Smother - Part Viii: Punishment, Peace

smother - part viii: punishment, peace

dark!joel x f!reader

series masterlist | main masterlist | ao3 | kofi

summary: your first punishment comes after being tested by joel, and it changes something in you, letting you easily fall into a routine with a man you should not be this comfortable with. 13.5k words (LMFAO THEY KEEP GETTING LONGER) chapter warnings: 18+ MDNI! dubcon - stockholm syndrome, general coercion, innocent reader, big juicy age gap (reader is 19, joel is 55), ddlg/daddy dom! joel, sub!reader, spanking as punishment (reader is in agreement to it but again coercion and all that), joel is rough and manipulative with reader, but also some more soft joel, reader wears a collar, use of a leash this chapter, fingering, unprotected piv, creampie, period sex, corruption kink, pet names for reader, dirty talk, food consumption, discussion of pregnancy, reader gets her period, brief description of reader's clothing (see through nightgown), if these darker tags aren't your cup of tea please keep scrolling! a/n: holy fucking shit you guys 😭 i don't know why i literally have too much to say about these two and can't shut the fuck up-itis but here's another thick ass chapter for you all! i'm ready to get into some meaty stuff after next chapter as well so bear with me! thank you for the love on this story so far. and thank you to @janaispunk for being there for me and reading over this for me and helping calm my fears 🤍

reminder i have no taglist anymore, follow @beardedjoel-updates to hear about my new fics!

Joel’s sweet streak doesn’t last very long.

You stand, trembling a little, naked as the bathwater drains below your feet, and Joel wraps a towel around your shoulders. You shiver and he pulls it tight, starting to help you dry off, and you let him do most of the work. You’re exhausted, eyes a bit heavy from your meltdown, but Joel had used his fingers to make you come, soft and gentle until you were whimpering for him in the bath, and you found yourself feeling a bit better now. Smitten, in fact, towards the man who kept promising you so much. You didn’t realize that it would take him leaving for you to consider how badly you’d wanted to stay here with him.

“Oh, sweet girl,” Joel says suddenly, reaching forward and tugging you into him, the rim of the bathtub still separating the two of you. “I missed you s’much, daddy was worried sick about you while he was gone.” His hands rub along your back over the scratchy towel, keeping you pressed close, and the warmth radiating from him helps stop your shaking. You aren’t sure what it is - the cold of the air after the hot bath, still coming down from the way you’d trembled in Joel’s hold while you came only minutes ago, or the general fear you find tingling in your gut when you’re around him. 

“Finish dryin’ off,” he orders, taking your hand in his and helping you out of the bath, where errant droplets of water fling off of you and onto the thick wooden planks that make up the floor. “Don’t leave this room ‘till I come back f’you.”

You only follow the order silently, eyes heavy, not finding the energy to speak back as you rub the towel over your damp skin and watch him go, only for him to return just a few moments later and wrap an arm around you, landing it on your lower back and guiding you out of the room. Your heart starts to thump a little faster, his silence practically deafening - it was harder when you didn’t know what Joel was thinking, what his next moves were. 

“Lay down,” he commands when you two enter the bedroom, and your breathing picks up a little. You open your mouth to reply, to protest at all, worried about the fact that you still had much more to come with your period, how Joel would react to it all. “Lay down,” he says again, his words clipped and strained. You fight a whimper and walk towards the bed, where you see Joel had just placed a fresh set of sheets on, a pretty powder blue that you knew would become stained by you immediately. You flash him a look of concern, of doubt, and only see furrowed brows hiding his narrow, dark eyes as he juts a hand out towards the bed impatiently.

“Drop the towel.” Another demand, so you do, and Joel grabs it as it’s falling off of your naked form and lays it down along your usual side of the bed. You situate yourself, hesitantly placing your bottom on the towel then continue to watch him warily as he moves about the room, making his way back to the dresser, that same drawer he’d gotten the collar from the other night.

He turns around, holding a new piece of leather, looking similar to what you already have around your neck, but it’s much longer and the reality sinks in, remembering the chain that you’d discovered in the front closet. You wince quietly, praying Joel couldn’t hear the depraved little noise, and feel your thighs tense and tighten a little, completely unable to understand why.

Joel’s lips turn to a small smirk, satisfied when he sees you squirm a little while he approaches. “My little sugar likes the look of this, don’t she?” he rumbles out, leaning forward along the edge of the bed closest to you, just enough to brush his nose along yours, lips tempting you before pulling away. He slides the leather through his hands, a contemplative look on his face. 

“Say ‘yes daddy’,” Joel says, folding the leather and snapping it absentmindedly. He leans towards you, a finger hooking in the o-ring of your collar, barely tugging, but enough that the back of the collar pulls tighter against your neck, making your breath hitch at the sudden change.

“Yes… daddy…” you reply faintly, feeling completely sapped but on edge at the same time, your nerves frayed and sensitive, eyes burning and sore from pouring out tears for such a long time over the last twenty four hours.

“That’s my girl,” Joel says. His fingers drop the collar and reach behind you, looping the leather around the post of the bed, making a show of it as he runs his fingers up the length of it to the small clip at the other end. His eyes flash to your face over and over, gauging your reaction, but you try to sit still, the only indication of your feelings is your chest heaving as you try to get your mind to wrap around yet another new expectation from Joel. “Oh, you’ll look mighty pretty all safe in this bed, won’t you? Daddy won’t have to worry about a thing.” he murmurs as he clasps the leash to the o-ring, and you feel tears sting your eyes.

It starts to hit you that this isn’t just for a few minutes while Joel has his way with you, he means to leave you like this. “D-daddy… no…  you don’t have to… what’re you -”

“Shh, princess, daddy jus’ needs this. He’s feelin’ a little protective of you after bein’ away, worryin’ sick about you. Don’t you think that’s fair I have a little time to know you’re safe ‘n sound? Hm?” His head cocks and he grips the leash, presenting a tiny lock from his palm that you can hear him clip on, securing the leash to the collar, no way for you to unclip it without the key, which Joel will undoubtedly keep on him.

“I- I- can come with you, downstairs, uh, wherever you want…” you plead, knowing you’re pushing your luck, toeing the line of the clearly set boundaries he’s given you. But the thought of staying in this room all alone, wondering when Joel would make his next appearance, decide when you were allowed to eat, speak, and fuck made your stomach tighten with anxiety. “Please…” you add on quietly, squeezing your eyes shut to try and hold back your tears. Your eyes are tired of it, burning and blurred but you feel them watering, anyways.

“Right here’s juuuust fine, daddy’ll picture you waitin’ for me, all ready f’me whenever I need you.” He lets out a tiny growl from the very back of his throat at the thought alone, picturing you spread eagle, glistening, in need for him every moment he’s away, and unable to get enough in the ones he isn’t. “Jus’ missed you so much, my perfect little girl, that’s all this is - daddy wants to protect you, protect that pretty neck,” he rambles, eyes falling to your throat, adorned with the leather strap and then further down, raking over your naked body. “An’ all of this…” he adds on with more hunger in his eyes, a lustful gaze hovering along your chest and then between your thighs.

He dips forward as he stands next to the bed, hands on either side of you to support himself, his lips finding yours in a soft kiss - his attempt at reassurance. “Don’t cry, baby, you’ve had enough tears,” he says softly, one hand coming up to thumb off a few tears before he kisses you again.

“You think of me, think of how good I’ll make you feel next time I come up ‘n see you, feel yourself get all tingly right here,” he says, that same hand moving between your thighs to cup where you already know you’ve gotten a little wet. The second you saw the leash your stomach had churned, but you found your pussy pulsing a little at the thought of it. Joel owning you. He’d made that clear nights ago, that he owned every bit of you, that you were his to move and use and do as he sees fit, the leash only an extension of that, a symbol for the both of you.

Joel chuckles, his fingers spreading slightly to move along your pussy, feeling the bit of slick already waiting for him. He clicks his tongue, pulling back to meet your eyes with his in a slight daze. “Already wet…” he mumbles, kissing you again, teasing you with his fingers for a few moments, a shaky breath leaving your nose as you sigh a quiet moan into his mouth. 

“I’ve got a few things to take care of,” he says suddenly before pulling away fully, stepping back from the bed. You sit forward and start to crawl down the bed, reaching for him, a soft grunt exhaling when you’re tugged back by the leash. Your hands go to your neck, clutching at it, begging for relief.

“Daddy…” you whine, frowning as he moves further away. “Daddy,” you cry again, your voice a little hoarse as you strain against the collar pulling taught against your throat.

Joel turns back and watches quietly for a few beats, his head cocked and expression unreadable. Almost like he looks unimpressed, yet satisfied at the same time to be watching the little show you’re putting on for him - just what he wants, you begging for him, you needing him.

“Be good, blossom.” He turns around and walks out, shutting the door to the bedroom behind him with a soft click.

You don’t know how long he’s gone for. Time passes differently in this room. Since you’ve arrived at this cabin, really. Each day is a laze, stretching on for what feels like ages, yet flying by in a blink, your mind unable to comprehend that you’ve been here a week already.

At first you sit nearly catatonic right where you’d been when Joel left, completely devastated by your new predicament, thoughts racing out of control as you wonder just how long you’ll be alone and restricted like this. You’re not usually quick to anger, but you feel frustrated he left you here to rot, naked at that, especially while you’re on your period. You’re supposed to just lay here and bleed all over this towel? This is the same Joel who had painted your nails and been so loving not even thirty minutes ago, and you find it hard to believe. You wipe away the few tears that slip by, hardening and deciding to move around and start testing your limits. You can’t get far, can only stand up along your side of the bed, and there’s enough leeway that you can pretty much sit up or rest on either side of the bed. You find that you can lay down relatively comfortably, meaning you could get some much needed sleep if your now restless brain would give you enough of a break to try.

You shake your head to yourself, doubting you can turn off the way Joel has set you off now, when before you’d been so relaxed from your bath that you’d prayed for a nap. Yet when your head hits the pillow with a sigh, you doze within minutes.

The door cracks and you start to stir, blinking a few times to reorient yourself, rolling over only to be reminded of the leash as you feel the burden of it on your neck, the extra weight being tugged along. Joel creeps in, seeing you looking peaceful, trying to be quiet until he notices you rustling under the comforter, already awake. 

“There’s my girl,” he whispers hoarsely with a coy smile, approaching the bed. He looks more comfortable than before, having stripped off some of his layers, only in a tee shirt now with his jeans, boots kicked off likely by the front door. You give him a soft smile in return, just glad he came back for you. 

“Daddy…” you whisper as you turn your head over your shoulder, voice a little hoarse with sleep. You feel desperate for his contact, for any kind of touch, reaching a hand behind you as you lay on your side, willing for it to touch him, to reach him. 

“Thas’ right, I’m here,” Joel replies, crawling into bed and quickly spooning behind you, immediately flush with your body and the first thing you notice is a hard lump pressing into your back. He’d come for that, not to rescue you. But he starts to take his time - his fingers brush delicately along your cheek, down your neck, then on to your arm and you shudder, your body responding instantly to the soft, tender touch. He strokes little patterns on every bit of skin he can, finally working his way inward towards your breasts, testing your nipples between his fingers with a tiny roll. You gasp softly, a quiet little whimper following when he continues touching the hard buds, working them between the pads of his fingers. 

“Did my little pet stay wet for me?” he whispers next to your ear, his lips brushing the shell of it with a soft kiss. 

You nod, feeling the familiar Joel-induced trembling starting inside of you. “I tried, daddy… but I fell asleep.” His fingers work on your nipples for a few quiet moments, just listening to the little noises you make, desperate ones, ones he’d been dying to hear from you.

“Hmm…” he murmurs, moving from your nipples to snake the hand between your legs. “Think you could do better next time,” he decides, feeling that you’ve only started to get wet again. “But that’s okay, need my baby well rested f’me, don’t I?”

“Yeah, that’s right,” you concur, nodding again. “W-was just wanting you back here, so I went to sleep hoping it’d come faster,” you add on with a little whine, realizing how lonely you’d felt when Joel was in Jackson had only tripled knowing he was right here in the house, just willfully ignoring you.

Your words make Joel groan, a deep, sensual noise that reverberates in your ear. “So sweet f’ missin’ daddy like that,” he growls, his hips rutting into your ass a little bit more, grinding against you.

Joel’s lips attach to your bare shoulder, kissing and sucking, then harder, and it makes your breath catch on the inhale. He does another, then another, moving his way to your neck, where fading marks need to be freshened up, the space on your body reclaimed by him. Joel peers down at your now swollen skin, already discoloring and smiles. 

“So beautiful when everyone can see you’re mine…”

You know his words are useless, nobody will come within miles of this place to even see his special marks, but you whine quietly anyways as his twang rumbles so close to your ear. It sends your thighs clenching a little before your body rolls back towards him, pressing your ass into the hard bulge in his jeans. 

“What is it? What’s my little blossom tryna say?” Joel teases, when he notices your mouth trying to stutter out the only thing your brain can focus on: Joel’s touch. 

“I… w-want you… there…” you say, breathlessly, feeling your skin burn hot at the allusion to something so intimate.

“Oh, you missed daddy’s cock, that it? Missed me fuckin’ you full’a me?” Joel slides a hand underneath the side of you that’s against the bed, snaking it around the front of your throat. He grasps where the leash meets the collar and tugs you back into him, your neck straining as you try to nod and answer his question. 

“Y-yes… sir,” you whimper with a slight crack in your voice. 

Without any further warning, he slowly slides a finger inside of you, pressing it deep. You squirm, inhaling a sharp breath at the tiny stretch he’s giving you before he slips a second finger in quickly. Your whines grow louder, that feeling of fullness so good but not enough, not like you’d felt when you were on his lap before he left for Jackson. That was impossibly full, the sensation burning right through you, so complete with him that deep inside of you.

“D-daddy…” you moan, “Please… I -” You try to get the words out, your chest tightening at the thought of begging him for his cock of your own volition - it just didn’t seem lady like to you, like something you should be doing. You try to remind yourself of Joel’s words, that everything you’d learned had been from bad people doing a bad thing, meaning you couldn’t be wrong for enjoying this, right? If that was true, you couldn’t be wrong for dreaming about the way he slid into you, picturing exactly the way he’s holding you by the collar right now, making sure you know how much of a pet you are to him. Your cunt aches at the thought now as his fingers fuck you, your clit pulsing and needy at something you wish felt more wrong to you. But it just… doesn’t. 

“She’s so empty, ain’t she? Tell me how much you thought about this cock while I was gone, baby. All day, hm? You wanna touch yourself while I was gone?” Joel grits out in your ear, his breathing picking up.

“U-uh-huh, all day, all day, daddy,” you say with a shaky voice as his fingers pump a little faster, gathering speed as slick, lewd sounds start to fill the room. “I wanted to…”

“But you didn’t,” Joel states, so assured in his words, like he has some extra sense, some way to know just by looking at you. The thought of him reading you that well, knowing all your innermost thoughts and secrets makes you shudder as his thumb presses to your clit. “Did you?” You shake your head fervently, mutter a string of no’s, showing him you mean it. “I know y’didn’t, you know how I know that?”

You shake your head, barely able to think straight as your eyes flutter shut and your legs fall open even more for Joel’s touch.

“‘Cause you’re a good girl. You understand…” he trails off, his fingers moving sloppily, yet precisely curling up into your g-spot and pushing on that deep part of you. You’re going limp, half hearing his words but still soaking up the praise as a flicker of heat lights up in your lower belly. “You understand what your place is here, sugar. Daddy’s little pet…” 

You moan loudly at his words, the way he tugs hard on the leash when he says the word pet. You feel your mind fight you, sickened at how much you love what’s happening to you right now, the way you’re utterly at Joel’s mercy, unable to move with both of his arms around you. You twitch as his thumb flicks at your sensitive clit, toying with it just enough to make you consider begging him to go harder, to let you reach that sweet, glorious release you’ve started to crave, to need like the air you breathe.

“Little pet…” you echo with a choked whisper, and Joel’s lips turn into a sneer, his entire body hot against yours as he brings you in as close as he possibly can. 

“Fuck…” Joel groans, the strength with which he’s tugging the leash seeming to be an afterthought, his mouth and nose pressed up against your neck as he breathes heavily against you. He’s intoxicated by it, your scent, the way he can feel your body responding, opening up for his fingers as he scissors them inside of you. “Say it again.”

“Your l-little pet…” you croak out in a moan as his fingers brush your g-spot again. Your legs start to shake and need claws at your insides, growing warm and tingly inside of you.

“God damn it, that’s fuckin’ right. Probably glad to be tied to this bed so I can come fuck you whenever I want, ain’t that right? Like the good little pet you are?” Joel says, his voice gruff as he degrades you, and it sends tears rolling down your cheeks as you nod with the tiny range of motion your head is given. Your pussy throbs, your insides alight and ready to burst at any minute. 

“I…” you choke out, moaning louder and louder. “Your pet…” you mumble out in a daze, hearing Joel grunt in response, grinding himself against you as his fingers work faster, his thumb giving your clit just what it needs 

“Be a good little girl and come for me now. Squeeze daddy’s fingers,” Joel whispers harshly in your ear before sloppily kissing the side of your face, lips tasting you as they move along your cheek to your neck. You feel so close, his words fueling the fire as you get there, just one more movement, one more flick of his fingers and you’ll -

“I- I’m coming! D-daaaaddy…” you whimper suddenly, shaking uncontrollably in his hold, your pussy pulsing and clenching as you sweat, reaching that glorious high. Your vision starts to speckle as you moan, sucking in breaths as they go higher and higher, until you can’t make any noise at all, choked by the pleasure and Joel’s hold on your collar. 

Joel praises you through it all, good girl, so pretty when you come, give it all to me, baby, but the fever pitch lasts for one sweet moment before you slump, just a doll in Joel’s arms now to play with as you catch your breath. 

Joel reaches between your bodies, hand shaking with anticipation, hardly able to even get his jeans unfastened in his state, rushing to pull his cock free as if any moment this could disappear from him, vanish like all the others in the confines of his memory. You’re half aware of the feel of his bare cock slapping against your ass, knowing that this is all far from over, that Joel won’t leave until he gets exactly what he came here for. 

“Fuck, pretty girl, let me fuck you like my little pet, then,” he says breathlessly, tucking his hips at the right angle before jamming through your thighs to your tight entrance, immediately slamming himself in. You scream, a pained yelp when you’re split open without warning, without the care and tenderness that Joel has given you before. Your eyes shoot open, hand trying to reach behind you to clutch at him, get his attention, but he slaps it away just as quickly as you’d moved it there. 

You can’t speak, can only gasp in a few breaths, your mouth opening and closing to greedily suck in air as you feel his hold on your leash tightening even more, angling your head to lean back onto his shoulder, no freedom left to move your neck or your entire body. Hot tears run down your face, your mouth tasting them as it’s opened in a perpetual oh now as he starts to move, leaving you squeaking out choked moans and shuddering breaths.

A cry breaks free from you when he pulls out, leaving you feeling empty just when you’d started to get used to the stretch and burn of his cock. His strong hands grip your fleshy hips, most of his hands on your ass as he rolls you flat on your stomach, keeping the leash held tightly in his hand. He’s back on you in a second, coming up behind you to straddle your legs and you feel his cock, still wet from you, slapping onto your ass. 

“Stay down,” he says harshly when you try to pop your hips up, then angle your head to peer back at him. His free hand presses into your back and you start to heave, the breath turning into a loud moan when you feel him breach you again, slamming in at full force. 

“Daddy…” you whimper quietly, the sound muffled by where your face presses into the towel Joel had laid out. The scratchy feel of it on your cheek reminds you of your current predicament and you start to panic a little, wondering if it’s okay to have him inside of you while you’re bleeding. Too late to be worrying about it now, though.

Joel slams in and out of your tight hole, seemingly harder each time, and you’re jostled against the mattress with each one, taking it all. He pulls out nearly completely with each one before pushing in as much of his length as he can on the thrust, and you realize you’ve been crying the entire time, the pain so delicate and balanced, nearly pleasurable with each time he re-enters you. It’s such a feeling of fullness, making your insides warm and bursting with pure heaven. You groan at the buildup of pleasure inside of you, your hips rocking against the towel while the material starts to catch on your swollen, sensitive clit. You’re crying so pretty for him, whimpers growing louder as he fucks you senseless, clearly built up over the last few days he was away.

“Look at you, takin’ it all so good, ain’t you. See? This is what you were meant for, blossom Look at this body takin’ all of me like the good girl you are,” Joel marvels while he looks between your bodies, watching his cock disappear over and over into your slick, dripping pussy. He tugs on the collar, forcing your neck up and back to arch and you cry out louder, fingers clutching at the sheets for dear life. 

This is so different from the other ways he’s been with you - he’s so rough, so careless today, and you thought this kind of thing might scare you, but you’re gushing for him as he does it, hearing the sloppy sounds telling you that you’ve gotten even more wet. 

“Yeah, baby…” Joel stutters out more raggedly, hips pounding and pounding so fast you can hardly keep up, your mind feeling like it’s unable to focus as his cock keeps splitting you open. “You’re so fuckin’ wet for me… you love bein’ a little pet for daddy.” He’s grinning like the devil above you, cheeks ruddy and forehead gleaming with sweat while he chases his high with more and more vigor.

You try to croak out a sound of affirmation, but a smack to your ass leaves you stunned, the noise dying off in your throat as you yelp instead. Joel’s hips snap into you carelessly now, sloppy thrusts until he stalls, groaning loudly, and your eyes flutter as you clench at his erotic sounds, feeling like you could finish just from hearing it, feeling that tiny power trip. His breathing is so loud as he groans again, and you realize he’s coming, that you feel him painting you from the inside, readying yourself to feel that slickness start dripping out of you any moment.

Joel drops everything - his hold on your ass, the leash, and rolls over next to you on the bed, his head facing away from you as he puffs out heavy breaths. Your neck feels a rush of relief as you can breathe without that tightness there, and your hands clutch at it gently to keep it off of your trachea. You watch Joel, see his cock going flaccid where it still hangs out of his jeans, all the rest of his clothing still on, and feel self conscious at how naked you are in comparison. It’s bloody, you realize, stained red, and you dare to roll over and peek down between your own legs, seeing the mess he’d made there too - his cum, your slick, your period, all dripping out, the towel stained underneath you. It makes you feel uneasy, for some reason, like you two shouldn’t have done that during this time of the month, but it had felt good… better, even, than it maybe had before.

“Mmm…” Joel finally murmurs, rolling towards you, slapping a hand onto your thigh a few times. “Good job, blossom, very good girl…” he mumbles before tucking himself back into his jeans and sitting up. Your mouth opens to speak, but he’s already halfway to the door, and you see him hang a left to go towards the bathroom before he shuts the door behind him. 

Watching him go, using you up and rushing out so quickly, you can’t help but cry again.

This feels like it's a punishment. For what, you don’t know. Maybe you hadn’t been good enough while he was gone, maybe he knows you snuck into that special room of his that smelled of fresh wood where you saw his humanity. Maybe you hadn’t performed well enough when he’d fucked you. You can’t think of a single rule you’d broken, but you felt that if you saw his face again any time soon you just might. 

