#tlouJackson

[skbeaumont]

"Make Me Wanna" | Jackson!Joel x Reader oneshot

Song: Make Me Wanna - Thomas Rhett Summary: Joel fucks you in the back of a truck. That's literally it. Tags/Warnings: MDNI, 18+, porn with a smattering of plot, smut, PIV, dirty talk, pets names (baby, darling), kind of dom!Joel, established relationship, Jackson era Word Count: 3.2k A/N: As always, the lyrics have been worked into the story, so if you can listen please do!

There are two working vehicles in Jackson. The school bus – a large van that serves as transport for the kids in the winter, when the paths freeze over and the snow falls too thick to walk through – and a ’75 Chevy Cheyenne. It’s the keys to this that Tommy hands Joel one early morning, the dry Wyoming summer heat already pushing the mercury up into the eighties.

The rest of the town are still asleep, but you, Joel, and Tommy are outside in the square, your conversation chorused by the call of the town’s raggedy old rooster. Joel’s having trouble concentrating on his brother’s instructions, his eyes flicking like the hands on a clock to the way the dress you pulled on this morning clings to your ass and hips, the thin cotton leaving very little to his imagination.

He’s sure you’ve done it on purpose; there can be no other reason to wear such an impractical outfit when you’re heading out beyond the wall. Sure, it’s an easy run – up to the dam, check everything’s in order, head back – but Joel’s not sure how he’s even going to make it there with you in that ridiculous damn dress, curves calling out to him. It makes him wanna-

“Joel, are even you listening?” Tommy’s voice cuts through his reverie, has him shaking his head like he’s trying to clear it of flies.

“Yeah, yeah.”

“What was the last thing I just said?”

“Uh,”

Tommy rolls his eyes and Joel looks at you for help, but you just smile at him innocently with dimples in your cheeks, batting your eyelashes like you don’t know exactly what you’re doing.

“Jesus Joel, can’t you concentrate for two minutes?”

Tommy relaunches into his lecture about the dam and the route, and Joel tries to pay attention to the words, tries to ignore the way you’re gliding a single finger across the small of his back, hand dipping under his shirt to reach the hot skin there. It’s such an innocent gesture, the pad of your finger caressing him gently, without urgency, but it sends electricity coiling up his spine.

For your part, it’s all you can do not to jump him here and now. Tommy’s early morning wakeup call disturbed what was shaping up to be a very pleasant morning in bed with Joel, and there’s an insistent warmth in your belly at the memory of his rough stubble on the back of your neck as you lay together in bed not an hour ago. You’re wondering how far you can push him, how riled up he’ll have to be before he sacks in this run and takes you back to bed.

Finally convinced that Joel’s taken on board at least some of what he’s said, or perhaps fed up of trying to talk to him while he’s clearly so distracted, Tommy leads you both to an old barn where the vehicles are kept. The chevvy is a faded, sun-bleached red: a worn leather front bench up front, large enough for three or four people to sit in a line, with an open bed in the back. You climb into the cab next to Joel, shuffle yourself over so that you’re almost in his lap where he sits at the wheel.

“Wanna explain what this is about?” He asks as he starts the engine, gesturing to the dress with his free hand.

“I’ve got no idea what you’re talking about.” You reply, and you can hear him rolling his eyes, hear the tight, whispered Jesus Christ as he shifts the truck into gear.

It’s a slow drive through Jackson; the narrow streets aren’t built for vehicles. Joel steers the truck around the chicken coops and picnic benches, taking you to the front of town where the gates are. Here, the watchers on the duty lever open the corrugated metal wall that separates Jackson from the wilderness outside, and Joel guides the truck through.

You haven’t had much of a chance to spend time outside the walls since your arrived in Jackson some four months ago, but even so, you find it hard to take in the countryside and wide, rolling hills with Joel sat next to you, his warm hand on your thigh. You trace patterns across the back of his hand, follow the lines of old scars and new scratches, let your fingertips trail higher, up to his bare wrist, over the prominent veins that sit just beneath his tan skin.

“I know what you’re doin’” He says, voice dark as he squeezes your thigh in his grip, a warning you’re bound to ignore.

“I’ve no idea what you’re talking about.” You repeat, letting go of his wrist to lean across in your seat, reaching for the glove box. You pull it open.

“Aha!” A cassette tape falls out into your hand, writing blurred with age but still legible. “County Sound FM.”

