₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊ M ₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊

𝔟𝔩𝔬𝔴𝔱𝔬𝔯𝔠𝔥𝔞𝔭𝔭𝔩𝔦𝔢𝔡𝔱𝔬𝔰𝔲𝔤𝔞𝔯'𝔰 𝔪𝔞𝔰𝔱𝔢𝔯𝔩𝔦𝔰𝔱

𝐏𝐞𝐝𝐫𝐨 𝐏𝐚𝐬𝐜𝐚𝐥

𝘑𝘰𝘦𝘭 𝘔𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘳

Purgatory- 4.1k words~ You were a tried and true catholic even despite the apocalypse, and Joel had slowly learned to accept it.

Gouge & Uproot- 2.2k words~ Joel was always gentle with you, until a bad day persuades him otherwise.

Oneida- 4.7k words~ Joel tries to break up with you, only wanting the best for you.

Lady May- 1.1k words~ Fluff of you and Joel's relationship.

Something to Hold Onto- 4.0k words~ You and Joel's relationship didn't work out, but neither of you can seem to let go yet.

𝘔𝘢𝘳𝘤𝘶𝘴 𝘈𝘤𝘢𝘤𝘪𝘶𝘴

Annabel Lee- 4.0k words~ Your adoring husband returns from battle.

Marcus Acacius Headcanons- Small headcanon post

𝘛𝘦𝘥 𝘎𝘢𝘳𝘤𝘪𝘢

Heart-Shaped Box- 4.3 words ~ You are Ted Garcia's faithful assistant.

𝐌𝐲 𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐦𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥 𝐑𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞

I don't really write MCR anymore, but any of my bandom works can be found here.

𝐑𝐄𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐒/𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐒- HERE

I do take requests/ideas, although there is no guarantee that I may write/post them. You can submit those here. Thank you so much!

𝒮𝑜𝓂𝑒𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓉𝑜 𝐻𝑜𝓁𝒹 𝒪𝓃𝓉𝑜 (4.0k words)

Relationship: Joel Miller x Reader

Summary: You and Joel's relationship didn't work out, but neither of you can seem to let go yet.

Warnings: smut, pinv sex, angst, oral sex, slight cnc implications (like blink and you'll miss it), nipple play bc Joel Miller is a boob man, not beta read, passionate sex

Author's Note: This is HEAVILY inspired by Something to Hold Onto by The Home Team! It's a great song, I recommend to listen while reading. forgive me for the angst ALSO! sorry if this reads a bit rough :/ i'm trying to be better about showing instead of saying... but I also try my best to be a very clear and concise writer too LMFAO. i hope yall like <3

Your finger hovered over the call button for probably a half-hour by now. Deciding to do it, bite your pride and press the button, working up the courage, and then backing out at the very last second and reconsidering. Rinse and repeat.

After about the eighth time of your never-ending spiral, your finger hit the green emblem on accident, a split second slip up. You immediately panicked, not sure if you should hang up or not. If you hung up, he’d see you called all the same, but if you didn’t hang up, he’d obviously pick up, and probably berate you for calling again at this hour-

“Hello? Have you gone deaf or somethin’? Or are you just calling me for shits and giggles now, huh?” His voice was rough, like he’d tried to sleep earlier and couldn’t. You knew him well enough to know he was probably hunched over his woodworking desk, carving away at something he would inevitably bring to you, even if he always groused that he never thought of you.

“W-What? I didn’t…” You stammer out suddenly, your voice just as rough, although less aggressive, less demanding.

More… sad. That tone that he’d come to recognize as the one you had when you’d been crying and upset and hesitating to call him.

He was quiet on the other line for a moment, before sighing. You could hear something clack against wood, maybe something in his hand against his desk or maybe his chair against the wood floors.

“Sunshine… I thought we agreed we can’t keep doing this.” He murmurs, more exasperated than offended now.

“I know. I know we did. I just… The house is so empty, and… I’ve been having a tough time lately.” The telltale sniffle followed, with the sound of you wiping your face. “I just don’t want to be alone tonight.”

He knew better than to argue, or to deny you. In fact, he couldn’t. As much as he knew he was no good for you, he could never not give you want you wanted, what you needed. You two might not be involved anymore, but he still felt at your beck and call, even if he ended every single time with a lecture about how he couldn’t keep coming back, how it wasn’t good for either of you.

You heard a shuffle on the line, the sound of footsteps and heavy boots being thunked onto a floor. “I’ll be over in ten… Door’s unlocked, I’m assuming?” He quipped.

The door had been a point of contention. He strongly disliked how you always left your doors unlocked, even if you shrugged and said you preferred him having “easy access” if there was an emergency.

“Of course,” You replied, a soft hint of humor in your voice.

“What am I going to do with you?” He huffs before cutting the call, leaving you in the dead silence again.

You didn’t even like being alone for the ten minutes it took him to walk over.

It was a miracle in your eyes that Joel Miller was your neighbor, for many reasons. Most importantly, he was always there, just a short walk away.

No wife, no kids, just his small property with sheep and a dog, which had always been enough for him. Tommy still ran Miller Contracting, but Joel retired as soon as he’d made enough to buy himself a fixer upper, spending his days rebuilding his house, tending to his sheep, or woodworking. Five acres of his own land to put his blood, sweat, and tears into as he grew older.

You were a wild card. You’d moved in just a handful of years ago with your parents, a twenty-something year old with a bright disposition and eyes that looked like they intended to accomplish anything they set their sights on. The only daughter, out of college, back home with hopes of finding peace and fulfillment of a small farm.

Those starry eyes had gotten darker the last year, though. After years of Joel overhearing the cracklings of thunder in the distance of a troubled marriage between your parents, everything came crashing down during the divorce.

Your mother, ever the saint, demanded the entire house and property- which she was awarded on a gold platter. Unsurprisingly, the woman who only wanted to own a farm so she could brag about how “in touch with the earth” she was, didn’t care much for the actual work, leaving everything to fall on your shoulders.

Which, of course, sent you running into his arms.

Alright, maybe not immediately. At first, it was innocent. Joel was a gentleman, only interested in helping a neighbor just as he would any.

Then, he started seeing glimpses and peeks of the softer, more sensitive girl underneath the exterior. The girl that was running herself ragged just trying to stay afloat, who didn’t even have time for her own friends or dating, unless the first date was collecting eggs from the chickens.

He'd grown a fondness towards you, one that you returned. He found himself sticking around more often, staying for dinner, delivering leftover wood or extra tools he had from projects of his.

It happened out of nowhere, really. He'd had good intentions. But when you practically tackled him one night, pressing your lips to his like a starved animal… How could he resist those soft curves, those gorgeous tits, the way you moaned his name before he’d even touched you below the belt?

It was a shitshow from there.

Joel knew two things, mainly. One- this was no good. He was an old man, one who had no business messing around with a girl your age, a girl who should be flirting with guys her age at bars and going out with friends at night.

And two- you were a woman who was soul-crushingly lonely. No friends to go out with, much less guys to flirt with, and the family you had wasn’t present in any way that mattered.

It was an impasse, then. Joel knew what the two of you were doing was wrong, but he also would rather sell all of his land and move to a condo in Florida than risk hurting you and forcing you to be on your own.

An impasse that you both danced around for months and months, torturing yourselves. The sex was great, sure, but you wanted a boyfriend- a husband, even. You wanted time, energy, effort. To feel special, to have a partner.

That wasn’t Joel. He didn’t want other women, but he wasn’t one for settling down.

It was only making everything worse. You would get angry at him for not putting more effort in, he would snap and remind you he never wanted a relationship, you would cry, he would feel guilty and apologize, then you’d feel guilty and apologize, then sex, and even more sex until you’d both forgotten the problem.

The problem never faded, though. Things became more tense with time, something not even great make-up sex could fix.

The end was surprisingly mutual. A couple days after your parent’s divorce actually finalized, you sat him down and admitted that you didn’t want to be like them; always chasing after something that wasn’t yours and wasn’t real.

As much as it killed him to see the despair in your eyes, he knew you were right. You were a great girl, who deserved a man who would settle down, give you a house full of kids, give you huge bouquets on birthdays and anniversaries, show you off to all his friends.

You managed to stay away from him for a whole month before the calls started.

The first time, it was a fluke. You just needed comfort, attention.

The second time, a week later, was less defensible, but still compulsory. You were trying, but you were human.

By the tenth time of beckoning him, you weren’t sure what it was anymore. You’d lost your dignity and shame a while ago, leaving only a hole to be filled- both literally and figuratively.

It was the same each time, too. He’d show up, scolding but not unkind, and you’d feel guilty and weak for needing him.

This time was no different. He’d slip in the back door, as if he was still nervous of being caught, as if your mother would be here. She never was.

You’d hear his footsteps creaking up the stairs, both comforting and intimidating. He’d lecture you, try to convince you that you didn’t need him.

But yet, he still showed up. Every single time.

This time, even the footsteps sound tired. Slow, like he was worn from this game.

He leans against the doorway when he finally makes it up, taking in the sight of you in your bed, tears not yet dried on your face.

This time, you felt guilty. He didn’t deserve this. To be called back whenever you wanted, to fill the void.

“You don’t have to stay. I can be okay on my own.” You say before he can speak up. Your voice is trembling, though, like even you can’t make yourself believe it.

He approaches you slowly, considering something quietly. You can practically see the gears turning in his head, of trying to figure out what to say.

Instead, his big hands find your cheeks, his calloused thumbs brushing the wet streaks away.

Something dawned on him in this moment: This wasn’t about him. He had his problems with you, his qualms with what the relationship had devolved into, but…

When you stared at him your tragic eyes focused on his, like he offered some sort of absolution.

He couldn’t help but realize that he wouldn’t be able to cope if he was any bit as alone as you. He had to let go of what he believed to be right, of what he wanted, to give you this small favor, this peace. That was the only way you’d learn.

He searched your expression for any hesitation, for any sign that he should just leave.

He found none, so he found himself pressing his lips against yours carefully.

It was slow, much slower than usual. Usually, your midnight romps were quick, and hot, just skin and teeth.

You’d only taken your time with him a few times. When it didn’t feel like the weight of the world was crushing you, you wanted quick, hard. But you needed something else tonight. You didn’t want it to hurt; you wanted it to ache.

He pushed you back onto your bed, but not too hard. You fall back with a quiet “oof,” landing on your stomach.

Joel doesn’t waste any time in pulling your pajama shorts down, pressing kisses to the backs of your thighs and ass as he goes. Appreciating you, indulging you.

His lips against your skin tickles, sending chills up your back and making you squirm. He can’t help but chuckle softly. It feels weirdly more intimate than usual.

You weren’t sure what he was doing until you heard his knees crack as he lowered to the floor, a telltale sign of his age. His nose brushed against your still covered cunt.

You flinch again, your body jerking away instinctively from his beard tickling your inner thighs. He quickly manhandled you back into place, not letting you wriggle away this time.

Soft laughter spills from your throat, playfully fighting against his grip on your arms to keep you in place.

“You’re the one who called me, darlin’. Gonna fight me?” He questions gruffly, but you can hear the humor in his voice. “That’s okay. I’ll take what I want anyway.”

You felt your stomach flip at this, your cunt clenching accordingly. He was always a perfect gentleman, careful to make you comfortable and never cross any lines or force you into anything. But the idea, the implication that he could just use you, could take whatever he wants from you… it was unreasonably hot. Like even though you weren’t his anymore, you still could be.

You don’t respond, your brain trying to catch up. But Joel is quicker.

“You liked that, honey?” This time, he presses wet kisses to the closest area of your inner thighs, making heat engulf your stomach.

“’Course not… You were just… tickling me.” You huff, rolling your eyes, even if he can’t see them.

He can’t help but scoff flippantly. “You’re a bad liar. You’re soaked. Can see it through your panties. Losing your mind over a few words.”

Despite Joel’s abundance of qualities of a gentleman, he wasn’t a patient man. He pulls your underwear off, abandoning them on the floor.

He dives in without any bravado, his nose nudging your pussy. You sigh happily, feeling his tongue carefully swipe over your clit. You arch your hips instinctively, giving him better access to do as he pleases with you.

The pleasure of his mouth makes you feel floaty quicker than you expect. He mixes it up every few motions, going from his tongue swaying back and forth, making shapes against your clit, to sucking just hard enough to have you seeing stars.

You moan out steadily, garbled mutters of, “fuck, yes,” and “don’t stop, Joel,” as the knot tightens in your lower stomach.

You rock back against him, feeling both his spit and your own slick drip down your legs, his wet chin rubbing against your messy thighs.

Your breathing is uneven as you bury your head against your sheets. He didn’t stop or hesitate for even a second, the waves of pleasure rushing over you with every lick and suck. He could feel the way you clenched around nothing, when you arched like his attention was both too much and not enough.  

Your moans became high pitched and quick, more like whines. He doesn’t pull back for a single second, sending you diving off the edge of a cliff.

He only slowed when you squirmed with overstimulation instead of anticipation, pressing sloppy kisses to your legs again while he hauled himself off the floor. He huffs a few times, his age yet again showing.

His hands quickly found your hips, petting the naked skin there. You could feel all of the callouses on his hands, a reminder of all the hard work he did on the daily, without a single complaint.

A reminder that you could go out and find a rich boy, a city man with soft hands who would make sure you’d never lift a single one of your perfectly manicured fingers ever again. But that required work, vulnerability, risk. And Joel was… always here. Always a call away. Always cares about you. It was easy and safe.

He flipped you over onto your back suddenly, his hands moving down from your hips to your knees, hooking you and pulling you closer to him.

Your eyes found his, his expression hard, almost intimidating- a look you’d come to crave.

He towers over you, that beautiful expression as he takes your lips with his own, all but climbing on top of you. The feeling of his heavy body on top of you is welcomed.

Your instinct is to speed things up, grind against him like an animal. Feverish and fervent.

But Joel, as he often did, pulled you back and tamed you. He broke his lips from yours, tutting softly.

“Hey, hey, hey. I’m right here. Slow down. I’m here. Okay?”

His eyes never left yours, as if the two of you were having a staring contest.

A lump lodged itself in your throat at his insistence. You felt your breath hitch. Even when you open your mouth to agree, nothing comes out but a pathetic sound.

“Oh, sunshine… I’m right here. I promise. Not going anywhere.” He says, holding his upper body up with his left arm so he could cradle your face with his right. “You hear me? I’m here.” He repeats, his voice as gentle as it had always been.

You nod feebly, finally finding your voice. “Okay.”

He nods back carefully. “Okay.” He brings his lips close to yours again but stops just short, as if he’s testing you. At first you begin to move, wanting to connect the space. You see him raise his eyebrows ever so slightly and pause, though. “Slow. Take it easy.” He commands again.

He finally closes the gap, kissing you. Just as he requested, it’s slow and attentive. Instead of feeling teeth against teeth, tongues fighting while bodies mashed together in whatever way either of you could find pleasure, you breathed into the feel of his large body pressed against you. His jeans caged your legs in, your still clothed chest pressed against his, feeling his muscles shifting with each movement. You can suddenly understand why some people prefer foreplay instead of just immediately jumping each other’s bones.

