His Favourite Holiday (Part 2)
Word count: 8k
Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader
Summary: It's been a hard year, but with his handy Halloween power surge Joel seeks out revenge. And another good fuck with his favourite girl.
A/N: Ok, sneaking this in just before Halloween ends, still counts! This is a little intense so I apologise in advance. Please heed the warnings, not everything is tagged to avoid spoilers but if general non-con themes bother you then please skip on by.
Huge, massive thanks to the ever wonderful @baronessvonglitter for beta-ing a half finished story and talking me off the cliff of abandoning it altogether. I love you so much, you are the best!
Warnings: Non Con, death, haunting, homophobia, talks of religion and desecrating religious memorabilia.
Part 1
Joel had carried the memory of last Halloween with him for the whole year. He’d fucked you again and again that night until you were a quivering mess underneath him, eventually passing out. Even that didn’t stop him. He lost count of the number of times he made you come.
But as midnight approached he’d felt himself getting weaker and weaker until he couldn’t touch you at all, returning once more to his miserable non-substantial state. How he’d mourned the loss of touch, that he could no longer feel you or taste you. But he’d stayed nearby, watching you sleep, a beautiful wreck in the aftermath of his ardour. Tear stained cheeks, puffy nipples and swollen pussy, leaky with your slick after hours of abuse. A fucking masterpiece.
Probably a good thing he was forced to stop before he broke you irreparably.
When you’d finally awoken he watched as you examined your body in the mirror, searching for any indication that your assault had been real. You found none. A slight ache in your pussy the only sign that anything untoward had happened. But you knew you hadn’t imagined it.
He’d felt bad as he watched you struggle in the aftermath. Trying to make sense of what had happened, pushing away your friends and withdrawing from the community. He’d watched as you’d invited the town pastor into your home to perform an exorcism. Joel had followed him round your little house laughing and rolling his eyes at him. And after he’d gone, Joel watched you shower and jerked off, just like he had since your first day in Jackson.
And when your ‘friend’ Alex had turned up on your doorstep, worried about you and trying to get you to tell her what was wrong, you’d tearfully confessed that you’d been attacked. She’d been full of hell and righteous fury, begging you to tell her who had done it. And when you had told her your attacker had been invisible, that you thought it was a ghost, she’d laughed at you. Then got angry when you didn’t recant your comment. Told you that it must have been a dream. That you were pathetic and only looking for attention. Or you were crazy.
You’d been even sadder after that day.
And when Alex had told everyone about your conversation, people started avoiding you, whispering when they saw you in the street. You got moved from your assignment working in the Tipsy Bison to working in the greenhouses because you made the patrons uncomfortable. You spent your days cold and lonely, pruning and watering the plants in the farthest greenhouses, never any volunteers to join you.
But you’d lived through worse. You’d been by yourself for years before Jackson. At least here you had a roof over your head, regular meals and a hot shower. And your spectral attacker had taken great care not to harm you. Traumatic as it was, it was a better deal than many got.
So you existed. You kept to yourself. You didn’t make trouble. No angry outbursts over the way you were being treated. No demanding to be believed. Just carried on diligently fulfilling your tasks. And so people started to forget. But Joel didn’t. He’d catalogued the worst offenders and dreamt of the day he could make them pay for the way they had treated you.
4 of the townsfolk were marked and they would feel his wrath. As long as this Halloween played out the same as the last and he got his strength back. The closer the time came the more worried he got that it had been a fluke. That it had been a one time occurrence, an anomaly.
The only thing that could quiet his mind was you. He’d lie on your bed and watch you sleep. Reach out and dream of touching your skin, running his hands all over your body, feeling your silken cunt wrapped around his dick. He wasn’t sure how he’d survive the disappointment if he didn’t get to feel you again. If he didn’t get to make those assholes pay for their mistreatment of you.
