joel, looking after Ellie and kissing until dawn. When the morning comes, you go out in search of Ellie on your own, a blanket and some pajamas in hand. Joel’s searching the other way. You find her, cold and alone, huddled up by herself. You frown.

You crouch beside her and wrap the blanket around her, frowning softly.

“Sorry I licked you.” She says softly. You recognize the tone of her voice. Her shame in who she is. You empathize with it, remembering how horrible it was to be fourteen. You smile and hand her the clothes.

“Don’t worry about it.” You turn so she can get dressed, but the blanket remains wrapped around her shoulders. You realize she doesn’t have shoes on. You frown and pull off your boots, kneeling in front of her. You gently put your socks on her feet, and then your boots. You lace them up, and make sure they’re nice and tight. “There. Nice and warm.”

You glance back up to her, and you see tears running down her face. You frown and bring a hand to cup her cheek. She doesn’t have to say anything, you know she feels ashamed and embarrassed of her newfound abilities.

“Oh, honey… You don’t have to apologize. I was bitter and angry when I became a witch, and it destroyed me. You come from a very long line of werewolves, and—”

“I’m the first one. I got bit six months ago.” You frown. That’s why this wasn’t Joel’s first time watching over her on a full moon. And you’ve heard of werewolves biting kids before they’re fourteen and starting a new line of the creature.

“Then I’ll teach you. How to live this life, how to be happy in your own skin. It won’t be easier, but embracing who you are is so much easier than ignoring it. I’ll be here every step of the way, and so will Joel. We’re not gonna leave you to deal with this on your own.” You tell her, and when you stand up finally, she hugs you tightly. You smile to yourself and hug back.

“You two okay?” Joel asks when he finally finds you two. Ellie wipes her tears and smiles at him.

“Yeah, let’s go home. I’m sick of these woods, and I want breakfast!” she declares. You laugh, rubbing her back and beginning your walk to their cabin.

This is it, you decide. This man and this girl, they’re it for you. They are your happy ending, your family. Sure, it’s not the most conventional family, what, with a werewolf, a witch, and a monster hunter. But it’s yours, and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t thrilled to have them.

You have spent so many years longing for someone to see who you are and love you despite your freakish abilities. But all along, you were meant to be around freaks who are just like you. You are designed to be each other’s family, and you were always destined for the fate of your grandmother—To fall in love with a monster hunter and live a quiet life in Everbrook as you perfect your spells.

Joel looks back at you for a moment with this perplexed look on his face.

“Darlin’, where the hell are your shoes?”

#joel miller #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #the last of us #tlou #joel miller fic #joel miller au #ellie williams #ellie williams x platonic reader #ellie williams werewolf au #joel miller monster hunter au #halloween fic #joel miller fluff #joel miller angst #i hate this #i hate doing tags #not proofread

85 notes · View notes

hotgirlbedtimescenarios · 2 months ago

Text

#joel miller fanfiction #joel miller one shot #pedro pascal characters #joel miller x reader #tlou joel #game joel #poll #Joel miller #halloween #joel miller halloween #vampire Joel #werewolf Joel

7 notes · View notes

finnelfin · 5 months ago

Text

Masterpost - Werewolf AU

"I'm gonna explain really politely how stupid they're being, and then leave them, and if anyone wants to come with me, they can. Connor and I'll go alone if we have to, though, I don't give a shit." He turned back to look at the ceiling. Her eyes were better adjusted now, and she could see his profile in the darkness of the house. "You won't be alone."

Taste your beating heart

Let your heart bleed on mine

#masterpost #werewolf au #tlou #the last of us #tess servopoulos #joel miller #tessjoel #joel x tess #cannot get enough werewolves

11 notes · View notes

pedgecalmdown · 11 months ago

Text

my alpha - p.p.

summary:

It’s the full moon, and piss boot seems to be hiding something.. 🤫🤔😈

word count: 1.5k

warnings: werewolf, sticky cheese, uncut wolf wewe, Tight Wolf Butthole, hot dog in bun, pejole many chins, pudgy werewolf, Wet Wolf Willy, Tight Wolf Butthole, brown bloody chunk squirt, unidentified wolf squirt?, Damp Clammy Enclosure, pissicle

It was a dark and stormy night, and you were on the couch with Piggle watching a scary werewolf movie. You noticed your sweet hubby wubby twiddling with his fingies, which you assumed was from the movie. You tried snuggling up to him to calm him down, but to your surprise he actually nudged you away. “Oh.. sorry babe, I’m just not comfortable with that right now. Maybe a little later..” Confused, you replied, “Oh… okay..” You climbed back onto the same position on the couch you were before, but with a newfound worry for your husband. Was he okay? Or was he simply just scared? You didn’t know how to bring up the subject without being awkward, so you just let him be.

You sit on the couch, opposite your husband once again. You felt worried that you had done something wrong, glancing at him every few minutes to see how he’s doing. He makes a peculiar coughing sound and moves his arm quickly to cover a random spot on his other side. He quickly stands up, “um.. I’ll- ill be right back.” He awkwardly trots away, as if something is hurting him. You couldn’t be more confused. You try to direct your attention back to the movie for a few minutes, but you hear a ruckus coming from the bedroom behind you. You debate on seeing what’s wrong, but decide it’s your right to know. You slowly tiptoe your way to the door, and open the doorknob slowly. Even while the door is only slightly cracked, you see a figure writhing around on the floor. ‘is that pissicle?’ You think to yourself. It can’t be, this creature is much too big and hairy to be him. Suddenly, the moonlight barely spills into the room. You’re horrified at the sight in front of you.

Without warning, the creature let’s out an almost agonizing howl while the light of the full moon shines down on him. It holds its head in its hands in pain, and you watch, frozen, as the creature grows bigger and bigger until it finally turns around and you can see its face. It’s… PEETLE?? You duck for cover, totally unsure of what to think. You continue to hear all sorts of ruckus and whatnot coming from the bedroom with the occasional howl, and suddenly, it stops. You peek your head out and see Pedro staring at the mess he caused, fully transformed into a werewolf. Upon examining him, to your dismay, you found his werewolf self actually very attractive. The clothes he was wearing before had ripped upon growing in size, and there was one particular part that had grown exponentially.. Petro turns around and sees you with fear in his eyes. “Y/N!! I’m sorry… I can explain…”

You say nothing. Your eyes are wide and staring at a particular part of him. He starts babbling about how he didn’t want you to see him like this and how this isn’t how he wanted you to find out but all you can do is stay wide eyed and silent. He slowly looks down and realizes what you’re looking at. He was so panicked that he didn’t realize his pants had completely snapped and were now completely gone. His werewolf Willy was out and about, standing straight up and hitting his pudgy furry belly. You start walking towards him and he steps back. “N-no.. im gonna hurt you if you get too close.. im not safe to be around right now!!!” You look into his eyes and step closer until his feet hit the wall. You stare up at him and notice his furry double chins and wolf mustache. His nose is wet with spit and snot and his eyes are teary. He lets out a wet cough and some spit gets on your face. You think back to the movie you two were watching. You didn’t think that werewolf was that scary, after all.

Suddenly, the look in Piddle’s eyes changed. Some primal werewolf instinct must’ve taken over him, because he immediately grabbed you with his paws and marched you over to the bed. You peeped his chins as he cheekily smiled and let go of you to lay down on the bed, large wolf stomach and member all out for you to admire. “You want a bite?” He asks mischievously. “Oh boy..you know I do..” You rub your hands together as if you were a mad scientist and Peejolé was your experiment. You immediately jump on your husband’s stomach, looking at his face and many chins. You gaze into his eyes and say with a smirk, “Where shall we begin?”

You start by rapidly removing your shirt and pants, leaving you in just your underwear. Polio stares at your chest. “Sweet mama! You really gotta sweet pair of milkies 🤤” he says, tongue hanging from his mouth. he brings his paws up to tickle you slightly. “Here comes the tickle monster!” His fingers dance over your stomach and chest, making you fall backwards in laughter. Once you’re on your back, he hovers over you and brings his hands to your underwear, ripping them off and eating them. He licks his lips, or where his lips would be, and starts lowering his head to you and sniffing you at a rapid pace. He sniffs everywhere, getting lower and lower. His chins stick out prominently as he does so. you bring your hand to his head to scratch him, and he lets out a fart of excitement. It quickly fills the room with a hellish, pungent odor. He is a wolf, so it makes sense.

His jaw eventually nears your entrance, and he goes full on wolf ham on you. He knocks you down with the force at which he was tasting you. In all this excitement, you hear multiple squeaks emerge from his butthole. It makes you smile. You were just so glad Pishposh was so comfortable with you. Unfortunately, the smell was so peppery and spiced, you could feel your dinner come back up and splatter all over your pleasurer. He doesn’t even look up at you while he continues to lick your whole body clean. It tickles!!! You’re giggling the whole time, but you eventually have to stop him to return the favor. You glance down at his Wet Wolf Willy and smile. His eyes light up and he squirts a little as he exclaims, “Boy oh boy I can hardly wait!” You cover your mouth with his finger and get to work.

You start licking the ginormous, uncut member, from the base to the tip. He lets out a high pitched moan, and you continue. You use your thumbs and pointer fingers, pinching, to pull down his Wolf Fore Skin to see loads of sticky cheese and buildup. You lick it clean, and savor the taste in your mouth. He shudders and squirts even more, this time coming out with chunks. You can tell he’s about to burst, so you start going faster. ‘Oh I know what’ll get him to blow..’ you think. You slowly sneak your finger under him, and shove it inside his Tight Wolf Butthole. He gasps and moans before letting out his wet, watery, translucent, chunky, brown seed into your mouth. You swallow it all, reveling in the feeling of the chunks sliding down your throat. “I guess it’s time to stuff your bun full of my furry hot dog, huh? 😏” he says with a smirk.

You immediately obey him and lay on your back. You can still feel the squirted brown, bloody chunks sliding down your throat. His Raging Red Rocket was slammed into you, and I mean SLAMMED. The sheer force of his thrust almost made you fly off the bed through the wall. His chins were staring you down as he continued to ram your Damp Clammy Enclosure. He gets so riled that he starts singing the song of his people.

