The Wolf You Feed (Part 2)
Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader
Rating: Explicit, 18+ MDNI
Part 2 / ? (Ongoing Series)
Summary: Set in a fictional New England town, you fall for your handsome, intense and outdoorsy neighbor while renting out your parent's vacant summer home during a brutal winter.
Warnings: No Outbreak, AU but with TLoU characters, Large age gap (Reader is 29. Joel is 50). Pet names but no use of Y/N. Reader is smaller than Joel and has hair he can grab. POV Switching. Series contains Angst and lots of Smut (to avoid chapter specific spoilers you can expect things such as but not limited to Unprotected PiV, Cream Pies, Oral, Masturbation, Dom!Joel, Subby reader, Pining, Infidelity)
A/N: In case you are just jumping in, you can read Part 1 here. Part 2 is more smut heavy! I aim to have Part 3 out much sooner as time allows!
Comments / Reblogs are so incredibly appreciated and give me the motivation to write 🧡
Without further ado... for your reading pleasure.
It’s late on Saturday morning and you have a pot of coffee brewing while you shower. You stand in the stream of hot water far longer than you need to. Your thoughts shrouded by your evening with Joel Miller. How rough but passionate his touch was. How he made you get on your knees for him. How he tasted and how badly you wanted… needed more of him. Your hands trace over tender spots where he held onto you and you relish the memory.
He tested your obedience and you followed his orders. You hope it turned him on as much as it did you. You liked surrendering yourself to him. Despite his roughness you felt safe with him. You couldn’t explain it yet but you could feel that his burly facade was hiding something softer.
You finally step out onto the cool tile and dry off in front of the mirror. You pat your hair down with your towel and when the steam starts to dissipate you catch how happy you look. An old you that you have not recognized for a long, long time.
You smile to yourself and resolve to put Joel out of your mind for now or nothing would be getting done today.
The coffee helps wake you up enough to plan out your morning. There is a light coating of fresh snow and the sky looks gray and ominous. A big storm is expected to hit overnight so you head into town to pick up some food and provisions. You make a quick stop at Grind when you see Marlene’s car parked in front.
There are a few customers and you are surprised to see Marlene working. By her expression, she wasn’t too pleased to be there.
“Hey!” You greet her as you approach the counter. “You got stuck working today?”
“Yeah, someone called out.” she rolled her eyes. “Don’t feel too bad for me, it’s your turn next.” she jokes. A teenager is busy checking out a customer and another is making a latte. Marlene steps away for a moment to chat with you.
“So…” she prods. “How did it go?” You fail to hide your smile and thoughts of Joel overtake you once again.
You laugh nervously at her question.
“Lets not jump ahead. Right now it’s just something… casual.”
She is skeptical of your reply and stares at you for a moment, trying to will more out of you, but you don’t give in.
“Ok. Whatever you say.” She rolls her eyes again. “I have to get back to work, but you are going to have to tell me sooner or later.” She points at you and furrows her brow.
“Yeah, Yeah.” You joke. “See you Monday!”
You leave the shop and cross the street to the grocery store. The place is mobbed and the shelves wiped out of the most in demand items. You grab a few things and chat with your mom who calls you to check in. Rather, to tell you all about her excursions and gossip about people you have never even met. You don’t mind and just tell her things are going well, you like your job and let her ramble on, not really listening. Mindless chatter in your ears while you shop.
She does catch you off guard when she mentions hearing about the storm and “Joel will plow for us if we ask him to” casually. Your ears perk at the mention of his name but you act cool and collected. You don’t like the way she volunteers his services so nonchalantly. It strikes a nerve in you and reminds you of how she always insinuates you are incapable of being responsible. It makes you feel defensive for Joel, too. Her disregard for his time further illustrating how self centered she is. This was one of the factors that pushed you away for so many years.
“Your father will call him later—”
Absolutely not. You interrupt her sternly mid-sentence.
“Mom. I will take care of it.” The last thing you want is your parents harassing Joel or trying to control you from across the country. This was a string you needed to make clear was not going to be attached to your current living arrangement.
“I have things under control.”