Your mind starts to go numb. You don’t know how long you wait, maybe thirty minutes, maybe hours, but the next time Joel re-enters the room, he looks like a new man, refreshed. You’re angry with him, eyes narrowed as you watch him approach the bed, looking quite satisfied with himself. The lack of fairness he’s treated you with today has your blood boiling - the lack of answers, of telling you where he’ll be or when he’ll be back, it makes you feel… sad when it comes down to it.

“Alright, princess. Daddy wants to bring you downstairs for somethin’ to eat,” Joel says distractedly, acting as if nothing had happened, and it only makes you more angry. 

You grumble, not bothering to answer as you keep your eyes trained down at the sheets, focusing on the little wrinkles in the material from the way you’d been laying. Joel cocks his head, lifting a brow as he makes his way to your side of the bed, where you see him reach towards the headboard in your periphery, untying the leash. He tugs on it a little, urging you up, then tuts when his eyes fall between your legs, smeared and stained from when he was in here last.

“Didn’t even clean yourself up w’ the towel?” he asks, his tone a little biting. You don’t know why he would have any reason to be snippy and upset with you after how well behaved you’d been this afternoon, and it makes you feel even more indignant. 

“No. Why bother,” you snip back, clenching your teeth. “Thought you’d come back and do it again.”

Joel starts to smile to himself, a spiteful, devilish thing on his lips as he tugs the leash again, sending you jerking forward with a grunt.

“Yeah? That what you want? Me to use you like a little fuck toy again?” Joel picks up on your careless attitude right away, deciding to play with it, see how far he can push you. 

“Whatever you want, right?” you snip back harshly, baring your teeth but still unable to look him in the eye.

“Are you gettin’ a lil’ ornery in here, blossom? Grumpy with daddy?” Joel’s eyes light up a little, fingers tingling as his blood courses hot through him. He’s been itching for this, for a reason to give that perfect ass of yours a little lesson.

“Just… leave me alone…” you say with a little less gusto, feeling that sadness welling up in your heart again, that feeling of betrayal. Joel had promised to take care of you, and it felt like he’d been breaking that promise today. 

Joel stiffens, his fist clenching around the leash as he moves closer to the edge of the bed. “Oh, yeah? You want me to leave you up here for days? Shades closed, no sunlight, not even seein’ my face, let alone gettin’ any of this cock you love so much. That really what you want?”

You huff, feeling yourself shaking as you hold back tears. “I don’t care,” you reply stiffly, knowing it’s not the truth, that you’re desperate for him to treat you well, give you all the special treatment that you’ve had before. That sweet side of Joel that you know is in there, buried deep but able to be brought out by you, it seems.

“‘Cause I will do it, sweetheart. I don’t call bluffs, I don’t play around. I will. Fucking. Do. It.”

You bite down your whimper, starting to feel the fight kicking in within you, wanting to hurt him like he’s hurt you. But you don’t answer, can’t find it in you to truly fight back, say something meaningful and hurtful that you know will only hurt you, in the end.

“Fuck. You disobedient little thing…” Joel growls angrily, swinging his body so that he’s sitting on the edge of the bed, tugging harder than he has yet on the leash, forcing you to jolt towards him. He yanks you by the shoulders, dragging your body over his lap, belly down, ass upwards. Your heart starts to race, knowing what’s coming - punishment. A list of things explicitly spelled out by Joel that he could do to you if you misbehaved, if you deliberately broke the rules, and spanking was number one on the list. 

“Now…” Joel starts, squeezing one of your ass cheeks with his hand, jiggling it harshly. “Remember what we talked about? You don’t stop counting.”

Through a scratchy throat and bleary eyes you manage to get out a yes, daddy before he starts. The sting is harsh, more than you’d expected. This isn’t the kind of smack he’s done while you two were intimate, no, this is deliberate, meant to hurt.

“O-one…” you say, before Joel quickly brings his hand down over the same spot again, and you wince, feeling your eyes water.

“Two,” you choke out, your lip quivering. “I-it hurts…” you whine out as Joel has his hand in the air for the next comedown.

“This ain’t supposed to feel good, baby. It’s a punishment. ‘Sposed to remind you to be good,” he says, not letting you reply before his hand is back on you, spanking that same raw spot on your ass again. 

“T-t-three…” Your flesh burns, fire radiating off the spot, and you’re not sure how many more you can take. It makes you cry out a little louder, and you think you whisper a pathetic sorry under your breath.

“Four!” you nearly scream out when you feel the hardest one yet, the pain radiating across your backside and you can hardly breathe for a split second. You whimper louder and louder, hoping that it slows Joel down. 

“You sorry, baby? For disobeyin’ the rules? Bein’ a little brat to daddy?” Joel asks, his hand rubbing the raw skin, adding insult to injury.

“Y-yes, please, sir… I’m sorry…” you say, and while you don’t really have a choice if you want to save yourself pain, you truly are sorry. You wish that you’d have been honest with Joel, told him how hurt you felt, instead of whatever pouting you had ended up doing. Something about Joel makes you want to fall into that, though, making you feel as vulnerable as a child again. “I’m sorry,” you whimper once more for effect, fearful of where his hand is, if it’s readying itself to come down onto you again.

“Who do you belong to?” Joel asks harshly, his other hand tugging on the leash.

“Y-you…”

His fingers come down and gently touch your soft, round ass and you flinch. “And what am I?”

You whimper, lip quivering as you try to get the words out, fearful of another smack on your aching asscheek. “M-my master… my sir…”

Joel sneers, letting his grip on your body and the collar go a little more limp. “Oh, that was good, darlin’,” he chides condescendingly. “You sorry you tried to disobey me, disobey your master?”

“Y-yes, I really am, daddy…” you manage to get out before the tears fall.

“Okay, princess, that’s enough then,” Joel says, much softer now, his fingers starting to gently touch where he can see your skin rising already into a small welt, inflamed and angry at him. He lets you curl up as you start crying a little harder before helping you shift your body to lay back on the bed. He sits next to you, your face screwed up and eyes shut tightly as the pain washes over you, tears streaming sideways down your face. His hand reaches out, gentle strokes along the side of your head to calm you.

“It’s okay, baby… you’re okay…” Joel soothes you, his other free hand stroking your arm. “You did a good job, honey, took your punishment like a good girl.”

You just nod, sniffling. “I’m sorry, daddy. Y-you just hurt my feelings really bad. I wanted… I wanted… to hurt you back.”

Joel’s lips press together, a sympathetic line as he nods. “I know, baby. Daddy wanted you to be safe, but you were confused, weren’t you?”

You just nod, using the back of your hand to wipe at your nose.

“It was a lot, huh? Daddy needed to keep you safe, and it made me feel real good knowing you were in here. You’re jus’... gonna have to be okay with me needin’ that when I come back from a long trip.”

Your stomach sinks, thinking of having to relive this again. You don’t mind the leash, really, or the fact that he wants to have you ready and waiting for whenever his cock gets hard, but it’s the loneliness that gets to you. You’ve been lonely your entire life, mostly, never feeling like you could fit in or be good enough for the life presented to you. You’d just wanted Joel to care, to show you that you didn’t have to be lonely if he could help it, but then he stuck you in this room like an afterthought. 

“O-okay, daddy,” you say, instead deciding to resign yourself to his whims again. “C-can you… can I ask…?” you stutter out, glancing up at him finally to see his dark brown eyes worrying for you.

“Go ‘head,” he says softly, fingers dancing along the side of your face.

“C-can you not leave me alone for too long, though?” you squeak out, and Joel’s lips pull into a small smile, his heart squeezing at the fact you’d missed him that much.

“I can try,” he replies, smile growing with sick satisfaction.

“Thank you,” you practically whisper, and Joel’s arms wrap around you, pulling you into him. 

“C’mon, give daddy some love,” he says, and you slip your arms around him, just content to lay in his hold, let him comfort you and take away the pain. “Can we go get you cleaned up now, get you fed?” he asks with his fingers tightly pressed against your back.

“Yes, sir.”

Joel makes you lunch, working on a pan fried chicken breast to split, trying to make his Jackson haul last, and you marvel at the smell coming from the kitchen as you sit at the kitchen table and watch him in action. Joel tells you and shows you all of the things he’s brought back from Jackson while you two wait for the food to cook. Fresh eggs, meat, bread, new seeds for the garden now that spring is on your doorstep - you’re going to have zucchini this year, he tells you with an innocent excitement in his voice that you don’t hear often. And workin’ on hopefully a chicken of our own someday for these eggs, he adds on with just as much enthusiasm. 

You’d thought the nail polish was the only extra gift, but he holds up a new dress for you with a small smile, the fabric a little faded but the soft floral pattern still coming through. Joel tells you he couldn’t have walked away without it, imagining how perfect it would look on you. It makes you smile, starting to feel a little better as you hold the fabric, looking at it while Joel goes back to the stove. Things are moving back to normal - Joel is doting on you and you’re sitting quietly in admiration, just the way he likes it.

“Gonna be nice ‘n full after this, princess,” Joel throws over his shoulder, giving the vegetables in his second pan a stir. A few moments later he plates and presents it to you as usual, bringing over a steaming cup of tea, something you hadn’t asked for. It smells strange, your nose scrunching a little as you peer down at it with concern. 

“Drink up, sweetheart,” Joel urges upon seeing your hesitation, and you take a sip, smacking your lips at the odd combination of flavors. 

“What is it?” you ask curiously, staring down at the light brown liquid.

“Daddy wants you to drink this every day, okay? It’ll be good for your health.”

“But…” you hesitate, the inside of your lip starting to get worn down with the way you’ve been worrying at it since you got here. “I’ll try, daddy,” you acquiesce, taking another sip. It’s not terrible, you’ve just never tasted a tea like this in your life - it almost tastes medicinal, bitter.

“That’s my girl,” Joel says, his face softening as he catches you stopping yourself from questioning him. “You know what daddy says, goes, now, don’t you?” He reaches over and ruffles your hair as you nod obediently. The way your ass cheek stings at it presses against the hard wood of the chair is confirmation enough to you that yes, what he says goes. 

You can’t help but feel a bit hesitant, not understanding the sudden push for this new addition to your diet, but you need to think, to find a way around the rules, to ask him about it without seeming too disobedient. You want to be curious still, not shoved in a box just because you’re worried about Joel’s rules and getting another spanking.

“Now, eat up,” Joel urges, and you don’t fight him on it, digging into your meal as your stomach rumbles. Once you’d come downstairs, the scents had sent your stomach practically cramping with hunger. You hadn’t had anything since your relatively early dinner last night and this morning breakfast was the last thing on your mind with how worked up you’d been feeling.

Joel chews, seeming pleasantly lost in thought as he keeps glancing your way, checking in on how well you’re eating. “Least I didn’t knock y’up yet, considering…” he says suddenly, casually waving his hand downwards towards your thighs.

“Knock… me up?” you ask, tilting your head as your fork hovers above your plate. 

Joel licks his lips. “Pregnant,” he says quickly, seeming to have to remind himself that a good amount of slang is going to be lost on you. “You ain’t pregnant yet. ‘Cause of all that, your period ‘n everythin’,” he explains further and your brows twitch a little, still uncomfortable with just how comfortable he is with all of it after being told the polar opposite for so long. Joel had cleaned you up, figured out some things you could use as pads, considering he had none - something he silently cursed himself for not thinking of while he was in Jackson, but there was always the next trip. He’d even helped you set up a system to keep things clean - a rotation of cloths you could wash and use regularly for this kind of thing, if it made you more comfortable to take care of it in private. And it did, although you appreciated Joel’s strangely caring effort towards the entire thing. 

“P-pregnant, right…” you murmur, scratching your chin absentmindedly as your gears turn. You feel warm, embarrassed by the topic of conversation, realizing all what it could be implying for the two of you. You muster up the courage to look up when you find Joel’s eyes already ready to meet yours, a little smirk on his face. 

“If you got your period, you ain’t pregnant,” he says simply, assuming that you likely barely knew anything about how your own body worked. A fact that pisses him off more than he can explain, but at the least, it gives him a chance to be the one to feed you the information, be someone to rely on and guide you. A thought that made his cock half hard as he reflects on just how innocent you really are. And he can keep you this way, if he wants, feed you just enough to feel some semblance of maturity and control, but still shielded enough from that world that you’ll keep that spark, that purity about you. 

“I know that,” you say, a little snippy. “I’m not completely… clueless…” you add on, defending yourself. At the least you had been taught that once you got married, if you were having your monthlies, you weren’t having your husband’s child yet. Your fork scrapes your plate while you get lost in thought and you remember to take a bite to appease Joel, who has been watching you eat your vegetables with more scrutiny than seems necessary. 

“D-do you want… that?” you ask into the silence, eyes averted quickly downward, heat flooding your face. You knew that husbands were more than keen to make sure their wives were pregnant, you’d also been told that much - men expect to produce, to further their bloodline. 

Joel looks at you with that look of intrigue he loves to throw your way. “Do you want that?” he throws back at you, teasing with his tone. 

You hadn’t expected him to ask you, to even potentially weigh your opinion on it with his. The truth was, you’d resigned yourself to having children years ago, knowing that unless you were unable to get pregnant, it wasn’t a choice that you would get. Decided practically from your birth, you were there as a vessel to please, to reproduce, to serve. 

“I- uh, I - “ you stutter, blinking down at your half eaten plate of food. “I never had a choice, so…”

“So… what, then?” 

You think Joel might be goading you, but you want to be honest with him, especially knowing now all of the hard truths he’d shared with you about the cult. You feel a little choked up just thinking about it, remembering the constricted feeling of their lives, the way what you’re about to say to him was your everyday truth. “I never had the option before. I always knew I was gonna have kids, that I was supposed to. So I don’t know… jus’ sort of got used to it.”

Joel sits with your words for a few quiet beats, having expected as much based on what he knew about where you’d been raised. “Well, sweet girl, I bet you’d make a great mother.” He pauses, licking his lips before chewing another bite. “An’ you will.”

Your face falls a little, realizing despite his question, you still never stood a chance, never had the choice. You don’t know why Joel even bothered to ask if he was just going to decide for you the next moment. It was cruel. You can see him, feel him reading your expression for anything to disapprove of before his eyes dip to your plate, a silent signal to not make him have to ask to finish your food. You use the opportunity to look downwards at your plate to hide your upset expression and clear your throat quietly. 

“Oh,” you say softly, trying to think of how to respond. “You mean with - with you, right?”

“Sweetest thing…” Joel tries to hold back his smile, unable to believe just how sweet you are sometimes, how clueless. “Of course, blossom, it’s me ‘n you here for, well,” He breathes out a little chuckle, devious grin spreading, “Ever, darlin’. Did you not understand that before?”

Your stomach sinks further, the meal you’d nearly finished now quickly turning sour. It’s not that you didn’t understand it, but you hadn’t quite gotten the chance to face it yet, to process that it was going to really be as long as Joel demanded it be. Maybe time would change things, you wonder silently. Maybe someday you’d be… truly free. Whatever that might mean for you. 

“N-no, daddy, of course I did. I know you’re keeping me safe forever,” you say with a sweet lilt, hoping it doesn’t sound too forced. You’re just disappointed at the way reality is crushing in on you right now, trying to hide it as best you can. 

“Thas’ right, pretty girl. So yes, baby, me n’ you and all our babies. Jus’ not yet…” he says, pushing the cup of tea he’d made a little closer to you. “Want you all to myself for a while longer. So drink up.” 

Your eyes widen, bringing the cup to your lips and drinking, your mind spinning. What was in here? What the hell were you drinking?

“Go on, ask me,” Joel says, sitting back in his chair, his now empty plate moved a few inches away from him. 

“This will…” you start, glancing down at the mug you still grip with both hands, the warmth almost too much on your palms with how uncomfortable you’re feeling. “Make me… not pregnant?”

“Close. Jus’ helps things along. Best chance we got right now, since we don’t have all the fun stuff we used to in the old days.” Joel decided he’d be damned if he couldn’t come inside of what belonged to him, mark you deeply in every way possible every single time he pleased. Asking around Jackson had been a cinch, a naturopath there guiding him to the right herbs they had on hand and natural remedies that weren't necessarily a guarantee, but could give you a chance at avoiding pregnancy. It wasn’t like there were many other options with birth control and a steady, consistent supply of condoms off the table. Joel recognized the futility of it, knowing he should just fucking pull out, you idiot, but anyone who would say that to him hadn’t felt the sweet embrace of you wrapped around his cock before.

“Okay, then,” you say, unable to think of much else to contribute. It’s not like you had any idea what people used to do to avoid pregnancy, or that it was even something people wanted, having grown up around women with constantly swollen bellies, babies and children always seeming to crop up in the community, every couple churning out kids for the good of the group.

“So drink up, babygirl. Finish that or you don’t leave the table.” Joel’s command sticks to your skin, a tingle of fear washing over your delicate skin as you start to down the bitter liquid, trying not to scrunch your nose up too much at it. 

“Good girl, all you needed was a little encouragement from daddy, huh?” he coos at you as you finish drinking every last drop, standing up to lean over and kiss the top of your head before starting to clear the table. 

You smile at him, a genuine thing as a spark of happiness lights up warm and achy inside of you at his praise, and you suppose that it was all you needed. 

You fall into a routine with Joel now that he’s back home and settled in, the punishment in the bedroom put behind the two of you. You find yourself wanting to be on your best behavior, have him look at you with that lightness in his eyes, like you’re everything good in his world, and hear him praise you for it. Not even because you want to avoid that pain again, but because you like the feeling of being good, letting Joel take the weight off your mind with a set way to behave that you know will make the both of you happy. The more you practice, the more relaxed you feel around him. It all starts to feel rather natural, really. 

He brings you your special tea every morning, whether it’s in bed as he gently shakes you awake or downstairs in the kitchen if you’re up early enough. Joel doesn’t mind you sleeping in though - he’s not disciplined like that. He likes to rise early himself, but he likes the thought of you being well rested and healthy. He only tries to make sure he’s always there when you open your eyes for the day, making sure he’s the first thing you see in the morning and the last in the evening. 

You start to notice things about Joel as the days go by. He likes hard work, but likes it even more when you’re around to watch it. He knows your eyes drift when he chops wood, intrigued to watch his strength move, ogle his muscles and the way he grunts and sweats, showing off for you. He’s usually able to make quick work of you afterwards, fingers jammed inside of you and making you come faster than most other times, sometimes right there on the little stump you’ve made into your seat outside as you watch him. Joel loves to hear the echoes of your moans bounce around in the open space, traveling through the trees, nobody else to hear them for miles but the two of you. 

He likes to cook, do laundry, work on keeping his guns clean and repaired, and keep the cabin tidy, always telling you he feels hard work like that is rewarded when he can just relax at the end of the day feeling like he earned it. When you ask what about you, that you don’t feel like you work very hard, he only laughs. Hard work lookin’ that pretty and bein’ daddy’s perfect little pet all the time. The answer satisfies you, makes your cheeks warm in happiness that he thinks you’re pretty enough that it’s considered a full day's work. You giggle about it to yourself that night as you fall asleep, catching yourself wondering when it had gotten this easy to feel comfortable around Joel.

But by far your favorite routine with Joel is the evenings, when your bellies are full and Joel calls you over to read with him. The first night he’d picked up a book and told you he wanted to read together, you’d been elated. You had eyed the bookshelves in the house but never delved into them, still finding your footing in what you were and weren’t allowed to do with your time, or where you were allowed to poke your nose. You’d gone to sit on the couch to listen while Joel read, but he just shook his head with that wry smile pulling up on the right side of his mouth. 

“No no, baby, right here,” he’d said, glancing down at the floor in front of where he sat on his soft, puffy chair next to the fireplace. You’d cast your eyes down, starting to walk over towards him. Joel’s head tilted as he watched your subservient little walk and he shook it again. “Crawl, please, blossom,” he’d punched out before you could take another step. 

You’d sunk to your hands and knees and crawled like it was second nature, the burn of his eyes on you making your tummy feel that strange but all too familiar tingling again at the look of pride in Joel’s eyes. The moment you’d reached him, his big, calloused hand was already out, ready to pet your head softly. Good girl, so pretty when you crawl to daddy, he’d whispered before opening the book in his lap.

It quickly became just as much part of the routine, you crawling to him from wherever you were in the room every time he sat down with his latest novel and a small glass of scotch that he had every so often as he read. Helps end the day right he’d said when you asked him about it, curious at the strange brown drink that smelled funny on his breath later that night as he kissed you. Unsurprisingly to Joel, alcohol was a huge resounding no for all of your life, but he held back from giving you any just yet. Daddy’s special drink. It nearly made your eyes roll, but he’d looked so handsome when he’d leaned forward and said it, swirling the drink inside the glass that you could only smile up at him from where you kneeled. 

Tonight, you’re working your way through more of White Fang, and it’s not been holding your attention very well, but you like listening to Joel’s voice as he reads it to you, getting comfortable on the pillow underneath your knees. Joel brings your head down to his lap with a guiding hand, the side of your face resting on his warm thigh clad in a pair of plaid pajama pants. The material is soft, the expanse of his thigh the perfect place to rest your cheek while his hand traces loving strokes and patterns all along your cheeks and head. You feel your eyes blinking slower and slower, a common occurrence with this specific book, and Joel’s thigh shitly slightly underneath you jolts you awake. You tap his thigh a few times with your index finger, barely a flutter, just the way Joel had instructed if you wanted to get his attention while he was focused on the page. 

Joel peers at you over the book, one brow going up when he looks down at you, cheek pressed to his thigh, pretty eyes so heavy and mild. He goes soft, cracking a small smile and giving your head a pat. 

“Yes, blossom?” he asks, the words you’d been waiting to hear. Wait until I address you, then you speak.

“Daddy, this one is boring…” you say, your voice whinier than you’d intended but you feel so passionately bored by this novel tonight that even Joel’s charming twang is not enough to stop the words from grating on you.

Joel’s face falls a little, a fake wounded expression covering his features. “Darlin’... this is a classic. We’re tryna get you well read, ain’t we?”

“Well, yes…” you start, twisting your lips, recalling how Joel had been on a mission to fill in some gaps in your education. “But can we just try something else for a little bit? Please please? I don’t wanna fall asleep yet, it’s so early...” you complain, peering past Joel to the window, where a sliver of deep orange still sits in the sky, the sun not even fully set yet.

Joel sighs, unable to resist the way your mouth pouts so convincingly without even trying. Those same lips making him more sentimental by the day, he silently curses himself. Another long sigh falls from his lips as he battles it out with you, silently staring into your pleading eyes. “Yes, okay, okay, for tonight,” he acquiesces, “Only tonight.”

You sit up straight with a new fire in your blood, a bright smile on your face as you clap your hands together a few times. “Yay! Really, daddy?” you ask, so innocent and truly thrilled about this small victory that it makes Joel’s heart do a quick squeeze as he watches you from above.