“AWOOOO AWOOOOO AWOOOOOO.”

He’s claiming you as his territory, and you just love it. You feel yourself nearing completion and you let out a guttural moan. He starts pounding harder, so hard in fact that you have to hold onto his fur so he doesn’t propel you through the wall and out yonder. When you finally cum, you let out a loud, “OOGLY BOOGLY!!!” of satisfaction. Projectile looks pleased with his work and he gives you a smooch, except he doesn’t have lips so just licks your mouth. “I hope you enjoyed that as much as I did 😈😇😁”

You look at him with nothing but love in your eyes. “I did :3” you say. He collapses on top of you, crushing you with his weight in the best way possible. His chins land on your face, so you have to fold them away from you to breathe. You start petting his back and his tail starts wagging slowly. You giggle. I guess you could say you were addicted to your werecreature 😉😉

———————————————————————————

A/N

We’re broadening our horizons for this one.. ☝️🤫.. lets just say.. we had some inspo… 😈😉

21 notes · View notes

animasola86 · 2 months ago

Text

🐺 A FILLING EXPERIENCE

knotting!dildo x f!reader 🔥 very explicit 🔥 words: 9.8k

You were a little drunk and very horny when you browsed the website looking for a new sex toy. When your order arrives, however, you feel like you did something very wrong. Or did you? Maybe it'll grow on you? (Not sure that's a good thing, though.) Prepare for a wild ride.

WARNINGS: NSFW! Explicit sexual content! Sex toys! Possessed sex toys. Masturbation. Knotting. Referenced werewolves. Referenced A/B/O dynamics. Possession. Vaginal sex. Breeding. Memory loss. (READ ON AO3!)

A/N: The prompt was "knotting, masturbation, sex toys". The pairing is what it is. For a reference picture of the star of the show (aka the dildo) check it on AO3! (Also, very surprisingly, but this is not an ad for Bad Dragon, I swear.)

You spend a whole minute staring at the item you just pulled out of the unassuming box. The sheer size of it both makes your head spin and mouth very, very dry (at the same time, you feel a growing wetness somewhere much lower). Wow. Just wow. What is that thing? You're absolutely sure you ordered it in a different size, the smallest to be exact, so this can't be right.

Licking your lips, you blink, focusing back on the packaging. There isn't anything on the box, but you find a little sheet of paper next to the satin bag it came with. The dimensions listed make you frown. Putting the hefty item back on your desk, you fumble for the ruler you keep in one of the drawers. Then you start measuring the damn thing.

It's almost nine inches long, if you dismiss the large base that holds it steady to any surface. The head is the smallest part, two inches wide and tapered, the shaft flares out then, you measure two and a half inches in width, sloping into a soft curve lined with ridges and little nubs, before the main attraction protrudes in a rather menacing way: the knot, two bulbous bumps, and they even added thick veins to the design. Your hand is shaking when you put the ruler next to it. Three point five six inches wide.

That's a lot. Way too much. This will never fit inside you. Ever.

And still you are intrigued. Of course you are, you ordered that dildo for a reason, even if it came in the wrong size. (You could return it, you know that, but it's been a thrill to order it in the first place, so sending it back seems like too much of a hassle.) But just seeing it now, sitting heavy on your desk, with your small hand resting beside it, with its intricate and strangely realistic textures, it looks too intimidating.

You've read these werewolf stories where some fair maiden stumbles through the forest and ends up getting relentlessly knotted by the monster (or the more modern versions of some alpha male knotting his omega mate to help them through their heat, which always fascinated you a little more because it seemed not as fantastical). The idea to have something big inside you, filling you, stretching you out, and then something even bigger holding you in place, making it impossible to move, gives you chills, in the good way.

You may have been a little drunk and very horny when you ordered this fantasy dildo, but seeing it now, in the “flesh”, makes you very anxious. This was a stupid purchase. It won't be the same anyway. It's just the disembodied dick of a creature that doesn't exist in the first place. You'll be stuffed, sure, but you'll miss the warmth and the strength of whoever this would be attached to.

You sigh. Well, nothing you can do about it. You neither have a boyfriend to test this out with nor do you possess any magical abilities to make that fantasy come true, and as of right now, you don't see yourself using the damn thing anyway. It's too large (your other dildos look downright puny in comparison), and you are too small.

Despite it all, it is mesmerizing you. You chose a deep midnight blue as the color, that blends from a lighter blue at the tip into an almost black at the base, which makes it look slightly slimmer than it is. Slowly you move your hand up and close it around the curved shaft, well, you try, your fingers are too short to reach all the way around. You still slide your palm along the ridges and bumps, feeling the firm smooth silicone. It gives way in some places, you can bend it just a little bit, but when your hand reaches the knot, those bulbs feel almost a little too rigid.

You squeeze them, watching your knuckles blanching, knowing you will never have the same grip with your pussy. Warmth rushes into your cheeks at the thought. Biting your lip, you keep stroking the strange toy, getting a feel for it, trying to imagine how it would fit inside you. With how hefty the base is, you would have to put it on the ground and lower yourself onto it, which sounds like a workout you're not so sure you'd like.

But maybe the base comes off and you can use it like a regular dildo, snuggled into bed, hidden under your blanket? You lift the thing up and try to twist the base, but nothing happens. Hmm. At least it's sturdy. You find a little hole at the bottom, and you remember you ordered it with a... what did they call it, cumtube? Sounds weird, but it's just a long tube you can fill with cum-like lube that shoots out at some point? You're not too clear on the workings of that. But the idea to be filled by something warm and sticky makes your stomach tense up in anticipation.

Shifting on your chair, you inhale sharply and pull your hand away from the dark blue item. Well, this is not going to happen, not now. Maybe never. The idea is nice, but you don't see it being too pleasurable in reality. So you pack it up into its unassuming black satin bag along with the bottle of lube and the long tube it came with, and store it in the lowest drawer of your desk. Out of sight, out of mind.

Or so you hope.

When you go to bed that night, you see the large dildo in your mind's eye, and you recall these smutty stories, you imagine the grunts of the werewolf as he fucks the poor woman beneath him, rutting into her like the feral creature he is. And how she screams when he bottoms out, pressing all those inches into her, forcing his knot to stretch her entrance, how her pussy lips grip around it and pull it further inside. You have your hand between your legs as you try to imagine what it must feel like to be this full, to be bred and filled, with nowhere to go, stuck on those bulging bulbs.

A moan escapes you as your body shudders. You could try it. You have the hardware. It's right there. You just have to get up and get it... But you're too cozy in bed, under your warm blanket, with your fingers rubbing hard circles around your clit. You end up coming to the idea of it, and that's enough for you. Content with your heart racing, you exhale loudly, wiping your wet fingers on your thigh before you snuggle into the bedding and close your eyes, falling into a dreamless sleep.

Maybe not as dreamless as you've hoped. You wake up the next morning with a dry throat and sticky thighs, your mind swimming with images of cocks plunging into squelching holes, of being held down and ravaged, and you shudder at the memory. Blinking your eyes into focus, you sit up – and freeze.

There, on top of your desk, sits the large dark blue dildo, shining in the sunlight filtering through your window. No way. You've put it into the drawer, into its bag, far away, and even though you thought about using it last night, you didn't. And even if, you wouldn't put it back on the desk like that, right? But it's there, almost mocking you. Slowly you stand up and walk towards your desk, reaching out a hand to touch the smooth surface.

It's sticky, almost warm to the touch. What the hell? But you haven't used it, you're sure, you'd certainly remember it, wouldn't you? Shaking your head, you dismiss it for the moment and start your morning routine as if nothing happened.

Before you leave for the day, you grab the dildo and the toy cleaner you keep in your bedside table and give it a good scrub. Then you hide it away again, shutting the drawer with a firm thud. You are tempted to put a lock on it, but that's just silly.

Later that evening, you sit in bed and scroll through the stories on your phone, mindlessly skimming through your preferred genres. Somehow you end up on another knotting story. What are the odds. This one is set in the omegaverse, depicting an alpha bodyguard taking care of the omega girl in his care... by knotting her senseless. Just your kind of story. You end up with your fingers in your cunt, rubbing and poking desperately as you read.

You're close, your thighs twitching with every brush against your sensitive clit, stomach tense, feet curling into the sheets as you pump your hips. Your breaths are frantic, heart thundering inside your chest. Soundless, strangled gasps escape you (you're always mindful of your noises, these walls are thin and you don't want to alarm or entertain your neighbors) and you squirm and writhe, your phone falling out of your hand when you have to clutch at the edge of the bed.

“Fuck,” you croak out quietly while you roll onto your side and press your thighs together, trapping your hand, fingers stilling inside your clenching pussy as your body convulses under the mind-numbing throes of your orgasm.

You lie there for a moment, taking deep gulps of air into your burning lungs, slowly calming down again. Through the dark room you look towards your desk. And you can see it, your new toy, hidden away, waiting, and before you know it, you stumble off the bed and rip the drawer open and the large dildo out of its bag. You don't even care about the lube at this point.

With your back pressed into the bed, you rub the tapered tip between your wet folds, gathering your slick. You need both hands to guide the big thing back and forth, it's quite heavy. With your heart racing and your stomach fluttering, you angle your hips, feet pressed into the bed, and then you push. The head parts your lips and sinks into your entrance, and it's already a stretch that makes you inhale sharply.

But you keep going, your arms shaking under the exertion of forcing the toy deeper. You feel its protruding ridges and nubs rubbing against your soft walls as you start moving it in and out slowly. There's still so much of it in your hands, but the curve of the thing already presses between your tight muscles. You turn it slightly, figuring out which way feels best, and in doing so drill it even further.

You stop before your pussy lips brush against the bulbous knot, and you hold it tightly when you let the thing just rest inside you for a moment, feeling its girth and length and weight, its textures and shape. Clenching around the toy, you try to relax on the bed, grinding your hips slowly against your hands. It feels amazing, those ridges and nubs seem to hit all the right spots. Little moans slip from your parted lips, mouth hanging open as you squeeze your eyes shut.