He was so tense as he watched you on the eve of Halloween, working yourself into the ground in order to try and forget the anniversary looming over you. You lugged heavy bags of fertilisers and gravel all around the greenhouses, climbed up and down trees to pick apples, lugged sacks of potatoes and carrots to the food hall, dug the cold, hardened earth to make troughs for planting and got down on hands and knees to pull at weeds.
You worked for 12 hours straight, only stopping briefly to eat the sandwich you’d brought with you. By the time you got home you were sweaty, filthy and exhausted. You hurriedly showered, grabbed a handful of nuts and dried fruit in lieu of a proper meal and collapsed into bed, slipping into an uneasy sleep almost immediately.
Joel felt so guilty. But he knew that guilt would not be enough to hold him back if the chance to have you arose again. He needed it. Needed you.
So he waited, eyes glued to the clock by your bed. Laid by your side listening to your steady breathing and occasional soft snores, hope bubbling in his chest.
It felt like an eternity waiting for the clock to strike midnight, his cock already hard with anticipation. And when it finally he did he turned back to you. He tried to temper his expectations. He didn’t feel any different. But last year it had taken some time for it to kick in. He shouldn’t be disappointed if it didn’t work right away.
Tentatively he reached out his hand and groaned as it made contact with your bicep. He almost came just from that. He couldn’t help but moan as he eased you onto your back.
He’d be gentle, try not to wake you. God knows you needed your sleep after the day you’d had. But he had to have you.
He ever so gently pulled down the sleep shorts and panties you had on and pushed your thighs apart, keeping his ears trained for any changes to your breathing, occasionally checking your face for any sign you were breaking out of your slumber.
He positioned himself between your legs, strong arms wrapping under your thighs and holding them open for him before diving straight in and licking a long, gentle stripe up your slit.
He was so careful as he explored you. He’d been so feral last time, this time he would savour it. Commit every fold to memory with his tongue and lips.
He kissed at your labia and sucked one into his mouth, smirking to himself as the first traces of your arousal made themselves evident, beading at your entrance. He licked them up and moved over to the other side, once again sucking your lips.
He kissed his way up to your clit and licked all around it with a pointed tongue, never actually making contact with the little bundle of nerves. He kept going until a little moan made its way past your lips. Lifting his eyes to your face without removing his tongue from you he confirmed you were still asleep as your hips bucked slightly, your body seeking out the friction it needed unconsciously.
He chuckled into your pussy and kissed his way back down to your hole, running his tongue around your entrance a few times before slipping further down, licking and kissing his way to your pretty little rosebud.
He took a moment to admire it before leaning in and giving the softest little kiss to it, groaning at feeling the puckered bud under his lips. He gave it a suck and a lick, prodding ever so slightly at it with his tongue but thinking better of penetrating you here lest the unfamiliar feeling jolt you awake. He couldn’t be selfish right now.
He gave you another broad lick from asshole to clit, finally giving in and laving your little button with his tongue. You groaned so beautifully in your sleep that he almost came in his pants for the second time tonight. God you’d be the death of him. If he wasn’t already dead that was.
He experimented against your bud, different patterns, strokes and pressures, making note of which ones made you gasp and wriggle, committing to memory the best way to use your body against you.
He could tell you were getting close from your bodies reactions to him. He pulled back and sure enough, your little hole was winking at him, clenching desperately at thin air and steadily dripping your arousal onto your thighs and your sheets.
His smugness was almost palpable. He did that to you. He hoped it was filtering into your dreams. That at some level you registered how good he was making you feel.
He admired you for another moment, all spread open for him to feast on. He rubbed his thumbs delicately against your inner thighs, leaning in to press kisses against them before settling back on his haunches, exhaling with relief at getting to have you like this again. Picture perfect, your pretty little cunt calling out for his attention, sleep shirt rucked up over your belly, the underside of one of your breasts just peeking out, your face relaxed in sleep. If only he could take a picture and carry it with him.
Instead he settled himself back between your legs and pushed his tongue into you, not caring about the amount of slick that smeared itself into his beard. With any luck he’d carry your scent with him the rest of the day.