“Yes really, now you go pick somethin’ ‘fore I change my mind,” Joel snips at you playfully, chuckling as he watches you stand up and bound over to the bookshelves that line the wall near the staircase. Your sheer white gown flows as you move, Joel’s eyes catching on the way he can see your curves through it, the lines of your light pink panties hugging your ass just visible in the low light of the room, the small lamp behind Joel’s chair and the fireplace giving the room a warm, cozy glow. He smirks at the little show he gets as you browse, bending over, crouching, and pondering while you scan the spines of the books, looking for anything that sticks out.

“Oh, this? I like the cover,” you call out, tugging a book out and brushing your fingers along the cover - it’s cloth bound, a bit dusty but Joel can still see the delicate flower pattern gracing the front. “W-wuthering Heights?” you ask, turning to look at him and holding it up. “Maybe this one…” you say, tucking it into your arm for safekeeping while you continue your search.

“No no, we are not doin’ that. Don’t got all night,” Joel calls over to you impatiently. “Next book you pick better be the one.”

The shelves are mostly filled from whoever owned this place pre-outbreak, such a stark difference in genres leading Joel to believe it was at least two different people. Joel had included a few of his own finds and personal favorites over the years he lived here, but it had hardly made a dent in making the collection feel more like his own. Among the dozens of books many of the strong standing classics lined the shelves, but a myriad of mystery books (Joel’s guilty pleasure), self help, and an entire shelf of those corny romance novels were also left behind by the previous tenants. 

As soon as your finger hovered over that particular shelf, scanning the titles he knew your eyes had to be wide, reading the spines at a slower pace. He caught your body tensing a little, more careful as you pluck one and stare at the cover. A windswept woman in a tight corset, her bosom heaving while she swoons into a man’s bare chest stares back at you and you blink a few times.

“The… Forbidden Lady?” you say quietly, nearly mesmerized by the erotic depiction on the cover, the picture alone making a dull tingling start in your core. “This one!” you suddenly call out with more gusto, putting Wuthering Heights back in its spot and clutching the new choice close to your chest.

Joel swipes his hand down his forehead before pinching the bridge of his nose. “That’s… trashy romance, darlin’. We… don’t need to be readin’ that. It’s er, no good.” Joel had one of the dirtiest mouths he’d ever heard, especially compared to his past lovers, but even he felt a little apprehensive about the things he’d have to read aloud, not to mention he’d always heard of that type of book having a less than favorable reputation as real, readable literature.

“It looks good, though! Doesn’t it?” you ask excitedly, turning the cover to face him as you step closer, jamming your pointer finger onto the couple a few times for effect. “You said… you said I could pick!” You nearly start to bounce on the balls of your feet, your energy seeming to come right back to you after your dozing state not even minutes ago. 

“Darlin’ I-” Joel starts, grimacing, but you press on.

“Just a little. Please! Just… look through it and see if we’d like it,” you beg, shoving the book in his direction. Joel takes it tentatively, his expression less than thrilled but he starts to inspect the cover, scoffing to himself. 

“Don’t go thinkin’ you run the place now, sweetheart, just ‘cause daddy reads your pick, okay?” he chides, looking over at you. 

You nod eagerly, your eyes glued on the book, where Joel has his fingers wedged in, refusing to open it until you respond. 

“Yes, yes daddy of course. You do, I know.” You bounce a little impatiently. “I just really want to know what this is like… reading something romantic,” you say, biting your lip and stilling yourself, tucking your hands behind your back as your cheeks go a bit warm at the admission. You can’t help but feel antsy, wanting to know what Joel is seeing as he flips through the pages with no rhyme or reason. His eyes widen, face lighting up and then screwing up before he chuckles. 

“Are you sure you can handle this? You know what kind of stuff is in these books?”

You certainly think you might have a few guesses judging by the cover. You’d never really seen, let alone read books like The Forbidden Lady, but just the idea of romance had always tugged at your heart, wishing so deeply to feel anything like that with someone. “Well, yes, I mean… no. Romance? And couples and stuff, right? And…” you feel your face go even warmer as you try to push out the next word. “Sex?”

“You want there to be?” Joel asks, leaning forward and peering up at where you stand through his lashes. “You’re a dirtier girl than you’d let on, blossom, y’know that?”

Your cheeks are burning burning burning, skin hot all over at his accusation. He’s not wrong, you suppose - you’re a far cry from the values you’d been raised with these days, but truly you’re only curious. The thought of reading about another relationship, all their intimate moments, everything just mass produced and on the shelves for people to buy pulls you in, wondering what it’s like. You want to hear what other people, even if they’re only fictional characters, do in a relationship, how they behave. 

“N-no! I’m not. I just want to… hear about someone else. I only know the stuff we do…” you admit shyly, tucking your hands behind your back, one hand grabbing on to the wrist of your other arm, your body swinging a little with nerves. 

Joel looks amused, laughing with his chest shaking a bit. “There’s a lot more we ain’t done yet, babygirl, if that’s what you want. I can show you…” Joel lunges forward, a hand swiftly wrapping around your body to land on your ass cheek, trying to pull you close. His move takes you by surprise and you stumble forward, giggling as he squeezes your round asscheek and pulls you again, making you nearly fall into his lap. 

“No, no! I -“ you try to speak, laughing when Joel tugs you between his legs, both hands now firmly planted on each ass cheek. He gives a look of warning, as if to say ‘choose your next words carefully, sweetheart’.  “I do want to! I just really want to read it first, please daddy. Don’t you think it’ll be fun? More than that other boring old book,” you tell him, trying to make your eyes pleading and soft for him, practically about to beg. This will be the most interesting entertainment you’ve gotten in weeks, aside from the entire whirlwind that is Joel. 

“Already said I would, but I like you beggin’ me anyway,” Joel replies, smirking with a quick wink. “Alright, down then, blossom, back on your knees for daddy.”

You slink down, putting your hands on both of his thighs and you disappear between his legs, situating the pillow under your knees. 

“All the way,” he urges, and you start to lay your head on his thigh, always preferring the left one, laying your right cheek on it and blinking up at him. 

“Very good,” he says distractedly as he opens the book back up, doing a quick scan of a few sections before you see his eyes darken. They flick to you over the novel and then back to the page, and his smile grows. 

“This’ll do,” he announces before clears his throat a little. His fingers curl onto your crown, starting his soothing ministrations that make you want to start purring like the tamed little kitten you’ve become. You fight the tiny sound of pleasure that pulls at the back of your throat, trying to focus on Joel and the book you’d been so excited to hear him read.

“‘My - my lady,’ Mr. Buxton gasps out in earnest, looking down at the fair maiden in front of him -‘“ Joel starts, and you fight your own gasp as the excitement builds. Joel sounds less than enthusiastic so far, but you don’t care, you’re already eating it up, ready to be transported into another world.

Her bosom heaves out of the top of her silken purple corset, so ripe and ready for the taking. Mr. Buxton tears his eyes away at the shame of it all. “We - you should not. We cannot,” he says decidedly. 

Lady Georgina’s desperation only grows like flowers after a good Spring’s rain - bursting forth brilliantly. Her hands go to Mr. Buxton’s waist, a daring move, she knows. He wants this just as bad, she begins to understand by the way his eyes glance downwards at where her delicate hands sit. It’s unspoken, yet burning at her deep inside, a need she’s not known before. Certainly not with her betrothed, the insufferable Mr. Wickly.

“Mr. Buxton… my… Henry…” the Lady says in reply, a plea to Mr. Buxton to address him so informally. 

Your eyes are wide and unblinking as Joel reads, a breath caught in your throat that you don’t even realize you’re holding. Your thighs squeeze together, anticipation heating between them as you realize what the scene is setting up for, all the tension between the characters so thick and palpable.

“Jesus Christ,” Joel sighs quietly, interrupting the flow. Your hand grasps onto his shin from where you kneel before him, a silent urging for him to continue reading.

“Please…” you whisper back as he looks at you, eyes desperate and glimmering, beyond ready to hear what happens next to Lady Georgina. You see him fight a roll of his eyes, hating the way your sweet face makes him soft, willing to do what you want, when it should be the other way around.

The couple is so close to her bed, the private sanctuary of her chambers never so glady infiltrated as it is now with the man she truly loves, the one she feels bound to forever against all logic. How can one marry a man she does not love when passion burning in such a way exists in one Mr. Buxton?

Lips suddenly clash in this losing battle of love, the pair unable to hold it, hide it any longer. Mr. Buxton is mesmerized by his Lady’s plush lips tentatively pushing into his before the kiss deepens, her hands tightening around his waist. 

“Henry,” Lady Georgina mewls to her love, her eyes sparkling with the head spinning kiss they’d shared. 

Joel leans forward, reaching for the hand of yours that’s been gently toying with your chin and bottom lip as your mouth sits parted in pure wonder at what you’re hearing. He drags your hand by the wrist to the top of his thigh, starting to force your hand to rub over his crotch. He hardly misses a beat of the story as he reads on, Lady Georgina suddenly working on undoing Mr. Buxton’s trousers, and you gasp. Joel cracks the tiniest smile that comes through in his voice as he reads. 

Buxton’s quivering member is a sight to behold, Georgina’s eyes hardly able to shy away from it despite knowing she should, that a Lady should not stare. But she can not tear her eyes away, her gaze steady upon him, the way he wants for only her while she begins to  drop herself down to her knees in front of him. 

You feel your entire body tense up, thighs wriggling slightly on the pillow beneath you as your legs clench tighter. You’re mesmerized at the thought that Lady Georgina - even a Lady, someone this important - is on her knees for the man she cares for. It makes your heart flutter thinking that you two are the same in that way. The fluttering starts to turn to a heavy thudding in your chest as Joel continues on, describing Lady Georgina grabbing at Mr. Buxton’s cock with her hands, just as you’ve done before, too, you think with a warm face and awestruck eyes. 

Your hand moves absentmindedly along Joel’s bulging crotch as he’d silently instructed you to do, and he’s even wavering or batting an eye at the sensation, simply enjoying the slow buildup of it all. Joel is simply smirking wider with every word he reads, ready to see your reaction to what he knows is coming. 

Her mouth hovers closer, Mr. Buxton’s manhood a salty taste as her tongue envelops him -

Your hand that isn’t stroking him starts to tap at his leg rapidly, vying for his attention. Your eyes dart around his face and then down to the cover of the book and back up, your mouth hanging open as you try to understand. 

“Daddy… ?” you interrupt him, knowing it's wrong, against his rules, but you’re desperate to understand. “Wh-“ you try to stutter out, only to have Joel ignore you for the moment. 

Her warm mouth takes him in, the pleasure overwhelming the both of them as Mr. Buxton gasps out his Lady’s name in ecstasy -

“Sir?” You tap again, repeated little flits of your fingers against his solid thigh. Joel’s smirk turns a little sinister as he continues reading, Lady Georgina’s head starting to bob rapidly on Mr. Buxton’s ‘member’, and that’s when you call out again, making Joel stop. 

“Somethin’ the matter, sweetheart?” he asks with an innocent tilt of his head, knowing damn well exactly what you want. Joel has been holding on to a little secret, one he hadn’t quite figured out the right timing for revealing yet. He’d dreamt repeatedly of your perfect lips wrapped around his thick cock for weeks now, practically since the moment he’d met you. But it was a… delicate situation, he knew, that doing what he wanted to do to your sweet little face and mouth may have scared the hell out of you if he’d pushed it too early. He typically wasn’t too worried about scaring you, but it was just that he’d wanted this to be… perfect. The moment he was dreaming of. What he’d waited all this time for - his perfect girl gagged by his cock, her face open and ready for him to fuck it, choking all over him and watching her love it. By your recent good behavior, the way you moan and quiver every time he touches you now with no resistance anymore, he had a feeling you would in fact, love it. 

The opportunity that fell into his lap - hopefully quite literally - tonight had been too good to pass up. He figured you’d be expecting the characters to kiss or even fuck, concepts he knew you’d become much more acquainted with thanks to him. But to surprise you with this, get you all worked up and curious, was absolutely priceless. And just happened to make his cock painfully hard.

“What, baby?” he asks, a rush of amusement filling him at your scrunched up brows, your mouth hanging open just the tiniest bit while you sit up ramrod straight on your knees now. 

“Daddy they’re…? Is she putting her mouth down there?” you ask with urgency, flitting your eyes to where your now stilled hand rests on top of his aching cock. You’d had to get used to the idea of Joel’s lips in your most intimate areas, but the thought of that? Your mind boggled at it. Joel was so large, so wide, that you’d never even thought of him being in your mouth, now wondering if there could even be room in there. You thought maybe the way he enjoyed lapping and sucking at your cunt was special, that maybe people didn’t always do that - you’d certainly never heard of any kind of fornicating like that. Although you supposed you hadn’t heard much at all besides hushed whispers until Joel. 

He gives you a curt nod. “Mhm, she is, baby. What, you didn’t know about suckin’ cock?” he asks like it would have been an everyday occurrence for you, leaning forward in the chair with a coy smirk. 

Your brows pinch. “‘Course not, you know that,” you snip a little more harshly than you’d intended at his pointed jesting. You hate this constant feeling of embarrassment even though Joel has given you no reason to feel that way. In fact, he’s always supportive, he’s talked you through everything, almost seeming excited by how little you’d known. He’d even told you as much, but you still can’t shake the frustration that you feel so far behind him.

Joel bristles a little at your tone. “Watch your mouth, little one, or this won’t be as fun for you as it could be,” he says, tone now lower and giving some of that bite that settles fear deep in your stomach.

“W-what… won’t be…” you ask after swallowing hard, folding your hands in your lap, trying to look the picture of subservience for him.

Joel gives you a conceited grin, closing the book and setting it aside. “Think you know damn well what,” he replies, leaning forward a little more, his rough hand grazing your blazing cheeks. You’re shrinking under the intensity of his stare, now, barely able to keep your eyes on his. “Gonna get this pretty mouth on my cock tonight, aren’t we?” Joel’s finger’s slip down to your mouth, toying with your bottom lip. “Open up,” he demands, pressing his index finger to the center of your lip.

You crack your lips open the slightest bit only to feel Joel’s finger slip inside, the tiniest huff escaping him as he feels how wet and silky your tongue is as it laps at his finger. “Close. And suck,” he commands next, and you do, wrapping your lips around it, trying to suck a little bit. 

“Good girl, look at this mouth,” Joel coos, using his free hand to start undoing the tie on his pajama bottoms, tugging the waistband down slightly, revealing the curls of hair that travel downward. You feel nerves pool in your belly, your entire body on fire at how erotic it feels to have his finger slipping in and out of your mouth, how wet and warm everything is. “Know you’re curious, sugar, my curious little girl never had a cock in her mouth, did she?”

You shake your head, a quiet mm-mm around his finger as he shoves a second one in, pushing them further back down your throat. With his other hand he finishes tugging his pajama pants down, his hard cock slapping out, the hard length of it so imposing, especially from this angle. It makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand up, goosebumps cropping up along your flesh. You’re simultaneously hot and cold with nerves, not understanding how any of this could possibly work.  

“No, she hasn’t,” he says, a sorrowful, condescending tone to it. “But she’s gonna be a good girl for daddy and take it down her throat, ain’t she?”

You stutter around his fingers, your heart hammering hard against your rib cage. Joel’s brow quirks at your lack of enthusiastic nodding to his question, what he had come to expect with how well trained you had become these days. 

He shoves his two fingers in a little further, sliding them in and out, just short of making you gag, and he smiles when he sees your eyes tear up. “Don’t think you should be nodding right now? Sayin’ ‘yes, daddy’ while drool falls out ‘f your mouth? Hm?” His fingers slip out with a wet pop and he smears your lips with saliva. Despite the words, the rough, degrading treatment, his eyes shine for you. They’re so caring, that dark, dark brown looking back at your terrified expression. 

“Will I like it?” you ask as you look up at Joel through your lashes, your voice a strained whisper. Joel cups your cheek in his hand, gentle fingers attempting to sooth you. 

“I really think you’ll like it a lot, sweetheart,” Joel says honestly, already picturing the entire scene so vividly in his head. Whether you like it or not, or even notice it, you get off on being submissive to him, and with the plans he has for you… he nearly shudders at the soon to come image of you choked and fucked out on his cock. 

You nod, a tiny act of submission, agreement. Your hand on his thigh slides up slightly, just grazing the underside of his cock and Joel inhales a sharp breath. The tip leaks a bead of precum, begging for your mouth to be on it. “Daddy… I don’t know if it will… it’s big…” you sputter out finally, fearing any consequences for even trying to question him, especially on a topic he knows much more about than you do. 

Joel isn’t deterred in the slightest though, his lips turning up at your sweet demeanor, your futile concerns that he already knows will be irrelevant in just a few mere seconds. 

“Oh, darlin’…” he tuts softly, fingers curling underneath your chin, tipping it upwards. “We’ll make it fit.”

smother - part xii: liberation

dark!joel x f!reader

series masterlist | main masterlist | ao3 | kofi

summary: after a haircut and some drunken nonsense, a new adventure begins for you and joel. 13.8k words. chapter warnings: 18+ MDNI! dubcon - stockholm syndrome, innocent reader, big juicy age gap (reader is 19, joel is 55), ddlg/daddy dom! joel, sub!reader, sexual punishment, smut, ass play needs it’s own warning i guess, angst, talk of past trauma (family death and suicide), consumption of alcohol, reader is referred to as a pet, reader wears a collar and leash, reader has hair and outfits are described. if these darker tags aren't your cup of tea please keep scrolling - i'm not responsible for the content you consume! a/n: what an insane time for that long haired joel photo to drop, it lines up a little too perfectly with this chapter. but damn y'all, this one really got away from me, i fear. 13.8k??? i hope you all find it enlightening to see more of why these characters are the way they are. exciting things are coming, though! also big s/o to my irl bestie victoria for help on the album choice, and @janaispunk for being my beta pal 💗

Slow and sweet. 

The way that Joel had taken you after he’d woken up next to the hot springs, cradling you in his arms before dipping between your legs. Slowly and sweetly running his tongue through your folds, slicker by the second for him as his mouth danced along your lips, suckling on your aching clit until you moaned and shuddered softly, surrendering to him. Slow and sweet as he pulled himself up, entering you with a tenderness he didn’t even afford you on your first time with a man, with him. 

You can’t help but shake underneath his closely pressed body at the intensity of his gaze, the slow, languid movements of his throbbing length while his lips press to yours in desperate, wet smacks. When you come again, pulsing around his cock, he holds you so tenderly you think you might just melt into the very ground below you. Your slow and sweet Joel, words nobody else would ever use to describe him, trying so hard to show you he cares, guilt coursing through his veins at the way he’s hurt you and will continue to do so long as you two are together. But neither one of you wants anything different, the pain now an understood bargain for a life spent together. 

Slow. Sweet. Steady. Joel’s hand clasped tightly in yours as you navigate back to the cabin in the impending darkness as the sun quickly sets. His eyes are still distracted, his hurt and anger with himself palpable in his very skin that touches yours, but you understand him now. How badly he wants only to protect you, to give his life new purpose by being able to care for you in that way - a home and safety. A provider. It gave you the sense that this was where Joel naturally fell, and as you gazed upon his back while you walked behind him, his hair curling down his neck, longer than you’d ever seen it, you found yourself on the cusp of accepting who he is. 

The days became much like they used to - slow and sweet - when you arrived home with him, only Joel had his moments where you could see that distant flash in his eyes, feel the rustle of the bed as he got up to do a quick sweep of the property. Sometimes you followed him out, sat with him on the porch for a while where he let you this time, breathing in the night air. Or you would wait right by the window in the kitchen where you could see him walk by on his full circle around the surrounding woods, ears perked and ready with a gun in his hand. Once sated that his fears were unfounded, he’d crawl back to bed with you and simply hold you or kiss you, some nights fucking you with deep, body splitting thrusts until you could both sleep again, his cock softening inside of you. The patrolling stints of his slowly started to taper over the weeks, but you knew this was something that was part of him now that your sanctuary had been breached once, the perfect, protected bubble you’d shared burst.

You spent the days together again around the cabin and in the garden with Joel in much better spirits, nights back in the living room reading, and it felt so good to find that new normal again, that thing you’d thought you had lost forever, now more precious than ever. You started frequently begging to go back to the hot springs as soon as possible, bringing it up often enough with pouting lips that Joel finally broke down, taking you on another hike out there. You spent the entire day swimming, snacking, books in hand and wild love in your heart. 

“Jus’ wait until summer. You’ll be sweatin’ in here, beggin’ to go to the river instead,” he’d said teasingly after you splashed at where he sat along the edge, catching your ears and sending you whipping your head towards him. There’s a river, too? you’d exclaimed happily, solidifying your upcoming summer plans, already imagining lazy, hot days to come in your mind with Joel. Cool swims after bodies slick with sweat from hiking or joining them together under the shade of a nearby tree, an abundance of berries filling your belly, happy, carefree days with the man you love. Love love love. You say it in your head all the time, rolling it over the grooves of your mind, trying it on for size to find that it still rings true. Maybe you don’t know what love is, like Joel said, but this feels as close as you could get. 

You get lost in the fantasy of it all, picturing just what each season will bring the two of you that you haven’t seen yet. Life is good. Life could stay good. It was safe and beautiful and calm again.

Several days ago he’d broken the news to you. Come to you with weary eyes, like he’d been toiling over the decision more heavily than was necessary. His words were unsurprising, it had been obvious - you’d actually been wondering about the same thing for a while as you watched your supplies dwindling, wondering on when he’d finally bring it up because you hadn’t dared ask. But the sting of his words was still sharp, the nerves settling in swiftly when he confirmed it for you. 

“Been havin’ to think real hard about this, an’…” he’d trailed off, frustrated hand raked through his beard. “We can’t go much longer without our usual things an’ well… can’t leave you by yourself anymore. We both know that.”

It was true, Joel hardly ever let you out of his sight anymore. He’d even taken to having you tag along on his hunting trips, something he’d always been adamant to leave you behind for in the past. But the last few times, you’d been dragged out into the surrounding woods with him, quiet as a mouse just as he ordered you to. 

“You stick to me like god damned glue unless I say so. An’ you don’t want to find out what’ll happen if you don’t, got it? Repeat it.” he’d coarsely instructed you on that first outing, you too terrified to say or do anything other than repeat it back and stand there - a silent, immovable object as he took his shots, and an obedient little pet following him when he needed to move. You suppose it had worked out, both times Joel had managed to get a deer, feeding the two of you for days off of it, but you know it wasn’t enough. Not for Joel. For himself, he could live off of deer, whatever few things he could grow in the garden, and be satisfied. But for you, he’d always wanted more. To give it all to you, to spoil you. Which was why your nearly empty fridge, fifth day of venison in a row had him looking torn, his mind distracted. 

You had both learned that you could handle being out in the woods with him, hunting or hiking to the hot springs, but what he was bringing to you was different. Your increasingly wide eyed stare after he’d sat you down and told you that he couldn’t leave you alone was questioning, seeking confirmation on what you feared he was saying, prompting him onwards. 