The base is heavy between your fingers, and you feel them cramping slightly as you continue to move the large dildo in and out, considering using it like it's intended to be used: standing upright on the ground as you impale yourself on it. But it's a daunting thought, and your legs are already shaking badly. You doubt you have enough strength left to do squats on it now.

So you keep pumping half of it into your tight cunt, both hands closed around the hefty base, hips meeting your thrusts, the wet squelching sounds echoing through your room, adding to the growing arousal inside you. Your wrists hurt under the strain, but you're desperate now, hectic whines escaping you as you double your efforts, pushing and pulling, ramming that damn thing into you as fast as you can.

Arching your back and lifting your hips off the bed, you lean into the impending release, so close, a few more nudges, come on – when a sudden cold breeze over your sweaty face alerts you to something you cannot stop. It's as if an unseen force pushes the dildo with you, stronger than your own hands, an assist you didn't ask for.

But you're too far gone, gasping with your mouth wide open, head pressed into your pillow, thighs twitching, the tension ready to explode, and then it does, and at the same time as your orgasm crashes over you, a strange jerk goes through your body, and your usually voiceless cry becomes a real one, an almost scream as you feel your clenching cunt being stretched. Your hands fall away from the toy in an attempt to let it pop out and relish in the empty feeling as your contractions shake your body, but there's no empty feeling, because you're not empty.

You're stuffed. Somehow the knot has made it into your tight channel and your pussy lips grip the shaft beneath it, and as much as you push and clench, it doesn't budge. Cold panic rips you from your post-orgasmic bliss. Your hands claw at the base sticking out of you as you gyrate your hips, feeling every ridge and nub and bump pressing hard into your fluttering walls, but the toy is lodged within you. How did that happen?

Breathing harder, both from the exertion and the anxiety of having a sex toy stuck in your cunt, you wail quietly, rolling onto your side, lifting your leg, pulling on the damn thing. No chance. It's in there now. Knot and all, and the more you squirm, the more you feel the tapered tip pressing into depths nothing has ever pressed into before. It's a strange pain, sharp and piercing, a jolt of electricity with every movement of your body.

You lie on your back now, legs still angled, thighs twitching, trying to calm yourself down. You need to relax your muscles to get it out, you know that, but it's hard, as hard as the toy inside you. And somehow you feel it... expanding? No, that must be your imagination. It's not one of those inflatable things, you made sure of that. But the stretch is there, and it hurts.

Your hands are back between your legs, gripping the hefty base, but in your attempt to rip it out somehow, you suddenly feel it loosening and with another surprised/pained gasp, you realize you're holding the base of the toy – but without the toy.

“No!” you wail louder, staring at the dark piece of silicone between your fingers. It came right off, not as sturdy as initially suspected after all. You throw it aside and finger at the now-base of the fake shaft. It's barely sticking out now, your cunt eager to swallow it whole it seems. Whining in panic, you try to hook a finger between your tightly stretched skin and the dildo, but there's no way you can grip it like this.

Tears prick at the corners of your eyes as your anxiety grows. Chill. Calm down, it'll pop out on its own, they always do, don't worry, you try to soothe yourself. Not the first time you accidentally pushed a toy in too deep, but those were smooth ones, half as long and half as thick, with no ridges or knots, of course they'd slip out again. But this thing? It's a fucking knot, designed, by nature, to keep itself lodged inside any unsuspecting hole.

You think back to those stories you read about the topic. Those were fictional though, and every author handled it slightly differently. In some of them, the knot would just deflate when the man (or werewolf) was done dumping his potent load into his victim or mate, in others it stayed bulbous and inflated for a long time, locking the two people together, which, in a way, is a romantic thing and something you'd like to experience once in your life as well, but there's nobody attached to the dildo in your cunt, no one to hold you, to calm you, to rub your back and ease you through the pain of stretching and being filled.

The thought makes you sad, and in your frustration you buck your hips, only to gasp when the motion causes the toy to rub against these very sensitive spots that make your toes curl. You move your pelvis again, ripping a quiet moan from your throat, and then you fall into a slow rhythm of undulating into the bed, one hand back on your mound, feeling the tight fit of the toy before you start rubbing your swollen clit gently.

Before you know it, you work yourself to yet another orgasm, and the dildo seems to work with you. You even nudge its base a little, pushing it deeper, right against that sweet spot in the far back, and you groan at the sensation of pleasure/pain as you thrash your head into the pillow. Rolling onto your side, you keep grinding against the heavy thing inside you, panting under the exertion, your body curled up tightly, just like the coil in your tense stomach.

You're teetering on the edge, head empty except for that delicious cotton that makes you forget everything. It feels so good. The stretch, the pressure, the snug fit, those ridges and nubs and those seemingly pulsing bulbs pressing right against your g-spot. Mewls and wails fall from your trembling lips, and in your haze, you end up on your stomach where you lift your hips up and start humping your mattress feverishly.

The additional stimulation to your clit makes you cry out loudly, and you can only muffle your noises by pressing your face into the pillow. Your hard nipples rub against the fabric of your shirt with every gyrating motion with how you scrape your chest over the bed, and it doesn't take long before you stumble right over the edge, your muscles clenching hard around the toy, squeezing with all they have, as a million bright lights explode around you.

You're too far gone to think at that point, but if you would have been able to, you'd wonder why the toy doesn't come shooting out of your convulsing channel like most other toys would. It's not just the knot holding it in place, there's a strange force keeping your hips up and the dildo inside you. But you notice none of it, not the stiff position of your body as you tremble and quake, hands clawing at the sheets, knuckles white, fingers hurting, you just keep riding the waves of pleasure crashing over you.

You do, however, feel a familiar warmth gathering deep inside you, and you assume it's your own release waiting to gush past the item if it weren't for the knot plugging you up like a cork. Though it feels a little different, not something your body produced due to high stimulation, but something being added...

You groan deeply when your body makes a forward jerk as you feel the toy moving within you. Which shouldn't be possible. It's almost as if it's pulsing, throbbing, twitching, and with those motions something hot pushes into you, filling you up, seeping into every nook and cranny left by the large toy invading your already tight space. You shudder deeply, wondering in your fucked-out state what's going on, before you feel a strange stretch, a pressure building up inside you, and then, like an airlock being lifted, a strange squelching sound appears and you feel something hot and sticky trickling down your leg.

Remaining in your bent-over position, you move a hand between your legs and feel for whatever is leaking out of you. It's thick, thicker than your own juices, and much stickier. You bring it to your eyes, and whatever liquid it is, it pulls into thin strands as you part your fingers. Feels like cum. You blink at the sight and feel of it, and in your stupor, you roll onto your side, feeling more of it gathering between your legs.

When you're on your back again, you lift your hips, your sticky hand rubbing over your bare stomach, trying to ignore how tense and full it feels, down to your mound, teasing at the stretched opening. You feel the silicone against your fingertips, and it's no longer an intruder you want to get out immediately, it's become a strangely comforting feeling, despite the out of nowhere appearing cum-like substance. Maybe you filled it up before you used it? You can't remember, honestly. Does it matter? Not really.

You enjoy the feeling of fullness, the stretch and pressure, how with every slight movement the toy's ridges dig into your soft walls. The curve of it fits perfectly inside you, and the bulbous knot makes it sit so snug, as if it was made specifically for your cunt. You almost laugh at your initial apprehension and how you thought that huge thing would never fit into your tiny body, but look at you now, stuffed and happy.

With one hand on your mound, now eager to keep the toy in, as you rub your swollen labia gently, you roll onto your side and snuggle into your bed, your other hand pulling the sheets over your sweat-slick, sticky body. You don't care about washing up, you just want to sleep, softly riding out the blissful tremors of what this amazing toy has made you feel.

Closing your eyes, you imagine lying next to your alpha mate, or even a fluffy werewolf, as he holds you tightly pressed to his warm body, cock stuck inside your clenching cunt, knotting you to your (and his) heart's content.

But despite feeling exhausted, you can't stop grinding your hips against your hand, breathing harder when the warmth and tension builds up all over again as the dildo presses into all the right places. Soft moans slip from your dry lips, a shudder crashing through you at the feel of the tight knot stretching your sensitive skin. That last orgasm before you actually fall asleep is a mild one, a soothing thing washing over you, a warm embrace from something that isn't there.

You wake up with a sigh, feeling refreshed and rejuvenated, ready to start the new day. There is a strange soreness between your legs, as well as a very sticky sensation on your skin, but you don't care much for it – before you sit up and yelp when a sudden pain crashes through you. You stand up so fast your head is spinning, and as you press a hand to your mound, you can feel that the dildo is still lodged snugly inside you.

Yet you don't even have time to panic as the room grows dark all of a sudden. Then it all happens very fast. Somehow you are being turned and bent over the foot of the bed, chest pressed into the mattress by a force you can't explain. Your hands grip for the sheets as you struggle against whatever is holding you down. Are you still dreaming? You can't be sure. It feels too real.

And the pain when something pulls at the dildo in your cunt, when the knot stretches your pussy lips as it forces its way past them, is very, very real and makes you wail into the bedding. After the first stretch, the rest of the toy slips out easily, and with it comes a flood of something warm and sticky, spraying against your inner thighs, dripping down your legs, pooling around your bare feet on the floor. You gasp at the sudden emptiness.

All that wasted seed, you think as if someone has planted the thought into your head. Better put in a new load. Before you can properly wonder about where those words came from, you feel something nudging against your stretched entrance. You stand on shaking legs, ass in the air, torso pushed down into the bed, and you struggle, or try to, but you can't move. It's as if you're frozen in time and place, held down by an invisible force.

It's too dark to see anything, not that you could anyway with how your face is buried in the sheets. All you can do is take it, and even that you're not sure you can. It feels like something is standing behind you, something cold that lets goosebumps ripple over your exposed skin, and at the same time there's something very hot sinking into your fluttering cunt. You know it's the silicone toy warmed by your own body, but it feels different somehow. It feels... real.

