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#pedro pascal x you
talaok · 1 day
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Okay so I’m thinking Pedro x Actress!reader where another famous guy/actor says in an interview that he has a crush on us which makes Pedro a bit jealous and then we all end up at the same event - maybe Pedro gets abit angsty with him but he’s super loving and affectionate toward us…
warnings: jelousy
a/n: it goes without saying that i apologize for the wait babe, i really loved this request 
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It wasn't that he hated him, it was just that if anything were to happen to him he wouldn't be the one to cry, that's all...
and maybe he'd thought about punching that smug look off his face one... or twice... or every time the thought of him came up.
But it still wasn't hate
Hate is a strong word, and Pedro wasn't not one to throw it around easily, he was all for peace and love and everything but this guy... this guy was really pushing the limits
And what the actual fuck was he even doing here tonight?
"You're staring"
Your soft, amused voice pulled him out of his own thoughts, his eyes sliding to you
"I just don't get why he's here"
You stifled a laugh as you answered "The same reason why we are baby"
"he's not even nominated" he grumbled,
"neither am I" You smiled, placing your hand on his cheek, feeling his soft scruff graze your palm "It's not a big deal babe, he probably said my name just because it was the first one that popped into his mind" you shook your head "I bet it's not even true"
Yeah right
He would have believed that if you were anybody else, but you... fuck- it didn't take him even a second to fall in love and you expected him to believe that that guy didn't have a crush on you? He would have sooner begun believing that Mark Zuckerberg was one of those lizard guys.
You were everything anyone could have ever dreamed of, you were funny, so incredibly smart it made him feel like a fifth grader in comparison, and god you were the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen 
he knew what you did to men, he knew what you did to men because that's exactly what you did to him,
and he didn't even mind that much, he'd never been the jealous type, but the problem with Shawn wasn't that he liked you (because he clearly did), but it was that he had the audacity, the smugness to fucking say it out loud, to admit it in front of a camera for anyone to see, like the woman he was talking about didn't have a husband, like he wasn't her fucking husband.
"I saw him look at you before"
This time, you did let out a little snort
"what, how dares he?" you mocked him, laughing again as his face remained completely unamused "It's your big night babe, don't let this silly little thing ruin it, please"
But just then, just when he was finally starting to let go a little, the focus of all of his loathing appeared beside you
"I'm sorry to interrupt-"
Then fucking don't
"I just wanted to introduce myself" 
Shawn's eyes were only on you, as if he didn't even exist, as if your hands hadn't been on his cheeks but a moment prior
"I'm Shawn," he said, offering his hand to you "I'm... well, I'm a really big fan" he ended with a soft laugh, smiling in that charming way that surely made women all woozy
"Hi Shawn, it's a pleasure to meet you-"
As you shook his hand, Pedro was closing his into fists
This fucking guy-
"Hi pal"
Pedro's voice didn't sound even a little bit not completely pissed off
"I'm Pedro," he said "her husband"
The flicker of amusement that sparked behind his eyes made Pedro seriously ponder whether or not a little punch was that bad of an idea
"Oh, I didn't know you were married"
Andrew's eyes were back to you, and god it was taking all of Pedro not to grab him and throw him to the other side of the room
Just the fact that he was looking your way seemed too much, 
How dare he look at you, at his beautiful wife, at the love of his life?
It felt wrong, it was wrong, and it was making him furious
"I'm sure you didn't" Pedro grunted, taking a slow step closer to him "Shawn right?" he asked, even though he knew much too well who he was "What exactly are you doing here?" Pedro's eyes narrowed, his head tilting "I didn't notice your name in any of the nominations"
"baby" your soft warning was met with a soft smile from him, one that faded into a stoic/murderous gaze as soon as your husband's eyes were back on the man before him
"I'm just asking a question sweetheart, that's all"
Shawn seemed to accept Pedro's challenge in the blink of an eye
"I'm here with a friend, he's the one that got the nom"
Pedro nodded slowly, "ah. Right," he said, his hand going to your back and drawing gentle circles on it
He didn't miss the way Shawn followed the movement
"And why exactly are you talking to my wife Shawn?"
Now that, that seemed to take him aback a little, but he recovered quickly
"What?" he laughed "is no one allowed to talk to your wife without your permission or something?"
"Oh absolutely not, my wife can talk to whomever she wishes," Pedro spoke "I'm just not very fond of her talking to men that have openly admitted to liking her" he shrugged as if his eyes and voice weren't yelling murder 
You, in the meantime, were busy looking for the fastest way out of this place
"You've seen the video," Shawn said more like a statement
"I sure did" Your husband nodded "I especially liked the part where you described her as your "dream woman""
Shawn sighed loudly, shaking his head
"listen, man-"
"No, you listen, man" Pedro interrupted him "How 'bout you get the fuck away from me and my wife, mh?" he said more like a threat "How bout that?"
Shawn let out a loud breath before responding
"whatever man" he sighed, his eyes moving to you "It was nice to meet you y/n, maybe we can meet another time..." he glanced to the man on your right "when the guard dog isn't around"
"yeah" Pedro scoffed "Go fuck yourself, buddy"
You both stared at his back as he walked away, but after no more than two seconds, you couldn't help but let your lips pull into the smile you'd been holding this whole time
"that was a bit harsh"
Pedro only grinned as he brought you flash against him with his hands on your waist
"Like you haven't done worse" he smirked
Yeah... while Pedro wasn't usually jealous, you were... let's just say you were not exactly on the same wavelength
"you looked ready to kill him" you chuckled, wrapping your arms behind his neck
"mh" he hummed, ghosting your mouth "Who says I wasn't" he teased, his lips crashing with yours in a long, deep kiss that Pedro absolutely didn't wish for Shawn to be witnessing
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Camp Crystal Lake: Chapter 6
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Requested by @yellowjacketsbuzzbuzz
Joel Miller x f!reader (romance/horror)
Setting: Camp Crystal Lake
The reader is taking on the position of a camp counselor at the infamous Camp Crystal Lake. While she begins to enjoy her summer, even crushing on the camp director Joel, a killer lurks in the woods unbeknownst to anyone.
Hours went by. The sun rose and dipped closer to the horizon. Painting turned into playing. Playing turned into swimming. At the end of the shift, the lifeguard stand and the tops of the docks had a fresh coat of paint. The docks, themselves, were fully assembled.
I saw Sandra tug on Jeff’s blue tank top. She whispered something to him, he shook his head with a smirk and then after calling him a, “chicken shit,” he snickered and followed her into the woods through the trees.
The rest of the staff had made their way out of hiding, so to speak, all eager to take a dip in the lake after a day of sun and sweat. It turned into a mini party on our own private beach.
I stared at Joel in his mesh shorts in all of his shirtless glory. He had been forced into the water when the guys threw him in as a joke and had tossed his soaked shirt up on the lifeguard stand. I knew right then, with regard to what Sandra had asked me in the shed, that my answer would definitely be yes.
I took a break from chicken fights, lounging on the dock and wading in the lake to head back up to the shed. A stroke of paranoia hit me when I realized I hadn't seen the key Joel had given Sandra and me since earlier that day.
I sighed to myself when I saw the gold key still set in the center of the doorknob.
“Good.” I spoke the word to myself.
“What's good?” Joel asked, making me whip around.
I jumped, not hearing him come up, and then smiled and blushed, as I typically did when in his company.
“Sorry.” Joel laughed. “I didn't mean to scare you.”
“That's okay.” I shook my head and looked back at him and smiled.
“I know you have more knowledge of this place than the others,” he guessed and then gave a small grin and teased, “Not scared of Camp Crystal Lake, are you?”
I was still grinning but shrugged, “I grew up hearing stories about this place. I know “Camp Blood” is right around the corner.”
“You gonna last all summer?” Joel leaned an arm on the doorframe and I took a step back into the shed, still staring him down.
“I'll last.”
“Yeah?” He took a step in, passing by the open doorway.
The next part happened all at once. My brain was unable to process that it was really happening when Joel pulled me to him by the hand. Instinctively my arms wrapped around him and our lips locked in a sneaky makeout session as if we were teenagers.
I saw stars from that first kiss. I thought of myself as a rather boring person; a rule follower. So, when this unorthodox romance unsuspectingly bloomed right in front of my face, I was on cloud nine. No kiss that I'd experienced had ever been that hot.
My eyes didn't open for a second or two when Joel’s lips parted from mine; though he still held me close. “I'm not supposed to be fraternizing with the staff,” he whispered, making me laugh lightly and open my eyes.
“I won't tell,” I said quietly, making him grin into another smoldering kiss inside the sweltering shed.
I'm kissing my boss! He's hot! Omg! My mind was reeling with cliche phrases as we carried on.
“Joel,” I snuck his name in the middle of it and immediately regretted it when his lips left mine.
“I crossed a line-” he began but I cut him off.
“No.” I shook my head and smiled so he knew I was okay, “No. It's not that. I just.. wow.” I actually said ‘wow’ out loud and hated myself for it.
“Oh, shit.” Joel looked out a small window behind me and made a face.
“What?”
“Sheriff is here. What the fuck does he want?”
“The sheriff?” I took a breath and looked up at him, annoyed that he might have to leave the small, hot space we shared.
Joel grinned at me, “Are you.. are you okay.. with this?”
I smirked again and nodded. “I've never done anything like this.”
Joel laughed and then glanced out the window again as the sheriff grew closer. And then I saw Sandra and Jeff walking solemnly behind him, exchanging glances.
What happened? I wondered.
Joel reached for a stray bucket of paint, mostly as a prop, and popped out of the shed. “What can I do for you, officer?” He asked, drawing the man's attention toward him.
I wandered out of the shed behind him, welcomed by the much cooler air.
“You the guy who runs this place?” The husky, mustached man asked.
He nodded and extended a hand. “Joel Miller.”
“I found two of your people over at them abandoned cabins,” the officer said, using his thumb to motion to Jeff and Sandra. “Camp Blood. Sniffing around. It's private property.”
“Sir, we didn't mean,” Jeff began but Joel put up a hand.
“I'll handle this, Jeff.”
The officer glanced back at Jeff and then to Joel, again. Annie wandered over and stood beside Joel, attempting to be friendly.
“Is everything okay?” She asked.
“I just might get a warrant against this place,” the officer threatened, making both of them straighten up.
“Oh really?” Joel asked.
“Look Joel, you've got a good reputation. You want to create a safe haven here for the summer for some kids. The town supports that, we all want that. But, you're too close. It's been quiet for a long time here,” he glanced at Jeff and Sandra again, “And we want to keep it that way.”
“So do I, officer.” He gave a parental look to the two of them, causing Jeff to make a face. Sandra tied the sand with her sneaker.
There was a pause and it appeared as if the officer was waiting for Joel to do something as he stood staring at him with his hands on his hips.
“Why don't you two go back to the main cabin,” Joel told them. “Get washed up and I'll be in in a few minutes to speak with you.”
Sandra nodded, catching my glance for a moment, and gave Joel a nod.
“Sorry Mr. Miller,” Jeff added for good measure in a way that was purposely boyish.
“You're not even going to reprimand them?” The sheriff asked, “No punishment?”
“Annie,” Joel said, glancing over to her.
“Yeah?”
“No seconds on dessert for Jeff and Sandra tonight.”
I tried my best to hold back a laugh when the sheriff's jaw dropped at Joel’s nonchalant ‘punishment’. He then waved his hands and stormed off. When he was far enough away I finally let out a little laugh.
“Well, that was interesting,” Annie said, high-fiving Joel.
He shook his head and rolled his eyes. “I better go talk to them.”
“So two of our people get hauled in because ten years ago some girl panicked and fell out of a canoe?” She went on, beginning to walk back down to the water where the others stared in our direction with questions circulating in their eyes. “Give me a break.”
Joel turned back to me and smirked. “So.. was I reading things right?” He asked quietly, looking over his shoulder now toward the others, and then back to me. “I sensed that you might..”
“You're reading it right,” I said, knowing full well what he was talking about. “I, uh.. yeah.” I laughed and toyed with my hair as I searched for the right words to say.
“Maybe we could talk later on tonight.”
I nodded right away, “Sure.”
“Okay.”
“Okay.” I echoed him and he maintained a smile for a second or two before going to the cabin where he sent Jeff and Sandra.
I touched my lips with my fingers and smiled. I contemplated telling Sandra before making my way back down to the beach to hang out a bit with the others.
@gissellec1 @cattt777 @mellymbee @armybts20137 @bbiophiliaa @littleblackcatinwonderland @mermaidgirl30 @brittmb115 @yellowjacketsbuzzbuzz @beltzboys2015-blog blog @lwfics @pedropascal111
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I can confirm a Javier Peña fic is in progress 🫡 god bless America and GOD BLESS PEDRO PASCAL 🦅🦅🦅🦅🦅
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mayiwritesomething · 3 days
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Love is an Unfamiliar Name (Pt. 9 - Final)
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Wordcount: 2,7 k
Pairing: Pedro Pascal x f!reader
A/N: Hi guys, thank you all for following this series that was quite fun to write. But like everything in life, we’ve got to the end of it haha
Don’t want to give any spoilers about it, besides the fact the reader cries listening to Arctic Monkeys (who has never?), the only thing i’ll say is that we have a quite happy ending, and I hope you like it 💖
I’m thinking about writing some more one shots about them, should I?
>MASTERLIST
———-
Home
The next day was a battle. Your head felt as heavy as lead when you woke up, unsure if it was from the two shots of whiskey or the tears you shed the night before. As you faced the breath of sobriety, you noticed missed calls from Jennifer and Colin.
Upon opening the group chat with the girls, you were met with a flood of messages and chaos. Some were concerned about you (you couldn't even recall the tear-filled voice messages you sent from the hotel), while others were hurling insults at Pedro, and the sober part of you felt bad reading those.
Scrolling through the messages, you came across a selfie Jenny had sent: she and Colin acting silly in front of the elevator mirror with the caption, "Colin says hi!" Despite your own misery, you couldn't help but feel happy for them. After all, you had been shipping these two for years.
As you continued scrolling, a notification from Colin popped up: “Forgive me now. Thank me later.” You were too miserable to comprehend what he meant, so you began tidying up your things to distract yourself. The need to immerse yourself in music to navigate through your cathartic moment and move forward grew stronger. With one month left of shooting, you couldn't afford to be unprofessional.
Opening your suitcase, you discovered one of his sweaters that you had planned to return to him if he were there now. Your Life Sucks playlist transitioned to Arctic Monkeys, and you found yourself lying on the bed, crying and singing, "Do I wanna know? If these feelings flow both ways... Sad to see you go. Was sorta hoping you’d stay…" Through sobs, you muttered, "Oh, my friend Alex... I'm so pathetic, oh my god," as you chuckled at your own disaster.
Still reclined on the bed, time slipped away unnoticed as an 80s ballad filled the room. Suddenly, the doorbell pierced through the melody, jolting you from your reverie. Rapidly, you silenced the song and glanced in the mirror, ensuring you didn’t look like a panda before rushing to answer the door. Why had Jennifer shown up unannounced?
Swinging the door open, you exclaimed, “Hey, early riser! What the fuc—Pedro?” Confusion swirled as you tried to comprehend how he found your place. Jenny wouldn’t have given your location, knowing your temper all too well.
“Hi,” Pedro mumbled sheepishly, “could we talk?”
“Firstly, how on earth did you find me?” You inquired, a mix of curiosity and annoyance evident in your tone.
“I had some help from your Irish friend,” he confessed, scratching his head trying to find the right words—a habit you found quite cute. “Oh, and I brought you some coffee— if you're up for a chat,” he added, his embarrassment palpable.
“Well, I suppose we both have things to discuss,” you conceded, feeling remorse for the events of the previous night but determined to clarify things.
“May I come in?” he requested.
“Yes, of course,” you replied, ushering him inside. He handed you a cup of Colombian dark coffee, your favorite, with a simple "thank you" from you. The atmosphere was oddly civil, considering the circumstances. Though no words had been exchanged yet, it was evident that both of you had let your guard down for the first time.
“Where do we begin?” he asked, his eyes betraying traces of recent tears.
“From the very beginning, where we both feigned indifference and claimed it was merely a casual thing with no strings attached,” you responded, a playful grin tugging at your lips.
"Wow, that was sharp," he quipped with a shy smile.
"Oh no, I'm just trying to be nice, given the circumstances," you remarked ironically.
"Can we just skip this teenage back-and-forth?" he asked, a hint of seriousness in his tone this time.
"Of course, dear. You've done nothing wrong, so you can ask for whatever you want," you said, settling into one of the armchairs in front of him, struggling to contain your sarcasm.
"I'm serious. Let's act like the adults we are. I know I've messed things up, but you're not a saint either, okay?" His Aries pride sometimes grated on you, despite how much he cared.
"Fine my love" you said, unable to hide your sarcasm, a defense mechanism he hated. "You show up at my hotel room uninvited; bring me coffee like we’re all good right after; firstly, treat me like a piece of meat the last time we had sex..."
"I was drunk. I know that's not an excuse, but—"
"You will let me finish before you dare to speak," You were on the brink of losing your composure, and he on the other side kept silent as you continued. "You have no idea how terrible I felt that day, and I still feel actually. And secondly, making assumptions? How many times have I talked to you about my friendship with Colin? I've never questioned any of your friendships—except for Kate, of course, which had my reasons to, and you know it " you chuckled to yourself before growing serious. "I have no problem admitting my mistakes. I provoked you by calling you a friend, which I know upset you. But it all traces back to our last night together. You seemed distant, like I was pressuring you into something you didn’t want to. I don't want to force you to do anything. I understand you have your own struggles, but I want you to understand mine as well." He was paying attention to your words, tears welled up in your eyes as you added, "What the hell are you so afraid of, dude?"
He was silent, but it wasn’t like he was throwing a tantrum; it was more like a kind of desperation, a fear of saying something he felt he shouldn't. “Pedro, talk to me,” you asked firmly. “There is no right or wrong answer; I just want to understand you, and I want you to understand me.”
He finally faced you, it was clear that he was searching for strength to spit it out. He finally said: "I’m afraid that you'll also leave me someday," his voice quivered, his hand trembling. He was visibly anxious. "I said those things to hurt you before you hurt me... because every time things start to feel right between us, it feels too good to be true, you know? I feel, i don’t know…like I don’t deserve it. Throughout the years, whenever I felt it was the right time, everyone…just… they just… left. So why should things be different now?" He held back tears as he gazed at you. "I wanted to be the one to walk away, not the one left behind," he confessed, searching for the right words. "But I… I can… I can’t just walk away from you, and that terrifies me."
You could sense his struggle, and despite your own issues, you were willing to give it a chance to make things clear. Seeing how difficult it was for him to express himself, you decided to do as you had suggested to him earlier: listen.
He continued, "While I want to be close to you, I fear you'll be my downfall. And it fucking hurts baby, it really does hurt. It's not that you're like a bad person, it’s the complete opposite, you're so fucking amazing." Tears streamed down his face as he faced you. "It's a kind of paradox that I can't escape... and you're like a calm presence amidst this chaos. Somehow, I don’t know... You manage to navigate through it… Despite your own issues and fears, you remain unafraid. I wish I could be like that. So I wouldn’t fuck things up and—“ he started crying nonstop.
"Hey..." You rose from your chair, for the first time, witnessing his true and raw vulnerability, a rare sight compared to your usual dynamic. While he was typically uninhibited, you tended to be much more reserved. Kneeling in front of him, you gently grasped his trembling hands, urging him to trust you. "Pedro, please look at me," you whispered, running your fingers through his hair. "Please... just look at me."
"I never meant to hurt you the way I did yesterday. I don't know why I—" he said through sobs.
"Shh, don't speak. Just try to listen," you interrupted, wanting him to find peace. You sought calmness, knowing you handled emotions differently from him.
"I never thought I could feel these feelings ever again—you appeared out of nowhere and… and… disrupted everything I've spent years building." He said it through sobs.
"By that, you mean the walls you've put up around yourself?" You questioned calmly, meeting his gaze. He nodded, tears glistening in his eyes again. Gently caressing his face, you offered reassurance. "I can't judge you. Somehow, you've managed to break down the walls around me as well. Even though you're quite different from anyone I've been drawn to before, you know?"
"What do you mean?" he inquired, trying to understand your words.
"You’re different from everything I’ve experienced—you're a friend, a caring listener, kind, intelligent, humble, funny, a bit stubborn, someone who admires and respects others," you began, opening up. "You're like a ray of sunshine after a storm, embodying everything that I am not."
"But… Why are you saying this?" he pressed, his expression reflecting a mix of curiosity and emotion.
"Because I want to do things differently this time.” You needed to say this. “I’m tired, you know? Not tired of you, I mean, in life in general… I’ve always been the one who kept my needs stored in a little box, waiting for the right moment to show them, and there is no right moment, man…There's no need to waste time hiding our true intentions, no desire to inflict or endure unnecessary pain like we both did to each other," you confessed, laying bare your intentions. “By the way, I’ve spent thousands of dollars in therapy all these years; I must make them worthy,” you added, trying to lighten the mood.
You felt his body relax under your touch, his tension easing. Continuing to stroke his hair, you remarked softly, “I never thought you were this fearful, Pedro. I am afraid too—all of this is new to me… I don't want to lose you or even walk away. But we need to take this leap together; we'll never know unless we try.”
“But... but I really don’t know what to do,” he admitted.
“There's no magic formula here. We were great friends before; now, we've added kissing and sex—amazing sex, I must add,” you quipped, eliciting his first chuckle.
“The way you put it makes it sound so simple,” he observed, visibly lightening up.
“Because it is. We've been seeing each other for months now. Our mistake was pretending it was casual when, deep down, we both knew it wasn't,” you emphasized. As he nodded in agreement, you continued, “Right from the start, we were both scared, hiding behind a facade of indifference like ‘oh cool, I like having sex and spending time with you’. —I care about us, about being with you, the real you. You can be honest with me, Pedro.” You needed to hear this from him. “Do you feel the same way?.”
“ I do. I want to be with you.” He said it once again, trying to find the right words. “You are everything that I always wanted. You are fuckin brave, fearless, wise, and a strong leader with a compassionate heart. You care for people’s wellness, command respect while remaining approachable,sexy as fuck…” You laughed at the small detail. “And you make me feel safer whenever I'm with you—sometimes I wish we had met before," he declared, now cupping your face in his hands.
"Things happen when they're meant to happen, Pedro. Remember how we first met in person? The fucking disaster," you remarked, chuckling softly as you held his hand that cradled your face. "Game of Thrones guy," you added with a smile.
“You should’ve seen your face the moment you saw me,” he chuckled. "Who would have imagined that nearly a year later, we'd be having this conversation?" he pondered.
"Definitely not me," you laughed.
Remaining in your shared moment, you both locked eyes for a few seconds. The tears had dried, and the silence was eventually broken by his whisper, "I'm sorry for everything I’ve done to you. I was an asshole—"
"It was a series of missteps from both sides," you murmured back, drawing closer to him. He instinctively drew you nearer, allowing your breaths to mingle. "Do you want to give us a chance? To try and make things right." Your voice was a gentle caress, melting into the air.
"I do, baby. I really do," he affirmed, cupping your face as he leaned in to kiss you tenderly. The weightlessness you felt after sharing your emotions made this kiss unlike any other; it wasn't a band-aid for past fights but a kiss brimming with genuine emotion. The way he held your face while you grasped his hand, the delicate touch as he guided you to sit on his lap. "I've missed you," he confessed, gazing into your eyes as his hands traced a path from your shoulders to your thighs, sending shivers down your spine.
"I've missed you too," you murmured between kisses. "Well, I mainly missed your body a bit more, if you catch my drift," you teased.
"Are you going to bring that up every time now?" he chuckled, drawing you closer. "I know, that was terrible. I’m sorry."
"Oh, you bet I won’t forget this easily," you agreed playfully.
"Baby?"
"What is it?" You said.
"Don't you think the bed would be more comfortable?" You could feel him on you, so you knew exactly what he meant.
"Yeah, I think... I will start to have cramps in a minute too, I can feel it," you joked.
"And you're the younger one here," he retorted.
"Well, we both know I’m far from young, but at least my back is holding up well," you bantered.
"Fuck you," he countered, lifting you up as he stood to take you to the bed.
"Actually, it's you who's supposed to fu—"
Before you could finish, he silenced you with a kiss. "I'll take care of that," he assured, his lips grazing your neck before returning to yours. "And I'll take my time until you're begging for more," he promised, his laughter mingling with yours. “As you aaaalways do,” he added.
“I like the idea,” you answered, as he now had your shirt lifted and was tracing kisses all over your sternum. As your fingers ran through his hair, he came back to kiss you.
"Baby,” he said, hesitant as you just hummed in response. He then continued looking into your eyes and asked, “Are we like a ‘we’, like me and you?”
"Yes, we are baby,” you said, smiling. "Yes, we are.”
“I’m not saying that just to say, ok?”
“Okay”
“But I want you to know that i…well… i kind of... I… I mean….” he struggled to find the word.
"I love you too," you giggled. "And can you believe I'm the hedgehog here?"
"You're totally a hedgehog; there's no doubt about it, even after all this time," he grinned. "And you, well, you're a real firecracker." He playfully traced your lips with his fingers, making you grin back at him.
"Te amo," he said, hugging you close as you gave him a soft kiss. It was the first time you both felt a new kind of connection, like finding a comfy spot, just like home, that felt just right. After all this time, something you both tried to find was already there, it just took some time for you to see.
Love wasn't just a word for passion; it was a mix of little things that went beyond the butterflies and excitement of seeing each other. These were things you both naturally did even when you were just friends, and it felt pretty amazing.
“And I thank you for bringing me here
For showing me home, for singing these tears
Finally, I've found that I belong here”
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strang3lov3 · 1 month
Text
Chevelle
Summary- (joel miller x virgin!reader) Joel figures out that you’re the one who hit his baby, his precious 1964 Chevrolet Chevelle. He needs you to make it right, but he doesn’t want your money ❤️‍🔥🍆 (5k words)
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Tags- MDNI hot girls can’t drive, implied age gap, virgin!reader, we're calling him tender dark!joel, soft!dom joel, tender dubcon (power imbalance, joel solicits sex from reader, no explicit consent but reader is into it) reader has a luscious bush, Joel walks you through handjobs, blowjobs, fingering, oral, unprotected piv, creampie, come eating, loss of virginity. Joel is clothed and reader is not.
A/N- Writing this is how I spent my spring break. Hope you love it 🩵 Thank you @noxturnalpascal for all of your help editing and your encouragement.
Based on mine and @beefrobeefcal shared prompt where we asked, "What would happen if reader damaged Joel’s vehicle?” Her fic is here and it’s one of my favorite things I’ve read!! Kiki has such a beautiful voice in her writing and I love all the details she adds to her fics.
Pawn shop by @toxicanonymity came to mind when I wrote this story and was a source of inspiration. Also worth a read, I have nothing but love for Tox’s writing 🩷
It’s late when you get off your shift at Tony’s, the shitty Italian restaurant you’ve been working at for far too long. It doesn’t pay much and you’ve considered working a new job to save up and move out of your brother’s house, but you’ve been putting that idea off for a variety of reasons. One of them being Joel. 
Joel’s your neighbor, a sexy, older man you’ve got a certain fondness for. His hair used to be more brown but it’s grayer now, same with the scruff on his face. He’s got sparkling, chocolatey eyes and a sharp nose set above a thick, downturned mustache. He always looks a little dirty when you see him, with dirt caked into his forehead wrinkles and grease smeared along his temple or his jaw. He’s always either fresh off a contracting job or working on his car. He’s got this cute little Chevy he spends his nights and weekends with, a 1964 Chevrolet Chevelle, baby blue.
Joel was one of the first people to welcome you to the neighborhood and even helped you move your stuff into your brother’s house, though helping you implies he let you do any work. Joel offered you a pop from his fridge and then took over entirely, putting both himself and your brother to work moving all of your stuff in. You didn’t lift a finger that day. 
-
You can’t seem to pull your eyes from the little green glowing letters on your dash, watching letters and numbers on the screen roll on by. 12:37 A.M. 101.9. Paper Bag - Fiona Apple.  You’re so out of it. You yawn and blink a couple of times, focusing back on the narrow roads of your neighborhood. It’s so poorly lit over here, and it doesn’t help that one of your headlights is out. Joel’s been bugging you to let him fix that, he says it’ll only take five minutes.
You turn onto your street and bam. You’re wide awake now. You just hit something. 
You hit Joel’s car. Joel’s fucking car. What the fuck is it doing on the street? He always has it safely kept in his garage. Oh dear god, the panic is setting in. This is Joel’s baby. You just hit his baby, his pride and joy. 
You can’t even bring yourself to assess the damage you’ve inflicted upon his dear Chevy. Probably dented to shit, but you don’t really wanna know. Instead, you just pull your foot off the brake, press your remote control garage door opener, then pull into your garage as you press your lips together tightly. You’re surprised and relieved to find that there’s hardly a scratch on your own car. Joel won’t know. He won’t.
The next morning, you’re sipping on your coffee as you check your mailbox. Joel’s outside his house, loading up his work truck with some tools and supplies. He waves to you and you wave back, a small stack of mail in your hand. 
