fi🐰

Day 1

Day 2 coming soon

Day 3

Day 4

teaser 1

teaser 2

Jackson always felt more lively in the summer. As the warm breeze flows through the rugged mountain tops, it smooths the townsfolk out. Everyone suddenly becomes more relaxed, shedding their jackets for shorts and tank tops. Canned vegetables are replaced for fresh ones, as the harvest peaks. Even the construction continues, as the ground dries up from spring showers, projects new and old are completed, building new homes and community buildings for the people of Jackson.

The sounds of children’s laughter and buzzing insects echo through town, as more people come out of their houses, staying out as late as the evening sun.

The late night conversations started, sitting on warm porch swings, drinks in hand, staying up til the early hours of the night. Community gatherings became more common, campfires replaced the stuffy, fire logged living rooms. Summer has a way of reminding you how good this life could be if you just relax and enjoy it.

Today, there’s a small get-together happening outside, underneath the trees. The people of Jackson are spread out in the grass, some bringing towels or blankets, and others bringing their secret stashes of strong moonshine. You knew today was going to be a good day, as you stepped through the field. The blazing sun burned against your skin as you walked through the crowd, dress flowing in the breeze looking around, trying to find a good spot to cool off.

Getting used to your surroundings, you spot Maria, standing next to one of the fold out tables. You decide to join her, chucking a blueberry into your mouth humming at the taste.

“Wow, you look great today,” Maria says, smiling up at you as she organizes the assortment of fruits. “I don’t believe I've ever seen you in a dress, is it new?”

Shyly, you buck your head down, staring at the freshly clipped grass. “Got it awhile ago on a patrol, decided it was too hot today for pants and just threw it on.”

“Well for throwing it on, you look beautiful,” she teases, playfully rolling her eyes. “Want a peach? We just picked them, finally have enough trees for a bountiful harvest.”

Nodding your head, Maria throws you a peach.

Catching the fruit in your hand, you stare at the yellow fruit, memories flood your mind of the last time you had fresh fruit from a tree like this. Rubbing your thumb over the fuzzy produce, you push your nail into the side, breaking the skin.

Bringing it up close to your face to examine it, you take a deep breath, smelling the sweet nectar dripping from the new puncture.

As the liquid falls down the surface, it drips onto your fingers. Quickly, you stick your finger into your mouth, cleaning the sticky residue as your eyes flick over to the fruit, bringing it up to your mouth, you run your tongue up the side. The faint taste of the peach fills your tastebuds, eyes rolling back at the sensation.

Biting into the peach, it bursts into your mouth, the stickiness dribbles down past your chin, falling on your chest. Embarrassed, you crouch down, taking the front of your dress you wipe up the residue. Standing back up, you continue eating the peach, biting it down to the core. Running your sticky hands down your dress, you throw the seed on the ground, kicking it under the table.

As you look down at the grass tickling your feet, you feel someone staring at you. Looking up, your eyes meet Joel, standing across the grassy field with a drink in his hand, half-listening to some story Tommy’s telling him, who’s standing right beside him.

His gaze is intense, eyes not faltering as you stare right back at him. You can tell something is bothering him, the knot in his eyebrows shows that and it’s obvious. Although the sun shines a cast over his face, his eyes are dark. There’s something possessive in the way he looks at you, as you are unable to pull your eyes from his. Maria calls out to you, distracting you from your thoughts as she gestures for you to come sit beside her on a spread out blanket on the grass.

Plopping down beside her, the two of you begin a casual conversation. As Maria speaks about the upcoming plans for town, your mind drifts, looking towards the direction Joel was in earlier but find the spot empty. Your stomach sinks, wondering where the man went as you turn back to your chat with Maria. Laughing at something she said, you feel the blanket sink deeper into the ground, feeling someone sit next to you.

Looking over to your side, you find the man you were searching for— Joel, groaning as he sits, draping a relaxed arm over your back as his other hand holds his very own peach.

“Saw ya eating one over there, wondered if they tasted as good as you made ‘em look.” Joel huffs, nodding his head towards the fruit.

You watched as Joel brought it to his mouth, taking a large bite as it gushed with the same juiciness as yours had, squelching against his mouth. The liquid ran across his beard as he hummed, licking his lips clean of the juice. You zoned out, eyes forgetting to blink as you ogled him, wishing to trade places with the small fruit. Remembering the last time he had you spread out, beard tickling your thighs as he ate you out similar to the peach, except it was your juices that graced his cheeks.

“Here darlin’, how ’bout you eat the rest,” Joel asserts, putting it up to your mouth.

He doesn’t have to tell you twice as you sit up on your knees and part your lips, allowing him to feed it to you. The flesh busts in your mouth as you stare up at him. His gaze is similar to how he was staring at you earlier, but this time he’s somehow more obvious with it. His eyes drift from yours and down your body, lingering on the plush skin of your exposed thighs. Taking his free hand he places a palm to the skin, calloused fingers grazing your warm leg. The silence between the two of you lingers, until your teeth graze the hard center of the peach. He wraps the seed in his hand, taking a digit to your mouth, wiping the access juice from your lip.

“Bet you’re tastin’ as sweet as that peach,” Joel whispers, voice low laced in want.

Your breath catches, letting out a faltered breath, “wanna find out?”

Before Joel could reply, you feel Maria nudge you with her shoulder, asking you to come with her to greet some guests. Your lips pull into a half smile, standing up as Joel nods his head in your direction.

You allow Maria to pull you into the direction of the crowd, skin fuzzy with the feeling of Joel’s touch lingering on your skin.

Each time as you greet someone, nodding and laughing along with the conversation, you look over in his direction. Joel finds you through the crowd each time, both feeling the quiet ache in your bones. As you follow behind her, you shimmy through the crowd of people looking for an ample exit, but you sense him before you feel him. His heavy presence shifts the air, as he places a hand to the small of your back.

He leans into your ear, voice quiet enough no one else can hear, “we’re leavin’,” Joel declares.

You feel your shoulders relax, finally relieved from your duties with the out you’ve been waiting on all afternoon. Nodding against him, as he guides you out the crowd, not bothering to say any goodbyes.

The air clings to your sticky skin, as the two of you walk to the exit. Joel’s hand remains on the same spot on your back, his touch grounds you, the silence between the two of you guiding you home.

Joel’s feet abruptly stop against the sidewalk, “the way you were eatin’ that peach,“ he sighs, “you know what you were doin’ to me.”

Heat flushes to your already warm cheeks as you turn to look up at him, but he continues to walk, gazing forward towards the street with a faint smirk plastered against his face.

“You’ve been drivin’ me crazy,” he drawls, ”this dress…caught everybody starin’ at ya all damn day.”

You feel your heartbeat rise to your head as his words mixed with the heat, makes you feel dizzy. Every step getting closer to the front door, as your belly blooms with anticipation.

“Wore it for you,” you say softly, letting your confession linger in the air.

As your feet meet the red brick driveway Joel stops, turning your head in his direction, he brings his lips to your head, “don’t I know it.”

Joel grabs your hand as he leads you up the steps into the small house, and you take it, leading the way to his bedroom. His hand wraps around your waist as he kisses you gently, placing your palm against his face, scratching your nails against his beard. Joel pulls away from the kiss, rubbing his cheek against your hand, planting a kiss to the warm skin.

Joel takes his time undressing you, slipping the straps down from your shoulders, skin pebbling against his feather-like touch. The dress puddles at your feet, leaving you standing there bare, cunt barley covered in the thin fabric of your underwear.

Joel runs his face against you, nose rubbing the crease of your neck. “Perfect,” he mumbles, lips ghosting kisses down your shoulder, “every day I'm reminded you chose me.”

Taking a hand to your breast, he squeezes it gently, allowing your nipple to harden in his hand. “Don’t know how I got so lucky,” he says to himself, sitting on the edge of the bed, guiding you between his legs.

Running his hands against your stomach, Joel latches his mouth to your nipple, swirling his tongue around the bud. You gasp at his touch, wrapping your arms around his head as he works around your breast.

His free hand goes to your other breast, massaging it in his hand as his mouth bites the flesh.

Yanking the grey hairs at the nape up his neck, Joel’s head raises from your grip as you kiss him passionately.

He allows you to deepen the kiss, tasting the faint remnants of peaches as he sticks his tongue into your mouth. You swirl your tongue against his, not fighting for dominance but exploring one another.