You grunt with every sharp stab it gives you, parting your folds, plunging deep, but not as deep, teasing you with those ridges and nubs that scrape over your gummy walls, and the swell of that knot nudges against your entrance, never breaching it. Not yet anyway. The pace is brutal, a feral rutting, pistoning in and out fast and hard, and you can barely contain your noises anymore. They're muffled but still loud in your ears. Maybe because they're the only thing you hear, aside from the wet squelching of your cunt.

Whatever is pushing that dildo into you, whatever took over for you, doesn't make a sound, but you can feel it, you know it's there, holding you down and restrained. Whatever it is.

As sure as you are about the invisible force fucking you on your own bed, you are about the impending orgasm creeping closer with every hard thrust. The constant in and out of the rigid toy makes your head spin, your stomach tense, your thighs tremble. You're moaning and mewling, desperate for release as the warmth gathers in your core, ready to burst free. You even manage to press your hips back and meet the motions of the toy pounding into you.

And then you come, wailing loudly, barely restrained, lights exploding behind your eyelids as your body shudders and convulses, and you feel something wet splattering on the wooden floor, adding to the mess pooling around your feet. You've never squirted before, but you just know that's what happened, if you could analyze the moment, which you can't because your head is deliciously empty as you let bliss take over your thinking apparatus.

You barely register how the toy keeps plunging into your wet cunt, those squelching noises obscene if you would care about them, and as you still float on that amazing high, you feel its thrusts getting slower, slightly deeper, more deliberate, those bulging bulbs nudging firmer against your pussy lips, and suddenly the pressure grows stronger, making you gasp and your legs shake badly, and you fight it, stiffen, muscles tensing up, making it all the worse, but whatever controls the large dildo doesn't care as it pushes it further into your protesting cunt.

You let out a deep groan when it finally breaches the tight squeeze, stretching your sensitive skin, slipping into you, and that motion, the getting swallowed by your own body, turns your wails of distress into cries of pure pleasure as you come again around the invading object, your walls fluttering around the knot. You almost lose your footing, but the force that's penetrating you is still holding you up, no matter how badly your body spasms against the bed.

The dildo is back inside of you, all of it, from the tapered tip that teases at your cervix to the swollen protrusions to the bit of shaft after that. Your cunt clenches around all of it, holding it in place, hugging it to its contracting walls, letting it rub against all those special spots. And you keep shaking, so sensitive by now the slightest motion causes you to gasp and shudder. You'd be content like this, having it inside you, just resting, as heavy and large as it is, but whatever decided to take over, doesn't see it that way.

While you couldn't possibly push the thing deeper the last time it was wedged into you, you now feel it moving, nudging further, the hard tip pressing into your depths, stretching you in a way you've never been stretched before. It hurts, but it also feels good. And it's good that you think so, as you don't have a choice in the matter anyway.

The toy is pushed and pulled in slow fluid motions, and you feel the knot pressing hard against your entrance, stretching but never leaving your cunt. That doesn't stop the force behind you, though. The shallow thrusts continue until they turn into a desperate rutting, quick short stabs that make you howl as they bully both your deepest spot and the tight muscles of your hole. It's painful in the best way possible, and you feel your legs trembling, your stomach tensing, that warmth filling you up before it all explodes, catapulting you over the edge all over again.

You scream as you come, luckily muffled by how your face is still pressed into the bedding, but the sensation isn't any less extreme. Your orgasm crashes over you like the biggest tidal wave you've ever experienced, not that you have seen any of those before, but it sure feels like it hits you straight in the chest and drags you along, throwing you around, unrelenting, merciless, as you're being pushed and pulled and gasping for air.

Your walls clench hard around the still pistoning intruder, the curve, the ridges, the nubs, that fucking knot, all playing vital roles in keeping you afloat (or drowning), prolonging the gloriously mind-blowing experience. You feel dizzy, your heart thundering in your chest, lungs burning, body arching and spasming, as you are being hurdled from one orgasm to the next, or so it feels, and it never ends, not even when the toy suddenly stills, pushed as deep as possible, and then it throbs.

Even though you're barely able to feel anything anymore, you can feel its vibrations, the thrum from deep within it, and it shouldn't do that, it's not a vibrating toy, you tell yourself, it's also not an inflating one, but it still seems to swell, or the knot is, and it's pulsing against your tense muscles, stretching them, working inside you, and then... it unloads.

The warmth it fills you with is scorching, so filling you feel it bulging your stomach, which shouldn't be possible, and you may even taste it on your tongue as you gulp for air. It's all around you, but mostly inside you, and there it stays because the knot keeps it from spilling out. You are plugged shut, and it keeps pumping, giving you more, and it feels both oddly comforting and terrifyingly too much. You feel like bursting, so full, way too full, but all you can do is groan quietly.

With your mind still reeling, you are suddenly moved, lifted up by invisible hands (or paws?), cradled against something strangely warm as you're being put onto your side on the bed, your stomach fluttering and bulging, tensing badly under the onslaught of whatever liquid is pumped into your depths. The knotting dildo remains deep inside you, stuck and locked in, and you become drowsy, exhausted from whatever just happened. The darkness is still all around you, but you feel warm and content and taken good care of.

A smile grazes your dry lips as you imagine lying in the embrace of a mate, a lover, holding you after the strenuous ordeal of being knotted and bred, as their cock keeps pumping cum into you, as you remain tied together. And it feels so real...

Your eyes flutter close, and you inhale deeply, shifting slightly with your precious cargo inside you. As you drift into unconsciousness, the room grows brighter again, letting in the warm sunlight of a day already reaching its halfway point. Of course, you notice none of that, gone as you are.

When you stir awake, the darkness is back, this one real, lying like a heavy blanket all around you, while you lie on your side, shivering because you seemed to have kicked off your own blanket. Once you come to fully, you feel a little strange. Your mind is fuzzy, laden with images that couldn't have happened. Did you dream all that? Surely. It would be too weird if not.

But then why do you feel full when at the same time you are blatantly empty? Rolling onto your back, you grind your hips, assessing if you were indeed knotted and bred, but there's nothing. Your stomach rumbles, and when you touch it, it's normal, not bulged and tense but soft, and that's probably where the emptiness comes from. You're hungry, but that hunger also feels like an air pocket inside you, too big to ignore, giving you the feeling of being full? It's a strange sensation, to say the least.

And then there's another kind of emptiness. The one sitting invisibly in your aching little cunt disguised as nothingness. The toy is gone. You recall vividly how deep it's been in you, how stuck and immobile and heavy it sat between your clenching walls, but now they are fluttering around nothing. Where did it go?

You sit up, rubbing your naked arms, realizing you are indeed completely naked. Strange, didn't you go to bed with your sleep shirt? And why is it dark? It's been morning before, what happened to the rest of the day? You lean over to the lamp on your bedside table and the dark room is suddenly bathed in a warm yellow light, causing your eyes to wander straight towards your desk.

And there it is, sitting on its hefty base, the dark blue knotting dildo, in all its glory, with its curve, those ridges and nubs, and the formidable two bulbs making up the knot of the thing. You blink at the sight, confusion washing over you like a cold shiver. Slowly you stand up, groaning as you do, feeling your limbs shaking. Why are you so weak? Rubbing your stomach, you take a few steps before you almost slip on the floor.

Something wet coats the soles of your feet, and when you look down there's a big puddle of something shiny all over the wooden boards. Some of it is clear, but there's also a white shimmer to it, and you feel your heart accelerating as you remember how that came to be (even if the memory is faint, but seeing the evidence makes it all the more real and that frighteningly so). The feeling of being filled to the brim and leaking with the rest of it, the sensation of coming so hard you squirted all over the floor, while a strange force pounded your new toy into your willing body. Has it really happened? Apparently. But how is that possible?

Your heart beats faster as you keep walking until you reach the large dildo, standing proud and tall and girthy. You reach out with a shaking hand, carefully sliding your fingers over the textured shaft, tracing the thick veins on it. It feels warm and sticky, and it makes your blood run cold. It feels real, and it shouldn't. You know that. You're not crazy.

But there are too many things you just can't explain. How did it get back on the desk, back on the base you seemingly broke off last time? How was it possible that the toy fucked you on its own, in that bent-over position, and why weren't you able to move as it happened?

You feel chills all over your naked body. In that moment your rational mind just gives up. Normally you don't believe in ghosts or anything supernatural, but how else could you explain any of this? Is the toy haunted? Possessed?

It's a silicone thing, man-made, fabricated to cater to certain people's needs, a fantasy product, but it feels real, it pumped seemingly real cum into you (or so you think, it could still have been loaded with that artificial stuff without your knowledge and by squeezing it too hard you made it come out?), it fucked you as if attached to the real deal (whatever the real deal was).

Staring at the item, you lick your lips, eyes scanning every inch of its ridged surface. As creepy as this whole situation is, you still can't deny how good it felt also. How full and happy you were, how many times you came as it rammed into you, how those little nubs felt against your tense walls. They clench just remembering it. And somehow, from the darkest corner of your mind, comes the need to put it back in, feel it again, let the knot lock you up...

A shaky sigh escapes you, and you force yourself to look away from its tantalizing appeal. No. You can't. It'll all happen again, a mind-blowing fuckfest, and you'll waste another day in bed or wherever this thing wants to fuck you, or you it, it's still unclear how that happened, and maybe it was just your extremely horny mind who made up the idea of it being controlled by somebody else, maybe it has been you all along, driven crazy by sheer lust as you rammed that knot into your own cunt.

Shaking your head to clear it, you step away and into the bathroom. You spend a long time in there, inspecting and washing and handling your sore body, and when you emerge again, wrapped in a towel with your wet hair falling over your shoulders, the toy is still sitting on your desk. You watch it, but don't approach it. Instead you leave the room and venture into the kitchen to satiate the human need of eating, and after you sat at the counter and shoveled a bowl of cereal into your achingly empty stomach, you return to your bedroom.

The sight of that thing haunts you. You feel antsy just looking at it. In the end, you pick it up and put it down on the wooden desk chair, something you feel like doing, as if something put that thought into your head, a not too unfamiliar sensation. Then you pull the chair back, drop your towel and move to sit down on it. Again, you're barely thinking about it, it's like a need, an urge, a thing that feels right.

