𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐭𝐰𝐨 𝐨𝐟 ’𝐭𝐞𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬’
𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: 𝐌𝐃𝐍𝐈 𝟏𝟖+ DBF!Joel, dirty talk, finger sucking, female/ male receiving, dark!Joel!, manipulation, Joel’s heavy Texan accent, pet names (sweet pea, baby, honey, sweetheart, my girl) possessive Joel, unspecified age gap, a tiny smudge of soft Joel
a/n: I’m glad people enjoyed ‘𝐭𝐞𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬’. truly, thank you for liking it. @spectralgalaxygauntlet @pedrofan @dxrkslvt I went way overboard on this one. word count: 3200
˖ ࣪⊹𐙚 — ˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗ — ᡣ𐭩 ྀིྀ
his hand stings where you bit him and God, the fire in it shoots straight to his gut.
but when you roll away and bolt for the door, cracked phone in hand, something in him snaps.
he's off the bed in an instant, boots hitting the floor with a heavy thud, jaw clenched so tight it aches.
your name rips out of him like a warning. Like a command.
he follows. Fast. Relentless.
the motel hallway is dim, cheap lights flickering as he slams through the door after you, eyes locked on your retreating form, heart hammering not from chase, but from fear.
but of finally having you..and watching you run anyway.
you’re breath comes out uneven from your lips as you push through the heavy doors that led down the exit of stairs
“shit..shit..fuck” you whisper under your breath as you skid to the first step of the long awaited stairs, heart beating faster than ever as you hear his familiar heavy boots behind you
doesn’t call your name again.
just moves, bots heavy on the metal stairs behind you, each step a thunderclap in the narrow stairwell.
you can feel him like a shadow, like heat at your back, and when you trip slightly on the next landing, his rough, scarred and tan hand shoots out, grabbing your wrist before you can fall or flee further.
his voice is low. Rough with pursuit and something darker. Relief? Fear? Rage?
he spins you gently but firmly against the cold wall, caging you in with one arm braced beside your head, the other still gripping your wrist and your side.
your chest heaves. Your lip’s bleeding where you bit it running, something you didn't even realize until now as you feel the stinging pain on your bottom lip. And that cracked phone?
he doesn't even look at it.
his eyes are locked on you.
Wild, Dark, full of Storm and Fire.
but when he speaks, it’s not anger that breaks through.
you let out uneven heavy breaths from running, swallowing lightly as you stare up at him.
“I wanna go to beat the shit out of my dad”you murmur under your breath, licking your lip as it continues to bleed, holding it a shiver as the pain shoots through you.
your eyes leave his to travel down at his big hand holding down your wrist on your side, the one you had bitten earlier before bolting.
your teeth marks are clearly evident on his tanned scarred hand.
he follows your gaze down to his hand, the bite mark deep, red, already starting to bruise.
and instead of flinching, he flexes his hand, slow, deliberate.
a low sound rumbles in his chest.
“Yeah” he murmurs, voice rough as sandpaper.
“Daddy’s a bastard for puttin’ this on you”
his eyes lift back to yours.
the arm at your head shifts just enough that his thumb brushes over your bleeding bottom lip.
“You really wanna beat him up?” his voice drops lower, almost gentle now.
“Or you just wanna run ‘cause you felt it too?”
he leans in closer, close enough that his breath warms your skin, close enough that you can feel the truth before he says it.
“That I didn’t have to chase you”
his thumb smears the blood on your lip.
“You ran ‘cause you wanted me to follow”
your heart pounding harder than ever.
the way you stiffen, the way your breath hitches.
the way your pulse jumps under his touch, the ebay your body responds to his, the way your heart thunders between you like war drums.
he leans in, closing that last, dangerous distance.
his lips brush the side of your jaw.
his voice dark, ragged whisper.
hot on your skin, rough with desire.
‘You like it, don’t ‘cha? Being chased”
the arousal between your legs was proof.
you say nothing, breath still uneven, licking your lips again.
the taste of metallic deep in your mouth, blood still continues to seep on your bottom lip.
he watches the slow drag of your tongue over that split, bleeding lip.
he watches the flash of red on your teeth and something primal blooms in his chest.
without thinking, without asking, he closes the little distance.
his mouth crashes onto yours.
the taste of copper floods his senses, mixing with the warmth of you, and he groans into the kiss like it's been years of minutes.
one hand fists in your hair. The other stays locked around your wrist at your side, still caging you against the wall, still claiming you like he’s waited too damn long to let go now.
when he pulls back, just an inch, it’s only to breathe.
to look into your wide eyes.
“Should’ve stayed in that bed” he rasps “Should’ve let me ruin us both there”
his thumb smears blood across your bottom lip again, slow this time.