He kept the pace slow but pushed deep every time, thrusting his tongue into you as far as it could go. He played with you, twisting and undulating his tongue, drowning in bliss as your walls started to bear down on the thick, wet muscle and your slick dripped into his mouth. Fuck, he loved the way you taste, muted as it was. Just like last year he wished he could do this with a living tongue. That he could fully taste your sweetness.
But beggars can’t be choosers and Joel would be eternally grateful for any opportunity to touch you like this.
As your hips started to rock against his face he moved his hand to rest on your mound and started to rub little circles into your clit.
You let out a dreamy sigh as your body clenched, coming on his tongue and releasing a wave of arousal that Joel greedily slurped down as your thighs tried to close around his head.
Your body slumped as you came down, still blissfully asleep, a little smile curving your lips. It made something in Joel clench. He wanted to see you this happy always. Last year he’d taken you in such a frenzy, so desperate and lonely, this year he wanted to be better for you. The thought didn’t stop him popping the buttons on his jeans and pulling down the zipper.
He pulled himself out, barely even daring to touch his throbbing cock for fear of coming immediately. A whole year he’d waited for this. He wasn’t coming anywhere but inside you.
He spread your legs once more and lined himself up, wasting no time pushing himself steadily into you.
Your pussy walls gave around him so beautifully, opening up and allowing his intrusion without too much resistance following your orgasm.
Joel kept pushing forward, making sure to bracket his weight on his arms to avoid waking you but he couldn’t stop the groan that leaked from his throat.
“Oh fuck, this fucking perfect pussy,” he moaned as he finally bottomed out.
You were even better than he remembered. Warm, wet, soft and so fucking tight. A velvet vice just for his dick. It felt sublime.
One slow thrust was all he could manage before erupting into you, painting your cunt in his ethereal spend.
He caught himself before slumping onto you. Oh how he wanted to. Wanted to feel your hot body underneath him. But there was time for that. He’d gotten to have his way with you so much earlier than he had last year and that meant there was ample time for more fucking. But Joel had other things to take care of today and he intended to make the most of his window of corporeality.
He slowly pulled out of you, happy to see his ghostly spend leaking out of you. His dick twitched and he couldn’t tear his eyes away for a moment. He gently gathered some on his finger before tracing your lips with it, coating them in him.
The sensation made your tongue dart out to lick at your lips and Joel chuckled as your nose scrunched in your sleep as you noted the taste of him there.
He carefully redressed you, making sure to tuck the covers back over you before kissing you on the forehead and making his way out onto the dark streets of Jackson.
He moved with purpose, heading towards the centre of town in the hopes of crossing the first 2 names from his vengeance hit list.
He’d hated Ben and Jared when he was alive. A pair of arrogant assholes who were far too fond of the sound of their own voices. While out on patrol Joel had been subjected to their homophobia, misogyny and casual racism, a trifecta of ignorance and bigotry.
He’d complained about it to the council. He knew others had as well and while they’d received many warnings, they’d somehow always managed to avoid any real consequences. He suspected that it was because they’d been in Jackson almost from the start, grown up here. And because their fathers had been friends with several council members. And Joel suspected a few of those council members shared their views. Had probably had a hand in passing those views onto them in the first place.
Shortly after Alex had first started telling her tales the two of them had cornered you. Joel had watched as they crowded you against the wall in the back room of the Tipsy Bison, caging you in.
“If you need cock honey you should have just asked, we’da been happy to help you out. No need to go making shit up.”
“Yeah, our nice warm cocks be better than any fucking ghost cock anyhow.”
You’d struggled to get past them, screaming at them to leave you alone but they just laughed and pushed you back against the wall.
“No need to get all antsy now, we’re just offering.”
“May as well take us up on it, no one else is queuing up to fuck the town crazy.”
“Fuck off,” you spat at them, still trying to push your way past them.
“Your ghost cock really that good that you can turn us down honey?”
“Could just have you anyway. Ain’t no one would believe you now if you told them we attacked you.”