So you squat down on the toy, feeling the tapered tip pressing between your folds, and as soon as it breaches your entrance, pushing against your sore muscles, you gasp, hands curled around the edge of the desk to ground yourself as you let gravity do the rest. Or most of it. You feel the curve sinking into your tight depths, carving a way into your gummy walls, but when the knot presses against your pussy lips, you pause, breathing harder.

It feels too big, but you know it can fit inside you, it's happened before. Inhaling deeply, you try to relax, gyrating your hips to ease it into you, but your hole's too tight, unwilling to part further. You're in that weird half-squat, hovering over the chair, arms propped on the desk in front of you, and instead of giving up, you start moving up and down, fucking yourself slowly on the curved shaft, feeling those ridges and nubs and the tip poking at those delicious spots.

You're panting from the exertion, thighs burning under the strain, but you keep going even when sweat drops down your brows. You feel as if your muscles are opening up, and before your legs give in, you slam your hips down. A shrill shriek escapes you as you feel the knot stretching you open, your sensitive skin and muscles giving way, allowing it inside before they close back around it, swallowing it and the whole thing inside of you. You moan when you feel it filling you out.

Sinking a few inches further, you feel your rear pressing against the base of the toy before you sit down fully, ass cheeks on the chair, the entirety of the dildo wedged between your tight walls. A trembling exhale escapes you as you try to relax on it, your arms shaking before you bring your hands to your lap, your chest rising and falling faster, your stomach fluttering. For a few minutes you just sit there, trying to calm your frantic breaths and your rapid heartbeat, adjusting to the filling sensation.

And then, as if you haven't just impaled yourself on a knotting dildo, you reach a hand out, turn the lamp on your desk on and pull the laptop closer that you keep at the edge of it. You've missed an entire day it seems, so you're hellbent on making up for it. As your fingers fly over the keyboard, you occasionally grind your hips into the chair, relishing in the sudden jolts of pleasure/pain as the toy nudges your insides.

You sit there and work until you've edged yourself so badly, you can barely think anymore. Leaning back in your chair with your hands flat on your desk, you inhale sharply, tilting your head back as you undulate against the toy wedged between your thighs. You're so sensitive, every single motion causes you to shiver deeply. Even the hefty base of the toy rubs delightfully against your mound, adding pressure where you didn't know you needed it. A moan escapes you, and you move your hands to your rear and pull your cheeks apart until you can grind against it better.

It feels so good. To be stuffed, to be teased like this, to feel all those little details on that firm silicone shaft. You want to congratulate whoever came up with this design. It's perfect.

In an attempt to feel more of it, you lift yourself up slightly, really wanting to ride that thing now, but of course the knot prevents you from doing so, plugging you up tightly. You can still nudge the curved dildo a little deeper, so you end up humping your chair with small shallow snaps of your hips, your thighs trembling after only a few minutes, your panting breaths loud in the quiet room.

With a little whine you stand up properly, but instead of forcing the toy out from between your clenching walls, you lift up the entire thing, base and all, as it's firmly stuck inside of you. Its weight is heavy between your legs, but you still manage to stumble towards the bed with it where you throw yourself onto your back, spread your legs, lift your hips and start pushing your hands against the base, working yourself up even more.

Once your wrists cramp up under the strain, you focus on stimulating your clit, and the first touch has you already writhing on the bed. Gasping quietly, you buck your hips against your own fingers as you keep rubbing that sensitive bundle of nerves until your thighs spasm wildly. You feel the tension building, the warmth gathering inside you, and then you come with a soundless half-scream, mouth wide open, legs clamping shut around your hands as you ride out the waves of pleasure, the toy practically vibrating inside you with how your walls are fluttering around it.

Your limbs go limp then, hands falling away, legs falling open, as you try to catch your breath. Eyes closed, a stupid smile on your lips, you lie there like a stranded beetle, stomach convulsing, chest heaving. You don't notice how the darkness creeps back in, dimming out the warm light of the desk and bedside table lamp. You don't feel the cold wafting in the air around you, but you do feel the dildo moving, tiny movements, little nudges against your tight muscles until it pops out with an obscenely wet squelching sound, coaxing a deep sigh out of you.

You feel utterly relieved and satisfied and content, ready to fall asleep like that, with your legs wide open, presented on the bed like a strange little offering, and whatever lurks in the shadows around you, seems to take the bait.

It feels like your bed is moving, the mattress denting on either side of your hips, and then you're being lifted a little, and it's cold and warm at the same time as your legs are pushed up and against your chest, and as if you want this to happen, your hands move to grab your thighs, holding your legs like this. In this position you are wide open, a cool breeze on your swollen clit, your cunt clenching around nothing – but not for long.

The tapered tip pushes between your folds, eagerly sinking into your slightly stretched hole, scraping along your soft walls. The curved shaft follows, digging into you, its nubs and ridges rubbing against those sensitive spots that make you mewl softly. You are in a trance, held by lust even as exhaustion wants to pull you under. You don't question anything at this point, you just savor the sensations.

And you feel everything. The shaft moves then, in and out, shallow little stabs, carving its way deeper until you feel the bulbous knot pressing against your entrance. But it doesn't go in yet, it keeps slamming against your puffy lips, the wet squelching sounds a telltale sign of how aroused you still are. There's a strange weight to the thrusts, as if there would be more than just the toy being pushed into you, it feels as if it was attached to something much bigger, a presence you can't see (not even if you would open your eyes), but can sense in a way that feeds your longing.

The pounding continues, and that warmth builds up again, all around the thick shaft that moves between your tight walls with ease and power, in and out, fast and hard, and in an angle that makes you wail, bullying all the right spots until you can't hold it in you anymore. You come with a croaked cry as your body tenses up before it explodes into nothing but bliss, tiny lights dancing behind your eyelids, that soft warmth turning into a burning that devours all of you at once.

Through your orgasm the fake cock (or so you think) keeps pumping into you, those wet squelches are obscenely loud, and you moan and whine, hips bucking to meet the thrusts as your fingers dig into your own thighs, holding your legs squished against your breasts, your feet jumping above your head with every plunge.

And then it happens, your fluttering cunt gives way to the knot, but instead of plugging you up, it pops out, then plunges into you once more, and out again and in again, and you wail under the stretch and strange sensation of being stretched repeatedly. There's pain, but there's also blinding pleasure whenever it forces itself into you, and you keep coming from that motion alone, gasping and writhing, barely able to breathe or think or do anything but let it happen.

Now the whole length of the thing pushes into you, as deep as it'll go, bullying your cervix with its tapered tip, knot fully swallowed by your walls, then it's pulled back almost entirely before doing it all over again, driving you to the edge and over it and back and over in rapid succession. It's all a blur, but it feels so good, you could die on the spot just feeling it breaching your tight space over and over again.

Luckily, you don't die, you are just pushed from orgasm to orgasm, until every single nerve ending is buzzing and tingling, and you come to the point where you don't want to come any more. Not that the thing fucking you seems to mind that very much. It keeps going, in and out, your cunt giving off a lewd wet popping sound every time the knot is forced out and another wet slurping sound every time it's pushed in and swallowed by your walls. Along with your breathless whines and the squeaking of the bed, it's a cacophony of sounds driving you to the edge of sanity, and pleasure, and pain, and all of the above.

You feel yourself fading, teetering on the brink of unconsciousness, but just as you think you'll drift off now, the thing in your cunt plunges particularly deep, a final thrust full of power and strength, a heavy weight pressing you down as it prods painfully against your already battered cervix. You cry out, your body too confused, so it makes you convulse all over again as another orgasm crashes through you. The curved shaft stills inside you, ridges and nubs and its knot settling against your fluttering walls, and you feel as if it's throbbing and twitching, and the bulbs seem to grow, stretching you further, really plugging you up now.

A groan slips from your dry lips as it starts pumping something warm and filling into your cramped depths. Spurt after spurt, more and more, until you can feel your stomach bulging, tensing under the growing load, and your head is spinning as your body comes down from that strenuous but still utterly pleasurable experience. You feel a little drunk almost, dizzy and disorientated, wondering why you are still holding your legs up. But you stay like this, submitting to whatever leans over you, holding you down with their cock.

The last bit of your rational mind tells you you're just dreaming. Of course you are. And what a nice dream it is, hm? But then your eyes flutter open, and you blink at the darkness around you. It feels impenetrable, too dark. Even at night, you can usually make out the shape of your furniture, the outline of your windows, the streetlamps trying to push their light past your curtains. But you can see absolutely nothing. Did you even open your eyes?

You blink. Yeah, you did. There's something eerie in the way you're staring into the black void in front of you, it gives you chills, makes your body shudder, and as you jerk a little, you feel the weight and the pressure inside of you. The toy. It's still in there, buried deep, and it keeps throbbing, spewing liquid warmth into you. It feels so real. Your heart beats faster, your breaths quicken.

Then a strange hum fills the air, you freeze immediately, your eyes widening. It's a soothing sound as much as it is terrifying. It makes you stiffen, frozen in place, a deep chill running down your spine. And then there's this huff, like an exhale, and you can feel warm air wafting towards you, hitting your sweat-slick face. A tiny little croak escapes you as fear grips your limbs after all.

There is something, holding you down, impaling you on its cock, leaning over you, breathing right against your quivering lips. You can't see it, no matter how hard you try, but it's there. Huffing and puffing in a low, deep rumble, an unseen weight resting between your legs. Hot tears fall from under your lashes, running down your cheeks, but they never reach the pillow beneath your head.

It's a warm sensation, wet, almost a little slimy, and it feels like a tongue lapping at your skin, and the thought alone pushes you right to the edge of hysteria. Helpless whimpers escape you, but that disembodied, unseen tongue keeps licking up the tears continuously spilling from your eyes. Warm breaths dry your wet cheeks, those little huffs quieter now, calm and collected, and they slowly ease your own breathing as you stare ahead at nothing but blackness.