Joel snakes his hands behind you, thumbs locking against the lace band of your underwear, pushing the flimsy fabric down your legs.

You sigh, throwing your head back as you feel your exposed heat catch in the air, Joel continues, massaging the meat on your thighs.

Thick hands spread you apart, holes further exposed to the air, Joel lays a firm slap to your ass, “pretty as a peach,” he utters, turning you around to get a good look at your bottom.

He continues his worship, hands kneading the supple skin, feeling the peach fuzz on his fingertips. Spreading you from the back this time, his eyes focus on your tight asshole, eyes drifting further down to your sex. Running a thick digit to your center, you both exhale, hearing the stickiness fill the silent bedroom.

Suddenly, you feel his absence against you, turning around, you watch as Joel pushes himself to the top of the bed, positioning his head by the bed frame. He lays back on the bed, pushing the pillow to the side allowing his head to lay flat.

You come to straddle him, your bottom meeting his thighs, “nuh uh, come here,” Joel tuts, gripping your thighs, encouraging you up his chest until your cunt is level to his face.

You feel self conscious as you look down at the man, hands gripping the headboard in an attempt to not touch him, “don’t wanna hurt you,” you whimper, staring down into his eyes.

“Ain’t gonna hurt me,” he grunts, pulling you down to his face. Joel inhales against your sex, groaning as his nose tickles against your folds, “like I told ya, perfect.”

Licking a fat wet strip against your folds, Joel rolls his tongue against you, licking and sucking your clit. You pant, the pleasure feels rougher at this angle, feeling his beard brush roughly against your inner thighs. Each time you tried to move, he’d push you down farther, his large hands gripping your thighs holding you down into his mouth.

Looking down, you could barely see him, brows furrowed as his eyes closed, losing himself inside of you.

Relaxing into his touch, you rock against his face, fully sitting on him, your knuckles turn white as you continue to grip the headboard.

His tongue was deep inside of you, as his nose hit your clit every time you rutted against him, feeling yourself getting closer to the edge, “J-Joel, fuck, I’m close.”

Joel raised his mouth, bringing his lips back to your clit as he found your sensitive spot. Maneuvering his middle and ring finger to your entrance, he inserted them both at the same time, flicking up into your g-spot.

Your legs shake as you come undone, riding his fingers, you hear the gushing from your entrance against him as you ride out your orgasm.

Joel lifts you up from his face, moving you back on his stomach, feeling him pant against you. “Fuckin’ hell,” he breathes, licking his lips.

You smile at him, feeling the tent beneath his pants as you roll your hips against him. Joel groans, hips jerking against yours as you take your hands to his shirt, unbuttoning the fabric.

“Ain’t lasting’ long if you tease me darlin’,” he mutters, loosening his own belt buckle.

Suddenly, Joel flips you over, with him now on top of you, he plants a wet kiss against your lips. Standing up, he sheds his remaining layers, as he pulls you by the ankle to the edge of the bed. Sitting up on your elbows, you stare at his large aching cock laying against his stomach, watching as he pumps himself into his hand.

“Spread your legs baby,” Joel requests, standing back as he watches you fall against the bed, pushing your legs apart, exposing your puffy cunt.

“That’s it,” he praises, “wider.”

You listen to him, bending your legs as wide as possible, until your legs are fully apart, your knees touching the plush comforter. You're completely spread open on the sheets, vulnerable and ready for him.

Joel takes his hand and spreads your lips, staring at your sex, “look at that, all this for your old man?” He questions, not waiting for an answer as he runs his tip against your folds, hissing at the feeling of your wetness coating his angry head.

Joel pushes inside of you, your hands flying to his arms in an attempt to stabilize yourself. You’re still not used to his size, even now, as his cock fills you full.

Burying himself to the hilt, he starts a slow, agonizing pace, allowing himself to feel every clench of your walls.

“It’s too big,” you wail, holding him so hard you scratch his tanned skin.

“You can take it darlin’, Joel hums, rubbing circles into your skin, “relax ‘n let daddy take care of you.”

You thrash your head to the side, focusing on his words as he continues to stretch your cunt out.

The pain turns into pleasure as you relax into his touch, “harder,” you moan, pushing your body closer to the edge of the bed.

Joel’s hips halter, stilling his movements at your words. Ripping your eyes open, you make eye contact with the man, who’s already staring back at you, “please daddy ‘m sorry.” You beg, “promise i’ll be good, just need you.”

Joel grabs your leg, holding it up to the ceiling, he pushes it towards your stomach.

At this new angle, Joel thrusts into you hard, snapping his hips into your core as you scream. Each time his cock hits your cervix, you feel the wind get knocked out of you.

“‘S too much,” you babble, clenching the sheets.

Joel tsks, taking the pad of his finger, he begins to circle your clit.

Your words are incoherent, as you're unsure of what you're begging for, as the pleasure builds deep inside your core.

“So pretty like this, drunk off your daddy’s cock,” Joel grunts, continuing to thrust into you.

“I’m close, pl-please let me come,” you beg, as sweat begins to pool at your hairline.

“C’mon baby, come for me.” Joel insists, pushing down against your sensitive clit.

As if Joel pushes a button, you instantly snap, seeing stars as you cum. Throwing your head further into the bed, you allow him to take you, Joel releases inside of you as you wither against him.

Pulling out of your abused cunt, Joel watches as his cum falls from your entrance. Using a finger, he circles the liquid, pushing it back inside of you. You jerk at the feeling, your body so sensitive you clench down on his finger.

Joel hums, brown eyes raking in your state as he removes his finger, kissing your knee.

His thrusting always beginning after an orgasm again, your eyes keep rolling back, your limbs almost feel like they’re numb, and you can’t do much other than to take it.

“Look at this little hole…so full of me.”

His voice hoarse, deep, sending shivers down your spine.

He would pull the hood of your clit, fixating on the most sensitive part of your little nub—rubbing slow, gentle circles. Your legs tired, always locking in, and clenching when you cum, he would let you ride it out—by pulling his cock out, rubbing your sweet nub faster, the white mess just oozing out of your cunny making him coo.

“Sweet stuffed mess.”

Quick breaths leave your lips, the air in the room feeling thick, sweat clinging on your skin. But he would not stop—not after the five orgasms you already had and definitely not when he fucks you to the sixth.

And Joel wouldn’t even know why he feels so feral. Maybe it’s the way you fell asleep with that small, pretty dress of yours. Maybe it’s because your cunt was open for him to see, given that you never wear panties around him.

Small whimpers keep falling from your lips. “Can’t…” over and over again, even if you know that there is no use, as you feel his tip touching your entrance once more.

A hand laying softly against your cheek, stroking away the tears. He would shake his head, murmuring a “Nonsense. I know m’girl.” His thumb softly landing on your clit, starting to circle. “You’re doin’ so well for daddy…squeezing him so tight, yea?”

Of course, he knows he can’t except an answer right now. His sweet girl being so fucked out, that her brain already stopped thinking about anything other than his cock.

And when he fills you up again, you see stars. A ring of sperm forms around his cock when he pulls out and thrusts back in, making him grin. His gaze fixated on your swollen pussy. Red, aching and too sore for your own damn good.

A hiccup leaving your lips. “Daddy…”

“Daddy’s here, angel. Y’gonna cum for me again, aren’t you?” He would ask, oh so sweetly, already feeling your cunt squeezing so tightly around him, and your thighs shaking.

But you can only shake your head, thinking maybe this time it could break you. His thrusts would never speed up, instead, going in a slow, but hard rhythm—always making sure to touch your sweet spot.

And when he pulls the hood of your clit, once again, to rub directly at the little nub, a loud cry would leave your lips.

“Shh, shh you’re okey.” A kiss placed on your forehead, the other hand cupping at your cheek, eyes fixated on on your face. “You’re okey, focus on me.” Drool falling from your chin, tears stained cheeks and red swollen lips—his favourite part whenever he fucks you.

“Feel her already clenching down on me…fuck.” He would whisper, kissing your cheek, your neck, while you would bite your lips harder already tasting blood.

“You’re ready again.”

Shaking your head, hysterically crying out:

“daddydaddydaddy”

“I know, sweet girl.” When he feels your clit pulsing underneath his thumb. And a “There she goes.” when you start cumming unexpectedly—pushing his cock out, a stream of gush leaving your pussy. He would only coo, his finger on your clit speeding up. Your hips bucking as you release gush after gush, soaking his torso and making him smile.