You slide it into the old cassette player set in the dash, hold your breath as it cracks and pops and then starts playing.

“Is this…” Joel turns his head slightly, angling so that the gentle rhythm and rolling melody can reach his good ear. “R.E.M.?”

“Man on the Moon,” You confirm, looking at the track listing on the cassette.

“Jesus.” He says, shaking his head.

He takes a right at the end of the main track up to Jackson, down a dirt road that’s overhung with dense trees. You let your eyes trace over his profile; the strong, curved line of his nose, dark stubble that’s flecked with grey. His jaw is set, but he’s nodding along with the music. He catches you watching him out of the corner of his eye and squeezes your thigh again, kneading the flesh there.

“You gotta stop looking at me that way, baby,” He says, shifting the fabric of your dress so that he can drag his hand further up your leg, the heat of his palm almost feverish against you.

You shift in the seat, open your legs wider, encouraging him to move higher still and then turn into him, press you lips against the juncture of his throat, inching your own hand over the front of his jeans where he’s already half hard.

“You know there’s only so much I can take,” His voice is gruff against the lightness of the country song. “You make me wanna…”

He trails off and you huff a laugh against his collarbone, move your mouth to his ear so that you can say, “make you wanna what, Joel?” into it.

“Pull this truck to the side of the road, for a start.” He says, turning his head to look at you.

His eyes are dark, expression serious, a frown creasing his brow. The hand he’s got on the steering wheel is gripping it tight, knuckles white against the dark leather of the grip. You can see the tension in his shoulders, his thighs when he shifts as you run the flat of your hand against his cock.

“If you don’t stop,” He says, voice catching in his throat, “I’m gonna- fuck, darlin’, Jesus Christ.”

He breaks off as you slip your hand suddenly under the waistband of his jeans, wrist barely squeezing between the buckle of his belt and his stomach. His cock jerks against your hand, smearing precum across your knuckles as you fight against the tight denim. “Gonna what?” You ask again, wrapping your fist around his cock, letting your thumb run over the silky tip of him. “Pull the truck over? Go on then.”

The truck veers to one side, brakes squealing out as Joel brings it to a stop at the side of the road, tree branches scratching against the windows.

“Slide on over, then,” He says, turning into you, leaning back and opening his legs so that you can climb into his lap.

His gaze is hot and hard and animalistic as you settle against him. You reach between your heaving chests to paw at the button to his jeans but he grabs your wrists, grins at you, eyes glinting.

“I’ll tell you what I’m thinking,” He says, wrapping two solid arms around and pulling you flush to his chest, mouth resting at the shell of your ear. “I’ll tell you everything I’m thinking.”

He buries his mouth at your throat, licks and sucks and nips at the tender flesh there, kneads your ass with his hands.

“I think you’re an impatient little thing who needs to learn some manners,” He says, his voice thick, “and I think I’m gonna take you to the back of this track and fuck you on the tailgate. How does that sound?”

He barely gives you a chance to answer, just tucks your dress out of the way so that he can reach down between your ass cheeks to the wet line of your panties, following the crotch round over your cunt to the hard nub of your clit, already swollen and throbbing under his ministrations.

“Joel, please,” You whine, as he teases you with two of his fingers, circling your entrance but not breaching it.

“You know better than to wear that dress, baby,” he says into your throat, “Oughta be against the law,”

He pulls back, fists a hand in your hair and drags your mouth to his. The kiss is heated and ferocious from the start; Joel pulls your lower lip into his mouth with his teeth, draws out your keening moans with a clever flick of his tongue.

“I need you, Joel, please,” You say, trying again to undo the button on his jeans.

“Ain’t room in here,” He says, reaching over the pop open his door, “in the back, like I said. C’mon.”

You follow him out and round to the back of the truck. He lets the tailgate fall with a soft clunk, takes his jacket off and spreads it out on the dusty metal of the truck bed.

“Hop on up,” He says, shooting you a grin that’s laced with mirth and heat, his eyes crinkling mischievously.

You do as he says, sitting up on the open tailgate. He steps between your thighs, presses them open with two large hands so that he can fit there. Running one hand up your chest to your breast, he presses his clothed cock against the wet line of your panties, circles his hips so that the rough denim catches against your clit and makes you moan.