A little shriek is coaxed out of your throat when you feel the same tongue on your neck now, something soft nudging your calves until you let go of your legs and let them fall open against whatever has settled between them. They don't reach the soft bedding beneath but are held up now by something else, and you're too far gone to question it anymore. With your legs down, your torso is exposed to the shadows, your breasts trembling as your chest rises and falls quicker.

Those warm huffs of air hit your sensitive nipples before something warm circles them, and you can feel them being pulled and teased, making you shiver deeply, the sensation sending jolts of pleasure straight to your clit and fluttering cunt. The thick shaft inside you throbs as well, still leaking the occasional spurt of warm fluid. The knot is pulsing, tight and harder than before, or so it feels, those bulging veins on it rubbing deliciously against your stretched flesh.

You feel yourself drifting again under all these ministrations, lulled into your own darkness.

In your dreams, or whatever reality you find yourself in, you see a large shadow leaning over you. And you are calm about it, not afraid, but content. The appearance of the figure above you is hazy, like black smoke, fraying at its edges, no clear contour to make out. But what you can see (or think to see) are strong arms, a broad torso, muscles wherever you look. A display of strength and power and dominance, and in its shadow, you feel safe, protected.

You assume it's a large man, but you can't see his face. It's still too dark. But you can feel his breath on your skin, his lips trailing around your breasts, upwards to your collarbones, before you feel that warm tongue against your neck again. You tilt your head, giving him better access, and he hums deeply, showering you with little kisses and broad strokes of his tongue. Your pulse is fluttering against his mouth, and he senses your arousal, smells it. He seems to sniff you, hovering over you, warm and heavy.

“You are mine now,” you hear a low thrum in the air, assuming it's his voice. “My mate.”

You don't know what that means, but you're ready. You want it. And as if he can feel your approval, he leans in, his lips closing around your pulse, sucking softly, his teeth nibbling carefully, before you feel a different sensation. A pinch, a prick, a sudden cold stab when something sharp sinks into your skin.

You moan quietly as a strange warmth rushes through you (and out of you), the smell of metal wafting towards your nostrils, but you keep still, and without knowing what's happening, you let him bite you, mark you, and he grunts against you, holding your neck between his teeth as a shudder crashes through his big body that travels all the way to his cock buried deep inside of you. You feel it throbbing, the knot pulsing, and as your walls clench in response, you feel more warmth seeping into you as he fills you up again.

His hips grind against yours, soft little nudges, and you feel so good. An unusually gentle orgasm washes over you then, like a calming caress through your body that soothes you, eases your sore muscles, the slight pain in your neck, any other ailments you might have had. None of it matters anymore. You've found your mate. You're not alone anymore. You feel like coming home. Safe...

“What's your name?” you breathe out into the black void ready to consume you, not sure why you feel the need to ask this.

A huff of warm air moves over your face before a low hum vibrates in your ear. “Fenrir,” he growls quietly, and it's all you need to know as you inhale deeply, a soft smile grazing your lips.

Then, the darkness closes around you as if someone puts their hand over your eyes, whisking you away to sleep, or back to reality...

The next time you wake up, you are cuddled into your sheets, and the sunlight filters through your curtains. A new day, and you've never felt this refreshed before. Sitting up, you stretch with a soft squeak, rolling your neck, inhaling deeply. Your eyes move through the room, and the sight of the large dildo on your desk doesn't even confuse you anymore. It feels right to see it there. You stand up and walk past it on your way to the bathroom, your fingers sliding gently along its curved shaft.

In the midst of your morning routine, you hear the chime of your doorbell. Slipping into your fuzzy bathrobe, you hurry to the door, but when you reach it, whoever was there, is already gone. Though they left something behind. You bend down to pick up the small package, seeing your address on it and the usual postal stamps. Delivery? But you didn't expect anything.

You close the door and bring the unassuming box to your desk, putting it down next to the big toy on its base. Humming to yourself, mindlessly scratching at a spot on your neck, you open the package – and frown when you see its contents. Slowly you raise it out of its black satin bag. It's the dildo you ordered. The right size also. It's so small, barely as long as your hand, maybe the size of a soda can but much thinner, less than half the size of the toy that sits next to the opened box.

It's got the same design, the same ridges and nubs and the protruding bulbs of the knot, but it's so... tiny. You really ordered this? Apparently so, as you check the accompanying receipt and instructions. You can only half-remember that horny night when you browsed the site, and intimidated as you were, you chose the smallest size: Mini. You had no idea it would be this small. There's a picture of the different available sizes, and you realize the thing you actually fit into your cunt is the Large one. And just how large it is...

You shiver just thinking of having it inside you. But you also can't wait to put it back in. Your mind is hazy with memories of using it, of what really happened since you got it (and somehow you don't even wonder why you received two packages), and it's all a blur of ecstasy that makes you salivate and drip into the panties you put on.

Yet when you notice that the article has a name, you pause, blinking in confusion, your hand still scratching at what feels like a scabby wound on your neck. The name of the dildo feels familiar, like a distant memory, and it is –

As soon as you say it out loud, the big dark blue toy starts humming, its vibrations (even though you're not connected to it) sending shock waves through your whole body, activating all the right nerves. Your heart beats faster, your breaths turn into soft moans, and your cunt clenches hungrily around nothing.

“Fenrir.”

MASTERLIST // AO3 // ORIGINAL WORKS

KINKTOBER 2024 MASTERLIST

#x reader #x reader smut #monsterfucker #monster x reader #werewolf smut #original fiction #kinktober 2024 #kinktober #monster au #supernatural smut #joel miller smut #simon ghost riley smut #arthur morgan smut #logan howlett smut #wolverine smut #f!reader #fem reader #terato #teratophillia

917 notes · View notes

corazondebeskar-reads · 3 months ago

Text

of rage and ruin - chapter six

of rage and ruin series

chapter six

series masterlist | prev chapter | next chapter

werewolf!alpha!Joel Miller x f!omega!reader

word count: 4.8k

summary: you burn, and joel burns with you.

chapter warnings: dark, dead dove do not eat, a/b/o, alpha/omega dynamics, omegaverse, captivity, canon-typical violence, genre-typical violence, horror themes, graphic violence, abuse by captors (not by either joel or reader), body horror, viewer discretion is advised, dub-con due to heat, heat/rut, unprotected p in v, cum play, scenting, oral, angst, rut!joel has a filthy mouth, gratuitous use of petnames

for bonus angst pls listen to this 🖤

also on ao3

dividers by @saradika-graphics

Something in Joel aches in a way it hasn’t for over fifteen goddamn years. Something that knew you were too soft, too weak, too goddamn good for him. He didn’t know you. Wouldn’t know you. Couldn’t know you.

But he didn’t need to. He didn’t have to ask to know you’d never felt a life bleed out under your fingertips, never felt flesh give way to a knife, never known the kickback of a gun, the twin reverberation as its bullet tore through a person.

He hadn’t felt this clearheaded in years. No, he wouldn’t do you the disrespect of hiding behind the wolf. If he were to do this, to violate you like this, he’d have to live with it as the man. As Joel.

As the real monster.

It was the wolf’s nature, the wolf’s instinct. An undeniable pull. But the man?

He’d stomach this because he had to, but he’d brand it into the twinings of his soul. Another terrible thing, another debt racked up against him.

He looks at where you lay against his chest and presses another kiss to the top of your head even though it hurts, oh, it hurts him to be soft. He flays himself for you because he must.

Because it’s his fault you’re here, his fault you’re enduring this.

And because you’re his.

He knows he’s wicked and damned for it, but you are his. His omega. It’s been you and him, slowly drowning by the cement blocks of the bond, ever since they shoved that cloth to your nose in the wreckage and saw the way your pupils dilated, the way your body recognized him as a potential mate.

And he’s been fucked since the first time your sweet apple cider and oat scent permeated his cell.

You’re his. Ain’t nothin’ in this godforsaken world can change that. Nothin’ but you, of course.

And he knows, he fucking knows, it’s about to be too late for you. Neither of you will come out of this whole. Neither of you will come out of this separate.

Joel’s been a monster for far longer than he’s been a beast, and he knows. You’re his penance. You’re the punishment.

He’s doomed to bleed you over and over until you’re gone.

He never wanted an omega.

Not since Laura-of-the-Woods, Laura-of-the-dead-husband, Laura-of-the-unfailing-kindness when she should have shot them for doing exactly that to the only person she’d had left in this world who understood what they were.

Not since she explained that her husband hadn’t lost his mind in the change and eaten her because, well, he’d almost tried. But instead, a wicked instinct, something stronger than hunger and violence, had sunk its teeth into the curve of her shoulder and made a place for himself.

He’d marked her, claimed her, in that tense, fate-changing instance, his love for her beyond all reason heightened by his newfound nature.

She’d turned omega, and he’d turned her his.

And Joel had vowed to himself to never become the kind of beast that bound someone to the likes of him for all eternity.

He thinks he understands it, though. The allure. This soft, precious thing in his lap, this needy, whimpering omega, begging for him. Like he’s the only one in the world that can help her. Help you.

And he is.

You’re not of the right mind to consider yourself, or him, for that matter. You’re burning, melting, aching.

And he’s not touching you.

Joel’s lucky. He can switch, Can hide, Can bury himself in his other mind. He can blame the wolf or blame the man and live knowing it was never really up to him one way or another.

Not you, though. You don’t get to change. You don’t get to shed your skin and guilt and pain. You don’t get to sink your claws and teeth into soft flesh and then simply shift and shrug it into the shadows.

You have no choice. You must live with your choice. You will wake from this haze and remember, be forced to reckon with the way you rub your needy cunt against his thick thigh, the wiry hair slicked down as you soak him. The way you whine and whimper, these feral, nonverbal pleas for his hands, his tongue, his cock.

The way you keened as he broke and gave in, his entirely human fingers slipping into you without another torturous moment. Two at once, a groan falling from his lips at the way your warm body makes room for him.

It’s almost too much and it’s still not enough. Your hips meet his knuckles, a violent union, but even that ache doesn’t come close to the way your body craves his.