“Let it all out, that’s my goood girl, yea…” his eyes watching you squirt. “My good girl.”

And while you’re still recovering from that orgasm, Joel would just fill you back up again. This time, his body resting on top of you, making you unable to move.

“No, no, no. Please—can’t anymore, daddy.” You would whine, cry, sob and squirm with no success. He would start pounding into you, this time—concentrating on his pleasure.

“Almost there, angel.” Sweetly cooing in your ear. “Gonna fill you one more time, yea? This time it’s gonna take.”

His lips would press against your temple, while speeding up with his thrusts, going harder and sloppier, hushing you softly. You feel your tummy clenching once again, the pleasure in your pussy almost burning.

“Good, goood. Y’gonna soak daddy again, aren’t you?”

You would shake your head.

“Yes, you are. C’mon sweet baby, one last time. Release it all.”

With that your body would completely shake, your breathing stop as waves of your climax go through your body, gushing hard around his cock. Joel would groan into your ear, biting into your shoulder and release all he has left into you. His cock pulsing in your pussy, releasing spurt after spurt into you, filling you once more, to the brim.

“Oh, my poor baby.” As you shake and cry beneath him, while trying to come down from your many, many orgasms.

He would swiftly pull out, a glob of cum leaving your hole landing on the sheets. You release another cry when he plugs you back with his two fingers, fucking his cum slowly back into you.

“Did so, so well for me, angel. This time it has to take, huh? Look at all this cream.” He would whisper, gently thrusting his fingers in and out.

“Gonna keep that all in you yea?”

And a small rub of your clit would take all for you to release once again, this time more softly and quietly, clenching on his fingers slowly. His eyes widening a bit, not expecting it to happen.

“Daddy.” A small whimper. “So sensitive that you came from just a small touch, baby.” He chuckles. He gently pulls his fingers out and gathers you into his arms, “Daddy is here. Daddy is always here, hon.” And after soothing your nerves and calming you down, he would put a pillow under your ass and make you lay there with your hips into the air, whispering sweet nothings into your ear, until you would fall asleep.

This is so filthy wtf someone just take this phone away from me

Your body was draped sensually across the blankets of the bed, laying on your side, showing off the curves of your breasts and hips. You’d been waiting for him, he realized, waiting for him to come home. 

Guilt panged at him at first, but when he truly took in the sight of you in bed, his bed, blood rushed to his cock. His sweet little plaything. Joel was suddenly desperate to give you what you deserved, what you’d earned putting up with his tardiness. 

Silently, he stripped down, leaving his clothes in a pile in the corner of the bedroom. Joel gently moved you to the center of the bed, exposing you to the cold air of early spring. Your nipples perked from the chill, but even as he positioned you on your back, you didn’t stir. 

Joel studied you, memorized you. His cock hardened by the second as he drank in your body.  

Lightly, Joel leaned over you, pressing his lips to the pulse point of your throat. In sleep, your breath caught, and he smirked to himself as he kissed down the column of your neck, leaving light marks of his presence as he descended your body. When he got to the hollow of your throat, he couldn’t help but lick a line back over the faint bruises, pulling a low moan from your lips. Still, your eyes remained closed with sleep. 

Joel kissed a line down your sternum, bringing both hands up to cup your breasts, kneading the delicate flesh. A high pitched gasp escaped you when he pinched your hardened nipples, and he halted movement in case you’d woken up. After a moment, you resumed your even breaths, but your thighs unconsciously began rubbing together, your neglected core in need of affection. 

“Oh, my needy girl,” Joel murmured, pressing a kiss right below your belly button while still cupping your tits delicately. “Achin’ for me even in your sleep…”

Glancing down at your exposed cunt nearly sent him into a frenzy, the hair curling around your sex slick and soft. He resisted the urge to circle your clit, because he knew if he did, it would be a matter of moments before you were arching off the bed in pleasure. For now, he wanted you like this, resting and needy. 

Despite both of your patrol shifts, you’re always able to scratch the itch of apocalypse with sloppy sex before a new day dawns, so Joel took your exhaustion as evidence that you needed the rest.

Joel traced his nose along your folds, parting them, breathing in the sweet scent of your arousal. It nearly made him moan aloud, and he flattened his tongue lazily against you, drawing a whine from your lips. Still, you didn’t wake. 

His groan of satisfaction at the taste of you on his tongue sent vibrations panging through you, and your eyes fluttered in your sleep. He eased his motions, letting himself savor you for as long as he could. Neglecting your clit, he grinned into your cunt as he dragged his tongue up and down, up and down, his cock painfully hard. 

Unconsciously, you shifted your hips, grinding against his dirty mouth blindly. He gripped your hips, pinning you down onto the blankets, throwing subtlety to the wind as he fucked you on his tongue. 

Joel could see your eyes fluttering, chasing a climax in your dreams, but unaware of how close you were in the dark of his bedroom to that edge. He decided to give you a push. 

He plunged two fingers into your cunt at once, sucking at your clit as your eyes flew open and your hands made their way into his hair. 

“Easy, baby, easy,” Joel purred into your cunt. “I gotcha.”

He grinned wickedly against you as a long moan ripped from your lips, your cunt clenching around his calloused fingers. He sucked at your clit, curling his fingers until a shriek left your lips. 

He thrust his hand into you on a mission to draw that sound from you again, to hit that spongy spot inside of you that made you see stars. 

“Joel!” you cried, your back arching against the mattress. 

Again and again, he curled his calloused fingertips against your g-spot, his tongue tracing sinful patterns on your sensitive apex of nerves. His name left your lips in cries of pleasure so loud he worried the neighbors would hear. 

Good, he thought. Let all of Jackson know who’s making you feel this good. 

Pulling his lips from your clit, he brought a hand to the curve of your belly, where he was always delighted to feel his cock bulging from within. 

A scream left you as he pressed down between your hips, driving his fingers relentlessly into your g-spot. You called his name in broken gasps and moans, your hands pulling on his hair by the root. 

Joel couldn’t tear his eyes away from your cunt, how your desire leaked from you in waves as he thrust his hand inside of you. 

“Joel, something’s happening–” You whined, digging your feet into the mattress, spread wide by his broad shoulders. “Joel, I think I’m gonna–”

“Oh, fuck yes,” Joel growled, pushing his hand into the flesh between your hips, pressing down onto your cervix. He squeezed a third finger into your cunt, and tears of pure pleasure spilled over your temples. 

“Oh, I can’t–”

“Yes, you can, and you will,” Joel ordered, pure dominance in his voice. “Come for me, squirt all over my hand–”

“I don’t think–”

“Make a mess, baby–”

“Joel–”

Arched in a perfect bow, and your legs twitching violently over Joel’s shoulders, your orgasm flooded your cunt, splashing onto Joel’s tongue and all over his hand, driving in and out, in and out–

“I know you got more, baby.”

Greed showed in his eyes, and the demand in his tone seemed to pull another wave of slick from you, your screams of pleasure bouncing off the walls of his bedroom. 

“Fuck, yes,” Joel moaned, flipping you over onto your stomach the moment your orgasm quit pulsing. “Gonna feel so good, baby–”

A guttural moan left both of you the moment he shoved his cock into your sensitive cunt, wrapping your hair into a makeshift ponytail as he pulled your chest off of the pillows. 

It was rougher than he’d ever been with you before, somehow knowing you both needed the fire in order to continue sleeping soundly. He tugged on your hair brutally, his cock driving deeper than he’d ever been before. 

“Oh, slap me, please, Joel–” you groaned, back arched as you propped yourself on all fours. 

Joel smirked hazily, lost in the warmth of your cunt. “You know what to say, baby.”

The wickedness of his tone had your walls tightening around him again, your voice going higher as he pushed into you.

“Oh, god, Joel–”

Joel tugged on your hair again, speeding up his thrusts and bringing his lips to your ear. “Wrong.”

“Please–”

“Sweet, but no.”

A dam broke as he plunged his cock deeper and deeper, driving the begging from you. "Daddy, please! Oh, daddy, please, I need it. I want you to slap me so hard I can’t sit down for a week, please. I can’t think of anything else, daddy.”

Joel let out a dangerous chuckle. “Good fuckin’ girl.”

His palm cracked against your ass with a punishing force, making you squeal. His cock split you open, each thrust becoming harder as you both approached your climaxes. 