His kisses then trailed from your lips to your neck and chest, making his way down any skin he could find. When he reached the material of your shirt, he slipped it off. Pleased to find nothing but the vast expanse of your bare skin, he continued his kisses down.

His hands wrap around your breasts, taking time to appreciate them. It was no secret to you that he was a tits man through and though, but never took his time to worship what was, in his humble opinion, one of the best parts of a woman.

His lips latched onto your left nipple, and you find yourself threading your fingers through his hair with a contented sigh. You crane your neck to look down at him. A new wave of arousal blooms at the sight of him adoring on you like that.

He releases the now sensitive nipple and shifts to the other, repeating until he can feel your breathing speed up against him.

You feel weak, almost hazy by the time he finally pulls off of your right nipple. Your eyes had slipped shut after a couple minutes. Everything felt electrified like a livewire.

“Joel… Please… Need you. Need to feel you. Please.” You beg, knowing it was his weakness. Just as he couldn’t say no when you begged him to crawl back, he also couldn’t ignore your pretty voice when it was all desperate and whiny.

“Aw, hell, honey.” His patience is clearly waning, his demands to take it slow and easy fading. “C’mere.”

You take that as your sign to pull his shirt off, the grey fabric discarded wherever your clothes went on the floor.

He let you unzip his jeans, a soft sigh escaping when you brush two fingers against the bulge.

He waits until you least expect it, and that’s when he attacks. He pushes you back onto the bed, trapping each of your hands under the strong grip of his hands.

“Let me. Want you to lay back. Remind you of who’s in charge here,” He declares.

His hands hold yours hard enough to leave bruises, but both of you know that you like that. You prefer reminders that he had been here.

He deals with his jeans and boxers, swiping the hot head of his cock against your cunt softly. It makes you arch on instinct, the contact feeling even more delicious and stimulating after your first orgasm.

A glob of his spit lands on his cock before he pushes into you. The stretch hurts a bit, but you’re more concerned about the delightful feeling of being full, of having him as close as humanly possible.

He’s still on top of you, waiting until he’s fully inside you to settle. You bury your nose against his neck, gripping onto him and nuzzling against his shoulder.

Considering his patience was faltering, he was being surprisingly slow still. He’s still trying to take it easy, despite his dick urging him to destroy your tight, wet pussy, to take whatever he wants from you.

But he’d done that before. There wasn’t anything you weren’t willingly going to give him.

So instead, he settled on slow but hard thrusts. He builds up momentum with each time that his hips pulled away before bulldozing into you, almost with the weight of his entire body.

It has you seeing stars almost on just the first thrust, the deep feeling of his cock gliding in and out of your velvety cunt heavenly. You can practically feel each ridge, the heat of his skin inside you, his heartbeat as he tries to hold himself back.

The pace does something to him embarrassingly quick. You find yourself digging your fingernails into his back and shoulders, holding him impossibly close as both of your bodies recoiled with the force of his thrusts.

He begins moaning after only a couple minutes, his voice low and dark, like he hadn’t intended to be so close to coming so quickly.

He groans pitifully. “You feel that? Feel my dick? Feel how I’m using you? You’re going to feel me for days, darlin’. Feel that ache that I gave to you, that I always give you.”

His words are disjointed, interrupted with deep moans, feeling his balls twitch with the familiar burn of imminent release.

He sneaks a hand down to your clit, shoving two fingers into his mouth before going to town. It was the last little push you needed to have you headed full steam ahead to a mind-numbing orgasm.

Your brain was essentially mush at this point, not a single coherent thought produced. Just that animalistic urge for more, of need and needing now.

Very rarely had your brain been as blank and worry free as when Joel was inside of you, your walls clenching onto him as if he may disappear suddenly.

Your own whimpers began to line up with his moans, his thrusts becoming more sloppy and a bit quicker, more focused on pleasure and release now.

He applied a bit more pressure to his movements on your clit and that was all you could handle. You aren’t even sure where the orgasm starts or stops, just an endless wave of heaven and searing pleasure.

Joel is barely hanging on, sweat clinging onto his face as he drives into your perfect cunt, his balls beginning to tighten. He pulls out in record time, streaks of come spilling onto your stomach, still heaving with your breathing.

Both of you pant loudly for a few moments, not even able to process anything until you catch your breaths and your heart rates begin to calm slowly.

He runs a hand through your hair, looking at your dazed expression as you stare at him.

“You alright? I didn’t hurt you, right?” He asks, the concern he’d always harbored for you peeking through.

You smile softly, running your fingers through the come left on your stomach.

“No. It was… perfect.” You affirm. You almost added something, about how it was different, or it felt new somehow, but you keep your mouth shut, staying in the quiet moment instead.

He cleans the both of you up, dutifully wiping you with a damp washcloth and cleaning himself off. Your bones feel like jello so you let him take care of things while you watch him with a soft smile, lounging on the bed.

He notices your soft smile when he climbs into bed beside you, making himself comfortable in your sheets. He smiles back, opening his arm in a gesture to encourage you into his arms.

He stays awake as you drift off wordlessly in his arms, watching as your eyes slide closed, a peaceful sleep finally finding you.

For the first time, when you wake in the morning, the sunlight bleeding into the room even despite the curtains, Joel isn’t there. He’s gone, the house once again empty and quiet.

𝓐𝓷𝓪𝓫𝓮𝓵 𝓛𝓮𝓮 (4.0k words)

Relationship: Marcus Acacius x Reader

Summary: Your adoring husband returns from battle.

Warnings: smut, pinv sex, lovey dovey Marcus, gentle(ish) sex

Authors Note: I haaaad to start this one with my favorite part of Annabel Lee because it's just so Marcus coded to me. I absolutely LOVE writing Marcus because I get soooo invested in Roman history. I've spent most of the night writing this learning about Roman bathhouses LMFAO.

"The angels, not half so happy in Heaven, went envying her and me- Yes! That was the reason that the wind came out of the cloud by night, chilling and killing my Annabel Lee. But our love it was stronger by far than the love of those who were older than we- Of many far wiser than we- And neither the angels in Heaven above nor the demons down under the sea can ever dissever my soul from the soul of the beautiful Annabel lee. For the moon never beams, without bringing me dreams of the beautiful Annabel Lee; And the stars never rise, but I feel the bright eyes of the beautiful Annabel Lee; And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side of my darling- my darling- my life and my bride, in her sepulchre there by the sea- in her tomb by the sounding sea."

-Excerpt from Annabel Lee by Edgar Allen Poe

You awoke in the morning to the unusual sound of Marcus breathing.

You furrowed your eyebrows; eyes still closed with the tinges of sleep slowing your brain. You felt a hand trace your forehead and hair, and you lean into it.

“Marcus? You’re supposed to be away for another two weeks,” You sigh, certain that you were just dreaming.

“My gorgeous lady…” He sighed back, applying a bit more pressure with his fingers. You easily get chills. “Our campaign finished early, we made good progress. I returned early this morning. I’ve only been here but an hour. You were sleeping so peacefully. I didn’t dare wake you. My enchantress, my dove.”

You opened your eyes finally, to see him in his place, kneeling on the floor as he peered up at you in the bed. You smiled immediately, overwhelmed with the reality that the love of your life was home again.

You rush towards him, pressing your lips against his. He chuckles as much as he can into the kiss.

You pull away to inspect him, holding his face in your hands. You see a few new scars and marks, and you frown.

“How are you, my love? I thought of you every second of every day. Are you hurt?” You rattle off.

He clicks his tongue, shaking his head softly. “No more than usual. It was a difficult crusade, though. My age is starting to show, I’m afraid. I’m not sure how much longer I can carry on such cruelty in the name of the emperor twins.” He admits with pain and exhaustion in his expression. It makes your heart tremble.

You caress his face again, tsking. “You’re not old. Not at all. But… I do agree that the twins have gone too far. I worry about you more and more each time you leave. Their eyes are too big for their stomachs.”

Marcus snickers again, admiring how astute you were- especially when it came to how corrupt the empire was.

His smirk fell quickly, though. “You needn’t worry, my dove. I always return to you, don’t I?”

You tilt your head, your gaze softening. “You do. I always trust you will, but that doesn’t stop me from worrying.”

He takes one of your hands from his face, kissing the skin softly before moving to kiss each finger. “I’ll tell you this much… Even if I am fell in battle, I will stay alive long enough to crawl home to you, no matter how far. I will always return to you, heart and soul.”

Your eyes soften even more. Despite being an acclaimed war general, he somehow had the softest and sweetest tongue. It never failed to disarm you.

You noticed he was still in his garments from battle, the black and gold body armor on top of the maroon tunic, and you want to do what you do best when your words fail you and you can’t begin to communicate how much he means to you.

Take care of him.

You slide your body away from his temporarily to walk around the bed, coming to stand in front of him. You brush your fingertips against his scalp, able to feel the dirt and grime built up in his curly locks.

He immediately nuzzles his head against your stomach, your sleeping tunic rubbing against his cheek and nose. You smile and laugh quietly, looking down at him.

“Come. Let me bathe you, my love.” You say, watching as he smirks in response.

“What a polite way of telling me I smell rancid,” He teases, accepting your hand to help him stand.

You roll your eyes before looking up into his, your expression full of affection. Despite his joke, you press your lips to his. His hands find and tighten on your hips, tracing your curves through your tunic.

“No more than usual, your highness,” You retort when you break the kiss, grinning at his enthused reaction.

He lets you guide him to the bathing room. You were thankful that the amenities of being wed to General Acacius included a private bath house, affording you these moments of intimacy- especially when he was exhausted from war.

You direct him to a slab, beginning to undress him. You untied each piece of his armor with great attention, carefully picking at the knotted strings holding it all together. You lay each piece on the slab tenderly.

You had a love-hate relationship with this armor. On one hand, it kept your husband, your flame, your everything, safe. Protected him when you weren’t there.

But, on the other hand, it was what forced him away from you. Months away at sea or fighting in distant and foreign lands at the wave of the emperor’s hands. It infuriated you. People starving, dying in the streets, being forced to fight each other for entertainment, being sold and traded as trafficked slaves… and the ghostly brothers whose hands it laid upon instead called for more war, more conquering, more death.

They were parasites. Diseases somehow set at the head of Rome, the both of them. They would be the cause of your husband’s demise; you were certain of it.

You tried not to let it show to Marcus, most of the time. He knew very well what you thought of it all, and he shared every opinion with you and agreed with you on every point. Spent hours ranting about his distaste for such carelessness and greed that was certain to contaminate the history of such a revolutionary empire.

But ultimately, there was only so much he could do. The general only held so much power, limited still despite being the most powerful Roman general. He wanted change, he wanted them gone, but he had to be calculated with his choices and steps. It was all an elaborate dance, and one mistaken move would stop the music, tear the illusion of subservience away.

You set the chest piece down last, about to begin moving to pull his focale from his neck, when he grabs your wrists tenderly.

“You think too loudly, my dove.” He sighs, and your arms go limp in his hold.

“I know. You just… you know how… challenging this is for me. How sick it all is.”

“Of course. I know it very well. And I wish, more than anything, I could take that pain away from you, from us. I would do it ten times over if I were able.”

You mellowed. “That much I’m certain of, I know it better than the back of my hand. I just… wish things were simpler. I wish you didn’t carry this burden.”

“It is my burden, though. Not yours, little one. Anyway, let neither of us possess any burdens or worries, though, just for a little while. We can worry about it later, and we can talk about everything as much as you’d like. But for now, my dove, for today… Just let us… be.”

You find yourself nodding without hesitation. A bit selfishly, you hadn’t considered how your persistence in expressing your anger on everything affected him. He was certainly worn out from the endless months away, and you needed him just as much as he needed you.

“You’re right. I’m sorry. I didn’t intend to be difficult. I just want to be at peace with you, right now.”

“You needn’t apologize. You have nothing to apologize for. I’m not resentful. I just am… so drained from the eternity of bloodshed. I can’t bare to think of it more.” He admits, more faintly this time.

It killed you to see how affected he was mentally. There was only so much brutality a man could take.

You pressed your lips to his again, wanting to comfort the both of you. He was here, in front of you right now, and that meant something. It mattered the most, in fact. He hadn’t been lost to you yet.

You continued to undress him. First the focale, then his arm bands and pteruges tassels around his waist, until he was left only in his tunic and sandals. You knelt down, tapping each of his legs for him to lift so you could remove the wraps around his legs and sandals.

He peered down at you, but not in an erotic way. There was plenty of time for seduction once he was washed clean of his sins.

Once everything else was dealt with, you stood back up. His tunic went over his head, then his loincloth.

Being completely bare in front of you was no longer flustering, but rather a kind of intimacy that he had grown to crave.

You kissed his cheek softly, patting the small of his back. “Get in the water. I’ll get the soaps and oils.”

Your bath house was modest in comparison to those of some of the temples of royalty and other nobility, just a practical circular pool of water blocked in by limestone. The room itself was built beautifully in typical Roman architecture, with classic doric columns and plenty of natural light from high windows- enough to keep the room bright but to still provide privacy.

You returned with two bottles in hand and made your way over to where he sat in the water.

Usually, you lounged on the limestone, still wrapped in your tunic when you bathed him. But this time was different. You wanted to bare yourself just as much, to return the intimacy of nakedness, of exposing yourselves even in the mundane.

You pulled your fabric off, folding it on top of his before returning to where he had rested. His eyes were shut, embracing the divine feeling of warm water after months of nothing but scraping oil with a strigil.

You stepped in laggardly, taking your time to adjust to the water. Marcus wastes no time in opening his eyes and reaching out for you, though.

“My dove,” He begins, running his wet hands along the outsides of your thighs. “Do you get more alluring with each moon that I am away?” He questions.

You snicker, bringing the soap closer to you. “Nonsense. You simply go away for so long that you forget my silhouette.”

He playfully gasps, feigning offense. “I could never forget your form, my dove. I think of it every night and every morning. If it were a book, I would travel with it always, reciting each line and page.”

He speaks so naturally, it stuns you sometimes. He is so elegant and romantic, you sometimes wonder how it is possible his brain can create such immaculate words.

“You are like… the day to me, like the sun. You are, at times, interrupted and must disappear, but you return to me so soon, and illuminate my existence. Sometimes I just long to… bask in your warmth, cling to you and never let you go, although I know you must.”

You wet his hair, beginning to massage the soap into the sullied curls. His hair was beginning to gray ever so slightly, certainly maturing rapidly due to the stress.

“Beautiful. Your tongue betwixts me.” He smiles, refusing to let go of your body.

You paid careful attention here, scratching along his scalp just like he always liked. He exhaled in pleasure. You could laugh about how he practically purred like a cat when you washed his locks, but it was almost too ambrosial to giggle at. You simply smile, proud of your hands, and continue to work.