“Oh… ok then.” Her tone is short and then she is off talking about her beach plans again. This goes on for another 10 minutes and by now you are in the checkout line. You say your goodbyes and calculate another week or two before you have to do that all over again.
You hadn’t really considered the snow aftermath but you had a shovel and your car would be good enough to get out of your driveway… probably. You were not going to bother Joel regardless.
The call puts you in a bad mood as you drive home. The spitting snow reminds you of the impending storm. The cheerful start of the day is gone and replaced with a heavy feeling.
You drive past Joel’s house and wonder if he is home and what he is doing. Wonder if you should call him. Wonder why he has not reached out to you either. You don’t want to be that girl. It’s not like you and him are anything. You shouldn’t be expecting anything from him. However, you still feel a faint sting of disappointment. Maybe he had his fun and that was it. Self doubt poisons your mind but you try to swallow it back.
The rest of the day you spend eating junk food and watching movies on Netflix. You fall asleep on the couch early in the night before forcing yourself into bed. The wind and snow has ramped up and your power flickers.
You pull your comforter tightly over you and take one last look at your phone but you already know there is nothing from Joel.
Saturday Night (Joel POV)
Joel sits up in his loft on his worn out couch, strumming his guitar. He takes a sip of his whiskey, neat, and poorly mouths the words to his song.
He plays a few more riffs but feels distracted and unfocused. All attempts to keep busy have been ineffective today. He spent the afternoon preparing his truck and stacking firewood. Once that work was done he had nothing but free time.
The truth is, you have been on his mind. It was hard not to think about you. He had only explored the tip of the iceberg with you and wanted more. He knew it wasn’t right to pursue you for a magnitude of reasons, but the desire was not waning. He felt things with you that he had not felt in a long time. Feelings he was afraid to give in to.
Joel replaces the guitar in his hands with his phone and hovers your name in the recent contacts. This isn’t the first time today he has almost called you.
What are you doing, stupid. He thinks to himself.
He shuts down the moment of weakness and locks his phone. He knocks back the last of his whiskey and heads downstairs. He turns on his TV to the local news and listens to them fuss over the storm. He knew tomorrow would be a busy one for him with his side hustle as the plow guy many locals depended on. Just another thing to keep him busy.
He goes to take a shower before calling it an early night.
The shower is hot and comforting and in no time his mind is wandering back to you. He thought about your brief evening together and how intriguing you were. How bold you were. How tight you were when he was fingering you and how needy you sounded.
He puts a fist against the shower wall to brace himself and hangs his head low so his shoulders block the bulk of the water. He uses his free hand to wrap around his semi-hard cock. He remembers your playful hold on him and gently strokes himself. It doesn’t take very long to get hard as he relives that moment in his mind. His strokes get harder and faster and he wishes he was fucking into you and not his own hand.
He groans as he comes and watches his spend drip down the shower walls and into the drain. His few moments of bliss quickly fade away. He balls his fist in frustration at his unfulfilling release. He needs more. He needs you.
Your Sunday morning begins with anything but peace and calm. You are startled awake by the grinding sound of heavy metal dragging across pavement. You look outside your bedroom window and see the snow has blanketed everything and there are still a few lingering flurries dancing in the sky. The trees are struggling with bent over branches coated in ice and snow.
Leaving your warm and cozy blanket fortress is the last thing you want to do. You lazily grab a hoodie to pull over your oversized shirt you slept in and your pajama shorts and make your way to the front of the house. The floor is cold on your feet but the air is warm. You cranked the thermostat before bed, making you feel rebellious in the moment but it seemed silly and wasteful now.
You look out the front window that faces the driveway. There you see Joel Miller in his truck, plow attached, barreling towards you and crashing into a snowbank he started building up. He looked so serious and professional backing up his truck with an arm stretched across his seat as he looked over his shoulder. He was so focused he was not aware you were watching him and his scowl at work.
It doesn’t take long before that familiar ache between your legs returns. The longing to let Joel have his way with you. A desire that is getting harder and harder to ignore.