“Now? ‘m gonna do it anyway”
you feel your knees wobble at his words.
eyes still wide eye though with a much deeper cause.
he watches that flash of something, whatever it is, cross your face and knows.
there, in the tight space of the stairwell, with his body pressed against yours, he can feel the want in you.
even if you haven't named it yourself yet.
the way your heart beats like a drum, the way your breath hitches, the way your mouth parts, just barely, just enough to drive him over the edge.
your mouth move against his.
he lets out a groan that comes from somewhere deep, something raw and untamed.
his grip on your hair tightens just enough to tilt your head back, the back of your head hitting the cold wall with a small thud, giving him better access as his mouth moves over yours with a hunger he’s spent years locking away.
gently at first, then harder when he tastes blood again, and the sound you make?
his other hand releases your wrist only to slide around your waist, hauling you up against so there’s not an inch of space between you.
you can feel every hard line of him now.
“Fuck” he mutters against your mouth, breathing heavy.
his lips trail down your jaw, to the pulse point in your throat.
kissing , nipping as his voice drops low and wrecked.
though he knows the answer.
wants confirmation that you’re just as gone as he is.
you shake your head. Pathetically. “No” you whimper softly, arms quickly going around his neck to keep him close.
he lets out a ragged sound.
like you shattered something vital inside him.
his body locks tight against yours, hard against soft, as he kisses his way back up to take your mouth again.
his tongue slips between your lips, tasting blood and wants. Yours.
his hand moves down, lower, his long thick fingers splayed wide across your thigh, his touch like fire, like a brand
you open your mouth just slightly, your tongue touching his.
slowly, so achingly slowly, your tongue wraps around his, hands moving up to his greying waves.
he lets out a sound that’s half-growl, half-groan as his tongue tangles with yours, as he presses you harder against the wall to feel more.
his hand on your thigh slides higher, his thumb tracing the edge of your skimpy shorts, so close, but not giving you what you want, and his body arches into yours, every hard line of him wanting.
It comes out as a ragged whisper against your mouth, voice taut.
moaning softly against his mouth, pulling at his greying soft waves you beg desperately, biting down on his lip and sucking it softly after
the word tears out of him like a curse, like a prayer, as your teeth sink into his lip and then soothe it with that sweet, wet tongue.
“Gonna ruin you” he growls against your mouth, breath ragged
“Right here. Against this wall”
his hips roll forward once.
the moan that rips from his throat is raw with need.
he pulls back just enough to look at you, your swollen lips, dark eyes high on bloodlust and something deeper
“Not till I hear my name on those pretty lips when I make you come”
you tug at his hair, moaning his name breathlessly
his hips slam forward once.
kissing you like he’s dying, like this is the last thing he’ll ever do.
his hand slips under your shirt, calloused fingers dragging up your spine, possessive and hot.
“Gonna make you say it over and over” he growls against your lips
another roll of his hips. “Till every breath is my name” another moan torn from you both.
you chase his movements with your own, rolling your hips and letting out a loud whine along with his name
his hips roll forward in instinct, grinding against you just right, making you whimper again
he drops one hand down to your ass, holding you hard against him as he bites into your neck, marking you
his voice comes out shattered
“Gonna come for me right here? Against this wall? With my name on your lips?”
his thumb moves from the waistband of your skimpy short, down and low in between your clothed clit
you moan loudly, tilting your head forwards
forehead pressing against his shoulder
“right here, please” your fingers fisting his hair and tugging just right for a groan to leave his chapped lips
the sound of your voice, shattered, close, his, sends a jolt straight through him.
“That’s it,” he growls against your neck, voice rough like gravel. “Come on my hand. Let me feel you.”
his thumb presses harder, circling fast and relentless over your clit through the thin fabric, grinding just right as his hips roll up into yours, teasing the both of you with what’s right there.
you’re trembling. Shaking against him. Forehead buried in his shoulder, fingers twisted in his hair like you’ll fall apart without holding on.
and hell, if he’s honest?
“Say it,” he demands, breath hot against your skin. “Say my name when you come.”
one more second before you break
a sharp cry rips from your throat as the orgasm hits, violent and sweet and his, your body clenching around nothing but air and need while Joel holds you up through it all.
“Joel!” You scream it into his shoulder like a lifeline, and God damn if that doesn’t make something inside him swell with pride so deep it hurts.
he keeps moving his hand slow through the aftershocks, drawing them out, as he kisses the side of your head, whispering low
tucking your face in his neck, your lips trail over his skin, sucking lightly
he hisses at the sensation, arching into you as you mark his neck, his fingers still moving gently between your legs.
his voice is a ragged whisper, rough as whiskey and dark as sin
his lips find your ear, the shell of it, the spot where it's sensitive and soft, and he nips at it, almost playfully, before continuing.
"So sweet and pretty for me."
his words only make the ache between your thighs more intense, grinding down on his hand as you lick the spot you had marked on his neck
at the slick heat of your tongue against his skin, at the way you grind down on his hand like you’re already chasing another high.
“Baby” he grits out, hips jerking up instinctively. “You gonna come again for me?”
his thumb circles slow now, teasing, maddening, drawing out every tremor, every whimper. He can feel how ready you are.
he shifts just enough to bite your earlobe before whispering
“Gonna ruin you properly when we get back to that room… but right now? Right here?”
his voice drops to a dark rasp.