When he pulls back he takes your panties off, dragging them down your legs with two fingers before pushing them into the pocket of his jeans. It makes your stomach clench, the sight of them peeking out, the pink lace a stark contrast to the worn dark denim, marking you as his. With them out of the way, Joel wastes no time in pressing two fingers into your soaking cunt, grinning down at you as you yelp at the sudden intrusion. It turns into a whimper as he bends them just so, the calloused pads of his fingertips searching out that tender spot inside that has you curling your toes and clawing at his shoulders.

“There she is,” He says, chuckling darkly, pressing the pad of his thumb to your clit and applying a steady, gentle pressure.

It’s intoxicating – the firm pressure of his fingers inside you, the sure, confident thrum of his thumb over your clit. It’s like being drunk on no alcohol, just Joel, his breathy sighs and warm scent enveloping you, wrapping you up in a haze of heady desire.

“Gonna come for me, darlin’?” He asks as he feels you start to tense around him.

He trails his free hand along the side of your jaw, drawing your face back to his so that he can kiss you again, swallow down your moans as you jolt and shake against him, the orgasm rising up suddenly in your belly, sending spikes of ecstasy through your quivering cunt.

“Good girl,” He whispers, drawing his fingers out.

He pulls them up to his mouth, places his fingertips against his lush bottom lip and slides his tongue over them, groaning at the taste of you.

“You wear this dress jus’ for me, baby?” He asks, fisting the fabric between his knuckles as he unbuckles his belt, “Know just how to turn me on, don’t you?”

You nod, watching him pull his cock out of the confines of his jeans. He drags the swollen, weeping head against your folds, drawing air in through his teeth as he does, hissing the breath back out.

“Good girl,” He keens, using the fist that’s clutching your dress to drag you forward in the truck bed so that he can line himself up. “Feel how hard I am for you, hmm, baby? Get me so goddamn worked up I can’t think straight.”

He presses the thick length of himself against you, covering his shaft with your slick. He pulls back slightly, places the fat head of his cock at the entrance of your cunt, curses through his teeth as he inches inside, a drawn out, breathy “fuck, baby”, that has desire coiling up your spine. A muscle jumps in his jaw as you watch his face, watch his eyebrows pull up as he sinks into you, the slight tilt to his mouth, a steady slow breath pouring out of him with the effort of not slamming into you in one hard thrust.

“Okay?” He asks, holding himself still when he bottoms out, waiting for your confirmation that he can keep going.

“Move, Joel, please, God.”

A chuckle echoes deep in his chest at this, and then he wraps his arms under your thighs, pulls you firmly into him and drags himself out before slamming back inside. He sets a punishing pace. It’s all you can do to grip onto his shoulders, dig your fingernails into the firm muscles of his back and let him fuck you, his cock kissing your cervix with each thrust. You watch the beads of perspiration rise on his forehead and cheeks, trace them as they roll down his face to his neck, the tendons there straining as he continues to pound into you. He’s quiet, mostly, grunting and cursing in a rasping voice, fuck, that’s it and Jesus Christ, baby.

“Got the softest pussy I’ve ever felt, darlin’.” He praises you, pressing kisses to your forehead, the side of your neck, groaning as he drags his teeth against your jaw, “gripping me so fucking tight.”

A familiar heat is coiling up inside you again, making your stomach clench and your toes curl in the boots you’re still wearing. Joel knows, can tell by the way you squeeze your eyes tight shut, hands gripping his forearms where they hold your thighs up. He changes the angle, shifts his hips so that his cock hits that spot inside you that has you seeing stars, spikes of pleasure sparking in your cunt right through to the tips of your fingers. You come around his cock, fingernails digging into the hard muscles of his arms, no doubt leaving indents that will mark him as yours when you return to town later.

“That’s it, baby, comin’ all over my cock like a good fuckin’ girl.” He presses his lips to yours, licks his tongue into your mouth, teeth biting into your bottom lip, pain blossoming into pleasure.

He slows his thrusts as you come down from your high, dragging his cock against the roof of your cunt and running a hand up your side, over the curve of your hips up to your breast. He pinches your nipple between his thumb and forefinger, soothes your moans with his mouth on yours, swallowing them as they fall from your lips.

“I know, baby, I know.” He says, picking up the pace again, snapping his hips to yours, fisting his hand into your hair. “Can you give me one more? One more and I’ll come in this perfect cunt, hmm?”