The realization that you look like you just woke up from bed hits and you scramble to the bathroom to run a comb through your hair and brush your teeth. You can hear the drag of the plow continue as you finish up and then rush to the kitchen to put on a pot of coffee. The stove clock reads 7:32am. Way too fucking early for a Sunday morning.
You hear his truck door slam and the sound of crunchy snow under his boots. He is walking with a heavy foot and grabs the shovel leaning by your door.
Joel is shoveling your walkway, weaving a modest path for you to get from your house to your driveway without trudging through the snow. You can hear him grunt as he tosses the heavy snow out of the way. What would have taken you probably an hour takes him just a few minutes.
He plunges the shovel into a snowbank when he reaches the end of the path and leans on it to catch his breath. He looks exhausted and rightfully so. You want to comfort him in whatever way you can. At least offer him some respite to show your appreciation. As much as you hate to admit it, you would have been totally fucked if you had to tackle your driveway with your inadequate self. Joel saves the day, again.
You crack open the front door and call out to Joel, reluctantly interrupting his moment of peace.
He slowly turns in your direction when he hears your voice. His eyes scrunch as he makes out your figure hanging out the door. He gives a lazy wave of acknowledgment.
“Come inside and warm up? I made coffee.”
He picks up the shovel to return it and makes his way towards you.
“Yeah, ok. Just for a minute” He follows you inside.
Joel closes the door hard behind him and scuffs his boots on the mat to get off any snow. He brushes his hand quickly over the top of his head to knock off any lingering snow and unbuttons his jacket. He empties his pockets and puts his wallet and phone on the end table. He saunters over to you as you hand him a fresh cup of coffee, black.
“Thanks.” He manages a smile. He returns to the living room and groans as he lowers himself to the couch. He recklessly sips his piping hot beverage and seems immune to the searing heat and delighted to have it. He rests his mug on the table and leans back and closes his eyes. His hand comes up to his brow as he pinches his thumb and finger together across his eyes.
You lean against the doorway between the rooms and sip your coffee. You notice how tired and worn he looks. His damp hair is shiny. His heat is melting the last few snowflakes and making him look messy and wet. His jacket is open and disheveled and his flannel undershirt is haphazardly draping on him as he slouches back.
Despite all that he is still as handsome as ever and you like seeing him this way. Vulnerable in this out-of-character state.
“Tired.” He grunts with his eyes closed and it snaps you out of your thoughts. “Been a long morning.”
You take a few steps towards him to close the gap.
“I’m too old for this.” He sneers as he looks at you with lazy, heavy lids.
“You didn’t have to worry about me, you know…” Your voice trails off as you wonder if he was there on his own volition. You can’t help but ask. You need to know.
“Did… did my dad call you?”
“No.” he answers firmly with a suspicion in his tone, almost sounding offended.
“Good. I mean, thank you. That was really nice of you to come over.” You pause and smile at him. You feel guilty, but also have never had someone so capable looking out for you before.
“I was going to shovel it.”
He raises his brow at the ridiculous claim.
“No you weren’t. Wouldn’t have let you if I saw ya out there.”
“S’nothing. I don’t mind… having an excuse to see ya.” His brows raise and wrinkle in the middle. He has a softened expression as he looks into your eyes.
Your heart skips a beat and is heavy in your chest, you wonder if he can hear it beating. Having an excuse to see you. You replay it in your mind. He wants to see you. You feel stupid for getting carried away thinking otherwise.
You put your coffee down next to his and casually walk around to the back of the couch. There is a force compelling you to comfort him. Encourage him to relax. That fluttering feeling in your stomach surges. Joel Miller is exhausted on your couch and isn’t going to be putting up much of a fight if you fuss over him and you want to fuss over him.
You stand behind him and reach your arms down and spread them slowly from his shoulders down to his sides. He lets out a tiny moan as you circle his taut muscles. You pinch and massage them as you go. You lean forward and bring your mouth just behind his ear.
“You don’t need an excuse to see me.” It comes out softly and seductive. You can feel his body tense under your words.