“Love me bein’ rough with you, huh? Treatin’ you like a little slut? I know you were waitin’ on me, so needy that you couldn’t even go to sleep without havin’ my cock in your cunt.”

He spanked you, again and again, your cunt tightening on each impact, your moans becoming more high pitched as he pounded your cunt with more and more vigor. 

“Yes, daddy, yes, daddy, oh, god–” you cried. 

“Oh, my poor baby needs to come so badly she can’t even talk, is that it? Oh, baby, come for daddy. I’ll take care of you.”

With one more brutal spank, and a deep thrust into your cunt, you pulsed in time with one another, warmth blooming in your cervix as he came with a deep groan.

Panting, he laid you out on your back again, your eyes already becoming droopy as sleep crept up on you again. After a quick trip to the bathroom, you winced slightly as he patted your sore cunt with a damp cloth, but smiled in your haziness as he curled you into his chest. “Go back to bed, baby. I’ll see you in the mornin’."

Your bedroom door clicks as Joel unlocks it from the other side, and the hinges groan and creak as he pushes it open. He looks at your figure lying in your bed, warm sunlight painting over your skin. Joel knows you’re not sleeping. You’re just lying in the quiet room, soaking up the sun like a kitten. 

“Hi, kiddo,” Joel greets softly, smiling before taking long strides across the room to meet you. He’s stepping over your clothes and tripping on other odds and ends before he reaches you - you’ve been picking out your own clothes lately. Apparently you’ve been less than impressed with Joel’s sense of fashion. Ooohkay, he thought. You’re such a messy girl with the way you try on all of your clothes, then leave them all on the floor. Those, coupled with old, expired bottles of nail polish and lip gloss. Joel told you not to use those lip glosses, but they’re just pretty to look at sometimes. 

“Jesus, girl. Fuckin’ room’s a pigsty,” he says, and he sits on the end of your bed, springs creaking with the shift in weight. 

You ignore him. Joel leans over and kisses both of your cheeks and then your forehead, then your nose. “Don’t smile,” he teases, “Don’t you dare laugh.” And he repeats this, his facial hair tickling your skin, until you’re giggling and your eyes finally open. 

“Ohh, there she is. Mornin’, Pumpkin,” Joel says, chuckling at the way you squint through the bright sunlight. 

“Mmm…morning, D–” you’re interrupted by your own yawn, which makes Joel laugh. “Daddy.” 

Joel pushes some hair out of your eyes. “Lazy ass,” he mumbles. “Listen, kiddo. M’on patrol today, so you’re gonna be home all alone. Y’gonna be alright?” he asks, softly stroking the skin on your cheek. “Gonna be a good girl?” 

He wonders if he can trust you. If he can give you this inch, and you won’t take a mile. The doors and windows will stay locked, of course, but there’s other things he worries about. Joel knows you, you know. You’re never as sneaky as you think you are. 

“Mhm. I’m always good, Daddy.” 

Joel rolls his eyes. “Uh huh, fuckin’ smartass. You can make eggs an’ toast for breakfast, and there’s leftovers in the fridge for lunch. We’ll figure out supper later, hm? Maybe we’ll go to the cafeteria. See what they’re cookin’ up.” 

“Yeah, that sounds good,” you smile. 

“Good.” Joel pats his thighs and then stands up, knees popping loudly. “And I want you to clean all this shit up, alright? Didn’t raise ya to leave messes.” 

You sigh heavily. “I know. I’ll do it.” 

“Good girl.” Joel bends down and kisses your head one last time. “Eat all your lunch an’ have a good day. I love ya.”

You love days where you’re home alone. You used to hate it, and Joel wouldn’t let it happen a whole lot. You hated how lonely it felt, how quiet. You’d hear things go bump that weren’t there, and you’d feel just…nervous. Joel came home once and found you all scared and trembling, and he promised he’d be home with you as much as he could. 

He made good on his promise. And you liked being home with him until you didn’t, until you found it suffocating and boring. Scary. Joel’s house went from being a quiet safe haven away from the horrors of the world to a sort of horror in and of itself. A Sisyphean loop, where nothing ever changes. And it never will, no matter how much you tug on your windows that are bolted shut, or yank on your door that only Joel can unlock. You can never leave. 

You’d stare longingly out the window, hoping to go outside on your own. Just once, maybe. To go in the woods and wander, pick at strange flowers and plants and everything else. Just be alone. Joel grants you so much, and yet, you want so much more than that.

It makes you feel bad, if you’re being honest with yourself. You know what’s out there. What he saved you from. You know you’re safer with Joel, and you know everything he’s done to keep you safe and comfortable and happy. You’re in good hands with him, even if they’re hands that hurt you sometimes. Hit you. Spank you. Choke you. They’re still Joel’s hands, and they’re warm, right? And they love you. 

He said when the weather warms up some more he’ll take you to the lake. You really hope he does. 

You spend the day reading, drawing, watching birds and other critters that come by. Joel thinks it’s cute, the way you’ve named the chipmunks and squirrels that frequent his patio. How you recognize them like they’re your friends. 

Joel tries to leave his bad mood away from home. He knows he’s got a habit of carrying it with him, and regrettably, taking it out on you. You take your moods out on him too, though. Not that it matters. He curses himself for even acknowledging the fact. He’s older, he’s wiser, he’s more patient. You’re not. He’s the parent, you’re the child. But when he comes home, you can tell it was a bad day. You can hear it in his footsteps and in the way he breathes, and it makes you tense. “Y’ready for dinner?” he asks, voice tired. 

“Mhm.” 

“Didn’t hear ya, kiddo. Speak up.” 

“Mhm.” 

“No, no mumblin’. Use your words and tell me, yes or no,” Joel demands, feeling his blood pressure begin to spike. 

“Yes.” 

Oh, you fucking…you. You’re always going to match Joel’s temper. You stare at him and he glares back, balling his fists before turning on his heel to get changed. You both need something to eat, before this goes from zero to one hundred. 

But then Joel goes upstairs, and he walks past your bedroom and sees that nothing - nothing is picked up. He’s back downstairs before he even thinks it through. Before he showers and takes a moment to breathe, even. 

“What’d I fuckin’ tell you?” 

Your stomach drops at his tone. “What?”

“I asked ya to take care of your room, and I come home to see you’ve done fuck all.” 

“I guess I just forgot, Daddy. I’ll do it tomorrow.”

Joel scoffs, “Yeah, uh huh.” He pauses for a moment, then puts his hands on his hips. “We talked about this, Pumpkin.” 

“Talked about what?” you ask, and it makes Joel fucking irate that you won’t turn your head to look at him. 

“Look at me when you’re speakin’ t’me,” he barks, startling you. Looking at him from across the room, you can see he means business. Joel’s eyes are already dark to begin with, but they’ve gone black - so depthless and so endless that you can’t tell what’s behind them. 

“You’ve been slackin’,” Joel says in a low tone, breathing heavily as he takes heavy steps toward you. “S’gettin’ old, kid.” 

“I know, I just–”

“Jus’ what?”

You pick at your chipping, poorly-applied nail polish as you roll the answer around in your mind. “I don’t really want to do chores. I mean, I know my room is…but the other stuff, I–” 

“Tough. You live under my roof, y’live under my rules.”

“Then it’s your roof, your mess.” 

The words come out before you can even think about them. You press your lips together immediately, shrinking in your seat a little at the way Joel cocks his eyebrow and puts his hands on his hips. “Wanna try that again?” he asks, and you know what this is, what it is he’s doing: he’s giving you an out. And it’s awfully generous of him, considering. “Don’t make this a bad night,” he warns.

You pause this time, thinking about what you want to say next. I’m sorry, Daddy is that fucking close to rolling off of your lips when you notice that little wren sitting on the windowsill. She’s a frequent visitor, and Joel says she’s just like you. Fiery, assertive, sometimes. Vocal. A pistol. 

She looks at you for a minute, then flies off. It sends a pang of longing through your heart, and perhaps even jealousy that that beautiful little bird can spread her wings and fly away and you…can’t. Not with the locked doors and windows, not while eternally existing under Joel’s fucking microscope.

“I didn’t ask to live here, Joel,” you bite. 

“Oh, s’that’s how we’re doin’ this? This is how tonight’s gonna go?” 

“Yeah.” You get up from your place on the couch and shove into Joel’s shoulder, but he shoves you right back down. He glares at you, and you glare back as hard as you fucking can. Staring at him like you wish you could fucking…you don’t even know. You’re blinded by the same rage and upset that Joel is at this moment, but without the agency to do one fucking thing about it. Joel, on the other hand. 