“I’m gonna make sure you forget every name but mine.”
a soft desperate noise leaves your throat “want your cock” you moan against his neck “please Joel” you nuzzle your nose against his warm skin
his whole body clenches at those words
low in your ear, needy, breathed out, against his skin, and the sound that tears out of his throat is a ragged moan of need.
his hand tightens on you, holding you in place against him, as he growls against your neck
"You have no idea how bad, how long I've--
but he doesn't get to finish.
because that's when the world comes crashing back in.
the sound of footsteps. Coming from further down the stairwell.
Footsteps. Distant. Getting closer.
and just like that, reality slams back in like a bucket of ice water.
his thumb keeps circling slow, deliberate, mean, drawing out your whimper as his lips brush your ear one last time.
“Don’t you dare stop,” he growls, voice rough with warning and need. “Not for them. Not for anyone.”
his hand tightens on your thigh, holding you up, keeping you right where you are, grinding against him, even as the footsteps echo nearer, even as the shadows shift on the landing below.
“Let ‘em see,” he murmurs darkly against your neck. “Let ‘em hear what I do to you.”
another slow grind of his hips under yours—one silent promise:
“I’m not done with you yet sweetpea.”
he can feel the vibrations of your moan against his neck where you're pressed so close, and it makes his blood burn hotter.
the footsteps are closer now, voices too. Muffled laughter from somewhere below.
and still, he doesn't stop.
his thumb keeps working slow circles, drawing out every shiver, every whimper you try to hide against his skin.
his hips roll up once, just enough to make you gasp, and when he speaks again, it's a dark whisper only you can hear:
“Let ‘em hear what I do to my girl.”
his teeth graze your earlobe before he adds,
“Go on… say my name again.”
“Joel” you moan against his neck, tugging his hair harder, his head tipping back just enough for him to moan breathlessly
"Fuck Yes.” He growls it like a prayer, like he’s been waiting his whole life to hear that sound from your lips in this moment.
the footsteps are right there, just one landing down, and yet he doesn’t stop. Can’t stop.
his thumb presses harder, circling just right as his hips roll up to meet yours, grinding slow and deep. Your whine spills into his neck, muffled and desperate, and he feels it, the way your body tenses again, already chasing another peak.
“Come on,” he rasps against your ear. “Let ‘em hear it. Let ‘em know who you belong to.”
his voice drops lower, rougher, as the voices below draw nearer
you come with his name leaving your lips, licking your lips as you tuck your face deeper into his neck
you shudder against him, and his arm tightens around your waist to keep you close.
his lips find your hair, your temple, soft, reverent kisses as your body begins to still.
somewhere below, the voices finally fade, followed by the sound of a door shutting.
for a few moments, it’s just the two of you, heavy breaths and thumping hearts.
he loosens his hold on you just enough to look at you, his fingers gently tucking stray hairs back behind your ear.
you let out a breath, tilting your head back and away from his neck
he watches you tilt your head back, lips parted, chest rising and falling fast, and something deep in his gut twists with hunger.
his thumb brushes your bottom lip again, slow this time. Possessive. Tender.
“Look at me baby girl,” he murmurs.
and when you do, your eyes hazy, heavy with afterglow, he leans in until his forehead rests against yours.
“Still wanna beat up your dad?”
his voice is low. Rough. Almost amused.
But there’s truth underneath it.
You know what this means.
you stare are him with a dazed expression before letting out a breath “just a little now” you muse under your breath
he lets out a short laugh, low and rough, but it's more of a growl than a sound of amusement.
the sight of you with that glassy-eyed expression, still breathless and wrecked in his arms…
god damn it, he could do anything you asked.
his hand slides up your spine, wrapping around the nape of your neck, and he pulls you in for a rough, possessive kiss.
when he finally pulls back, teeth grazing your bottom lip, he murmurs
“Olddear daddy gave us a chance didn’t he?”
you say nothing, just like your bottom lip.
tasting the copper from the blood.
from running. to the rough kisses.
he lets out a low sound at that, a mix of a growl and a moan, as you swipe your tongue over your bottom lip.
he wants to kiss you again, to push you back against that wall, to claim your mouth until neither of you can breathe, but he reigns it in.
you need to get back to the damn room.
so he kisses your forehead instead.
rough, possessive, and then...
the way you're looking at him, soft, dazed, still wrapped around him like you’ll fall apart if he lets go, it hits him right in the chest.
he’s not good with words. Never has been.
but he knows how to show you .
so he leans in slow, his lips brushing yours once, then again, soft this time.
reverent. Like you’re something fragile and his all at once.
“…C’mere sweet girl,” he murmurs against your mouth, voice rough with something close to awe.
“Let me get you off this damn floor.”
his arms tighten around you, one hand under your thighs, the other cradling your back, and in one smooth motion, he lifts you up like it's nothing.
like carrying your weight is the most natural thing in the world.