“Whose mail you got today, sweetheart?” he calls to you. 
You check the names on some of the letters. “Davidsons’ and Pierces’,” you answer through a chuckle. Joel rolls his eyes and laughs. The incompetent mailman is a running joke amongst yourself, Joel, and your other neighbors. He never seems to deliver anything to the right address, so you and your neighbors are often hand delivering each other your misplaced mail.
You laugh with Joel until you notice his smile disappear. He’s narrowing his eyes on his Chevy. Your heart drops as he steps closer to the vehicle, then pinches his nose in frustration. Fuck. Joel stomps back to his work truck, haphazardly tosses something in the bed and then slams the tailgate. Yeah, he’s fucking pissed. Your neck and your face heat in shame as you quickly run back inside.
-
In the two weeks since Joel’s car was hit, he’s been working to repair it tirelessly. He’s ordered a new tail light, since whoever hit his car shattered it and he’s spent a pretty penny ordering the exact shade of baby blue paint to touch up all of the scratches. Joel only trusts himself to touch his car, but the situation necessitates that he’ll have to take it in to a local repair shop to get the dents out. Fucking fantastic. 
When Joel gets off work tonight, he notices he’s got some packages on his doorstep, hoping it’s the shit he ordered for his car. He’ll open them shortly, but he first notices that one of the packages is addressed to you. Go figure, he thinks, chuckling to himself. He walks the package over to your house, noticing your car is parked outside of the driveway. And it’s backed in too, which is odd. Joel assumes your car must’ve been blocking your brother’s, so he probably played musical chairs with your cars to get his out and then backed yours up onto the driveway. You never back your own car in the driveway, and Joel’s pretty sure it’s because you don’t know how. You probably can’t parallel park, either. He’ll have to show you how to do that sometime.
What’s also new is a bit of baby blue paint on your red Honda Civic’s exterior, right by your headlight, the same headlight he’s been nagging you to let him fix. Joel bites the inside of his cheek. Interesting. He knocks on your door, package in hand, but he’s met with no answer. No biggie. He leaves the package on your porch and goes back to your car, inspecting the paint once more. He scoffs in astonishment and walks home. Unbelievable. 
-
The next evening, you check your mailbox after forgetting to do so earlier. As always, you never have just your own mail. This time you’ve got Joel’s. You walk it over to Joel’s house with the intention of dropping it off on his porch and going back home, not wanting to bother him as he works on his Chevy but his whistle startles you. “Hey you,” he says. “C’mere.”
“O-oh,” you stutter. “I’m just dropping off your–”
“Yeah, I know. Just c’mere a minute,” Joel says. “Got a fuckin’ bone t’pick with you.”
Your palms are beginning to sweat. He doesn’t know anything. Maybe he just wants some company while he works on his car, it wouldn’t be the first time. But still, there’s something about his tone. You step off of his porch and cut through his lawn to get to his garage. Once inside, you help yourself to a root beer from his refrigerator. Something cold and fizzy and sweet to help you calm your nerves.“Oh, sure, help yourself,” Joel mumbles. He notices your fingers slipping off the tab of the pop can and pulls it from your hands, then opens it for you. He’s wearing a stained Prince and the Revolution t-shirt and a slightly too tight pair of jeans that squeeze his ass just so. His garage is decorated with old license plates, posters, other odds and ends. 
“Thank you,” you whisper. 
Joel says nothing as he walks to his work bench. He pulls a lightbulb out of a cardboard box and waves it in your direction, he’s only a couple of feet from you. “Ordered the wrong bulb,” he tells you. 
You can only nod. You think about maybe making a joke about the mailman screwing it up somehow, but you bite your tongue. You don’t trust yourself not to stutter right now.
“M’sure you saw, my baby here’s all banged up,” Joel puts the bulb back in the box and leans against his work bench, facing you. “Happened a couple weeks ago.”
“Mm,” you hum.
“Hit and run, can you believe that?” 
“No, I can’t. That-that’s terrible.”
“I know it is. And here I thought we had a nice neighborhood…” he trails off before speaking again, “You think you know someone, huh.” 
Someone. So he has someone in mind? “Yeah, it’s terrible…what happened to your car. Can’t believe someone would uh…would do that, knowing how you, your car…yeah. Terrible.”
Joel stares at you for a minute before speaking again, taking note of how you can’t seem to hold eye contact with him. He steps closer to you.
“You wouldn’t know a thing about it, right?”
“Yes,” you answer, quickly realizing your word mishap when Joel raises his eyebrows. “No, yeah. I don’t know–yeah, nothing,” you sip your root beer before fidgeting with the pop tab and shifting your weight from one foot to the other. 
Joel notices. “Squirmin’ an awful lot over there, sweetheart. You got something you wanna tell me?” You shake your head, still playing with the tab on the pop can. Joel removes it from your hand, his fingers gracing over yours before placing it on the workbench. He’s moving closer to you now, matching your pace as you walk backward until the back of your legs hit his car. You gasp, he stands so tall and imposing in front of you. “Easy,” he warns. “You be careful with her.”
“Yeah, I know. Always,” you reply. Your voice is beginning to shake. 
Joel hums at your response. “Not always, though, sweetheart. Think you were pretty careless with my baby a couple weeks ago.” 
The familiar pressure behind your eyes is beginning to build as tears are pricking your waterline, “I don’t know what–”
“Awh, don’t do that. Don’t lie t’me.” 
 The tears spill over. You’re caught. You don’t know how Joel figured out what you did, but he did. “You’ve got a guilty conscience, dontcha?”
You nod before you can speak. “I’m so sorry,” you cry. Sobs begin to wrack your body, your tears now flowing freely. You’re so guilty. You should’ve told Joel what happened that night. It was an accident, and he might’ve been mad, but you’ve probably made it worse for yourself with your dishonesty. “I’m so sorry, Joel, it was late and I was so tired–”
Joel pulls you in a tight embrace, stroking your back with his fingertips. “Shhh, I know. I know,” he whispers in your ear,  “S’okay, sweet girl.” 
“It was so…” you try to explain, choking on your sobs and your sniffles. “So late and d-dark and I wasn’t paying attention.”
“I know. Quit your cryin’, s’gonna be fine,” Joel whispers. He pulls away from you, looking at you with those deep brown eyes of his as he wipes the tears from your face with his thumbs. Know you’ll make it up to me.”
“I will,” you agree quickly. “I’ll pick up some more shifts, Joel, and I’ll save and–”
“Oh, no. Not that. Save your money,” he tells you earnestly. “Somethin’ else,” Your eyes follow Joel when he leaves you for a moment to flip a switch on the wall of his garage. Something in the air changes then, a thick, heavy feeling between you both when he makes his way back to you. “Use your head, sweetheart. How are we gonna make it right?”
Your mouth is dry, your tongue swollen as you pick up what Joel’s putting down. “Let me give ya a hint,” Joel grunts, sucking in his gut slightly as he unbuttons his jeans. He wears no underwear, a thatch of coarse hair littering his skin is what you see when he pulls down his zipper. He grips your wrist and shoves your hand beneath the denim where you feel his package, already half hard. It’s warmer, thicker than you would expect. He feels heavy in your palm, his pubic hair wiry and scratchy against your knuckles. 
He doesn’t tilt his head in confusion at your hesitancy. “Don’t know what to do with all this, do ya?”
You shake your head no. “I’ve never…with anyone, before.”
“S’alright. I’ll walk ya through it all,” Joel says, seemingly unsurprised at the revelation. With your hand still on his cock, Joel pulls himself out of his jeans entirely. He’s harder now. “Like this,” he instructs, bringing your hand to his mouth and spitting in it. A pang of arousal fills your gut at the action. He pushes your hand lower and guides you to wrap your hand around his cock. It feels heavy, warm to the touch, sticky with his sweat and his saliva. Rock hard, but smooth like satin. You admire him, his blushed tip, the prominent veins on his shaft. 
Your breath hitches as Joel takes control, using his strong, weathered hand to guide your own to massage his cock. “You got it,” he encourages, sensing your rigidity. “Tighter,” he instructs, squeezing his hand around yours. You’re slow to gain confidence but he’s patient, doing the work himself for now. “You move your hand all the way up, all the way down my cock,” he tells you. 
You nod in understanding. Joel drops his hand but yours stays stroking his member. He sighs and tilts his head backward as you focus on the task at hand. Without the pressure of intense eye contact, you take the opportunity to admire him, the way his Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows, the small drops of sweat rolling down his throat. You’re shy when he smiles at you, quickly averting your attention from him and to his cock, watching the way it twitches beneath your hand, where a little bead of precum forms. Experimentally, you swipe your thumb over the tip. “That’s it,” he whispers, stroking your cheek with the back of his hand. He ruts his hips into your hips, “Doin’ just fine.”
You stroke his cock like this for a while, gaining confidence in yourself until he stops you suddenly.
 “Is that it?” 
“Is that it,” Joel mocks with a feigned pout. “No, hon. You banged up my baby pretty good. We ain’t quite square yet.”
His leaking cock bounces against his tummy as he approaches his work bench. Your heart pounds as you can’t quite see what he’s reaching for. “Know it’s new to ya,” he says.  “Just listen to me, s’all you gotta do.”
Joel returns to you with a dirty rag in his hand and lays it on the concrete ground, then reaches for your face. He pulls your bottom lip down and lets it go to watch it bounce back up. “Knees,” he whispers, gently pushing you by your shoulders to the ground. The rag he laid on the concrete for your knees is a sweet touch, all things considered. His cock is inches away from your face as he holds it between his thumb, middle, and forefingers. He presses himself to your lips, encouraging you to open your mouth. “Give it a taste,” he instructs you. “An’ you can kiss it too, if you’re feelin’ amorous.” 
You part your lips and tentatively lick the weeping slit of his thick head just once. After a moment, taking in the saltiness of his precome, you lick him a couple more times, gaining confidence quicker than you did using just your spit soaked hand on him. Bigger stripes now, using more pressure. Like Joel advised, you kiss his cock a couple times, each kiss sloppier than the last before swirling your tongue around the tip. You’re learning it all, the softness of his skin, his musky, heady taste. 
“Give me your hand,” Joel says. “Goes right here,” He wraps your hand around the base of his cock, same as before. He places one of his hands on your head, guiding you closer to him, encouraging you to take him deeper now. You do as such, sputtering and choking when you get overzealous and take him too quickly.
Joel chuckles, “Not all at once, sweetheart. Go slow. Try it again.” This time, Joel controls the pace at which you take him. He pushes himself into your mouth and senses when it becomes too much, pauses for you. He pulls his hips back, then rocks back into your mouth, building a slow, shallow pace for you to get used to. 
He’s pushing his cock deeper into your mouth. His tip teases the back of your throat as he whispers, “Little more. Be brave,” You gaze up at him, searching his eyes for some sort of approval. He nods with his brows furrowed. “Do it for me, hon.”
You allow him to fuck himself deeper in your mouth now, your eyes pricking with tears as you gag and sputter on his cock. This time, Joel doesn’t stop himself. He’s grunting, groaning, savoring the warmth of your wet, soft mouth. “So good,” he tells you before tapping your hand, reminding you to put it to use.
What you can’t reach with your mouth, you massage with your hand as you cup his balls with your other. You and Joel work in tandem, him drawing in and out of your mouth as you bob your head and flick your tongue against his shaft. Your jaw is sore with the newness of it all, and just as you’re becoming used to the thickness of his cock between your lips and on your tongue, he pauses. “M’gonna stop you now,” Joel mumbles as he pulls out of your mouth, his eyes focused on your swollen lips and how the string of saliva connected from them to his cock breaks. “S’your turn.”
“My turn?”
“Mhm. It’s etiquette, hon,” Joel says with a grunt, lifting you to your feet. He reaches between your bodies and unbuttons your pants, pushing both them and your underwear down your legs. “Always return the favor.” Joel lifts you slightly, sitting your bare ass on the hood of his car, then pulls your pants off your legs the rest of the way. “Arms up,” he tells you. He lifts your shirt off of your body, unhooks your bra and lets it fall to your lap. You’ve never been so vulnerable, so exposed in front of someone before.  Instinctively, you cover your chest with your arms and cross your legs. 
“You’re shy,” he whispers. Joel drapes your clothing over his shoulder before reaching for your arms, removing them from your chest and placing them on either side of your body. “Stay like this,” He holds your knees next, uncrossing your legs and spreading them wide for his view. 
Joel takes in your body and admires your wet cunt, how your thick curls frame it beautifully. A shiver goes down your spine as his eyes scan the rest of your body before he holds intense eye contact with you as he folds your clothes, placing them in a neat pile next to you on his car. You watch his chest rise and fall with steady breaths as he drops to his knees, situating himself between your thighs.
He presses a sloppy kiss against your inner knee, then another on your other leg. He kisses his way up your inner thigh, nipping at your flesh and soothing the marks with his tongue. He holds your legs firmly apart, knowing your instinct is to shut them when he reaches your cunt, his hot breath fanning over your center. “Wider,” he whispers, “I gotcha.”
The once cool metal of Joel’s car is now hot and slick under your sweaty, trembling palms. Your pulse beats as you look up at the garage ceiling, lacking the courage to look at Joel between your thighs. “Relax for me,” he tells you. You try. 
You gasp when he finally begins exploring you, first his thumb parting open your folds. Adding a couple more digits, he hums in satisfaction as he finds you’re already wet, your slick glistening on his fingers. He dips one of those fingers inside of you slowly, watching how you react to his touch. You twitch and fight to keep yourself still and silent as he adds a second finger, curling it rhythmically and stroking that sweet spot inside you. 
“Oh, god,” you moan as he dives into your cunt, the soft and warm, private place between your thighs, his mouth now joining where his fingers touch. His tongue is hot and wet as he drags it through your sex, circling your clit with it. “Joel, please.”
Joel’s satisfied as he hears sounds of pleasure fall from your lips, feeling your hips bucking and grinding gently against his mouth. He sucks one fold, nips at the other as he curls his fingers inside you rhythmically. With the hand that’s not teasing your pussy, he digs his fingers into the soft flesh of your thigh. “Quit squirmin’ on my car,” he warns with a firm squeeze to your thigh, hard enough to bruise you. “Ya tryin’ to scratch her again?”
His wiry stubble drags across your skin, scratching gently against the inside of your thighs. You can feel it building up quickly, that hot, sparkling feeling deep in your core as he works you, sucks your clit between his lips. 
“Please,” you cry, the only word you can form at the moment. 
“I know, hon,” he murmurs, escalating his efforts on your pussy. Sucking, licking, curling his fingers harder. He works you through your orgasm, feeling you gush against his mouth, your arousal dripping down his fingers and pooling into the palm of his hand. Your hands fly to his scalp, twitching and jerking from the sensitivity with your fingers tugging on his curls when he licks a stripe up the seam of your cunt. 
Joel pulls away from your center with a satisfied grin, lips shiny, his facial hair damp. He rises, standing above you, and sloppily kisses your lips. You’ve never tasted your own arousal before. His strong hands find your ass cheeks, pulling you closer to where he wants you.
From there, you gasp when he slides his cock through your slick folds, rubbing thick head against your sensitive clit and watches how you react to his touch. “What do you think I’m doin’ to ya next?”
“Joel,” you whimper, your hips chasing his movements, following where his cock teases your cunt. 
“Yeah, you know what I’m doin,” he purrs. “Crossin’ it all off your list tonight.”
You tense when he notches just the head of his cock in your pussy, reaching for his arm, his shoulder, any part of him you can hold. 
“Know you’re nervous,” he says softly, rubbing circles into your thighs. “But s’just me an’ you here. Wider, hon. Spread your legs for me.”
You nod quickly, following suit and spreading your legs to accommodate him. “Like this?”
“Yeah, like that. S’perfect, hon, that’s all I need from you. C’mere,” Joel adjusts his hold on you before inching his cock into you a bit more. You’re so tight, squeezing him hard and whining through the stretch as he pushes into you further, the gradual slide inside your body causing him to grunt quietly. “Relax for me,” he groans through a strained breath, parting your insides as he’s sheathed himself inside you fully now. “Bite me f’ya need to, sweetheart. It’ll be okay. You’ll get used to it.”
It aches, but the pain dulls as Joel lets you get used to the feeling, the newness of his cock inside you. He holds you close and you take advantage of his suggestion, biting softly into the flesh of his neck, tasting the saltiness of his skin as you whimper quietly. Joel groans, his eyebrows furrowing together. “Shh,” he hushes, “You’re okay, hon. You’re doin’ alright.”
Joel slowly pulls out of you and fills you up again. “That’s it, sweetheart,” he praises as you tilt your hips, opening yourself to accept more of him. You’re humming into his neck as his cock recedes and then pushes in once more. “Eyes on me now. There it is, easy. Easy.”
You do as instructed, pulling your face away from him to meet his gaze. His sparkling brown eyes stay on yours as he pulls out of you, pushing into you slowly, deliberately. You hold onto his neck, his broad shoulders, clutching the fabric of his sweat dampened shirt as he builds a steady pace now. He holds you close to his body, one of his hands traveling up your body and groping your bouncing breasts, teasing your sensitive nipples.
“You just follow my lead,” Joel says, fucking you faster now. His fingers are pressed firmly into your waist now as he rolls his hips against yours. The pain is gone now, dissipated with his continued languid thrusts into you. You feel so full, so satisfied with his thick cock inside you, massaging your insides.
He fucks you steadily but gently, maintaining a quick rhythm. You didn’t know sex could make you feel this way, so much pleasure.  You’re moaning freely, overwhelmed with emotion, tears flowing freely down your cheeks. God, you love it, and it’s nothing but pure pleasure. 
Joel’s not oblivious to your enjoyment. He’s watching you, your face contorting, he’s listening to your moans and your cries, feeling you shiver and twitch beneath his touch and how it’s all because of him, all of your pleasure at the hands of Joel and only ever Joel. He feels a sort of carnal sense of power over this, the effect his touch has on you. You’re soft, so soft and all for him, your flesh for his hands and his teeth alone to squeeze, dig into, to bite on. 
You reach for his arm and guide his hand to your center, pressing his fingers against your clit as that familiar tightness in your gut begins to build once more. “Please,” you beg. 
“Thought this was supposed to be a deal for me. Didn’t need to hit my car f’ya needed me like this,” he taunts, laughing breathlessly. But Joel obliges, of course he obliges you. He moves his calloused fingertips in circles over your clit, coaxing out your release. “Takin’ me so good, sweetheart. Look at you, m’gonna make you come again. Makin’ out like a fuckin’ bandit, aren’t you?”
Indeed you are. It’s not long before you’re coming for him. With his ministrations on your clit, his thrusts now faster, harder, deeper, you’re coming undone for him as his name pours from your lips, long and slow like honey. With your lips parted open, you’re twitching and shuddering against him as you watch his face, letting yourself go. You whimper and moan, and your release is volcanic in the way it washes over your body so fiercely. Heavy, vivid waves of pleasure washing over you the way lava rolls down the earth. Slow, fiery, intense.
Your pulsing cunt milks Joel’s own climax, his orgasm crashing through him in such a way that he loses focus on you. His eyes screwed shut, the noises he’s making louder than he intended–what starts as a grunt turns into a moan, long and libertine as he fucks you harder than he probably should as you whimper in overstimulation. His thrusts turn harder and frenzied as he milks himself with your cunt, spurting hot ropes of his come inside you. You take everything he gives you, feeling so warm and full of his spend. 
His movements then begin to ease, slowing down some more until he eventually stills inside of you. He takes the quiet moment to check on you, holding your face in his hands as he makes sure you’re okay. Your chest heaves as he wipes your tears, but you silently nod, reassuring him that you’re alright.
With a soft grunt, he pulls out of you. He watches how your combined arousal spills on the baby blue paint of his Chevelle, then uses his thumb to push a bit of his escaped come back inside you. Such a lewd action from the man. 
Joel helps you to your feet, steadying you as you stand on shaky legs. He reaches for your clothes from the hood of his car, helping you dress yourself. “Didn’t want ‘em to get dirty,” he explains. “Everything’s covered in fuckin’ dirt and grease in here.”
“Thank you,” you smile shyly. Joel opens the garage door, the once peachy and blue sky now inky black. You didn’t realize how much time had passed. You take off back to your house, but Joel grips your bicep before you can step any further. 
 “Nuh uh,” he tuts. “Ya already hit my car, hon, you don’t wanna leave your mess on the hood now too, do ya?” Joel gestures to your combined arousal on the hood of his Chevelle, swipes his pointer finger through the mess and pushes it between your lips. Your brows furrow at the taste, that salty, heady flavor you’ve never tasted before now. “Use your tongue, sweetheart.”
“You want me…”
“Lick it up,” he instructs in a quiet voice. Joel figured he might’ve let you off too easy, seeing as how you came twice–once on his tongue and once on his cock when this was all supposed to be for him. He bends you over the hood of his car, groping your ass as he leans over your shoulder to inspect your work, making sure it’s a job well done. “Good girl,” he praises, watching you lick his car clean. When you’re done, he kisses you softly.
He walks you home, dropping you off on your doorstep. You’re not quite sure what to say, whether you should apologize again, thank him, say goodnight. Joel fills the silence for you. “Gonna teach you how to drive right one of these days. Keep you out of another mess like this one, hm?” he smirks as he kisses your cheek. “Goodnight, hon.”
If you enjoyed, please reblog, leave me a comment, and/or send an ask 🩷 your words mean the world to me and your interaction keeps me motivated to write. Love you all <3
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From now on I’ll be sharing cat pics at the end of my fics. Hope you don’t mind 🐈‍⬛😻
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studioghibelli · 4 months
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always yours- a joel miller x reader
summary: joel has carried guilt with him his entire life, especially after losing you many years ago. you were young and naive, and joel was cold and distant, a match that simply wasn’t meant to be. (so he thought.) when he and ellie finally make it to wyoming, he’s in for the surprise of a lifetime.
warnings: joel pov for a bit, pining, so so much pining, ellie and joel dynamics, a lot of angst, various flashbacks throughout the story, guilt is one of the main themes of this piece of writing, a rather large age gap that is the center of joel’s guilt, a very brief mention of joel having sex with another woman (tess), post outbreak, and of course- smut. (allusion to m receiving oral, brief female masturbation, unprotected sex, cream pie, f receiving oral, some dirty talk.) mdni
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The smell of pine swirled lazily in the air, the promise of a fresh snowstorm making its way through the tree line like the wafting scent of slow baking cookies. The white ground crunched beneath Joel’s leather boots, imprinting the shadow of their soles into the thick wintered earth. With each step his bones ached, shoulders heavy with the fate of the world.
Behind him, a figure trucked lazily behind, giggles occasionally filling his ears.
“What’re you up to back there?”
“Hey, hey. Check this one out, Joel. Why did the can crusher quit his job?” There was a long moment of silence. “Because it was….. soda pressing. Ha! Get it?” Ellie jogged closer to Joel, nudging him with her elbow. “Do you- do you get it, Joel?”
A heavy grunt escaped the man. “Yeah, I get it.” A tooth pick hung loosely from his lips as he glanced down at the girl, a slow roll of his eyes following.
“Want to hear some more?”
“I’d rather not.”
“Okay. Okay… that’s fine.” Ellie cleared her throat, humming as she took in the world around her. “I do have something on my mind. Something real heavy.”
Joel looked at her, his eyes glossed over with a hint of concern. “What is it?”
“Last week I….I-” Ellie paused, sniffling a bit, feigning a look of guilt. “Last week I called someone a watering hole, but I swear I meant well!”
Joel stopped, his jaw clenching momentarily before he met the gaze of Ellie who, in the midst of her terrible joke, was choking back a roar of laughter. He sighed out, shoulder slacking, before giving in to the chuckle stuck in his throat.
“Okay, okay. That wasn’t half bad, I’ll give you that.”
“You’re laughing! I made you laugh! I know you liked that one.”
“I did. Don’t know what’s wrong with me.” Joel shook his head with the hint of a grin teasing against his mouth. “Now quit with the shitty jokes, alright? You’ll miss the scenery.”
Ellie saluted him sternly, giving him a thick nod. “Aye, aye, Captain!” She declared.
Joel sucked in a thick breath.
You were staring at him, with your big, beautiful eyes, gnawing on a stale, unseasoned piece of venison jerky. The flickering flames of the campfire in front of you illuminated your face with glimmering sheens of orange, blanketing the hue of your skin with crimson and gold. A sunset, personified.
He stared at you, long and hard, analyzing every inch of you, taking in your beauty. He wanted to drown in it. The softness of you lips, the apples of your cheeks, the bridge of your nose. Joel wondered how smooth your skin was, how the curve of your waist would feel against his calloused palms, how the heat of your breath would feel fanning against his throat. His eyes dragged down to your small hands, eyeing your manicured nails. What shape would they imprint upon his skin?
“Who the fuck made this shit, Joel?” You guffawed, rubbing your eye with your free fist. “I hate jerky. Tired of it!”
“Well, you’ve just never had good jerky. Before the end times, we had lots of good brands. Jack Link was pretty popular. Was my favorite.” Joel looked at you, a stray curl falling against his forehead as he set the paper bag down. “Ever heard of them?”
“No. Never. When…. all this happened, I was too young to remember. I’ve got no memories from that time, honestly.”
It was a simple statement. One that shouldn’t have made Joel’s stomach clench and turn. Yet it reminded him. It reminded him of his age, of your youth, your naïveté. His chest tightened with the deep feeling of wrongness, the bitter taste of guilt like bile in the back of his throat.
“Don’t, uh, don’t remind me.” Joel mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck.
You, none the wiser to the war raging on in his mind, laughed sweetly, saluting him lazily as you finished the last of your venison jerky. “Aye, aye, captain!”
“Hey.”
“Hey!”
“Heyyyy!”
Joel’s neck snapped towards the noise, where Ellie stood still, leaning against the thick trunk of a pine tree. “Huh?”
“Dude, you were just standing there. Like a fuckin’ statue. You okay? I thought you were dying.”
Joel rubbed a scruffy cheek, the thick bristles of hair irritating his fingers as he stared into the distance, taking in a deep breath before resuming his walking. “I’m fine. Let’s jus’ keep goin’, onwards and upwards. Should be there in a day or so.”
“Whatever you say, man.” Ellie kicked a stray pebble in front of her, jogging every so often to meet the long strides of Joel.
In front of her, Joel was lost in deep thought.
He felt the ache of remorse tugging at his heart. A reminder it still worked. A reminder he was still human, still alive and breathing. A human, a man, who hoped and yearned and craved and cried. A man who loved. This remorse, this pain, this guilt, that had corroded away at his soul piece by piece, kept him stable and nailed to the ground. It was a nudge towards the idea that perhaps after all these years of killing, after the taste of blood and haze of destruction, perhaps his heart was still capable of something good, something right.
Joel thought he was right, when he did what he did. Even with the tsunami of tears threatening your eyes, even with the quivering of your lip, the tight furrow of your brows, the embarrassment on your face- even with the sheer look of pain and betrayal that you wore like a masquerade mask- Joel felt that what he did was for the best. That the line in the sand he carved with his own bare hands would help you in the end.
“Don’t look at me like that.” Joel warned, pointing a finger at you. “Don’t look at me like that, girl.”
“Why?” There was a shrill crack to your syllables, a dejected figure emerging from the shadows of your mouth. “Does it make you feel bad? Am I hurting your feelings?”
“This is worse enough as is. I don’t need you flashin’ them puppy dog eyes at me. Ain’t gonna change a thing.”
“So you just used me. Fucked my mouth until you got what you wanted. And now what, Miller? Now what? Gonna ignore me? Gonna start doin’ runs with Tess again like there was nothing between us?” Venom dripped from your incisors as you took a step towards him. Your tears, your sadness, the heavy weight of your heart had been replaced with rage. Burning hot rage. It consumed you until it was oozing from you, spilling from your eyes, your mouth, your nostrils. It was you.
“Yeah. That’s what I’m goin’ to do. ‘Cause you’re right, kid. There wasn’t shit between us.”
Ellie’s humming brought him back to reality, clearing his mind of any thoughts, before she broke the silence with a dreadful question:
“Did you ever have any girlfriends, back at the QZ in Boston?”
“Told you not to ask me any questions like that.”
“I know, I know. But it seems like things with you and…. with you and Tess were weird. I remember what she said, how she never asked you to feel what she felt.” Ellie cleared her throat, gripping ahold of the straps on her backpack. “But, you know, it got me thinking. If someone as cool as Tess liked an old fart like you, some other chicks would have had to, too. Right?”
Joel sighed a deep, tired sigh, rubbing at his temples. “Me and Tess…. we weren’t. We- just. No. Tess and I, there was nothing there.”
Ellie held her hands up in defense. “Okay, okay. Geez, no need to throw a bitch fit, asshole.”
“Watch it.” He grumbled, adjusting the strap of his rifle. “But there was one girl.”
“Really? What was she like? What was her name? What did she look like?”
“Slow down, Ellie, slow down. Way too many questions. I’ll answer one. One! So pick wisely.”
Ellie walked in silence for a moment, rubbing her cheeks in thought as though she had a beard. She nodded with a sense of finality, catching up with Joel’s long strides. “Why did you like her?”