Getting desperate you’d stamped on Jared’s foot as hard as you could, making him jump back and threw your elbow into his ribs as you ducked sideways and darted towards the door.
“Fucking bitch,” Ben snarled at you as you wrenched the door open and ran straight into a broad, plaid covered chest.
“What the fuck is goin’ on on here?” Tommy boomed, taking in your scared, tear stained face as you pushed past him and ran out of the building, not even waiting to give an explanation.
Tommy turned to watch you go, not even attempting to stop you. He turned back to Jared and Ben’s livid faces, them already talking over each other about how you’d attacked them and were clearly unstable.
Joel meanwhile was stood by his brother yelling to no avail about what fucking scumbags they were, angry and shaking and so fucking ashamed of himself for not being strong enough to protect you.
Tommy waited until Ben and Jared finally shut their mouths.
“Now see, that little girl ain’t raised a hand to no-one since she came here and now you’re expecting me to believe that she attacked you for no reason?”
“That’s what fucking happened.”
“Sure it is. See you might have some folks round here fooled but I know exactly what kinda men you are. And I don’t believe a damn word outta your mouths.”
“Fuck you, Tommy, you wait til I tell Rick and the other council members -,”
“Oh yeah, you’re gona tell em? Tell em that the two of you got bested by a woman half your size?”
Tommy smirked as he watched that land. The realisation dawning on their faces what that would do their reputations. To their egos.
“Yeah, I thought not. So if I see, or hear about either o’you goin’ anywhere near her again, I sure as shit will be tellin’ the whole town exactly what I saw here. And I ain’t above exaggerating. Wonder if they’ll let you stay on patrols when they know how useless you are in hand to hand combat. Can’t expect you to take armed raiders if you can’t even take on an unarmed woman.”
“Fuck you Tommy.”
“Fuck you right back. Stay away from her. We clear?”
He enjoyed watching their faces turning purple with rage as Ben spits out a seething, “crystal,” before turning and walking away.
Joel had been so worked up and furious as he sped back to your house to check you were ok. He lay by your side as you curled up on your bed and cried. Watched the next day as you pulled out your trusty flick knife and tucked it safely in your pocket. You’d never left the house without it since.
And now, months later he could finally make them pay.
First port of call, the infirmary. He did feel a little bad as he rummaged around in the cupboard that housed the towns drug supply. That someone might need the drugs he was planning on taking. But then he remembered the sight of you pinned against the wall, the sounds of your sobbing and everything else dropped away.
He quickly found what he was looking for. Sedatives. Strong ones. He balled up the sachets of powder in his hand, not even sparing a thought about what it must look like to a casual onlooker. Little white packets floating through the air. It was the middle of the night and the town was quiet, everyone getting an early night before the Halloween festivities begin. It’s what he was banking on. Exacting this punishment will take time and he’d rather not be interrupted.
He made his way to the Tipsy Bison. He knew they’d be there, since Ben had taken over your shifts when you’d been kicked to the greenhouses. Of course he used the position to his advantage, often staging lock in’s with his little crew of losers. Misappropriating the towns resources.
Sure enough when Joel arrived the doors were locked and Ben and Jared were propping up the bar, a bottle of whiskey open on the counter between them.
“This towns gone to the fucking dogs I’m telling you. Tommy fucking Miller walking round like he owns the place. Arrogant fuck, he ain’t a real man, can’t even control his own woman. I heard him asking her permission to come here tonight. Fucking pussy.”
“I fucking hate Maria, she’s the reason they let that fucking homo stay, he should have been turned away at the gates, but no, Queen Maria lets that disgusting fag walk straight in. Stupid cunt should learn her place. Get her ass back in the kitchen where she belongs.”
Joel seethed as he listened to them. He hated the pair of them. He almost abandoned his plans to beat them bloody. But he kept hold of himself. As satisfying as it would be to feel their bones crunch beneath his fists he knew just how to hit them where it really hurt.