One of you is a human and one of you is a monster, one of you can still form words and one of you can only cry out. One of you is moving slow and steady, calm and calculated. One of you is sharp nails and tight grasps, teeth in flesh and fists in hair.

And it’s not the fucking werewolf.

You should have never wished for more. Should have never wanted to change, to be allowed to be the beast.

You will be, in your own way. But you don’t know that yet. All you know now is hunger.

His fingers work double-time, a calloused thumb coming to rub at your clit. He thinks maybe, maybe, if he takes the edge off, he can have one more semi-coherent conversation.

You cling to him, still sprawled there in his lap. Your body is clenched, not just around his thick, pistoning fingers, but at the waist, your core rumpled, bowed upward to him. Hands grasp his bicep and forearm, fingers digging little dashes into his skin. They’ll fade quickly, but he’ll remember. He’ll remember the way you needed him, how his little omega wrapped her body to his and whined so prettily. How your eyes fluttered shut only to fly back open with a gasp when he hit a new sweet spot and coaxed more liquid pleasure from your dripping cunt.

The first orgasm takes you over quickly and doesn’t last, doesn’t linger. It’s like the time you and your friends did a Polar Plunge for the local women’s shelter back in the Girl Scouts, when everything was still pigtails and Claire’s BOGO clip-on earrings and mismatched tiger stripes and leopard print.

It��s also nothing like that at all.

It’s a shockwave, a heated blanket, a sharp slap, a warm embrace. It’s the most intense orgasm you’ve had in your life, and it’s over in a flash.

And there’s Joel, whose hand still drips with your slick, shaking you by the shoulders as he forces you to sit.

“C’mon, darlin’,” he husks, eyes dark and sharp. “Answer me.”

“Wha?” You mumble stupidly, though you think you’re entitled to be a little stupid. He just reached up your pussy and pulled out your brain, after all.

“I said, you ain’t a virgin, right?” He seems to be begging. Praying to no one for the answer he wants.

Luckily, it’s the truth. “Nope,” you say. “Not in a long time.”

His shoulders slump on a sigh. “Look,” he says as two curled fingers lift your chin.

It’s not a smart move on his part, because that move might have done you in anyway, had you been two strangers flirting in a bar. It’s worse now that you’re, for lack of a better word, intoxicated by his hormones. The oaky musk has never been more alluring, and you just want to… you just want to…

You’re moving before you realize, going to bury your face in his chest, snuffling closer to your goal when he catches you by the chin and pulls you back.

“Wait,” he scolds, and something about his tone of voice grates against your spine.

You hold still, brows furrowed, something akin to anger beginning to boil. Wait? Wait?!

His thumb strokes your cheek, and it’s as if the anger was never there at all.

The whiplash has you dazed even more than his scent. “What’s wrong with me?” You ask him, eyes wide.

His chest clenches. “M’sorry, darlin’. I told ya. It’s the heat. You ain’t… you ain’t gonna feel like yourself for a while. It’s okay, though. I’m gonna take good care of ya.”

There’s something pinched in the corner of your brain. Something tugging at it as you absorb his words. “Am I gonna die?” You ask softly, looking up at him with wide eyes.

Joel’s face pulls tight, a low growl rumbling in his chest. “ No,” he snarls. “I told you, this is different. You’re mine .”

Instead of the shiver that should have run down your spine, there’s a burst of heat.

Vaguely, you wish you had asked more about the other omega. The one… the one he killed. But the thoughts are fleeting, and his hands are holding you in place as you let them drift away.

There’s no room in your head for anything but him now.

“Joel,” you whisper, and he hears what you can’t say.

“Hurts again already?” he mutters.

But you’re not listening. You’re back to burying your face in his bare chest, nuzzling the hair there, and snuffling over to push your face into the crook of his arm.

This time, he doesn’t have the strength to stop you. He growls, his hand cupping the back of your head and rubbing softly as he presses you in. A strangled moan escapes him as you nuzzle your face in his underarm, scenting yourself. Rubbing his sweat into your skin, bathing you both in each other.

“That’s it,” he murmurs, sliding his hand down to rub at your neck, traveling down your spine. “That’s a good girl.”

A shudder runs through you, a matching moan on your lips. You want him to say it again. Need to hear it. You whine, stretching and straining to wrap yourself around him like a starfish.

He catches you by the hips before you can grind your cunt against his cock. The thin cotton of your panties is sopping, his lip twitching. He lifts you, splaying you out on the mattress. You squirm a little, the feeling of the blanket he gave you against your crawling skin easing the itch.

His mouth is on you before you’ve gotten your bearings, a single claw erupting to slice through your panties and make way for him. Hot palms push your thighs back as he feasts. He tries to control it, tries to stay human for you, but the wolf can no longer abide your request.

He manages to stay the man— mostly. Not that you can tell, because all you can see is his morphing face, nothing visible beyond the bushy brows and ears.

Your hand finds its way down and tugs on one pointy ear, dragging a groan from his elongated muzzle. His tongue, that wonderfully long, thick, sandpapery tongue, plunges into your cunt and devours the plentiful slick gathered there.

The noises he makes are obscene. The room fills with sloppy, squishy slurps and heaving breaths. He snarls and moans, you gasp and whimper, each gripping onto the other with no chance of release. Both branding the other with bruising, aching fingerprints, though only his marks will linger.

Unlike the first, this orgasm grants you no relief. Instead, you ache. You begin to cry, pathetic sobs replacing the communal ecstasy. Tears burn your raw cheeks, and something inside Joel snaps.

As he pulls away, licking slick from his fingers, his face melts back. He wipes his glistening beard on the back of his hand.

“Alright, darlin’. No more teasin’. I’ll give you what you need.”

“Joel, alpha, please,” you cry. Your body is yarn on a loom, stretched taut, fibers straining. Your hand reaches for his, needing to weave him through to completion.

You don’t even notice that you’ve plunged four fingers up your cunt, hips bucking desperately, but it’s not enough. It’s not enough. Nothing is enough. Why is he denying you? Why is he doing this? Doesn’t he want you?

He snatches your wrist and wrenches it away, tongue clicking. “Naughty little omega,” he croons, “You can’t help yourself, huh? I’m bein’ so mean, tryin’ to get you ready, is that right?”

There’s some distant part of you that registers the way he’s setting up, that acknowledges his logic, but you just don’t fucking care. Fixing him with your most stubborn glare, you push your other hand to your leaking slit.

“If you’re not gonna help me,” you start, trying to sound as indignant as you feel.

He brushes a thumb over your furrowed brow, gently guiding your hand away. His broad hand gathers both of your wrists above your head, his leg slinging over to pin you.

“Relax, sweet thing. I’m gonna give you what you need; I promise.” His free hand cradles your cheek, thumb brushing over your bottom lip.

Your mouth parts for him, mind blissfully blank as your legs spread, wrapping around his body. He presses his thumb in, rubbing it over your tongue, which chases it. You wrap your lips around it, every part of you welcoming him in. He groans as you suckle on it, reluctantly pulling it away, trailed by your soft whine and a string of spit.

“None of that, now. As nice as your pretty mouth is, we’ll have time for that later,” he murmurs, lips brushing your forehead.

You keen, beyond words. There’s nothing in your head now; it’s all been burned away in the fever. He pulls his hand back to reach between your thighs and gather some of the slick pooled there, stroking it over his length.

“Hold still, darlin’,” he says firmly, lining the bulbous head of his cock up. When you feel it brush against your cunt, your hips cant up.

He lets go of your wrists to pin you by the hip.

“What did I say, huh? You’re gonna hurt yourself. F’you want my knot, baby, you gotta be a good girl and listen.”

There’s that tone to his voice again. The one that makes you feel like your muscles all fell asleep and now you’re filled with pins and needles. You settle, looking up at him with a pout.

“Yes, alpha.”

“Good girl,” he croons, a pleased little tug to the corner of his mouth.

You squirm, preening as his satisfaction bubbles up inside you.

He leans in, holding himself over you with one hand, the other still wrapped around his cock. Even completely human, you’re taken by his sheer size. A hulking mass, and though only a fraction of his weight presses on you, you’re at his mercy. It should scare you. He should scare you. He knows that, but you don’t seem to.

He rubs the tip through your folds, from your asshole to your clit. You’re shaking by the time he brings it back to your cunt and slowly, agonizingly slowly, begins to push inside.

He was right to try to stretch you first, to loosen you up with orgasms. You’ll pay the price of your impatience later, but now?

It’s nothing but bliss.

He’s girthy and long, and you’re so snug around him that you feel every vein, every throb, every twitch.

You’re aware of the sting where your body fails to accommodate him, but it doesn’t matter, doesn’t matter, because you flood around him, easing the way for him to overtake your limits and make a home for himself. Each inch has you seeing lights, closing your eyes against a kaleidoscope.

“No,” he grunts. “Keep your eyes on me.”

And you listen, of course. He’s glistening with the effort of holding himself back, muscles flexing.

“Let me see you,” he says, gruff tone leaving no room for disobedience.

You don’t move, though, staring up at him with your lips swollen and parted, eyes wide and rapt.

He shakes his head. “You that far gone, or my cock just got you speechless?” He snaps the strap of your sports bra. “If you wanna keep this, I suggest you take it off real quick.”

It’s over your head and lost somewhere on the floor before he’s finished speaking.

He groans, lunging forward to take a nipple into his mouth, suckling and flicking his tongue. As you lose yourself to the pleasure, he pushes the rest of the way inside.

Your hands fly up and grasp for him, burning themselves in the thick fur on his shoulders. The man is barely holding on, barely there as he buries himself, balls flush against your ass.

“Sorry,” he slurs around his rapidly growing teeth. “Sorry, can’t—can’t stop it—”

You nod as his tongue unfurls to lick up your neck. “S’okay, I—” but whatever semblance of a clear thought you had breaks into a cry as he starts to move.

You’re gone. You’ve been ground to dust and blown away. You’ve been left to sink slowly through a swamp.

You’ve been chewed up and spit out, buried in compost, dissolved.

And so has he.

As you move, clumsy at first, all bone and nail, as you begin to writhe and fall into a cresting cadence, there ceases to be a line of demarcation.