Why did Joel like you? Why did he love you? What was so special about you that Joel, a man concrete in his stoicism, a man lost in his own selfish, distant ways, could crumble at the sheer thought of you? What was so special about your sparkling eyes that made his chest pound? What was so special about your soft voice that made his jaw slack? What was so special about your gentle touch that made his body shiver?
How could a giant such as Joel Miller come crashing down at the feet of someone like you? Someone so pure, so happy, so kind and thoughtful? How could Joel have ever let something like that happen? How could he have been such a fool?
“Hello? Earth to Joel.” Ellie waved her hand in front of Joel’s face, eliciting a groan.
“Um…” He scratched at his chin.
“When I was a little girl all I wanted, the one thing that mattered most to me in the world, was to go to the zoo. My momma used to tell me all these stories. How you could touch the stingrays, feed the giraffes… But you know what I want to see most of all? The gorillas.”
Joel was staring out the window, keeping watch as you shuffled through the drawers of the abandoned room, looking for extra stuff that could be worth smuggling. His eyes scanned the road, but he was mostly interested in listening to you. Quickly and slyly he turned to look at you.
He saw the glimmer glistening through your gaze, the smile lines crinkling ever so slightly at the corners of your eyes as your pretty lips turned up into a big grin. Your face was aglow with passion, your heart pinned proudly to your sleeve. You were the exact opposite of him when it came to that, it only drew him closer, like a moth to a flame.
“The zoo? I went to the zoo. Took my daughter all the time to the one in Austin. Never saw a gorilla though, not up close. Just on the Animal Planet.”
“Animal Planet?”
And there it was, that familiar twinge of guilt. “Yeah. It was a TV Channel.” Joel explained with a grimace, his voice soft and quiet. “You, uh, you find anything good yet?”
“Nah. Just a half empty box of condoms and some bandaids.”
“Condoms? We could use those.” Joel explained, turning to you quickly.
A look of surprise crept on to your face. You hoped you hid the butterflies erupting in your stomach well enough. Surely it was a slip of tongue, you thought- Joel was never forward like that.
Realization soon dawned on his face when his words finally settled in. “Not….. not us, I mean. For- for trading. Could get some ration cards. The, I mean- I would never be…. I- Uh.” A guttural noise of defeat escaped him as he slumped into the wall, groaning deeply against the palms of his hands that his face was now buried in. “Forget I said anything.” Joel seethed through gritted teeth.
“You sure do have a way with words, cowboy.” You teased. A beautiful laugh, one that haunted Joel, escaped your chest as you threw the box of condoms towards him. “There you go, lover boy.”
“Her laugh.” Joel finally broke the silence, his eyes secured to the track in front of him. “She was always laughing. Real happy, curious, always day dreaming. She was….”
“The exact opposite of you.” Ellie filled in, laughing to herself. “Man, she sounds great. And she liked you back?”
“I said one question a day.”
“But-”
“No buts. You can ask another one tomorrow.”
“Well, can you at least tell me her name?”
Before Joel could stop himself, the syllables of your name rolled from his tongue. He hadn’t spoken it out loud in years. He promised himself he wouldn’t, not after losing you. But it escaped him quicker than he could stop it, like a dog running from its cage, sniffing its way to freedom.
Ellie repeated it to herself. “That’s real pretty.” She hummed in approval, and Joel continued walking, his eyes stirring with the burning hot threat of tears.
Angry, regretful, bitter tears.
“Have you seen her anywhere?” Joel was pacing his room, frantically throwing supplies on to the bed. “Did she- did she say anything? Where she was going? What she was doing?”
“Joel.” Tess’ voice rang through the air. “Joel.”
“What? I need to get to her, God dammit.”
“She’s gone, Joel. Said she left four days ago. You won’t be able to find her.” Tess rested a hand on his shoulder as she sat down on the edge of the mattress, looking up at the disheveled, broken man before her.
“This is all my fault.” A single sob racked through his body as he fell down beside her. “Putting a gun to her head and pulling the trigger would have been the exact same thing. She’ll die out there, Tess.” Joel buried his face in his hands as he fell back, jaw clenching in unison with his flaring nostrils as he sat and stewed in the crashing waves of resentment. “She’s going to die, and I won’t be there to protect her.”
Teas traced her hand down the broadness of Joel’s back, taking in a sharp breath. “You’re right. Better move on now, we have work to do. If you’re going to get over it someday, you might as well do it now.” If there was one thing Tess wasn’t going to do, it was sugar coat things. Especially not for Joel fucking Miller. “So get up, stop crying, and do your fucking job. You got it?”
That night Joel drunkenly fucked Tess with her face in the pillow and ass in the air, and the whole time he imagined it was you.
Dusk was soon approaching by the time Joel had rolled out his and Ellie’s sleeping bags. The canvas of the sunset was being torn apart by sparkling stars, the moon illuminating the snow covered trees surrounding them. It was a quiet, peaceful night, shrouded with the sort of yearning and hope that only came once the sun set.
“Can we start a fire? Please, Joel?” Ellie was shivering beneath her sleeping bag, pulling her jacket tighter to her chest.
“Use my bag. I’ll take watch while you sleep.”
“We’ve been walking for like, a hundred hours. You need sleep too. Nobody will find us here. We’re in the middle of butt fuck nowhere.”
“You don’t know that. Now take my bag or stop whining.” Joel’s voice was gruff as he sat against the tree, the light of the lantern illuminating the hardness of his face.
“Okay, geez. Don’t have to be an asshole.”
“Go to sleep, Ellie.”
Joel hadn’t meant to fall asleep. He never liked sleeping, for many different reasons. The lack of control, the possibility of danger, the lurking nightmares about his past. But most of all, he hated sleeping because they brought him dreams of you.
In the beginning, when he had you, dreams of your body, or your face, of your voice- they were all welcomed. He would wake up in his mattress, bathing like a cat in the golden rays of sunshine, and would go about his day slightly less grumpy. Not a changed man, by any means, but how could a man be completely cold and detached after a visit from an angel?
But now these dreams were different. He would wake, not quite remembering them in their entirety, but always feeling the heavy burden of loss thick in his mouth, like phlegm during a nasty cold. For the rest of the day he would think of you, unable to shake the memory of your face away from his mind. You had branded him like a cow at the slaughterhouse.
Joel knew he was yours forever, always yours, despite the pitter pattering footsteps of guilt that followed him around like a needy child.
Tonight, he dreamed of his past memories with you.
“Oh, this is a good one.” Joel hummed out as he turned the record player up ever so slightly. “This is Nat King Cole. My mom used to play his stuff while she was cookin’.”
Sometimes I wonder how I spend the lonely night,
Dreaming of a song. The melody, haunts my reverie,
And I am once again with you, when our love was new.
“He’s got a nice voice.” You quipped. You swung your legs off the desk, walking towards him before extending your hand.
He looked at you like you were crazy. “What’re you doin’?”
“Dance with me.”
“Dancin’ is a dangerous game. I ain’t no good at it.”
“That doesn’t matter. Come on. Just dance with me, cowboy!” Your giggles ignited the air with sparks of comfort, warming Joel’s body through with the familiar pang of affection he so often suffered from when he was around you. He thought on it for a moment before letting out a long sigh.
“Fine. But if you tell anyone about this I’ll… I’ll…”
“You’ll what? Spank me? Come on, just live a little. If it was actually the end of the world none of us would be here. So be alive and human with me tonight, and dance.”
Joel stood, looking down at you as his hands found your body. He rested one palm against the small dip of your waist, his other finding your hand, quickly engulfing it, wrapping around your fingers like a blanket. You swayed, barely shuffling your feet, a smile of contentment washing across your face.
“See?” You hummed. “This is nice.”
He stayed silent, swaying with you to the crooning voice of Nat King Cole. Joel sucked in a sharp breath as your cheek rested against his chest. He ran his hand down to the small of your back, instinctively pulling you closer.
And now my consolation is in the stardust of a song,
Besides the garden wall when stars are bright,
You are in my arms, a paradise where roses grew
Though I dream in vain…
“Joel?” You whispered, craning your neck to look up at him.
His eyelids fluttered open, lips parting ever so softly as his eyes met yours. Chocolate irises, flashes of gold glittering within them, drunk every inch of your face up, memorizing you as thought it was the last time he’d ever see you. “Hmm?”
“Will you kiss me?” The question escaped you before you could think, your eyes slightly widening at the boldness which preceded you.
Joel stopped swaying. He looked down at you, a thumb slowly tracing across your cheekbone.
“I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me. I- I wasn’t thinking.” Your face was hot with embarrassment, and your hand on his shoulder quickly dropped.
Joel remained quiet as he gently grabbed your fallen hand, moving it back to his shoulder, up towards his face, until you were cupping his cheek. “You really want me to?” He asked softly, curiously, his thumb gently running across your lower lip. You nodded without hesitation.
He leaned forward, the curve of his nose brushing against the tip of yours as he moved both of his hands to hold your face, eyes open and staring in to yours, as though he were trying to make his way through your soul. A stabbing breath hitched in the back of your throat as you gently pressed your body to his, lips mere centimeters away.
“Joel…” You whispered softly.
He paused right before your mouth, eyes now full of remorse, wide and guilty like a petulant child who had just been caught red handed. When he spoke, you felt his moustache tickle your cupid’s bow.
“I… I can’t. I can’t do it.”
“Do you not like me?”
“That’s not the issue, darlin’. It’s the… opposite of that, actually. But I just- I… I gotta go. I’ll stop by tomorrow with some more ration cards.” Joel pulled away from your body, rushing to the door.
“Joel, wait. Joel!” But before you could stop him, he had already left. Your heard his footsteps soon disappear, left with nothing but the scratching vinyl.
In my heart, it will remain
My stardust melody
The memory of love’s refrain.
Joel awoke with a violent jerk, to the bitter smell of coffee and the bright warning of morning light.
“Wakey, wakey sleepy head. Made you some coffee!” Ellie smiled at Joel as she dug her heels into the dying fire, handing Joel the metal cup of brown liquid.
“I told you no fires, Ellie. Someone could see us.”
“It’s fine. It’ll be okay. And if anyone comes and tries to hurt us, I’ll use my super slick Ninja skills I learned on ‘em! Promise! Now drink your nasty bean juice and let’s get going.” Ellie rolled up the sleeping bags as Joel stared into space, sipping his coffee before dumping the rest of it out.
“How long was I out for?”
Ellie shrugged, walking beside him as they made their way towards the open valley. “No clue. But you were muttering to yourself. Woke me up.”
“Was I? Mutterin’ what?”
Ellie looked at him, a small, sad smile playing on her mouth. When she said your name, his stomach turned. That beautiful name. That terrible, awful name that haunted him at every corner. It crept through his mind like a ghost, in and out of the hallway of his memories, refusing to ever leave.
“Weird.” Joel finally said, after a long, thick, uncomfortable silence. “Let’s…. let’s head out now.”
An hour or so had passed, hiking through the forest towards the open valley, before Ellie realized Joel had been whistling. She had never heard him whistle before. And, like always, her curiosity got the better of her.
“What is that?” She asked.
“What’s what?” Joel answered, looking around to try and pin down what she was talking about.
“The song you’re whistling. What is it? I like it.”
“Oh.” Joel hadn’t noticed he had been making any noise. “It’s called Stardust. An old song, before my time even.”
“Who’s it by?”
“There are a few renditions, I can’t remember who did it first. My favorite version was by Nat King Cole.” Joel explained, clearing a makeshift path through the jutting branches and scratching leaves.
“I’ve got my one question, you know.” Ellie stated with a wiggle of her eyebrows. “About her.”
“M’kay. Make it quick.” His voice grumbled out lowly like an over worked furnace, eyebrows tight together as he walked ahead of her.
“Where’d she go?” Ellie finally mustered up the courage to ask the question, slowly looking at Joel’s back. She noticed how it stiffened at the question, and for a moment she regretted ever asking anything.
But Joel’s voice was uncharacteristically soft. “What do you mean?” He finally choked out, clearing his throat.
“Like, if you liked her so bad, why isn’t she with us? You’ve protected me all this way. I-… I can’t imagine the lengths you would go for someone you actually liked.” Ellie joked, trying to lighten the air, the air which had suddenly grown so chewable, so thick and stuffy.
“I don’t hate you, kid.” Joel mumbled, rubbing at his face. “She, uh, she left. While I was out doin’ a run with Tess. Just up and vanished. No note, no nothin’.”
Ellie could feel the pain radiating from Joel, although she couldn’t quite pin point it in his words. He was good at hiding things like that. You don’t spend months with a person and not pick up their habits.
“How long ago was that?” She asked quietly, softly.
“‘Bout three years before I met you.”
“That’s a long time.”
“Yeah.” Joel muttered. “Now, no more questions until tomorrow.”
“Okay.” Ellie grumbled, watching her feet as she walked.
“Joel!” His name tangled through the air, breathless and wanting. His ear was pressed to the door, hand on the door knob. Waiting. Thinking. Pondering.
Your legs were spread open, jeans halfway down your legs, panties to the side as your middle finger lazily rubbed circles in your clit, your free hand kneading against your exposed breast, chest flushed with the hot hand of want. No. Of need.
You couldn’t get the image out of your head. Slick curls pushed back, lips turned into a scowl, bulging arms chopping at the thick log of wood like it owed him something. You remember the rage swirling in his eyes, dark and angry, knitted brows tight and bold. Why was he so god damn hot when he was livid?
“Oh, God. Fuck.” Your whimpers filled his ears, well- his good ear, at least- and Joel felt his jeans beginning to tighten.
Something overtook Joel. Something primal, something instinctual, because before he had a chance to think, he was barging in to your room, mind empty with thoughts only of you, of your pleasure. You jumped with a squeal of surprise, face coated with embarrassment, grabbing a pillow to try and cover yourself up. It was a fruitless attempt, because Joel still saw exactly what he wanted to see. You.
“Joel! Oh God. Jesus Christ….. how-how much of that did you hear?” You wanted to cry. To deteriorate into a pile of rubble would have been your best option. Anything to not have to deal with his gaze. Stern, unreadable, dark. Your heart was slamming against your chest.
“I heard enough.” He whispered, slowly stepping towards you.
You blinked the forming tears of embarrassment away quickly, propping yourself up better on your elbows, finally garnering the courage to look up at him, right in his eyes. A long, deep, sensual gaze steaming from him.
Joel reached for you hesitantly, his hand gently grabbing your knee. A rough thumb traced circles into your skin, smooth and vanilla scented from the lotion he had smuggled for you on a particularly boring run. He watched the way your skin pricked with goosebumps, the way your leg leaned in to his touch. You wanted this. He knew, looking into your eyes, so soft and tender with desire, that he was the only thing on your mind.
“Please,” you whispered, voice shaking in the dimly lit room. “Please touch me, Joel.”
When he finally gathered the courage to lean forward, when those horrible thoughts of shame that so often plagued him had been pushed to the back of his mind, he heard Tess shouting his name in the distance.
When Joel saw Tommy for the first time in ages, he could barely contain himself. He embraced his little brother, tight and hard, feeling the familiar heat of tears welling in the pits of his eyes.
As dusk soon pulled across the sky, Tommy made sure to tell Joel which house would be his. “House 37! Two lefts and a right.” Tommy reminded him, as he jogged away to meet Maria.
It was only until he reached the movie theatre that Tommy realized he gave Joel the wrong number. Oh well, he thought to himself, Joel will figure it out.
The hot water cascaded down Joel’s back, steam dancing through the air, covering him in a warm blanket, the smell of vanilla body wash filling his nostrils. Vanilla. It reminded him so much of you. Of that night, the night he almost had a taste of you. You were so close, yet still managed to remain just out of reach.
Joel was so preoccupied with his thoughts of you, you, you, that he hadn’t heard the front door downstairs open.
• • •
It had been a particularly long and exhausting day for you. You had been posted a mile south in a rundown factory, keeping watch for Raiders as a group of workers focused their abilities on turning the old building into a new extension of your town.
Maria wanted to turn it in to a greenhouse and new horse stable. With the newest colt in town, Shimmer, she figured horse breeding could be a bright part of their future, and if it grew well and but enough, they could extend further out into the wilderness.
Well, that was Maria’s dream. But you had seen how slow these workers went about their business, how they often broke into fights and managed to forget their tasks entirely. How Maria had ever cultivated this place…. well, that was beyond you.
Your thoughts were full of Joel.
Joel, Joel, Joel.
He was a hard worker. Persistent and tenacious, strong and able, stern and forthright- he was everything you wanted in a man. He was just like the knights you would read about, yet he had a twinge of anti-hero that always enticed you, always pulled you in closer.
Thinking about Joel was always draining. You missed his laugh, gritty and low and never that frequent. You missed his hands, well worked and scarred. You missed his eyes, deep and mysterious and full of something that you could never quite pin point.
After these long day dreams with him at the forefront, it left you craving a life you had never gotten to live with him, a life you had never known.
By the time you reached your house it was dark, and your feet ached from the long trek. You felt much older than you actually were. Taking your boots off, you noticed the hallway light upstairs was on.
“Weird.” You whispered to yourself, ultimately shrugging it off as you switched it off, walking to your room.
The door was shut. Double weird. You lived alone, and almost always forgot to shut your door.
The bathroom door was ajar, and you saw steam swirling out of it, yet the shower was off.
“Okay, what the fuck.” You hissed, reaching for your knife. You had already turned your gun in. Hand to hand combat…. well, that would have to do, even if it wasn’t your strong suit.
Behind the closed door of your master suite, you hear someone opening up drawers. “God dammit, Tommy!” You heard a muffled snarl, and your eyes widened.
You dropped the knife, clattering against the carpet with a faint cling, as you brought your hands to your head. No. No. This wasn’t happening. It couldn’t be him. Surely not.
You rarely spoke to Tommy. You heard he had a brother named Joel here and there, but you never asked. Never gave any part of yourself away. To the people of Jackson City, you were quiet and reserved- kind, always- but haunted by something.
No, by someone.
Your hand was shaking. The metal door knob was cold on your palm, shivers coursing straight down your spine. With a quivering lip, you barely had time to turn the handle before the door flung open, thoughts of self defense and protection miles away.
A figure, huffing with annoyance, stood in front of you. A white shirt stretched taut against a broad chest, sweatpants hanging on a low waist, a bundle of dirty clothes resting in his arm. His arm. His familiar, tanned, muscular arm.
Joel.
Joel. Joel.
The syllable rolled around your brain, head empty as you gathered the courage to slowly look up at the man. His eyes were wide, lips parted in surprise as he stared at you. Both of you stood, in the midst of a proper western stand off, the air stagnant around your bodies.
Neither of you said a word. How could you? What was there to say? You blinked rapidly, rubbing at your eyelids in an attempt to spook the apparition of Joel Miller away. Surely it was a ghost. Perhaps you were finally losing your mind. Perhaps the end of the world had caught up with you.
You went to speak, but a gargled mess of noises were all you could come up with.
Before you had a chance to correct yourself, he had scooped you up in to the tightest hug of your life.
Joel’s left arm was wrapped around your waist, pressing you close to his chest, while his right laid across your back, his large hand pressed into the back of your head. You grasped ahold of him, fingers digging into his skin as you tried to make sense of what was going on.
Before you could catch them, tears were flowing from your eyes, staining his shirt with a puddle of wimpy cries.
“Shh.” He cooed, voice shaking. “I’m right here. I’m here.” Joel held you as though you would vanish if he let go, slowly falling to the floor with you tightly pressed to him. He cradled you in his lap, strong arms secure and steadfast around your body. Joel wasn’t planning on letting go anytime soon.
When you finally looked up, you saw his own cheeks west with the ghosts of previous tears.
“Oh.” You whimpered, touching his face gingerly. “I haven’t seen this face in so long. Look at you.”
“Look at you.” He countered, thumb tracing down the apple of your cheek. “You’ve only grown more beautiful.”
“How… are you…. you’re the Joel Tommy mentioned? How could I have been so stupid.” You whispered, shaking your head.
“How long have you been here?”
“Two years. Managed to find a group of mercs, travelled with them to Kansas City before FEDRA got ahold of them. I was the only one to escape and, somehow, I found myself in this place.” You explained, his face now cupped in your hands.
His lips looked so tantalizing. The thing you wanted most in this world, right in this moment, was for Joel to kiss you. Hard. Deep. Passionately.
Joel looked down at you. He knew that look. Knew those emotions in your eyes, knew the way you looked when desire overtook your being.
He was so tired of being scared, so tired of the shame and guilt that followed him like smoke.
“Can I kiss you?” He finally asked, taking a thick gulp.
You nodded slowly. “Kiss me.”
And he did. It was just as you had always imagined. Soft and sweet, deep and passionate. Your mouths molded together as though they were two puzzle pieces created for each other. It felt right. It felt good. It felt…. perfect. The way you had dreamed it would.
You shifted in his lap so you were straddling him, arms thrown around his neck as you beckoned him closer, his palms pressed firmly into your sides as he held you in place. You both knew you weren’t going anywhere.
You parted your lips as his hungry tongue swept against you, gently exploring your mouth, tasting your spit, the minty residue of your now thrown away gun mixing with his mouth. Joel groaned as you shuffled, and you felt the bulge in his sweatpants where his cock was getting harder and bigger.
You had seen his dick before. Once. When you both stumbled to your room drunk and you had given him a blowjob. The best blowjob of his life, as Joel remembered. He had held you by the hair, barely touching you except a gentle brush of his hand down your cheek after he had finished down your throat. You remembered how his eyes had engulfed you, how you watched as he seared the image of you on your knees into the recesses of his memory.
That was the closest you two had ever got, the farthest he had ever dared to go. And even then, it was selfish of him. He went to bed under the heavy blanket of ignominy, and he swore he would never do it again. He was drunk, Joel assured himself, it wasn’t like he….. loved you or anything. Right?
But now, with his tongue searching your throat and his hungry hands feeling their way around his skin, with the way your clothed bodies moved in harmony against the scratchy carpet of the hallway floor, what else could it be? Lust? No. Lust doesn’t last like this. It sizzles away at the prospect of someone new. No, no. You both knew what it was. Love. But you both too fearful to admit it.
“Joel.” You whispered against his mouth. He opened his eyes at the sound of his name, the way it so sweetly rolled off your tongue.
“Yes?”
“Take me to bed.” Your words stuttered against themselves as you took in a heavy heave of breath. “Take me to bed… and make me yours.”
Joel swallowed the tight lump dangling at the back of his throat. He had two options. One, say no and push you away. Two, give in to his deepest desires and fall further into this love he had tried so hard to forget.
The last time he chose one, you ran half way across the country.
He was a smart man, Joel. He knew exactly which one to pick. No more would he run.
He scooped you up into his arms wordlessly, carrying you to your neatly made bed. Your hair splayed across the white pillows, your doe eyes staring up at him, full of yearning, full of want.
You watched with hawk-like eyes as he slid his shirt off, moving to do the same before Joel stopped you.
“No. I want to undress you myself.” You swallowed thickly at his command, nodding as your neck grew hot with desire.
When Joel was left with nothing but his boxers on, you drunk his image in. A small tuff of hair rested above the hem of his underwear. His belly was soft, and stray curls of hair dotted across his broad chest. His shoulders were strong, broad, welcoming.
You looked up into his face, eyelashes fluttering.
He had a few more wrinkles, a lot more gray in his hair. There were a few more scars etched into his skin, a darker tint to his eyes. He had aged. But so had you.
You had always liked your men older, anyways.
Joel Miller was the man of your fucking dreams, and he was standing nearly naked in front of you.
“Up.” He motioned for you to sit up and you did without hesitation. A smile crossed his mouth as he cupped your cheek. “So good for me.” Joel murmured, slowly peeling your shirt off.
“For you.” You whispered with finality.
He nodded, eyes twinkling with….. happiness. Joel worked the lace of the leather boots you wore, carefully pulling them off your feet before sliding his hands towards the zipper of your jeans. He watched your face as he slowly unbuttoned them, stripping them from your legs. He watched the way your lips parted with desire, the way your eyelids shut as the feeling of his hands grazing your skin.
“Look at you.” Joel whispered, and you met his steaming gaze. “So beautiful.” He learned forward, pressing a kiss to the hem of your underwear. “Lay back for me, honey.”
You did as you were told, shivering as his warm hands pried your legs apart. He stared at your clothed pussy, the patch of wetness showcasing your arousal. Joel chewed on his cheek as he drunk the image in, taking in a sharp breath as he discarded your underwear.
And there you finally were. Open and exposed, laid bare for him, and only him. Joel slid down on his stomach, inching his way towards your cunt as he reached forwards, using his thumb to slowly trace down your outer lips.
You shuddered, taking in a deep breath of as your hands snaked to his head, running your fingers through his thick curls, watching his finger slowly move. You saw him spread you open, you pink, wet pussy on display for his searing gaze.
“Ain’t that a sight.” He hummed out. “This all for me?” His voice was smug. He knew. And you knew he knew.
“All for you.” You admitted, pushing a stray curl out of his eyes.
“Bet you taste real nice, too.” Joel leaned forward, extending his tongue as he swept it flat across your clit. This made you whimper out, your grip on his hair tightening. “Just as I thought. Sweetest thing I ever had.”
Your head fell back onto the pillows as he wrapped this lips around your swelling clit, sucking softly at the button. He was holding back, his movements teasingly gentle. You were squirming for him, nails digging into his scalp, your breath begging for me.
Joel pulled back, much to your dismay, and rubbed his middle finger against your entrance. He slowly pushed it in, grunting quietly.
“God, you’re so fuckin’ tight, honey. Can’t wait to feel you stretched against my cock.”
“Oh, God. Joel, please.” You murmured, watching as he resumed his tongue against your clit, swirling and flicking. Your thighs were shaking on his shoulders, where you hadn’t even realized you had propped them up.
Joel chuckled against your pussy, savoring the sweetness of your arousal, letting it coat his tongue like sugar. He lapped at your clit, middle finger slowly hitting up against that spot, coaxing you closer towards an orgasm.
“If-if you don’t stop Joel, I-I’m gonna cum.”
“Babydoll, that’s what I want.” He responded smugly, sucking harder at your clit.
“B-but I want to cum on your cock. I-I’ll be too sensitive.” You explained, hips grinding as your fingers pulled at his curls even more.
“We’ll see about that.”
Joel added his ring finger into your pussy, pushing and pumping into you, wanton noises of filth filling your ears. You cried out his name, right on the brink of orgasm, as Joel continued his same movements, never daring to stray or pause.
“Joel. Joel! Oh, fuck. Joel. God dammit. Joel, I’m cumming!” You were sure the whole neighborhood could heard but you weren’t half fussed about that at the moment. All you knew was his mouth was drawing you in to the most earth shattering orgasm of your life.
Tears pricked your eyes as he rode out your climax, his mouth never leaving your clit. His fingers slowed down to a halt, yet his mouth never left your cunt.
You whimpered, trying to push him away from your sensitive pussy, but Joel didn’t let up. He grabbed your thighs, relishing in your moans as he made sure to lick up every drop of your cum, every inch of your wetness. He wanted the flavor of your pussy to be stuck in his mouth for the rest of his life.
You collapsed onto the bed as he slowly pulled away, leaving a hot kiss to each thigh.
“Was that nice?” Joel asked smugly, wiping off his mouth with the back of his hand.
“Shut up, asshole.” You teased, a soft laugh escaping you. “Oh.” You murmured to yourself once you saw the bulge tenting at his boxers. You reached forward, gently grabbing it with your small hand. “Looks like we should do something about this.”
Joel hissed in a sharp breath of air, watching with intent as you tugged off his boxers. He kicked them off, his thick cock slapping against his stomach. He was thick, long, sexy- his cock could have been in a porn magazine, to be frank.
“Yeah, we should do somethin’ ‘bout this.” He had climbed on top of you, hands cupping your head as you glanced up at him with a tantalizing look stuck deep in your eyes.
“Yeah, we should. Fuck me, cowboy.” You whispered, resting your hands on his cheek. “Fuck me like you missed me.”
“I did miss you.” Joel admitted, almost shyly.
“I know.” You ran your hand through his hair, feeling the tip of his cock at your entrance. You sucked in a soft breath of air as he slowly began filling you up, allowing you the time to grow accustomed to the way he felt inside you.
“‘Course you do.” He snorted through gritted teeth, filling you completely up to the hilt.
You groaned softly, wrapping your arms around him as you held him to your chest, smiling up at him softly. “Feels so good.”
Joel buried his face in your neck, slowly moving his hips. “You’re so fuckin’ tight. So fuckin’…. so fuckin’ good for me. A god damned dream.” His words were hot, guttural, melding in to your skin like paint on a canvas.
You shuddered, dragging your nails down the length of his back, resting them on his ass. His movements grew harder, wilder, every inch of his throbbing cock deep within your walls.
“Christ, Joel.”
He groaned against you, propping himself up on his palms to watch your face. His nose brushed against yours as he leaned forward, lips pressing to yours in a burning kiss, igniting your body aflame.
“Love how you say my name.” He whispered as he pulled away from your mouth.