He takes your jaw in his hand, squeezing your bones tight enough to bruise the soft flesh that covers them. When you jerk your head away, he squeezes tighter. “You don’t get to walk away from me,” he growls, leaning in close enough that you can feel his hot breath on your face. “I do a lot for ya. Done a lot for ya,” he says in a low tone.

“You never let me leave,” you argue. “You trap me.” 

That gets Joel, wounds him a little. His face changes when you say that, before twisting back into something darker. “That’s what you think, huh? That I trap ya?”

You swallow thickly, then part your lips to speak. Joel cuts you off with a wave of his hand. “I keep you safe,” Joel whispers. “Fed. Happy. An’ all I ask is that you follow a few simple rules. That’s all. You wanna go back out there on your own, with the fuckin’ raiders and clickers, I can make that happen. Watch.”

Joel’s jaw ticks as he glares at you, fuming at the indignant little look on your fucking face. He could hit you right now, right across your cheek. Or maybe he’ll bend you over his knee and beat you until your ass is fucking raw and bleeding. That’ll teach you, that’ll fuckin’ teach you…

The anger flows through his veins like a fucking poison, and only when one of Joel’s knuckles crack, startling him, does he let your face go. He didn’t realize he was holding you so hard.

“I don’t like you,” you whisper. 

Joel makes a face at the statement, then nods, because he’s heard it all before. It hurt the worst the first time you said it, but you came back to him crying, hours later when you’d had a nightmare and needed him. Not want - that wasn’t the word you picked. You said you needed him, Daddy, and you were so sorry. You didn’t mean it. You love him and you need him. 

He clicks his tongue against his teeth. “M’not too keen on you either, right now, Pumpkin.”    

The room is tense as you and Joel stare each other down, and neither of you budge until Joel tells you to go to your room and stay there. He tells you that you can forget going out to dinner, and you can stay in your bedroom until he feels like looking at your face again. You’re grounded, too - he doesn’t say from what. Now get out of his sight before he fucking hurts you.

You’re in your room forever, the hours alone spent alone passing like days. The sun went down forever ago, and you can’t stop yourself from crying. You held it together long enough downstairs while fighting with Joel but the moment you stepped foot into your room, you burst like a dam. 

And it sucks to cry alone, to not have Joel there to hold you and wipe your tears. But is that what you’d want? Is that what would make it all better? Maybe. Joel has a special way of being your heaven and hell, all in one man. He’s both your nightmare and your solace after a bad dream. What are you supposed to make of that? What are you supposed to do other than cry like this?

You don’t bother wiping your tears when there’s a double knock at the door. “S’me,” Joel says. “M’comin’ in.” 

You keep your back turned to him as he enters your bedroom with a plate and a glass of water, and he sets both down on your nightstand. “Went and grabbed some food. I gotcha…let’s see here. Chicken, mashed potatoes, corn.” 

“Not hungry.” 

“Not even for some pumpkin pie?” Joel asks, noticing the way your eyes widen at the mention. “Still your favorite, right?”

You pause. “No,” you answer, eventually.

“No?” Joel asks. “Hmm. Guess I’ll eat it myself. M’gonna get even fatter than I already am…this is a very unhealthy thing to do to your dear old man, y’know,” Joel says, cutting into the pie with the side of his fork, which scrapes against the ceramic plate. You flip over and sit up, and Joel feeds you the bite instead of eating it himself. “There she is,” he murmurs. 

That’s how you got the nickname. Joel asked your name many times back in that cold, shitty cabin. You wouldn’t tell him. He understood, of course, and he told you his name anyway. You were always such a stubborn girl. For the life of him, Joel could not figure out why you wouldn’t come back to Jackson with him, why the hell you were so apprehensive about trusting him. Most people jump at the opportunity to stay in the cozy, warm settlement but…not you. 

You were a tough nut to crack. It took a lot of time for you to trust Joel. He used to sit in that cabin with you while on his patrols - Tommy would show up sometimes, too. He’d just sit with you, talk a little, the way you’d do with a stray dog in a shelter. He’d bring you warm thermoses full of soup or tea and sandwiches for you to eat, and he was just patient.

And it was pumpkin pie that finally got you to come home with him. He brought you a slice one day, and you scarfed it down quickly and asked if he had more. “Nope,” he answered. “Gotta come back to Jackson f’ya want more. Got all the pumpkin pie you could eat.”

You mulled it over in your mind more than you ever had. And this was after weeks of Joel visiting you, bringing you food, sometimes dry wood to keep your fireplace warm. You didn’t trust him yet, but you didn’t…not trust him. And you really wanted that fucking pie. 

It was your choice to live with Joel, too. When he brought you back, they offered to put you in a house with other girls around your age. Nope. You wanted to be with Joel. Somewhere deep down, you know you picked him to be yours before he picked you to be his. Doesn’t that make you a little responsible for where you are now? 

“Yeah, alright, Pumpkin. I guess I could make some room for ya,” he winked.

“Breakin’ rules here,” Joel murmurs. “It goes dinner first, then dessert. Right?”

You ignore him as you swallow your bite. He’s only teasing. And besides, this is not a battle he wants to fight. At least you’re eating, anyway. Joel puts his hand on your knee and speaks softly, “I shouldn’t have gotten on your ass the way I did.” 

“No. You shouldn’t have,” you snap, and Joel feeds you another bite of pie. You take the fork and eat the rest of the slice quickly, then lay back down and flip over.    

His poor, sweet, tender-hearted girl. Don’t you know that attitude of yours is only gonna get you in trouble? Joel thinks it's just where you’re at in life - he thought he knew the world like the back of his hand when he was your age, too. 

Joel turns your face and wipes your tear-stained cheeks, all swollen and raw. Eyes rimmed red as more tears well up, then spill down, back into your hairline. “Oh, sweetheart. What am I gonna do with ya?” he sighs, gently thumbing away those tears again. He wipes a few crumbs of pie crust from your lips, too.

You sniffle and shrug, avoiding his gaze. A hiccuping sob escapes your lips. “S'okay. Drink some water,” Joel tells you, pulling you upright. He gives you the glass, has you take a few sips, and he notices the way you look at his hand between your thighs. He notices your muscles twitching, eyes widening…knows exactly what you want as he rubs his thumb over the skin. Joel knows you want him to fuck you, to make you feel good, because you always feel better after he gets you off. Presses your little reset button. He’d reckon those pretty pink panties of yours are a little soaked, too. Poor thing. And isn’t this part of tonight’s problem? 

You can’t get anything past Joel. You’ll never be able to. 

“Daddy–”

“Not tonight, kiddo. Y’lost them privileges.” 

“Please,” you beg. Joel takes your glass of water and sets it down on the nightstand. 

“No,” Joel bites, pulling his hand away. He pulls your blankets over your shoulders, then turns off your lamp. “Daddy’s gonna have to think of a way for you to earn ‘em back.” He kisses you on the forehead, saddened by the way you turn away from him. “I love ya with my whole heart, Pumpkin, but you are gonna learn that there are consequences for your actions. Now get some sleep.”

Joel takes the glasses and checks to make sure the baby monitor is on, then leaves you. A night of sleep will be good for you both. 

But it is a hard night, isn’t it? You spend the night tossing and turning - Joel can hear it on the tinny, crackling speakers of the receiver. He doesn’t rest any easier either, so he gets in the shower late at night. Maybe the distant noise of the running water will soothe you to sleep. 

He washes his hair and his body, then grips his cock tightly in his fist. He strokes himself slowly, top to bottom and over and over again, building to a quicker pace in short time. “Ohh, Pumpkin,” he whispers, cumming over his knuckles. Joel rinses himself off and dries himself, then checks on you in your bedroom - you’re out like a light. Good. Fuck, he hates fighting with you. 

In the morning, you tiptoe down the stairs, stopping first behind the wall to steal a peek at Joel before he sees you. He’s got breakfast made already - French toast, eggs, hash browns. You take your place at the table, yawning as you twirl a fork between your fingers. “Mornin’, sweetheart,” Joel murmurs, pressing a kiss against the crown of your head. He serves you a large helping of breakfast, your Felix the cat cup is already filled with juice. “Sleep okay?” he asks, sitting next to you and serving himself. 

You shrug. 