He sighs, deep and heavy, the words reluctant to come out but you can hear them before he even speaks. “You’ve just got to come with me.”

Your initial reaction had been worry, fear stealing the breath from your lungs, clinging to him almost violently with grasping hands that he’d pried off and shushed you. Then the excitement came, the thoughts of being out in the real world again, or maybe for the first time in your life. You couldn’t be sure if you considered where you grew up real anymore, phony people and phony tactics to keep you docile and perfect. You pondered what it would feel like to be outside of this bubble, the comfort you’d grown too used to now - it’s strange just how quickly humans adapt to things, accept certain things that maybe they shouldn’t. 

You had visions of Jackson, seeing them when your nerves and anticipation kept you awake at night, wondering which version you’d conjured in your head it would be most like. In the days that followed, you’d settled on a strange mix of all the emotions, Joel noticing you being a little more quiet than usual when he’d half expected a barrage of questions about the trip, Jackson, the people, anything really.

Your mind is half on one of these daydreams as you watch on while Joel takes his whiskey from the highest shelf in the kitchen, amber liquid sloshing against the sides of the bottle as he tips and pours it into a crystal glass, the nicest one in the house, reserved for when daddy has his special drink. He holds it so delicately for such rough fingers as he traipses over to where you lay sprawled on the couch, waiting for your nighttime routine of reading after your showers. Joel comes straight to you instead of the bookshelves, taking a long sip from his glass and leaning down to set it on the coffee table. 

“Scooch,” he says, squeezing your shin, causing you to do a dramatic lift and swing of your legs, making room for him to sit down. You plop your legs back down into his lap to teasingly trap him, quickly captured by Joel’s strong arms squeezing them together and holding them down, making you squirm with elated giggles. 

“Daddy!” you yell out playfully, trying to kick against him. “Let me go!”

He chuckles, giving your feet a quick squeeze, tickling them as you thrash wildly against his hold. When he lets go, you swing your body upwards, sliding your legs on either side of his lap to straddle him, laughing. You dive in, arms around his neck, face planted into the crook between his shoulder and neck before you kiss him over and over along the skin there, still warm and damp from his shower as it hits your lips. 

“Are you attackin’ me with… kisses?” Joel asks through his rough laughter, tugging you back by the collar to gaze into your eyes. You nod proudly, fighting against him when he suddenly lets go, your head flying towards his where he captures you in a deep kiss. 

“You better watch it,” he scolds tauntingly with his forehead against yours. Your fingers thread through his still wet hair, slicked back, unruly curls between your fingertips. 

“Your hair is so long, daddy,” you observe, getting a raise of his brows as he settles his hands on your hips. “Who cuts it normally? Just you?”

He seems a little surprised at your questioning, brows staying raised high. “Mm, usually talk someone into doin’ it in Jackson, or m’self I guess,” he answers with a little shrug. 

You slip more strands through your fingers, peering past his eyeline to watch it curl far down his neck. “Hmm. It’s too long,” you decide with an observant tilt of your head, and Joel quickly snorts out a laugh, tightening his hold on your hips.

“Oh, is that so?” he asks with another chuckle, shooting you a warning glance with a squeeze against your skin. He always gets a sparkle in his eye, an intrigued twinkle every time you show him any kind of sass, and despite the risks, it usually urges you on to keep teasing him.

You give him a shy smile, continuing to twirl his hair around your fingers, scratching against his scalp and making him hum quietly when you dig in a little. “Well, do you like it like this, daddy?”

“Seems like you don’t,” he says, rough and playful, but you shake your head. 

“N-no, I kind of do. It’s so… curly. But I figured it was shorter when I met you, a-and I hadn’t seen it cut since then…”

He gives you a small, lopsided smile. “S’ too long, I’ll give ya that,” he says, reaching one of his hands to where yours is buried in his hair, threading his fingers through yours to feel the length of his hair. “Why’re you goin’ on about this, hm? You want to cut it, princess?”

You bite your lip, pulling the top one into your mouth and giving him a timid glance before you nod. “I was hoping so, yeah. I-if you’d want me to…” you say quietly. 

“You ever cut a man’s hair before?” he asks, leaning forward to press a soft kiss to your lips, and you nod into it. 

“Yes, daddy, lots of times, I had to practice for my future… uh, husband…” you say the last word hushed with a growing heat in your cheeks, unsure of how Joel will feel about it. Both the insinuation of what he is to you if you cut his hair and the fact that you could have been promised to another just before everything had gone to shit in your community. Of the things you know about Joel, he’s never failed to be possessive of the things that belong to him. 

But he only keeps up the soft smirk, another kiss to your lips before he pulls you back, confident in knowing who you’ve pledged yourself to. “Show me what you got, then.”

You set up in the kitchen, Joel sipping from his drink as you hover behind him, circling the dining chair with nervous energy. The shears are in your hands, not in the best shape but they should do the job well enough, and yet you can’t get yourself to do the first cut. 

“Ain’t got all night, sweetheart,” Joel scolds lightly, forcing you to blink out of your nervous haze. 

“I-I’m sorry, I just wanna do it right for you, daddy,” you blurt out, repositioning yourself and fiddling with the ends of his hair. It’s so intimate, for all the times you’ve raked your fingers through it in the heat of the moment or when the two of you are cuddling, this feels different - more personal, more trusting of you, the ability to look closely at his strands and see the peppering of gray amongst his dark. 

He turns his head, enough for you to catch a glimpse of him, his dark eyes meeting yours. “I trust ya, blossom,” he says with a curt nod. “Jus’ do it if you’re gonna do it, yeah?”

You perk up a little, standing up straighter, confidence brewing in your gut. “Y-yeah,” you push out, giving him a small smile before he turns back. 

Once you start, the vision comes right back to you, getting his hair back to that length it had been all those months ago. You can picture it, picture him, outside in his flannel shirt, axe in hand, the hard yet curious look on his face. You feel your cheeks getting warm as you realize just how attractive and intriguing you’d found him even back then, unable to peel your eyes from his muscles and dark features, those critical, alluring eyes. Knowing you shouldn’t have found this older, risk laden stranger attractive had only made it that much harder to pull yourself away when you should have. 

“You like it how you had it… back then?” you ask quietly, starting to snip a small amount of length from the bottom, watching the hairs trickle down to the wood planks beneath your feet. 

“Mhm, sure, baby. I don’t really pay too much mind to it, if I’m honest,” he says as you comb your fingers through his thick strands, shaking it out a little. “Did you like it?” he asks with a teasing lilt after you snip a few more bits off the ends. You flush hot, cheeks burning all the way up to your ears as you give a small nod he can’t see behind his head. 

“Y-yes…” you say, your voice trailing off into a hushed whisper and Joel chuckles softly. 

“You always thought daddy was handsome, didn’t you? Didn’t have to train that one into you, huh?” Joel asks, clearly sounding overly pleased with himself as he calls out your hidden truth. It makes your stomach jump and lurch, face burning hotter at your inability to remain unobvious. It’s hard to know if Joel appreciates knowing these things, or if you just look pathetic in front of him. 

“Yes,” you admit quietly as you cut, the soft snip of the scissors filling the quiet tenseness around you that follows. You can feel Joel’s smirk, the cockiness permeating the air as he takes in just how much he still makes you nervous. 

“And… what was the first thing you noticed ‘bout me, princess? Hm?”

You bite your lip, willing your cheeks to stop burning so intensely hot, the sensation spreading, sending your skin tingling at his low, sensuous tone. “I- uh-“

“Was it my… hair? My eyes? What I was wearin’?”

You shake your head. “No… well your eyes, yeah, kind of…” you sputter out, steadying your trembling hand before making another expert cut, seeing Joel’s trimmed hair taking shape now. 

“But..? What?” he asks, licking his lips, feeling himself getting half hard at this teasing, his briefs going a little tighter around his cock. 

“Your… muscles,” you say, breathing out with a tiny giggle at how tense you’ve been that Joel matches with an amused huff of his own. You see him smiling as you come around to his front, shyly smirking at him as you take strands at the front of his face to begin cutting.

“An’ you like daddy’s muscles still? Like watchin’ me workin’?” You nod dumbly in response. “Cutting wood? Keepin’ this place runnin’?” Another nod. He grabs your wrist in his hand tightly, showing off said muscles in his t-shirt as he reaches around and grabs your ass with the other. “When I’m fuckin’ your tight little cunt? Like my muscles then?”

Your breath hitches, a gush of warmth between your thighs, tingling all over your entire body. Hot heat envelops you down to your very nerves and you can only nod, keeping eye contact with Joel as his lips curl up. 

“Keep on goin’,” he says, letting go, his hands falling to his sides and settling back in to let you continue. You’re frozen for a moment before breathing out a long, shaky exhale, unsure of what to do with yourself. You’re feeling desperation pulling inside your belly for Joel to fill you, make you come, but you know these things are all always on his terms. Maybe he’ll reward you for getting through this haircut without a hitch, answering all his dirty questions along the way. 

“What do you like best about daddy now, hm?” he asks as you snip along his front and sides, checking the evenness along the way with a crouch in front of him where Joel unashamedly peers down your dress as it gapes open in the front. 

“I like… hm…” you start, pausing with a bit lip and shears held upwards, your hip popping to the side as you think. “I think I like how you always take care of me,” you decide on with a delicate smile, realizing it truly is what you appreciate most about him. 

“Yeah? Thas’ sweet, honey,” Joel says sincerely, his eyes softening and lighting up while you keep cutting. “What about physically, huh? What about daddy turns you on?” he asks next, his voice starting to go gravelly with need. Your breathing comes out in a shaky flutter, thighs feeling the need to clench as you think about all the things about him that turn you on, that turn you into a begging mess, nothing but a sloppy hole for him to fuck as he pleases. 

You pause with the shears over a chunk of hair, hardly able to breathe. You overtly rake your eyes to where his legs are spread wide, to that spot between them that’s clothed with dark gray sweatpants currently starting to tent, then to his face, locking your gaze on his. “Your eyes, daddy,” you say sweetly with a honeyed smile, making Joel’s lips part into a magnificent, open mouthed smirk.

“Naughty,” he says under his breath, pulling his lip inwards and biting it before composing himself, hands gripping tightly onto his thighs, grounding himself. 

“Almost there, daddy,” you tell him, skirting around to his back again, wanting to finish cleaning it up. Joel is patient, reaching forward between snips for a long sip of his whiskey, the glass back to the table once it’s drained empty, his eyes going to the shelf again, wanting a rare refill tonight.

“Done,” you say proudly, combing his hair to check it one last time, the length trimmed back to more of where it was before. You pull the comb through from the front a few times, slicking back his hair a bit. You love when it dries like this, an errant curl tending to fall to his forehead as it does, driving you mad every time. You stand in front of him timidly, watching as he stands up, his presence so big when he’s towering right there, leaning towards you. He presses a peck to your lips, running a hand over the back of his damp hair.

“Sure it looks great, princess,” he says confidently, tilting his head at you before going around you to the shelf, deciding to pour that extra glass while you watch on with wide eyes. “You want your reward for bein’ a good little girl, doin’ a good job and answerin’ all my questions?”

You practically bounce where you stand, giving him a few nods. “Yes please, sir,” you eagerly punch out. He beckons you back to the couch, you right on his heels like the good pet you are, sinking down next to him and curling up close. 

“Your reward is sharin’ daddy’s drink with him. How’s that sound?” Joel asks, tilting the glass towards you, watching your brows twitch together in trepidation. You certainly hadn’t been expecting this - in fact, you’d expected to be half split open by his cock right now with the way he’d been teasing you. You try not to let your disappointment show, your confusion at him offering to share his whiskey after all this time of denying it to you. 

“Oh, I don’t kn - I’ve never…” 

“I know, blossom. That’s why I’m here, makin’ sure you’re okay. Just gonna make you feel a little… different.”

You chew your lip, staring into the glossy, dark liquid as your fingers clutch onto his arm, digging in nervously. “Different how? I’m nervous, daddy. I was told this is bad stuff…”

Joel chuckles quietly, his other hand resting on your thigh starting to rub it. “It ain’t. Not if you’re careful with it, yeah? You’re jus’ gonna feel relaxed and have some fun with daddy.”

You suppose that doesn’t sound too bad, after all, considering you already have fun in your own way with Joel relatively often, thinking adding to that couldn’t hurt. 

“An’ since tomorrow’s a big day, it’ll be good for your nerves,” he adds on, making you recoil slightly. 

“I’m not-“ you start, unsure of why you deny such an obvious fact - it’s not like you’re the best at keeping your emotions tucked away, not like Joel. 

“Yes you are,” he quips back sternly. “So drink.” You turn your lips up and nod more confidently for him, sending him slapping his palm on your thigh. 

“Good girl,” he coos as he pats your plush skin, turning himself and moving the hand from your thigh to grasp at your chin, fingers tucking underneath. “Head back a little, baby,” he says as he helps you tilt it, bringing the glass to your lips. “Woah, slow there, easy,” he says, watching the liquid almost spill over as it passes your lips. 

Your face instantly contorts, scrunching up in displeasure as the bitter liquid washes over your tastebuds and burns your throat the entire way down. You shake your head wildly when Joel tilts the glass to your lips again, a blur of mm-mm’s passing through them as you refuse. 

“Hey, hey, it jus’ takes some getting used to,” he says, fingers stroking your chin now, trying to soothe you. 

“C-can’t believe you like that,” you say with a tiny cough, then smacking your lips, your tongue desperate to get the flavor out of its memory. Joel gives a little shake of his head with a hearty laugh. 

“Like I said, you gotta get a taste for it, yeah? Will you try again for daddy?” he asks, tilting the glass against your lips again. You nod reluctantly, letting the awful, burning liquid slip past your lips again, swallowing it quickly with another tight scrunch of your face.

“That’s a good girl,” Joel says softly, encouraging one more sip before pulling the glass back. “Feelin’ okay?” he asks, and you give him a small nod, your head swimming a little already. The alcohol seems to be burning through you, your insides tingling a bit with a strange, light feeling washing over you. 

“I-I think so,” you tell him. “I feel a little weird.”

“One more, then we’ll take a break,” he tells you, following with the same routine of him tipping the glass to your parted and waiting lips, you sucking down a longer and longer sip each time. Your eyes flutter a little as the tingling, warm feeling spreads again, curious about all the new sensations the whiskey is bringing, your lips turning into more of a smile.

“Attagirl, can see you’re likin’ it more now,” Joel says proudly, setting the glass on the coffee table and standing up, leaving you a little slumped on the couch, starting to feel more dazed. It’s a slow build, but you know your body doesn’t know how to tolerate alcohol just yet, and soon enough you’ll be feeling its full effects.

“Got one more surprise, blossom,” he tells you, walking over to the wall near the bookshelves where a record player sits, always untouched. You assumed it was either broken or Joel disliked music enough to never use it, but it turns out that wasn’t the case at all. “Finally found a record worth a damn for playin’ on my last trip, thought we could put it on tonight, sweetheart.”

You sit up, your body suddenly alert and beaming a little. “Yeah? I-I really like music, but most of the stuff I’ve heard… well…” you trail off, your lips twisting to the side with that strange pang of shame that comes up when you talk about your past. You know Joel understands it, was even the one who brought his concerns about it to you, but you still feel so much hurt, so much confusion about all those years spent with those people you considered family. You push the thought away quickly, brows wrinkling as you shift in your seat.

“It’s hymns? That kind of thing?” Joel asks, and you give him a shy nod. 

“Y-yeah,” you say sheepishly, sitting forward and gripping the glass when Joel’s back is turned as he fiddles with the record player, taking another sip, sneakily setting the glass back down noiselessly. It burns all over again, but you want to start feeling the fun effects of it Joel had promised you. “They were only okay.”

Joel chuckles with a small shake of his head. “Yeah, I’ll bet. This ain’t nothin’ like that,” he says, holding the record up for you to see. Red Headed Stranger is in huge, Western letters printed along the bottom, the album an ornate decor of red and yellow, drawing your eye. “Willie Nelson. This right here is pure gold - old school country music.”

You smile at his rare show of enthusiasm, suddenly feeling another slight wave of pleasant dizziness, like your limbs are getting lighter, everything a bit slower around you. “You liked this one in the before times, daddy?” you ask from across the room and he gives you a curt nod, putting the record on and you hear the distant crackle as it comes through the small speaker. 

As the music starts - a slow, twangy sound - you’re reaching for the glass, bringing it to your lips when Joel turns back around, catching you in the act. You freeze, fear bubbling deep in your gut, but he only smiles, a crooked, knowing little smirk, like he’d half expected you to do this anyways. “Now what do we have here? A bad little girl sneaking her daddy’s drink?” he asks with a lifted brow, approaching you. You throw back the drink despite his eyes on you, sending Joel laughing a genuine chuckle, the sound ringing above the music for a moment.

“Sorry daddy,” you spit out shyly, staring up at him in a way you’ve learned drives him mad, your lip caught between your teeth and eyes wide and blinking.

“Oh, we both know you ain’t,” Joel chortles as he reaches down to tug you up off the couch and into his arms. His hand flies around to your ass, a stinging slap sending you yelping with a giggle. He’s not trying to hurt you, no, if this were a real punishment you’d know - Joel is playing around just as much as you are right now, enjoying the flirtation and the chase of it all. 

“Not really,” you slur out slightly, tilting the glass to your lips yet another time, unsure of how much you really should be drinking. If Joel hasn’t stopped you yet, you figure you’re still in the clear. 

His hand squeezes tight onto your asscheek, holding you so close to him, bringing you right back to the heady memories of cutting his hair earlier, the teasing that went unresolved. He suddenly plucks the glass out of your hand and brings it to his own lips, downing the little bit left and smirking as he swallows. “Enough of that for you. You’re gonna be trouble tonight otherwise.”

You’re drunk. And indeed trouble. 

Dancing in front of where Joel sits on the couch to an upbeat country tune Joel tells you is called Down Yonder with a wild, joyous laugh after you’d asked as you twirl around the living room. He’d decided to refill the glass and let you have more to drink several songs ago, your body able to take it until it wasn’t, the complete drunkenness you’d felt hitting you like a slap in the face when you stood up again. Right before that Joel had taken to sloppily marking your neck, his face a little flushed but nowhere near as far gone as you, only a pleasant buzz coursing through him that was quickly sobering up as he felt himself getting more and more turned on by you. More hungry for you. The less in control you were, the more he could be. So you’d laid back, writhing pleasantly with whining, uninhibited moans while he kissed your neck and lips, both turning raw and puffy from his efforts. 

He hadn’t even been mad at the interruption when the more upbeat song came on, you suddenly desperate to fly off the couch to show him your moves, giggling. Your somehow klutzy gracefulness as you danced, the skirt of your dress flying around you with a huge smile plastered on made him all the more crazy for you. 

“Careful, careful, blossom,” Joel suddenly chides, standing up to come to you, watching you twirling dangerously close to the furniture - the last thing he needs is a huge bruise that you’d whine and wail over.

You slip away just as he nearly grasps at your arm, bounding over to the couch with gleeful steps and flopping down. You throw your legs up over the back of the couch, hanging with your head upside down along the front of the cushions, and Joel can’t help but crack a smile despite your insolence. Your dress rides up, falling gently upwards on your thighs as you kick your legs a little, so close to the sweet pair of little white panties you have on underneath. Adorned with lace and a bow, a picture of innocence compared to the filthy things he wants to do to you tonight. 

“I like you, daddy,” you blurt out playfully, hand clapping over your mouth to suppress your surprised giggle at your open honesty. That damned alcohol. 

Joel steps towards you, smirking, his hulking form more imposing from this low angle where the world hangs upside down in your vision. “I like you too, lil’ blossom,” he says with a chuckle, pausing in front of you, your eyeline right on his legs and you crane your neck to try to look up, almost coming face to face with the growing bulge in his sweatpants. 

You whine sloppily, louder than you’d intended at the sight, fresh heat pooling between your legs. “Kiss me, daddy,” you say with a small giggle, and Joel pauses before starting to move, casually stalking around to the back of the couch. You try to sit up and meet him there with your waiting lips, but Joel’s hands are out in a flash, pinning your ankles where they hang behind the couch so that you can’t move. 

“Kiss you, huh? Where? Kiss you… right here?” he asks, voice going down lower before he presses his lips to your shin. You whimper quietly and shake your head, a strange mix of forlorn begging and laughing. 

“N-no… daddy I just…”

“Here?” Joel interrupts, his head snaking up to your thighs, kissing the top of one before placing another on your inner thigh. He grips tight to your ankles, forcing your legs further apart before he hoists you up higher , bringing your aching, swelling heat closer to his mouth. 

“D-daddy…” you quietly whine, feeling the innocent fun of moments ago fading away, replaced with a tight, dull ache in your core. Your breathing goes shallow, catching in your throat when your legs are pulled again, forcing you higher up along the back of the couch, your body completely at Joel’s mercy as his fingers dig underneath your ass, holding you up so he can get close enough to your cunt. It’s not comfortable by any means, but your attempt to say anything coherent is blocked by your brain, spinning images and words from all the alcohol.

Joel’s nose nudges at the bottom hem of your dress, pushing it up that last inch to reveal your panties, wet wet wet, the fabric clinging to your puffy lips in its soaked state. Joel inhales your arousal deeply and pointedly, sending a shudder through you. “Always my sweetest prize, ain’t you princess?” he growls from between your thighs, his hands having slid up to the plushness there, digging in hard. Everything is starting to hurt from the way you’re positioned but you don’t dare fight against him, ask him to move positions because it could be over at any moment. And your need is screaming at you to get his mouth right where you crave it. 

“You wanted a kiss… here?” Joel asks slyly, ghosting his lips along your already slick seam, pulsing with want. He presses his lips a little harder when your breathing catches into a tiny moan. “That right?”

“I-I- my lips… but… yes…” you slur out, your head getting even more dizzy and frazzled from hanging upside down for so long.

Joel’s breath skitters hot over your core and you whimper. “Yes, who?” he commands, brushing his stubble along your inner thigh, teasing.

“M-master, daddy… please…” you pant out, your hips bucking in his tight hold, pressed down harder. It’s been a while since you’ve used that word, and it has Joel’s body tensing, his blood running hot from hearing you still sharing the sentiment of his ownership all these months later. 

“Master’s little pet,” he growls out, rutting against the couch to satiate even the tiniest bit of need from his stiff cock, the most sinister smirk on his face as you try to peer up at him, your head flopping back down as a pleasant faintness washes over you again. When his tongue licks a stripe up your panties, your eyes roll back, back arching against the couch, wailing out a pathetic moan that you normally might be embarrassed about. But you find right now, whiskey coursing through your bloodstream, you couldn’t care less about much other than Joel’s lips and how much they can do for you.

His mouth closes in, sucking around your clit through your underwear, the duller sensation still enough to send a speedy shudder through you, pleases falling from your lips for him to give you more. 

“Yeah? You want more, honey?” 

