˖᯽ ݁˖Summary: continuing my wintery jackson city joel fic!
˖᯽ ݁˖Warnings: cursing, smut, violence, gore, drinking (most warnings only applicable in later chapters)
˖᯽ ݁˖a/n: hope y'all don't mind me teasing y'all hehe
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The crunch of snow echoed off the rows of still houses as you walked next to him down the street. The air was dry, making your sinuses burn, and chapped lips tingle under your jacket. You didn’t bother to talk, instead finding comfort in the peaceful silence the night had to offer. Most people had gone home by now, abandoning the church and neighbours' houses to rest up before going back to work the following morning. But you had nothing to do. No obligations or chores, and neither did he. Joel never worked Mondays, that you knew, instead choosing to enjoy a slow day to himself when Ellie would go back to school for the week. As for you, Tommy was kind enough to let you have the day off, giving you a bright wink when he insisted you go out for once to “ring in the new year right.”
The sky was pitch black, revealing every star that speckled the night sky whenever you tilted your head up. Your belly was warm from the bitter beer sloshing around with every step you took, leaving you slightly nauseous. For some reason, you always imagined that the whole ‘one night stand’ thing would go down at his house, oftentimes spending afternoons in the guard tower picturing what the inside of his house looked like.
It was always the same thing: a cozy fireplace in the living room flanked by a leather couch and coffee table, surrounded by mocha walls. His bedroom was small with just enough room for a queen-sized bed and a few antique meubles. His house probably smelled of warm bourbon and oak, just like him, with a kitchen full of sunlight and you could almost hear Ellie’s laugh floating down the halls.
You had a house, just like every other resident of Jackson, but he had a home.
It was much to your surprise when Joel trekked past his place, walking straight towards the end of the street where your house sat. You stopped dead in your tracks. This was not the plan, even if there was no agreed-upon plan.
“I thought we’d go to your’s.”
“Huh?” He yelled back, not stopping for you.
Your cheeks grew warm and stomach acid burned the back of your throat. “It’s… Closer.”
“How’d you know where I live?” You never really left your house at all, and when you did it was to hide in the guard tower.
He turned, planting his boots in the ground and setting his hands on his hips. “How’d you know where I live?” A moment then passed with you staring at the ground, retracing this fuck up. You knew he had a point, but you felt uneasy knowing that he already knew where you lived. You spent the last months being discreet, but apparently sneaking around in the morning hadn’t been enough. “Ellie’s sleepin’ anyway.” He added before making his way over to you and resting a hand on your shoulder. “Let’s go. It’s damn cold out here.” His head turned side to side, checking for unlikely stragglers at this time of night. You obliged, putting one foot in front of another and dredging along beside him.
Once inside, the stale air hit you hard as you walked through your empty hallway to hang your coat. You hadn’t accounted for this outcome, never realized that this was just as likely as its favourable alternative. If you did then maybe you would’ve hung some pictures, made a batch of cookies, even if you couldn’t bake for shit.
Where would you get pictures anyway?
Regardless, your grey walls and popcorn ceiling were uninspired at the least, with or without a fresh tray of ginger snaps.
You hardly had a chance to turn around and take his coat before he crashed into you. Smashing his mouth against yours like it was his last meal, kneading his fingers into your jaw and pulling your hips close. His lips were hot, warming you with every steamy kiss, the alcohol on his breath intoxicating every ounce of remaining fear. He was terrifying to most, but even more petrifying when he was this close, nearly in total control of you. Giving in, you threw your arms up, wrapping them around his neck as you sighed into his mouth. He still had his goddamn boots, tracking snow through the corridor.
He ran a hand down your back, cupping your ass and pulling his mouth back, prompting you to jump up and straddle your legs around the puff of his jacket. Your back violently hit the wall as he steadied himself into you, kicking off his wet boots before clumsily running up the stairs with you wrapped around him. He wasted no time finding your room and dropping you onto the bed. The candor of your house slipped from your thoughts as you became fully enthralled with the sensation of his skin against yours. Your cheeks burned as the stubble of his beard rubbed your flesh raw, but it didn’t matter. Nothing could stop you as desperation clouded every sense, causing you to bury your hands under the hem of Joel’s shirt, desperate for more of him. The sweat beading on his forehead glimmered in the moonlight casting through your window, as well as the redness of his cheeks and the mess that was his locks of brown hair. He was beautiful, mesmerizing. You couldn’t take your eyes off him, he was everything you wanted. His touch, his family, the booze on his tongue, his home, the way he whimpered, especially the way he did into your mouth. It was almost like he knew, was carefully anticipating tonight and instead of playing this game alone, he had been moving pieces behind your back.
You fell into a steady rhythm, almost like you have done this a million times before. Pulling back and forth just right, but still fighting for something that felt like power over one another. Joel traced his hand over your side, his warmth grazing every curve of your body under the seam of your shirt, causing you to shiver. He pushed against the plush of your belly and brought his hand to your breast, cupping it tightly. You gasped, skin tingling from the sensation as your nipple hardened under his calloused skin. His lips curved into a smug smile against yours, delighted by your whimper. Joel pulled back, his whiskey brown gaze poised on your expression and pulling you deeper into his torment as your lashes fluttered back at him.
This was the first time you felt at ease in months, fuck that, years.
Then something changed in him. He brought his lips back to yours, kissing you softly as he twisted your nipple between his fingers. The stubble from his jaw scratched into your cheek, pulling an exhale from your lips. He planted sweet pecks against your jaw, then down your neck. You sat up, allowing him to pull your shirt off completely. His tongue swiped over your breast, making you sigh as his honey-sweet mouth swirled around your tender skin. You dug both hands into his messy hair, holding him there for a while and making you press your thighs together to fight the agony building in your core. It was only when his hand made its way down to your waistband that everything went back to being so quick, rushed, where he tore your jeans off like an animal, his fingers immediately finding their way to your damp panties and making you moan.
“This all for me baby?” He teased, tugging the lacy fabric down over your hips, leaving you exposed. You were completely naked, meanwhile he was wearing his clothes from the bar, minus the boots. It felt wrong, unbalanced, and for a brief moment, your arms sprawled across your chest to cover your breasts. “No, no no I wanna see you.” He smiled, urging your arm to the side and tracing the curve of your hips with his eyes, admiring the peaks of your breasts and the strands of hair that fell over your shoulders. “Beautiful.” He whispered as he planted a kiss on your forehead.
You weren’t scared of sex, and Joel wasn’t the first guy you’ve ever been with. But, as much as you hate to admit it, you were scared of Joel. All the guys you’ve dated have always been roughly the same age as you. Inexperienced, too, usually leaving you to do whatever the hell you wanted with them. This felt different, though. This felt real.
Noticing the way your eyes wandered off, deep in thought, Joel interrupted. “This okay?”