“Yeah, me too,” Joel agrees. You and he eat in silence for a couple of minutes, the only sounds being the chirping birds and the cutlery scraping against the plates. Joel finishes his food before you do, and when he does, he gets up from the table. You watch him set his dish by the sink, then grab a couple of papers or something from the counter and bring them back to the table. “Been thinkin’ about how you can earn back your privileges,” Joel begins. Your attention is immediately caught by a few shiny, sparkly papers, decorated in little stars. “Stickers,” Joel explains, peeling one off and sticking it on your nose. “See?”

“Mhm.” You grab the packs of stickers, but Joel tugs them back. 

“Ah, ah, ah. Can’t have those yet. You gotta earn ‘em.” Joel shows you a larger paper next, something he made and drew up himself. ‘Pumpkin’s Honey-Do List’.

“What’s honey-do?”

“S’a chore chart,” Joel explains. “Honey, do this for me. Honey, do that. Get it?” You nod. “We’re gonna use this chart to keep track of your chores, okay?” 

Before you answer, you take some time to look over the chores Joel wants you to do. Sunday through Saturday Joel wants you to tidy your room every day. “Every day?” you whine, thinking of the enormous mess sitting in there right now. It’s gonna take for fucking ever to deal with all of that.

“Every day,” Joel answers. “F’ya stay on top of it, it’s not much of an issue. Been tryin’ to tell ya that, Pumpkin.” 

The rest of the daily chores listed are no surprise. Do the dishes, set the table, make the bed, sweep. But there’s some new ones at the bottom of the chart - dust all the shelves and baseboards, wash the windows, mop. Joel explains that they only have to be done once at some point this week. 

“You’re gonna work on these every day,” Joel says. “And I’m gonna check to make sure you did ‘em all, and if you did, you get to put a sticker down. And if we fill this sheet up by the end of the week, I’ll make ya feel good again. That’s how you can earn back your privileges.”

You think about it, looking over the chore chart. Joel’s all capital letter handwriting, and the silly pumpkins he drew at the top of the chart. “Hey, you,” Joel taps your arm. “We square?”

You still don’t know. You don’t know why you’re hesitant. You’re just…that’s just who you are. Stubborn, indignant. A rebel with a heart of gold. 

“Psst. Take the fuckin’ deal, kiddo.” 

“Okay, Daddy.” 

Joel holds out his fist, pinky finger extended. You wrap your pinky around his, and then he brings both his and your hands to his lips and kisses your knuckle.  

You get started after breakfast, cleaning up your room while Joel takes care of some other stuff around the house. It’s not so bad when you have a goal in mind and a better attitude about the entire thing. It goes by quickly, too, and you feel better when your room is put back together. You don’t know why you let it get so bad. Maybe it’s reflective of your mood. 

Dishes come next, and it’s made easier because Joel cleans as he cooks. It’s just a matter of washing and drying a few plates and forks and glasses, then putting them back into the cabinets. Sweeping comes after that, and then you’re done until dinner tonight when Joel needs the table set. 

It is nice to walk through the house with him as he inspects your work. The concentrated frown on his face as he looks in your closet at all your clothes all hung up and folded neat, and the way it splits into a smile of approval. “Y’did good, kiddo,” he murmurs as he kisses your head. It takes you a moment to decide how exactly you want to place the stickers down, but you like doing it. It’s going to look so pretty when it’s filled in. 

Tomorrow is the same, and the next day, and the next day. Joel does his walk throughs every evening, and then you do your stickers at the table. “Mm, doin’ some neat patterns there, I see,” Joel says gently. 

“Mhm.”

“Very pretty, sweetheart. I’m so proud’a ya,” he smiles. “Couple more days, right? Finish strong.” 

When you wake up on Friday, you feel excited. There’s really not much in your room to clean, not much to sweep around the house, not much of anything to do, really. 

…Until Joel reminds you about the specials. “Ahem,” Joel says, pointing to the chores at the bottom of the chart. “These need’a get done, too.” 

“Oh, fuck.” You cover your mouth before Joel has a chance to scold you. “Sorry.” 

He makes a face at you, but he lets it go. If letting a dirty word slip is the worst thing you’ve done all week, then so be it. You probably picked it up from him, after all. 

Joel quickly makes you a sandwich at the counter, then slices it in half and puts it in the fridge. That’ll be your lunch later. “Uncle Tommy’s coming by today,” Joel says. “But don’t think you can sweet talk him into helpin’ you with those chores, Pumpkin. This is still a punishment.” 

“Mhm. I know, Daddy.” 

“Good girl.” Joel kisses you quickly on the cheek, then he’s out the door. “I love ya. Be home later.” 

When Joel leaves, you go upstairs and shower, then pick out something to wear - just a pair of shorts and a tee, neither of which you particularly like, but that’s okay. You don’t want to dirty your favorite clothes. After checking your list, you get started with dusting first. You’ll work top to bottom, and then do the windows at the very end, per Joel’s suggestion. 

Dusting is tedious. It’s tedious to take every little knickknack and tchotchke off the shelves, but you do like the way the wood sparkles after you wipe it clean. And it feels better, too. There’s a noticeable difference when you clean the place, like you’re washing away everything bad that’s built up over time and starting anew. 

You pause cleaning briefly to eat the sandwich Joel made you, and then you’re back to cleaning, on your hands and knees as you wipe the baseboards. You still have some tall cabinets and shelves to dust, but you’ll figure that out later. 

The back door opening startles you, and in comes Tommy, handsome as ever and smiling so big when he sees you. “Hiya, sweetheart.” 

“Hi, Uncle Tommy,” you greet. You feel Tommy’s eyes on you as you dust, tracing over every inch of your figure. It’s awkward as you clean and Tommy stands there. You’re not exactly sure what he was sent here to do. Maybe he’s your babysitter or something. 

He peruses the house, and you wonder what he’s thinking. You have a more difficult time reading him than you do Joel, though that doesn’t mean Joel is always easy to read, either. Tommy notices your chore chart and smirks at it. Good fucking god. 

Baseboards are done now, so it’s time to finish those cabinets. You drag a chair over to the kitchen counters, but even with the added height, you can’t reach the tops. “Uncle Tommy?” you ask. 

“Yeah, honey.” 

“Do you know if Joel has a step stool or something around here?” 

Tommy holds up a finger before he’s off to check for you. There’s nothing in the closet, nothing in the garage, either. “Don’t think so, sweetheart.” 

“Hmm…” 

“Whatcha thinkin’?”

Joel would throttle you if he knew what you were about to do, but he’s the one who didn’t account for your inability to reach the tops of the cabinets he wants cleaned. You hoist yourself up onto the counter top with a rag in hand, wobbling as you stand up tall. 

“Woah, woah, woah. Let me use the chair an’ I’ll get ‘em myself, darlin’,” Tommy says as he stands behind you, his fingers tapping against your legs as he gets ready to catch you. He gets a nice look up your shorts from this angle, too, llikes the lace on your panties. “Gonna crack your goddamn skull open, girl.” 

“You’re not supposed to help me,” you tell him, frowning at how disgusting the tops of these cabinets are. “Ew.” 

“Says who?”

“Daddy,” you answer. 

“Ohhh. Daddy says so, huh?”

You sigh, “Yep.”

Tommy rolls his eyes. “Get down, honey. I don’t like ya up there like that.”

You know better than to argue with Uncle Tommy. He’s fun, sure. But he does have the authority to do whatever Joel does to you, too. Joel’s made it clear that when Tommy’s around, you are to listen and obey him the same as you listen to Joel himself. You turn around and bend down slowly, feeling nervous and unstable on your feet. “C’mere, sweet pea. I gotcha.” Tommy grabs your waist and steadies you, grunting as he helps you down. 

“Can’t believe your old man’s gotcha doin’ all these chores without any music,” Tommy says. You shrug, and Tommy’s off toward the living room where Joel’s got a turntable and some vinyls. He puts them on every once in a while, but you’re not always into the music he picks. 

Tommy puts on Jim Croce and does a little dance that makes you giggle. He wiggles his hips and snaps his fingers, biting down on his bottom lip. “Alright,” Tommy claps his hands together. “Let’s get to work.” 

He takes the rag from your hand and stands on the chair, dusting the tops of the cabinets himself. “I appreciate this, Uncle Tommy, but you really shouldn’t…if Joel finds out–”

“You gonna tell on me, sweetheart?”

“N-no…” you mumble, shifting your weight from one foot to the other. 