Joel casually walked behind the bar, pushing a couple of glasses off the shelf at the far end as he went. Sure enough the noise drew their attention long enough for Joel to dump his contraband straight into their drinks, letting the empty sachets fall into the bin as Ben cursed at the mess of broken glass.
Soon enough the men were back in their seats, glasses empty as they slumped across the bar. Now the fun could begin. Joel pulled the polaroid camera that Seth kept tucked behind the bar, used sparingly to capture memories of the special occasions in the town. Every milestone a victory in this fucked up world. Tonight it would be put to a different use.
With an unhinged grin, he set to work.
///
A few hours later, Joel stood at the bar, going through the pile of Polaroid’s he’d taken, the two men still completely unconscious behind him. They’d sleep for a good few hours more. Hopefully long enough for them to be discovered in the pose Joel had carefully arranged them in. The last in a long line. If not, the photos in his hands would be damning enough. Gathering them all up he turned and left the building, distributing the photos all over town.
It was still the early hours of the morning and he was right on schedule. So far his Halloween had been very productive. Joel already felt lighter, the tight knot in his chest eased by finally getting to act.
The next person on his hitlist would be less labour intensive than the two creeps he’d left behind in the bar. Anne Ingram viewed herself as a dedicated follower of Christ. Joel viewed her as a religious crackpot. She went to every mass the town pastor held, even pestered him to add more to the roster despite the already low attendance. It being hard to cling to the idea of an all-powerful, loving God when you’d watched family and friends being torn apart by fungus ridden corpses. She would spit scripture at anyone she deemed to be a Godless heathen, harassing and tormenting people who had been to hell and back. A particular low point coming when she spat in the face of a newly arrived woman, calling her a whore for being pregnant out of wedlock, regardless of whether the woman had any say in the conception of the child. She’d refused to apologise even after she learned the truth.
So Joel had not been surprised when, after hearing about your confession to Alex she’d followed you around town, crying that you were a vessel for evil, that you were surely an agent of the devil, lying with demons and sure to bring ruin upon the town. She was relentless in her abuse. And when she realised she would get no rise from you as you refused to acknowledge her on your walk through town, she’d gone to the council to demand they throw you out of Jackson. That if they let you stay, you’d drag them all to hell with you. Joel saw the toll it took on you. The lost look in your eyes as you searched the faces of those you passed, looking for any support and finding none.
So Joel made his way into her house, after a brief stop at the town butcher. He looked around at the room cluttered with religious artefacts. This would maybe be a bigger job than he anticipated. He worked meticulously. Every crucifix turned upside down. Every religious figurine broken, pages ripped from bibles and strewn around the room. The same in every room. Once he was sure he’d caught everything he picked up the jar of pigs blood he’d brought with him. Scrawling his message on every mirror, ‘Do not judge, or you too will be judged’. It had been his mother’s favourite bible verse. He did not think she would approve of how he was using it right now.
He finished with a flourish, a huge 666 painted in blood right on her front door and the remaining blood smeared over her sleeping form. He hoped he’d make it back in time to hear her screams as she took it all in.
He stepped out once more into the night. It was still an hour or so until sunrise but he could see the first signs of the town beginning to stir, lights on in windows and smoke curling out of chimneys.
He walked down the street. One more name to cross off his list. His route took him past your house. How he ached to go inside and bury himself in your tight little pussy, keep you in bed all day, stuffed full of him. But he couldn’t let himself be distracted, he’d waited too long, plotted too hard to waste the opportunity.
But maybe he could make you breakfast. Something warm to wake up to. You were going to need your strength today. He hesitated. He had time. Unlike the others he wanted Alex fully awake for her punishment. Wanted her to really feel it. So he turned and headed back into your house busying himself in the kitchen.
When he was done he carried the food and mug of hot coffee up to your room, gently clearing a space on your bedside table.
He took a minute to admire you, just beginning to stir, the smell of coffee and hot, buttery toast pulling you from your slumber. You were so beautiful like this. Calm, rested. He gently caressed your face and leant in to kiss your forehead before regretfully pulling himself away.