“Joel.” You mumbled, a teasing grin cascading on to your face:
With a smile of his own, Joel’s hand traced across your neck, down your shoulders, fingers tickling the skin of your arm before he reached your hand. Joel held it in his own, lacing your fingers tightly within his, thumb brushing over your knuckles.
His thrusts were steadier now that your eyes were on each others, hand held tightly in his own as he took the feeling of you in. The way your pussy clenched around him, the way your body felt tight on his. He pulled away from you, sitting back a bit as he held your hips, fucking himself in to you.
“Touch your clit.” He ordered, eyes darkening. You swallowed, lowering your hand to your pussy, where you did as you were told. You shivered. “Rub it.” He whispered, voice soft.
You rubbed it, your middle finger circling your swollen clit tenderly.
“You’re going to cum one more time for me. Okay?”
You nodded obediently, gently placing your free hand on to his arm. “Okay.” Your voice was sweet, angelic. It made Joel’s cock twitch, an animalistic grunt soon following.
He looked on with hungry eyes as you played with your pussy, stretching it out for him. You both watched the way his cock filled you up, the way the lips of your pussy strained against him. You whimpered at the sight, wondering how something so big could even possibly fit inside you.
You resumed your masturbation, fingering at your clit as he pumped in to you.
“That’s a good girl, rubbing your clit for me. Such a good fuckin’ girl.” He murmured, eyes glossed over with desire.
“Gonna cum for you again.” You warned, hips bucking.
“Yeah? Cum on my cock, honey. Paint it with your pretty cum.”
That’s all it took to send you over the edge. Your back arched off the mattress as your second orgasm washed over you, vision blurring white. Joel grabbed ahold of you and pulled you up, legs wrapping around his waist as he held you, pumping up into you as you shivered and shuttered against him. You chanted his name like a mantra, crying out against him.
You were eye level now, and Joel has you by the jaw, forcing your eyes to meet his.
“I’m gonna cum inside you. Gonna fill this little pussy up.” He whispered, forehead resting against yours.
“Cum inside me.” You begged, hands moving to his shoulders as he fucked your body on to his cock.
Joel groaned, primal noises filtering out as his dick convulsed inside of you, his hot cum painting the inside of your cunt. You moaned at the feeling of being properly full, grinding against him gently as you sat on his lap, your arms holding each other close and tight.
When his orgasm had subsided and you both fell against the soft mattress, you were still entangled with one another, his dick still stuffed inside you.
You stared at one another as though you had never known anyone else, eyes searching, reaching for the soul, sparkling with love, swimming with adoration.
His fingers traced down your back, resting on your thigh as he brought you closer.
“I’m sorry I left.” You whispered, your hand resting on the side of his neck. “I… I didn’t know what to do with all of it.”
“All of what?” Joel asked, voice deep and quiet.
“All of the love I had for you.” You sniffled, nuzzling your cheek into his. “Have.” You corrected.
“Have?” A smirk was tugging at his voice.
You took in a deep breath, bravely nodding your head. “Have. I…. you know I do.”
Joel rested his head against yours, looking down at you. “I’ve always known.”
A moment of silence fell over your bodies.
“I don’t think it’s goin’ anywhere, either.”
“Good.” Joel whispered, his dark eyes meeting yours. “I want it. All of it. ‘Til the day I die.”
“It’s yours, Joel. Always yours.”
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softiepedrito · 2 months
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yeah, I know.
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thot-of-khonshu · 21 days
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Sundress Season (Joel Miller x f! reader)
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18+ MDNI
I got bored and horny and wrote a little drabble about Joel railing you in his car while you’re in a sundress. Hope you’re all well.
It’s almost sundress season.
And Joel Miller never considered himself an ass man, but boy did yours convert him to worship.
You were out running errands all day and he just couldn’t help himself to look. Opening doors for you was a requirement as a man from the South but he’d take an extra moment to watch you walk away.
Watch the fabric hug your ass with no lines as a barrier. Your long, smooth legs cross and uncross while at lunch, barely able to eat because he was already so god damn hard for you.
You ask him if he’s okay, he tells you he’s not really hungry. He says he’s feeling off which technically isn’t a lie because he cannot remember the last time he was this hard in public if ever.
You hold his hand when you go back to the truck. He opens the door for you. You watch him from behind as you slide in. The hem of the dress slightly higher up your thighs than it was earlier.
High enough for Joel to see you went commando. You gave him an innocent smile.
Why, you had no idea buying this dress would cause your boyfriend such disarray.
Except when you tried it on and your best friend and the sales associate discussed how fuckable you looked.
Whoops, guess you forgot.
Joel drives the two of you home, the tension growing thick. His hand sliding higher, and higher, and higher but not quite where you need it. Tease.
You come home and he parks in the garage. You’re on top of him before he can even turn off the ignition.
You grind into him, moving in motion so his cock rubs at your clit in the sweet spot.
He whispers dirty things into your ear. That you’re a dirty girl and you’re fixin’ to get fucked so hard you won’t be able to walk.
He tells you to keep the dress on when he slides himself into you. Taking and taking and taking. Watching you lose yourself on him, your strap falling off your dress and one of your tits falling out. You look divine. He knows it every minute of every day but he just loves you so much and can’t believe you chose him.
You cum on his cock, slow and throbbing. You grind into his pelvic bone because even though it hurts a little you’ve bottomed out. You can’t get enough of him.
He starts to cum inside you after watching you get yourself off on him. Pulsing into you and feeling his warmth. His want.
When you go inside to clean up, Joel makes you promise you still won’t take the sundress off.
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nexusnyx · 1 year
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my fellow, my guy
Joel Miller x f!Reader [5.3k] Summary: All his attempts at faking nonchalance about anything are gone out of the window just like that. Four words and Joel's changed. In his bones, the very chemistry of his brain. "'Cause he's my guy." How did he ever manage to not claim you in front of the world? He has no clue, but Joel's changing that. Tonight.
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— A/n 📝I wanted to try something different. What if possessive!Reader brought out the possessiveness in Joel? Reblogs and comments make all the difference. — Warnings⚠️ mature content—explicit depictions of sex, so minors dni. | 🏷️ age gap, established relationship, rough sex, possessive!Joel, dirty talking, thigh riding, spanking, soft!Dom!Joel, possessive!Reader, oral (f receiving), penetration, creampie.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤmasterlist | read on ao3
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In the middle of what seemed like a sea of infinite, boring nothingness, Joel is hooked by the magnitude of your nature's force — the power in the way you stand; your presence.
His favorite thing ever since he met you. Everything about you.
Since he arrived at Jackson's community with Ellie two years ago, he's been blinded by it.
Your light, heat, glow. Joel might as well be a moth, and it amazed him now that he thought of it, how long he managed to pretend he was anything by mesmerized by your flames. In the middle of the meeting, you utter the words that snap something inside him, and Joel feels his inner workings shifting. Four words and Joel's changed:
"'Cause he's my guy."
All his attempts at faking nonchalance about anything are gone out of the window just like that. In his bones, the very chemistry of his brain — Joel feels a snap, and he sort of... embraces it.
There's silence around the table for only a second.
Nathan had asked: "But why does he get to go if it's that dangerous? I get it when you go by yourself 'cause we know you're different, but I've asked you multiple times, and it's always no. I just — I don't get why he's going."
And you had answered.
Loud and clear.
"Not that you have to get anything, Nathan, since you don't have the ground knowledge to be second-guessing my decisions of any plans, but — it's simple. I'll answer you. 'Cause he's my guy. And I'll take him to wherever I please."
You had paused, lifted both eyebrows in question, and Nathan remained silenced.
Joel freezes at first, too. When you say 'he's my guy' the words shoot like a freezing spell that hits his blood, but even with almost all eyes turning shamelessly to him, Joel can feel his shoulders relaxing further back the more you stare at him. In only a second he sees a lot of words running through your eyes, and all he can think back is a litany of — yes exactly yes—
He leans back on the chair's backrest. Both of his feet slide a few inches further, his legs spreading wider.
He is your guy.
Has been for a while now. A year — almost a year a half, if he was being really accurate. While both of you managed to keep that hidden for the better half of that time, lately the nosy (and delusional) jackasses like Nathan were prodding into your business with jabs here and there. Tauntings about the 'nature' of things between you and him. As if they couldn't see it in both of your eyes. Your postures. The way you walked side by side.
No matter how private you two tried being, you two almost had rings gravitating the bubble created around you, like Saturn in the sky.
Joel knew they frowned upon him. Talked about him on his back — about him and his daughter, about his daughter's personality, and the way Joel Miller seems to 'have only smiles for his Ranger neighbor'.
The silence around the table's broken by his own voice, letting the words slip out of his tongue. "Don't worry, Nathan. 'm not decorative. I've got good aim. If you're worried about her safety, don't be."
What a jackass move. That's what the smile on the corner of your mouth said to him. "See? So helpful. We'll all be fine, and once we're through there and come back, everyone else can be fine too knowing there's nothing to worry about."
With a sigh, you get up before Nathan can finish collecting his patience from the floor, or wipe away the humiliation of being rejected for what is far from the first time since he's unable to accept a refusal without embarrassing himself.
"Are we all clear?"
After a round of verbal agreement from the table — one of which comes through gritted teeth — you nod once, put on a smile, and sigh loudly. "Excellent. You're all free to go."
It was so, so — hot. Enticing, and hypnotizing.
The power you had over people that came not because of something futile, but because of how capable your hands were. Joel was an imbecile if he was being honest with himself.
How did he ever manage to not claim you in front of the world? He has no clue, but Joel's changing that.
Tonight.
He sits back and waits while the room empties out, slowly.
Some people linger back to talk to each other, to him, to you. He answers all of them without ever turning his body away from you, and when there are only a handful of people left, Joel remains seated, with no rush to gather his jacket or things since he's leaving with the person who's closing the whole building.
He's leaving with you.
Tommy, Mercedes, and Max are the last ones hanging around, and while the two latter go exchange a word with you — "good gods, can we do a round table vote to kick fucking Nathan out of here? I know he's a master engineer or whatever, but fuck, man, he's annoying", starts Max — his brother knocks his elbow on his side.
Joel looks up to find the smirk on Tommy's face.
"If you had feathers, you'd be peacocking all over the goddamn room," he whispers for Joel's ears only.
Joel laughs under his breath. "Shut up."
Tommy shakes his head, laughing as well. "Nah, I won't, actually. I happen to like seein' that stupid look on your goddamn face."
"Is that so?" Joel wants to sound a little more sarcastic, but with the huge smile he feels imprinted on his face, it's impossible to do so.
"Damn right it is," Tommy chuckles. "And you know why it's the best seein' that smile puttin' even a glint in your eyes, huh?"
Oh, god, here he goes. "Why?"
"Because this is the best damn I told you so on the planet. Well — one of the best. There's space for more," Tommy pouts, looking up with a musing look. "A couple of really big others." He looks down at Joel again, smiling from ear to ear. "I've gotten really smart in your absence, and I wanna hear the day when you'll admit it."
Joel's amused by the confidence — if Tommy's right about many other things Joel will find out eventually, but this, he owns.
Tommy introducing Joel to you with only a nudge in the right direction was all it took.
"We'll see about those," Joel answers and Tommy huffs good-heartedly in response, an image most familiar to Joel.
Now again, after almost decades without it.
Joel's happy for many reasons, it seems.
He sinks his feet in the feeling, not wanting to track back to things he's unable to change.
Tommy opens his mouth to say something, but Joel catches a cue from across the room:
Keys. Your set of keys when grabbed from the table make a known sound, and it's like an alarm — a triggering sound that connects to routine. He hears them and Tommy turns around, seeing how Max and Mercedes are leaving.
Joel and Tommy move in sync toward you, and everybody — with the exception of Joel and you — bids their goodbyes at the door outside.
As soon as they're out of sight, Joel turns to find your eyes already waiting for his.
He never had this type of relationship before. Never saw in someone's eyes the thoughts running through their mind at that exact moment, and it was exhilarating.
You knew your words had affected them.
The only thing you were probably unaware of was the epiphany that accompanied them — the moment his mind came to a halt.
The inner fight over faking being empty.
It was so silly. Joel was full.
"If I kiss you here, we're not gonna stop," Joel informs you.
A breathless chuckle leaves you, and you take a step, falling gracefully into his hold. "Really?"
Joel loves sultriness in your voice. "Really." He goes back to the words he's been letting your mind soak up. Closes his eyes, leaning his forehead on yours as his arm locks around you. "How could you do that to me, hm?"
His own voice is wrecked. Sounds like something out of a ridiculous sex tape, or one of those Star Wars movies from back in the way.
Seemingly content with what you've done, Joel feels your giggling more than hears it—the huffs of breath on his chin and cheeks tickle. "I wasn't really thinking when I said it? It's just — it was the third time he questioned me choosing you to team up and I know it's stupid to let it get to me, I know Nathan's just — jealous, which is even more ridiculous than anything, but I hate the way he speaks over me sometimes. I hate it! And when I saw... it'd slipped out."
It's the coyness at the end of your ramble that gets him to open his eyes.
"Slipped out," he echoes.
You nod, smiling up at him. A little shy, a little devious. "Yeah."
The worst part is — he believed you. "I believe you." Truth does that. It slips out. It's uncontainable, like sunshine or water or rain.
Then, you're happier, and whenever your smile widened like that, Joel was always taken over by the desire to kiss you. This time, he embraced the hunger with open arms and leaned to capture what he wanted.
None of you discussed the lack of control of doing this only seconds after he just said there was no controlling him, but this was more than a need — or delicious, wet evidence —, it was breathing.
Joel inhales deeply while his tongue tangles with yours, his hands finding their path easily to your hair through your favorite spots and detours on your neck. He kisses them just to breathe.
He went without addiction for so long in this world.
When your throat vibrations with a low moan, Joel knows why.
He'd been weak before. No room in him for addictions if there were no higher parts of him working. No real thinking, feeling, existing.
People turned to things that gave them a thrill because existing demanded too much. A strenuous task with little to no rewards, which made everyone to need an escape.
Thankfully, you were no escape.
And as far as vices went, the taste of you was an infinite, healthy, and powerful source for one.
He pulls back for oxygen, breathing out slowly the warmness you leave in his chest.
"So I'm your guy." Joel needed to hear it again, maybe. He liked how the words sounded on his lips, too.
"You are."
Sweet Jesus.
He needs to get you home before starting this shit. "Fuck," it slips out. You laugh, resting your forehead on his sternum, and Joel nods to you and to himself. "'kay. We need to go. Let's go?"
"Yeah".
"Alright. No distractin' me while I'm drivin', ya hear me?"
Despite having already done everything tonight, you still have the audacity to whine at his request. Joel ought to slap your ass right there in the middle of the street. On the sidewalk outside where both of you work, often.
He takes advantage of the hand on your hair, making a fist with it — as carefully as he can be — and grips just right.
Putting his mouth to your ear, he whispers. "I'll spank ya 'till your ass is red if you whine again before my tongue's buried in your pussy." Joel lives for the way you gasp for him. He presses his whole body flushed with yours, and hears the repressed groan in your throat when you feel it. "I've been half hard since what you said sank in. Calling me yours like that, claiming me for everybody to hear. Had to fuckin' stop myself from thinkin' about fucking you on that table for everyone to see. Don't make me crazier than I already am, I swear to—" his final words end muffled on your lips.
Instead of finishing, he just gets another little taste of you.
One for the road.
For safe keeping.
Joel had such a distance between his mind now and the memories of his young adult years that every time this happened, he felt a little choked up:
nostalgia.
True, genuine nostalgia.
For him, it came in waves.
It smelled of his first trip to the beach, and the taste of gelato sticking sweet on his tongue. Showing him real sweetness for the first time.
That's what driving home to you feels like.
Joel's still not used to your eyes on him. Being looked at with so much hunger scared him at first. Joel thought these days were past him. He imagined luxury, lust, adventure, and the nice, saccharine-type of adrenaline all belonged in his past.
To a Joel that died when Cordyceps wrecked the world.
It turned out that your fingertips on his thigh touched the parts of him that proved his wonderings wrong.
Sure, he had trouble getting hard all by himself if he wanted to jack off on a random weekday, but — put you biting your bottom lip on the passenger seat, and Joel was bulging inside his jeans, stiff as a rock and with no rush to see the end of it.
The silence that blanketed the car comfortably is thrown out of the window when you two enter his room, fully clothed.
You are so good for him.
When Joel kicks his bedroom door closed behind him, you are still. Waiting for it.
Knowing exactly what he needs.
A shiver runs through his whole body, and Joel sits on his armchair to remove his boots. He turns on the soft light on the interrupter behind him, feeling around the wall for it so his eyes can remain on you. When the room's illuminated by yellow, warm light, Joel kicks off his shoes and spreads his legs, making himself comfortable.
"Take off your shoes." He loves this part. "And your pants." Joel's hand comes up to his beard, rubbing the patchy hair. "Then get here," he pats his lap, and watches as you do as he asked.
Slowly. Exactly how he likes it.
Joel keeps smoothing out the hair on his face as he watches you do it. The right word for what awakens inside him every time his eyes land on more and more skin, and more of your body, is adoration.
He'd been attracted to some people since the outbreak happened, it'd be impossible for him not to — Joel pretended for a long while to be devoid of feelings, not being dead.
Attraction and primal, raw desire might belong in the same family, but they lived on almost opposite ends of the spectrum. The first was the beginning of 'Interest' while the second was the furthest point of it.
Joel desired you for things that went far beyond your looks, but gods—
The looks.
He was painfully attracted to you, and he knew it dripped out of him.
When you strip off from all the item he asks for and walks to him, Joel puts his legs together to give you space in his armchair. His arms open up to welcome your body straddling his, then wrap around you, pulling you as close as possible.
As if he wished to trap you.
You wished he would.
For a while, all he does is feel you up.
His hands run over every exposed inch of your skin while his face rubs on your neck and your face, beard leaving the first tingles of what later will be red burns. Meanwhile, your body ignites as if fuel is being added to fire.
The longer Joel touches you, rubs on you, leaves trails of his mouth and his kisses on the skin it passes through, the hotter you burn. It starts as a fire in your brain — Joel started as a single flame somewhere in your mind, one you were unable to pin a finger on and eventually put out, and it grew, and it took over. His heat spreads from a fog around your thoughts to your neck. It descends to your neck, then it warms your chest.
When his tongue and teeth scrape a spot in your jugular, the storm he caused settles in between your legs, causing them to rut against his lap, rocking against the bulge inside his pants.
Joel hums in your neck, pulling back to look at your face. His smile is smug, and you say it you hate it every time you see it. "Stupid cocky smile." The words are ineffective as always — in face of how breathy you sound, the way your hips are moving in circles on top of him, they're empty.
"You love my cocky everything." Stupid cocky bastard.
Your mouth crashes against him, landing in a bruising kiss.
Joel never minded your roughness.
He embraced it however it came, whenever it came. Joel liked it. In all its forms, it was beautiful to him.
It matches the despair inside him. Joel enjoys how he's able to devour you, sometimes whole, because you feast on him as well. You tongue is hot and heavy on his, and your moans awaken the words from the meeting back to him.
Joel kisses even harder.
His hands — one on the nape of your neck and the other grabbing at your back, your boobs, your stomach — both move to your waist and guide your moves to slow it down.
When you pull back to breathe, Joel wants to feel everything.
He takes off your shirt in one swift motion, throwing them off somewhere without care. He removes your top as well, then takes a moment to appreciate the view.
"Take my clothes off, baby." He hates to have you off his lap for even a moment, but for this, it's worth it.
Since the first time he slept with you, Joel chooses to let you undress him if he can. If he's not in a rush to have you, if it's not one of those incredible moments when he already wakes up with you naked and him still only in boxers — if he can, Joel picks this—
Your fingers sometimes are desperate. Buttons are your worst enemy when all you want is him naked for you, but most of the time, you take your time. Do it slowly, taking off each item with the care he never seems to have for your clothes because all Joel cares for is your skin.
"I like taking them off."
"Why?"
"Remember how I asked you that first time to do it?"
"Yeah."
"So — I wanted to do it for so long. I—don't laugh at me, or — look at me weird, but. I thought about it. A lot. Thought about... all these layers you're often using. And — I'm crazy about your body. You—I know you complain about the aches and joke about being old and frail, which is — bullshit. Ridiculous, and everyone knows it. It's just... I like that you let me do it. I like that I get to undress you. It's hot. You're hot."
The memory strikes him again — as it does when he's in this position — and Joel feels a little raw.
Now that he knows how you feel, it makes it more real.
How you peel off his shirt by running your palms across his chest all the way through his back. Undoing the zipper of his pants, you palm the outline of his cock, then get down on both knees to pull them all the way off. Joel helps by lifting his hips a little, and seeing the way your eyes snap to his groin makes him burn.
Joel knows exactly what you'll go for — he watches you remove and throw his jeans to the side, hands running up his calves while you stand on both knees to nibble little bites on his thighs.
He hisses, feeling his dick twitch the closer you get to it. He lets you have your fun, no matter how much it feels like torture.
Your tongue touches the muscle of his inner thigh, sucking a bruise in there, and Joel gasps. "You ain't gonna do what you think you are."
You muffle what he images would be another whine by sucking a bruise on his other thigh. "Please?" You blink your gorgeous eyes, gazing straight at him.
Joel cups your face in one hand, smiling again. He refrains from answering because he likes what comes next.
The kisses that inch closer to his cock. The innocent, and yet siren eyes that stay steady on his while you whisper. "I've been good. Why not?"
"'Cause I have other plans for you."
You perk up. "What d'you want?"
Joel pats his lap. "Get back here."
You do as he says in a second, but instead of straddling both of his thighs, Joel guides you to one of his thighs. It's a tight squeeze in the armchair, but he makes it work. He pulls your panties to the side and pulls you down, feeling the wetness of your cunt at the first movement of your hips.
"That's it," he coos, tangling one hand in your hand to pull you in for a kiss. "Wanna see you get off on my thigh, baby," he kisses your neck, and smiles when you moan at his words and grind harder on him. "Just like that. Gonna use me? Hm?"
"Yeah."
"Gonna use your guy?"
"Joel." Your movements back and forth create a path of slickness in his thigh, and for someone who occasionally needs a little hand from you to get fully hard, he would believe the horniness in his mind that says he's just as young as ever. He feels he's never this hard — this desperate; the wet patch in his boxers only amplifies the louder you moan for him, and with your mouth back on his, Joel can imagine he's a mess.
Not as much as you. Nonetheless — a mess.
With a red, plump mouth, you pull back from his kisses to hold onto his face. Your other hand is gripping the back of his head, and Joel loves the look of pure lust on your face.
The look of someone who's in another dimension of feeling good.
He did that. Joel groans low in his throat when he thinks of it, and assaults your neck with kisses. One hand comes down to slap your ass, and you yelp — the look of surprise that flashes across your features is replaced by one of absolute pleasure within a split second, and Joel growls at witnessing it.
He slaps the other side with his other hand, and you cry for him.
"You're gonna cum like this." He knows you can. Joel's tested several different ways he can bring you to the edge, and this is one of his favorites. "Then, I'm gonna fuck you with my tongue."
"Oh, god." Your cries are accompanied by whimpers at every push of your hips on his thigh, and the slick sounds covering the air are taking away Joel's ability to think of anything other than you.
"Yeah — 'm gonna fuck you so hard, baby, goddamn it."
"Just like — like you want to? On the table?"
"Yes. Fuck—just like that." Joel sees you're teetering on the edge. He recognizes the trembling of your hand fisted in his hand, and the desperate way your hips start moving, almost losing balance. He leans to capture your bottom lip with his teeth, wanting so badly he could eat you. "Cum for me. If I'm yours, then you're mine, right?" Your hips falter at the words, losing their rhythm due to the shiver that runs through you. "That's it. Show me you're my lady. All fuckin' mine. Always so good for me, so fuckin' perfect—god, yeah. Like that — so damn good. Cum, baby. Don't stop. Keep cummin' for me."
Between your first and second orgasm, Joel gets lost in his mind and the moment.
It's rare for that to happen.
For someone who was used to panic rising so fast in his chest that it led to his heart trying to run out of his chest, or at least beat fast enough for it to feel like that, having no other thoughts but the present one and to submerge in what he's feeling.
He had to stop running from it — he feels.
Life never stopped, even if it felt like it did. No broken watch would stop time, and it was you who brought him the realization.
Joel shows his gratitude in one of the few ways he knows to.
One of the few ways he's at least certain he's good at.
By bringing you white bliss, and making you drown in nothing but good, for as long as he can. He carries you to bed and eats you from behind at first. That way Joel can fuck his tongue deeper inside you — he can bend you as far as you'll go and use his tongue until his jaw aches; until it stings and then burns because the reward tastes sweet on his tongue. It washes away all the hurt and gets his humming against your wet and pulsing core.
When he turns you over to do the same thing again but with you on your back, Joel gets lost in the middle of the way.
Your hands make grabby gestures at him.
Legs shaking, your skin covered in sweat, the way you say, "Please get on top of me." It's all too much.
Joel loses his last piece of clothing in one motion, and does something he should know better than to risk.
Grabbing his cock by the base, he drags the head between the lips of your cunt, pulling a moan from both of you. This is where he usually would grab a condom — after teasing you, giving you just the head, making you spread your legs wider or lock your legs behind his ass just to pull him closer.
Not this time. This time, he leans down until his mouth is on your ear and asks. "Can I? I understand if you don't want to—"
"Please. Yes, yes," you interrupt, hooking your legs around him and already pushing his hips closer.
Joel slides deeper, grunting on your neck. "Always so tight," he sounds drunk. "Lemme in, baby... Like that. Breathe deep." Joel's a big man, and the way you slowly relax to take all of him gets to his head every time. "Atta fuckin' girl, jus' like that."
"Joel this feels even better." The whine around the words makes him cry on your shoulder. He knows this is far from being the last time now.
He pulls out and slams it back in. "Fuckin' hell — it does." He thrusts his hips hard, but not fast. He likes to enjoy your sounds.
The filthy ones that fill the room.
If you sense that something shifted in Joel — something in his core, a foundation that he painted a coat of invisible ink over it as if such a thing existed — nothing about you lets that out.
You always held his face in your hands as he buried himself inside you.
The way you look at him — nothing about it is new, either.
Only this time, Joel lets himself feel it all the way through.
He is your guy, after all. He can feel all the good things you bring out in him because you want him to. It matters to you if he's happy or not. If he's safe, and fed, and not in pain. Joel buries himself in you the same way he buried all his hopes long ago — you found it in him, anyway. Years later, somewhere between all the grief and dust, you picked it up and gave it back to him even if he never asked for it.
Joel's usually harsher with you, not because he's trying to be mean, but because you like it when it hurts a little.
"Wanna feel you tomorrow—" are words he's heard a lot coming from you. Today, you say, "You gonna let your cum drip out of me?"
And it fucks with his head. He nods in answer, snapping his hips harder. Joel glues his forehead on yours and nods, grunting with the effort and the delicious drag of your tight cunt squeezing around him.
"'m close, Joel — feels too good."
That's his favorite song. How out of breath you sound, voice higher than ever. "'m gonna cum when you cum. 'm right behind you, baby. 's ok. Take your time. Feels good? Hm? Taking every fuckin' inch of me?"
"Oh god, Joel." Your hips are pushing back on his, and your arms use his shoulders for leverage as you hold onto him.
He laughs, kissing you through gasps and his own sounds. He shares the same air as you, wanting to fuck you so fast and hard that both of your hips will be hurting tomorrow, but he wants this to go on for a long time more than he wants to lose himself in you.
When your begging for "More, please Joel, more—" starts, Joel sits both of you up, pulling you back to his lap. He puts a pillow behind your back, supporting you against the headboard, and sits on his kneels and heels even if tomorrow they'll be aching.
You give him massages when he's hurting.
Joel needs to be as close to you as possible. Like this, your bodies are one.
Like this, you can plant your feet against the bed and fuck him back, as hard and as fast as you want to.
Joel gets a face full of your boobs bouncing up and down and your screams muffling his moans.
He feels it coming — you cling your arm around his shoulder and pull his face to yours again, your mouth hanging open in a perfect O until your eyes close shut.
Joel seems to lose all notion of time as you fall apart on top of him. He feels it all over your body. The orgasm shakes you whole, the trembling only losing for the way your cunt squeezes so hard around him, making it even harder to pull out. He fucks you deep and hard then, and it takes only a few more thrusts before he's moaning in your ear as he fills you up.
Coming down from a high is always difficult.
With you in his arms, it never happens.
Joel plays with his own cum leaking down your thighs, and smiles to himself when you tremble in sensitivity at his minor touches. He'll take a warm cloth and clean you both later, but first, he'll make a mess.
"All mine," he tells you. His fingers graze your clitoris, drenched in the mix of his own release and yours, and something in your eyes tell him you know what he's talking about.
While he may be unable to say some things — and your existence is challenging even that — he can say this much.
He agrees with you.
"All mine," you echo. Your kiss on his lips taste sweeter than before. They taste like I'm yours and you're mine, and for now, that's all he needs.
Joel has you, and you have him. It's all he needs to start.