“Then your daddy won’t find out,” Tommy replies. 

He finishes the cabinets quickly, then gets off of his chair with a grunt. “Okay, darlin’. What else ya gotta do?”

“Uhmmm…” you trail off, mentally tallying the chores you’ve already done. With Tommy’s help, you’re just about finished. “Windows are last,” you tell him. 

Tommy nods. He grabs a spray bottle from a closet as well as two squeegees, then hands you one. “You wanna do the outsides or the insides, sweetheart?” 

“Insides,” you answer. “I’m not supposed to go outside without Joel.” 

Tommy makes a real show of looking around, raising his eyebrows and squinting dramatically. “Funny, darlin’, I don’t see Joel anywhere,” he says, then pauses. “Why don’tcha wash the outsides and get some fresh air, honey?”

“Okay,” you smile. Tommy gives you the spray, then opens the door and tells you to meet him at the kitchen window. You feel exhilarated as you leave and round the house, loving the sun on your skin and the breeze in your hair. When you meet him on the other side of the window, he motions for you to spray yours down, which you do. Then Tommy opens the window and reaches for the spray, then shuts the window. You flinch when he squirts it at you, and laugh when it hits the glass and not yourself. Tommy winks, then squeegees his side of the window as you do the same. 

He nods his head to motion to you to go to the next window, where you and he repeat the routine. You do the same with the next one and the one after that, and when you’re finished, you come back inside and rest on the couch. 

“Think that means we’re ‘bout done, huh?”

“Yep,” you answer, then pause. “You won’t tell Joel, right?”

Tommy sits next to you and zips his lips. “M’not a narc, honey. So we get to put stickers on your chart now, don’t we?”

You shake your head. “Nope. Joel has to do a walk through,” you explain. 

“Ahhhh,” Tommy nods, understanding. “So whatcha gettin’ for fillin’ in all the stickers?”

Your cheeks heat up at the question and you shy away from Tommy, which makes him laugh. You have no poker face at all. 

“Uh huh,” Tommy winks. “Oh, I get it.”

You squirm in place a little, wondering if you should talk more about it. You kind of want to, honestly. Joel tells you that you can tell him anything, but you know you can’t. Not just anything. “It’s been a week,” you admit finally to Tommy, and immediately you feel relieved to have someone else to talk to about this. About Joel. “Well, almost. Tomorrow makes a week.” 

Tommy scoffs. “Well shit, kiddo. Your old man’s a fuckin’ hard ass.” You shrug silently, and Tommy raises an eyebrow at you. “You can agree, y’know. Ain’t gonna hurt. An’ I won’t tell him if ya do, either.” 

“A little,” you admit, quietly. But Tommy hears, and he smiles. 

“Can’t go a day without it, myself,” Tommy tells you, stretching out on the couch a little. He rests his hand on your thigh, drawing little patterns down to your knee and back up again, patterns that make your skin tingle and make you feel funny inside. Nervous, excited…in almost the same way Joel makes you feel nervous and excited. But there’s an added layer here. You know you shouldn’t be letting Tommy do this to you.

“I think you should reward yourself, ‘f I’m bein’ honest. You did all your chores, after all. Right?” 

“...yeah.” Uncle Tommy has a funny way of making the guilt in your belly disappear, if not for just a moment. It’s in the way he speaks and the words he chooses, and it’s in his sparkling brown eyes and his charming smile.  

“Why don’tcha go to your room and take care of yourself, then? Hm?”

You shake your head. “Joel - Daddy says I’m not allowed to,” you reply. 

“Ohh. Not allowed to do it by yourself.” Tommy clicks his tongue and turns his head toward you. “S’too goddamn bad. Joel’s gotcha on a short fuckin’ leash, don’t he?”

He slides his hand up your thigh, inching his pinky finger past your shorts. Tommy likes the way your breath hitches in your throat when he traces the thin, damp fabric of your panties with just his fingertip. Sensitive fuckin’ girl.

“And you’re really hurtin’ for it too, I can tell. A fuckin’ week, good lord,” Tommy whispers, then pauses before speaking again. “Well, I’d reckon you’re not doin’ nothin’ wrong by lettin’ Uncle Tommy make ya cum, huh?” 

“I-” you stutter, “I really - I don’t know, Uncle Tommy.”

Tommy grins, his eyes so warm and so black, so endless. “Oh, sweetheart. Ain’t nothin’ wrong with it in my book.” He wriggles his fingers up your shorts a little more, and slips them past your panties. That little gasp when he touches your lip, lightly teasing you there. Good lord. 

“Then s’gonna be our little secret,” Tommy whispers. “Somethin’ special, jus’ for me and my sweet girl,” he says. “How ‘bout that, darlin’?”

You nod before the little voice in your head telling you not to do this becomes too loud. You can trust Tommy, right? He wouldn’t do anything to get you into trouble with Joel. And like he always says, what Joel doesn’t know won’t kill him. 

You can’t ever pull one over on Joel, but you can try. And if Tommy’s right, and he probably is - you’ll succeed.  

“Good girl,” says Tommy, pulling your body into his lap. He unbuttons your shorts and pushes them down your legs, then cups your pussy with his large hand. You sigh at the relief that comes with the pressure, resting against Tommy’s chest. “C’mere, honey. I gotcha.” 

You spread your legs for him and he rubs you through your panties, just lazily at first, feeling you dampen the fabric. He traces your clit next, “Oh, fuck,” you moan, leaning into him. “More,” you gasp. 

Tommy slides his hand under your panties, touching your bare heat. You’re so fucking warm and so fucking wet, with that pool of arousal he’s created. And it didn’t take much, did it? No, no. Of course not, not when you’ve been starving for it for so long. Longer than a week, too. Tommy knows the way you look at him and what goes on in that head of yours. And if he were a betting man, he’d bet that when you do summon the courage to get yourself off on your own fingers, despite Joel’s rule, that you’re thinking of him. Maybe not every time, but enough.  

“Uncle Tommy,” you moan, eyes squeezing shut as you arch into his touch. You rock your hips as he circles your clit, reaching for his thick bicep. You hold him tightly, whimpering, “Oh my god.”

“Y’wanna hold onto me?” Tommy chuckles quietly, rubbing you slowly. “You can hold onto me, sweet pea. M’not goin’ nowhere. Jus’ you and me right now, sweet girl.” 

He’s so warm, and he smells so fucking good. It’s nice to be in a pair of arms that are safe and dangerous, but different from Joel’s safe and dangerous. You watch yourself in the freshly cleaned windows, all wrecked as Tommy pleasures you. 

He’s sliding his fingers down your seam next, then pushing two into your entrance. And it’s when he curls them rhythmically, looking for that special, sweet little place deep inside you, that you really start to moan. “Relax,” Tommy whispers, squeezing you tightly. “Hold still, honey. Be good.” 

Tommy shifts the positions a bit so he can rub your clit with his other hand while fucking you on his fingers. It’s not long before release is right around the corner, with all of that hot, sparkling pleasure blooming deep in your gut. Your thighs begin to shake and twitch, “You cum nice for me now,” he whispers. “Show Uncle Tommy how hard you can cum.” 

And that’s all it takes for you to fall apart, crying out loudly as he fucks you through your orgasm. Tommy doesn’t let up until you’re a shuddering, gasping mess, until he’s made certain that your needs have been met. A goddamn week, he thinks. That’s fucking ridiculous.

“You cum so pretty, sweetheart,” Tommy whispers, pulling his fingers away from your cunt. They’re all shiny and drenched in your arousal, and he brings them to his lips and sucks them clean. He pats you twice and you get up and off of him, all shy and bashful as he stands up and stretches, his rock-hard erection bulging through his denim. “Fuck, look whatcha do t’me,” he groans, pressing his palm against it. “I’m off, kiddo. Gonna let me leave without a hug and a kiss?” he asks. 

You wrap your arms around his thick middle quickly, perhaps needing the hug more than Tommy even does. You kiss his cheek, and Tommy squeezes your ass. “Alright. Keep outta trouble, honey. I’ll see ya when I see ya.”

A few hours later, Joel’s barely got a foot in the door before you’re taking him by the hand and leading him through the house, showing him how well you cleaned everything. “Jesus, girl. Can’t a man eat dinner first?” 

“No,” you answer. “Look at the windows.”

Joel laughs, “I know, I see ‘em, Pumpkin. They’re sparklin’.” 