You rake your hands back up to his shoulders and curl your fingers under his open jacket. He halfway cooperates as you tug the jacket off his shoulders and pull it away from him. It's wet and heavy and most of the snow has melted into it by now. You toss it on the back of the couch and return to his shoulders. Your hands massage him and you can feel his muscles tight and knotted under your grasp. His head tilts back into the couch as he lets you tenderly work him.
“Feels good. Really good.” He says in a low, almost inaudible tone. His exhaustion has let his body surrender to you and he isn’t fighting to be in control.
You lean forward again and plant your mouth on his jawline with a sensual kiss. His damp whiskers prickle your cheek as you drag it against him and go to his ear.
“Let me take care of you.”
He makes a deep, throaty sound in response.
His flannel is damp and hot and he looks so uncomfortable and stuffy now that he has been inside a while. You slide one of your hands down to his chest and unbutton his shirt. You are halfway down and he reaches his arm up and curls his fingers behind your neck, pulling you down to his mouth. You can feel the shift in the room, like you woke a sleeping bear.
“Come here.” He uses his free hand to tap his lap and loosens his grip on you.
You walk around to the front of the couch and stand in front of Joel. His legs are spread and he is still lazily slouched back but he motions for you to join him. His half unbuttoned shirt teases you with his thermal undershirt peeking out, still hiding his bare skin. At least you are getting closer.
You step towards him and move to straddle him on the couch. You have a leg on each side and he puts a hand on each hip under your baggy sweatshirt.
His hold is tender but makes you melt when you feel the wingspan his fingers have on you. His thumbs brush over your hip bones and trace down to the soft skin just above the crease of your thigh as he casually dips them along your waistband. His touch sends sparks through your skin.
He lazily stares you down with a narrow gaze over his nose, still resting his head back.
“Keep going.” He closes his eyes as your focus goes back to finish unbuttoning his shirt.
As you get close to his jeans you can feel him hardening and straining against the zipper.
You pop open the button and carefully unzip him. His cock springs loose in his boxer shorts. It teases you behind the cloth barrier and you reach for his waistband so you can grab a hold of him. His fingers dig into your sides and he pushes you back slightly to make you stop. He fights through the laziness and is now fully alert.
“You want my cock?” He grits through his teeth. “Think it’ll fit in your pretty pussy?” He drags one of his hands to your center and grabs you through the fabric. He smirks as he can feel you are wet and damp through your thin sleep shorts. His fingers sneak into the leg hole of your shorts and he teases your clit through your cotton underwear. You clench remembering the stretch from his thick fingers deep inside you just the other night.
“Yes–” your words catch in your throat as he pushes your underwear aside and thumbs over your folds. He barely touches you and opts to tease you instead, deliberately feathering over your swollen clit. You reach down to grab the wrist of his occupied hand and grind into his fingers. Your body craves the friction.
His eyes darken and with a devilish smirk he takes his hand back and watches as you slide off him to take off your clothes. He looks at your body with a sleazy ferocity. If any other guy looked at you that way you would have slapped him, but not Joel Miller. You want his attention and you like the way it makes you feel when he is eyeing you like a starving wolf.
You pull off your hoodie and shirt and toss them to the piles of clothes building up on the floor. You stand in front of him completely naked. Exposed. Joel brings out a side of you that makes you feel confident and bold. The way he looks at you with intrigue and desire encourages you. You take a brief moment to tease him back and drag your hands over your breasts and one continues down to your cunt.
Joel stirs in his seat. He is so easy to rile up. He pulls off his flannel and kicks off his boots. His thermal long sleeve remains hugging his body in all the right places. He arches forward as his hand grabs his thermal from the back and pulls it off over his head. It makes a prickly, staticy sound as it brushes over his hair. He tosses it to the ground and for the first time you can fully take in his body without so many layers hiding him.
His broad shoulders and chest taper down to a narrowed waist. His body is rugged and defined. For an older man his physique had been well maintained thanks to his lifestyle. His tanned skin and his messy, dark hair with silver streaks sends tingles through you. You have never been so physically drawn into someone before on a level that almost felt primal.
His eyes sweep your body up and down as he drags his thumb along the side of his mouth and rakes his fingers through his scruff on his chin. He bites his lip while he drinks you in.