You feel the grime washing out of his curls, washing them with soap a couple times to get the layers and months of squalor unearthed.

The two of you were silent for a bit, allowing you to maneuver his body however you needed to get the job done.

Then, you could begin washing the rest of his body. You grabbed a communal cloth and began scrubbing and wiping, starting with his neck. You could be fairly unrefined here, getting all of the cracks and crevices. When it came time for his face, though, you were much more gentle.

You moved to straddle him in a way, not fully on his lap, but quite nearly. He took the opportunity to bend a bit to kiss your stomach.

You felt your heart flutter at the soft caresses of his lips. It tickles slightly, and you find it hard to stay focused.

You pull his face back to center in order to begin washing it off, being as mindful of his scars and wounds as possible. You would treat them after the bath, doing your best to ensure each scratch and mark was cleaned to prevent infection.

He goes willingly, the soft smirk still present on his face while you wipe the muck away. You gently tap the cloth on his nose, and he looks up at you. His grasp on your hips is unforgiving.

“I’d like to get statues for the villa. We’ve lived here for many moons and we’ve still yet to truly decorate,” He pauses, making it clear that he has more to say, but wants you to inquire. His little cat-and-mouse game.

“Oh? If that’s what my lord wants, that’s what he will get. What statues do you long for? Perhaps some of Venus, or Diana?”

He shakes his head swiftly. “Tch. Aphrodite and Venus have nothing compared to your beauty. I want statues of you lining every hallway, every room. Your body, clothed or not.”

You playfully slap his arm, chiding him for speaking of the Goddesses so negligently. Despite your distaste, you can’t help but smile. “Me? In every room? Don’t you think that’s a bit excessive? What will people think when we are long gone? That I was obsessed with myself?”

He shakes his head again. “No, of course not, my dove. They’ll think I was madly, irrevocably obsessed with you.”

You laugh, tilting your head a bit as you wipe the cloth over his forehead. “They wouldn’t exactly be wrong, then.”

Then, he pulls the cloth from your hand, setting it back on the stone behind him. His arms pull you closer, truly straddling him this time.

You feel your buttocks press against his strong thighs, your core firmly pressed against his arousal.

You huff, not expecting this. You give him a look, one of uncertainty, but of amusement as well. “Thought you would prefer to do this in bed, once we are both thoroughly clean?” A playful lilt to your voice echoes.

“Do you deny me of my sacred wife, my betrothed?” He asks, just as playful.

You chuckle softly, shaking your head. “Of course not. I couldn’t imagine it.”

He nods, pleased by your answer. “Besides. You’ve already cleansed me of all my sins. I feel virginal again.”

You dip your hand back into the water, spreading a trail of it across his forehead, watching the droplets trace down the features of his face. You kiss it then.

“There. I deem you completely clean and free.”

His eyes quell, the air of playfulness morphing into one of devotion, of tenderness. “Thank you, my dove.” He whispers.

“Of course, my beloved.”

When the two of you kiss this time, it’s slow and merciful. Just two bodies reacclimatizing themselves to each other.

Your hands snake around his broad back, holding steady.

“Please,” You whimper softly, though you aren’t entirely certain what you’re asking for.

Maybe for him to remind you who you belong to, heart and soul. Maybe for him to be gentle, to take your breath away with softness and sympathy. Maybe for him to not, to make it hurt so that the bruises decorate you for a week, tucked under your stola as a secret for only the two of you.

Whatever it may have been, you knew you wouldn’t have to ponder it much. You needed whatever he needed.

What he needed, apparently, wasn’t foreplay or teasing. He needed to be inside you, connected to you in the most primal way.

He stood from the water suddenly, bringing you with him, his cock trapped politely between the two of you.

You found yourself splayed out on the limestone, propped up on your arms to look at him but your legs laid out for his pleasure.

He grunts softly as he positions himself at your entrance, moving to drape himself on top of you, kissing you again.

The stretch feels harsh, your body unaccustomed to anything other than your fingers stretching it on the nights you got particularly desperate while Marcus was away.

You whine quietly, but do not ask him to stop. You don’t mind the pain, if it means you get to be this close to him quicker.

He stops on his own volition, though, no longer kissing you but keeping his lips so close that you could feel them against yours when he spoke.

“Breathe, dove. Breathe.” He says, and then takes a few deep inhales. He wants you to mirror his breathing, sync your oxygen so you feel even more like one.

You catch your breath and nod, your features untwisting from the grimace and instead looking into his eyes.

You feel your stomachs rise and fall at the same time, chests sandwiched together. It becomes almost orgasmic on it’s own, then- the pushing in, because you’re not sure where his body stops and yours begins. When your breathing speeds up, so does his. When yours slows down, as does his. When you whimper at the feeling, his nose nuzzles against the apple of your cheeks, soothing you.

Once he’s fully mounted to the hilt, unable to go any further, he pauses.

You stay melted together like this for a while, just breathing each other in. You can feel him tucked perfectly against that spongy spot within you, not yet stimulating it, but rather just reminding you that it’s there, that he’s as inseparable from you as possible.

You liked it like this. It wasn’t greedy or demanding, it wasn’t asking for anything. It was simply feeling. You warming him.

He chuckles softly, a bit unexpected. You squeeze your eyebrows together in confusion.

He moves one hand to tangle in your long locks, bunching it up and collecting it at the nape of your neck, holding your skull firmly.

He nips at your neck, moving his way up to your jaw before stopping just before your mouth. “I want to worship you. Show you just how much you save me.”

You grin softly back, watching as his jaw hangs lax. “You are the one who deserves worshipping, your highness.”

He kisses you, not slow this time. Fervent. Desperate. Your forehead knocks against his, greedily wanting more.

The first rock of his hips has you seeing stars. The unexpected jolt against your core makes you arch into it, moaning into his mouth.

Your hands around his back tighten, trying not to dig your fingernails into his skin, already so scarred.

He feels your strain and nips at your neck again, becoming breathless himself.

The next thrust is particularly harsh, slamming into you. “Hold onto me. I want your marks. I want to be blemished by you, and only you. No wounds from war and bloodshed. Just by your hands,” He groans.

Your fingers dig in experimentally, holding onto him when he advances again, trying not to dig too deeply. However, after the next pistoning of his hips, you find yourself unable to do anything but hold on tightly.

It spurs him on, his motions speeding up exponentially as he hears your moans and groans of pleasure. You felt like your brain was melting, only able to think of him and his body.

He wasn’t just chasing his release, though. He wanted to see how he made you fall apart, watch your face contort with the gratification he brought to you.

He began to feel the waves of fire coil in your stomach, your womb overcome with the feeling of that divine pressure.

He brought his middle and ring finger to your clit, brushing against it timidly at first. His oscillations against it were, much like the proceedings of this intercourse- soft and slow at first, finding his bearings, before he sped up and added pressure, paying careful attention to how you moved and squirmed and what it told him.

He could tell you were close when he not only heard the squelching of your pleasure mixing with his, but he could feel the pulsing of your cunt against him. Drawing him in, like a witch luring its prey to the woods.

“Come for me, my dove. Let me see you come undone. I want that precious face painted in my mind for the next millennia,” He pants, holding himself back from the edge just enough to see you tumble over it.

Your words are mumbles and whispers of pleas, garbled “Don’t stop, my beloved, I want to feel you,” Chanted as your orgasm overcame you.

Your legs helplessly climbed against his, wrapping around him urgently, your moans rhythmic as the pulses of deliciousness took you as its own. Your hearing faltered, all of your senses overcome with nothing but Marcus, his beauty and ability.

It was dangerous how close he was, teetering on the precipice but desperate to hang on for long enough for you to come back. He wanted you to see him mark you just as much as he wanted you to mark him.

When your breathing finally somehow returns, gasping for oxygen and respite, he pulled out of you, his jaw working as he moans, running his hand over his cock until he spills on your breasts and stomach, painting a beautiful picture without any paint.

“I love you so, my lady, my beautiful dove,” He cries, his whimpers sounding ethereal to your ears.

You both stay silent for a few moments, trying to slowly catch your breaths and slow your pulses.

You run your fingers through his spend, feeling it against your soft stomach. It felt like it belonged to you just as much as your blood did. Warm and dripping.

He watches you, a bit in awe still. For once, he is rendered speechless by you, not the other way around.

You chuckle softly and move to sit up to kiss him, this time. The kiss is loving, innocent.

“I love you, Marcus Acacius. More than any God or Goddess, more than any temple or stature, more than the sun or the moon.”

He smiles warmly. “I return the same sentiment tenfold. No statue could compare to the true, real divinity of my wife.”

You grin. “There goes my plans to fill our bedroom with statues of you,” You reply teasingly.

He chuckles.

The two of you wash off in the bath again, wiping the evidence of passion off of yourselves. He gently wipes you down, and your heart flutters with how gently he cleans you, like you were glass.

You dried off as well, pressing the towel to both your and his skin before applying the perfumed oil you had originally brought over with the soap.

He oiled your body, carefully running his rough hands over your skin. He couldn’t resist softly squeezing and cupping your breasts. You gasp at the sensitivity, watching him smirk boyishly.

Once you were both properly oiled, he practically dragged you back to bed.

“It may be before the highest peak of the sun, but I long to finally get some rest beside my Goddess.”

So you held him, watching him rest finally. You didn’t look away for a single moment. You would protect him, even in his dreams.

If he couldn't be in your arms, you would crawl to him. It went both ways, the eternal flame of love.

𝓛𝓪𝓭𝔂 𝓜𝓪𝔂 (1.1k words)

Relationship: Joel Miller x Reader

Summary: Fluff of you and Joel's relationship.

Warnings: Just some fluff NO SMUT! Reader is Sarah's stepmother. Marriage discussions.

Authors Note: Sorry yall no smut this time!! just a quick little cute fluff to balance out all the lovely smut from kinktober lmfao. Hope yall enjoy!

You sat beside Joel, smiling at him, squeezing the hand in yours every so often.

This wasn’t the anniversary dinner you had pictured, but it was perfect either way.

Life with Joel seemed to usually go that way. Whatever your plans, he always seemed to top it in his subtle and simple way. He never disappointed.

He had planned on taking you out to some fancy-schmancy restaurant that served you a billion courses and made you wear a suit and tie and all that jazz, but the reservations you had made were mysteriously cancelled, and Joel had a construction job that went overtime- it was a whole mess.

Which is how you ended up in your pajamas, eating fast food burgers in his truck at 9 PM, Sarah in the back sipping on a milkshake.

He grinned at you, that smirk that told you he was going to say something that you should probably find rude or inappropriate, but you couldn’t help but laugh and smile because… well, it’s Joel. He somehow always had that effect on you.

Before you can manage to ask what he was possibly thinking of, he answered.

“Y’know, Sarah was the one who convinced me to actually get the courage to date you.” He mumbles between bites.

You furrow your eyebrows, laughing softly. “What? Sarah didn’t even know we were dating until we’d already been dating for a couple months.”

“Which I’m still mad about, by the way. She could’ve been making me breakfast this entire time,” Sarah groans.

You chuckle in response, and Joel rolls his eyes playfully. His daughter was certainly the apple that didn’t fall far from the tree.

“My breakfast isn’t that bad!” He defended, shrugging. “Anyway. I… I wasn’t sure, to be honest. About the whole thing. I mean- I was sure about you, I knew I liked you a lot.” He stammered.

You raise your eyebrows, struggling to contain your laughter. “Really smooth. I don’t think you’re supposed to tell your girlfriend that you weren’t sure about dating her on your anniversary.”

Joel scoffed. “I’m getting to the point, just hold your horses. Jeez.” He sighs. “Anyway… I asked you out, but I was just worried. It had been me and Sarah for so long, just the two of us. Just… a lot of uncertainty.

“But then… before we went on that date, when you came over and made dinner and watched her for me while I was working late at that one job… I don’t know, it just clicked when I saw how Sarah liked you.”

Your heart melts, and you feel happy tears spring to your eyes. “Aww, Joel…”

“Seein’ you in that red dress on that first date was just confirmation I’d made the right choice.” He finishes, and Sarah groans.

“Ew! Get a room.”

The three of you laugh, and you feel an overwhelming sense of joy and peace in your chest. You didn’t really imagine your life going this way, meeting an older man and becoming a stepmother, but you wouldn’t have it any other way now. Sarah was just as much a part of your life as Joel now.

“No way. You’re stuck with us now, kiddo.” You tease her, grinning.

“Ugh. Whatever.” She groans dramatically, but her smile doesn't falter.

You sigh. “Tonight has really been better than sitting in some stuffy restaurant and trying to figure out what is in the hors d’oeuvres. At least I know my burger is just meat and cheese,” You imitate his Texan accent, and Sarah laughs.

“Ain’t gonna get better than this, baby. This’ll be the rest of our lives. Greasy burgers and milkshakes. Happy anniversary.”

It made your stomach flutter, the way he so casually implied that this would last forever, that he wanted to be with you forever.

“Speaking of…” Sarah began. “When are you guys going to get married? You practically are, already. Has he tied you down yet?” She says, jokingly- but you could never really tell with her. Yet another trait she got from her father.

The question makes you pause. You and Joel had never really had any serious conversation about marriage, besides a few off handed comments or mentions. You would be overjoyed, of course, but you weren’t sure how Joel would feel. He was one for slow relationships, especially with Sarah involved. You doubted he would be ready to take that step.

You tilt your head at Joel, smirking a little. You can see he’s a little flustered too.

“I don’t know, Joel. When are we?”

His eyes flash something, surprise mixed with nervousness. “W-Well… I mean… No time like the present.” He coughs, before fishing something out of his pocket.

Your eyes widen immediately and your heart drops to the floor.

“Joel, what-”

“I wasn’t going to do this here, I wasn’t even sure I was going to do this tonight, but… It just feels… right. With Sarah being here. I hope you think so and I’m not ruining this, shit…Might not be some fancy restaurant, but I’m not a very fancy man. Will… will you marry me?”

He asks, opening the ring box that he had fished out of his pocket, holding it up for you to see.

It was a gorgeous ring, one that he must’ve chosen specifically for you. It was perfect, gorgeous and elegant yet simple. Just like him.

You and Sarah make the same noise of excitement. You cover your hand with your mouth, trying not to burst into sobs.

“I’d be honored to be your wife, and Sarah, if you’ll have me, your stepmom.”

Sarah nods, smiling ear to ear. “Hell yeah!”

It wasn’t every girl’s dream proposal. It wasn’t on a beach, or in front of a camera. You weren’t wearing a perfect dress with your hair perfectly curled and your makeup and nails done.

But this was real, and it made your heart whole. You wouldn’t want it any other way.

“Yes. Absolutely, I’ll marry you, Joel. I’d love to be your wife.”

He pushed the ring onto your finger, and you can feel how he shakes, clearly nervous and excited.

You grin as you kiss him sweetly, Sarah not making gagging sounds for once.