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🏷️ @sakuralikestars — @mostardentily — @thegreat-annamaria — @leiticia — @polyglot-noodle — @casssiopeia — @earthtocharlene — @levylovegood — @simply-sams-things — @lavenderhhze — @gracie7209 — @waywardwolfbonklight — @shadytalething — @yesimwriting — @celestialstar111 — @averysblog — @pedrostories — @fleursirvart
⚠️ if anyone being tagged would like to not be, just let me know in my inbox (which you can also use to talk to me about all the appeals of Joel Miller with his hair slicked back. Just saying hehe.
15K notes · View notes
quin-ns · 1 year
Text
Sleeping Bag (Joel Miller x Reader)
Word count: 1.7K
Summary: you can’t get comfortable in your sleeping bag, so joel invites you into his
Tags: age gap (mostly implied), anxiety, fluff, protective/caring!joel, comfort, cuddling, sharing a sleeping bag (instead of the one bed trope lol), kissing (forehead and lips), it’s just cute short and fun
A/N: simple and quick, inspired by ep 4 when joel and ellie were in sleeping bags in the woods, but no explicit spoilers. I’ve been wanting to write for joel since episode one and finally got an idea. pretty sure more will be coming soon…
Cross-posted to ao3 • tlou masterlist • writing masterlist
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After sleeping in a bed in the QZ’s for years, suddenly trying to get comfortable in a sleeping bag on the ground was proving difficult for you.
What a spoiled thought to have, right? Well, it wasn’t just that. You were out in the open woods. There could be infected anywhere. They could come for you any second. How could you close your eyes and rest peacefully knowing you were no longer behind the barrier walls?
Ellie was already asleep, you could hear her light snores. Your back was facing him, but you assumed Joel was asleep as well given his stillness. You rolled from your side to your back and sighed.
You had to sleep. You should’ve been tired. You and Joel had taken turns driving, although since you didn’t have much driving experience Joel became concerned when you began to struggle with the gear shift and mixed up the pedals (it only happened once but he couldn’t let it go). Joel had grown exhausted and didn’t want to stress you out by making you drive without him as backup/support, so you all stopped for the night. He was thoughtful like that; even if he was a bit grouchy sometimes.
You turned from your back to your other side, eyes landing on Joel. He was facing you, eyes closed, breathing steadily. The older man actually seemed to be at peace. He only looked like that when he was asleep. The moment he woke up, you knew he’d have that slight pout and furrow of his brows that you’d become accustomed to.
If Joel caught you staring, you wondered what he’d say. You could never pinpoint the way he viewed you. Friend? Daughter? Burden? You’d be way more okay with the previous two as long as it wasn’t the third. Although if you were being honest with yourself, you hoped it was none of the above.
Despite his age and his tough nature, you had a thing for Joel. Like, a thing. Feelings, attraction, affection—whatever you wanted to call it. Definitely a crush. Love? Maybe. It was a little bit confusing, but nothing in this life was simple.
Joel had taken you under his wing a while back and looked after you. He was incredibly protective and even if he wasn’t the best with expressing himself, Joel cared for you. He made you feel safe. He was there for you when you had no one else.
You rolled to your other side. Then back. Simply put, tossing and turning. The thought that you were being loud don’t even cross your mind until—
“What are you doing?” Joel’s voice caught your attention.
You let out a sigh, feeling bad that you’d woken the man up. You turned back to face him. “I can’t sleep,” you confessed.
“I can tell,” he murmured. “Do you plan on rolling around all night?”
You frowned to yourself. “I'm sorry.”
Joel exhaled softly and even in the dark, you could see the sympathy in those deep brown eyes of his. You hadn’t realized that subconsciously, you’d moved closer to him.
“It’s okay.” He had a soft spot for you, even though he’d probably deny it.
“I’ll try and be… still, I guess.” You knew you weren’t going to be able to sleep. “Just go back to sleep, I’ll be fine.” That was a lie.
“No,” he decided after a moment. You furrowed your brows. “You need sleep too.”
“I can’t get comfortable,” you replied. You let a few seconds pass before adding, “…and I’m too anxious.”
“I’m not gonna let anything happen to you,” Joel promised like if there was one thing he was sure about, it was that.
It meant a lot, it really did. But you huffed out a humorless laugh and went to a worse case scenario. “You’re all the way over there. If an infected wanted to get me, it could. Before you could stop it.”
Joel was quiet for a few beats. You hadn’t meant to insult him, but it was true. It didn’t matter how safe you felt with him there. They were faster than him. Faster than anyone.
“So then come over here,” Joel offered, voice still thick with sleep. It sounded incredibly enticing.
The image of you crawling into his sleeping bag crossed your mind faster than you could stop it. You had to do a double take. “Like… scoot over there?” you tried to clarify inconspicuously.
“If you’re against sharing with me.”
So, he had meant what you’d hoped for. Your heart skipped a little beat and you swallowed.
“I’m not.”
All Joel did was hum. You unzipped your sleeping bag and left the warmth. Joel was ready and waiting when you moved over to him, enveloping you into the safety of his sleeping bag and heavy arms. You wiggled around a little bit until you got comfortable. For the first time since you’d left the QZ, it didn’t take long.
“Thank you,” you mumbled softly, trying to keep your breathing calm. Being so close to Joel was causing you to become less focused on sleep and more focused on the way his breath sounded so close to your ear.
“Mmhhmm,” he hummed from deep in his throat with closed lips. You thought it was going to be left at that, but then you heard his gruff voice. “I know it’s been hard on you.” You opened your mouth to deny it, but he continued. “Even if you’re too stubborn to admit it beyond makin’ snarky comments.”
You took in a breath. He got you on that one, and you both knew it. “Since when do you know me this well?”
“Since always,” Joel pointed out. “You’re easy to read.”
“For you maybe.”
“Yeah, for me,” he agreed, sounding pleased with himself. Joel was silent for a long moment, listening to the soft rustle of your body as you gazed around your surroundings. The grass, the trees, the darkness… “I’m sorry for being so selfish.”
The sudden apology confused you. “What?”
“You’ve never been outside of the QZ before, and for good reason,” Joel started. “It’s a scary world out here and I shouldn’t have subjected you to it. I shouldn’t have brought you along.”
His voice was full of guilt that seemed to come out of nowhere, but given all he had to say you suspected he’d been carrying it since you left.
“I wanted to come with you,” you assured him. You never second guessed that decision despite everything that had happened so far. “Where is this coming from?”
“You’re scared and it’s my fault.” You could hear the deep frown in his voice.
“You’re the reason I feel safe right now,” you said without a second thought. It was true. You wanted him to know that. There was something you wanted to know too, now, and you couldn’t help but ask. “Do you not want me here?”
“I do,” Joel confessed. “That’s why I’m selfish.” There was a pause but you didn’t dare speak. “I didn’t want to be away from you.”
A wave of realization crashed over you.
You wiggled around, turning until you were facing him. You offered him a soft, delicate smile that you hoped he could see despite the dark.
“It almost sounds like you care about me. A lot,” you couldn’t help but tease.
“You know I care about you,” Joel stated, like it was the most obvious thing. Maybe he’d tried to cover it up in the past, but someone would have to be blind to not see that you meant something to Joel.
“I care about you too,” you admitted with much more ease. He knew, though.
Joel, in an uncharacteristically soft gesture, pressed a kiss to your forehead. You could hardly believe it. But it felt nice. You liked the affection. And coming from someone like Joel who never let their guard down, it was significant enough to leave you speechless.
“It’s gonna be daylight soon,” he muttered. “You should try and get some sleep.”
“Yeah, okay,” you agreed with a slight nod. “Just… one more thing.” It took everything you had to be brave enough to say that, and to do what you were going to do next.
There was basically no space between the two of you, but you managed to bring your hand up to Joel’s face and cup his jaw. You leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to his lips.
Joel didn’t hesitate to kiss you back. He took charge, but it wasn’t surprising. He had a dominating presence and was rough around the edges, you didn’t think he’d be delicate with you.
Not that you minded.
His lips moved against yours, almost in a frenzy. Like he was scared you’d slip away from him. It was so needy, so passionate. You wished you would’ve done this much, much sooner
Joel found the willpower to break away from the kiss before you. You would’ve happily lost consciousness in order to kiss him for just a few more moments. But then you’d worry him, and you hated to see Joel worry.
But you didn’t see worry when you looked into his eyes. You saw a hint of wonder. You were both staring into a new beginning as you gazed upon one another. He was panting a little, both of your soft breaths intertwining.
“You need sleep,” he reminded you.
Of course he still couldn’t drop the protector role. He wasn’t wrong about that, either. You smiled to yourself, the feel of his lips still ghosting yours despite the distance. You twisted in the sleeping bag without a word, knowing that you’d never be able to sleep facing Joel. You’d probably be too busy staring at him…
So yeah, you laid with your back to his chest and closed your eyes. His arms held you tight against his firm body. Not only providing warmth, but security as well.
“Goodnight,” Joel mumbled to you, already dozing back off. You could hear the soft smile in his voice despite the tiredness. It seemed easier for him to sleep wherever, although you liked to think you were bringing him some kind of comfort as well. With the way he held you against him it wouldn’t be an unrealistic thought.
“Goodnight, Joel,” you replied softly, finally able to relax your breathing. The feel of Joel’s body pressed against you, his strong arms around you—it felt like a dream. Safe and sound, away from the dangers that lie not far off. And soon enough, you were finally able to close your eyes and fall into a peaceful sleep.
11K notes · View notes
promisingyounglady · 1 month
Text
accident. | JP x Reader
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PAIRING: Javier Peña x Wife!Reader
SYNOPSIS: we all make accidents. javier forgetting to pick you up at the train station was an accident. you forgetting to bring an umbrella was an accident. throwing a knife at your husband? you’re going to have prove that one was an accident to him.
WC: 3.6k
WARNINGS: SMUT, angst, mentions of weapons and knives, reader throws a knife at javier *just read you’ll find out*, implied age gap, established relationship, javier is a bit older than reader, domestic au, slight dom!javi, mentions of food and cooking, profanity, bratty!reader, reader is mean but javier can be meaner, floor sex, creampie, unprotected sex, spanking, handcuffs, cum eating, brief oral (f recieving), slight non-con, rough sex, praise, degradation, post-sex sweetness, not proofread.
AUTHORS NOTE: obsessed and mentally ill. so here’s slightly dom!javi with a ton of angst
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A headache ensues in Javier’s mind.
He tries to combat it with the clouds of smoke rising through the air, the comfortable scent of tobacco and cigarettes filling his nose as he takes a drag from the stick perched in between his blistered fingers, this inhale, longer than the last.
Today had been shit. It really had. All day he had been cooped up in the office with stacks of paperwork almost taller than himself, tossed onto him and Murphy's desk by the higher ups, a high demand for deadlines with their patience being low.
Javier had been sitting in his office for almost seven hours straight, looking at papers with tiny writing and filing reports with pen until sensitive pink blisters formed around a hand that should’ve been driving and carrying a gun today, out in the field on a mission another team had instead been tasked with.
He’s getting old for this stuff, and he knows its true when he feels a strain in his back from shifting in his seat.
Maybe that’s why they shoved the paperwork in the old man’s hands.
Javier leans forward, grabbing his almost empty pack of cigarettes from his desk, deciding a fourth one was necessary for tonight.
“Javier,” a voice calls for him, looking up when he sees the new secretary holding the phone facing her chest. “You’ve got a call”
“From who” he says gruffly, brows furrowed. He lights the cigarette with his lighter, tossing it onto his desk and taking another puff.
“It’s your wife,” The secretary states. “she’s asking what you want for dinner.”
Javier stops in the middle of flicking the ashes, letting the cigarette sit warm in his fingers when he turns his head so he could see her correctly.
Your sweet voice calls out through the receiver, a chill running down Javier's spine when he makes out that it really is you.
“Yeah, Sherry, it’s fine if he’s busy, just let him know I called. Tell him dinner’ll be late tonight, at around 10.” you piped up sweetly, saying goodbye to your husband's secretary before hanging up the call.
She leaves after telling him what he already heard, but Javier is quick to immediately put out the burning cigarette and quickly grab his coat, making his way out the office.
“Peña, Where are you going? We only got a few more stacks left” Murphy calls out, hair in a mess from the many stressful tugs and his own cigarette nestled in between his fingers.
“my wife.” Javier replies, suddenly not liking the bitter taste in his mouth.
“It’s raining outside, you’re gonna get drenched” the blonde tells him, shaking his head as he took a drag from his own cancer stick.
Javier stops in his tracks, looking outside the window to see his partner was right. It was pouring out there, hardly able to even make out the cars in the parking lot.
Him getting wet was the least of his worries. It was you, he was thinking of.
“Fucking hell.”
_
You set the receiver down on the living room table. The ticking of the clock resonating in the silent house before a sigh finally escaping your lips.
Droplets of rain water cloud your vision, cheeks pink from the cold as water dripped onto your wooden floorboards.
Fists clench and unclench around the handle of the umbrella given to you by an old lady at the train station.
“A girl like yourself shouldn’t be alone in the rain, mija” she insisted, letting you take her frilly umbrella as her son would pick her up shortly.
Javier was supposed to pick you up too.
But after forty minutes of standing out in the rainy weather under a flimsy roof as you waited for his truck to pick you up, you disappointedly caught a taxi and drove home by yourself
You were returning from your visit to your sick grandmother. You were her only granddaughter who she called the week prior, telling you how she missed you and wanted you to visit.
Javier insisted you went, not wanting to hold you back and assured he would come to pick you up at the station after the weekend spent with her.
What a fucking liar, you thought to yourself.
You quickly undressed your wet clothes, the outcome of having to have walked in rain to find an available taxi this evening.
You're curious to see the look on Javier’s face when you make him beg on his knees and ask for forgiveness. Maybe you wouldn’t even kiss him tonight, thinking in silence as you prepared for dinner.
You definitely weren’t trying to think about what an excellent opportunity this was to be a brat.
Javier parks into his quiet drive way exactly thirty minutes before 10. That’s thirty minutes of trying to get on your good graces and pray that he wouldn’t be sleeping outside tonight.
When he opens the door to the house, his heart beats fast. Prepared to see you ready to lash out at him, he’s instead surprised with the aromas of spices and your homemade cooking wafting to his nose, unconsciously realizing that he skipped lunch today from how caught up he was with work.
Picking up your wet jacket from the floor, Javier slots his keys and sunglasses in the bowl by the entrance, hanging his own jacket as well before he makes his way quietly to the glowing kitchen.
The stovepot is on a low boil, and he sees you in a long t-shirt, one that you made sure wasn’t his. Your hair is damp, probably from a shower as you swiftly work your hands away in prepping the vegetables.
Javier mumbles quietly in a gruff voice. “You, uh, left your coat on the floor.”
Thwack.
An aggressive chop at the carrots replaces your words, each cut piercing louder like a gunshot ringing in his ears.
“Hermosa, I am so sorry.“ Javier begins sighing because he knows he fucked up real bad this time.
Thwack. You moved onto the chicken meat.
“There’s no excuse baby, I wasn’t keeping track after being cooped up in the office today.” he sighs, brows furrowing as big brown eyes stared into your back.
Thwack. Thwack.
The DEA agent flinches at the sound of the raw chicken being butchered by your swift, angry hands. You’re not facing Javier directly and yet he can already see your glaring eyes. He sighs, not wanting to fight you. He tries to lighten the mood, voice soft as he comments.
“Qué te ha hecho ese pobre pollo”
You don’t reply, let alone acknowledge your husband, continuing to brutally dice the chicken on the cutting board before turning around to wash your hands.
Javier watches you swiftly work in your kitchen, feeling sorry as he still watches you prepare dinner for the two of you after such a long train ride.
He moves forward, rolling his sleeves as he tries to help you . “Querida, I’ll help with the pot-”
The clang of the knife hitting the cutting board echoes in the kitchen, finally looking up to face your husband. Javier leans back, resting against the kitchen counter, arms crossed and gun holsters unremoved after coming home.
You try to ignore how tired he genuinely looks, reminding yourself you were just the same when standing all alone for that one hour.
“Y’know what Javier?” You begin, eyes watering and nose twitching in anger. Javier stays silent, staring at you with sincerity.
“Fuck you” you spit, pointing an accusing finger at the man. “fuck you and your fucking DEA work, Javier”
“Mi-”
“I had to wait forty minutes outside in rainy weather, trying to see if every car passing by would be yours.” you said, voice breaking towards the end. You felt uncomfortable waiting by yourself.
Javier shuts his eyes, forehead wrinkling as he tries to calm you down. He draws your name out in a firm but gentle tone.
You ignore him, replacing his words with your attitude. “You always do this!” you exclaim, voice rising.
“Leaving your wife and family second while you think it’s cool to go and chase criminals while risking your goddamn life.” You mutter, glaring at your husband.
“I didn’t want to leave you at the station all alone, honey. I’ve been sitting at my desk since afternoon drowning in paperwork the higher-ups dumped on us” he presses, eyes sincere but patience wearing thin.
You scoff, shaking your head. “So even stupid paperwork makes you forget your wife.”
Javier pinches his nose bridge, his head pounding as he tries to communicate with you.
You go back to cutting your vegetables, mumbling under your breath. “Who the fuck in Bogotá is giving you credit for slaving away all day trying to catch Escobar, hm?”
The words pierce through Javier’s heart.
Your eyes light up in fake sarcasm. “Oh, I bet it’s the fact that you’re too busy being a fucking doormat to all the younger agents at work aren’t you? What, Murphy said he can’t do his share of the work so he gave you his leftovers?” You spit.
“Hey," Javier snapped, gruffly and darkly. He looked at you, eyes narrowed and dark. "Stop it. I've told you."
Anger gets the best of you as you turn to the cutting board. Grabbing the first thing you saw.
A carrot piece shoots in his way. Javier flinches, the food hitting his chest. Your husband stands there, stunned at his wife’s childish behavior.
“Go fuck yourself, Peña” you say menacingly.
“We don’t throw food in this house, mama” he barks, hands on the hips of his belt, gun and badge tucked in his back. He would never use them on you.
A celery stick slaps Javier in the face this time, making his patience hanging on by a thread even thinner.
Maybe he could whip out the handcuffs.
“Dont you fucking call me that!” you said spitefully, throwing anything and everything you could at the man who dodged your attacks.
“Querida!” Javier raises his voice at you, a growl in his words.
You felt the cold, hard material in your hands for a split second before you’re throwing it at him, almost wondering yourself why you were getting so angry at Javier.
You didn’t want to fight this bad, but at the same time you were sick of watching him work himself to death, forgetting about you. This wasn’t the first time he did something like this.
But you already crossed that line. You both stand in silence, holding your breath as you realized what you threw.
Now it was your turn to fuck things up.
Javier’s lip snarls and his mustache is in a scary frown when he shifts his head.
Only a few inches beside his face lands a dull potato knife, wedged in the kitchen cupboards above. It wouldn’t have worked on anything since it was unsharpened and unused, but the tremendous force you had thrown it with allowed it to have been lodged in the wood.
You gasp, hands flying to cover your mouth.
You both watch Javier slowly raise his hand, pulling the knife inches beside his head with ease before tossing it into the sink. The clatter of the metal blade hitting the sink rings in the kitchen. A swarm of guilt fills your chest as you stand still in fear.
“Javi… I-I’m so sorry” you say, heart beating against your chest, cautiously awaiting a reaction from him.
Javier dusts off the carrot peels on his shoulder, watching as his jaw tenses but shoulders relax.
“Come here.” he all but says quietly. You see Javier reaching for his back pocket, taking out his gun and badge and placing it on the counter.
That wasn’t what scared you.
What scared you was then seeing Javier pull out the silver handcuffs lodged in his back pocket. Your eyes widened at the sight of him playing around with them.
“Javi, I’ll go get the-“
“Come. Here.” Javier cuts you off, staring at you with dark eyes.
You swiftly shake your head, refusing to go. “It was an accident!” You exclaimed, dashing out the kitchen as you tried to escape Javier who was hot on your heels.
“Honey.” he says in a not so endearing way, a warning edge to his voice.
Tears littered your cheeks, knowing that you pushed Javier’s limits and that he would really punish you for how bratty you had been tonight.
You gasp, running up the stairs before strong arms encaged your frame, desperately trying to escape before shrieking in surprise as Javier hoisted you over his shoulder, a loud and painful smack being brought down to your ass by his strong hands. You grimaced, helplessly being brought to the kitchen in swift strides.
”It was an accident, I’m sorry, I was just so angry!” You wailed, groaning as your back hit the carpeted floors of your living room. Your vision was hazy, the dizziness getting to you as you saw Javier leave the room into the kitchen, and come back a few moments later. This time, he was unbuttoning his shirt, his forest of chest hair and strong muscles peeking through.
Javier took a deep breath, eying the way your t-shirt had hiked all the way up so your panties were showing. Your hair spread around your head like a halo, and he noticed how you clenched your thighs together in vulnerability.
“Some accidents need to be punished, baby” he muttered darkly.
You sobbed softly, nose red as you turned your head to the side, looking away from Javi’s menacing look. He didn’t mind, he knew once he was done messing with you, you would be clawing at his chest, begging him to fuck you properly while looking into his eyes. Javier leans down at your level, crawling on your body so he was on top and you were trapped on the bottom. He rips your t-shirt off of you, leaving you in your bare state with panties flimsy enough he could rip them with his teeth. Not today though, he had other things in mind.
He coos at your weak state, dropping his head so he could press a kiss to your sensitive neck, giving a small nip that made you yelp. Two large hands come to play with your nipples, pulling each one hard in between his fingers as you moaned hysterically.
“What did I say about being fucking mean?” He says roughly. He inhales your scent, smelling a sweet sense of fear.
“Carino,” a warm voice calls out, you can feel the grin spreading on Javier’s face. You cry in a mix of pain and pleasure when he flips you on your tummy, cheek pressing against the rough carpet material as Javier slots his hard member encased in his jeans, right by the curve of your ass.
“Answer me, mama”
A clinking of metal makes you cry out in protest. No, you wanted to say, feeling Javier cuff you behind your back like you were one of his petty drug thiefs. But a slap to your ass cheek makes you gasp, eyes shutting as Javier pulls your panties off.
”Being mean gets me punished” you responded softly, a pool of desire aching in your folds as you almost tutted your ass up to show him you were ready. “I’m sorry, Javier” you sniffled quietly, hoping he would hear.
Javier laughs, cocking his head to the side as one hand groped the flesh of your bum, and the other undid his belt buckle. The sound makes your mouth water, wondering if he’ll let you suck him off too for forgiveness.
“So you do know how to be nice?” He groans, giving you no time before his hard members penetrates your entrance, head turning back and eyes rolling when you clenched around his dick so well. “Javier!” You screamed, eyes rolling back in pleasure from the strong stretch.
Your arms ached, desperate for release so you could brace yourself against the floor for every hard thrust your husband would give you.
“Listen carefully, querida” he moans into your ear, humping you as you moaned loudly. “You’re gonna be a good girl and let me fill you up, alright?” When there was no answer, he slapped your cheek again, this time echoing throughout the living room and leaving a red splotch on your ass. “Answer me.” He growled, patience growing thin from your pathetic wailing.
You grit your teeth, hating the fact that you were supposed to be mad at Javier for forgetting about you, and yet here you were receiving back shots with a stinging red ass.
”Yes, Javier” you said back, feeling his girth stretch your walls.
”Good. And once I’m done fucking my pretty wife, you’re gonna suck me off like you mean it. That sounds good mi amor?”
You nodded in return, eyes shut and panting like a slut from the feeling of Javier slowing down his thrusts, deepening every stroke.
“Yes, Javier” you repeated.
He smiled, kissing your neck sweetly, contrasting his hip movements. “Thank you, mama” he replied, cherishing your sweet moans and gasps as he went at a deeper, harder pace.
It’s delirious, the whole situation. You feel as though you’re on cloud nine with the way Javier is so possessive of you, caging you like a butterfly in his garden with the apple of desire.
You felt sinful. You felt glorious. You needed his release to fill you up so badly.
“Javi…” you muttered, tits starting to get carpet burn from being fucked against the ground.
“I know mama, you’re doing so good for me. Taking your lesson so well” he groans, sweat beading at his forehead.
You were aching and begging for orgasm, but feeling Javier rut into you so passionately made it all worth it. It dissolved any anger, any resentment from earlier because you knew how good he could take care of you.
“You’re so fucking mean sometimes, you know that?” he tells you, brows furrowed and concentrated on fucking the daylights out of you. You could feel the handprints marking your hips, wondering how many of Javier’s marks would be on you tomorrow morning.
“I know” you sigh, feeling a slap come down on your ass as you groan louder.
“You’re so fucking stubborn sometimes, you know that too?” you pant, squirming under your cuffs. Javier shudders, your walls sucking him a little too well.
“I know.” He says back gruffly.
Javier feels the knot untying in his stomach, too late to tell you verbally as you felt his warm seed leak inside, cumming first.
“Merida”
You were also close, loving how despite already coming, Javier was fucking you so that you could cum too.
”I’m gonna” you pant, forgetting to finish your words as you felt hot liquid threatening to spill from every stroke he made in your hole.
Javier whispers, pressing ticklish kisses from his mustache to your bare shoulder. “Cum on my cock, baby, you know what to do” he muttered, both of you groaning loudly as both your releases became mixed inside you.
“Oh fuck, Javi!” you scream, hair a mess and pussy aching.
You feel dizzy, used but happy, shivering as a large sludge of your cum spills out and drips down your thigh to the carpet.
Javier is quick to lap you up with his tongue, slotting his face in your ass as he filthily cleans you up.
“Can you get these off me, please?” you ask him meekly, relishing the feeling of your sensitive wrists when they touch the cool air.
Your husband presses a kiss to each one, marking your ass and shoulders with playful hickeys and bruises.
You both catch your breath for a moment, Javier turning you over so you were facing the ceiling, your sensitive tits perking up.
It’s all so sudden but before you two realize it, you’re latching onto each other immediately, hungrily sharing a kiss as your arms wrap around his neck.
“Hermosa,” he tries to begin, before being shushed by you, pulling him back in to lovingly kiss your husband.
Sure, rough sex was great, but god did you love just kissing Javier absentmindedly. You had to touch each other, kiss each other, that was how you two made up.
“Lo siento, hermosa” he sighs, wanting to get lost in your embrace. You smile, knowing that Javier is sincere. “Me too.” You reply, voices hushed as it was now later in the night, the neighbors probably aware of what had happened next door. A moment passes.
“Didn’t you say you wanted me to suck you off?” you asked innocently, gazing up at Javier as your head rested on his chest.
He grins, softly whispering a later as he played with your hair, cock soft against his thigh as your leg nudges it playfully.
He growls, nipping your ear. “Behave” he says firmly, cheeks rosy. This time you listen.
“Who picked you up today then if I didn’t come?” Javi asks, reaching over to wrap a blanket around you two near the fireplace.
You smile, knowing that you can’t always listen to Javier’s warnings. “Just some cute young taxi driver. Asked me for my number y’know” you grinned.
Javier looks down, eyes darkening as he mutters softly. “Unless you’re gonna be a brat again, you better watch yourself” he reaches for your mound, cupping you softly so you moan in pleasure, still sensitive from the previous activities. He hoists you above his stomach, feeling your nails scratch his pudge and bend down as you give him a kiss. “I’m just messing with you” you giggle, a familiar feeling coming back when his bare cock is nestled by your thighs. “He was old. A grandpapi” you said, feeling his hands roam the flesh of your ass.
You press a hand against Javier’s chest, giggling as you peck his jawline. He rolls his eyes, hands wrapping around your waist instinctively.
“I missed you.” he mutters, feeling you up.
You smile, remembering how warm it is on top of your husband before you shut your eyes softly.“Me too.”
You look up, apologizing to him. “Sorry for almost stabbing you with that knife”
You feel the vibrations and sounds of a loud chuckle, Javier holding on to you. “It was an accident” you mumble, circling shapes on his skin. He knows.
You make up for it by leaning in, pressing kisses under the shell of his ear. Whispering how you’ll let him stuff his cock in your mouth again to get even.
Fuck it, he thinks. He’d let you kill him anyday.
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papurgaatika · 1 month
Text
Nothing Fucks With My Baby
Pairing: Joel Miller x F! Reader
A/N: This got so out of hand so fast, but it is FINALLY here. This is for all my Joel girlies with crazy daddy issues, I see you and I get you. I really didn’t mean for the first half of this fic to be so angst-filled, but I think the smut is a good trade-off for it in the end. AS ALWAYS humongous shoutout to my beloved beta readers @joelsdagger and @carlynkurin yall kill me with your comments and I love yall so much. And yes the title is a Hozier lyric, I love that guy. Remember that TLOU is created by a zionist so please look at the resources at the end of this fic and in my bio on ways to donate and educate yourself!! Tags: daddy issues, minor misogyny, minor body shaming, angst, Joel wants to beat up reader’s dad, age gap, daddy kink, pillow humping, exhibitionism if you squint, oral (f receiving), Joel Miller’s filthy mouth, breeding kink, cumplay kinda, protective Joel, no outbreak AU, no use of Y/N Word Count: 5.3k
Visiting your parents with Joel for the first time brings up some bad memories. And lets you make a few good ones too.