Joel’s face falls when instead of an enthusiastic nod, you shake your head. “Daddy, I- it hurts… please, need t’move,” you say, your voice wobbly as it comes out, squirming to try to find a comfortable way for your hanging body. Your head is pounding with the position you’re been held in, skin burning around where his fingers have been holding you in this awkward, unnatural position. Your feet kick into the open air, on pins and needles as they start to fall asleep from the strange angle they’re at. 

You hear Joel’s displeased huff at the same time he lets you go, your body slumping down onto the couch, squirming to try to put yourself right side up. He plods around the furniture, an arm of his underneath your shoulder in a flash, dragging and then lifting you. 

“P-please, sir, I just wanted…” you sputter out when you see his eyes boring into yours, flashing with an insane need, at that point they start to become dangerous, unpredictable. Your head spins as you sit up and then are thrust to your feet by his hold, the whiskey turning a bit sour in your stomach. “K-know y’know best, daddy, ‘m sorry,” you slur as you fall into his hold, clutching onto him. He helps hold you up, letting you lean into his chest with a vice grip around your upper arm keeping you pulled tightly. 

“Ain’t gonna say thank you, daddy? Hm? For any of this?” he snips, shaking your arm a bit as his fingers curl tighter around it. Your eyes squeeze shut, a tiny cry escaping you and you bury yourself into his chest, both your comfort and your fear found in this solid wall of man that you now turn to. “Sharin’ my drink, gettin’ you all wet, halfway to fuckin’ you an’ you whine and complain,” he huffs, tugging you so that you pull away slightly from where you’ve been trying to soothe yourself against the softness of his t-shirt.

“‘M’sorry, daddy … I feel f-fuzzy… I couldn’t…” you slur, your world spinning even behind your shut eyes. “I-uh- I… thank you..” 

“Ungrateful,” he mutters under his breath at your apology, your body on the move now as he starts to back you up, your legs having no choice but to take the few steps until the back of your thighs bump the couch, feeling the armrest behind you. Your eyes fly open, blinking desperately while you look at Joel’s expression for any clues of what’s to come. It’s stony, determined, a recognizable coldness there that sends a shiver through you.

“Daddy…?” you ask quietly, your voice tiny and sweet, but his eyes narrow as he smirks, putting a hand up to your face and stroking your cheek. He continues to slowly push you with his body, giving you no choice but to plunk down onto the armrest, falling backwards a little as your hands grasp at anything, one planting in front of you and the other catching on the front of Joel’s shirt. He tears your hand off of his shirt, setting it where your other is holding you steady, settling you into a straddling position over the top of the armrest. Your chest heaves when Joel leans in closer, thumbing your chin with his free hand, teeth revealed in a sneer.

“You still want to get off, princess? Hm? Pussy still achin’ f’me?”

Your lips tremble, quivering as you hold back drunken tears, Joel’s face swimming in front of yours, unable to get a grip on really anything at the moment - unsteady in your grasp on the fabric of the sofa, mouth parted open, unable to speak.

“Need some manners knocked into you tonight, girl. Damn whiskey made you think you run this place, did it?” Joel finally says when you don’t answer him after several beats. He smiles at your trembling form - disheveled, dress wrinkled, fresh marks from earlier taking beautiful form on your neck: hickeys showing the world just whose whore you are. His perfect little whore, his little plaything, his. Joel’s mind feels on the cusp of something dark, practically vibrating as the sick little fantasy runs through his head - anyone seeing you knowing, eyes wide at the damage he’s done to your poor skin but undoubtedly knowing where you belong: at his side. “Turn the fuck around.”

You startle, seeming to gain back a tiny shred of autonomy. “S-sir… I- yes, I want it, I’m sorry,” you finally blurt out, finding your voice amid his threats.

“Then you’re gonna have to earn it, work for it,” he says bitingly, standing back with hands propped on his hips. “Turn. Around.”

Your legs shake as you nod fervently, picking yourself up and turning around, stumbling along the way as your head continues to spin from the alcohol. You perch yourself the same way on the arm rest, just with your ass facing him now. “L-like this, daddy?”

“Jus’ like that, baby. Can see your pretty ass now, can’t I?” he replies a little lighter, some of the darkness shooed away by your quick obedience. You just nod, Joel watching the back of your head bob a few times before you glance over your shoulder to him with wide, scared eyes.

“It’s okay, it’s okay…” he coos, reaching forward and running his fingers down your spine, branching off to stroke your left ass cheek. “You need to jus’ have a little lesson right now, sweetheart. Daddy will teach you not to be so ungrateful.”

“B-but, ‘m not,” you slur, shuddering as his hands pull your dress up, showing your ass clad in those white panties, the fabric only covering half of your cheeks when they’re spread across the armrest like this. His finger slides along your panties, tracing your ass crack, his finger suddenly prods your previously neglected hole and you tense up, feeling a sobering rush pass through you. “N-no! Thank you! Thank you, daddy! See?!” you cry out desperately, hoping to make up for the sin of apparently not being grateful to be eaten out in a position that had you halfway to getting sick all over yourself in your drunken state.

“Shh…” Joel prods a little harder, finger tracing circles around the hole now, not pushing inside, but enough stimulation that it sends a terrified jolt through you. “Y’know this belongs to me too, sweetheart,” he tells you, and you swallow hard, rocking your hips instinctively to move away from the touch, catching that sensitive bundle of nerves between your thighs on something incredible, something so delicious that you have to fight the urge to do it again. You try to hold back your whine, but Joel had already seen your body twitch, transfixed on it.

“That’s right, baby. Daddy wants you to work for it, honey, gonna get yourself off while daddy has his fun,” Joel says, gripping your hip with his left hand and urging you forward again, making that same rocking motion that pulls a morsel of relief from your blazing body, your cunt so achy with need it’s been driving you insane, even despite Joel’s cruel words these last few minutes.

“Harder,” he commands when he sees your hips moving too delicately, so self conscious as he watches on, palms rubbing on your ass, giving it light pats just to watch the flesh there jiggle and bounce. 

You glance back at him, picking up the pace, watching his eyes fixed on your ass, the way you move against the old, plaid fabric of the couch. You start to moan quietly, rolling your hips in just the right way to satiate your need, the relief of it overwhelming as it builds up a dull, pleasant tingling deep inside of you. Joel’s fingers hook onto your panties, trying to pull them down, your body accommodating him by lifting your hips just right for him to shimmy them down, leaving them pooling at one ankle once your legs are through.

“Need to see you makin’ a mess, blossom, there we go,” Joel says, forcefully pushing your hips back down to the armrest, your moans even louder now as you give in to it all, hips moving immodestly without shame along the couch. 

“Daaaddy…” you whimper quietly when his finger gently traces along your ass again, moving towards your tight hole. You feel fear pulse through you, not sure you understand the intention behind it, that it’s even a viable option to be something sexual, but Joel has always been more in the know than you when it comes to these things. His pointer finger dips to your slit, letting you ride his digit for a few moments as your legs go shaky, twitching slightly as he stimulates your clit along with the couch, gathering up slickness. Satisfied, he slips it backwards, gently creeping his way further towards your asshole, the wetness coating between your cheeks and he pushes his way in. 

“I- I- daddy…?” you question urgently, fearful of making him feel like you don’t trust him, a serious punishment already half looming, but in this moment, you’re not entirely sure what the hell he’s doing. Your chest goes tight, holding your breath without realizing it. 

Joel’s other hand trails relaxing movements along your ass cheek, trying to calm you. “Jus’ relax, blossom, it’ll go in easier that way. Keep on makin’ yourself feel good.”

You swallow hard and continue to grind on the arm of the couch trying to turn your shaky breaths more even as you feel his thick digit breach your tight asshole, so untouched that Joel finds it hard to control himself, remembering to keep it to one knuckle at a time. He can feel you relaxing, struggling to wrangle with your feelings and the new sensation together, but you quietly sigh as you adjust and his finger moves the slightest bit inside of you. 

“Jus’ the one finger today, daddy promises,” he speaks softly, wriggling it in a little further, sending a tiny gasp out of your mouth. “That’s right…” Joel coos, face twisting into a devious smirk when he catches the way your lips pop open from your side profile as you try to turn and look back at him. 

“How’s that, princess, hm? Daddy feels good right now, huh?”

You nod, mouth still hanging open as his finger starts to pump slowly, just the one knuckle in and out until he tries a little more, making you whimper. “F-feels good…” you moan, hips picking up the pace as you chase your high. 

“Good,” Joel says simply, retreating the finger and leaving you slumping over slightly, already missing the strange, full sensation in such a new place. He steps into your view, coming around to your front with his cock already out, pumping his fist along it for several strokes. He taps the thick, leaking head of it on your cheek, your lips already parting and waiting, not an unusual routine for the two of you when Joel wants himself in your mouth.

“Oh, you’re actin’ extra good ‘cause daddy’s upset, aren’t ya?” he coos condescendingly. “Got your mouth ready and waitin’ like daddy’s good little whore…” You nod and he drags his cock across your cheek, inwards to where he circles your lips with it, spreading his precum, your tongue desperate to dart out and taste it, taste him - the man you worship to no end, aching to just pleasure him in any way possible. “Pretty…” he murmurs as he pushes inward, your mouth starting to open wide, wider, painfully at its widest as he fills your mouth. 

It hurts like hell, but the burn makes you feel alive, something you’d never felt before Joel showed it to you. Your drool already pools around his length, dripping down, the scene so lewd you can only imagine how it looks from Joel’s angle. 

“Didn’t tell you that you could stop,” he snips as soon as he notices that your hips haven’t been moving along the armrest, the pursuit of your own high given up when Joel had begun to seek his. His hand lands on the back of your head, helping guide himself a bit further, starting the bobbing motion that helps you take him a little deeper each time, he’s noticed. It’ll always be a stretch for you, but like most things, he’s determined to train you to the best of his abilities. 

Your hips stutter along the couch, eyes rolling back as the pleasure hits you over again. You’re more shameless now, something about the depraved condition you’re in making you groan and whine pathetically around Joel’s cock as your hips rock in quicker spasms, your clit puffy and aching for release. 

“That’s it… you take this cock like such a good fuckin’ pet, blossom. Takin’ your little lesson so good…” Joel praises you as he gazes down at your lips stretched wide around him. You moan higher and higher pitched around Joel’s cock as it slides in and out of your mouth, a sure sign that you’re close. You look terrified, desperate at the thought of coming without his permission, and Joel decides to have mercy on you. 

“Come for daddy, go ahead if you need to,” he says, and sure enough, he watches the beautiful thing that is you falling apart at his words, his command sending you over the edge as you twitch and bear down on the armrest, groaning with your mouth still stuffed full. You’re limp, Joel’s hands doing all the work for you as it pushes your head up and down on his cock, your mouth only a vessel at this point before he spills down your throat, gagging you at the last moment with only pure satisfaction in his eyes. 

“Thas’ good, thas’ perfect, baby,” he concludes, petting the back of your head as he slides out of your mouth, sending you falling forward a bit, head bowed with relief. 

You’re still hazy in your tipsy state, unsure exactly how the two of you ended up on the floor, entwined with each other. Joel has laid out blankets and pillows, you closing your eyes to stop the soft spinning of the world around you as you try to sober up a bit. Joel’s fingers are sweet as honey now, more than making up for his cruel treatment. He traces lines down your arms, swirling his fingers along the top of your chest, skating over your hips, turning you into his own personal altar before he lazily slides his fingers between your legs. You don’t even feel his intention is to make you come, but just to keep you feeling a dull ache of pleasure as he gently strokes your puffy, still wet lips.

“Y’feel good, daddy,” you say groggily, peeking your eyes open to look at where he lays next to you, propped up on one arm to face you, other hand still out of sight buried deep in your thighs. The world has stopped spinning for the most part, and you’re grateful you can look at him now without feeling sick.

A tiny twitch takes over you when he thumbs your clit, then moves his hands back to your hips, starting the process all over again, letting his fingers wander to all unexplored corners of your body. “Yeah? You like when daddy is bein’ nice, don’t you?”

You give him a tired huff of laughter and nod, turning a little more to face him properly. “Yeah, but… earlier was okay, too,” you tell him shyly, eyes averted past him to the small, wood burning fireplace, too hot to be lit tonight.

Joel smirks, brows twitching upwards at your confession. He’d gathered that you got off on both things - his gentle side in moments like this, but also to his surprise, degradation. He loved to give both to you just as much as you loved to receive it. “So you like daddy bein’ mean too, that it?”

“I like… all of it,” you confess, giving him a languid half smile with lazy, slow blinks in his direction. 

“I like all of it, too, honey,” he replies, and you look into his eyes, getting the sense that he means it. He sighs suddenly, his fingers moving to your cheek, so soft beneath him that it’s his own personal form of heaven, how soft and supple you are all over, almost hard to believe sometimes that something as special as you would keen at his touch.

“Y’know, baby,” Joel starts solemnly. “Tomorrow is gonna change things.” His words are too vague, cryptic, and you just stare at him, swallowing hard as anxiety creeps in along your features, eyes filling with dread. “Do you understand what I mean?”

You shake your head softly. “I don’t know, daddy.” Your hand moves, a little shaky as it grabs onto where his still sits on your cheek.

“The world ain’t built to, well, accept people like us, yeah?” Upon giving him the same unsure look, he goes on. “I don’t expect that we’re gonna be given a warm welcome when they see us together. It’s… unusual. Surely you have to know that, blossom.”

You twist your lips to the side, your eyes suddenly feeling a pull behind them, hot, prickling tears pooling. “I don’t… I mean… I guess so, daddy. I just thought maybe the way I grew up was abnormal, after what you said about it.”

Joel shakes his head, then it turns to a shrug. “Well, in a sense, yes, darlin’. They were abnormal there, sounds like. But their wantin’ to have a good wife and husband, perfect family, everyone in their righteous places ‘n such, that’s how a lot of the world works. An’ probably a lot of people there in Jackson feel that same way.”

“So… they’ll think we’re… what? Bad? W-weird? What, daddy?” Your voice comes out slightly more urgent, shaking as you fear what he’s about to tell you. You wish you could close your ears, go back and never have to have this conversation, be confronted with things that deep down, you’d known were true, but were too caught up in wanting to make the most of things here with Joel to really reflect upon.

“Wrong. They’ll think we’re wrong, blossom.”

The words hit you heavily, your shoulders falling, feeling like you’re sinking into the floor below you as your heart races and head starts to spin a little again. “Do you? Think we’re wrong, daddy?” you ask, voice hoarse and quiet now as you barely get the words out.

“Oh, baby, I d-” he starts, pressing his lips together sympathetically. “I don’t know. No, not really. This is all I ever wanted, sweetheart. How could it be wrong when we both like it so much?”

His positive swing upwards makes you smile a little, giving him a nod. “Yeah, that’s true,” you say thoughtfully. “I like it. I like… this…” you say, reaching up to touch your collar, tracing along the curve of it. “I like being good for you.”

Joel leans over, kissing your forehead tenderly, pushing all the affection he can muster into it. “I know you do, baby. And daddy appreciates it so much. We jus’ gotta be prepared for people to not be acceptin’ of what we have, not see that it’s good for us, right?”

Your smile grows. “Right,” you say more confidently. 

“They don’t know that we got somethin’ special, do they? That daddy and his blossom are meant for each other, huh?” he asks, starting to tease, that slight bit of talking down to you, of showing your age compared to his always making you so pliant for him. You giggle a little, tucking your head closer to Joel, loving the way he describes just how special you are to him, something you don’t get to hear very often.

“Yes, daddy, they don’t know,” you confirm, nodding into his chest. They really don’t, you think confidently to yourself, and you’re prepared to show them.

Birdsong coming in through the wide open windows in the kitchen, usually a welcome delight, feels distracting and grating this morning as you stare out, watching the blooming day, early morning oranges and yellows shining through the trees. Your hands clutched around the warm mug of your tea start to itch, almost like you’re crawling out of your skin. You don’t hear him the first time, his heavy footfall coming back up the porch and inside, calling for you. 

“Did you hear me?” he asks, knocking on the wood of the table. Your gaze flies from where you’d been staring out the window at nothing in particular, lost somewhere deep in your mind. 

“S-sorry, sir,” you say, clearing your head with a quick shake. 

“Said we’re ready to go,” Joel says, repeating himself. “You finish that?” he asks, peering down at your mug. 

“No… sorry,” you say again, picking up the mug and downing the rest, the strange, medicinal taste having grown on you over the months but never something necessarily pleasant to drink. 

“Soundin’ like a broken record in here,” Joel says, brows raised as he snatches the cup out of your hand, starting a quick rinse on it. 

“Sor-“ you cut yourself off at the light glare over his shoulder, smiling softly. “I’m ready,” you say instead. 

“An’ you got everythin we talked about? Only one outfit in your bag, right? No need to pack heavier than necessary,” Joel says practically, striding to the front door and handing you your backpack, filled with only a few things. One extra piece of clothing, socks, and underwear, then the specified toiletries he allowed which were only the basics. No need to pack like you’re goin’ on a luxury vacation, sweetheart. Not that you really owned anything that would suggest that, anyways. 

He doesn’t need to know that you’d snuck in one of your hair ribbons, the special, silky ones he’d brought back from Jackson, the other one currently placed in your hair. Joel had scoffed in a way that you knew meant he thought it was completely unnecessary for such rough conditions - horseback for a day's time and camping overnight - yet he couldn’t help but admire that you looked too damn cute.

You give him a nod, and watch as he secures everything - windows shut, door locked from the outside as he’s done to you before - strange to see it from this perspective, the one thing that had kept you inside all those times he’d been gone, practically picturing yourself pacing back and forth right behind this very door. 

What he holds up next has your jaw dropping a little, eyes wide with wonder. “I thought we could try somethin’,” he explains smugly, the black leather sliding through his fingers. “To keep you safe out here, right by daddy’s side. Know we’ve only worn it in the house before, but this’ll be good. For you. An’ for me, honey.”

At your quiet, processing stare he takes it as permission - not that he’d ask for it anyways - stepping forward and clipping the leash onto your o-ring, smiling at the sight of you outside with it on. Your head cocked, docile body language with the leather adorning you is affecting him even more than he’d dreamed. He gives it a playful tug, sending you surging forward into him, and you give him a weak giggle. 

“Okay, there we go, good to see you laughin’, sweetheart,” Joel says brightly. 

“I’m sorry, daddy, I’m just nervous,” you tell him, and he puts his arm around you, guiding you down the porch with your leash in his other hand. “I don’t want people to not like me there.”

“I know,” he says, turning his head to kiss the top of yours as you approach Willow, all saddled up and ready to go, the small cart already hitched behind her. “But we don’t answer to them. You don’t answer to them.”

“Yes sir,” you say quietly. No, you think, there is only one person in this world you answer to, and he’s got you so wrapped around his finger that you’re currently leash bound.

Joel helps boost you up, taking your pack and putting it in the cart along with his own before saddling up behind you, pressing himself close, reaching around to grab the leash in his hand. It makes you feel a strange sense of calm while setting all your nerves on edge, burning hot as you feel the collar slightly strained when Joel adjusts the leash in his hand every so often. Whatever this feeling is, you crave more of it, especially now that you’re out in the open - your mind flashes through images of people seeing you like this and you can’t help but clench your thighs tightly together. You like how much you belong, how anyone who saw you would know just how much you were cared about, how well taken care of by your daddy.

Joel seems to pay no mind to your sudden change in energy, or he simply refuses to show his satisfaction at how much he can tell you’re enjoying yourself, how affected you are by the leash. He’s always known, though, that your mind holds dirtier secrets than you’d let on. So he just keeps Willow going on his well worn trail towards Jackson, watching your nervousness slowly being replaced with excitement as you two ride on into the bright and clear day. 

Joel isn’t very talkative, which isn’t anything new - most days when you two are focused on a task he isn’t the most open book you’ve ever met. You find yourself happy to just bask in the spring sunshine with him, getting lost in your own daydreams and studying the passing wildlife, once and a while pointing things out to Joel excitedly, typically only getting a smile and grunt of approval from him in return. 

You feel a slight jolt after several hours, Willow slowing down drastically as a distant sound sends a shiver down your spine. 

“Was that-“ you start, cut off when Joel slaps a hand over your mouth, his warm skin burning into your cheeks as his huge palm takes over the entire bottom half of your face, squeezing tightly.

“Shh,” he hisses in your ear, moving Willow along at a slow trot, the horse moving with whinnies and unease as his hand white knuckles around the reins. The tension in the air is thick, the sound coming once more but even more faded, further out of earshot. Your breathing is strained and shaky against his palm until he finally releases it a moment later.

“It’s far ‘nough away, we’re alright, baby,” he tells you, quickly rubbing your shoulder. “Sorry if that was a scare. Jus’ had to make sure.”

You swallow, nodding as your breath comes back to you, slowing down finally as you place a soothing hand over your chest, the other hanging on to Willow for dear life. “T-that was one of them, wasn’t it? I’ve heard that sound before,” you ask timidly, feeling your voice coming back to you.

Joel’s brows knit while he peers down at you, unsure if he’s heard you correctly, unable to believe anyone in this world could be unsure of that undeniable, spine chilling sound. The screech of danger in the vicinity, the only warning you’ll be lucky enough to receive to get the hell away from here. Even Joel himself had been surprised by it, almost never encountering infected along this route for all the years he’s been expertly traversing it back and forth. He can’t allow himself to think about the implications of infected being this far out in the wilderness, his heart was still taking it’s time slowing down, having leapt and fallen at the same time, terrified of putting you in that kind of danger.

“You say that like… you ain’t hardly heard one before, blossom.”

Your lips twist, chewing the inside of them as one of your countless nervous habits. “I mean - I have… not much, though. When I was on my own, before your place - uh, our place,” you correct yourself, something Joel had been getting on you about recently. It’s your home as much as it is mine now, he’d tell you. “I’d, uh, hear that kind of noise, then just hide… I thought it was them but wasn’t sure.” You say it like it’s a secret, like you’re ashamed, but Joel only has room to be stunned. 

His blink of surprise is missed by you sitting in front of him, staring off at the trail ahead, all dirt and brush for miles ahead. “You’ve seen ‘em… right, baby? How could you not?”

“No…” you murmur. “Well…” you hesitate, and Joel feels something shift, his curiosity piqued at the way you squirm in the saddle, watching your chest rise and fall with a long, drawn out sigh. “I’d only seen one of them once, really, before I had to leave my old community,” you say thoughtfully, your words careful and slow, tiptoeing around something Joel can’t quite put his finger on yet. 

“Yeah, that so?” Joel replies, lost in thought on just how much the opposite of you he is - the dozens and dozens of infected he’s seen, fought, and killed over the years. He can’t fathom almost never having come into contact with those monsters, a life without that worry. “Just the one?”

“Yes…” you squeak out, and Joel immediately catches the tension that radiates as you stiffen against his body, glancing down over your shoulder at the stony expression you’re wearing. He bites the inside of his lip, wondering how far to go, if he can push you just enough to satiate his curiosity, or if it’s wrong of him to even want to press you in the first place.