“I can propose better. I can do it somewhere nicer, wear a nicer shirt- I want to give you the best. I swear it, baby, you deserve the best.”

“I already have it, love. This is more than I could ever want. I don’t want some fairytale to post on Instagram. I want real, and I want you and Sarah. That’s what I care about.”

The two of you got married in the courthouse, just shy of six months later, with Sarah, Tommy, and Maria as the only witnesses. It was perfect. You couldn’t have asked for anything more real and beautiful.

𝔐𝔞𝔯𝔠𝔲𝔰 𝔄𝔠𝔞𝔠𝔦𝔲𝔰 ℌ𝔢𝔞𝔡𝔠𝔞𝔫𝔬𝔫𝔰

AN: I posted these on Twitter a while ago but I thought it might be fun to post them here! This way if I am in a writing rut or don't have time to post full fics, I can post some headcanons in between!!

★He brings you trinkets and treasures back when he returns from battle. Anything from grand pieces of furniture to books that he know you'll love and covet.

★He prefers to worship you. He has so much power in his position in the army that he just wants you to take over.

★He insists that you lounge around all day, in the sun chatting with your friends instead of doing any work. He of course lets you do as you please, but he loves that he can provide for you so you don't have to lift a finger.

★He always keeps an eye on you in public. He wants to make sure you're safe, comfortable, and happy. He's almost like your security guard and husband all wrapped into one.

★He adores just talking and having conversations with you. His favorite is when it's late at night and the two of you have endless conversations about anything and everything. He loves your mind and perspective on things, and is always curious to hear what you're thinking about.

★He secretly loves when you outsmart him. He may act grumpy, but it brings him so much joy. He sometimes feels like he married up in smarts.

★He loves when you feed him, watching carefully like he'd disappear if you took your eyes off of him. Your fingers brushing his lips as you bring a grape to his mouth, smiling as you watch him chew and whispering how good he is.

★He's usually pretty respectful of space, but when he has a bad day, he's needy. He loves attention, and secretly loves when you dote on him.

𝓸𝓷𝓮𝓲𝓭𝓪- (4.7k words)

Relationship: Joel Miller x Reader

Summary: Joel tries to break up with you, only wanting the best for you.

Warnings: a pet goes missing but HE IS FOUND SAFE I PROMISE!!!! angst, breakup, joel is insecure sad face, pinv sex, as usual not beta read

Authors Note: this came to me randomly one afternoon and I wrote most of it hiding in the bathroom from my family. enjoy! also idk what currency system is used in jackson so pretend its coins or something idgaf

ps. title is from a tyler childers song lol

pps. yes ted is named after ted garcia. yes im patting myself on the back for that one

Joel Miller was stubborn man. So stubborn, in fact, that he hadn’t spoken to you in days. 

Very mature, the silent treatment. 

The man who you considered your boyfriend despite never making things official, the one who’s house you spent most of the time in anyway, who you had fallen in love with over the course of the years you’ve known him. 

The one who snapped at you all of the sudden, calling you clingy and micromanaging, telling you to give him some space. Telling you that you were too young and naïve. Telling you that this wasn’t working anymore.

You swore you could see the sadness in his eyes, despite his words being so harsh and painful.

You’d stayed in your house since. You were thankful that you hadn’t yet officially moved into his, or else this whole situation would be a lot more difficult to navigate. 

As it stood right now, though, you were left wondering what you had done wrong, why he was so mad at you.

Joel was a man of few words, but you had always been fairly good at picking up on his cues. If he needed some alone time, silently working at his woodworking desk on a particularly hard day, or after a fight with Ellie. 

But he would always gravitate back around to you, even if he didn’t verbalize any of it. You felt it in the way he would kiss your cheek after when you made him dinner, appreciating that you let him be without him having to ask. 

Clingy. Micromanaging. The words clunked around in your head, painful reminders of the things you hadn’t seen. Even words he didn’t say, but your own mind supplied, convinced that you’re driven him away. Annoying. Too much. Useless. 

The days had been tough. 

You attempted to communicate. You showed up the next morning, his favorite pumpkin bread in tow, wanting to talk. He had his boots laced up and shook his head. Told you to get lost, that he had to go on patrol.

It was an enigma. It was heartbreaking. You felt like you were in the twilight zone. 

You cried as you walked home, pumpkin bread left on his porch as you hugged your arms close to your chest, feeling like it might cave in. It was embarrassing. You were certain that people could see and hear, and you just wanted to disappear. 

You’d shut yourself in, then. The only thing that brought you comfort and a molecule of joy was the stray cat that seemed delighted that you returned after spending so much time at Joel’s.

See, you’d always had a soft spot for animals. Even before Jackson, before the apocalypse, you were content with having plenty of cats and dogs to keep you company. Finding out Jackson had their own share of stray cats to keep the rodents away made you fall in love on the spot. 

One particular cat was a skinny orange thing, whom you lovingly titled Ted. Ted was weary, but you were smart. You knew cats, despite yourself having more energy of a dog- loving of everyone you met and deeply emotional. 

You left food out for him every morning and night when you could. Sometimes it wasn’t much, just some leftover meat scraps or whatever you could afford to scrounge up, but it was enough for him to trust you, and to return to your backyard most nights and mornings. 

You got attached quickly; despite knowing it wasn’t a good idea. Ted, as cats often do, came back every night and every morning when he heard the back door open, chirping as you set the bowl down. 

Joel even knew about Ted. It was one of the biggest reasons you’d been hesitant to move into his house. You were worried Ted wouldn’t understand and would go hungry. Joel laughed softly but nodded and said he understood. 

Ted let you pet and love on him eventually, too. You attempted to keep him as a pet, but as most stray cats are, he enjoyed having time to roam around outside- although he did enjoy snuggling with you on the couch at nights. You settled on a pet hole in the back door. Joel even installed it for you, despite his mumbles of how it was a bad idea and how you’d wake up with a raccoon snuggling against you instead. You just grinned and said the more, the merrier. 

Ted stayed with you that day, when you came back in tears, an absolute mess. He could sense your anguish, and climbed onto your back as you sobbed into the sofa. 

You weren’t able to do much. You didn’t have the heart or energy to cook for yourself. You gave Ted the salmon that was supposed to be for you, and passed out on the couch. 

On the second day of nothing from Joel, you felt like a ghost. 

You hated it. You hated that you let a man affect you this much. You hated falling for him so quickly, when he seemed so quick to just brush you off. You thought about waiting around to find Ellie, ask her what the fuck was going on, but you didn’t want to seem like a stalker. 

It was the ambiguity that hurt the most, though. You saw no signs. There was no giant fight or impasse that the both of you had reached. Just sudden coldness, like you were hit by a violent snowstorm in the middle of summer, and frostbite was beginning to take over. 

You try to go outside that afternoon, convincing yourself that the sunshine and fall air would somehow cure your devastation. 

It didn’t, so you ended up sobbing into your hands in your backyard. 

Ted, of course, was simply happy to be back outside, and the last thing you notice is him slipping away, slinking under the fence.

You sigh. You couldn’t blame him. You were a pretty sad sight. It was almost ironic and made you laugh a little. No man wanted to be around you anymore. 

You spent the rest of the day wandering around your house like a ghost. You were starting to run low on groceries, and you eventually would have to get back to your chores around town. 

That night was quiet. Ted hadn’t returned yet, which didn’t necessarily worry you. He usually stayed gone until you set his food out, and even sometimes later. 

You forced yourself to eat something. It was small, just some oatmeal and an apple, but it was all you could stomach. You set out the leftover salmon for Ted and went to bed. 

Day three. Absolutely nothing from Joel. You hoped that you would suddenly hear a knock on your door, Joel with those big puppy dog eyes holding your favorite flowers and falling to his knees to apologize. 

Of course, it didn’t happen. 

You would have to re-introduce yourself back into society today. You wondered if Maria and Tommy had known about the whole thing, and that’s why Maria hadn’t come knocking your door down to grill you on why you weren’t helping in the kitchen or garden. 

Along with that, your groceries were getting grim, and although you didn’t care as much for yourself, you wanted to feed Ted. 

That was when it hit you, when you looked out the window. His food bowl was untouched, still filled. There was no sight of him either.

Your heart dropped to your feet, but you tried to swallow the fear. Cats do this, you told yourself. He’s probably just sleeping in the barns. 

You shakily replaced his food, trying not to freak out. He would show up again, and you would feel stupid for worrying. It’s what cats were best at. 

By the time the sunset, Ted hadn’t shown his whiskered face around, his food remaining untouched. 

You were inconsolable. If the whole situation with Joel had you heartbroken, Ted disappearing on top of it made you feel like you were choking. 

You cried the entire night, not sleeping once. 

You were hysterical by the time the sun came up the next morning. Ted’s food bowl still sat untouched. 

You were still crying, feeling like your soul had left your body, but you threw some clothes on and marched your way to Tommy and Maria’s house. 

Maria, being the busy woman she was, was absent. But Tommy opened the door, immediately concerned by your haunting expression. 

“Tommy? My cat… He hasn’t come back for a couple days. Can we look for him? Can we have a couple people out looking? I need him home…” You said through sobs. 

Tommy comforted you, invited you inside. Made you tea and patted your shoulder as you cried. 

“Listen, I want to get your cat back, but he’s a stray, honey. We can’t have people spending time out looking for him, we just don’t have the time. What has Joel done?” He asked, trying to be as sympathetic as possible. 

“Joel kicked me out, three days ago,” You explained, shaking your head softly. “He probably couldn’t care less.”

Tommy’s expression dropped, concern filling his face. “What? He kicked you out? Why? Did y’all have some fight, or somethin’?” 

You shook your head again, shrugging softly. “I don’t know. I don’t know what I did wrong. He just… said I was too clingy and sent me away. I haven’t see him since. Won’t talk to me. And now…” Your voice breaks, the situation hitting you all over again. “The one thing I had left is gone. I’m all alone.” 

Tommy nodded, feeling guilt. “Fuck. I’m sorry, I really am. I’ve always warned him, he doesn’t know a good thing when it hits him upside the head. I love my brother, but… he shouldn’t have done that. And, uh, listen… I can’t promise anything, but I’ll do my best to look around for the cat tonight, alright? I’ll keep an eye out, spread the word. I promise.”

His words bring you little comfort, but you at least appreciate the gesture. You just nod, feeling even more hopeless. 

“Ted. His name is Ted.” You say, standing up to leave. 

You decide to walk all around Jackson, searching anywhere to find your boy. The alleys, the barns- you were even tempted to jump some fences just to make sure he hadn’t gotten stuck in someone’s garden or something.

You spent the entire afternoon looking, the sky becoming a dark grey as time marched on. 

A storm was imminent, you could tell by the breeze. The thought of Ted being stuck somewhere in the rain and thunder made you feel sick. 

You had not found any leads by late afternoon, the clouds becoming angry overhead. You had no other choice but to grab a few groceries from the local shops and walk home. By the time you stepped out of the soap shop, raindrops were pummeling down. 

You were cold and wet, so the trek back to your house was especially depressing. It felt, once again, almost ironic, but you didn’t have the energy to smile or laugh about it this time. 

The only thing you checked was that his food bowl was still untouched when you got back to your house. That was the only thing left you cared about before you collapsed into bed, exhaustion finally overtaking you. 

You slept surprisingly peacefully, your body happy to be off in dreamland instead of dealing with the waking nightmare that your life had suddenly become. 

You woke the next morning to knocking. 

At first, you thought you might’ve just went crazy finally. But then you realized that the sound was coming from your front door, not your head. You threw on a jacket and rushed down to the door. 

Maria stood there, and more importantly, Ted was curled into her arms, clearly trying to escape. 

You gasped immediately, wondering if you were still dreaming. 

“Maria! You found him?” You asked quickly, taking Ted from her arms. He willingly went, jumping into yours and clinging to you instead. “I can’t even find the words to thank you. Oh my god! Where was he?” 

Maria smiled, taking in everything you’d blurted out quickly. “Uh, actually… Joel found him. Tommy… told me and Joel about it. I was just going to have the kids go out and look, but Joel insisted. Bribed everyone over at the Tipsy Bison that if they went to look, he’d buy their drinks for the night. They found Ted stuck in the dumpster out by the barn.”

You nod softly, slowly processing what Maria told you. Why would Joel care? He was the one who pushed you away, who abandoned you. He didn’t care about you anymore.

“I… I told him he needed to be the one to bring Ted back to you, but… You know Joel.” Maria said, a sympathetic look on her face as she shrugged.

“Oh. We aren’t… uh, Joel and I aren’t together anymore… I guess.” You reply quietly.

It cut deep to say it out loud for the first time. Weren’t together anymore.

“Oh. I know. Tommy told me. For what it’s worth, I’m sorry. Joel doesn’t know a good thing when it slaps him upside the head.”

You can’t help but laugh softly. “Tommy said the same thing. Thank you, though. I’m just happy Ted is back.” You sigh, pressing a kiss to the orange fur of his head. “Hey, actually, does Joel have to go on patrol tomorrow?” You ask quietly, as if you had to keep it secret.

“No. He’s off the next two days.” Maria reassures. She doesn’t bother asking why, because she knows, but you’re thankful that she doesn’t. “Let me know if you need anything, alright?” She finishes with a nod, stepping away from the door.

You nod back, smiling. “Thank you, Maria.”

You shut the door, kissing Ted’s fur more. “Poor boy. You know now not to get yourself stuck in a dumpster, huh? Little trash monster.”

Ted curls beside you in bed that night, seemingly grateful to be rescued from his days of being trapped in a wastebin.

Meanwhile, your thoughts were stuck on Joel. None of it made sense to you. Why would he do any of this? It just made you feel worse. You felt indebted to him now, on top of being a mix of upset and angry at him. It was a bewildering sensation, wanting to both kiss him and punch him.

You showed up the next day when you knew he’d be making his morning coffee- the coffee you usually made him.

You didn’t bother knocking, knowing the door was almost always open. You walked in, slammed a bag of coins down on the kitchen table.

Joel turned around, an incredulous look on his face.

“You cannot just storm in here whenever you want-”

You give him a warning look, one that he quickly and rightfully recognized as the shut up now face.

“I just wanted to pay you back for what you did last night. Payin’ those guys to help look for Ted.” You admit, unable to look at him in his eyes anymore.

He takes a tentative step closer, hesitant like he’s afraid to scare you away.

“Darlin’…” He says instinctively first, quickly wishing he could retract the nickname. “You don’t have to repay me. Not looking for payment. It wasn’t… a transaction.”

You swallow. You wanted to argue, to yell at him. Release the pent-up turmoil of the past days.

“Well, just take it. I just wanted to do this so I could… break it off cleanly.”

When you finally find the courage to look at Joel’s face, he looks sad. No- not just sad. He looked devastated in a way you’d only seen him a few times. On days when Sarah’s memory crept up on him and wouldn’t leave him, or when he and Ellie got into an argument over something trivial and she wouldn’t speak to him for a few days.