He reaches between your writhing bodies, presses his fingers to the bundle of nerves above where he’s thrusting into you and draws circles over your clit. The pressure is firm and fucking perfect, Joel’s fingers confident and sure in what they’re doing. He knows your body like the back of his hand, has spent hours learning how to make you come. It only takes a few minutes before you feel yourself tightening around his cock again, eyes squeezing shut, but this time he lets go of your thigh with his free hand and grabs your chin.

“Eyes open, baby, I want you to look at me while I make you come.”

And you do, locking your eyes onto his. His pupils are blown wide, eating into the chocolate brown of his irises. His brow is furrowed with the effort of fucking you, making the lines that paint his face stand out. There’s a bead of sweat sliding down one cheek, and he bites his lip between his teeth as you come, cunt clenching around him.

“Fuck, that’s it baby, good girl” He keeps circling his fingers as you come, drawing out your orgasm, his voice vibrating in your chest. “Jesus Christ, I’m gonna come. Shit.”

He groans, holding himself still as he spurts inside you, ropes of come painting your cunt as you contract around him. You’re both breathless then, panting and holding each other, your fingers pinching his skin, his hand tangled in your hair.

“I can’t believe we did that.” You say, suddenly laughing as you realise how reckless you’ve been, out here in the middle of nowhere, Joel’s gun long since forgotten on the back seat of the truck.

“Well, you know better than to wear that dress,” Joel says, pressing his lips to your cheek, the corner of your mouth, the side of your neck. “You make me wanna…”

#joel miller #joel miller fic #joel miller smut #joel x reader #joel x you #the last of us fic #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #pedro pascal #joel miller fanfic #jackson!joel #tlouJackson #SoundCloud

[tlousana-blog]

— ❝ medications and friendships ; msn&wjk

[ @tloujackson ]

The laboratory wasn’t very far away from the hospital.

It was common for the researching laboratories to be close to hospitals because of the resources. In the world they lived now, this didn’t make much sense. Only part of the hospital was working because of the plague. The years had passed and some of the walls had crumbled. This was part of the cycle. Nothing lasted forever. Some buildings fell down and some sources were lost. It was very hard to find electricity in town and other essentials items. The new generation had gotten used to this. However, a hospital and a laboratory needed electricity to work. The machines needed to function. Some machines had been handmade to save energy. The government had taken care of everything, because they needed to find the cure. That was their main priority.

However, some other medications were also needed. Some could be synthesized in the laboratory.

Painkillers were always a must in a hospital. But some other drugs were very rare or scare.

Sana didn’t have the resources she needed to synthesize every single drug to save someone, but even in her secret laboratory at home, she was able to produce some extra drugs that they weren’t allowed to create in the government’s laboratory.

After leaving her work earlier today, the young woman went straight away to her mother’s laboratory. Some new compound was being dried since the day before and now, she only needed to use the compressor to unite the particles into tiny clusters. This was how she produced her pills. Drugs and medications were easy to sell in a solid state. There were obviously some chemical issues connected to this, but this was the only way to get drugs in their world now.

It took her only a couple of hours to be done. Pouring all the pills into a tiny bottle, she wrote the name ‘Wang’ on the label before she left. The hospital was only a few streets away from her house. She was only hoping that her father wouldn’t be outside of the building or he would be wondering why she wasn’t at home, since she had left the laboratory a few hours ago.

Sana didn’t have any problem at reaching the hospital or in finding the person she had been looking for.

Luckily for them, the biochemist had found him alone.

“Was this what you needed, Wang?” She asked him, taking the bottle from her pocket and showing up the label. She had written there not only his name, but also the name of the medication.

#tloujackson #para: jackson #para: medications and friendships #{ my title sucks but I hope you like the starter :3 sorry for taking so long <3 }

[tlouxkyungsoo-blog]

vows; (wjs + wks)

@tloujackson

Wang Jackson was finishing up for the day. He lived atop the hospital so he could always be on call should he be needed. There was just one more person to treat before he could go home. The male looked like his twin and this made him sigh internally. His twin had been missing for a few weeks and he was starting to get worried. What if something had happened to him?

Jackson couldn’t think about that now. He had a patient to treat. He smiled as he finished up and made his way towards his room. He chewed his lower lip as he thought about his older brother. Where could he be?

Kyungsoo thanked his lucky stars for the short distance between the East Tunnel and his brother’s hospital. By the time he darkened the doorway with his bloody and bruised shadow, his boots dragged underneath him. His left arm ached the whole way, draining him of his remaining strength as he sat himself in the dying light of the sun. Breathe. Breathe. Breathe. Just take a couple breaths.