“It- it was my father,” you suddenly say before Joel can even respond, a little shaky like you’d forced yourself to push the words out before you lost your nerve. You let the sentence hang in the air, heavy, thick, nearly choking you. The fact that you’ve hardly even mentioned your family to Joel - your real family - not Harry and Josephine, has you feeling odd, like he doesn’t even know about such a big part of you. But they haven’t been for a long time, anyways. Nor had they ever, really, if you thought about it too hard, which always ended up making you feel sad. 

“He, uh, didn’t say anything, I guess, when he got bit out on a supply run. Wanted to see my mother one last time, or something. He didn’t say much about me, but, er,” you clear your throat, suddenly sounding hoarse. “He thought…. that he could be saved if he waited it out, since he was so - so devout. At least, that’s what he said… What they told all of us.” You feel your fists clench tight in front of you, that old, buried anger that bruised you so, so deeply rising it’s way to the surface of your skin. You half expect to look down and see your younger self, your younger body, the way you’ve taken yourself right back there for a split second.

“Christ,” Joel mutters under his breath, tightening his supporting arm around you as he steers Willow with the other. “You’re brave, honey, you really are,” he adds on with conviction, for once nearly at a loss for words with you.

“Yeah, maybe,” you sigh out. Another long silence follows - quiet rustling of trees, wind whistling past your ears that taunts you with its contrasting jauntiness. “He should have known better,” you finally say, quiet enough you aren’t sure Joel will hear it. 

“He should have, you’re right,” Joel agrees. “He hurt any of you? When he was… turnin’?”

You shake your head. “No. It woke us all up, the screaming… my mom. Then we ran. We… saw him before the neighbors got him. He was different, but all I remember is that his skin looked so odd… so…” you trail off, blinking a few times to clear your hazy eyes. “He could have had a chance to say goodbye, but instead -”

You feel Joel’s lips on the back of your head, his warmth wriggling a bit closer to you, holding you tightly. “I got you, sweetheart. I got you. I’m sorry,” he says softly, his own voice almost sounding choked up, but you’re in no good position to turn around and check for such a miracle, something that you know will remain a mystery to you. 

It’s quiet again for a long time, and you rest back onto Joel, leaning your weight into him a little. He can feel the heaviness of your soul, the way your mind turns over, likely replaying the events of the day you’d just described to him. Your pain is there, yes, but maybe not in the way Joel is assuming at how quiet you’ve gone. It’s a dull ache, and it has been for a very long time, once you’d learned to become numb to it. You spent years crying over your family in private, so much so that you lost all sense of time, of your life, as you’d been taken in by your new family, just as rotten as the rest, it turned out. Joel had told you what they were - Harry and Josephine - but despite all of that they’d taken you in when you needed someone the most, and you were thankful for that at the least. They helped you through the power of belief and prayer, and for a time you suppose it really had been the balm you needed, something to cling on to. Until it wasn’t anymore.

“We should stop for the night,” Joel says finally, squinting into the impending darkness, breaking through the depths of your thoughts back to your present self. You blink hard, giving him a nod to show that you understand, but nothing more. Joel’s heart pulls at him, an unfamiliar ache to see you drawn so tightly in on yourself, so bogged down by the past. He holds your hand, allowing you some stability as you climb down off of Willow and let him lead you to the makeshift campsite - a shaded area a bit off the trail where he rolls out the sleeping bag for you, patting it.

“You should get some rest, honey, been a long day,” he says, and you silently obey, plopping down onto the sleeping bag before pulling yourself inside, rolling up an old jacket to use as a pillow. Your eyes track Joel as he flits around for a moment, grabbing some jerky out of his pack and sitting against a nearby tree, eating it with an absent look in his eyes.

“Daddy?” you say quietly, sending his eyes over to you, brow raised slightly in response, asking you to go on. “Can… can I move closer?”

Joel’s shoulders lose an ounce of their perpetual tension, falling as he sighs out a sympathetic little hum. “Sure, baby, c’mere,” he responds, patting his thick, jean clad thighs.

You wriggle your way to him, still inside the sleeping bag, awkwardly dragging it along and laying yourself next to him. You both laugh a little at your struggle, a welcome balm to the day as Joel feels relief flood him at the flash of lightness in your eyes. Your head is down again, this time on his thigh, staring up towards him with a soft smile. 

“That better, princess? You comfy?” he asks facetiously, taunting you.

“Very, thank you,” you quip back with just as much attitude. “What about you, daddy? You don’t have a sleeping bag?”

Joel shakes his head. “I’ve jus’ had the one for all these years. I’ve gotta keep watch anyhow.”

“You’re not gonna sleep?” you ask, unsurprised - you’d expected as much. Neither of you have seen or heard a soul other than that distant screech of the infected earlier, but you know Joel doesn’t take chances like this. Ever. Not with you involved.

Another shake of his head. “Jus’... try to get some rest, yeah?” he says, a familiar tactic to try to divert your attention with a soft command from him. You know he’s right, but your mind is still spinning, turning faster than you can keep up with, like a dam that’s now burst open with water rushing past as information about your life that you suddenly feel compelled to share with Joel now that you’ve started. You pop your hands out of the sleeping back, folding them over your belly, soft breaths rising and falling.

“Don’t you want to know?” you ask. 

“Know what?”

“Well, more. About my family. You know they’re all… gone. You didn’t ask me any questions, really.”

Joel huffs, slightly amused at your uncharacteristic directness. “Didn’t feel like it was somethin’ I should push,” he says. “You really want to say more ‘bout all that?”

“I do… want you to know, even if it’s hard.”

Joel’s chest pangs, clenching tight at your words. He’s never been one for talking about the past, or dwelling on it openly, at least, which is something he’s told you repeatedly any time you tried to do any digging. Past’s the past. His broken record of a phrase always falling from his lips whenever things got too close, too painful. You’d mostly been doing that for years too, leaving the past in the past, but somehow it caught up to you, right in this vulnerable, tiny moment with Joel. Your longing to have him see this part of you, the piece that’s still buried deep in the chasmic corners of your soul and the part that's not his perfect pet, his blank slate to draw all over, makes the words start to bubble up out of your throat before Joel can even respond to you.

“They all went quick after my dad, you know. That same winter, maybe a few months after - I think it was autumn when my dad turned? My brother got sick, and kids are always getting sick around town, but this one didn’t go away, and we didn’t know how to fix it. We didn’t have enough of anything - no hospitals, nothing we had helped him, so… we all prayed. And he died,” you swallow, licking your cracked lips, wishing your mouth hadn’t dried up so much - you’re not sure you’ve talked this much at once about your past before. “I didn’t really understand, I don’t think. Until I saw my mother, her eyes… and I realized that it was like my dad, that he wasn’t coming back to play, he wasn’t waking up anymore, and -“

Joel instinctively strokes your head when your voice breaks into a tiny crackle. “Shh… you don’t have to-” he starts, but you bolt upwards, lifting your head from where it was nestled in his lap, looking into his eyes, your own turned into narrow slits. 

“No. I want you to know. You’re - you’re all I have left. I may not be all you have, but… I don’t know if I know a single other soul in this world. If anyone where I grew up is still alive, or if they were all killed when we got ambushed and I ran like a coward. My family, everyone - you’re… it.”

Joel swallows hard, staring at you, his mouth slightly hanging open in surprise before he can collect himself. Something about being outside the confines of the cabin, the stress of the unknowns you’ve faced today, has you feeling like someone else, someone you’re not sure you’re wanting to get to know more. He’s never heard you speak like this, your voice slightly foreign as it hits his ears, the desperate demanding behind it something that breaks a tiny part inside of him, too hurt to even care if you’re bordering on insolent. The only reason he was trying to silence you was for himself, to spare him the pain of facing anything resembling grief, whether it be your burden or his. He can’t… touch it. But you deserved this, at the least, for him to listen to your story. 

“I-I’m sorry, daddy…” you say more softly, realizing how much you’ve forgotten yourself. “I didn’t mean to get mad, I - I…” 

Joel’s arms are around you in the next second, hugging you close to him with a thud against his chest. “No, baby, s’alright, I know, I know,” he coos next to your ear, and you sigh softly, threading your arms around his neck and returning the embrace. “Thas’ why I knew… I needed to take care of you, that’s why. I wanted to be that for you, yeah?”

You nod into his shoulder, your eyes burning with fresh tears, an errant sniffle giving you away and prompting Joel to squeeze you. 

“You can tell me if you want,” he says quietly, putting aside his own discomfort. “I won’t stop you, okay?” You give him another nod and sniffle in reply before he decides to prompt you along. “C’mere, lay back down. Right there, thas’ it,” he says, guiding your head back to his lap, falling into the small gap between his outstretched legs. Returning to your rightful place, you’re tamed back to the girl you love being for him, letting a small silence stretch on as you gaze up at the peek of starlight coming through the treetops above. 

“Then it was my mom. She didn’t care anymore - about me, or anything. She just kind of… gave up. I mean, she never really paid much mind to me before, I was more trouble that it was worth, I think,” you laugh a tiny sound, something bitter. “But then it was like I didn’t even exist. And I think she decided she didn’t want to be around anymore… she couldn’t…” You’ve never been able to say the words, ones you don’t know how to comprehend to this day, but simultaneously have understood completely at certain moments of your life. Never enough, though, to follow in her footsteps, meet her again if what they say about life and death is true.

Joel’s breath catches in his throat, now laden with a thick lump, one he attempts to swallow down to no avail. He’s frozen, his body tingling that numb sensation when you’re hit with something so profoundly heartbreaking you have no choice but to absorb it viscerally. “Oh, sweetheart,” he breathes out, “Are you sayin’ what I think you are?”

You don’t answer him right away, searching for the words. “I-I didn’t find her, or anything, though. Nothing like that. She went… away to do it,” you say, flashing images of the nearby lake that you’d spent hours swimming in throughout your childhood, a place you never set foot near again, tainted beyond repair. 

“How old were you?” Joel asks simply, shaking his head.

“Ten.” Deadpan. Like you’ve never thought twice about the fact that you were barely along in life when you lost everything you’d ever known.

“Fuck,” he whispers, his eyes closing a beat too long, nearly rolling in frustration for you - a life too young to be so painful, to have endured such unspeakable tragedy. “That’s… baby, that’s a tough deal. I don’t know what to say ‘cept I’m sorry. Real sorry you didn’t get the life you deserve out there.”

“It’s okay… it was a long time ago now,” you tell him, your voice lightening enough that he feels more at ease, like he hasn’t completely dragged you back to depths of despair that you possibly haven’t dared to visit for years.

“Not that long ago, though.”

“Feels like it.”

Joel chuckles softly, a hand on the side of your head out of instinct, rubbing soothing patterns down your soft cheeks with his calloused fingertips. “Know what you mean, sweetheart.”

You sigh and turn onto your side, resting your cheek on his leg now, letting your eyes focus in on the blackness in front of you, just two voices in the dark now without faces. It’s more comforting this way for some reason, not being able to see Joel, to just throw your words out into the night, praying that maybe now, you’ll never have to face them again. Maybe now, they can float off into the gentle breeze that sends a tiny, cleansing shiver through you, making you burrow further down into the sleeping bag. 

“It’s not all bad, right, daddy? I made it out here with you, and - and - we’re okay, aren’t we?” you ask, sounding more like yourself with your naive words and mousy little voice.

A smile dares to pull on his lips, hearing you bring it back to him in one of your darkest moments. A testament to the fact that he brings you that comfort, he gives you that security you’ve been craving. You’ve never been more clear to him, more understood than right now, and he almost feels guilt creeping in at it all - the way he’d been able to mould you so easily, to pick at your deepest fears and needs too quickly before even knowing the depths of your story. He does almost feel remorse for how easy prey you’ve been to the predator within him, the one that was formed by his circumstances just as much as yours were. But only almost. Because just as much as you’d been lost, he’d be lost without you, now.

He looks down, barely able to make out your form below him as his eyes adjust to the dark. The fuzzy curve of your body curled into him, seeking refuge from the storm you’ve unleashed. Seeking your shelter.

“Yeah, blossom, we are.”

dividers by @/saradika-graphics

reminder i have no taglist, follow @beardedjoel-updates to hear about my new fics!

Alice: madness returns

smother - part xi: dawning

dark!joel x f!reader

series masterlist | main masterlist | ao3 | kofi

summary: an onslaught of feelings in the wake of your attack may change the course of your relationship with joel forever. defeat seems imminent, but you're determined not to give up. 12.5k words. chapter warnings: 18+ MDNI! dubcon - stockholm syndrome, innocent reader, big juicy age gap (reader is 19, joel is 55), ddlg/daddy dom! joel, sub!reader, ANGST, unprotected piv, joel is not nice during sex, dacryphilia if you squint, reader is referred to as a pet, reader wears a collar, reader has hair and outfits are described. if these darker tags aren't your cup of tea please keep scrolling! a/n: oof. this one hurt you guys. but i think this may be the thing i've written i'm most proud of, at least for this story thus far. i made two people tear up who haven't even read the story just by telling them some parts and lines from this chapter. SO ANYWAY. ENJOY HA HA

F-fuck, yeah that’s it, take it, take it.

You can hardly hear the words through the rushing in your ears, uttered in grunts from above you. Your face is pressed deep into the mattress, shoved down with Joel’s thick hand pressing on top of it, so when you’re finally able to turn it just enough underneath his grasp, you suck in a deep, rasping breath, desperate for it. 

“Poor baby needs to breathe, don’t she?” he taunts as he splits you open - relentless, over and over with his thick girth that you still can’t ever seem to get used to. Your mouth lays open against the sheets, drool slipping out of the edge of your parted lips laced with moans and pooling underneath as you attempt a nod against his all encompassing hand against your head. 

“Please,” you squeak out before your head is yanked to the side, giving Joel more of a view of your side profile.

“Go on then, let daddy hear you,” Joel clips from above, his hips moving at an unrelenting pace on top of your flattened body, only your hips popped up a tiny bit at Joel’s coaxing. You can only whimper as your fingers dig into the sheets - you want nothing more than to slump down and fall asleep now, your body feeling frayed around the edges, a deep tiredness within you. Joel has made you come two times now with his relentless fucking, asking for a third before he decides to fill you. 

He’s craving the validation, the security of having your mind so transfixed and filled with nothing but him. A string of begging leaves your mouth, daddy please over and over cried out that only makes Joel harder, more determined on his mission. 

He changes the pace, rolling his hips slowly and with more purpose, the inward thrust starting to hit that perfect spot inside of you. And just as he wanted, you come for the third time, more incoherent and pathetic than the last two, barely even remembering Joel’s cock stuffing you right after and coming hard with a grunt. 

He’s gone before you even get your bearings, your eyes a drooping mess as you pass out right there, face down on the mattress. 

Joel hasn’t been the same since the incident. He’s changed, like you saw a switch flip, a man completely shift directions mid journey. He’d been so tender right after, but once the two of you stepped out of that shower, you saw it in his eyes - the panic turned to coldness, the softness turned back to stone. His touch is harder now, not sparing extra niceties even at your most intimate moments. It feels like he’s reverted to some shell of himself, more like when you’d first met him but even more reserved, somehow. He’s so rough with you, eyes barely able to meet yours anymore when he touches you, like he might have to remember what he almost lost if he glimpses your innocent stare. 

Joel doesn’t sleep much anymore, either. You wake to find the bed cold and untouched if you stir in the night, sighing as that pit of sadness grows inside of you, the one you’d tried to keep at bay, the one that Joel had succeeded at pushing away for you before him. You’ve had a few nightmares, ones that you didn’t tell Joel about, ones that he wasn’t here to witness because he never is now. He’s all hawk eyes and vigilance lately, his body tense and unable to relax despite how hard you try to help him. He’ll come fuck you to sleep most nights, making sure he pulls enough mind numbing orgasms out of you to send you passing out quickly after so he can leave again, back to his post. 

It’s quiet and dark in the room when you wake up alone tonight, and you’re starting to despise this feeling of missing someone right in the same home with you. So within reach, but so far away. He’s left you a glass of water and a washcloth, a vaguely kind gesture in lieu of the way he usually takes care of you after being so rough, but you know he wants you to drink it, so you chug it down in gulps, finding your mouth was dry, anyways. 

You hope the extra loud creak of that third step down doesn’t alarm Joel from where he is, but you see no movement from through the front door, so you continue down and through the kitchen. The burst of cool air and faint noise of crickets, so calming opposed to the war within you, hits you all at once as you step onto the front porch. Joel glances over at you with tired, hard eyes, rifle laid across his lap where he sits in the large, wooden rocker off to the side. His eyes rake over you, that knit blanket from the bedroom in your arms and another one of your sheer white gowns on that catches in the subtle breeze that blows by. 

“Hi daddy,” you say timidly, approaching him with cautious steps on your bare feet across the planks of the porch. You sink down in front of him, between his legs, peering up at him for approval that he doesn’t give you. 

“You should be in bed,” Joel says plainly, reaching a hand towards you out of habit, but it only lands on your head, barely moving. The touch sends a jolt through you still, so starved for his usual love and care, the way he would look at you like the most perfect pet when you sat between his legs like this. His eyes only look down towards you for a split second before going back to scan the dark surroundings, nothing even truly visible with the amount of pure night you get up here from such untouched land. Not a soul nearby, just the way Joel likes it. 

“I know,” you reply just as plainly, scooting and shifting until you’re in the right spot before gingerly laying your head onto Joel’s left thigh, nuzzling your cheek down and finding his usual softness taut and rigid. It smells like him, smells like home - a little dirty, that earthy, heady smell of him that clings to his clothes. “I can’t sleep either.”

“Hm,” Joel mutters, and you don’t fail to notice the way his eyes blink shut a little too long, a soft sigh coming out at the feeling of your cheek against his leg. He loves this feeling, but right now he won’t let himself, can’t let himself. “Bad dream?”

You give a small shake your head against where it lays. “Not today. Just don’t like sleeping without you.”

Joel just grumbles again, a poor excuse for why he’s forcing himself to stay up, torturing himself with tired, bloodshot eyes that are looking for something that isn’t going to show up. The threat is gone, thanks to him, and has been gone for two weeks now with no sign of anyone else coming along. Joel had been rightfully worried at first that maybe Bryant would have friends looking for him, or someone who had followed him here and wanted to have a crack at you or Joel too, vengeance for a beloved friend. But it had been full radio silence, the woods barely rustling beyond the usual wildlife. You felt fully at ease again knowing your protector was home, so why couldn’t Joel accept that?

“Daddy…” you say softly, reaching up to touch his hand, held tightly against the stock of the rifle. It doesn’t twitch, doesn’t respond and the resistance from him pulls at your already sinking heart. “Will you please come to bed?”

Joel finally lets something through, a small twitch of his lips that shows some sympathy towards you, knowing this treatment isn’t fair, that you’ve noticed how different things are now. “Not yet, maybe in a bit.” You know it’s a lie, something he’s already said before on these sleepless nights only for it to be far from the truth. “Head on inside, you’re gonna catch cold or somethin’.”

You don’t have any intention of doing what he says, though, pointedly wrapping the blanket around your shoulders, letting it cover most of your top half as you tuck yourself closer and get comfortable. “I’ll just sit with you for a minute, daddy, then I’ll go in, promise.”

He doesn’t respond at first, not even to chide you for not following an order from him - he’s let more and more small things slip while somehow being more controlling than ever. Before the attack, you’d felt more freedom to roam, to find your own ways to occupy yourself throughout the day, even if Joel wasn’t in your immediate space. But now each moment of your day is more at his mercy, as he often has you either completely glued to his side or leashed up in the bedroom, tied to the furniture, anywhere he chooses, really. But for how much he’s held you close these recent days, you’ve also been pushed away - most days Joel refuses to talk much at all, even at your endless prompting that you’d soon given up on. Every time he does speak a sentence longer than a few words, you feel your heart race, excitement flowing through your veins that maybe you’ll get the old Joel back, even if it’s in small pieces at a time.

Joel’s head shakes above you and you frown. “Inside, now.”

“Daddy, just -“ you start to beg before his hand falls off the rifle and grasps at your chin, lifting you off of his leg.

“I’m bein’ so god damned serious right now, blossom. I don’t have the patience for this,” he snips with a quick rub of his eyes as he drops your chin, landing a pinch along the bridge of his nose. His exhaustion is more than clear on his features, in his gravelly voice that barely has any energy left to give out even to scold you.

You try not to let the thoughts win, pushing them away over and over, but part of you wonders if this has more to do with your confession in the shower than Joel would let on. He hadn’t spoken a word, just directing you to leave the shower, dry off, and head to the bedroom before following behind you and holding you until you fell asleep in the bed, taking a restless, much needed nap until the evening light came in. When you woke up, he was gone, starting the series of events that led you here, to where he feels more distant than ever.

If he didn’t love you… you could live with that. You could understand that. Maybe it wasn’t ever meant to be that way - he’d never tried to hide what you were to him, making it clear over and over that he owned you, and does a man really love property in the way you’d meant it when you uttered the words to him? It didn’t change how you’d felt in that moment, so close to him, so safe and well taken care of, all of the promises by him fulfilled. The man you’d known when you said those words had been so softened, providing you with a life you found worth living for the first time, freedoms you’d never been allowed before, eyes open to the ways of the world. Having that torn away, lost and wondering how to get him back, had slowly broken your heart over the last few weeks. But just like you’d needed Joel all those months ago, he needs you now. If you’d meant what you said - if you really do love him - you could stay by his side until he came back to you. If he ever did.

“Daddy, but -“ you try to protest, your voice giving out on you into a little croak as you grasp at his legs, hauling yourself closer to him.

“Your ass in bed. Now,” he grunts back, his voice picking up as he huffs, leaning forward to move you off of where your hands cling to his upper thighs, those teary eyes of yours silently breaking his heart. He pushes it down, the lump he swallows down day after day becoming larger, more unbearable to weather. But it’s what’s best for you, after all. It was too close, too soft now, you were both too… fucking vulnerable for his liking. Love shouldn’t be like this, it should be hard and rough and a reminder not to get too close because you could lose it all the next day. 

You wipe the one tear that spills as soon as it rolls over the edge of your waterline, sniffling and squaring your shoulders. When you stand, gathering the blanket in your hands, you look down at him with a renewed determination that makes Joel’s heart sink again. You weren’t going to stop anytime soon, you weren’t going to make this easy on him. You never had, even without trying. 

“Good night daddy,” you tell him quietly before turning on your heel and softly clicking the cabin door shut behind you. 

You persevere. The next two days remain the same - Joel losing himself to his work, patrolling the area along the woods while you find a way to occupy your own restless mind. But you’re feeling more tenacious and stubborn than you have in days, seeing the tiny glimpse of hope in his eyes that made you do the exact same steps down to the porch over and over again when you awoke to an empty bed in the nights that followed. It was always the same scene - Joel, chair, rifle, tension in the air as you sit between his legs again. He always sends you away, back to bed, more weary each time he does, but tonight you’ve adamantly decided you’re not going to let him. Punishment be damned, you will break Joel, you will crack back through to his soft center. 