It was hard to see, and your instincts wanted to run over and comfort him. But you were swiftly reminded that he was the one who broke up with you.

You stayed in place.

He nodded at your words, looking down at the floor. He worked his jaw, like he was fighting the urge to say something.

“Can I just… I’ll leave if you want me to, but just for my own peace, I think I deserve to know why…” You felt your voice break, but you refused to succumb. “Why you don’t want to be with me anymore. I’ll leave you alone, I swear. I just… need to know.”

You met his eyes and couldn’t believe what you saw.

Tears in his eyes.

Joel Miller, the man who practically choked when he had to say sorry, who would rather build an entire castle than have to face his emotions, was about to cry.

“I- I just… You should be with someone your own age. Someone who hasn’t seen the shit I’ve seen. Done the shit I’ve done. I.. I love you, I truly, truly do, darlin’, but I have to do what’s right. You deserve someone who can keep up, and someone who isn’t… haunted by the things I’ve done. I wake up every night and go to bed every night worrying that someone might try to hurt you, or that I might hurt you, as karma for all the bad shit I’ve done. It kills me to let you go, but I know you’ll be okay eventually. I can keep you safe, and happy, like this.”

The knot in your stomach was now a full-on tangle. You felt tears of your own gathering.

“Joel… I’d be safe and happy with you.” You say, taking a step closer. He doesn’t step back, despite wanting to. “That’s such bullshit. I want you. I want to be with you. I need you. I don’t need someone younger, or innocent, or whatever the hell. Because guess what? Someone could decide to kill me for no reason. I could die tomorrow, or a year from now. And I’d be alone, and unhappy, and scared. I’m scared without you, Joel. What you’re doing now is hurting me- it’s killing me. Please just… let me in. Stop hurting me, please and just…”

Your voice broke again, tears falling this time.

This broke him as well, him swiftly approaching you in a couple of steps.

His fingers were on your face, wiping away your tears before kissing you like you were his oxygen.

He was practically hyperventilating, trying to straighten his thoughts out and explain himself. “You showed me what happiness was. It was so bleak without you, and I tried to tell myself I would get over it eventually…” He whispers. “Seeing you look at me with so much hurt… I felt so… abysmal. Like I couldn’t live with myself knowing I hurt you so badly. I didn’t mean anything I said, I swear it. You’re not naïve or too clingy. You’re so-”

You cut him off with another kiss, being the one to wipe his tears away this time.

“I’m still mad at you, but staying away from you was the hardest thing I’d ever had to do.”

He can’t help but chuckle, which makes you laugh in turn.

“I deserve it. I deserve your rage, your sadness, all of it.” He says, his voice becoming quieter. “I just want what’s best for you.”

“You’re best for me.” You reply, without a second of hesitation. “Even if you’re a fucking dick sometimes.”

He kisses you again, his lips pressed to yours like he was retracing how every millimeter of the sensation felt.

You felt your back pushed against his kitchen counter, the kiss slowly morphing from sweet and heartfelt to sexy and hot.

You brought your hand to his shoulders, gripping on like he might disappear if you let go.

The desperation and rawness of the both of you made things escalate quickly. You felt like before you could even catch your breath or realize what was happening, your hands were rushing to pull his flannel and undershirt off, while his hands wandered to your chest and stomach over your shirt, squeezing appreciatively.

You whimpered softly, fumbling with his belt while he tried (and failed) to remove your shirt at the same time. If it wasn’t so frenzied, it might’ve been funny, but you both were desperate to feel each against the other, to be filled and completed. Whole.

You managed to throw most of his clothes off when he took over and lifted you onto the counter.

Doing part of the work for him, you pulled your shirt and bra off, letting him scrabble with your own pants. When he patted your ass to make you hop up so he can pull the pants the rest of the way off, you ran your fingers softly over the bulge in his boxers, watching the way he shivered but tried not to get distracted.

It was sexy, somehow, watching him lock onto the task at hand- almost like you weren’t even there and he was trying to work.

You looked up at him like he’d hung the stars, watching him with wide eyes. When he finally managed to pull and throw your pants and underwear off, he noticed your doe-like expression and went practically feral. He pressed his lips to yours again.

It was bruising this time, hurried like he only had a few seconds to make you feel his lips against yours for the next week.

You kept your hand pressed to his bulge as he re-adjusted you, bringing your legs around him to trap him in place.

His cock wasn’t fully erect yet, but definitely hardening, swelling. You could feel it throb, and it brought a special thrill to your touch.

Usually by the time Joel actually fucked you, he was hard as a rock and made you feel every inch of it. But there was something intimate, something, ironically, soft about him still being soft. Like you were actively feeling the effect you had on him.

He pulled his cock out, gripping it before lining it up with your hole. He didn’t even bother breaking the kiss, your head turned up to meet his as you felt him begin to breach you.

You gasped as Joel sighed. Your mouths were no longer pressed together in a kiss, but more like you were breathing into each other’s mouths, swapping oxygen and spit.

Your brows furrowed together, eyes rolling at the feeling of his thick cock entering you with no foreplay or preparation.

You could feel him swell and throb inside you, reaching full hardness, and it practically made you come on the spot. The sensation was so hot- both temperature wise and emotionally.

You crossed your legs behind his back, bringing him in closer and making it so he was buried inside you as deep as he could go.

You both were pretty much gone when he started thrusting. It was hard for you to do any of the work with how he had you positioned and how he drove into you, but you rocked your hips, nonetheless.

With every lunge he hit that spot deep inside you, hard, in a way that you knew you’d be sore tomorrow.

It was wild, untamed. You could see the way he grit his jaw and the sweat accumulating on his forehead, his perfect curls bouncing with every plunge of his hips.

You moved your hands to hold onto his back too. You tried to keep your nails away, trying to hold onto him with your palms instead so you wouldn’t scratch him.

He grunted softly, pulling away from your mouth. “Mark me, baby. Scratch me up. I deserve it. Want to feel it. Please, darlin’. Take it out on me.”

You felt your legs weaken despite being wrapped around him. He had never begged like that, never sounded so desperate.

You did as he asked, though. Careful at first, not really wanting to hurt him.

But then he fucked into you especially hard, and all you could manage to do was hold on for dear life. Your nails dug into his back, and you weren’t sure if he was moaning in pain or pleasure.

You moaned too, feeling his hand wander from gripping onto your hips to your clit.

He’s not slow and calculated like usual. He doesn’t play games. He just spits onto your cunt and rubs frantic circles into your clit, applying just the right amount of pressure for you to see stars.

You feel the white molten pleasure start to gather in your abdomen, barely even having time to realize you were coming until you were, your mind going absolutely blank.

You might’ve even screamed- you weren’t entirely sure. It was all so quick and feral.

It wasn’t like any other orgasm you’d had. It was over just as fast as it started, but it felt so intense, like a star had exploded inside of you, and then just as swiftly died and disappeared.

You were left breathless, still moaning as you came down while Joel chased his release.

When your ears stopped ringing and he finally released your clit, you could hear him grunting words.

“Fuck, I wouldn’t survive you being with someone else. No other man. Just me.”

You caught your breath before speaking, gripping his face with your hand.

“No other man can fuck me like you can. Fuck me like you love me, Joel. Make me feel it. Remind me I’m yours.”

You spurring him on only made him more hungry, fucking into you so hard your body jolted against the counter with each movement.

You gasped as you felt him come inside you. In all of your relationship, you had only ever let him come inside you a few times, when you knew you weren’t ovulating and wouldn’t be risking any little Joels running around.

The sensation was magical each time. Feeling him rut against you, spilling inside you and chasing the sensation mindlessly, filling your womb… It was perfect. You were full of him, but metaphorically and literally.

He hadn’t even caught his breath, his head resting against your shoulder when he spoke.

“Move in with me. Please. For real this time. I can’t bear you not sleeping here, with me, where I can hold you close to me.”

You knew your answer, of course. It was simple. But…

“Only if Ted can come with me.”

Joel laughed softly, puffs of air hitting the skin of your neck.

“Deal, darlin’. I’ll build him the biggest cat tree you’ve ever seen.”

★

𝔱𝔥𝔯𝔢𝔢 𝔪𝔬𝔫𝔱𝔥𝔰 𝔩𝔞𝔱𝔢𝔯

You woke up, dazed. The sunlight was coming in through the windows, telling you it was later than you usually slept in.

And Joel was still beside you, awake and staring at you with a weak grin on his face.

You inhaled, trying to work off your sleepy confusion.

“What are you still doing here? Don’t you have patrol?”

“It snowed five feet overnight, love. Can’t get out the door. We’re snowed in. You’re stuck with me.” He said, brushing a hand through your hair. He never understood how it was so soft.

“Whatever will I do?” You teased, grinning back. Your arm patted the bed, searching for a lump that the two of you had become accustomed to.

Ted was curled up under the blanket against Joel, purring happily at the warmth that both he and the blanket provided him.

You could’ve cried over how cute it was.

“Looks like you’ve already got a snuggle partner,”

Joel laughed, rolling his eyes playfully.

“I thought we said no cats in the bed. What happened to that?” He said, although he had no malice in his voice. You knew he secretly loved having Ted in-between the two of you.

Joel pulled you closer, and the two of you cuddled against Ted, who flipped over, happily accepting the belly rubs and attention from the both of you.

“Our little family is complete. I’ve got my Joel, and I’ve got my Ted. That’s all I need.”

You looked at Joel, biting you lip for a moment. There was just one more thing you needed to add.

"Oh. And the baby." You placed your hand on your stomach softly. "I'm pregnant."

𝔊𝔬𝔲𝔤𝔢 & 𝔘𝔭𝔯𝔬𝔬𝔱- (2.2k words)

Relationship: Joel Miller x Reader

Summary: Joel was always gentle with you, until a bad day persuades him otherwise.

Warnings: feral joel (yummy!) pinv sex, rough sex, not beta read sorry lolz

Author's note: I made a tweet about this like a week ago so sorry this took so long but heres the gif that inspired it https://x.com/i/status/1967254276964794436 highly encouraged to look at this because it adds to the experience

Joel Miller was anything but gentle.

That’s what everyone told you, at least. Friends, family, random people around town. Hell, even Tommy gave a belly laugh when you told him you loved how gentle Joel was with you.

It was true, though.

Joel was gentle with you. In every sense. He never raised his voice at you. He always protected you, watched over you. He made you little cats and bears out of wood, slaving away over his woodworking table just so he could see that smile and blush on your face when he handed it to you.

He was gentle when he touched you, when he kissed you. When he spread you open, fucking his fingers into you before pushing his cock into you, it was always slow and forgiving, fucking you so deep and hard that your brain could’ve melted onto the sheets after.

And that was great, and perfect, and all.

But you weren’t fragile. You weren’t as light as glass, even if Joel did see you as a perfect doll to protect.

You weren’t dumb. You knew Joel had a past of violence and murder, of hurting people. You knew he would never lay a hand on you out of anything other than love, affection, or lust.

You loved him, and the way he fucked you, but you wanted a little something more. You wanted to be able to feel him the morning after, despite him already being long gone on a patrol. You wanted marks that lasted a week, that marked you as his.

You brought it up a couple times, a few sly mentions. Murmuring how you wanted him to tie you up and have his way with you when the both of you had a bit too much to drink at the Tipsy Bison. Asking him to slap your ass harder when he hugged against you to thank you for making his dinner.

He had the same reaction every time. He would smirk, take you to the bedroom...

And fuck you raw and slow.

Every. Single. Time.

But... you came so hard every time, and you loved the feeling of Joel against you no matter what, so you resigned yourself to taking what you got.

And everything was fine and great.

Until one night.

It has been a rough week for Joel. He was exhausted by back to back patrols after rumors of a big nest of infected started floating around Jackson, and on top of that, Tommy had been stressed out of his mind by Maria, and had been dumping all of his worries on Joel, who only wanted to protect and help his baby brother. He found himself picking up the odd jobs that Tommy was usually responsible for, whether it be cleaning stables, triple checking the resident lists, dealing with a disagreement at the Tipsy Bison- and that was all on top of the construction and contracting jobs that he was already responsible for.

To say he was stressed would be an understatement. When he didn’t come home and immediately collapse into bed still in jeans, he was a ball of frustration and pressure.

By Friday, he couldn’t be more grateful for the weekend. His plans included staying in bed all weekend, wrapped up in you with no interruptions.

That was until he returned from patrol, and Tommy cornered him, reprimanding him about how he handled something or other. He didn’t even really know what- all he knew was that Tommy was mad, and then Joel was mad and storming away.

By the time Joel arrived home, he was practically fuming, slamming the door shut.

The sound made you jump, turning to face him from where you stood in the kitchen.

“Joel? Baby? What’s going on?” You asked, your voice full of concern.

He wasn’t mad at you, you knew that much. His hands were shaking with the effort it took to not yell at you, not direct his anger.

So instead, he spoke softly.

“I want your ass undressed and in bed for me in the next three minutes.”

Your mouth opened with the beginnings of a protest, asking what the hell was going on.

But the way he looked...

The way his jaw moved with the grinding of his teeth, the way you could see the sweat clinging to his clothes, the way his hands flexed with restraint.

You shut your mouth quickly, practically skipping to the bedroom. Your clothes were abandoned faster than you could even blink.

Joel entered the room not even a minute later, looking at your naked body on display. He doesn’t fawn over you like usual, doesn’t tell you how stunning you look, how you’re his angel. He instead moves to take his flannel off, facing away from you.

“Turn around.” He demands, and you can still hear the rage dripping from his voice.

You feel chills prickle over your skin, your nipples hardening just from his voice. His coldness was titillating, making the hair raise on the back of your neck at the idea of danger, despite still somehow knowing he would never hurt you or force you to do anything.

You obey, facing the bed now. Despite not having eyes on the man, you could tell he had a scowl on his face. Usually, being naked in front of Joel was a comfortable experience. He was careful, loving. Always made sure that you didn’t feel objectified. He worshipped you, made you feel like a goddess.

This was different. It felt… thrilling. His gaze wasn’t soft and loving and fluffy.

He wanted to use you.

Before you can dwell on the excitement simmering in your stomach, you feel him move to stand behind you, sans clothes.

You felt his bare arms brush against your stomach, coming to rest against you. He held you in place firmly, pulling you against him.

You gasped a little at his strength. You knew Joel was strong, of course- I mean, he was tall, broad, and did hard labor almost every day. But when he used it against you, when you were able to feel how powerful he was compared to you… You couldn’t hold back the moan you let out.

He paused when you moaned, and you could imagine his eyebrow raising in surprise, the way his lip would twitch when he was trying to figure out the next step.

A beat passed before you hear him scoff. Then, a hand grabs your chin, tilting your head back, the back of your head against his cheek to keep you looking up at him.

“Slut. Moaning like a whore just because I’m not being nice? Bet you’re already soaking f’r me.” He says, his voice sharp.