The sight of you, the smell and feel of you stiffened his resolve. Time to make that bitch pay.
When he made it to Alex’s house she had music blaring, dancing round the kitchen as she made breakfast, not a care in the world as she sang along, using her wooden spoon as a mock microphone. The sight of it sickened Joel.
That she got to be this free and happy when she had condemned you to a life of loneliness and ridicule. Well that would end today. He was going to make sure of it.
He wasn’t going to rush. He was going to mess with her first. Play with his food before he devoured her whole.
He spent the next 10 mins moving things the moment her back was turned. He started subtle. She lifted a plate out of the cupboard and left it on the counter, when she turned around it was 3 feet away. She picked out a spice jar and he switched it for another. She put her spoon down, suddenly it was nowhere to be seen.
She was getting frustrated. And he could see the beginnings of fear ever so slightly latching around her.
“Fuckin’ losin’ it,” she mumbled to herself, her bouncy breakfast routine suddenly seeming a lot more sedate.
He cooled it for a minute. Let her get comfortable again, sitting at the table with her breakfast, shaking her head and chuckling to herself. And just as she was writing off the strange occurrences as being her imagination, he came up behind her blew a cold, clammy steam of air right at the crook of her neck.
She jolted as her skin pebbled at the sudden icy blast, jerking around to see where the cold breeze was coming from. Finding nothing, she settled uneasily back in her chair only for another cold steam to skate over her shivering form.
Joel enjoyed watching her, nervousness oozing from every pore. Her eyes darted all round the room trying to find the source of the draft, but as she set off in search of it, it seemed to follow her, coming at her from different directions until a small fearful whimper slipped from her lips. And then he stopped again. Watched as her frigid body loosened once more. But not all the way. No. Now she was unable to fully relax.
After a few more minutes of her standing aimlessly in the middle of the room, she took a deep, shaky breath and moved to the table to start clearing her half eaten breakfast, appetite suddenly MIA.
Joel smirked as he looked round the small living area connected to the kitchen. A little bookshelf holding a few raggedy books and trinkets. It couldn’t be more perfect if he planned it. He knocked one of the books off the shelf with a firm swipe. It landed with a resounding thwack on the hardwood floor.
It made Alex yelp and jump so far back she whacked her elbow on the refrigerator. After a moment of staring at the book on the floor like it was a venomous snake she slowly rounded the little island, rubbing at her elbow. She stopped and looked at it for a moment her chest heaving, a startled gasp escaping her as she saw which particular book was lying on the floor. The Woman In Black. The scariest book she had ever dared to read.
She hesitantly picked it up, holding it away from her body like it might be contaminated and placed it back on the shelf before hurrying over to the door to her bedroom. She needed to get dressed and out of this house.
Just as she reached the threshold another resounding thwack echoed behind her. She didn’t need to look to know that same book would be lying in the middle of the floor. Abandoning thoughts of getting changed out of her sleepwear, she threw herself towards the back door only for the dining table to be thrown across her path, blocking the exit.
With a scream she hurled herself in the other direction towards the front door, desperate to get away from whatever it was that was taunting her. Her hand closed around the handle, she yanked the door inwards, almost tasting the freedom only for a tight grip to close around her wrist, throwing her backwards where she fell, crashing through a side table into a heap on the floor as the door slammed shut.
She sobbed as she watched the key turn, tauntingly slowly in the lock, trapping her in the house. She curled up in a ball as one by one, the blinds were lowered at each window until she was left crying on the floor in semi-darkness with something that clearly meant her harm.
She didn’t know what to do. After all, how do you fight what you can’t see? He could see it in her face. The uncertainty, the fear; wrapping around her, thick and cloying. Joel savoured every moment. Every tear spilled, every pained whimper, every desperate plea. Still not enough to even the balance between you and her. But it was a start. And he was going to make this a lesson she never forgot.
Stalking over to her, completely feral now with the need to destroy her, he yanked her up by her hair and slammed her against the wall before letting his hands wander over her body. She had a nice pair of tits he’d give her that. Not as good as yours but they filled his hands as he groped them viciously making her cry out in pain. Her nipples pebbled under his abuse.