“We’re doin’ this again?” Joel asks with a scowl, his knuckles going white on his grip around the rifle. The only thing he hates more than your disobedience is the fact that your obvious plan to continue on until he gives in to you is working on him.

Your cheek nuzzles against his scratchy denim, feline in your movements as you practically purr against him, pointedly breathing in his scent for him to see. “Yes, daddy, we are,” you murmur as you finally rest your cheek high on his thigh, a hand coming to trace along the o-ring on your collar. “Can’t sleep well without you now, you know that.”

Joel’s dark eyes are transfixed on your gentle fingers, the way they rhythmically follow along the circle before hooking into it, repeating the pattern as you watch his jaw tick. “I know,” he says plainly, sighing. “Doesn’t mean y’should be out here.”

“Doesn’t it?” you ask pointedly, unsure of where this newfound bravery is even coming from, realizing by the narrowing of Joel’s eyes that you’re toeing a dangerous line now. What daddy says goes. Do not question him. The rules written on the paper stuck to the fridge floats through your mind before you push it away again, remembering what you’re risking to behave this way. 

“You think you’re makin’ decisions around here now?” Joel huffs, a small roll of his bloodshot eyes as they make their way back out into the darkness. “Keep dreamin’, little one,” he adds with a scoff, sending your brows furrowing with frustration. 

You know what you always have - that sass and wayward unruliness are never going to get you anywhere with Joel. He’s not interested in how much you could challenge him, he never has been. He’s only ever wanted one thing: your complete submission. But this time, you just can’t let it go, not another night alone, another day of the same distance between the two of you. 

“Just… I… miss you, daddy,” you blurt out, yielding to him as you feel your face fall, brows softening as you peer up at him with desperation.

His eyes narrow further, a long pause as you can see his gears turning, contemplating just how far he should give in. “Fine. Ten minutes,” he finally says, instantly back to staring out at his surroundings, scanning along the property. You smile slyly and wrap the blanket around yourself, hunkering down, content to just see the rise and fall of his chest, to feel the warmth of him close to you in a moment of your choosing, not his. It’s a beautiful night, the stars glittering in the sky beyond the two of you, making you feel so tiny, your problems so small in the grand scheme of things, and yet they hurt with a passion you’ve never known before.

You don’t even realize you’ve dozed off until the tender scratch of fingers on your scalp pulls you awake, your entire body stiff and aching as it’s slumped uncomfortably against Joel. You blink your bleary eyes to be met with the underside of his bearded chin, his eyes still trained on the outside world, looking lost in thought. You feel an extra weight, his jacket draped across your shoulders, and the smell is intoxicating, wishing you could carry it with you everywhere, always. You’re not even sure how he’d taken it off without waking you, making you wonder just how sleep deprived you were as well that you’d been that far gone to not have felt anything.

Joel senses your stirring, tearing his eyes off the shadowy woods beyond and down to you, where you murmur a sleepy noise against his leg, picking your head up and swapping it to the other thigh, wanting to stretch your neck the other way.

“Mm-mm,” Joel chides roughly, seeing you try to get comfortable again with your tired, heavy eyes. “Bedtime. That was more than ten minutes already.”

“Pl-” you choke out, feeling disappointment crash over you at how much this is starting to go in the same direction as it had last night.

“No, baby,” Joel interrupts with that same harsh tone, his eyes seeming to remember their place, hardening on you. “Can’t have this becomin’ a thing, you’re gonna hurt yourself layin’ on me like that.”

“Please…” you say, not wanting to have to utter it again, knowing he knows exactly what you mean. Please come to bed with me. I need you there. More than that, I just want you there. You hope your eyes convey what you can’t, blinking slow and sad in his direction. He sighs, his shoulders sagging downwards, and he looks more weary than ever, pure exhaustion on every feature. His hand moves, picking your head up off of his thigh and cupping your cheek. This may be the longest he’s held eye contact with you in weeks, and you don’t dare break it, wanting to read him, see if his thoughts are somehow discernible through his dark eyes.

“Okay,” he says in a low mutter, eyes finally breaking from yours, not getting to see the relief wash over your features, the way your mouth hangs open a little in surprise before you close it, not wanting to ruin such a delicate moment. You stand, watching as Joel starts to move past you, carrying the rifle in one hand, putting the other on the small of your back. It sends you shivering as you two step into the warmth of the house and upstairs, neither of you saying a word. You stand next to your side of the bed, eyes glued cautiously to where Joel sits on the edge of his, still not moving to lay down despite making it this far. 

You know you should strip down, one of Joel’s rules for you, but he doesn’t seem to notice or care when you crawl into bed still wearing your gown, moving on hands and knees over to where his back is facing you and hesitating for a moment, heart beating wildly in your chest. What will he think, if you comfort him now? If you touch him? Will he be angry with you for exposing his weakness?

You kneel behind his back, slipping your arms around the front of him, past his shoulders as your hands glide down and interlock together across his chest.

“You’re so tired, daddy, please…” you say weakly, begging the sudden onslaught of hot tears to stop prickling at your eyeballs. You don’t even know what you’re begging him for at this point, but the plea rises up from your swirling gut, sick with anxiety and fear for the future, for your future with Joel.

The tired grumble that follows is confirmation of his exhaustion, and when your hands move, rubbing along his chest in sweeping strokes, the hum that escapes Joel finally shows a crack in the wall he’s built up. You keep the movements feather light, afraid of breaking the moment before it’s even had a chance to truly flourish. The tension is thick in the air, your breath held in tightly as you wait for the inevitable end, for Joel to shrug you off, to push you away again. 

But it doesn’t happen.

“Feels nice, honey,” Joel murmurs instead, slightly slurring and sounding more relaxed than you’ve heard him in ages. You slowly release your breath, his pleasure spurring you on to keep doing the soothing movements, starting to circle his pecs slowly and carefully with your fingertips.

“Please…” you whisper, hands coming up to his shoulders and rubbing. You place your nose to the back of his head and breathe in deeply, filling your lungs with him, pretending this moment is in another place, different circumstances where things don’t feel so strained and stretched right now. 

Joel starts to shift, his body moving sideways to lay down, bringing you with him, a strange sense of victory coursing through you as he curls up onto his pillow. You don’t dare speak, call it out, though, not wanting to break the fragility of the moment, the brittle little thing it is. 

“Sh-should be the one… holding you…” Joel mumbles, the words coming lazily off his lips as his eyes stay shut, his body turning slightly to try to comfort you instead.

“It’s okay,” you whisper, working soothing ministrations along his chest, your arms trapped where they hold him. “I want you to sleep.” 

The tiniest noise of protest leaves his lips before they sputter out on you, his jaw going slack, the rise and fall of his chest slowly evening out until he’s snoring softly. Your eyes grow wide, watching him carefully, not daring to move before you smile softly, a rare occurrence these days. Several moments pass of the same, steady movements from his chest, his body completely limp otherwise under where you’re curled up to him. 

He’s asleep.

His eyes are the first thing you notice when you wake up. Not that they’re open, but that they’re still gently shut, fluttering softly with his dreams that you pray are treating him well. You’re almost in disbelief that last night really happened, that he’s still asleep, still… here.

You’ve moved in the night, arms free now but still snuggled up close to him, and the urge comes in swiftly to touch him, to study his face as you do on the rare occasions you actually get to watch Joel sleep. Your hand, reaching up to the spot you know he has that little dimple when he deigns to give you a smile, the lines next to it showing his age but you find that you cherish them more and more the longer you know him. You love that they have history, days of his that you can’t even dream of, lives he’s lived before this one with you. You wonder what secrets all these lines, nooks, and crannies hold of him, the person he was before the Outbreak, even before he met you - were they so different? 

When your finger lightly traces along his scruffy, rugged cheek to take him in, Joel flinches and you immediately regret it. His body jolts out of his sleep with a harsh inhale of air, his chest starting to heave slightly. “Wh-” he calls out before his blurry eyes take in his surroundings, alerting him of his safety and yours. 

“I-it’s me, I’m sorry, daddy,” you say mousily, lip caught between your teeth with a fresh wave of fear. 

“Oh, did I - sh-shit…” he grumbles, clearly displeased that he’s fallen asleep, that there’s been a period of time that you’re awake and he’s not been there for you, stepped in as your eyes and ears.

“You got some sleep, that’s what you needed daddy,” you tell him, your sweet voice with that hint of grogginess still lacing it starting to calm him. 

Joel’s body slumps down a little, the rigid muscles quickly going back to relaxed. His hand wipes down his face, clearing the sleep from his eyes. “I…” he sighs, readying to have some retort, some complaint for you telling him what he needs. But he can’t deny the simple and true fact that you were right - he had slept better last night than he had in days, running on no rest only increasing his misery, his poor treatment of you. That same misery he’d convinced himself he deserved, that he wasn’t sure he should have lifted from him just yet until he’d been punished enough. He blinks a few times before meeting your eyes with his. “You’re right, blossom. Daddy needed that.”

The small smile that you grace him with is enough. To get him out of bed today, to show you that he can be a better man, one deserving of those soft touches, that care you’d poured out onto him last night. When he smiles back it’s just a soft twitch of his lips but it meets his eyes, some of the shadows clouding them whisked away for the moment.

“Thank you.”

You feel your cheeks heat, warmth spreading at his blatant display of gratitude that’s so out of character for him that it sends you almost stammering. “You- you’re welcome, daddy,” you say, stunned. 

He grunts, shifting to press his lips to your forehead, your entire body wanting to shudder at the recently missing tenderness suddenly being shown to you. Your eyes close, a shaky inhale cut short when Joel rolls over onto his back. You can’t help but stare and study him, wondering what version of him you’re going to get today, gazing at him with trepidation and fear. It was a good start to the day, and an even better end to the night last night, but you know it’s naïve to expect things to change this drastically overnight. 

“What?” Joel asks, instantly cringing a little at how harsh his voice comes out. You scamper back a little and quickly avert your eyes, feeling your cheeks flash hot at the way he’d caught you staring. 

“N-nothing, I don’t know,” you stumble out, busying your hands in front of your chest, then threading them together over your belly. Joel catches the fiddling movements, sighing and sitting up onto his elbows, turning to look down at where you lay. 

“What is it? Out with it,” he urges you with an impatient wave of his hand. 

“Just… well… you were being nice,” you say timidly, flicking your eyes his way and biting the inside of your lip anxiously. 

“And I’m not, usually? That what you’re saying?” Raised, tight knit brows, one of Joel’s first warning signs you’re moving towards thin ice, send your heart skipping a beat and speeding up inside your chest. 

You swallow hard, wishing to sink yourself into the mattress, away from this mess you’ve found yourself in. “Daddy…” you whimper helplessly, “You know what I mean… right? If you’re gonna be more… like you used to be today?”

He lets out a mirthless chuckle, shaking his head. “I’m doin’ what I’ve got to do to keep us safe, now. If you have a problem with it I’m not sure what to tell you, sweetheart.”

Your mouth opens and closes a few times, fists balling as you sit yourself up. “I just… want you to talk to me, daddy. Shouldn’t we…? Y’know, talk about it?”

“There’s nothin’ to talk about. I let things go too far, things were too… too comfortable,” he says, the word spat off his tongue almost like it disgusts him. You feel the bed dip with his weight moving off of it as he stands up. How could it be such a bad thing, being comfortable with each other? He rubs a hand over his sleepy face, still tired eyes looking a little less bloodshot as they gaze thoughtfully down at the floor.

“Look, ‘m sorry, baby,” he says, rubbing his hands together, remorse washing over him. “We’ll have a good day today, yeah? Just… rest, blossom. I’ll make breakfast,” Joel says, his sad eyes glued to where you lay under the blankets, curled up right as he left you, like he could still see the outline of where you fit into him so perfectly. It hurts, it fucking hurts, his mind yells as he tears his eyes away and leaves the room. He’d promised himself last night that he would try today, but the sight of you in bed this morning runs circles in his hazy head as he tries to put together something to eat. Thinking of you, looking at you, being near you brings him a pain he’s never imagined he could feel again. He’s only able to see the hurt, the way he’d failed to protect what he’d vowed to. All he’d ever been good for, and yet he failed. Again. Again. Again.

Christ, you deserved better than what he was giving you right now. All to protect himself from the pain, not thinking of you at all. Half assed comments, a lover barely able to look you in the eye while he fucks you, while you pass him in the now haunted rooms of this cabin. You deserved everything. All the things he was giving you before, the softness and domesticity, that life didn’t belong to him, it never could. The sooner you could understand that, the better. He vows to do better today though, even if it’s just budging an inch in the right direction, making it that much less hard to look at you without seeing every way he has and could ever fail. Vowing to stop pushing you away, making that dejected look flicker through your pretty eyes every time he does. Better, Joel, do better. She is yours to care for.

The right thing to do is to let you go, he’s known that for a long time, but his stomach lurches at the thought of passing you along to somewhere else. Someone else. A selfish man, proclaiming it and never denying the fact, even to himself, that while there were many ways he gave things up, sacrificed for others, you were never going to be one of those things.

So instead of further contemplating the weight of this small world the two of you live in, he just makes you oatmeal. 

“I was thinkin’...” Joel says, fingers scratching over his beard as he sets his spoon down with a tiny clink. He looks slightly contemplative, almost nervous, a rare emotion for Joel Miller to express. “There’s some things ready to harvest today, if you wanna help me out. Then Willow needs a good brushin’ an’ caring an’ all that, so…” He clears his throat, tired, dewy eyes glancing up and hoping to hold your stare. 

The spoon hauling the oats to your mouth pauses mid-air, your eyes snapping up to his and then back down to the bowl full of your beige breakfast. “O-oh…?” you question, finally taking your bite. You’re hesitant, unsure of how you feel about this sudden change in Joel’s demeanor based on the roller coaster he’s already put you on this morning. You’ve been managing your expectations, dampening your hopes for weeks, and despite the recent breakthroughs you’d had with him, you don’t want to assume anything and wind up getting hurt. You have to remind yourself to respond, to not waste this precious offer you’re receiving. “Yes, daddy, that sounds nice. I haven’t been in the garden much lately.” 

Typically you two gardened together, some of the only work around the house Joel prefers to let you help with. You have many fond memories of gabbing the days away out there with him, hearing the limited stories from his past, him getting to know more about you while you planted and tended to the sweet little seeds you’d hoped to grow, watching them over time become a bountiful harvest for your home together. As with most other aspects of your usual life lately, Joel had pushed you out, or decided to patrol the area while you gardened for a bit on your own, but you missed the carefree days in the dirt with him. This gave you a tiny bit of hope that maybe you were getting even an ounce of that back. 

He gives you a strained smile, nodding before having another bite. “Well there’s lots we can take care of out there today, so eat up.”

You feel an eagerness building, a flutter in your belly that you haven’t felt in ages, excited to spend time with Joel today, praying it wasn’t just a one off that his attitude seemed to be shifting. Maybe a good night's rest was the start of something new. 

“Daddy…?” you ask quietly as you place your dish in the sink, turning to where he’s already started to rinse them. “C-could I put on some pants before we go out? Last time I, er, hurt my knees… in the dress… and I don’t want any stains.”

Joel looks you up and down, taking in the shorter gown you’re wearing, one of the ones you typically wear at night or to throw on in the morning after rolling out of bed. It was a bad choice for gardening, he had to agree with you. “You’ve got plenty of longer dresses,” he says after a long, thoughtful beat, clearly not pleased. Something about you outside in the sunshine, wearing the pretty dresses he’d hand picked for you got to him, and selfishly he needed the boost today. 

Your face falls for a split second before you pull it back together, nodding with your lips pressed into a tight smile. “Is the yellow one okay? With the cute little flowers?” you meekly ask before you see him give an approving nod. Again, selfishly, Joel is thrilled with your pick, the chest on that particular dress dipping in a low scoop neck that made him salivate every time he saw it on you, the glimpses he’d get from watching you bent over in the garden already exciting him. 

“Thank you, sir,” you say, excusing yourself to change. 

And god, are you a vision in it, Joel thinks as you traipse down the stairs, heading to put your boots on, following him over to where the light spills in as Joel opens the back door for you two to step right out into the garden, the day welcoming you two with open, sunny arms. Spring in Wyoming truly has been a treat, and this clear day seems to instantly lift both of your spirits, Joel’s slight smile as you two get to work making your chest squeeze a little tighter with hope. 

He’s still quiet, contemplative as his hands work on auto pilot, harvesting some of your freshly grown berries while you work the watering can, but his aura shines brighter, the dark cloud hanging over him looking a little less intimidating to conquer today. It still has your stomach in knots, the lack of surety and security you have right now, feet planted on the edge of the cliff that is Joel, rocks ready to slip out from under you at any moment. You glance over to check in on him every so often, trying to read his mood, but it only serves to make him seem more tense every time he catches your stare and sees you hurriedly looking away like a scared little animal. He surprises even himself, knowing typically he’d enjoy your fear, eat it up like a starved man, but today, it’s grating on him. 

Joel stops, dropping his hands and placing one on his hip. “The hell is going on with you?” he asks, an edge in his voice that makes your cheeks flash hot. You hold the watering can in front of you and stare downwards at it. 

“Are we okay, daddy?” you ask pointedly, shoulders sagging downwards as your voice drops. “D-did I do something wrong?” you dare to ask, the question you’d already convinced yourself of the answer to - a loud and clear yes, this was all your fault, all your doing, somehow. 

Joel gapes for a moment before licking his lips and setting down the pail holding the blueberries he’d been collecting. He strides around the planter boxes to where you stand, placing both hands on your shoulders, the touch electrifying as his warm skin burns into yours. Joel knows that it can’t go on like this - you’re one to rarely drop your curiosities and you have a tendency for your thoughts to run away with you. As much as Joel could go on forever, torturing himself with the thoughts of what if until he loses himself to the madness of it, pushing you away just far enough to ease the pain, he knows he can’t run anymore. At the very least, he can give you some closure, make you understand why things can’t be the fairy tale you’ve been envisioning between you two. His stomach churns at the thought of it, but he gives you a weak, reassuring smile.

“Y’know what? Let’s do somethin’ today. This can wait. There’s a place I’ve been, uh, wantin’ to take you,” he says, tightening his grip on your shoulders, sending you looking back up with raised brows at the sudden shift. 

“U-uh-“ you stutter, setting down the watering can and getting your bearings. “S-sure, daddy…”

“Settled then. We can talk there, sweetheart,” he says, drumming his fingers on your shoulders in an air of finality, leaning down to kiss your forehead. The gesture makes your heart flutter again, and you finally feel a smile creeping up on you for the first time today. 

Joel forces you to eat more before you go, saying it’s a bit of a hike and wanting your energy up, sending you impatiently snacking at the kitchen table with your feet tapping rapidly underneath you. 

“Quit,” he hollers from where he’s grabbing his rucksack by the front door, moving to the nearby closet. 

You still your legs with a private scowl when his back is turned. “Where are we going?” you ask, allowing yourself to feel another ounce of excitement creep in as you push your chair out, moving to stand up. Joel’s eyes flick to your plate, then to the growing intrigue in your eyes, his face unimpressed.

“Nowhere if you don’t finish that,” he says plainly, causing you to plop back down into your chair and pout for a moment in a silent staredown with him. You break quickly at his raised brows, resigning yourself to the rest of your food while Joel finishes up flitting around the cabin, packing his pack for the trip - a blanket, some of the blueberries to try, and a revolver. Just what you need for the perfect day out, you think sardonically to yourself. 

“Now can you tell me where we’re going?” you ask impatiently, standing and tilting your now empty plate towards him. When he laughs at your playful insolence, your heart races, soaring high in your chest - a beautiful sight and sound that you realized you had missed more than you had ever anticipated. 

“Patience, blossom. It’s a surprise.”

You’re quickly learning that the woods surrounding the cabin are so much less menacing when Joel is with you. Thick brush, wide tree trunks that once laughed at you, mocked your impending death all those months ago now welcoming you with open arms, lush and green and smiling down upon you as the sun shines through them. Since you’d arrived, you hadn’t strayed too close to them, stepped foot inside the dense, thick line of trees as memories of your time trying to survive threatened to taunt you. But today, Joel is your rock, barreling his way through and showing you just how unafraid you should be, how beautiful the place you now call home is.

“How come we didn’t take Willow if it’s far?” you ask absentmindedly as you peer around the two of you at the scenery. It’s been a quiet walk, Joel’s eyes still leery, head whipping side to side as the noises of the woods creak and crack around you two. Every noise seems to put him more on edge, but he grits his teeth and carries on, reminding himself why he’s doing this. Joel took your hand in his as soon as you started hiking together, not daring to let go for even a moment as you trail behind him, both palms sweaty but refusing to slide out of each other’s grasp.

“It ain’t that far, princess. An’ it’s not safe for her out here, no good trails,” he explains to you in his practical voice, keeping that half step ahead of you to be on the lookout for any lurking danger.

“Hmm,” you offer simply in response, chewing the inside of your lip. It’s hard to enjoy the scenery you usually would, the way the weather seems to be cooperating perfectly with your outing today. Your chest pulses with anxiety at exactly what Joel is planning to say to you once you get there. “Is it much further?” you decide to ask instead, skirting around your own feelings.

Joel glances back at you. “Jus’ through here, actually,” he says as the trees thin slightly, a clearing up ahead that doesn't look much different than the same terrain you’d been passing for the last thirty minutes. When you step out, you see exactly why Joel wanted to bring you here. It’s an oasis buried deep in the wilderness, still shaded from the leaves high above and its own carved out space, perched near the edge of the cliff, opening up to a mountainous view is a spread of steaming water. 

At your quiet exclamation, a breathy noise of half impression and half questioning, Joel turns to you. “Hot springs. Ain’t it somethin’?” he says.

“It’s just… I’ve heard of these, I think. It’s beautiful,” you utter, still breathless as your eyes sweep over the gorgeous landscape in front of you. Joel is on you the next moment, his hand tucking around your waist and pulling you closer, blanketed in a hold against his chest. He rests his head against yours and sighs at the proximity, your warmth and scent enveloping him for the first time in far too long other than in some heat of animalistic hunger, something he’d been denying himself for too long. 

“It is,” he agrees softly. “You can go swimmin’ in there.”

“I- in… nothing?” you ask, your face warming up as you picture yourself stripping down bare somewhere so open, so public.

“As opposed to what, hm?” Joel asks with a tilted eyebrow, confirming as much for you. “Jus’ us out here, and it ain’t nothin’ I haven’t seen yet.”

You just give him a lighthearted scowl, moving out of his grasp to walk towards the water, clambering over the rocks that surround the edges, bending down to graze your fingers along the surface and letting them dip further down. When you pull it back and stand up, surprised with widened eyes, you glance over your shoulder at Joel. 

“It really is hot!” you exclaim, getting an amused half smile from Joel who stands with his arms folded over his chest. “That’s amazing… like a bath…” you murmur as you stare down at the small ripples in the water from your touch, the steam billowing off in inviting clouds. 