You don’t answer, figuring it was more of a rhetorical statement. Clearly this displeases him, though, as he slaps the tips of his fingers against your jaw, the same way one would a misbehaving dog.

You gasp, not expecting it at all.

“Use your words and answer me.” He says, more frustration in his voice.

As if you moaning and being desperate for him wasn’t evidence enough, you thought cheekily.

“Yes. I am. All for you.” You whisper out, feeling his fingers begin to trail over your stomach, feeling you.

He moves his mouth to your neck, inhaling your scent in a way that made it obvious. The feralness of it made you feel somehow weaker, like a wolf sick with his rut.

He brought his lips to the skin of your neck, holding onto your head by the jaw. He goes from soft kisses but as his other hand travels further down, he starts nipping and the kisses get more fervent.

His fingers eventually reach your cunt, not bothering with foreplay before he brings two fingers over your clit and then pushing slightly into your hole, not fully in, but just feeling the wetness.

Then, his hands move away from your pussy quickly. You sigh at the loss, but judging by how hard he is, pressing against your back, you know you won’t have to wait long.

The arm that had been playing with you moved back to hold you close to him, right under your tits. His other hand lets go of your head, stroking his cock a couple times.

His little growl sent another wave of excitement through you. If it was anything like what he would sound like when he was actually fucking you, you weren’t sure how long you would last.

He brought the fat tip of his cock to your hole, lining himself up to begin to push in.

“Spread your legs.” He commanded, and you listened instantly.

You felt him start to stretch you when his hand came around your throat- not yet squeezing but just resting as he began to fuck into you.

Your eyes roll at the feeling, Joel not affording you the opportunity to adjust to him and his girth this time. He just thrusts in, slow until he’s buried fully into you, cock head just resting against your core, so deep.

You’re both breathless, your chest rising up and down as you relish in the feeling of his belly against your back.

And then, he pistons his hips, pulling out of you almost entirely and then driving back into you with so much force it almost knocks you over.

He groans at the feeling, and you practically yelp, squirming to try and get a better footing.

You’re quickly stopped, though, by his hand on your neck, and he does squeeze this time.

It’s not hard enough to cut off your breathing, but firm enough to keep you in place, to make you feel each of his fingers.

Your eyes roll back, your pussy clenching around him in response. He moans at the feeling of your tight walls gripping him.

“Fuck… Fucking christ, should’ve done this sooner. Letting me use you, take whatever I want from you.” Joel grunts.

You nod as much as you can, but you could hardly even think anything besides his name and mindless babbles of don’t stop and feels so good. He takes this as his sign to go to town, rutting in and out of you quickly.

Each drag of his cock sends you both further into desperation. His hips shift quickly, quicker than he had ever been, but yet somehow still so powerful.

He continued like this for a few minutes, your body jiggling with each movement. His fingers stayed glued to your neck, finding a rhythm of mindlessly flexing against you as he drove into you.

Each thrust was brutal, so quick that you didn’t even have time to process the last before the next came, clearly just chasing after his own release.

You were entirely gone, only able to feel pleasure and the slight yet delicious pain of his intensity.

And then, all of the sudden, without even pulling out of you, he pushed you onto the bed, your front half against the sheets and the other arched. He went with you, draped over your back, his hand returning to your neck while the other went to your hair, tangling in the locks to hold you in place.

You couldn’t move if you tried, but being locked against him was heavenly. You could feel even more at this angle with your back arched, and he made use of it by thrusting even harder.

You can tell he’s starting to lose it now, clouded with his own lust. You can feel him throbbing inside of you, and you garble out pleas for him to come inside you, to mark you as his.

You hear his moans and whines become more undomesticated, knowing he was close.

“I’m gonna fucking come, fuckin’ vixen,” He spat out, and you knew he was there.

He moaned loudly as he came, words garbled out in between him filling you. “Fuckin’ take it, take what I give you. I fucking own you, own this pussy.”

Your eyes rolled back again, your mind going blank, his words sending you crashing into your own release, his hips still rocking into you through his aftershocks.

It hit you like a train, your body lit on fire like no other orgasm. You couldn’t breathe with the force of it mixed with his hand on your neck. You felt a gush spill from your cunt, not able to even process that Joel Miller just made your squirt, your brain just focused on stimulation.

When you began to come down, you both were sizzling with sensitivity, covered in sweat and apparently, the juices of your own release.

His hand left your neck, and you caught your breath, your brain slowly catching up.

“Ho-ly shit…” He sighed, also trying to catch his breath.

“Did I just-”

“Yeah. Yep. Jesus. I wasn’t kidding when I said I should’ve done that sooner…”

You laugh softly, grinning as he slipped out of you. Your brain was still a little hazy, not noticing the spaces in between when he left to grab a washcloth, wiping the both of you off.

It wasn’t long before you found yourself curled against him in the bed, your arms wrapped around him, clinging onto him like a koala.

You checked on him, made sure that everything was okay and that he would be okay.

He laughed and admitted he felt much better, explaining what happened between him and Tommy. He claimed he would go find Tommy tomorrow and apologize.

You can’t help but giggle.

ℌ𝔢𝔞𝔯𝔱-𝔖𝔥𝔞𝔭𝔢𝔡 𝔅𝔬𝔵 (4.3k words)

Summary: You are Ted Garcia's faithful assistant.

Warnings: Dom/Sub tones even though it's never explicitly stated, dom/sub switch, pinv sex, cunnalingus, Ted Garcia is a real eater, explicit smut, not beta read (there are prob so many mistakes lol sorry)

Author's Note: the ted garcia brainrot so bad i had to tell my therapist about eddington

You had to admit- Ted Garcia had a beautiful home. The New Mexico sun rising in the East cast a beautiful golden glow over the already warm home.

You snuck into the house just as the sun was coming up. Well, in all fairness, Ted did give you a key, so you had every right to be here. You, his trusted assistant, were given a key after only six months of working for him. “I can barely keep my head on straight, so in case you need to get in,” He told you after handing you the keys. You hardly needed them in the year and a half since, besides from the rare time you had to bolt back to his house to grab a forgotten sign or paper.

But this was different.

Ted and his office were smack dab in the middle of a brutal re-election process. Things had been going as smoothly as they could with a global pandemic and social reckoning until Joe Cross had been added to that mix. It was a nightmare of dealing with mess after mess, either caused or aggravated by the so-called sheriff. It was terrible for Ted, which in turn, made it terrible for you.

You wanted to help him out, though. Lord knows he had been through enough with Joe and with his son lately. You’d even brought your own supplies.

It was hard to stay quiet, but you did your best. You had to search all over the kitchen to figure out where everything was, but you got the hang of it. You grabbed a bowl, poured some pancake mix in, stirred in some milk, and got to cooking some pancakes.

You got some bacon and eggs going as well, making a full, hearty breakfast. Just as you began to cut some fruit up, you heard footsteps. They were certainly too light and slow to be Ted’s. His son, Eric, walked in, with an equally confused and offput expression.

“What the fuck are you doing here?”

“Listen. I’m sure me being here is the last thing you want. But, you get free breakfast. Plus, I’ll cover for you. Go meet up with one of your friends- Socially distant and safely,” You clarify, pointing at him.

Your words seem to quickly shut him up, as he takes a piece of bacon from the pile with nothing more than a glare.

“Jesus, your dad sleeps like a rock. Is he ever gonna wake up?” You sigh. You can hear Eric chuckle. He grabs a pancake and in true teenage boy fashion, shoves it in his mouth before heading out the door. You raise your eyebrows. You shouldn’t be surprised. The kid had been through too much already- his mother leaving, his father devoting most of his time to his campaign, and now Covid. It must not have been easy.

You lost yourself in your thoughts of worrying about him so much that you didn’t even hear Ted’s footsteps finally clomped down the stairs.

“What the hell are you doing in my kitchen?” He asked, raspy. It was a bit strange to see him so casual in a yellow shirt and sweatpants instead of a suit or a vest, but you couldn’t deny that it was a good look on him.

“Making you breakfast, what else would I be doing? Coffee’s on the table,” You tilt your head towards the table.

“Since when did your job title include breaking into my house?” He grumps, taking the coffee nonetheless. “How did you get in here, anyway?”

“You gave me a key, remember?”

“I knew I would regret that.” He sighs, leaning against the table. “Thank you, though. This is a nice surprise.”

You can’t help but laugh. “No problem. Hopefully it’s all made to your liking. How do you like your eggs? I made some scrambled, but I figured you might want some other form of egg.”

“Why are you doing this for me?” He interrupts.

You finally turn to look at him, shrugging. “You’ve been dealing with a lot of shit lately. Just thought this might help start your day, or something.”

He doesn’t exactly seem convinced. He nods, though. “That it? You broke in just to make me breakfast?”

“Yes?” You replied. You weren’t exactly sure what he was getting at here, but it didn’t sound as innocent as you had intended.

“Hm.” He murmurs. “Eric, get down here! Breakfast!” He yells before taking another gulp of his coffee.

“He already left. Said he was going to hang out with his friend.”

Ted groans again. “And you just let him?”

“He’s not my kid,” You laugh, in a bit of disbelief. “Come on. He’s just going to hang out with a friend. He’s had it rough.”

“Oh, I know he’s had it rough. He’s acted out in every way possible to show me how ‘rough’ he’s had it. You know, this shit reflects badly on me. The drinking, smoking, being out with his little friends past curfew. Now everyone views me as a bad father, and an untrustworthy mayor.” He rants, running his hand through his hair.

You can’t help but chuckle, a smirk on your face. “Are you done? Anything else going wrong in your life?”

He gave you an unenthusiastic look, his eyes squinted.

“Listen, I get it. Being mayor is not easy, and neither is being a father. Things are tough right now. But look on the bright side. You have successfully run this town for four years, the people adore you, you’ve accomplished so much. You have a son who you’ve been through thick and thin with, even when his mother couldn’t, and your doing your best. Plus, you have a really amazing assistant who cooks breakfast.”

Ted’s expression softens, and you turn around to finish the last touches of the meal, knowing you’ve won. Ted was great at overthinking and strategizing, but not so great at pumping the breaks, which is often where you came in.

“You know, I don’t give you enough credit,” He says softly, approaching you. “You really are such a good assistant, and such a sweet girl. Guess I got pretty lucky.”

You smile, more genuinely this time. His words were kind, but his face was… something more. Something… less innocent. 

“You know…” He continued, tilting his head. “I’ve been so stressed lately, I don’t think I’ve had time to properly thank you for all you’ve done for me. So… Thank you.” He says, his voice softly. He’s close, so close, probably the closest he’d ever been to you besides the occasional hug for a picture. It was strange, but not unwelcome. He smelled more sweet than you expected up close- still that manly cologne scent, but something warm and vanilla about it too. It disarmed you in the most unexpected way. 

“No problem,” You said, almost stammering. 

He stared at you for a moment, almost as if sizing you up, then he grabbed the plate from your hand. “Come on, wouldn’t want breakfast to get cold now.” 

He guided you over to the table across from the kitchen, allowing you to sit first. 

The conversation while the two of you ate breakfast was boring, nothing too interesting, but there was an undertone to it that told you it meant more than just busy conversation. He asked questions about you and seemed to be genuinely intrigued. He wanted to know about your life, something that he had only previously gotten bits and pieces of. He knew you loved dogs, but not that you had a dog of your own who you loved dearly. He knew you grew up across the country, but he didn’t know that you hopped on a plane after college and eventually settled here after a few years of traveling. 

Once you were both done, you stood up to start cleaning up, taking dishes. He placed his hand on your wrist, stopping you.

“Hey, let me clean up. You’ve done enough for me already.” 

His touch lingered for longer than necessary. You shook your head.

“Hush and sit.” You said, walking to the sink. “Besides, we have a busy day ahead of us. I don’t mind.”

“Oh, boy. Busy? What the hell else do I have to do today?” 

“Too much, as per usual. We have to start brainstorming for t-shirts, and ideally lock down some slogans. Then, you have a zoom council meeting at three. And then, we have to go over the budget, and you know damn well that’s going to take all night,” You sigh.

“Hm. Well…T-shirts? That’s easy. What about… Tee Garcia? Like Ted, but T-Shirt.” He said, with a shit-eating grin as he looked over to you. 

You rolled your eyes, shaking your head. “I’ll be sure to pass that on, Einstein.” 

You don’t look over to him while you clean the plates and put the leftovers away, but you can practically feel his eyes watching your every move. If you didn’t know him well enough, you would assume he has control issues- but because you’d spent the better part of two years spending every late night, every gala, every function getting to know him, you knew it wasn’t just that. He was looking at you like he was sizing you up, like he did his political opponents, or particularly difficult citizens at city council meetings. It brought a chill to your spine.

You finally evaded his eyes when you turned around to wipe the counters off, feeling a bit relieved that you didn’t have to feel his glare in your peripheral.

Then, footsteps. They were quick, and you thought nothing of them until they stopped directly behind you, and you could feel his breath on your neck.

“You know, I was serious about not giving you enough credit. I really do appreciate you, darlin’.” He whispered.

You froze in your tracks. In all your years of working for him, Ted was a perfect gentleman. Never once even making you think about the fact that you were an attractive, single woman, and he was an attractive, single man.

But now, you were thinking about it. More than just thinking about it.

You felt his hands brush against the waistband of your pants, skimming the small of your back. It gave you goosebumps. It was a light touch, a testing one. One that asked if you were okay with this.

You practically melted against his touch, inspiring a small chuckle from him. He stepped closer, feeling his nose brush against the nape of your neck.

“I just want to show you how much I appreciate your hard work.” He kissed the skin he found softly, like it was precious to him.

You didn’t exactly mean to, but your brain was in such shock from how suddenly all of this hit you, that a throaty moan escaped your lips.

He chuckled again, and you felt the reverberation against your shoulder. He continued kissing, trailing his lips to the left as he pulled the sleeve of your shirt down, exposing more of your skin to him.

His lips left your shoulder, and he instead put his hands on your waist, turning you around to face him. “You’re real pretty from the back, but I wanna see that gorgeous face, hm?”

You look at him, a sense of wonder and amazement in your face. You were almost in disbelief that the charming, enchanting man in front of you seemed just as desperate to get his hands on you as you were yearning for him.

His hand came up to your face, clearly a bit amused by the shock on your face. His thumbs caressed your cheeks. “I have to admit, I’m a little proud that I’ve managed to make you speechless. Think that’s the first time ever,”

You laugh, rolling your eyes. “I’m not speechless. I’m just… taking it all in.”

“I’ve got something else you can take in, if you’re good.”

You roll your eyes again. “Okay, you ruined the moment. That was too sleazy.”

Ted laughs, more genuine this time. The tension is broken now, and it doesn’t feel as heated. “I’m all about sleazy, don’t you know?” His hands drop to your waist, caressing you softly now. “Can I kiss you?”

“Oh, now you want to ask for permission? Where was that attitude before you started making out with my neck?” You tease.