(aka Joel hates your parents and fucks you in your childhood bedroom)
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Your fingers stilled over your phone, minor panic setting into your bones when you got a text from your mother asking you to come over for dinner with her and your father. Now you loved your parents and you think they loved you too, in whatever weird way they showed it, but your relationship with them was never amazing. They were overbearing when you lived with them, always expecting the most of you but never recognizing what you actually did, like you were never going to be enough in their eyes. You were a grown woman, a degree in hand, and jobs lined up, but with rent at an all-time high and entry-level positions barely paying enough, you had sucked it up for as long as you could and continued to live with them. The passive-aggressive remarks about their friends’ kids moving out and about your degree essentially being a waste barely mattered anymore, you kept your head down and didn't engage unless you really had to. Your daydreams of moving out and being independent dwindled a little with every snide comment your father made, but you were living rent-free so you didn't say anything. 
But then you met Joel, and Joel couldn’t see a single flaw in you, his perfect angel. You weren’t even planning on dating anyone, especially not someone this much older than you, but there was just something about him that drew you in. You could still remember the day you met him like yesterday. You had been driving home after taking a much-needed weekend to go see one of your friends from college and managed to run over a nail and saw your tire pressure going down. You had pulled over and contemplated calling your father, but the idea of him driving out to lecture you on being a better driver and why he thinks women shouldn't drive just gave you a headache. So, being the self-determined woman you were, you got out of your car, popped on a YouTube video on how to change a tire, and knelt next to your car. 
Granted, the video wasn’t helping you out much, and your headache was getting worse under the blistering Austin sun, and you felt the tears start to brim in your eyes as you rested your head against the door of your car. You were seconds away from sucking it up and calling your father when you heard a gentle, “Do you need any help, ma’am?” You’re not one to usually take help from men, especially not random men on the side of the road, but your head was pounding and your eyes were red, and something about his voice just put you at ease. So you sigh and nod, explaining how you really did try to change it, but it just wasn't working and he shoots you the prettiest smile you’ve ever seen in your life. “I’ve got it for ya don’t worry, it’s just a tire ‘ain't worth those tears.” 
You stand to the side as he kneels down to take a look at the damage before standing back up and grabbing the tools from your trunk. His arms were working on unscrewing the bolts of your (now useless) tire, and you couldn’t help but stare at them. His sleeves were pulled taut over his biceps and beads of sweat were rolling down his tanned skin. You watched as the fabric of his shirt clung to his belly and his gray-streaked hair grew damp from the heat, finding yourself unconsciously biting your lip when your eyes linger on the veins that strained under his arms. He lets out a soft grunt when he gets off the ground and turns to look at you. “I don't think it’ll be safe to drive on your spare sweetheart, let me call you a tow.” 
“Oh! No, it’s okay really,” your eyes go wide and your brows furrow as you try to figure out how much it would cost and who you would even call to come pick you up, but he’s already dialing a number into his phone and telling them they owe him a favor before hanging up and giving you another smile. “You really didn’t have to do that-” Your words falter because you realize you don’t know his name.
“Joel. And I couldn't let ya deal with it yourself, my mama raised me better than that.” You blush softly at his words, genuinely grateful to have met him. You let out a breath, your tears having subsided and your heart rate finally calming down before sitting back down on the ground, fully expecting Joel to walk back to his truck and head out, but are instead met with a frown when you look back over at him. “Can't just leave you here like this sweetheart,” he sighs looking down at you, “Let me take ya to the garage at least, just so I know you’re safe.” 
Quite honestly, you weren’t used to someone treating you with this much care and attentiveness, you weren’t sure what to do with it. But the worried look in his eyes and the warmth of his voice have you nodding, taking his hand and getting into his truck to go to the garage with him. You sit in surprisingly comfortable silence for the next few minutes until you decide to be bold and ask for his number “Well, just in case my tire pops again” Your words are matched with a small grin playing on your lips, and JoeL, well joel was a goner the moment you had said those words. 
You and Joel had moved relatively fast, only being together for about eight months before you were packing your stuff and moving in with him. He had heard all about your parents before then. He saw the tears that fell after a fight with them, heard the words they threw at you while you recounted to him, and he could never imagine treating someone, especially not someone as perfect as you, like that. He could recount how many times you would curl up into him, breathing in his scent to try and calm down while he ran a soothing hand over your back and told you it was going to be okay. So it was no surprise that he had a few choice words when you mentioned that your mother had asked you both to come over. “Dunno how civil I’ll manage to be, sweet girl” he groans into your shoulder, arm draped over your middle as y'all lay in bed. You giggle softly and tilt your head to the side so it’s leaning on top of his slightly. 
“Gonna have to be,” you catch his fingers in your own, running circles over the rough skin to soothe yourself. “I haven’t seen them since I moved out... I just want them to be okay with us I guess.” A sigh leaves your lips when you think about how displeased they used to be about anything that you ever did growing up, that displeasure skyrocketing when you started seeing Joel. 
You feel him still your fingers, taking your hand and wrapping it with his own, before shifting to look at you fully. “I can’t promise they’ll be okay, sweet girl, but just know I’m in it with you forever okay?” He brings your hand to his lips and presses a tender kiss to your knuckles and you feel your eyes start to water as you nod. “Now, we don’t need to think ‘bout it for a while, lets get some sleep yeah?” You curl into his side and mumble out a soft okay before letting yourself drift off, feeling the weight of his arm draped around you. 
The rest of the week passed with relative ease, you were busy with work and Joel had been doting over you more than usual to keep your mind off of things. Eventually, Friday rolls around and you find yourself in Joel’s truck fidgeting with the rings on your fingers, heart pounding in your chest. You’re staring out the window lost in the endless stream of anxiety that is your brain, until you feel Joel's hand, warm and heavy, running small circles on your knee. You let your hand rest on top of his, basking in the intimacy of it all before he pulls up to your old house. You can feel your breathing start to quicken, chewing on the inside of your lip, before looking over at him. “Wait, baby, can we go back, I can’t do this. I’m not ready,” your words were tumbling over each other, panic clear on your face. 
“Hey, hey, look at me angel. It’s gonna be okay. We can do this okay?” His hands are on your cheeks making you look at him, and you subconsciously lean into his touch. “I don’t like them any more than you do, but I’ll try to be on my best behavior, and if we go in and you wanna leave at any time, we’re outta here okay?” He breathes out a small sigh of relief when you nod, a small giggle leaving your lips at his words. You take one last steadying breath before throwing open the door of the truck, smoothing out your outfit, and letting the flowers you had picked up for your mother rest in your arms. 
You knock at the door and feel your nerves setting in again, but Joel's hand is holding yours and you feel like he’s pulling you back down to the ground again, keeping you steady. You’re both met with a loud laugh and are pulled in for a hug when your mother opens the door. “Oh! Sweetheart, it’s been so long since I’ve seen you! You certainly look like you’re eating well.” You did not miss those passive-aggressive comments at all, so you hand her the flowers with a tight-lipped smile, mumbling something about just having more time to make the food you enjoy, 
And being the attentive boyfriend that he is, Joel senses your discomfort immediately. He turns on his southern charm and throws one of those gorgeous smiles at your mother, complimenting her cooking and how good it smells in here. “If her cooking is any indicator, I’ll be asking for a to-go bag tonight.” Your mother just blushes and goes on about how her food isn’t that good but she hopes he likes it. You grin, watching the two of them interact helping your nerves dissipate slightly. Joel was always a charmer, that’s why you were drawn to him, he knew how to make you feel safe which was something you had seldom felt in this house. 
You’re sitting on one of the chairs, head leaning against his shoulder while he laughs at something your mother says. It finally feels like you can breathe like you don't have to put your guard up because Joel does it for you. And then suddenly it’s like the floor is being ripped out from under you as your father makes his way downstairs. It was like you were 16 again begging to get his approval for anything, waiting for the day someone would whisk you out of that house. You sit up straight and move your head from Joel’s shoulder and let your eyes dart to his, and he is visibly angry. Joel knows about your father, the fights and the screaming matches, the way you were so similar it made you sick, and he just could never understand how someone would ever treat their child that way.
Now your father isn’t necessarily short but Joel was looming over him, eyes burning daggers in his direction as you both stood up to greet him. Joel’s hand envelopes your fathers in a grip that looks like it could break a bone and you give your father a curt nod and however much of a smile you can muster up with a quiet “hi dad.” only to be met with a grunt like you weren’t even worth sparing a few words to say hello to before muttering and going to sit on the couch. “It's alright Joel… he’s just like that baby... let it go.” you manage to press a kiss to his cheek to let him know you’re alright, it wasn’t like you were expecting the world's warmest greeting anyway. 
Joel tries to let it go. He really tries for you. But it is so hard being nice to someone who hurt the person you love. So he brings up Sarah, not out of spite really, he just loves to talk about his girl. “Comes up to visit almost every month, jobs got her real busy though,” he says, taking a sip of beer, eyes focussed on your father across the table. “Couldn't go without seein’ her.” Joel’s face immediately brightens up when he talks about Sarah, the pride he feels for his girl sparkling behind his eyes. 
Your father is not a man who is good at hiding his emotions, anger, and resentment showing clearly on his face. “‘M sure it’s nice to have a daughter who amounts to somethin’,” you feel your blood go cold for a moment, tears stinging in your eyes as you duck your head down to look at your plate very carefully. Joel’s hand is immediately squeezing yours, bringing you back down to earth, back to him. You take a deep breath to respond, but before you even get the chance, Joel’s voice is hurdling at your father. 
“Sure is. You’d understand what it would feel like if ya made any effort to be in her life.” The silence in the room is eerie. You cannot remember a single time in your life when your father didn’t have something to say, something to hurl at you in a fit of anger, only to claim it never happened after the fact. You feel Joel squeeze your hand again as your father shoves a forkful of food into his mouth, not making eye contact with either of you. Your mother just looks between Joel and your father silently, apparently still unwilling to stand up for you. You press your eyes shut for a moment at the absurdity of it all; the absurdity of bringing Joel to meet your parents, of him trying to defend you, at the idea that you had truly believed that your parents would have changed. You knew better than to hope for things like that. 
The rest of the dinner passes in relative silence, save for a few questions your mother asks Joel about his work and a minor argument that ensues because Joel mentions his love for the UT Longhorns after your father brings up his love for the Aggies. You roll your eyes at Joel when he throws up the Hook ‘Em hands before you get up to wash the dishes, only stopping when Joel tugs at your wrist. You look down at where he’s sitting, eyebrows raised at you because you're well aware that washing the dishes is his job “Baby it’s okay, I'll just do them today”
Joel just shakes his head and pulls at your wrist again, essentially pulling you back into your chair. “Don’t think so angel, you know that’s my job,” you giggle with a small nod of your head before the both of you turn to look at your father who is scoffing from his seat. “‘S there a problem?” 
Your father rolls his eyes at Joel, clearly still upset about how dinner went. “Just think you should let the woman do the woman’s job, ain't yours to do.” Your father barks that out with such ease that Joel thinks he sees red for a second. He grew up helping his mamma around the house when he was younger and became even more fond of cooking and cleaning when Sarah was born, so it is safe to say that he doesn’t agree with the idea that housework is a “woman's job.”
You know how Joel feels about this but your father is getting irritated again and you’re not sure if you’ll be able to take another argument between them, so you’re trying to grab the plates from Joel again. But stubborn as he is, Joel does not let up, especially if it means letting your father think that he’s right. “I don’t think so, sweet girl. Ain’t the 1950’s anymore, if you’re too pussy to wash a dish wouldn’t consider you a real man.” Your mouth falls open slightly, and you try to bite back your smile when your father huffs and gets up from the table muttering something about not knowing a real man if it bit him in the ass. 
You finish helping your mother put leftovers in the fridge, save for a bag filled to the brim with leftovers for Joel, and catch a glimpse of Joel smirking happily to himself while the sink runs hot over his hands. You sneak behind him and press a kiss on his shoulder blade, letting your hands snake around his waist. “I’ll be honest baby, kinda hot watching you tell him off like that..” You hear him huff out a laugh before he shuts the water off and spins you around in his arms, pressing a kiss to your lips before letting his mouth drop to your neck. You giggle as he nips at your skin lightly, but push him off gently after a moment. “They’re gonna see you, Mr. Miller, gonna get me in trouble.”
“Is that so?” his hands are on your waist, prints from the water on your shirt. He grins down at you, eyes glinting with mischief. “let ‘em see baby, not their little girl anymore, all mine now.” He presses another kiss to your neck, finding the spot right above your pulse point and drawing a small mewl from between your lips, before standing up straight and letting go of your waist, a grin plastered to his face. 
“You’re an absolute menace, you know that?” You squint your eyes at him, poking a finger into his chest, eliciting a laugh to tumble from his mouth. You give him a small kiss again and find yourself smiling into it. “‘M ready to go home now baby,” you murmur against the plush of his lips, wanting to feel his hands on your body again. Joel simply nods and grabs your purse for you while you say an awkward goodbye to your parents. You take your purse from his hands and open the door only to be met with the sight of rain. You were used to how quickly Austin would flood when a storm hit, you had grown up with it, but you hadn’t checked the weather and this was certainly dampening your plans to go home. 
You turn around to face Joel, eyebrows furrowed and before either of you can say anything your mother is swooping in. “Well, now I cannot send you two out in this weather! I have your old room set up still, and Joel can take the guest room!” Your eyes lock with Joel's, taking in the look of shock on his face. You should have assumed that your parents would be weird about letting Joel stay in the same room as you, despite living with him, but you were still caught off guard. 
You say your goodnights and thank yous, your father’s grip on Joel’s hand dangerously tight, before showing Joel up to the guest room giggling about having to be apart for the night. “Dunno how I’ll be able to sleep without you angel,” he groans sitting down on the old guest bed. 
You roll your eyes and kiss the scar on his nose “Sure you’ll be okay for one night cowboy, I’ll see you in the morning, ‘kay?” He just scrunches up his nose in response and plants a few more kisses on your lips before letting you walk out to your room. You can hear him exaggerate a sigh as you close the door and walk back to your old bedroom. You grin to yourself before walking into your room, taking in the sight of what used to be yours. Your hands skim over your dresser, the drawers mostly empty from when you packed in haste to move in with Joel, dried petals from the last bouquet of flowers he had gotten you still sitting in a small jewelry box. Pink sheets, pink pillows, and at least five stuffed animals still sit in their perfect setting on your bed, and a pang of guilt for leaving them bubbles up inside of you. You sigh and pull out an old shirt from the drawer and slip into it, foregoing pants and just staying in your panties. 
You spread out on the bed making futile attempts to fall asleep. It wasn’t like you needed Joel to be next to you, but you missed his hand draped around your waist and the way his body was a literal furnace to the point where you had to take the blankets off. Your mind cannot stop thinking about him. The way his hand was on the small of your back when you came into the house, the way he stood up for you when your father was speaking, the taste of his lips when he pulled you in for one last kiss before you left his room. You let your fingers trail down your body, sneaking into your panties and letting out a shaky sigh when you feel the slick pooling between your legs, eyes falling shut for a moment before situating a pillow between your legs. You press your face softly into one of the stuffed animals Joel had given you, the smell of him just barely lingering in it, and start to grind your hips down on the pillow. Your breath hitches when you feel the pressure on your clit through your panties, moans muffled by the bunny as you grind your hips down chasing your pleasure. Your eyes are still shut imagining Joel, lost in your pleasure until you hear a low whistle behind you, making your head whip around, your heart pounding a mile a minute. 
And there he is. Joel is leaning against your door, when he got in is beyond you, his eyes are hungry and locked in on you, eyebrows raising when you stop to turn around. “Why’re you stopping, baby? Go on, put on a show for me.” Your mouth opens to answer, but he’s cutting you off with a small tsk and a shake of his head “Nuh-uh. Don't get shy on me now, sweet thing, keep going.” His voice leaves no room for discussion, and his hands are on your waist pulling you flush with the pillow again. You whine when his hands leave your body, and try to turn around to grab at him. He pins your hips back down to the pillow, a low noise leaving his throat. “Like you were before, wanna see what you used to do when you miss me” 
A whimper leaves your mouth and you lay your head back down on the bed, pussy grinding on the pillow again. You move your hips back and forth, breathing becoming heavier as you angle your hips a bit higher and you bite back a whine as you clench around nothing “Joel please-” you plead, looking up at him over your shoulder with wide eyes,  “want you to touch me,” A small shudder movies through your body as you whine at him again. 
He just shakes his head at you, eyes not leaving your clothed cunt, “Not yet baby.” He brings his hands back to your waist and traces small circles into the skin just above your panties. 
  “but-” You keep grinding but throw a pout at him trying to get his decision to sway. 
He swats at your ass, not hard enough to leave a mark but enough to be a good warning “You arguing with me baby?” His eyebrows are raised, the look in his eyes not one that wants to deal with a brat tonight. 
You shake your head with a pitiful no sir and keep grinding on the pillow, your panties fully drenched by now. You feel your hips start to stutter as your climax catches up with you, a sheen of sweat covering your body. Your stomach is clenching and your breaths are ragged, “Joel- fuck gonna cum, oh god- fuck-” You babble at him, words muffled, legs trembling lightly, and eyes falling shut as you’re hit with your orgasm, face falling into the stuffed bunny again. 
You try to steady your breaths after coming down from your high, eyes still closed until you feel his hands sneak around your waist and under your shirt, grabbing your tits softly. “Fuck, you’re such a filthy girl, probably did this all the time when you thought about me? Desperate fucking thing.” You groan into his touch, and arch your back into him when he pulls you flush against his chest. He grabs at the hem of your shirt, before pulling it off and tossing it to one of the corners of the room, fingers playing with your sensitive nipples. You let out a squeak when he tugs at them before he lets go and presses his hand over your mouth. “Quiet. Gonna wake up your parents, or is that what you want, hmm?” His hand dips into your panties, rough fingers swirling over your clit “wanna get caught in the room you grew up in?” 
A whine leaves your mouth, muffled behind his hand, as you try to grind into his fingers. He brings his hand back to your nipple, flicking at the nub and making you jump. “Joel please- need it” You plead as he circles your clit. 
Joel pauses, drawing a pathetic whimper to leave your lips. “Came already and want another one? Greedy fucking thing” You nod at his words before yelping when he throws you down onto the bed and pulls you down to the edge of the bed by your ankles. He throws your legs over his shoulders and you buck your hips into the air, trying to catch his touch. He rests his head on the plush of your thigh, eyes on yours, waiting for you to ask for what you want. 
Your eyes are pleading with his, hoping that you can get out of having to beg by batting your lashes at him. “I’ll be so good for you, please.” your lip trembles a bit, hips still moving in the air, trying to get into his mouth. He relents and his lips press against your thighs, his stubble scratching at it gently, before pressing a kiss to your clit, making you jump softly. “Fuckk thank you.” Your head falls back as his tongue sweeps over your weeping cunt, his arm pinning your hips down to keep you from bucking into his face. 
His tongue dips into your slit, making your back arch off the bed as your hands fist in his hair. His lips wrap around your clit, and your hand clamps over your mouth to stop the obscene noises you were making from leaving it. His fingers tease your entrance before slipping into you and thrusting in and out at the same pace he was flicking his tongue. You feel your thighs start to tremble and clench around his head, your grip on his hair growing tighter as you feel your second orgasm hit you, red hot in the bottom of your spine, and up to the tingling in your fingers. Joel’s pace does not slow down as he coaxes you through it, hitting all the right spots. “Fuck look at her baby.” He says pulling his fingers out of you and spreading your slick over your pussy. “Fucking weeping for me. I’ll give her what she needs don't worry” 
His fingers press against your lips, and you let them into your mouth, tasting yourself off of him and groaning at the taste. He drags his spit-covered fingers down your chest, relishing in the fucked out look on your face. He takes off his jeans letting his cock spring free, dumb bastard going commando at your parents' house, and spits into his hand before fisting his cock in your line of sight. You whine at him, pouting your lips at him, cunt dripping down your thighs onto your bed. He chuckles at you and brings his hands to your waist, before slipping his cock into you, a hiss leaving your lips at the stretch. “Look at that sweet girl, taking me so well.” He moves so his cock is buried to the hilt in your cunt, the coarse hair that surrounds him pressing into your pelvis. 
You try to rock against him, to gain any friction. “Joel please move... please I want it” You plead with him, hands moving to wrap around his wrist. “Gonna be so good for you Daddy, please” And that does him in. He lets out a groan and thrusts into you with enough force to move your headboard. His cock is hitting you in just the right spot, filling you up almost too much. 
You feel yourself clench around him as his hand tightens around your waist, one of your legs wrapped around his back, pulling him in deeper. “Gonna fill you up so good angel,” he says as your pussy clenches around him like it was begging for his cum. “Make you all mine, show everyone who you belong to,” his thrusts are growing messier, and you can feel another orgasm building in the pit of your stomach, and it’s almost too much. Your toes curl and you meet his thrusts as you let out a pathetic slew of pleasepleasepleaseplease before you feel him cumming inside you with a soft pant of your name. You feel him pull out of you slowly, his cock replaced with his fingers. “Said I was gonna make you mine, gotta make sure it takes.” His fingers collect the cum that leaks out of you in the most obscene way and pushes it back into you, as a shaky breath leaves your lips at the depravity of his words. 
“Fuck thank you, baby,” You manage to get out after what feels like an eternity of recovering from your orgasm. Joel shoots you a sleepy grin, before wrapping his clean hand around yours and laying his head down on your chest, looking up at you with love in his eyes. 
“I should be thanking you, sweet girl. Did so fucking good for me” You grin and look down at him with sleepy eyes and run a hand through his hair. 
“You know you gotta get back to the guest room right?” You ponder, realizing the situation that you were in. The idea of your mother waking up to find you naked and stuffed full of Joel’s cum was horrifying. 
Joel just grins back up at you, pressing a kiss to the underside of your breast before pushing himself up off your bed and peeking at the window. “Dunno baby.. Rain stopped a while ago, I'm ready to just get outta here.” He raises his eyebrows at you, sliding back into his jeans as you drop your arm over your face with a dopey smile playing across your lips. 
“So long as you carry me to the truck, I'm game, baby” You bite your lip and smile up at him as he tosses your dress at you before he scoops you up and tromps down the stairs quietly and puts you into the passenger seat before getting in and pulling out of the driveway. “Thank you for being there tonight baby.. I love you.”
Joel just smiles at you, half asleep in his passenger’s seat, and runs a hand over your knee before grabbing your hand and pressing a kiss to it. “Love you too angel. Don’t plan on ever making you come up here again though” You just giggle and lace your fingers through his, extremely content to just spend the rest of your days with Joel, not worried about your parents.
A/N: From the river to the sea, Palestine will be free READ: This account stands with Palestine unequivocally, and so— I require everyone who interacts to educate themselves, and support/donate. READ THESE; 1, HELP HERE, BOYCOTT. silence is complicity, do not scroll past this. DO NOT BUY THE REMASTER, TLOU2, TLOU1, OR ANY GAME FROM NAUGHTY DOG! neil druckmann (the creator) is a zionist. PLEASE READ THIS. AND REBLOG THIS.  Thank you for reading, and free Palestine
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pascals-doll · 2 months
Text
like a virgin
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joel miller x reader
🫧 inspired by madonnas like a virgin MY MADONNA CONCERT IS COMING UP I-
🫧 i always make my writings for joel so long but i love this man smm i could write all day for him it dont even b on purpose 😩
🫧 description: pre-outbreak!joel, babysitter!reader, reader babysits sarah, semi-fluff, DILF JOEL DILFFF, age gap (joel is 36 and reader is early 20s), smut smut, SMUT SMUTTT, dom!joel, softdom!joel(ugh i need so bad),sub!reader, hella praise kink, reader and joel are obessesed w each other tbh, secret crushing, body worship (reader reciving/ slight joel), pussy eating, possessive!joel, unprotected sex, p in v sex, hair pulling (j recieving), tommy is a teasing p.o.s 😭, no use of y/n, use of nicknames (sweetheart, darlin, and sweet girl).
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you stepped into the miller’s residence weekly to babysit his daughter Sarah, she was the sweetest teen girl. she reminded you a bit of yourself when you were her age which was probably the cause of the instant connection.
you had been baby-sitting for almost 8 months now, leading to getting closer to Joel; Sarah’s dad.
Joel was more than a hunk of a man, he towered over you even with your heeled mary-janes at times, his broad build engulfing all his clothing making him look like a slutty construction worker with his roughed up baggy-blue jeans thats sinched around his waist perfectly.
you would be lying if you wouldn’t oogle the man while his attention was pulled onto something else. you would watch the way he talked so sweetly to Sarah, yet when it came to a phone call, his neighbor, a stranger or his brother, Tommy that would occasionally stop by.
Joel would have this assertive and unruly tone underneath that thick southern accent. he was a man that paid close attention in his life which is why he has allowed you to take care of his daughter with so much trust.
you would never know it but Joel cherished you and the things you do.
Joel would show it in very discreet ways, today was a prime a example.
“m’havin a famiy cookout later t’night, why don’t you head on home to rest, so you can come back to enjoy with us.” Joel invitied you with ease as you began to grab your belongings from his coat-rack near his front door.
you grabbed your purse, walking towards the sound of his voice which was right around the corner. Joel was standing in his wide living room.
“it would be more than my pleasure. thank you for everything again. im always very appreciative for sarah and you” you thanked him sweetly, eyes meeting his.
he stood next to his large bookcase that had an assortment of different books, personal objects, some cds/dvds, and his vinyls.
joel picked up a vinyl, sliding out of the slot in the shelving of his bookcase, pulling it out of the envelope, and placing it on the record player.
yet another instance, where you accidentally ogle him.
“the real thank you should be t’ya. im adjustin’ to single parentin’ and ya’ been very accommodatin’, thank you.”
your kind demeanor was the sweetner to his coffee.
you were now home, getting dressed to return to the Miller’s residence.
usually when you’re babysitting, you dressed lazily. you would put on a random shirt and jeans or sweats.
you wanted to cleanup a bit more, knowing it wasnt just going to be you and sarah most of the day; Joel would be there.
you threw on this cute blue floral sundress that was mid-length, it stopped right below your cross necklace.
you finished up by pairing it with white frilly socks with mid-heeled black flats.
you didn’t put much makeup on, only putting the basics before doing any last touch-ups and grabbing your black mini-purse.
𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪
once you arrived, opening the gate and greeting a few of the people that were sitting on the porch before entering through the front door.
the sound of chatter got louder as you walked through his home. you turned around to the corner and his living room was empty but his kitchen was cluttered with different food and grill necessities.
you thought to yourself how they must be outside, you began to walk farther into his home till the back where the sliding door to his backyard was.
you began to slide the door open “oh my!! you came!” sarah squealed out of excitement, she came from restroom door next to the side of his sliding door.
you immediately engulfed the excited girl that ran into your arms “i wouldn’t miss it for the world, girl!” you exclaim while smiling.
“c’mon! my dad is outside grilling!” sarah spoke excitedly. she grabbed your hand as you opened the door and walked outside together.
𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪
“d’ya invite that sweet babysitter of yours?” Tommy asks joel while seasoning the steak “i did, i hope she comes-you know, for sarah and all” Joel tries to play off with his words.
“oh my brother fancy’s someone, i see” Tommy chuckles out, putting his beer bottle up in the air slightly.
“i do not fuckin’fancy that young lady. she’s gone above and beyond for my daughter and i just wanted her to feel welcome” Joel explains himself, his tone laced with angry yet getting his explaination a across a bit hastily. Tommy’s eyebrow quirks.
“don’t say nothin’ else” Joel utters out in a stern tone, grabbing his cold corona as Tommy puts his hands up in defence.
Tommy turned his head, not the best decision as it made his amusement grow fonder. he turns back to Joel.
“well, ya’look at that brother” Tommy slys out, throwing a wink at his older brother before making his way back to his wife Maria.
It was you and sarah approaching, Joel actually choked on his sip of beer.
you were beautiful, Joel wasn’t an oblivious man.
Joel, himself even thought it was impressive how easily you cleaned yourself up by just some jeans and sweatshirt; at times just a shirt.
tonight was different, very different.
Joel finally has seen you outside of your different hoodies and pants.
he couldn’t begin to comprehend as you and sarah got closer and closer “Dad! she made it” sarah calls him out in excitement.
you finally approached him next to his griller which caused him to immediately snap out of his gaze.
Joel gave you his hand to shake “thank you so much for having me” you thank him, sweetly accepting as you began to shake pulling you in for a soft side hug.
you were right beside him, feeling the heat of the fire from the grill on both of you.
in Joel’s eyes, up close, your beauty was now beyond otherworldly. your light blue sundress bringing out the color of your eyes, the way your hair fell on your shoulders, and your jewlery sparkiling the tone of your skin.
you looked so elegant, yet you still managed to keep it simple. your winged liner making you look more mature than just the light mascara you would rush onto your lashes before getting out of your car on babysitting days.
Joel couldn’t begin to wrap it around his mind how you could possibly look so pure yet you were a woman. a hard-working one at that.
he knew that. it was something that made him desire you which felt so wrong.