Joel moves behind you, fingers skimming the hem at your neckline, then bunching the skirt of your dress, pulling upwards, revealing your front to him inch by inch before it’s tossed aside. He crouches to your feet, your old, busted boots being untied next, his hand tapping each foot as he does to signal you to lift up, a steadying hand on his shoulder as he does it. It all feels so normal, too much like old times for you not to be wary, but your heart surrenders itself to him when he starts to tug on your panties, peeling them down your legs, leaving you bare in front of him. 

You tremble slightly for reasons you couldn’t tell yourself, not even a chill in the air to blame it on with the sun shining brightly above the two of you. That questioning look in your eye, that beg for permission isn’t lost on Joel as he gives you a curt nod. 

“Go on, blossom,” he says with a nudge of his head towards the water, sending you turning to step in. The hot water seeps right to your very soul as your legs submerge first, crouching down slightly to get your upper body. Your weariness melts away, wishing that Joel could come in behind you and shed away the layers of protection he’s been building up to keep you out, but things are never so easy as that. The groan that escapes your lips as he watches your curves lapped at by the water makes Joel’s jeans tighten with need around his crotch, an effect you have on him even in your most innocent meaning moments. Especially those, even. 

“C’mere, c’mere…” he murmurs, beckoning you over to where he sits along the rocks, fully clothed, the stark difference in seeing your bare skin next to his shirt sending sparks dancing across your skin in a strange, foreign way. The complete representation of the two of you so on display for all of nature to see makes your skin warm with embarrassment and that unrelenting, undesired need, your mind falling back to that old war with itself over Joel. Why do you care for him? Is it because he feeds you, clothes you, keeps you warm? Is it some instinctual thing that your brain has latched onto when you know you couldn’t make it on your own? Or is it purely visceral attachment because he showed you pleasures you would have otherwise likely never met without him? Beyond that, is it because you see glimpses past the edges of where he ends, past those parts he curates and shows to the world, to who he really is?

You drift over, standing to meet him at the edge with half your body out of the water where his hands lay open for you, instantly wrapping around your front and holding your back to him.

“Sweet girl,” he says quietly, his lips pressing to your neck. It blooms on your skin, trickling along to your chest where your skin speckles with goosebumps, your nipples turning to taut buds that Joel gazes at over your shoulder. His hands rub, massaging across your upper chest and your shoulders, sending your head lolling backwards to his pecs with a tiny, pleasured roll of your eyes. “You’ve been so patient with me,” he coos, and you’ve found heaven again at his smoother, gentler tone finally making a reappearance. 

“What is it, daddy? W-what’s going on?” you ask him, nearly begging at this point, turning your neck to blink doe-like, worried eyes at him.

“You said somethin’… that day, ‘bout love,” he begins solemnly, the change in tone sending your blood running hot and then cold at the realization that this isn’t setting you up for the romantic interaction you’d been praying for ever since that day he’s mentioning now.

“U-uh-huh…” you murmur, unsure as you shift your weight in his hold, your eyes staring straight ahead now at the endless green sprawled out across the mountains. 

“I know you think that’s what you’re s’posed to say, what daddy wants from you, isn’t it? That you’re supposed to feel that way about me?”

“N-no, no that’s n-not…” you interrupt, knowing how much Joel despises it but unable to help the words blurting out of you, wanting Joel to stop and try to understand you.

“It is, honey,” he clips back. 

“No. I felt it, daddy.” How could he not see? The love you have for him, the way you carry it with you as you trail behind him like a dog each and every day, begging for each crumb of his attention and care? The way you give him starry eyes each time you got lucky enough to be sat between his legs as he likes you, underneath him while he fucks you, locking eyes over the table during meals. Was it not enough, not clear to him the things your heart was screaming so loud inside of you?

“And you feel it now, still?” he asks, his thick hands squeezing around your shoulders before sliding down and locking in front of your chest. 

“I-“ you stutter, contemplating. The doubt he’d cast into your mind these last few weeks wasn’t enough to stop you, to take away that moment from you. Hell, it was the reason you’d even been so adamant to bring him back to you, to drag that Joel screaming and fighting out of whoever the hell this shell of him was now. This sullen, foreign lover that shared your bed, that barely seemed able to tolerate himself, let alone you. “I do,” you say meekly, defeated.

Joel tuts quietly behind you. “You don’t know it, blossom. Love. It ain’t… like what you’re readin’. You don’t… you don’t love someone like me.”

You swallow too hard, your throat hurting as it’s caught on the way down, eyes stinging when you blink, revealing a blurry mess swimming in front of your eyes. You squirm, the movement sudden enough that you wriggle in his grasp, spinning to face him. You feel hot, your body begging to run, to escape the way you feel like your entire world is beginning to crumble inwards. “That’s… you don’t know. You don’t know… what I think!” 

“I know I ain’t what you think I am,” he says, keeping his voice soft while yours wants to do nothing but the opposite. Scream. Shake him. Beg him.

You sputter for a moment, gaping at him. “Yes you are! What are you saying, daddy?” Your body starts to rebel against you, a gentle trembling at your knees that makes it hard to stand so firmly in front of him, the eye contact you’re making with him almost too much to bear in its hot intensity. 

Joel’s arms reach for you, and you want to step back, to refuse what you know you’ll fall for as you have every time. But the moment you’re in his arms and pressed close, his palm flat along the back of your head and beginning to stroke a soothing melody to your soul, you know you’re done for. 

You blink back the tears again, curling your toes into earth beneath them in anger, your fists balling along with the action and refusing to embrace him back. “S-stop…” you snip at him tearfully. When he only shushes you, continuing to stroke your head and now back, you feel furious. “You think I care that you killed… Bryant?” You spit his name, the first time you’ve dared yourself to say it since that day. “Is- is that what this is?!”

“No, baby, it’s not. It ain’t… about that. I’ve killed lots more than jus’ that piece of shit and I’d do it again,” he says. 

“What then!” you cry, squirming more violently in his grasp.

“Hey, hey,” he grunts, holding you tighter before bringing his hands up to your cheeks. “No gettin’ worked up, now, c’mon. Sweetheart, I just can’t care about you the way you want me to. The way you’re expectin’ me to when you say things like that. I ain’t that kind of man.”

Your mind feels like it’s spinning, a strange fog rolling in over it, almost like you’re hearing everything underwater as your ears start to prickle with heat. “W-what?” you finally spit out quietly, knowing your angry, screwed up face is falling, jaw going slack as the words start to sink in. 

“You know that, honey, c’mon. I’m not… It’s not what this is. I’ve told you from the start what you are to me, what I’m doin’ for you.”

“You said… you’d c-care for me. You’d… keep me and - and -“ you snivel, your eyes feeling strained from the weight you’re holding back, the dam of tears threatening to break through.

“An’ I’ve done that, haven’t I? Kept you?” Joel’s hands are thrown up before falling to his sides.

“Well… yes, daddy, bu-”

“Keepin’ ain’t love. And I never promised you that.” His words are spoken with such finality you’re not sure how to respond anymore, to convince him that you think he may love you, too. Maybe it’s delusional, maybe it’s true - you don’t know much about reality these days, you think. But the way Joel looks at you sometimes, the soft stares when you’re curled up to him, when you’re glowing with satisfaction after a night in bed together, when you catch his eye in the middle of some mundane task, it sounds like it’s out of one of your books. If you’d been mistaken then that was on you, you supposed, but Joel had never made it easy to interpret what he was feeling towards you.

You give him a weak nod, eyes falling to the water below you, stepping backwards and sinking yourself down to be met with the warmth of it on your upper body. Joel starts to kick off his shoes and socks before he lifts his t-shirt, revealing his salt and pepper chest and plush belly to you. You hate the way you’re still staring despite how angry you feel, practically salivating as you take in the body that’s done so much for you, watching him bend to strip off his jeans and briefs all in one motion, leaving him bare to you now, too. When your eyes land between his legs, you see he’s halfway to hard, and for some reason your heart sinks.

He steps into the hot spring pool with his intense gaze never leaving where you bob sullenly in the water, your lips starting to dry with how tightly pressed they are, your tongue stuck to the roof of your mouth. You don’t know what to say, how to say anything to him now that you understand what you are to him. You were foolish to think he could ever feel that strongly for you, weren’t you? It had all been an obsession with control, with having you exactly as he wished, never about finding someone to be with, to love. You were doomed to a life without love before, never thinking that was what you’d find out here with Joel, too.

He wades through the water with determination, a prowling lion finding you shrinking in on yourself before he crouches down towards you, the backs of his fingernails curving up your cheek with heated eyes. 

“Say you understand,” he says in a low rumble, all consuming fire behind his stare taking you whole, and despite the way you want to shake your head and cry until your body gives out on you, you just blink, holding his gaze. 

“I-I understand,” you sputter out in a strained voice. Even if every cell in your body wants to fight it, you’re powerless against Joel’s final word. 

He devours you then, hand tight around your cheek, the other coming up to join as his lips meet yours over and over. Bodies melding, him backing you up to the nearest edge of the small pool, and once you’re against the wall of rock your leg is hoisted up around his waist, pulling you flush. Your head is slammed into his chest, bodies already slick from steam and sweat as your cheek bristles against his chest hairs. You cry out, not sure what you want, what any of this means right now if you give in so easily.

But you’re his pet. And you’ll be damned if you aren’t a good one. 

He splits you open the next moment, your hips twitching in protest as he stretches you without warning, your lip bit between your teeth, quivering as you hold back tears. He moves in you, stunted by the water working against you two as a lubricant, making you whimper even louder when all you want is to refuse to show weakness right now. He’s agonizingly slow for only a moment before picking up the pace, your fingers clawing into his forearms, little half moons imprinted in your wake that only spur Joel on, the thought of finding them later, tracing them with his calloused hands - that little reminder of you and how much you belong to him.

“Daddy, please…” you finally let go in a choked voice, your eyes squeezed tightly shut.

“It’s okay, my sweet girl, I know, I know,” he says soothingly while his cock drags in and out of you with painfully delicious sparks shooting up your spine, sending your hands slipping around to his back, digging in there instead. You can’t help the flood of tears that starts to pour out, realizing this is the closest you get to love from him, his way of expressing things he can’t say.

“Please…” you murmur, the salt of your tears spilling into your mouth when it opens. Please love me.

He’s pulling out - rough, domineering hands spinning you to put your back towards him as he wraps an arm around your midsection and slams you back into his own body. He positions his cock between your clenched thighs and wastes no time pushing into your heat again, holding you upright and tight against him as he thrusts into you. His other hand, now free, goes to your neck, wrapping tightly around it, fingers tucking themselves around your collar and tugging on it.

“Mine,” he grunts out breathlessly, making you cry harder, starting to sob, even, before you can help it. You are his, he’s made sure of that. Made you think of him as your entire world just to rip it out from underneath you, say such cruel things, deny you any love in your most vulnerable moments. Your eyes violently squeeze shut with the onslaught of tears when Joel’s hand is over your mouth, stifling your sobs. 

“Cry all you want, sweetheart, daddy’s got you,” he coos in your ear, your head pulled back by his palm and tucked back onto his shoulder where his breathing fans across your cheek as he turns to press his nose into your neck. His teeth graze your flesh, sinking in, and you yelp into his palm when he goes harder, harder, harder on both his bite and his thrusts.

“Let me make it all better, baby,” he rumbles against your newly bruised and busted skin when you gasp out a sob into his hand, his hips rutting heavily and hard into you, your body sore from the straight, rigid position he’s holding you in as he pistons himself into you. You hate that it feels any semblance of good, that his cock is any form of comfort to you right now, this pain a familiar solace you can attach yourself to.

He’s hitting every perfect spot with each press of his cock, lighting your nerves on fire and your body gives out on you as you sob through your sudden climax washing you. You’re wracked with a mixture of cries and moans that sputter out against his palm still held tightly to your mouth while you tremble against him.

“There we go… there we go… good…” Joel coos between his breathy grunts, sliding his hand from your mouth as you come down, now a snotty, half blubbering mess. All that’s left is quiet hiccupping sobs and Joel’s groans as he finishes himself off in you, quickly using your cunt to jerk himself several more times before his hips stutter and then stop completely. He clutches at your chest, tits groped tightly as you’re pressed firmly back against him while he comes. You feel him twitch, every inch he can fit buried deep inside of you as he fills you up with a heavy, pitiful sigh. 

“Jesus…” he whispers, head tilted back, breathing heavily, still not giving you an inch of room to move your body away from him. When he finally lets you go, you fall forward, splashing down into the hot water that feels far too warm now. Joel sidles up to you, wrapping an arm around your waist as he swings himself to the front of you. His sticky forehead tries to press against yours but you turn your head indignantly, eyes averted into the woods and your lips set into a firm scowl. 

“Is that not… enough? For you?” he asks quietly, and you feel the way your set brow instantly lifts a little, taken aback. It makes your newly dissipated tears pop right back up as you contemplate his words and hear the brokenness behind them.

“I f-feel like you’re punishing me, daddy, when I- I’ve been so good…” you whimper out, sucking in a breath to stop yourself from sobbing, your eyes already tired and head throbbing from the crying you’ve done today. “Sh-shouldn’t I be asking you the same thing?”

Joel’s jaw ticks and sets harder, pulling you back by the face to stare into your eyes and show you the shake of his head. “I know I’m hurtin’ you, this is my whole god damned point, sweetheart,” he huffs, composing himself for a moment. “I can’t… You have no idea what I felt when I saw you in danger, what went through my head… but it sure as hell wasn’t love. It was failure. D’you understand?” he asks the last question with desperation, almost, disappointment behind the outright anger in himself.

Your shoulders sink down, your body swaying away from him before pulling yourself up onto the rocks at the edge of the pool, sitting on them with your knees pulled up to your chest, letting the warm breeze start to dry you off. “I… don’t know. I guess so, daddy,” you shrug wearily, glancing over at where he stands up out of the water, starting to follow you. His skin drips fresh, hot droplets onto yours as he trudges past you and to his rucksack, pulling out an old patchwork blanket and laying it along the bed of grass there. He pats the fabric, calling you over to him, and you follow even though right now it’s the last thing you want to do. All you want is to be alone, to think about the absolute mess you’ve found yourself in, loving a cruel, hard man who has no intention of returning the feeling. Your heart aches so much it’s hard to even look at him, his handsome, rugged cheeks, strong, beautiful nose, his dark eyes so wide right now, begging for you to come to him.

“Right here, baby, c’mon,” Joel says, spreading his legs wide as they stretch out in front of him and planting a palm on his thigh. You crawl in between them, lying down on your side and resting your head on his upper thigh. Gentle fingers start to work along your skin, brushing any errant hairs out of your face before he traces soothing circles down your shoulders.

“Y’know this doesn’t mean I don’t care about you. I care very, very much about you, blossom. That’s why I’m doin’ all of this. None of this is a punishment. I don’t want… you to be hurt,” he says quietly.

Too late.

“You said you worry you aren’t enough, but you’re everythin’ I’ve ever wanted, don’t you know that? I told you once… I thought you were a gift… didn’t I? An’ you are, you have been.”

“But you’ve been s-so… so…” you stutter out, still trying to get a handle on your emotions, the tears that never seem to want to stop coming where Joel is concerned.

“I know, I ain’t been actin’ fair to you. I’ve been… thinkin’ too much… an’ I hurt you. I ain’t been doin’ all I promised I would lately. Takin’ care of you like I’m s’posed to.”

You shake your head against his skin. “N-no, not really,” you admit, strangely finding it easy to tell him his shortcomings, unafraid of it upsetting him. “I was worried that it was me, somehow,” you add on quietly, sharing a little more of your truth with him.

Joel lets out a tsk before shaking his head again. “It’s never you, sweetheart. Daddy has his own stuff to figure out sometimes, an’ I was scared if I didn’t focus on that, I’d lose you somehow. Made me feel… insane… hell, even somewhere beyond insane that day… the thought of losin’ you. Hard to shake that after what happened,” he says distantly, his words slow and careful as if his memory is drifting backwards, his mind replaying the horrible thing you both went through.

Your face scrunches a little as you work to understand him. “So… you wanted to see me less because of all of that?”

Joel sighs, a sad sound before he folds himself over enough to kiss the top of your head. “No, I did. It jus’ hurt a lot, baby. An’ daddy doesn’t do very good with hurt. That make sense?”

You hum affirmatively, twisting your lips in a thoughtful expression. “Does it still hurt?” you ask, turning your head to rest the back of it on his thigh, staring upwards at where he looks down at you, the green trees and peeks of blue sky above framing his head.

“Yes,” he says plainly, his eyes shining and truthful. 

“Maybe someday… when it hurts less… you can… feel the same way as me,” you say, words going quieter and less sure sounding with each one, catching your lip in your teeth after the last one, hopeful eyes flashing up at him.

“Oh, honey…” Joel’s lips part, brows going soft before he promptly shuts his mouth, and you watch as he swallows hard. “Let me ask you, blossom, don’t it hurt right now? The way you think you feel about me?”

Your already misty eyes well up and you nod. “Yes, daddy, it does," you say, barely a whisper. Excruciating. Like your heart wants to fall out of your chest with the way you’d follow him anywhere, regardless of how he feels about you.

He gives you a shrug with a sympathetic, crooked upturn of his lips. “So see? It’s gonna hurt, what we have,” he tells you, sounding practical about it, yet your heart sinks, not wanting to believe him.

You sigh sadly, defeat washing over you. You had no idea it could be this complicated, this tender and raw to be with somebody the way you are with Joel. You’d never imagined in your life that you could find something so complex that it makes your head hurt to think too much on it. But you found a glimmer of hope that it didn’t always have to be this arduous in the past, the way things had been before the attack. If only you could get back to that…

“Maybe someday it won’t have to…?” you ask without much conviction, terrified to hear his answer. 

He sighs, giving you another sympathetic turn of his lips. “Yeah, maybe so,” he says with a hand stroking along the side of your head, the hint of hope in his voice giving you the strength to carry on. You turn your body, wrapping yourself around his leg, ankle thrown over his and arm wrapping tightly around his thigh as you snuggle close to it. Joel chuckles softly at your blatant display of clinginess, reaching down and unsticking you from his leg and yanking you upwards, falling backwards onto the blanket with you huddled close to him.

“You’ve been a good girl, honey, you have. Daddy will do better going forward, okay?”

“Why’d you do it?” you ask, muffled into his armpit. “Why’d you act like you don’t care about me anymore?”

Joel swallows with a shaky exhale of breath at your honesty, his chest aching far past any capacity he thought he could live with to hear you so hurt. He knows his influence on you, that every move is studied, absorbed, and interpreted by your sweet, inexperienced mind, and yet he still finds himself surprised at just how much this has affected you.

“I didn’t want either of us to feel hurt anymore, an’ I thought some distance would…” he pauses for a tiny shake of his head as he considers the futility of his next word, seeing where you two are right now, “...help.”

“Please don’t do that again. Please, daddy. It was a-awful. Just… tell me… talk next time… please,” you beg, feeling yourself getting riled up again, somehow not quite out of tears just yet. 

“Shh, shh,” he soothes you, “I won’t. I know have a bad habit of doin’ things all on my own, but I left you all alone too, didn’t I?” Joel asks with a quiet pain in his voice and you nod, sniffling.

“I w-was scared… that was so scary…” you say with a shaky voice, finally facing all the things you’d stuffed down as you’d busied yourself worrying about Joel these past two weeks. Your own trauma was left tossed to the side as you observed those gashes and cuts slowly start to heal with vacant eyes every time you saw yourself in the mirror. You hadn’t felt that it was you, the event and memories that came with it separated from the current body you had to live in, and you didn’t know what to make of it. What to do with the dull ache that filled your chest, unable to turn to anyone. 

“I was selfish to not help you more when you needed me, baby. I - I failed.” A long sigh escapes Joel, followed by a pause as you burrow yourself further into his shoulder, a gentle stream of tears passing down your cheeks. “Can you talk to me now? Am I… too late?”

Your breath catches and you give him a sincere look, shaking your head but hesitating for a moment. What if it’s not what he wants to hear? What if your sadness, your pain, is too much for him?

“Go on, tell me what you’ve been thinking, tell me everythin’ - I won’t get upset, I won’t get mad,” he reassures you, fingers dancing along your shoulder in little circles, running patterns across your skin. 

So you do. You share every thought that comes to mind in a hushed little voice among the rustling trees, recounting from the moment Joel left to the moment he found you. The way you’d tried to fight, desperately thinking of Joel and getting back to him, eventually giving up and slowly starting to assume your life to be over or worse when Bryant had pulled out that knife. Joel listens, quietly yet attentively, letting you take your time, slow to respond but quick to comfort you when it gets to be too much to continue talking. He’s a ball of energy, you can feel it sparking in the air around him, likely ready to do unspeakable things to Bryant all over again, but he keeps his promise to remain cool and just let the words flow out as you need them to. 

Sharing the burden with Joel makes you feel lighter than you’d imagined possible, the pain now dispersed into tiny little pieces between the two of you, and you lay your head across his belly, exhausted and stifling a yawn that Joel returns with an even bigger one of his own. 

“Should we head back, daddy?” you ask tiredly, sitting up, seeing his heavy eyes begging to continue catching up on his much needed rest. You give him a soft grin, relishing in the view of him so relaxed and open to you again, so vulnerable. 

Joel gives a lethargic shake of his head, his lips twitching into a smile back at you. “Let’s stay jus’ a little longer, wanna see you enjoy the water some more.”

“Are you coming too?” you ask as you stand off the blanket, stretching your lazy limbs and letting him unashamedly admire your bare form. 

“Mm-mm, I’ll jus’ watch from here, jus’ gonna… rest my eyes a minute,” he slightly slurs out with his eyes blinking slower and slower as he watches you tip toe your way to the pool again across the rocky terrain, sinking into the warmth with a smile and a relieved sigh. You float on your back, watching the leaves flutter above and send shadows down onto you as the sun starts to get low in the sky, everything becoming painted more golden by the minute. It feels like heaven, a place you feel excited to visit with Joel again and again, your own little secret oasis together. 

“Oh, daddy, I-“ you start to say, sitting yourself up in the water only to completely lose your train of thought when you see Joel sprawled out, head lolled to the side against the blanket, soft snores coming from his parted lips. It pulls a smile from you that turns to a soft giggle as you feel the rest of the weight you’d carried lifting off your sore, aching shoulders to finally see him so at peace. 

You’d be okay, you know you would.

Because you know what Joel doesn’t want to admit, and maybe never will be ready to. But he shows it more than he could ever say it, his actions speaking so loud it’s almost deafening sometimes. Bright, loud, practically written in gorgeous, scrawling letters on his forehead when he finds purpose in taking care of you, softens himself from who he was for you, gives up so much just to keep you safe and happy. Three words you may never hear from his lips, but ones you feel deeply, echoing inside of you in precious moments like these. 

He loves you. 

dividers by @/saradika-graphics !

reminder i have no taglist, follow @beardedjoel-updates to hear about my new fics!