“And the baseboards–”

“Are nice and dusted, I see it all, sweetheart. You did good. Wanna go get your stickers?” 

You show Joel that you’ve already got your stickers and your chart in hand. “Go ‘head and put ‘em on then, honey. Y’did good,” Joel says, then pauses as you put the rest of the stickers down. The only one that’s missing is dishes and table setting for today, but that’s because it hasn’t been done yet. Joel tells you he trusts you, and you can put the stickers down anyway. “And you did do it all by yourself, right, Pumpkin?” 

“Mhm,” you lie. 

“An’ if I ask Uncle Tommy if he helped, what’s he gonna tell me?”

“No,” you lie again. 

“Good answer,” Joel replies, then pauses. “Did you play with yourself this week?” he asks.

“No.” 

“Promise?” Joel asks. “Did anyone else play with ya?”

“Nope,” you tell him. Joel smiles, then kisses you on the head and sits down on the couch as you admire your chart. You join him on the couch, sliding onto his lap instead of taking your usual place right next to him.

“Hey, you,” Joel smiles. “What’re you makin’ me for dinner, hm?”

You shrug. “I’m not even hungry,” you tell Joel, and he makes a face. 

“Sure you’re not.” 

You think you know what that means, what he’s doing. He’s deliberately quiet, waiting for you to ask for what you want. But you say nothing as you sit on his lap, eyes wide as you wait and wait and wait for what you’ve earned, squirming on his lap a little. “Whatcha so squirrely for?” he asks finally. 

“You know, Daddy.” 

“Mmm. Don’t think I do,” Joel drawls. “M’not a mind reader, Pumpkin.” 

But you’re too shy to say it out loud. So you take Joel’s hand and stand up, yanking him with you. He groans as he stands up, knees cracking. You hold his hand as you lead him toward the stairwell, “Where ya takin’ me?” he asks. 

“Mmmuhno,” you mumble, walking up the stairs with Joel trailing behind. 

“You dunno, huh?” he teases, amused as you take him towards his room. “Mmm, Daddy’s room. Okay,” he sighs dramatically. “Guess it’s bedtime, since Pumpkin says so. And I was gonna let ya stay up an’ everything, but alright.” 

You’re such a quiet, shy girl as you sit on the end of Joel’s bed, swinging your feet as he undresses himself. You pull at a string on your shorts, waiting for Joel to get the hint. You’re sure he does, but he’s just dragging this out, the same way you are, really. 

Joel, standing naked except for his boxers, turns to you. “Y’look like you’ve got somethin’ on your mind, sweetheart.” 

“Mm-mm,” you lie, unable to hide the smile that makes your lips curl up. 

“Oh, I think ya do. Wanna tell me what it is?” Joel asks. 

Finally, you relent. “Did I earn back my privileges?” you ask, biting down on your smile. 

Joel chuckles. “Was wonderin’ when you’d ask,” he says, leaning in close. He puts both of his hands on your knees, squeezing you there. “Yes. You earned ‘em back, Pumpkin.” 

You hum in delight and smile so big, then whisper something in Joel’s ear. “Well lie on down, then,” Joel murmurs. “You know what to do.” 

It takes no time at all for you to take off your clothes and lie on Joel’s bed completely naked, legs folded in half and swaying side to side as you wait for that inevitable dip in the mattress that comes from Joel settling between your thighs. It arrives all in good time, and Joel spreads you wide so he can devour you alive. 

He pushes your knees toward your chest and wears a crooked smirk at how anxious you look, ready for him to start. You’re wiggling your fingers, fidgeting with his comforter. Joel teases you with a couple of kisses pressed against your knees and your inner thighs. “Daddy,” you whine, pushing your hips toward his face. 

“Oh, I know, I know,” Joel murmurs, quieting your whines with a kiss to your pussy. “Iiii know, sweet baby girl.” He licks you from bottom to top with his tongue flattened, dragging it slowly through your slick folds. And Christ, how swollen you are - poor thing. But you did it to yourself, didn’t you?

“I am so–” Joel interrupts himself to suck on your clit a little, “So proud of you, Pumpkin,” he says, “My girl. You did so good for me, baby.” 

His beard tickles your inner thighs as he kisses you all over, then goes back to your clit. He circles it a few times with his tongue, then licks lower, burying his tongue in your soft, dripping entrance. You reach for his beautiful aquiline nose as he fucks you on his tongue, drawing up that gorgeous slope and past his forehead, tangling your fingers in his curly, graying hair. 

“Daddy,” you moan, whimpering for Joel as he drags his tongue back up and down your folds. He builds a rhythmic pace then, circling your clit repeatedly, all while allowing you to rock and grind against his face. He guides you orgasm quickly, savoring the way you gush into his mouth, your clit throbbing beneath his tongue. 

You’re fucking soaked, a mess of both Joel and yourself. Joel shoves his boxers down his thighs, erection springing against his soft tummy, and swipes his fingers through your folds. He collects your arousal on his hand, then uses it to coat his hard length. “Ready?” he asks, hovering over you. 

“Mhm.”

“Y’wanna help Daddy put it in?” 

You nod quickly. Joel knows you like to have some semblance of control over the pace at which he enters you, so he likes to grant you that. Not always, though. Sometimes he’ll split you in half just to remind you of who’s in charge here, usually when you get a little mouthy or something like that. 

You take Joel’s cock in your hand, tracing the bulbous head and the veins that climb up the shaft. You tilt your hips and drag him through your folds, sighing softly at the way you tease yourself. 

“You’re killin’ me here, kid,” Joel grunts, taking your wrist in his hand to stop you. 

“Sorry.”

“S’all good, baby.” 

You notch his tip at your entrance. “Your turn, Daddy,” you tell Joel softly. 

And in he goes. He slides into you slowly, filling you with the entirety of his length. “Ohh, big stretch. Attagirl,” he praises, grunting as he bottoms out. 

It always takes you a minute to get used to him. You do your little routine, make your little faces as you squirm and get used to his cock stretching you out, and when you’re ready, Joel begins to move. “Watch,” he says. “Look, look. Wanna show you something,” Joel tells you softly. You lift your head as he pulls out, his thick length all coated in your arousal. “Ain’t that somethin’?”

“Yeah,” you agree, letting your head fall back again. Joel braces himself on his forearm as he thrusts back into you, building to a slow pace. He’s in no rush, really, not when he’s sliding his big hand up your waist and over your ribcage and squeezes you there. He could crush you, you know. His delicate girl. He could do it. 

Joel bends down and skims his mouth and the tip of his nose over your breasts, taking time to wrap his lips around both of your nipples. He loves you so much, the elegant, gentle shapes of your body. All of those curves, all for him. 

The special way he fucks you - nothing comes close to this. No matter what, good day or bad, this will always be yours and Joel’s to savor. 

His cock is dragging against your g-spot, his pubic hair grinding against your clit. It’s all becoming too much, too sensitive for you to even cum. But Joel tells you to anyway. “Can’t, Daddy,” you whimper.

“Sure ya can,” Joel says. “S’been a week, honey. I know you’re needin’ it.” 

But are you, though? Not really, when Tommy took your punishment and reward into his own hands and made good and sure that you were well satiated before he left. And with the orgasm Joel pulled from you using his tongue, well. 

“One more, nice and big,” Joel encourages. “Show your daddy how hard you can cum on his cock, huh?”

Funny. Didn’t Tommy say the same thing?

Joel rubs your clit in practiced circles, coaxing along your release as he thrusts into you harder, faster, and deeper. And then it’s happening, and Joel’s name is spilling from your lips in breathy moans as you cum so hard on his cock, feeling indescribably full as your pussy pulses around him. It’s such a weighted, overwhelming feeling, and it washes over you in wave after wave. “Oh, baby girl.” Joel’s right behind you, breathing your name as he milks himself with your cunt, spurting rope after rope of his cum. “Take it nice an’ deep f’me,” he says, and like the most perfect girl you are, you take it all. 

Joel pulls out of you, not worried about the cum that spills on his comforter. It’s seen better days anyway, he thinks. 

After you both come down, Joel breaks the silence. “Think we should redo our date?” he asks, still breathing heavily. 

“Yes,” you answer. 

“I think so too,” he says. “Go pick somethin’ pretty to wear, and meet me in the shower to get cleaned up. Maybe we’ll see Uncle Tommy there or somethin’ too, huh?”

-

more dark daddy!joel here

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