“Oh, darlin’. Your body gave me permission the second I touched you. You were practically purring.”

You can’t argue with that, so instead, you surge forward to kiss him. He seems a bit surprised that you found the confidence, but he kisses you back with just as much fervor. His lips were soft, his mustache hairs tickling your face.

His kiss was surprisingly sweet. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t imagine how his lips may feel against yours at times, and he was more gentle than you really expected. He still had that dark, punishing energy, though, the one that made you want to talk back and push, to see how much he could make it hurt in the best way possible. You were practically foaming at the mouth to see what he could do to you.

He pulled away after a couple of minutes, both of you needing to catch your breath. As soon as he did, you noticed the way his grey sweatpants filled out, beginning to bulge slightly. Your mouth dried.

“I reckon you have a lot of frustration that you want to get out, hm? This re-election campaign has been miserable for both of us.”

Ted tilts his head curiously.

“Yeah, sugar? You want me to take out my frustration on you?” He asks, his voice low. “Want me to use you?”

If the counter behind you wasn’t holding you up, you were certain your knees would’ve buckled. His voice was as soft as honey, and you began to understand his ability to talk his way out of anything. The juxtaposition of his voice and words being so sweet while his eyes looked like they wanted to devour you made a pit in your stomach.

You nodded. “Yes.”

Ted smirked again, like he knew something you didn’t.

“Now, I thought you were a smart girl. I’m always bragging to everyone about how intelligent my pretty assistant is…” He starts, grabbing your chin. “But that didn’t sound very polite. This is my house, I want respect. Try again.” He orders, the humor now gone from his face. This was that darkness that you had witnessed only a few times before, when he was truly pissed and wasn’t getting what he wanted.

You knew exactly what he was asking for. He asked for respect, but what he really wanted was submission.

You adjusted your head, straightening your spine. You were raised with good old fashioned southern manners, and it was solely out of habit to adjust your posture while checking your manners. “I’m sorry, sir. I meant to say yes please, Mr. Garcia.”

You can see the way his jaw works when you not only murmur sir, but Mr. Garcia. It’s exactly what he wanted.

He kissed you again, this time not being patient or gentle. He took, and you gave. He maneuvered his hands to your waist again, but this time he tugged you along with him clumsily to his bedroom.

He didn’t even bother to break the kiss before slipping his hands underneath your shirt. You didn’t expect him to be so handsy, but then again, it’d probably been a while since he felt anything but his own hand.

You managed to find the strength to push him back slightly. He seemed floored that you had the gall to break away, but he was pleased with why.

You fell back onto his bed, landing on your knees. You pulled your shirt off with no hesitation, throwing it to the floor carelessly. Your eyes never left his, and his never left you. You worked on your jeans next, banishing them to the floor just like the shirt.

You were left in just your bra and panties, fairly bare in front of him.

“My, you make a pretty picture.” He said, simpering like a wolf. He sat on the bed, his body by your ankles. He fondled your legs gently, wrapping his big hands around them before pulling you down to be positioned perfectly in front of him.

This time, his kisses trailed on your legs, starting at your knee and going up closer to your cunt, but never reaching it.

He was trying to make you impatient, and it was working. You groaned, realizing he was going to make you beg for it.

“Please, Mr. Garcia? Please make me feel good…” You crooned, giving him your best doe eyes.

It worked incredibly quick.

He pressed a wet kiss to your cunt over the fabric of your panties, now wet with both his saliva and your wetness accumulating.

“So wet for me, and I’ve hardly even touched you. Ain’t that somethin’.” He sighs, finally pulling your panties off.

He begins expectantly teasing, trailing his tongue around your clit and hole with a feather-light touch. It’s barely anything, but it’s certainly something. You sigh softly, feeling his lips against you.

“You taste so perfect, darlin’. So perfect, like honey.” He looked up, his perfect brown eyes making contact with yours, and you could’ve came then and there, despite his touch still being teasing.

“Fuck, more, please… Need to feel you…” You whine, your breathing sped up.

“Oh, more? Didn’t think you were the begging type.”

“I am when you keep teasing me,” You bite back, throwing your head back against the pillows.

“Hey. Watch the attitude. You can get your own self off for all I care.” He barks back.

It sends sparks into the pit of your stomach, your eyes widening.

“No, please. I’ll be good, I swear.”

“’S what I like to hear.” He amends, before sliding a finger into your hole.

It makes your back arch, and a moan slip from your throat. He knew exactly how to arch his fingers in a way that made you feel lightheaded.

He chuckled again, seeing the effect that he had on you. He tilted his head down, adding his tongue to the equation and sucking softly. The combination had you seeing stars.

His continued sucking and licking against your clit was only made better when he added another finger, increasing the delicious stretch. All you could think about was him, all you could see, all you could feel.

You could already feel yourself getting dangerously close to the edge. There was so much tension built up between the two of you, and the sight of him between your legs was practically already enough.

And then he slowed down.

You could’ve clobbered him. All of your instincts told you to yell, beg, do whatever it took to get him to keep going. But you knew otherwise.

“Fuck, Ted…”

He hushes you softly, his voice surprisingly gentle as he retracts his fingers. “Hush, sugar. I can’t let this perfect pussy go to waste, can I? I wanna feel you. Okay, angel?”

You nodded quickly, although the information was slow to process. Honestly, at this point, you were so desperate that you might have agreed to anything just to feel him inside of you.

You watched him as he pulled away from you, standing up to walk to the nightstand beside his bed. He carefully pulled out a condom before throwing it haphazardly onto the bed. He then pulled his shirt off before stopping to stare at you again.

The way he looked at you brought another chill to the back of your neck. He pulled his sweatpants off, watching you closely.

He was left in his boxers, but instead of completely undressing, he quickly straddled you and kissed you, his grip on your chin almost bruising. You could feel his cock against you finally, and your eyes rolled.

The kiss lasted a while, your lips slotting together in a mash of teeth and tongues. It was messy, and sloppy, and everything that both of you needed.

He pulled away after a moment with concern etched on his face. “How much time do we have? Fuck, we’re going to be late for that council meeting. I- ”

You immediately shook your head, moving your hand to cover his mouth.

“Shut up. Stop. It’s fine. We still have plenty of time. Besides, who cares if you miss one council meeting? It’s just going to be Paula bitching about something or other again.”

Ted chuckled, clearly amused by your sudden change of attitude, moving your hand down. “Paula might care. ‘S not a good look, to miss a meeting. I’m sure they could twist it into some type of story about how I’m unreliable. Plus, I don't even know where Eric is. I need to text him and make sure he's not getting into some type of trouble, and-”

Something inside you snapped. Ted was too calculated. Too in his head.

You flipped him over, so you were now sitting in his lap, on top of him. His face displayed his shock and surprise.

He went to speak again, but you shook your head, stopping him in his tracks.

“No. Shut the fuck up. You need to turn your brain off. Stop worrying. Stop thinking. And… fuck me. Into the mattress. Show me what you can do to me.”

He blinked for a moment, feeling a little stupid. He did not expect you to take control like that, and most of all, he didn’t expect to like it so much.

This time, he was the speechless one. His soft brown eyes looked into yours, and his dick twitched pathetically.

You grinned softly. “Oh, you like when I take over? You like when I’m not nice about it?” You look down at him, before moving to unclasp your bra, letting in fall and exposing yourself to him fully.

He looked you all over, like he couldn’t decide whether to focus on your tits, your body pressed against his cock, or your gorgeous face.

You grabbed his chin, forcing him to look up. You hear his teeth clack together with the force of it. “Eyes up here, cowboy.”

He moaned softly, a little whimper from deep in his throat.

This was honestly unexpected. You couldn’t have guessed that when you and Ted fucked, you would end up being the one essentially dominating him, but it was working out well.

You reached down, rubbing your hand against his dick in his boxers. He felt thick, and you could feel a splotch of precome when you ran the tip of your fingers against the head of his cock.

“Here’s what I want you to do. I want you to fuck me, to use me, and to forget about everything else. No council meetings, no budgets, no Paula, none of it. Focus on me. Focus on how my pussy feels.”

You pull his boxers down, not even bothering with pulling them all the way off. His cock is not incredibly big, but it’s mouthwateringly thick. You briefly think about how your lips would feel around it, how badly you want to taste him and lick him- but you’d save that for another time. You had a mission to accomplish right now.

You grabbed the condom and made quick work of rolling the condom on.

You sank down on him slowly, working him in carefully. His eyes rolled back, blurting out an assortment of expletives and groans.

“Fuuuck, feels so… You feel so fucking good on my cock…” He whined.

You smiled, threading your hands through the soft brown curls on his head.

You can feel how hot and thick he is inside you, pushing into you like a hand into a glove. It’s wet and passionate, and perfect.

You wait until he’s buried inside you to the hilt to move. You don’t move much, just a soft bounce, but the effect it has on him is clear. His eyebrows are furrow and there are beads of sweat on his forehead. He seems like he’s holding himself back, trying to stay in control.

You trail kisses over his jaw and move your mouth towards his ear, biting softly.”

“Fuck, Mr. Garcia, you’re so big, feels so fucking good…” You whisper, your breathing deep. “Want to feel you for days. I’ll be sitting in my chair at work, in your office, thinking about how good you fucked me. Maybe you should start using me at your desk, when you’re all frustrated and pissed off.”

He grunted, and you can tell that was what it took. The thought of you being at his beck and call for whenever he needed to bury himself inside you, taking all of his stress and anger away…

He immediately thrusted up into you, and you whimpered. You felt him go so deep, pressing just right against your g-spot.

It was off to the races at that point. You both were a mess of sweat, moans, pressing and pushing against each other, of gnashing teeth and tongues and hands gripping onto each other. You felt his hand snake up to rub against your clit, and you were done for. The fire in your stomach grew and you could not longer hold on. You came so hard that all you could manage to do was close your eyes and hold on.

It only seemed to spur him on more. He gripped onto you like you were a part of him and thrusted into you in short, aborted movements.

He quickly became wrecked. Feeling your cunt contract around him was heavenly. He plowed into you, shaking both of you with the force. He buried his face against your neck and jutted into you one, two, three more times, and he was coming.

Both the sound and feeling of his orgasm was immaculate to you. His moans were desperate and breathy, and the feeling of his body somehow both tense and relaxed against you was everything you could’ve dreamed of.

The two of you took a while to recover, catching your respective breaths. He pulled out of you reluctantly, throwing the condom away and sighing.

You looked at him with a bit of a smirk, though you weren’t exactly sure what you found humorous.

His hand found yours, massaging it softly. He looked at you with that look in his eyes that told you he had some sort of devious idea forming.

“Were you serious about letting me fuck you at work?” He asked, your grin spreading to him.

𝖕𝖚𝖗𝖌𝖆𝖙𝖔𝖗𝖞 (4.1k words)

Summary: You were a tried and true catholic even despite the apocalypse, and Joel had slowly learned to accept it. 

Warnings: LOTS OF RELIGIOUS JOKES/REFERENCES, a lot of blasphemy whoops. Explicit smut, unprotected sex, slight dom/sub undertones, does this count as religious smut? pinv sex, oral, fingering, language, barely beta read lmfao

Author’s Note: this is pretty much just filled with Tyler Childers references, sorry in advance LOL. This is also my first tumblr fic as well as my first Pedro/Joel fic <3 

(P.S. If you really like these vibes, I wrote this almost entirely off of two Tyler Childers songs: Purgatory, and Feathered Indians. Def recommend listening to this while listening to the Purgatory album <3)

Nobody in the town really could figure Joel out. He was outwardly grumpy and cold, but he had a soft underbelly of kindness and warmth that came out when you really got to know him.

For example, you. You were everything Joel wasn’t. A girl, younger than him, short, long hair, soft features… and a devoted catholic.

It wasn’t common out here. Most people knew God abandoned everyone long ago and had lost hope. It was a waste of time at best and borderline offensive at worst. But the rosary around your neck never left, and you prayed every day and night.

You couldn’t blame anyone for not being faithful. You had spent many nights awake, questioning yourself and your religion, wondering why you couldn’t let this go like everyone else had.

But it just… stuck. You worked as a nurse in Jackson, spending your days faced with death and sickness and pain. It was all worth it, of course, and it was necessary work, but if saying a few prayers after each patient made you feel a little more human, you figured it wasn’t that bad.

Joel was certainly off put by your beliefs. He saw your rosary and he assumed you were another insane fanatic who was lucky to not find herself in one of those Seraphite cults he’d heard of. He wanted nothing to do with you, and he was certain you could simply sense that he was filled head to toe with sin and keep the distance yourself.

You refused to keep your distance. You didn’t see him as evil or sinful. You saw him as a sad, lonely person who had undoubtedly seen so many horrible things in his life. You couldn’t give a single damn if he believed or not.

It took him a while. A longwhile- about 8 months of leaving baked goods on his doorstep, getting to know Ellie, offering gardening help. Pretty much anything you could think of to make him interested in actually getting to know you.

It took him getting insanely sick in December for him to finally realize that you were just a caring soul with a big heart, not interested in scolding him or converting him. You sent Ellie to her room in the garage, insisting she stay away so as to not get sick, and cooked every one of Joel’s meals for two weeks. You brought his medicine, new water, washcloths and blankets to fight the fevers and chills. When he started to feel better- but not well enough to get out of bed yet- you brought him books, crosswords, and journals to entertain himself.

By the end of it, Joel felt like he was seeing you for the first time. Seeing who you truly were, and not just seeing you as some scared and shy woman. You were the only person he had ever met, especially now that the world was an apocalyptic wasteland, that was so selfless and giving.

Ever since, the two of you had a… friendship… of sorts. You brought him and Ellie goodies, he brought you ingredients and fixed things around your house for you. It just worked, and you never had to think too much about it.

Until you did start thinking about it. Too much. You thought about his strong, worn hands. Hands that you wondered how would feel wrapped around your waist, or your legs, or inside you. 

You were absolutely fucked. He was nearly 30 years older than you, and he certainly had no interest in chasing some random girl who couldn’t leave him alone. 

Except, you had only assumed as much. But one night, while Ellie was away at one of her friend’s houses, Joel had convinced you to have a glass of whiskey with him. And you, being the lightweight you were, slurred your way through a drunken confession about how badly you dreamt of him. 

Joel’s eyes twinkled as you mumbled your love affair with his hands and arms, listening intently. 

Truth was, he had eyes for you since the moment he saw you. Your soft lips and gorgeous eyes had him drawn in since the very first moment. 

You woke up in his bed, but the night ended with nothing more than a hot and heavy make out session. Joel was a gentleman through and through. He wanted you to remember when he fucked you, anyway. 

You both insisted the relationship go slow and steady, but the way he was wrapped around your finger was instantaneous. The secret was out as soon as Ellie put two and two together, and you moved into their house only a couple weeks later. 

It was unusual, the way you and Joel just… got along. As mentioned, he was rough around the edges and stern and grumpy. You were emotional and affectionate and sunny. You brought sunshine into the house again, and often were the only source of peace when Ellie and Joel had their disagreements. 