There is wolf and flesh and violence. There is blood and hope and fear.

He is not the man nor the wolf but something ubiquitous and all-encompassing. You absorb him into you, and so you are not a girl or an omega or a separate being. You are whole. You are held.

You are found.

And it’s not his cock that’s made you that way, just as it’s not your cunt that completes him.

No.

It’s teeth.

While his knot swells, your body splits for him, bleeds for him, lets him possess and fill and tear you apart. It’s okay. He’ll put you back together. You’re already patching him up, filling in the cracks. He’ll give you the same.

You wish you could say you were too lost. That you hadn’t begged him to do it. That he hadn’t begged the same.

But no, it was after. As he held you, a willing captive beneath him, as the fog of heat eased with each pulse of his cock, each load of his seed bloating you impossibly, that you blurted it out.

Your mind was clear, and your instincts had never been stronger. You wanted it. Maybe you didn’t quite know what it was, or why, but it was the only thing you wanted.

“Bite me,” you say, eyes wild.

He groans. “No, no, darlin’, I can’t. Don’t ask me that.” A beat. “Fuck. ”

He’s nearly the man again, his hazel eyes fixated on you, foreheads sticking together with sweat. He grinds, his knot securely locked inside your cunt, your overworked opening impossible to breach. His hips twitch at the same time as his lip.

“Alpha,” you whine.

“Stop,” he begs. “You don’t know what you’re askin’.”

His rejection hurts worse than the stretch. The image of him blurs with tears and he whimpers, wounded.

“Shh, darlin’, it’s alright,” he murmurs, stroking your head and cheek with tenderness in high contrast to the sharp claws so close to your delicate flesh.

But you’re not scared. He’d never hurt you. You find that you know this, for certain, a deep knot in your gut. Well. In addition to the literal knot that certainly feels like it’s deep in your gut.

“Alpha,” you whine, head tipping back.

He groans. “Don’ do that, darlin’. I ain’t strong enough.”

He was wolf just moments ago. But he’s rolled back the change so that his teeth won’t rend your soft flesh to ribbons.

No, it’s decidedly blunter teeth that shred you as he gives in, that sink so deep into the curve of your shoulder that you cry out, nails digging into his back. He holds on, growling, and you bring one hand up to card through his hair while he stays latched into your flesh.

His eyes flutter shut, his face gone lax in a way you’ve never seen. It smooths out some of his wrinkles, the deep stress lines still there but a deeper peace taking over for just this one, beautiful moment.

You squirm a little, writhing on his knot as it throbs and throbs and throbs in time with the wound on your shoulder. He draws away reluctantly, just enough to let the shift take back over so he can lap at the weeping mark with his rough tongue.

As always, it soothes the burn, and you moan, trembling under his care. He nudges you with his snout, nuzzling against your cheek, and you wind your fingers through his fur just as you had his hair.

His hips rock lazily, never drawing out but keeping the bulk of his knot rubbing against the deep parts of you normally unreachable, pushing something wild and untamable from you with each sick squelch.

The wolf looks down at you with something intense that you don’t want to analyze. Not right now. Not when you feel “so good, alpha, so good.” So good, in fact, that you don’t even realize you’re babbling praises for his cock as he snuffles every bit of you he can reach, licking and nuzzling, bathing you in him.

When his knot finally goes, you’re asleep. If he had feathers, he’d be ruffling his plumage in pride, but instead, he just shifts you so he can curl around you. Around his omega. His.

More than either of you know.

You float on the ocean, buoyed through a dreamless sleep. Later, you’ll tell him you think his cum is a sedative in the way his slobber is anesthetizing, and he’ll roll his big brown eyes and huff. Later, you’ll think about how his eyes change when he does, and you can’t choose a favorite. The wolf’s endless pools of bewitching brown or the soft green and gold flecks that herald the man.

Either way, you’re adrift at sea when you wake to his very human fingers in your cunt. He wears the face of the man but the dark eyes of the wolf. At least, you think so, until he looks up and feasts on you with them, and you can see the darkness is just his pupils, blown large as he pushes his cum back inside you.

“Y’took it so good, darlin’,” he murmurs. “Can’t let it go to waste now.”

“Hmm?” You mumble sleepily, squirming as he frowns, using two fingers to scoop some off the blanket. He brings the fingers to your lips and you open obediently, floating in your haze as he feeds you your communion.

You fall back asleep, fueling your sedative theory. He’ll roll his eyes later, but now? Now he hovers over you, cock rubbing against your hip impatiently, throbbing, aching, leaking.

He fists it with the hand still sticky with spend, tugging mercilessly. His hips buck up into his hand as he grunts, biting his lip until it bleeds to keep from disturbing your dreams. With a harsh huff, his cum splatters across your body, but it doesn’t soothe the ache. He’s still hard as he spreads it across your breasts, rubbing it over your collarbone.

There. He regards his art proudly, but it does nothing to quiet the way his heartbeat seems to have settled in his balls. He cups them, shifting them to settle on your thigh, nestled near the peak of your warmth, but it’s not enough.

He nudges you, already thin patience fraying.

You blink blearily at him, and look down at your chest. “Really?”

He blushes and scowls. “You smelled wrong,” he says, as if it’s something he can scold you over.

It doesn’t matter, though. The combination of his scent and the way his cock is grinding against your pelvis has you squirming in place. He sits back on his haunches, lifting you up as you let out a surprised squeak.

He sets you on his cock. There’s no preamble. He impales you on it and immediately begins rutting up as you scramble for purchase, grabbing his shoulders. He’s doing all the work, fucking himself with your tight, wet heat.

Not that you’re complaining. It’s maybe the hottest thing anyone’s done. All you can do is hold on and thrill him with your breathy moans and gasps.

“That’s it,” he murmurs, holding you to him. “I know what you need. Just take it, yeah?”

You nod against his shoulder. “Yes, alpha.”

He moans at your easy compliance, bouncing you roughly on his cock. “Gonna take my knot again, baby,” he grunts. “You’re gonna take it and you’re gonna take my whole fuckin’ load.”

You can’t even respond, each thrust knocking the breath from you. Instead, you occupy yourself by licking and nipping at the strained tendon of his neck.

“Bite, little omega,” he says in that tone, the one you can’t seem to resist.

So you do. It’s what you really wanted, anyway. To feel his flesh give way for you the way you are for him. Your teeth aren’t sharp, but still, they sink into him like a fist grasping a stone from a riverbed.

He hisses as he breaks under your tongue, moaning as you lap up the blood beneath. His knot swells, and you refuse to loosen your grip, jaw set around the strong line of muscle, and he wants to tuck you into the wound and keep you there.

The days are a blur. You’re not even sure it’s days. You sleep, you fuck, you don’t separate from one another. You do, eventually, stop biting him, but you’re a mess of claws and nails and teeth and fangs and so much cum. He stuffs you with it until it leaks out and does it again.

Until you wake up and find him on the other side of the room. He’s all man, dozing with his bare back against the chilly tile wall.

“Joel,” you rasp, mouth thick with sleep.

He cracks an eye and closes it again. “Go back to sleep. You need it.”

“Come keep me warm,” you mumble.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

The chill in his voice counteracts any good the blanket was doing. “Why?” You ask, cringing at how small your voice sounds.

He grunts dismissively.

“Don’t do this,” you snap. “Don’t you dare shut down.”

“Don’t worry,” he sneered. “You’ll still have the other one.”

“Don’t fuckin’ run from this. You bit me. Not the wolf.”

“Don’t talk about shit you don’t understand.”

Don’t. Don’t don’t don’t. It’s all either if you can say. There’s no room for any allowances here, only the bitter space growing between.

You crack first. You’re allowed, you think, since you’re flayed open and raw while he gets to be untouchable.

“Joel,” you whisper.

His head snaps up to look at you, arms still guarding his heart. Your face must say more than you’d like, because he heaves a heavy sigh.

“I’m the only alpha here,” he says. “You wouldn’t choose an old bastard like me out there.”

“I wouldn’t choose any of this,” you say, but it’s the wrong thing.

“Goddamnit, darlin’, don’t you think I know that?” He stalks over, gripping your shoulders and leering down at you with a scowl. “I’m not a good man. Far from it. But before this,” he gestures at you vaguely, “that was a line I ain’t never crossed. Never put a hand on someone like that who didn’t want it.”

“Bullshit,” you say, softer than a whisper.

“What’d you say?” He says, shadows brushing over the lines of his face as he looms over you.

“Bullshit,” you grit louder. “I know you r-raped your last omega. The one you killed.”

He pulls away from you with a hiss, like the fever that still lingered on the edges of you had scalded him. “You know that, huh?” He growls. “S’that what you think?”

“Cheryl told me. She said you didn’t make it ten minutes without going after him.”

“Yeah,” Joel agreed. “We fought. I ain’t proud of it, but I did not rape him. Jesus Christ. S’that what you’ve thought of me this whole time?”

Despite the rage brewing in his eyes, you can see the hurt, too. More like you can feel it, and a whimper slips from your lips before you can stop it, cheeks burning as you realize your mistake.

“I-I thought… I’m s-“

He cuts you off, cupping your cheek in one great, human paw. His thumb brushes over the dry skin there, unable to resist the pull to comfort you. That whimper damn near did him in and he can’t believe the power you have over him already.

“Just… drop it,” he mutters, and pulls you in against his chest so you can bury your face and apologies there. His hand cups your head, a gentle stroking of his thumb on the back of your neck sending spidery shivers skittering, goosebumps bursting in their wake.

“S’okay. I gotcha, darlin’,” he murmurs mindlessly, kissing the top of your head.

He doesn’t need to say it, though.

You know.

next chapter

tysm for being patient during my hiatus. ily and i hope this lives up to your expectations i'm v nervous be niceys to me pls

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #the last of us fic #joel miller x f!reader #alpha!joel x omega!reader #alpha!joel miller x omega!reader #alpha!joel miller #werewolf!joel #werewolf!joel miller #tlou fic #tlou smut #fic: of rage and ruin #dead dove fic

224 notes · View notes