“anytime, ya deserve to be apart of the family-shit! ya’already are” Joel goes off a bit nervously after ogling you. you gave him a soft smile.
“did’ya need help with the grill?” you quickly perk in as the fire began to sizzle a tad bit louder than usual “ah shit!” Joel exclaims, flipping each of the steak.
“careful now, brother! dont burn ‘em!” Tommy calls out, laughing with a devious smirk as he approaches again with cooler in hand.
Joel grumbled something under his under his breath as he focused on the grill.
“nice to meet you, i’ve heard s’much about you! I’m Joel’s brother, Tommy.” the younger brother introduces himself.
you give him your hand to shake “It is nice to meet the uncle tommy” you joke out causing sarah to giggle with you.
Joel couldn’t begin to explain the beauty you carried within you.
he was sure that if a god made you, it was Hestia and Aphrodite.
𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪
the evening was pleasantly spent by you getting to meet maria and her pregnant belly, congratulating her.
then once it was time to serve the dinner, you helped Joel and Tommy by moving the grilled food off of the grill.
this consisted of Tommy making jokes that had slight insinuating under-tones that you were too naive to pick up but laugh everytime Joel would punch Tommy’s shoulder roughly, not being playful at all.
you helped bring in the food as sarah set up the dining table. once everything was set up and everyone sat down to eat, Joel’s grilling being beyond splendid.
when dinner was over while everyone cleaned up, you went to use the restroom.
you finished using up the restroom which is how you were now in Joel’s living room.
you began to admire his large bookcase from where he stood earlier to invite you.
you skimmed through, your hands softly going over the objects as you observed his books, framed pictures, his collection of dvds, and then his vinyls.
you had a record player of your own, sometimes sarah would ask you to play bon jovi and tell you where the record was.
Joel had an impressive collection, ranging to every genre of music. he had some legends on vinyls like Bob Marley, Johnny Cash, Lionel Richie, and Madonna.
you immediately picked up the Madonna vinyl, it was her second album ‘Like a Virgin’.
you grew up with your mom adoring Madonna more than anything which explains your adoration for her music.
“I was in highschool when i first heard Madonna” a deep voice spoke through the room, behind you.
you automatically knew it was Joel, turning around still looking at the tracklist on the back of his vinyl “this is my favorite album besides Like a Prayer” you say as you walk up to him, smiling.
“you weren’t even born yet” Joel laughs out causing you to jokingly get offended.
“excuse me, i know my Madonna” you joke back, giving him a playful wink which he just gave you a slight chuckle too.
“she say she know she Madonna, ay?” he gives you a slight smile, opening up his record player before inserting the vinyl.
soon enough the record player began to ring a classic 80s pop beat through the room.
you automatically felt yourself slightly popping your leg with the beat and snapling your fingers slightly.
“go ahead, Mr.80s” you state smiling, inviting him to dance “oh no, i-don’t dance” Joel quirks out awkwardly, now standing nervous.
Joel admired your confidence and comfortabilty in your skin, you were so young and full of life while also being so sophisticated and methodical.
you grab Joels hands and began to playfully sway with him.
Oh, like a virgin
Touched for the very first time
Like a virgin
When your heart beats next to mine
🫧
you sang the melodious lyrics under your breath. you felt your breath hitch as you locked eyes with joel, being in his grasp.
you could feel your body burn up in his strong hold, his heavy hand on the small of your waist.
your breath hitched causing your chest to push up against his chest. this felt so right, the way his hands held your body and each of your curves.
🫧
You're so fine, and you're mine
Make me strong, yeah, you make me bold
Oh, your love thawed out
Yeah, your love thawed out
What was scared and cold
Joel made you feel more than a woman, you were so polish and refined, yet so sophisticated and mature while all-looking ever so young and full of life.
he felt a bit of confidence which made him twirl you around, engulfing you into his embrace again with one arm; your back to his chest now.
you swore the sound of the song was slowly drowning out and now the sexual tension was ringing through the both of you.
you could feel his heartbeat thump against your back as his hands rubbed both sides of your waist to the rythem of your delicate sways.
you leaned your head back against his chest, his scent being the only thing on your mind.
you felt him begin to caress your hair with one hand as it left your waist.
“you’re s’beautiful, hope y’know that” Joel could blame it on his 5 beers but 5 beers wasn’t shit for Joel, he was very conscious of his choices.
the compliment sent shivers down your spine as you swore your knees grew limp momentarily.
you turned around, your thigh now inbetween one of his legs, chests pressed against each other, his hands gripping your hips now, and faces inches away from each other.
your lips were parted, you really were debating on kissing the beautiful hunk of a dad infront of you.
fuck it
just like that, within no time your lips were moving like you both had never kissed anyone before.
the song continuing to play as the both of you makeout in his living room while everyone was outside.
the way his hands ran through all of your body like he had never touched anyone, your lips pulling away to catch your breathe momentarily like you had never been kissed like that before.
Joel completely ravished you.
hell…now that he had you, he wasn’t gonna let go now.
“m’room darlin’” he mutters against your lips, before completely scooping you up bridal style. it caught you slightly off guard, gasping which made Joel smack your ass playfully.
“oh, aren’t you a gentleman?” you joke, your arms were wrapped around his neck.
“oh, don’t’cha worry sweetheart” Joel smirks out as you arrived to his room.
he laid you on his bed, going down with you while on top of you. he began to move his lips from kissing you to your neck, pulling down the small straps that held your dress.
each kiss that Joel placed on your body felt like a burning sensation, making your insides erupt with giddiness.
you felt like this was your first time all over again. your mind was racing, heart was nervous, and body was clamy.
and it was all because of Joel.
you weren’t sexually active at all recently, you were so busy with work, about to graduate with your masters, and even babysitting sarah; spending more time at the Millers than on dates.
you did go out but lord were the guys of this generation a bunch of sluts.
“what’s on your mind? am i doin’ somethin’ wrong?” Joel’s rushes out accidentally, not wanting to sound nervous but he did.
you weren’t only one feeling like a bad teenager doing this for the first time.
Joel smelled your perfume and that was all it took to get his mind racing. he couldn’t begin to fathom how he finally got to have you.
the way his big frame craddled yours sent him into overdrive, his heart going a million miles per minute as he tries to figure out where to even begin.
for you, it might’ve been a year but for him, it was almost like ages with the years he’s gone.
all Joel’s mind could do was think of all the things he could do to you.
“Joel-hmph” you couldnt help but whine out as his hands massaged closer and closer to your arousal.
“there there sweet girl, you ever been with a man?” Joel asks, lifting your dress up, exposing your angelic white panties.
Joel was damned forsure for the filthy thoughts you provoked out of him.
“n-no, i have never—they were idiots.” you felt so small under him, feeling overwhelmed like it was your first time all again.
at this point, you could’ve considered yourself a virgin with how Joel had you and how much of a man he was.
“you ain’t gon’go lookin’ f’someone to take care of that pretty lil’mind, not after im done with’ya.” Joel claims to you.
you believe every single word laced in his southern accent; making your cunt pulsate wantingly.
“is that what you want to do, Joel? take care of me?” you ask him, lifting your leg to spread yourself open more as you wrap it around his lower waist; basically resting on his thick thigh.
the way you looked at him through your lashes, batting them softly. it was a genuine question, laced with purity and hope.
“if you’ll allow me too-” Joel began, pulling down your panties. you expected him to unbuckle his belt next but no; he got on his knees.
your chest weighed up and down heavily, each of his touch making your body hot.
“it’s my only wish for taking care of me and sarah” Joel finishes before hooking both of your legs up onto his shoulders, his tongue wasting no time.
you didn’t even get a chance to respond, a moan erupting out of you being the only thing.
the way he ate your pussy like he didn’t just eat a whole meal downstairs had your back already arching.
Joel’s tongue swiped along all of your cunt, fucking your sweethole “jesus, ya’taste fuckin’ delicious” Joel mumbles against your pussy as his tongue quickens all along your juiced cunt.
“ahmph!” your shriek sounding like music to his ears, if he didnt have his family downstairs, he’d have you screaming.
“quiet fa’me, doll” he says, taking a hand to cover your mouth as before diving back in.
joel’s tongue fucks into your hole this time causing you to let out a muffled moan against his big hand.
the way that man was eating your pussy, tainting your pussy with his spit, marking it all as his drove you insane. there wasnt nothing this man couldn’t do.
“god! j-joel!” you muffle out, your hands go to his roughed up brown hair, pulling on it causing him to groan into your dripping pussy.
you felt yourself getting closer and closer, your pussyhole squeezing around the tip of his tongue.
“this pussy s’perfect- s’all fuckin’ mine.” Joel spits out once he pulled away from your pussy, denying you of your orgasm.
your mouth was agape in pleasure but then quickly falling into a pout “don’t worry darlin’, my baby will cum…on my dick” Joel’s voice is sweet like honey now as he leaned down to connect your lips together.
you taste yourself on his lips, mixture of his spit along his lips causing you to moan at the mix of both of your filth fogging your mind.
the way both of your lips moved in sync perfectly was beyond intoxicating for joel. he swore he could get addicted to just at the look of you but at this point, both of your lips had him drunk.
he had shimmied and kicked off his pants while making-out with you. he was completely taking over you once again, your body turning small under his big one.
“are you ready, sweetheart?” joel asks delicately, pulling away from your lips to look at your eyes.
you told him yes, leaning up to take his shirt off which he happily obliged.
you had only seen his toned arms but it was obvious he had a strong build. he might’ve not had a six-pack but lord were his muscles chiseled like a greek god.
“you gon’ drool over an old man?” joel utters out, his hand going in to caress your hair.
“oh baby, you’re beyond fine wine.” you whisper. your forehead’s connected, lips away from kissing, and looking him deep in his chocolate eyes.
Joel could feel his breath hitch at what you said, you already had him wrapped around your finger as he worshipped you.
Joel thrusted himself into you, he couldn’t even fucking believe how tight you were.
“jesus- god, this pussy s-ah fuck!” joel’s groan was almost animalistic as your mouth fell as if you wanted to scream but nothing came out.
Joel’s cock was a size you’ve never had before, it didnt hurt but oh, did it stretch.
“s’big-oh my!” you moan out loudly, eyes rolling back at the feeling of him delectably stretching your pussy out.
“you got it baby, you got it” he praises you although he was too busy trying not too pass-out because of your cunt.
after a small moment of adjusting for the both of you, he began to thrust into you at a slow pace.
you arch into him as your whimpers and soft moans turn slowly work their way up to louder and heavier moans.
joel worked himself into you, his mind not being able to get enough of all of you. he still had to process that he really had a young beautiful woman with the heart of a home in his bed.
joel completely held your body with one hand, eventually putting a hand over your mouth again once his sweet thrusts turned into pounds.
your body shaking against his with each of his rough and hard thrusts, fucking your name out of your mind and replacing it wirh his.
your muffled little cries of his name “Joel! joel-ah! j-j! j-joel!” sounding like a sweet lullaby to him. he couldn’t help but smirk at your teary eyed-self.
you werent even worried about ruining that pretty liner of yours as he fucked into you.
“shh my baby, you’re taking me so well” joel coos out, caressing you hair before leaning down to plant kisses and suck on your chest.
your hands grip his bed sheets as your body begins to shake in pure sensual bliss that joel brought you, making your mind fog up as the build up of your orgasm is almost virginal.
“ya’look so beautiful like this-” praises left joel’s lips left and right, loving and indulging in every single one of his praises as he fucked you to your orgasm so sickeningly good; leaving the both of you intoxicated.
“you was made fa’me, not no one else.” Joel’s eyes were shut now, completely lost in the pleasure you were giving him.
it was almost like a prayer, a hopeful chant, almost a possessive plead.
joel had wanted you just as much as you wanted him “yes! god yes! m’close! it’s y-yours! all yours!” your pleasure-filled babbles as your mind gets drunk of joels cock and overwhelming orgasm.
“let go, darlin’ ” Joel works you through your orgasm, hips going from pistoling into you to the delicate pace he started off with.
your entire body shook as both of your sweaty hot bodies embraced each other through both of your orgasms.
the room filled with heavy pants and moans as his hand left your mouth and began to massage your hair.
you both held each other, not wanting to let go of each other.
“i understand what madonna meant by ‘like a virgin’ now” you giggle out causing a playfully scoff to come from him.
“alright alright, we need t’get dressed and head back down. would ya’ want to stop by tomorrow after i drop sarah off at school?” joel asks, his chocolate eyes now ridden of lust and replaced with soft hope.
you were about to tell him yes but another voice spoke before you.
“are you fucking done?! fuck! i can’t keep stalling Sarah and Maria!” it was Tommy.
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2K notes · View notes
palioom · 3 months
Text
little dove
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summary: your first attendance of a huge feast is bothersome, alone and inexperienced as you are. until the eyes of a certain prince won't stop following you.
pairing: oberyn martell x f!reader
word count: 4.5k
warnings: 18+ content; no use of y/n; virginity/innocence kink; implied age gap (oberyn is in his early 40s, reader early 20s); fingering; unprotected p in v; creampie; some biting
a/n: another fic from last summer, hope you enjoy! ; headers & dividers by @/saradika-graphics
follow @palioomfics & turn on notifs for future updates
• masterlist •
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Oberyn had been watching her all night already, his dark eyes following the shape of her wherever she went. Between the bustle of the people, her bright orange glowing dress like the sun, rising and settling as she appeared and disappeared, standing around like she didn’t know what to do with herself.
It was adorable, a smirk gracing his features as he watched her wring her hands, smiling sheepishly when someone approached her. 
So innocent.
He could see the nervousness on her face from where he sat, the uncertainty, clearly not used to people approaching her.
He could see the heavy rise and fall of her chest, exposed by the deep cut of her garments.
Taking another sip of his wine, Oberyn stood, deciding now was his time.
The festivities had been going on for a while, and even though he had planned on celebrating with a group of people in his bedchambers later, she had thrown those plans into the wind the second he set sight on her.
Something just intrigued him, maybe it was the innocence she seemed to harbour, maybe it was her beauty.
Whatever it was, he had to know more, waiving away another woman that approached him with a polite smile, then walking over to the mysterious woman.
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She looked around nervously, playing with the rings on her hands as people passed by her, some stopping to talk to her.
Feeling incredibly out of place at this feast, her first big one, she didn't quite know what to do. Her parents were somewhere, as were her siblings.
The lords trying to speak to her made her feel uneasy, knowing she was supposed to find a possible suitor at some point, but wanting nothing more than to flee this place.
In fact, she was thinking about just leaving, when she was approached again.
Tall, dark haired and handsome. The Prince of Dorne, Oberyn Martell.
She had seen him at his table, stealing a glance every once in a while and looking away when his dark eyes caught hers.
And now he stood in front of her, flashing her a wide smile.
“My Prince.” She said, curtsying as well as she could, perhaps a little clumsily. 
Out of everything she had expected to happen today, she did not expect for him to approach her.
“Do you intend to sulk in the shadows all night, my dove?”
She blinked up at him, once again playing with the rings on her fingers.
“I have not been sulking.” A frown graced her face, a slight tremble in her voice. His presence was intimidating, but different from the other people who had approached her. “I have been observing.”
Oberyn chuckled, taking a small step closer to her, watching her step back just a little in return. So close to her, he could practically feel the nervosity radiating off of her, trying to hold eye contact before they moved away again, looking at anything but him.
“Observing by turning down all lords and ladies who approach you?” He said, watching her fingers stop for just a moment, as if she had been caught, before fiddling with her rings again. “I must admit, I have been watching you for a while - you are the only lady not dancing, not talking to anyone. Just standing in your corner, sometimes moving to follow the servants for a drink or something to eat.”
She stayed quiet. Had she been that noticeable? Just by standing around, hoping for a saving grace?
“I assume this to be your first attendance at a feast this big, am I correct, my dove?”
That nickname.
It made her feel warm, a different kind of warmth than the Dornish weather. Running through her in an unfamiliar fashion, her veins like molten metal, a strange feeling moving up her spine..
“Yes, my Prince.” She said, nodding, but not looking at him.
Oberyn noticed how she became more nervous, smirking at the display in front of him.
“My parents have kept me from them for long, I was only ever allowed to attend small ones.” She continued, sighing. “It is quite overwhelming. I am inexperienced in these kinds of things.”
Her words made him inhale sharply through his nose, still smiling.
If she was inexperienced in this, what else was she inexperienced in?
He had wanted her before, but now the desire for her burned even brighter. Oberyn wanted to show her the things her parents have undoubtedly sheltered her from.
To keep their daughter pure for a potential suitor.
“I understand, my dove. Would you perhaps allow me to accompany you to a place more quiet?”
Usually, he did not beat around the bush when it came to a potential partner for the night.
But it was different with her. If he was blunt he would simply chase her away.
She didn’t look at him, thinking about his question.
All the other men and women that had asked before had made her feel uneasy. Unsure why they wanted to whisk her away, promising a better night someplace else.
But the Prince of Dorne? He made her feel different. A heat and a pressure in her abdomen that she never felt before.
She knew of the rumours, that he took many partners, for whatever they did. Yet, as he stood in front of her, charming smile and good looks, she felt herself drawn to him.
Oberyn reached out, placing a finger under her chin and forcing her to look up at him. “I asked you a question, my dove.”
His fingers on her chin made her still, just looking up at him with her big eyes, lips slightly parted. The touch made that pressure worse, breath hitching in her throat.
“My Prince, I’m-” She stumbled over her words, unsure what to answer.
He just chuckled, a sigh leaving him. “You are quite easily flustered, my dove. Come with me, please.”
Holding out his arm for her to take, he hoped she would. Such an innocent, pretty thing. There was something so endearing about the way she was behaving.
She swallowed hard, looking from his face to his arm, hesitating for a moment. Something drew her to him, and after another moment, she hooked her arm into his with a nervous smile.
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Oberyn walked her away from the feast, the noises dying down behind them as they walked the long corridors.
“What did the other lords and ladies ask of you, my dove?” 
She sighed, glad to be away from the bustle in the halls, but feeling uncertain now, a throbbing at the apex of her thighs distracting her.
“They wished to take me away for some fun. I’m unsure what they meant exactly.” She didn’t look at him, too nervous to meet his dark, piercing eyes. 
It was intimidating, she had never been in the presence of a man other than her father or her brothers alone. She knew how to behave, for the most part, but nonetheless was it a little scary.
Oberyn smirked, looking down to her, seeing how she only stared at the floor or ahead of them. 
“You did not know what they were implying?” He asked, a bit amused but genuinely curious. “My little dove, you must be younger than I thought or your parents simply were too careless with your education.”
She remained quiet, her cheeks growing hot. 
A sense of shame washed over her, that he thought she was too young. It was as if her friends were with her, giggling and whispering because of something she didn’t understand.
And when she asked, they never explained, finding it too amusing to laugh and belittle her.
There was something she was missing out on, and she hated not knowing what.
“My dove, you do not have to be ashamed.” He said, his other hand coming to gently rest on hers. “If you wish, I could show you.”
He had been right about the assumptions of her being a virgin, too innocent for her own good.
Walking next to her, he felt something else besides the desire for her, a need to protect.
As if he was the only one allowed to show her, that anyone else would simply take advantage of this fact.
Now her eyes met his, brows furrowed. 
“Show me?” She echoed his words. “How? What exactly?”
Oberyn just smiled, eyes leaving hers to look at the guards standing by the door of his chambers.
He stopped, not too far away from the door, looking back at her.
“Do you wish for me to show you, my dove?” He asked, brushing back a strand of hair, tucking it behind her ear. “If not, I understand.”
She should be wary. Despite him being the Prince of Dorne, she should think about this. But she was curious, so curious about what this thing was that she had been missing out on.
And there was still that feeling inside of her.
“Yes, my Prince.” She said with a small nod. “I am curious, please.”
He chuckled, his knuckles brushing over her cheek. “Please, call me Oberyn, my dove.”
Moving along, the guards allowed them to enter, the heavy door falling shut behind them. Oberyn let go of her arm, walking over to a table to pour himself some wine, then offering her a cup.
She took it with a small nod, taking in his quarters. They were richly decorated, the bed massive.
Just how she would imagine it, if she had ever spent time on that before meeting him.
Taking a sip of her wine, Oberyn laid a hand on her waist with a gentle smile, pulling her closer to him.
“Most people stare when they first come here.” He said, his hand wandering up and down her side. “Don’t be nervous, little dove.”
She nodded, swallowing hard. That was easier said than done, the heat inside her becoming unbearable at this point.
His hand on her side felt like it was burning her, even through the thin fabric of her gown. Like it was hot coals placed on her.
“Have you ever been kissed, my dove?” He asked suddenly, eyes searching hers. Pulling her just a little closer to him.
She shook her head no, slowly. Heart beating in her throat, he was so close to her. 
She could feel the warmth of him, twirling the cup of wine in her hand.
“Would you allow me to?”
There was some hesitation inside her, her hands stilling. Should she allow him to? She wanted to, somehow.
Often had she imagined what it felt like, kissing someone.
Her answer came in the form of a nod, her head barely moving.
Oberyn smiled, his hand coming up to cup her cheek.
“Oh, my little dove.”
Despite his growing desire, he moved gently, bending down to place his lips onto hers. The small gasp that left her made him chuckle, his other hand coming to rest on her hip and pull her hips flush against his.
She stiffened beneath his touch, liking the way his lips felt on hers, surprisingly soft, while his beard and moustache tickled her skin. Holding onto her cup tightly, she closed her eyes, humming when he deepened the kiss and she tried to match his movements, clumsy and inexperienced.
When he parted from her, she chased after him, opening her eyes when she couldn’t. Oberyn laughed at that, staying close to her, his thumb brushing over her cheek.
She looked adorable, the way she greedily breathed in air, lips slightly parted. Still too nervous, too stiff.
“What do you think, my dove?” He asked, leaning closer again so their noses were almost touching. “Would you like for me to show you more? There is quite an array of things I could assist you with.”
His fingers curled into her hip, and when she nodded, he only smiled wider.
“I promise to be gentle, my dove. A beauty such as you needs to be handled with care.”
She didn’t know what he meant, but it didn’t matter, because as soon as he kissed her again, more eager this time, her mind went blank.
His hand briefly left her hip to take the cup from her hands, placing it on the table next to them, before it was back, pulling her against his chest and making her gasp.
Letting his tongue glide against hers at the opportunity, Oberyn heard her muffled moan, relishing in the sweet sound.
The way she tried to kiss him back was delightful, so tender and new, trying to keep up with him.
Slowly he manoeuvred her back towards the bed, having to hold onto her waist as her steps became unsure, stumbling backwards once, her cheeks glowing even hotter.
The throbbing only became more intense, and when they reached the bed and he gently pushed her to sit at the foot of it, she squeezed her thighs together, looking for relief.
There was a wetness now that felt foreign to her.
Oberyn noticed, amused at the display.
“Are you aching, my dove?” He asked, his hands coming to the belt tied around his waist.
Aching.
It did hurt, but in a different way. Not like a bruise or a cut.
She nodded. “A little. My Prince- Oberyn, what- I don’t understand what is happening.”
Poor thing. Her parents had done a horrible job to prepare their daughter.
To leave her in the dark at such an age.
She watched him undo his belt, letting it fall to the floor before motioning for her to move further back to the middle of the bed.
“You’re aroused, my dove. You feel the need for cock.” He explained, shedding his robe, then crawling over her. “Have you seen a cock before, little dove?”
Her mouth went dry as she watched him undress, now only clad in a dark orange tunic and his breeches. 
Aroused.
Of course. But was she really aroused by him? In need of his cock?
She nodded, and she could see a flash of surprise grace his features. 
“In the bathhouses, yes.” She tried to hold his gaze, now hovering over her and letting his hand glide down her side. “From afar.”
He chuckled, leaning down to kiss her cheek, then her neck, hearing the breathy moan spill from her lips, feeling her back arch slightly.
“In the bathhouses…” He repeated in a whisper, still some amusement in his voice. “Yet you don’t know a thing about this… about desire and fucking.”
The word felt vulgar, so close to her ear.
And she felt embarrassed again. That she didn’t know more, that she didn’t understand she was aroused just by him being near her, by him kissing her, by him hovering over her.
“Do you want me to show you, my dove? The thrill of desire?” He asked, still mouthing along her neck, gently, just feeling her as she squirmed, her own hands coming to rest on his broad shoulders. “How to fuck?”
Her breath hitched in her throat when he sucked at the junction of her neck and shoulder, a throaty moan leaving her.
“I- I do not know, Oberyn.” She stammered, fingers digging into his shoulders. The throbbing and the pressure were distracting her, just needing relief. “It hurts, it really hurts.”
His hand moved lower, down her side and to her thigh, gathering her skirts before it dipped below them.
“I can help you, my dove.” His hand wandered between her thighs, finding her dripping already, a soft sound escaping him at the feeling. “Oh, my dove. Wet and gushing like a waterfall and I have barely touched you.”
He sounded pitying almost, his fingers slipping between her folds, raising his head to watch her face when he found her clit.
A hiss left her, looking at him with wide eyes at the foreign feeling. It felt good, strange but good.
“Have you never touched yourself before? Brought yourself to the peak of pleasure?” He asked, drawing slow circles into her clit, with featherlight touches. 
She shook her head, trying to keep her eyes open, her legs opening further.
“Never, I didn’t know-”
“You poor thing.” He cooed, kissing her. 
When his fingers left her again, she whined in protest, one of her hands reaching out to grab his wrist. 
She didn’t even really know what was happening, simply that his touch felt good and that she wanted more.
Needed more.
The burning sensation inside her was so consuming and overwhelming while also hurting her.
“Oberyn, please, continue.” She said, guiding his hand back down but he escaped her grasp. 
“Do you know anything about this, my dove? About fucking, the feeling of something stretching you open? Feeling somebody’s naked skin against yours?”
Stretching her open? It sounded painful, she couldn’t imagine how anything could do that, and where.
But she didn’t want to ask, didn’t want to embarrass herself further.
She shook her head again. “No, I don’t.”
He chuckled, his hand coming up to tug one of the straps of her gown down her shoulder, then further down her arm, exposing her breast.
“My little dove, so innocent, so pure.” A sigh left him, watching her face as he touched her breast, just lightly brushing over the hardened nipple. Nothing could have prepared him for just how much her innocence spurred him on. “I will take care of you, just allow me to do so.”
“Please, please, Oberyn.” She whined, desperate. His hand felt good on her, back arching off the bed and into his touch, her head thrown back as she closed her eyes.
This was what she had missed out on, something so good and intense. If only he could touch her again.
Slowly Oberyn undressed her, slipping the garment down her body and kissing each inch of newly uncovered skin. Taking in how she whined and moaned, took in a sharp breath or hissed at the sensation.
She felt exposed, once he sat back and pulled the gown down her legs, his dark eyes raking over her naked form as she laid before him, resisting the urge to cover herself.
So sweet and pure. And he would be the one to ruin her, to taint her beautiful body.
Thank the Gods it was him and not someone else.
“So pretty.” He said, a hand gliding up and down her thigh, the other working open his tunic. “My little dove, all for me to enjoy. I shall show you the heights of pleasure.”
She watched as he shed the garment, exposing his toned torso, the muscles under his skin moving. She was mesmerized, despite having seen this so many times at the bathhouses, when she came to find her siblings or her parents.
His hands moved down to his breeches, opening them just as slowly as he had done with the rest of his clothing.
“It seems as if my little dove has found something she likes.” He chuckled, shedding the last piece of clothing, kneeling between her spread legs, just as exposed as she was.
Cock heavy and throbbing, her eyes were fixed on it.
It was bigger than what she had seen before. But she didn’t know if she should mind that.
“Don’t be scared, my dove.” Oberyn said, moving to hover over her again, one hand on her thigh, his cock brushing against her stomach. “I’ll prepare you to take me.”
“Take me?” She asked, gasping when his hand found that sweet spot again, applying more pressure this time and leaving her breathless.
He hummed against her neck, kissing and sucking on her skin, taking in her sweet sounds.
So adorable, needing to be taught. Not knowing what pleasures awaited her.
His hand moved lower and he felt how she stiffened when one finger pressed against her hole.
“Don’t be scared…” He repeated, slowly pushing a single digit in, groaning when he felt her squeeze around him, her nails digging into his shoulders with a whine.
It felt strange, his thick finger inside of her, moving in and out slowly. Yet it also felt good, her hips rolling on their own, legs opening wider.
“Oberyn-” She moaned, voice breaking, the pressure inside her easing just a little. 
His mouth found hers again, continuing to move his finger slowly, his cock twitching at the thought of burying himself inside her soon.
“Tell me how it feels, little dove. You might be ready for another finger soon.”
She whined, concentrating on the foreign feeling, the stretch when he pushed a second finger in.
“It feels good, my Prince- Oberyn.” She breathed, her mind feeling as if it was floating on a cloud, hissing when he scissored his fingers inside of her. “It hurts a little, but it feels good.”
He chuckled, kissing her cheek and down to her jaw, then down her neck again.
“My dove, you feel splendid, gripping my fingers so tight with your sweet cunt.”
Something inside her built, blood hot like molten metal as it rushed through her, building her higher and higher until he took his fingers from her again.