And he was surprisingly accepting of your faith. In fact, especially at the beginning of the relationship, you had kept it strictly to yourself. But as you began to open up and learn more about each other, his curiosity and mindfulness did as well. 

It started with small questions, laced with the usual judgement and failure to understand. How could you possibly believe? Why would you do that to yourself? 

You answered every question with patience, and Joel seemed to find peace with it over time. He would never believe himself, and that was more than okay with you. But he loved you, and he respected your faith. He let you keep your bible on the bedside table, surrounded by the bottles of beer he would drink while you both sat quietly in bed reading, or chatting, or tracing every square inch of each other's skin.

He was hopelessly in love with you, and he wanted to give you the world. 

Your favorite was like today, when Ellie decided to go out for the weekends- undoubtedly up to some kind of mischief with her friends. Joel was always on patrol until 4 on Fridays, giving you enough time to get home from the clinic and start dinner. 

Him walking in the door to the scent of a warm dinner and you in one of his flannels and a pair of shorts was practically heaven on earth. 

You hum to yourself as he leaves his muddy boots at the door. He felt like a horny teenager all over again, sauntering up behind you to wrap his arms around your waist while you cut the vegetables up. 

“Catholic girl, pray for me. You’re my only hope for heaven,” He says, grinning while he places soft kisses against your neck. He always managed to say the things that made your knees go weak. 

His hands trail from your rosary down your chest, tracing his fingers over your stomach. You could feel the back of his belt buckle pressing into your thigh, leaving an impression you wish would never disappear.

“Joel… dinner first.” You murmured unconvincingly, pressing into his kisses.

“Just appreciating what God put on this earth for me. Ain’t nothin’ wrong with that, is there, darlin’?” 

You felt yourself blush hard. He knew exactly which buttons to press to get you to surrender. 

“No, of course not…” You replied, feeling his touch get lighter and less purposeful. It left goosebumps forming. 

You found yourself grabbing for his retreating hands almost instantly, longing to have the warmth back. Joel chuckled but allowed you to pull him back in. 

“Oh, no, baby. I thought you had to finish dinner. Can’t finish dinner with me all over you.” 

“Can too. Just let me…” You moved to the side slightly, his fingers still attached to your hips, throwing the cut vegetables into the soup pot boiling on the stove. You replace the lid and return to your spot in between his legs, this time facing him. “See? Now we have all the time in the world.” Your smile grew as you wrapped your arms around his neck, holding onto him as if he would disappear. 

His hands, in the meanwhile, wrapped around the rosary around your neck. One of his nervous habits was to play with it, absentmindedly running his hands over the beads. His eyes didn’t meet yours until you put one of your hands on his face, soft fingers meeting the rough and harsh hairs of his greying beard. 

He smiles softly, finally meeting your gaze. You swore he had the most gorgeous eyes, eyes that had cried so many tears, that had seen such horrible things. You were the only thing he wanted to see, standing in front of him for the rest of his life- however long that may be. 

You may believe that there was a heaven beyond this life, but Joel was sure that you were his heaven. 

You brought your lips to his, kissing him gently. Usually your kisses were sensual and desperate, but this was slow. A type of intimacy that was rare for the two of you. 

He pulled away only when he had to. You could feel his erection fluffing up against you. “Ellie…” He mumbled, knowing that if this were to keep going, it would have to be taken to the bedroom.

“Ellie’s over at someone’s house. We got the house to ourselves this weekend.” You assured before sinking to your knees in front of him. 

He smiled down at you, hands smoothing through your hair. “Someone’s house? We really need to be better about watching that girl…” He sighed. 

“Hey… Turn the dad mode off. You’ve got me to yourself for an entire weekend. No work, no chores, no interruptions. You can worry about Ellie at 8 A.M. Monday morning.” You say, beginning to pull at his belt.

He couldn’t help but chuckle, his eyes going dark. He never would’ve bet that the shy, God-fearing girl he met those years ago would be in his kitchen, on her knees, looking at him like he hung the stars. 

You continued unbuckling his belt and opening his jeans, pulling down his boxers enough to expose him. 

He was thick, and you breathed in the scent of his musk. He always teased you, but you constantly found yourself all over him when he got back from patrol, all sweaty from hard work and sunshine. You could’ve sworn that the pheromones or something drove you insane. 

Much like kissing, you very rarely had the chance to take your time when giving Joel head. Usually it was quick, sloppy bedtime blowjobs, just to hold both of you over when you didn’t have time to fuck. 

This was the exact opposite. You had all the time in the world, and you intended on making him aware of that. 

His breath hitched when you licked a strip from his shaft to his tip, just taking in the taste against your tongue. It was salty against your mouth, encouraging you to taste more. You let your tongue run between the space between his tip and the rest of his cock, worshipping every last inch. You felt the way he throbbed against you, already struggling to keep his composure. 

That was exactly what you wanted, though. Usually you didn’t have the opportunity to build him up, flip that switch and make him take control. You wanted to feel him for the next week. 

“Fuck, baby, I can’t handle all that kitten lick shit. I’ve had a long day at work, darlin’.” He sighed, grip on your hair tightening. 

You smirked up at him, biting your lip and instead pressing the side of his cock against your face. “Hm? I’m not doing anything.” 

His jaw tightened after a moment, realizing what you were doing. 

“I’m going to give you one more chance, babygirl. Be a good girl for me, sunshine. I know you can.” 

You didn’t let the smirk fall from your face. You pulled back slightly, paying close attention to how Joel was unsure of what your next move was, and then took him entirely in your mouth. No warming up, no acclimatizing. Just his tip straight to the back of your throat. You gagged, of course. Hard. His hand practically pulled some hair out with how hard it gripped your scalp, not expecting such amazing stimulation. He grunted out a series of curse words, pulling you off of his dick. 

He had to catch his breath for a moment, being reminded of his age. He stared down at you, and you could practically already see what was coming.

“Fuck… I fucking told you, baby. Just can’t fucking behave, can you?” The malice in his voice thrilled you straight to your core. He was so good at playing this part, at creating this anger and dominance, it always made you feel like you were floating. 

As painful as it was, he tucked himself back in his jeans, wincing. You were still catching your own breath when he hauled you up, handling you like a rag-doll as he held your hands together. He turned you away from him before gently slamming you against the counter, crowded by his body behind you. The counter was just high enough for you to be bent at the waist.

He made quick work of your skirt and panties, pulling it off of you, but he left your top in place for the time being. Instead of bothering with anything else, he found his place behind you again, pulling your top half against him. He was just a bit taller than you, so his nose rested against the top of your head. 

“Now, I’m only going to say this one time, darlin’. You listening?” He asked, gripping your face tightly. 

You nod, your heart speeding up. Feeling his rough fingers against your face was nothing short of incredible. “Yes, Joel. I’m listening.”

“You better tell whatever God you believe in- whatever God is up there right now, to look away. ‘Cause the things I’m gonna do to you, sunshine…” He trailed off with a sleazy whistle, and you felt your heart drop to your stomach. You practically rolled your eyes back. 

“Fuck, Joel…” You gasped, wiggling your hips back in an attempt to speed him up. 

All it did was make him laugh and grab onto your hips. “Mm, cursing… Not very holy.” He teases. 

“Fuck you,” You reply quickly. He sniffs, trying to hide his obvious amusement. 

“Other way around, darlin’.” He finally returns his fingers to the rosary, but this time, he trails them down after rolling a few of the beads. Instead, his fingers dip into your shirt, pulling the hem down to find your breasts. 

“Always so perfect. Made just for me, huh?” He comments, feeling you relax against him as he squeezes and prods at your tits. 

“Just for you…” You nodded, feeling the pleasure start to take over your brain. 

You particularly loved when he did this to you; made you stop thinking about anything else but him. It was the break you needed, the peace that praying couldn’t bring you. 

You moaned softly, his fingers bringing so much titillation but not enough at the same time. He could sense the way your mind went dumb for him. 

“Joel, please…” You whimper, starting to feel desperate. 

“Shhh, darlin’. Y’don’t gotta beg. I know what you need.” 

He bends you back over the counter, pressing his back against yours again. He only moves back to remove his aching cock from the confines of his jeans. He kicked his jeans and boxers off, leaving you chuckling as you craned your neck to watch him throw his shirt to some corner of the kitchen. 

He smiled back at your grin, wanting to wipe it right off of your face. He quickly spit onto his fingers, finding your cunt dripping for him already. He, copying your move earlier, had no hesitation or reluctance to shove to fingers inside of you.

You yelped, mainly out of surprise. He quickly found your spot and was curling against it, watching as your eyes rolled back, not expecting him to be so precise and quick. 

“Not so funny, is it, sunshine?” He questioned rhetorically, eyes lighting up watching and feeling you grind against his fingers, your greedy pussy begging for more. 

“Joel, please… Want you inside me. Need it, God, I fucking need it.” You cried out. 

“God’s not here, darlin’. Just me. And ‘m gonna fill you up.” 

He pulled his fingers out of you after feeling you squeeze them so perfectly a few more times. Unable to stand waiting much more himself, he finally guided his cock towards your cunt. 

You felt the stretch as he breached you, the delicious contracting of your walls pulling him in. It made the back of his neck tingle. He was unable to hold back moans of his own, already feeling so destroyed by the warm perfection of you. 

He reached the hilt, trying to go slow as to not hurt you, but you were both pretty wrecked. 

He thrusted slowly, just wanting to feel the absolute bliss of the tight drag. Wanting to feel every last inch of being inside you. It felt like you were built just for him, perfectly made just for his pleasure. 

Meanwhile, the feeling of his tip crowding against your spot was practically ethereal. You arched your back aimlessly. 

Joel was lost for a few moments in the ecstasy, but after a minute he came to and realized that you still had your shirt on. He wanted this slow and he wanted to be able to feel every centimeter of your flesh, not a single thing covered by fabric, as God had made the both of you. He wanted to become one. 

“Joel… Fuck. Need to see you.” You blurted out, your hands resting below you on the counter to support yourself. 

He stopped immediately, not sure why he didn’t have you facing him in the first place. He pulled out, as painful as it was, and flipped you around. The cabinets supported most of your legs, so even though they felt weak, you were still supported while Joel reconfigured. 

“Perfect girl. Just needed to feel me like this, huh?” He asked, before pulling you against him again. Now, your ass rested on the counter and allowed you to wrap your arms and hands around him. 

He pulled your shirt off haphazardly, banishing it to the same corner as his shirt. Your tits pressed against his chest. 

You were both surrounded by each other, hardly a bit of skin that wasn’t touching. It was perfect. 

“Love you so much,” You moaned, taking advantage of having access to his neck by kissing and biting at the skin. His eyes softened, a small smile on his face as he tried to focus.

Your nails found purchase in his back, leaving little indents. You had never been bold enough to ask him straight up, but you were pretty sure that the pain egged him on, as well as the little scratches left over. Like proud battle scars, scars that he wore happily- unlike a lot of the other scars he bore. 

Trying not to get distracted was a difficult task. Feeling you nip and lick as his neck had him closing his eyes, letting his head go slightly slack against yours. 

He managed to line himself back up to your hole, pushing in much more slowly this time. 

And this time, at this angle… Both of you were gasping for breath. All he could manage to do was hold onto you like his life depended on it, probably leaving bruises on you this time too, and roll his hips. 

“I can feel you so fucking deep,” You sigh. 

“Love you more than anything above or below, my sunshine. Fuck.” He groaned. He wanted this slow and sensual, but it was so hard to not just speed up and take you apart. 

Each thrust was punishing, though. The slow pace managed to accumulate so much more power and the lingering build up had you struggling to breathe after only a couple minutes. 

“Can feel you, y’know? Gonna come fr’me, angel? Show me how good it is, darlin’.” He encouraged, feeling your pussy start to stutter deliciously. 

As if feeling him fuck you to hell and back wasn’t enough, his grunts and groans in your ear could’ve made you come all on their own. You felt the tension build in your stomach, desperation taking over.

You chanted his name as you came, and he resorted to grinding his cock inside you instead of long, hard thrusts, which made you see stars.

Joel had to grit his teeth to not come then and there, almost going completely feral at the feeling of your orgasm. 

Once you felt like you could properly breathe and see again, you realized he was holding off just for you. The feeling made your cunt spasm again, and you couldn’t help but chuckle as he responded. 

You wanted him to use you. You wanted to feel that carnal heat of sin, the type of sin that made you feel like bathing in holy water wouldn’t save you. 

“Joel… Wanna feel you come inside me. Please. Make me yours? Want everyone to know.” You whispered, taking your turn to encourage him. 

He groaned, starting to speed up, bouncing you against him softly. 

“Everyone to know, huh? Whole town needs to know how I fucked you six ways from Sunday?” He grit out.

He couldn’t handle talking anymore, finally just letting his animalistic instincts take over and thrust into you. The two of you were so close, so together, so… one. 

Maybe this world was some sort of sick purgatory, fighting for your lives and for everything you loved, but being in Joel Miller’s arms was as close to heaven on earth you could possibly get. 

The realization had you feeling dangerously close again. It was almost like he could sense it- either that or he noticed your sobs of pleasure, and one of his hands blindly navigated to your clit. The message was clear, even if he couldn’t use his words anymore, just one more for me, angel, and you came again, your orgasm hitting like a train, feeling the wetness drip onto both of your thighs. 

He moaned loudly, his grunts filling the kitchen while you whimpered at the feeling of him using you. At the last moment, you tangled your fingers in his hair and bringing him even closer as he came, deep inside of you. It was desperate, bestial, but you couldn’t waste another second not kissing his perfect lips. You shoved your tongue in his mouth, tasting him and just taking it in. 

After a couple minutes of heavy breathing and kissing, you both were pretty worn. You both chuckled softly, smiling. 

“Hey, there, pretty girl.” He sighed happily, in a way that made it clear he just got laid. It made you burst out into laughter. 

“Hi there, sexy man.” You nuzzled your nose against him, taking in the smell of his musk again. 

He pulled out softly, setting you on the counter while he grabbed his boxers and your panties and top. He pulled his boxers back on before kneeling to help pull your panties back up, but not without leaving trails of kisses on your thighs and stomach. He pulled your top back on after that, but secretly wished he could convince you to keep it off the rest of the night. 

You smiled and bit your lip the entire time, feeling like a giddy teenager the entire time. He was so perfect at taking you apart, but also incredibly perfect at building you right back up, making you safe and comfortable. 

Your legs, surprisingly, were not that wobbly when you hopped down from the counter, holding onto his arm. 

“Go sit down and relax now. You must be exhausted from patrol.” You command, shooing him away. 

He put his arms up in surrender, not wanting to argue with the idea of curling up on the couch while you finished dinner, but his smirk didn’t drop. 

He slapped your ass before you even knew it was coming, and said, “Y’know, next time you want to feel the Holy Spirit enter you, you could just ask nicely.” He said.