“Damn, baby.” He curls his thumbs inside the band of his jeans and tugs them down along with his boxers. He kicks them off his legs and reaches towards you, wrapping around the back of your thigh and beckons you to return to him.
Your eyes gape as you take in his sheer size. It is intimidating but makes you ache with desire.
You are back in his lap straddling him with little coercion needed. You stretch an arm behind you to hold yourself up and the other touches yourself. This position lets him take all of you in; bare, exposed and wanting. Wet and needy for him.
His hand reaches for his throbbing cock. He palms himself with a few labored strokes. He is already beading precome at the tip. You feel a pang of jealousy and wish it was your body wrapped around him. He catches the hungry way you are looking at him. You catch how much he likes it.
“You wanna ride this cock?” He brushes the tip against your opening and you let out a whimper in response and lurch forward. You brace yourself on his forearm and your other hand pushes against his chest to keep yourself upright. His skin is firm as you grip into him. His body hot and radiating like a furnace.
“Haven’t gotten you off my mind since Friday.” He confesses. “Thinking about how tight my cock would fit in you.” He teases you with the tip again. Your whimper grows into a needy moan making him harder. Making him want you that much more.
He crudely spits into his hand and rubs it along his shaft and then he notches it at your entrance. You can feel your body begging to be filled with him and you’ve been wet since you woke up to him in your driveway. You’ve lost count how many times you imagined Joel fucking you. He puts his hands back on your hips with a rough grip and you move your hands to his shoulders as you slowly lower yourself onto him. He helps keep you steady.
“Joel! Fuck–” You moan. His thick cock sears your skin as it stretches you. He is slowly splitting you open inch by inch and you have never felt more full. He lets you control the pace for now, with pained restraint. He searches your eyes to make sure it isn’t too much. He knows he is a lot to take but the slowness is making him go insane.
Joel lets out a grunt as he gets closer to bottoming out inside you. Your walls clench around him and the sweet pain from the stretch subsides as your body adjusts to his size. You slowly ride him up and down until you have him fully sheathed inside you. Your body is so full you don’t even have room to form complete thoughts. You can only focus on his burning hot heat inside you, tearing you open. Every moment before this pales in comparison.
“Fuck. So tight.” he snarls. His grip on you tightens as he pulls your body up and then thrusts into you, hard. He keeps the pace slow but more forceful than you were. He tries to be gentle but you can feel his patience slipping away.
One hand drags to his biceps where sweat is glistening. As he lifts you his muscles flex and contract he makes it seem so effortless to maneuver your smaller frame. Everything about Joel is big and strong and rigid. The epitome of masculinity.
Each thrust up into you makes you dizzy. You can feel yourself on the verge of orgasm, cock drunk and blissed-out. His heavy breathing and hitches in his voice send you over the edge as he pounds up into you. You ride the wave as he fucks you through it. Your arms entangle in each other and your bodies slap together, sweaty and panting. Your incoherent words and moans heighten with each thrust.
He makes you feel alive and pleasured in a way that you have never felt before. It is intoxicating.
As you start to come down from the high you feel him getting close to his own release but he is still reserved and careful with you. Through gritted teeth he tries to keep his pace steady and builds you back up, never quite letting you recover.
“Joel, Don’t… don’t hold back.” You manage to get out of your lips. You stare into him with hooded eyes and can only imagine how fucked out you look. He brings one of his hands up to the side of your face and strokes his thumb tenderly across your cheekbone.
He leans into you and in a sweeping motion he twists and lays you back into the adjacent couch cushion. It is more of an oversized loveseat and not very ideal. He barely loses contact with your body as he positions himself above you. You can feel his weighty cock press into you and pin you in place as he leans forward, crowding you in the cramped confines of the couch.
His mouth is on yours; rough and messy. He bites at your lip as he pulls away and reigns in his focus. Your legs clamp around his sides and your arms hold onto his neck. Your fingers snake into his hair and you grab hold of him. He slides his hands down your sides so he can hold you close as he resumes fucking into you.
With this leverage, he somehow hits you deeper than before. His cock kisses the deepest parts of you again and again. Your sides bruise as he grips you harder. All his gentle inhibitions have been replaced with raw, unhinged furor.