A noise of protest died in her throat, his teeth softly sinking into her shoulder.
He grinned at that, lifting his head to look at her, bringing his fingers to his mouth, licking them clean with a deep hum.
“Finer than any wine.” Oberyn said, positioning himself so his cock was lined up with her. “My dove, I promise to be gentle. It may sting nonetheless.”
She nodded, drowsy and wanting nothing more than this ache to end. He said his cock would help, and so she wished for nothing more than him to enter her where his fingers just had been.
“Please, help me relieve this ache.” She said, feeling him against her, so much thicker than his fingers.
Oberyn watched as he entered her, grunting at how tight she still was, seeing her eyes squeeze shut and take a sharp breath.
It stung, he hadn’t lied about that, his lips finding hers as he pushed in further, muffling her whimpers while he buried inch after inch inside of her.
All the way until he was fully sheathed inside of her, hips flush against hers, one of his hands coming to rest on her thigh, squeezing it gently.
“It hurts, Oberyn.” She breathed when he broke from her, looking back at him, his lips on her cheek again.
“I know, my dove. You will feel better soon, don’t you worry.”
It was so new, the sensation of being filled, of him inside of her and stretching her out just as he had said.
Overwhelming, someone being so close to her, inside of her, his hot skin against hers, his soft lips on her cheeks.
The pain slowly fading into a need, the throbbing returning, as did the pressure.
Her hips moving on their own, making him chuckle, the sound vibrating against her chest. 
“Are you sure you wish to continue already, my dove?” He asked, kissing a spot just below her ear that sent a shiver through her. “I cannot stop myself if we do, your cunt is simply too tight and inviting.”
She nodded, whispering a silent please.
So he slowly pulled back, setting a lazy rhythm of shallow thrusts, her dragged out moans like music to his ears, a little symphony written just for him as he drove back into her over and over again.
“You feel perfect, my dove, what an honour to teach you about the pleasures of the flesh.” Oberyn groaned, his hands grabbing her legs and wrapping them around his hips, making her whimper loudly. “You won’t find a nicer cunt than that of this little virgin dove.”
She let him move, rolling her hips, trying to meet his thrusts, that something inside her building again, becoming stronger this time.
If this really was what she had been missing out on, what she had been ridiculed for, she never wanted it to stop now that she had it.
The feeling pleasant as the ache became less and less present.
Oberyn had to hold back to not just drive into her with his entire force, losing himself in how good she felt, but still wanting this to be something good for her, as much as he desired her.
Already knowing he would seek her out again and again, her innocence far from gone, her sounds so sweet in his ears, her hands so soft as they grabbed at him, trying to find purchase on his body.
“My dove, you are close, I can feel you.” He rasped, his movements becoming sloppier, lips dancing over her skin. “You’re close, aren’t you?”
“Close to what?” She asked, words catching on her breath, feeling something but unsure if it was what he meant.
Gods, she was so adorable.
“Oh, you will see, my dove.”
His hand moved between them, finding her clit.
And with just a few movements, something snapped inside of her so suddenly and with such force that all breath left her, a strangled noise catching in her chest as her veins burned, the pressure in her abdomen released. 
She was trembling, holding him against her tightly as he kept moving, thrusts harsher now.
“There you are, my little dove, isn’t that wonderful? The heights, the peak?”
It was a pretty sight, her face contorted in bliss and pleasure but also so shocked by what was happening to her, by these new feelings.
She could only whine, falling silent when she heard him grunt deeply into her ear, stilling above her.
Spilling himself deep inside of her before rolling off of her, not separating but rolling her with him so she came to rest on top of him.
She felt exhausted suddenly, the euphoric feelings still coursing through her veins.
And he felt solid beneath her body, catching his breath just as she did, his hands carding through her hair.
“Now, my dove, how do you feel?” He asked, watching her face as she rested on him. “Are you satisfied?”
If anyone had told her just a few hours ago that she would land in the bed of the Prince of Dorne, she would have laughed at them.
But now, it seemed quite nice.
She nodded. “I feel exhausted, but I am very grateful for what you showed me.”
A smile stretched her lips wide, he liked it. She seemed to be less nervous.
He chuckled, one hand wandering down to smooth over her back. Normally he would be far from done, already planning another round of pleasure.
But she truly seemed too exhausted by this. After all, she hadn’t even known about any of this until now.
Her eyes drifted shut, but she was still awake, listening to his heartbeat.
“Oh, my dove.” He said quietly, kissing the top of her head. “There is so much more to show you, I am far from done with you.”
She felt warm at the idea, curious what else there was to discover. Her eyes felt too heavy to open them again, slowly drifting off into sleep on top of him.
Oberyn simply smiled, sighing deeply.
Yes, he was far from done. 
There was so much to learn, so much to discover.
And he couldn’t wait to see her face once he began to truly teach his little dove.
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puchosdementa · 11 months
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strang3lov3 · 7 months
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VS
Summary: Yours and Joel’s newest patrol task is exploring the old mall not far from Jackson. You learn what Victoria’s Secret really is. (She was NOT having an affair with former president of the United States Colonel Sanders) AKA grumpy cranky joel and you get down and dirty in an old Victoria’s Secret.
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This is part 1 of my new series “Mall Rats”
Warnings: smut, fingering, unprotected piv, creampie, doin it in front of a mirror (thanks gracie!), reverse cowgirl, joel is a dick, joel is condescending, reader is charming just like me, Joel does all the work because reader is a lady and Joel is an asshole.
W/C: 4.7k
“Weird looking stairs,” you mumble as you take in the unique environment. Beneath your feet are metallic steps with deep lined grooves, in front of you is Joel, stepping down the staircase. In the enclosed building, the walls are lined with different shops, there’s a few different seating areas. Old posters, advertisements. Colorfully painted walls are overgrown with roots and vines. 
“S’cause they’re not regular stairs,” Joel says with a gruff voice. “S’called an escalator. Didn’t have to walk up and down the steps, you could stay stationary and it’d move ya up an’ down.”
“Sounds cool.”
“No,” Joel mutters. “Not cool.”
None of this is cool to Joel. In fact, it’s the opposite. 
Tommy and his crew had stumbled across this mall while on patrol. Of course they couldn’t be one hundred percent sure, but they deemed it largely safe of infected. He wasn’t sure how picked over it was, but he figured it would be a good task for you and your curious mind. Comb it through for supplies, clothing, entertainment. Take notes and report back to him. 
So what was Joel there for?
To chaperone you, of course. Keep you out of trouble, keep you safe, answer your million and one questions. 
It was Tommy’s sick and twisted idea of a joke. Joel’s new patrol project involved two of the things he disdained the most: Malls, and you.
 Comedy gold.
“No,” you mock his tone with a silly face, “Not cool.”
Joel rolls his eyes and ignores you. When you reach the bottom of the steps, he looks at his surroundings as he reaches in his bag for his flashlight. Turning it on he says, “We’ll start down here and work our way up. Scope everything out, get familiar. Then you can start combing through the stores for supplies and what have you. You stick by me. No wanderin’.”
“Don’t you mean we?” you ask. “We comb through the stores.”
“No, sweetheart, I don’t. S’your job, not mine. I’m just here to keep ya from gettin’ killed.”
Whatever. Joel can bitch and moan about this all he wants, but you’re grateful for the opportunity to explore the infinite wonders of the mall. It’s not like you’ve got much else to do. You’re indoors, safe from the elements and infected. You’re not complaining. 
You reach into your own bag and pull out your flashlight. You turn it on, and the light flickers dimly. You smack it with your palm a couple times before the light finally goes out, then turn to Joel with a sweet smile on your face. “You wouldn’t happen to have a couple extra–”
“You’re lucky I do,” Joel glares at you as he digs through his belongings to find a couple of double A batteries in his pack. You hold out your hand and he begrudgingly drops the batteries in your palm. “Quit fuckin’ around. Be prepared next time.” He’s certainly jolly today. 
You replace the batteries and turn your flashlight on, and begin to make your way through the bottom level of the mall. Joel’s said nothing since giving you the batteries. 
“So what did you do here? Or, not here specifically. Just like, malls in general,” you ask as you make your way through tables and chairs. A big sign on a nearby wall informs you that this area is called the food court. 
“I did nothing. Malls were always packed with people, way too busy. Too many teenagers. Expensive too,” Joel scrunches his nose as he catches a whiff of something foul at an old hot dog stand. “But other people, they’d come here and shop for clothes, get somethin’ to eat. Could catch a movie f’ya wanted.”
“So where’d you get your clothes from?”
Joel shrugs. “Dunno. Just kinda always had them in my dresser, I guess.”
Sounds like Joel. 
There’s a Panda Express, something called Auntie Anne’s that you and Joel are looking through together. He’s eyeing the cooking equipment and you’re baffled as you stare at a five gallon drum of nacho cheese on the floor.
“That cheese is probably still good,” Joel comments. 
“You’re joking.”
“It ain’t the real cheese like we got back in Jackson. Auntie Anne’s was a pretzel shop, lotta people would dip ‘em in that cheese.”
Auntie Anne’s doesn’t have much to offer, so you and Joel move right along. Next stop is Kentucky Fried Chicken. You point to the man on the logo. “Who’s that?”
“Colonel Sanders. He was the president way back when.”
You know better. “No, he wasn’t.”
“Sure he was,” Joel says. “You weren’t there. You don’t know.”
He’s such a dick. You roll your eyes and leave him and Colonel Sanders to their own devices as you walk through the rest of the food court. 
Joel doesn’t realize you’d left. He tells you another Kentucky Fried Fun Fact and when he’s met with no answer, he looks up to find you at Cinnabon at the end of the food court. 
He makes his way to you then kicks you with his boot. “Didn’t I tell you to stay next to me?”
You ignore his question and ask him your own. “What’s Cinnabon?”
“M’serious,” he says. “No more wanderin’.”
“Yeah, yeah. No wanderin’.” you mock his Southern accent once more. But more importantly, you demand answers. “Tell me about Cinnabon.” 
“They’re just cinnamon rolls. Cinnamon. Bun. S’in the name, genius.”
“I’m guessing you didn’t like those much either, then.”
“Actually, they were pretty good. Big and gooey, covered in icing. You were supposed to split ‘em with someone but I never did.”
“Ah, right. You and your sweet tooth,” You smile. 
“I don’t have a sweet tooth,” Joel lies. “Keep movin’.”
So you do. There’s a lemonade stand here and there, but mostly shops now. A bookstore, jewelry stores. Something called “Wet Seal”. You ask Joel what it is, to which he replies “Fuck if I know.”
A shoe store has piqued Joel’s interest. He’s looking for a new pair of boots as you stare out the window of the shop, wondering who the hell Victoria is and what secret she’s hiding. Joel taps you on the arm to tell you to follow him as he leaves the shoe store.
“What’s Victoria’s Secret?”
“Oh,” Joel says. “Nothin’. We don’t need to go there.”
Oof. Bad move, Joel. Now you have to find out what the deal is with Victoria’s Secret. You take off for the store, ignoring Joel’s orders to stick by his side. “Did she have a secret affair with President Colonel Sanders?”
“No, god dammit. Get back here. We ain’t goin’.”
“Why not?”
“I just don’t wanna.”
But you do. So you ignore his bitching and approach the store, stopping when you realize exactly what kind of store it is. “Oh.”
Joel catches up to you. “Mhm,” he mumbles. “S’just underwear. Now c’mon, I’m tired of chasin’ ya.”
“No way,” you argue. “I need new underwear. I’m actually going commando right now, so this is perfect.”
 Joel makes a face like he’s in pain and pinches the bridge of his nose. “Jesus Christ. Boundaries.”
You don’t believe in TMI. 
You enter the store, entranced by the women in the photos and the black sparkly floor. There’s a big table with panties laid on top, drawers underneath that indicate sizing. You open the drawers with your size and begin sifting through the underwear. All different styles, patterns, colors. Way cuter than the few you have back in Jackson. 
You pick out a few different pairs. Brown with pink polka dots, pink with red roses. Some bikini styles, some boyshorts. You hold up a white pair with lace and a little blue flower sewn on the center of the waistband. “Joel, look! Aren’t these cute?”
“Just adorable,” he mumbles without bothering to actually look. If his voice were any more full of sarcasm he’d choke. Joel keeps his eyes firm on the ground, like he’s being intimidated by the mannequins and their threatening panties. You giggle and he shoots you a warning look. 
You look for a few more pairs, then find a few pairs that look a little different. You hold one up, trying to figure out which side you put your legs through. When you look at the nearly bare-assed woman in the advertisement that reads 5 for $20 above you, you realize how it’s meant to be worn. Oh, you think. Neato. You stuff a few of the thongs in your bag. Could be fun. 
Joel’s still behind you, eyes still focused on the floor, off in his own, prudish little world. You wonder what he’s thinking. There’s a fire engine red thong in the drawer, with sparkles and lace. You know, the works. And you know it’ll be just perfect for a special someone. “Hey, Joel. Found some for you.”
“Not interested.”
You loop the thong over your index finger and pull back with your other hand, then shoot it at Joel like it’s a hair tie. It hits him square on his nose and he catches it in his hand, then throws it on the ground as he pouts. “Alright, enough. You’re done. We’re leavin’.”
You shake your head. “Tommy said I’m in charge.”
Joel groans. “Oh, for the love of god. In charge, my ass.”
You know better than to keep arguing. So you just walk towards the bras, ignoring Joel’s voice in the background telling you to get back here. He hates it when you walk away from him when he’s speaking, so he always follows you so that you hear every last word. It works out, though. You get to do what you want, and Joel gets to give you his stern talking-to. How’s that for a compromise?
The bras are set up similarly to the panties, with different drawers for different sizes. Joel’s still going off about how you never follow orders, how you probably don’t even need any of this, you’re just doing it to get under his skin. And it’s working. Something about how when we get back to Jackson, I’m telling Tommy to take me off of patrol with y–
You interrupt. “The fuck?”
“What?”
“What does any of this mean? 30A, 30B, 32A, 34C, 34DD?” You hold up different bras and show him the tags. 
“Those are sizes, sweetheart.” 
“Yeah, I gathered that, thanks. But what’s my size?”
“Why’re ya askin’ me? Just grab one so we can go. Christ almighty.” 
Men. No help at all. 
Surely a store that specializes in bras must have some sort of sizing chart or something. There’s end caps with different beauty products, you stuff a strawberry flavored lipgloss in your pocket as you search. The register might have something, you guess. And lucky you, you’re right. Under the counter are a few measuring tapes and charts. 
Predictable Joel follows you, of course. He says nothing as you read through the instructions. First wrap around your back, under your armpits and just above your bust. That’s your band size. Then do the same with your bust, and subtract the band size from the bust. There’s your A, B, C, D and so on.
You take off your hoodie and stand in just a tank top, no bra. When you said commando, you meant it. Joel watches you as you wrap the measuring tape around yourself. 
“Sweetheart,” Joel interrupts, and he sounds exhausted. “What are you doin’.”
“Making you a Cinnabon, what’s it look like?” you mumble with your chin smushed into your neck as you try to read the numbers on the tape. 
And Joel thought Ellie was annoying. 
You’ve got the measuring tape twisted and tangled behind you, and you don’t even realize it. The inner contractor in Joel can’t bear to watch any more of this fuckery. “Give me that,” he spits, yanking the measuring tape away from your body. “You’re useless.”
Joel looks over the directions for a moment before tapping your arms. You lift up, he wraps the measuring tape properly around your body. There’s a nearby pen and he scribbles the number down, then lowers the measuring tape, his thumbs skating over the clothed flesh of your breasts. Your nipples harden as his fingers brush them accidentally. 
And you thought the thong you shot at Joel was red. It doesn’t even begin to compare to the shade of crimson Joel’s face turns as he realizes what he’s done. Quickly, he drops the measuring tape and writes down the second number and your bra size. “Ther-” his voice cracks and he clears his throat. “There. Go find your bra. Then we’re leavin’, and I’m not arguin’ this time.”
You smirk at his vocal mishap. “Okay. But I have to try them on first.”
“You never make things easy for me, do you?”
Joel follows you as you look for a few different bras in your size. You pick out a few that match your panties, and a few others. There’s a silky black bra with so much memory foam padding that it rivals your pillow at home. Again, perfect for your special someone. 
Joel’s smelling different perfumes when you sidle up to him and lay the bra on his head, the large cups sitting on either side of his scalp. “Mickey Mouse,” you tell him.
Joel glares at you as he removes the bra and drops it on the floor. “You are giving me a fuckin’ aneurysm.” 
You look pleased with yourself, which only makes him more pissed off. But the table next to Joel catches your eye. There’s a pretty satin babydoll dress, with a matching pair of panties. It’s a nice light pink color, with pretty floral lace. “Hmm.” you mumble, thinking to yourself.
Joel watches your eyes leave his face as you become distracted. ���What?” he turns his attention toward where your vision is focused. “Oh. Nope. You don’t need that.”
 “Why not?”
“You said you needed underwear. S’lingerie. All them frills and lace…” Joel trails off.
“I think it’d be nice for a date night.”
Joel’s jaw clenches slightly. “I do not envy the poor bastard who takes you home,” he says. He’s probably just annoyed, at his wit’s end with you. Probably not jealous. Definitely not jealous. “But guys don’t give a shit what you’re wearin’, honey. Just wanna get what’s underneath. S’a waste of time.”
You shrug and grab your size in the lingerie anyway. Then you take off towards the dressing rooms to try everything on. You enter the first room on the right, and Joel sits at a bench directly across, just a few feet away from you. 
You try on a couple of bras and feel pleased when they fit and support you. They make the girls sit pretty, too.
You take off the bra and eye the pretty babydoll and its matching bottom. So you try it on, and it’s gorgeous. It frames you nicely, sits right above your ass to show off the panties. You admire yourself in the mirror for a while before deciding you’ll save it for a date night. Fuck what Joel says. Maybe he doesn’t like lingerie, but that doesn’t mean you can’t. 
Things are going smoothly until you try to unhook the babydoll in the back. It’s stuck or something. You fidget with it for a second, accidentally smacking your elbow against one of the dressing room walls in the process. 
“Y’alright in there?” Joel calls out to you.
“Fine, just uh…” You step out of the dressing room. “Need your help with the hook in the back. It’s stuck.”
Joel looks like a deer in the headlights when you stand before him, clad in your pink satin babydoll and matching panties. You leave the changing room door open, Joel stares at your ass on the mirror attached to it. He’s all flustered, eyes wide and mouth agape. “Lord have mercy.”
“Yeah, I know. You’re not a lingerie guy.”
Joel swallows thickly. “I don’t know about that, exactly.”
“No?” You raise an eyebrow. Joel, suddenly a man of few words. How much nicer he is when he’s quiet, you think. “How about you unhook it so I can change?”
“Yeah I could uh…do that.” Joel stands up, then carefully holds the straps of your dress between his fingers. His featherlight touch leaves goosebumps on your shoulders. “Shouldn’t be wearin’ this. It’s very impractical.” 
“I know, Joel. You mentioned that.”
His hands trail lower down the straps, his fingers resting against your skin. “Uh huh. Cheap material…could get torn very easily f’ya aren’t careful.”
And then his fingers are moving up the straps again. He places two hands on your hips and turns you around, fingers skating across your ass cheeks. You feel his body step closer to yours, his hot breath on your neck as he whispers, “M’sure it's not stitched too good. Probably not easy to clean, either.” He catches you off guard when you look at yourself in the mirror. He’s staring intently at the reflection of your body, then his eyes flicker to yours.
“Right,” you agree. 
Joel’s scanning your body again, observing how the fabric falls around your curves just so. He looks hungry, like the moment you peel your eyes from him he’ll devour you.
“Are you gonna take it off of me?” He ignores your question as he pinches the bottom of your babydoll between his fingers, the soft satin tickling your skin as he moves the fabric. “Joel?”
“Yeah, hon. I’m gettin’ there. Be patient f’me, now.” Your stomach flutters at the low timbre of his voice, the way he purrs in your ear. Joel absolutely does not like lingerie. Not one bit, god dammit.
His eyes are darkened with lust as he sucks in a breath, admiring the way your breasts sit beneath the clothing, the way it drapes over your stomach and rests on your hips. One of the straps falls off your shoulder and he clicks his tongue. “See? S’no good.”
“Guess so,” you agree, and he places the strap back on your shoulder, his fingers lingering for a moment too long as he contemplates his next move.
“Closer,” he pulls your hand towards himself, and you step backward. He lets his hands slide down your body over the lingerie and you watch him frown in the mirror, his hands stopping when he reaches the bottom of your dress. “N’it covers up all these pretty curves…” Joel lifts up the fabric, inspecting the craftsmanship of your panties. He takes note of the way they’re darkened beneath your core, sticky with your arousal. “These panties…thin, huh?” He traces a finger delicately over the strap on your hip, pulling it back and snapping on your skin. 
Your breath hitches in your throat. “Joel,” you breathe shakily, “You’re teasing me.”
“M’sorry, darlin’. Just tryna show ya somethin’.” You watch as he trails a finger over your mound, dragging it across the damp cloth and finding your clit over the fabric. He rubs steady circles as he whispers, “See, now look at that. You’re stainin’ em. Makin’ a big fuckin’ mess of yourself.”
You bite back a moan. “Joel, what are you doing?”
“What’s it look like, I’m makin’ a Cinnabon.” Joel mocks you from earlier, but you don’t catch his snide teasing. You’re foggy headed and lost in this moment. “I just said I’m tryna show ya somethin’. Now hush while I’m speakin’.” He pushes your panties to the side, smirking when he feels how soaked your soft folds are as he drags his fingers up and down your slit. Your knees weaken and wobble, and Joel wraps an arm around your waist to guide you back some more. He sits on the bench with you on his lap, tapping a foot in between yours. You spread your legs and your stomach flutters feeling his hardness press against you. You watch him through the mirror as he speaks quietly into your ear, his breath tickling you as two of his thick fingers breach your entrance and push inside. “You said this lil’ number would be nice for a date, right?”
You nod while whimpering, turning your face into his neck. With his other strong hand, he holds your jaw and turns your attention back to the mirror in front of you. “S’matter? Don’t be gettin’ all bashful on me now,” he murmurs.  He’s curling his fingers, swirling them inside you and memorizing every inch of your walls. “Watch how I touch ya.”
You watch his fingers twitch and dance under your pretty pink panties. You peel your eyes away to look at his face, and he’s focused on his hand between your thighs. 
“S’pose it could be nice for a date,” Joel breathes. “You’d wear this, what, under a pretty dress or somethin’?”
You nod again.
“And then when that pretty dress comes off that evenin’, then what happens?”
“I-I dunno, Joel.”
“I know you don’t, sweetheart. I’ll tell you what happens. Your gentleman's gonna take one look at this little getup and rip it right off. Leave it in shreds on the floor and break your poor heart.”
You’re waiting for Joel to do just that. But he doesn’t, he just keeps fingering you under your panties. Two fingers deep inside you, thumb painting circles into your clit. There’s a heat building in your stomach, tickling you from the inside. Joel takes a moment to lift you up, undo his jeans and pull himself out before he begins to rock against you. His head nudges between your cheeks, warm and smooth and hard. How you wish you could see it, hold it in your hand, feel him with your tongue. You squirm against him and find his free arm, hugging it tight to steady yourself on him. Joel chuckles in a low tone.
“But I know you feel pretty,” Joel continues, “M’gonna work around it for ya, baby, but only if you’re good t’me. You know what that means?”
You’re irritated as you shake your head no. Joel’s using his fingers to taunt you, tease you. He knows just how he’s working you up, giving you just enough to keep you squirming but not enough to send you over the edge.
“It means–” Joel pulls his fingers away from your core and you groan. “Shush. Quit your whinin’.” He pushes you up by your hips so he can pull his pants down a little further, then sits you on his lap again, this time with his cock sitting between your folds and your panties pulled as far to the side as he could get them. With his hands still on your hips, he guides you up and down, up and down, coating himself in your arousal. You can just barely make out the shape as his tip rubs against your clit. He continues, “Means no more wanderin’,” he pulls the top of the babydoll down and watches your tits fall out, his both hands leaving your hips and sliding up to play with your breasts. “Y’come prepared for patrol,” he notches his stiff cock at your dripping entrance, “And I’m in charge. Not you. We clear?”
You nod. You’re not sure how he did it, but with Joel’s teasing, he’s seemingly melted away every bit of attitude in you.
“Good girl. Now don’t say I don’t do nothin’ for ya.”
With that, he thrusts up into you, parting your insides. You watch his cock disappear inside of you before throwing your head back on his shoulder with a moan. Joel smirks before using a firm yet gentle hand to guide your head back where he wants it. “Watch,” he coos, reminding you. “You’re pretty like this.”
Joel uses his hands on your hips to bounce you on his cock, then lets them glide up your body. He palms your breasts, squeezing and watching your flesh move and bulge under his fingers. He gropes you a couple of times while pinching and twisting your nipples, enjoying the way your moans change pitch with the action. 
While Joel plays with your nipples, you ride him. Your thighs ache and tremble, knees shaking. You bounce yourself on him a little longer before letting yourself go limp. 
Joel takes the hint, drops his hands to your hips and picks up where you left off. You lean back and let him do his thing. “Gonna make me do all the work for ya, huh?”
You say nothing, just let those sweet sounds fall from your lips as he fucks you. You reach between your thighs and touch what you can of him, unsatisfied with the way you didn’t get to before. Joel makes a noise, seemingly enjoying it.
He kneads your ass as he uses his strong arms to move you up and down, snapping his hips against yours. “Fuck,” he hisses. He lets out breathy sounds, grunts and growls tickling your ear and making the hair on your neck stand straight up. He’s sweating, soaking through his shirt and making your back feel damp. You’ll take what you can get of Joel right now, but you’re wishing you could see him better. Feel him more, his skin, watch his muscles twitch under you. Or above you. You don’t have a preference at the moment.
“Joel,” you moan. “Oh, Joel.”
He smirks, pleased with the noises you make. Pleased with your lack of words, your lack of attitude. How docile for him you are. He would have fucked you long ago if he knew you’d be like this. So well behaved. 
He turns his face into your neck and bites down. Hard. He soothes the marks over with his tongue, whispering nothings into your skin. You find your clit with your hand and begin circling it while Joel fucks into you. You think you have the right. Joel, however, disagrees.
“Hey,” he smacks your hand away. “What’d we talk about? Who’s in charge?” You move your hand between your thighs again, and Joel circles your wrist with his fingers and holds it away from you. “I asked you a question.”
“You are, Joel,” you breathe. 
“S’right. Means I take care of ya,” In the mirror, you watch Joel let go of your wrist and find your clit himself. “Thought you’d know better. Just sit pretty. S’all ya gotta do.”
“Joel,” you whisper, “Let me come,” 
“What’s the magic word, hon?”
“Please,” you beg. “Please. Make me come for you, I want–I wanna come on your cock, please. Please, Joel.”
“Wrong,”
You huff, exasperated and frustrated. 
 “It’s Cinnabon.”
Joel shifts himself on the bench, finding the perfect angle. He continues fucking you, effortlessly finding that sweet spot inside you. He pulls back the hood of your clit, fingers painting the sensitive nub as he begins his work. Your thighs tremble and shake, he keeps you pressed tight to his chest. 
He’s magic. You’re moaning with abandon, eyes darting between the picture between your thighs and his face, and he’s playing with you like he owns you. 
“Right there,” you tell him. “Right there, Joel.”
Soon enough, your moans become breathier and broken, spread out between a medley of curse words and Joel’s name. 
“Yeah,” he says. “Look at you, comin’ so nice on my cock.”
You squeeze Joel’s working arm as you come, nails digging into his hot skin, feeling his tendons and muscles twitch under your fingertips. Your walls pulse and contract with your orgasm, the pleasure built up deep inside you spilling over and coursing through your veins. 
You’re limp against Joel, letting him use you as he chases his own release. He sits you straight up, bounces you harshly for a moment before breathing through his gritted teeth. You pull your attention from the mirror in front of you and focus your vision on your lap, watching as he comes inside you. Watching yourself soak his cock. He keeps you moving, his spend spilling out of you and over your pink panties. 
Joel pulls your body off of him and sits you back down. His spend continues dripping out of you, spilling onto the bench. He gets your clothes out of the dressing room and places them next to you, then stands you up and unclips your babydoll dress in the back. You forgot about that. But he did say he was getting to it, after all. 
He pulls the garment off of you, then helps you out of your stained panties. He helps you into a new pair of panties, the white pair with the little blue flower on the waistband. “So you’re not goin’ commando anymore,” he says. Then he dresses you in one of your new bras, your shirt and your pants. The lingerie lays crumpled on the floor. 
“So you still don’t like lingerie?” you ask.
Joel shrugs. “Keep it. I don’t care,” He presses a kiss to your forehead. “You tried your shit on, we’re leavin’.”
That’s fine by you. Next stop is Bath and Body Works. You spotted it earlier, and you actually know what that store is. You’re low on body sprays and you’re gonna make Joel help you pick out some new ones, even if you have to drag him kicking and screaming. 
‘Cause Tommy said you’re in charge. 
Part two here
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