Overhead, he heard scuffling and the surge of relief pushed him from his seat. Jack. Oh thank fuck. Jack was here, safe behind the walls of necessity; no one would attack a hospital unless the city descended into total war. His legs propelled him up the stairs to the second floor. Down the hall, a familiar set of shoulders retreated back toward the private rooms Jack and Kyungsoo claimed for themselves.

“J-ack!” He called out, throat dry and thick with dust. 

#;;submit #submission #tloujackson #tlouxkyungsoo

[tlouxlei-blog]

Lost In Translation | J&LS

Liking someone- Lei never thought he’d live to see that day. There was always the push to date, even in these times. The guys would talk about the girls they would get with and the married men who were lucky enough to still have their wives would tell them how their relationship was stronger than ever. He would hear about first dates and first kisses, how smiles meant different things, that body language was always the first thing to look out for. Somehow, horniness was never was the first thing on Lei’s list of problems, but he didn’t speak for the others- He just sat back with open ears and listened to the rest rant about their lack of intimacy. Maybe that was something he should think about, attraction. Of course he only knew the physical, but he never understood how that could be the only precursor to getting in bed with someone. Was that all there was to it?

But somewhere along the way of his grand exploration of sexuality and jumbled mess of questions regarding sex and first times, Lei didn’t really expect to become interested in the young man that never spoke. Truthfully, he never expected to start liking anyone. Yet the words scrawled onto paper had him smiling, had his stomach twirling. Which at first he thought was a sickness and was only made fun of by a doctor when Lei voiced his concerned. Lei has a crush. It was a mockery and the other soldiers followed suit, making slight jabs at him when he spoke about Jackson. But he didn’t understand... what was he supposed to crush?

He grew a habit of visiting the guy when he wasn’t supposed to and was even scolded for not showing up to patrol duty on time, but Lei just apologized, knowing fully well that the cycle would just start over the following week. Which is how he got to the point he was out now, hand waving at the lonely man sitting on the roof of what used to be considered a small cafe. Now of course, it was run over by vines and flowers and open air, but this side of the outskirts was relatively safe- What more could he ask for? 

“Having fun?”

@tloujackson​

#{ para } #{ p; lit } #tloujackson

[etxjonghyun]

Revenge | Jonghyun & Jackson

A hand pulled the magazine forward and the lug on the front of the feeding device engaged with its recess in the magazine well. He pulled it further to the rear until it snapped into place, a crack sound leaving behind and he secured it with one arm, walking with a mild place through the forest. His eyes were no longer with his usual docile gaze that he had seconds before when he was with his beloved -- instead it had turned into several shades darker, matching perfectly well the rage he had within him.

He was tired of these little games, tired of following and hiding in the shadows. Tired of looking and finding, but then losing it the next moment. He had wasted more time than what he had expected, trying to find every single way the other used, trying to study his macabre methods. The silver-haired man never had found where was that little shit's shelter, nor the place that man usually abused others, but he knew every single path, every single way. And now it was more than time to actually put his plan into action. He concluded the only way to get justice for his murdered Firefly fellow was to avenge his death. So the plan was quite simple -- give that motherfucker the torture he once gave... And let him die covered in blood and wounds.

An ominous smirk graced his lips, the thought of finally being able to end such a regret was utterly satisfying. The weather seemed to match such a remarkable event --- the dark clouds seemed to paint the sky, predicting a sudden fall of strong rain that would probably end in a storm. A low laugh left his lips as he walked towards the same area where he had seen the other before, stepping on the same spots the other once had stepped. The anticipation was slowly increasing within him, forcing the blood to move through his veins faster than before. He as ready, so damn ready.

Jonghyun wasn't the type that would end or resolve his problems with fights and deaths; he was far from being a killer... But also equally far from being warm hearted. Still, killing others for pleasure wasn't on his 'to-do list', but this time... This specific time... An exception would be made. Because when it comes to justice and morals, Jonghyun was the perfect man to actually put them into practice.

He stopped on his track once he was finally in the area where he had last seen the other; aware that from now on, infected were also close by. Crouching down near the bushes, Jonghyun waited until he could hear the footsteps. He would follow him; would finally find where was his little shelter. And from that moment on, only actions would be shown.

#p:revenge #p:starter #tloujackson