His pace quickens as you can feel him coming undone inside you. He is in a frenzy fucking you hard and deep and his grunts get louder. The heavy feel of him dragging out of you and shoving back with such force has you crying out his name along with a steady stream of expletives.
You are so close but you beg your body to hold on, you don’t want the feeling to end. You want to live in this moment forever being trapped under Joel and being filled with his cock. You moan out his name as the second orgasm explodes through your body.
“Fuck, baby..” his body quivers as he tries to hold out long enough for you to peak.
He suddenly sits up and groans as he drags completely out of you. You whimper at the loss of him inside you and his wet, leaking cock slaps onto your belly. He strokes himself once with a heavy fist and grunts as hot ropes of cum spurt onto you. You relish being branded in his release. It coats your stomach and drips messily onto your cunt. You revel in the last fleeting moments of your orgasm being shared with Joel’s.
He languidly strokes himself a few more times until he is empty. His chest rises and falls quickly as he breathes shallowly. His muscles weaken as the high from his climax rolls through him.
He leans forward and presses his forehead to yours. The sticky mess spreads between your bellies as his body pushes into you. It's lewd and you love it. You love how filthy Joel makes you feel. All you can smell is sweat and sex and Joel.
He presses a kiss to your forehead and then sits back to catch his breath. Your bodies untangle and he goes back to his original spot on the couch. You stay laying back lazily with a leg draped casually over Joel and the other bent at the knee. You still need a moment for your legs to be in any condition to work properly.
One of his hands rests on your thigh and he grazes it with comforting drags of his fingers. He doesn’t say anything but the gentle contact from him is welcome. The connection you share now is so contrasting to when he was railing you. It is a side of Joel that feels like a privilege granted to you.
The calm is interrupted by a vibration of his phone. Joel reluctantly picks it up to look at the screen and groans with disappointment. He answers it but doesn’t stop rubbing you gently while he conducts his business.
“Fred, I’ll be there in 20.”
You can’t make out the other end entirely but you can detect a man's voice. He doesn’t sound happy.
“Yeah, I’m running behind. Your house is next.” Joel tries to placate him. More chatter and you start to feel bad for holding him up.
You move off of Joel and make your way towards the bathroom to wipe up the mess on your belly and grab your silky bathrobe off the door.
“Ok, Fred. Be there soon.” You hear him hang up and toss his phone down with a grumble. He turns in your direction as he stands up to pull on his jeans.
“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I gotta’ go.” His tone is solemn now. You pop out of the bathroom and catch him using his undershirt to wipe up his mess. It’s gross but you like seeing him being comfortable being a typical, nasty man in your presence. Points for being resourceful.
“I heard. Didn’t mean to hold you up.”
He glares at you and smirks as you make your way back to him.
“Didn’t mind one bit.” He takes a few steps towards you to meet you halfway and kisses you on the top of your head while he wraps his arms around you. He breathes you in with his embrace and it feels so perfect being wrapped up by Joel. A final moment before it all ends and he pushes away from you, reluctantly.
“And s’not a big deal. Snow aint going anywhere.” He says as he puts his flannel on, sans the thermal, and starts to button back up.
His messy hair is mostly dry now and even more unruly with wild curls. You feel that fire inside you building again. It’s insatiable. You don’t want him to go.
He laces up his boots and gathers his things.
“Ok. I’m gonna hop in the shower.”
“Ok, baby.” You exchange a final look and go your separate ways. You feel his eyes on you as you return to the bathroom.
When you go back to the living room he is gone. All that remains is his dirty shirt and an empty coffee cup.
After a few more hours of plowing Joel returns home.
He takes a shower just long enough to wash the sweat and stink of exhaust from his body.
He pours himself a whiskey and collapses on the couch to relax.
His body is weary, but his mind is still firing. It has not stopped. He has to face the reality that he is falling for you, whether or not he should be.
He pulls out his phone and stares at it blankly. Hesitating. He scrolls through his contacts until he finds the one that he has been avoiding. He knocks back his drink and sends the text.
Joel: Tess. We need to talk.