“NO, STOP!” she screamed out, the realisation hitting of where this was going. She started to writhe and struggle but she was no match for him. He backhanded her hard across the face and pushed her back against the wall before grabbing handfuls of her baggy sleep shirt and tearing it in two.
She wailed now, begging, “please stop, please. Don’t hurt me, please don’t hurt me.”
He threw her forward so her front connected with the back of the sofa, pushing her over it and keeping her bent over it with a firm hand between her shoulder blades while the other ripped down her panties and sleep shorts.
He rubbed his fingers up her slit as she tried to wrestle her way free but to no avail. She was completely dry. Her cunt as barren and unappealing as her personality. Joel couldn’t even get hard. He rubbed at her clit, wanting to get her to get wet. To feel the shame of her arousal for the rest of her life. And soon enough he got his wish, her cunt starting to glisten with her arousal as moans slipped out between sobs.
He shoved 2 fingers in. She wasn’t anywhere near ready to take him and the sudden intrusion made her cry out. He pistoned into her, quickly adding a 3rd finger, crooking them, searching for the spot that would be her undoing. And her reaction when he found it was immediate. Body jerking in his hold as a choked groan escaped her throat.
He kept at it until she came, chanting out, “no, no, no, please no.”
He released her and she slid to the floor. He wasn’t done with her yet, but his cock was steadfastly refusing to stiffen. It wasn’t like he wanted to fuck her, he knew she would never compare to you. But the plan had been to ruin her. And he couldn’t do that with a limp dick. Growling in frustration that she was somehow managing to ruin this by being too awful to even fuck, he stepped back and ran his hand over his face.
He could finger fuck her again. Maybe even try and fist her.
And then he saw it. A crooked smile adorning his face as he made his way over to the little basket at the side of the room, a few empty beer bottles waiting to be returned to the Tipsy Bison for refilling.
She cried harder at the clanking of the bottles as he hefted one into his hand, before turning back to her. She tried to scramble away and Joel laughed as he saw the trail of piss she left behind in her terror.
He grabbed her ankle and pulled her back to him, smearing urine up her torso as he manhandled her through the puddle. He flipped her onto her back and yanked up her hips, wasting no time positioning the bottle at her entrance. The bloodcurdling scream she let out as he pushed the cold, unforgiving glass into her pussy was music to his ears.
///
You woke up with a grumbling stomach and the most delicious smells in your nostrils. The scent of hot coffee and warm butter making your mouth water. You stretched out your limbs with an exhaled “mmmmhhhhhm.”
You’d had the most amazing dream. You hadn’t had a wet dream since you were a teenager and none of them had been as amazing as the one last night. By the wetness between your legs you think you probably came in real life as well as in your dream.
Your blood froze in your veins as you caught sight of the plate of food and mug of coffee on your bedside table. Someone was in your house. You bolted out of bed in a second, hand wrapping around the baseball bat you stored next to your bed and cautiously making your way out of your bedroom. You checked every room, bat held high, ready to swing.
But there was nothing. No one was here. The doors were still locked and the kitchen had even been tided. Whoever had been here had taken the time to clean up after themselves. And with bile rising in the back of your throat you remembered last Halloween. Looks like the exorcism hadn’t worked after all. After almost a full year of peace you had been so hopeful. But who else would be able to get in and out through doors and windows locked from the inside.
You wasted no time. You threw on some clothes and bolted out the door. Maybe if you stayed around people the rest of the day the ghost would leave you alone. It – he, had waited until you were alone last year. Maybe if you could ride out the rest of the day you’d get another year of peace.
You ran out of your house and jogged up to the greenhouses, asking to work in the main greenhouse today and being waved away by the head gardener with an impatient, ”whatever,” as she turned back to her conversation.
Throughout the day information filtered through about the scandal du jour. About Ben and Jared being discovered this morning by Seth, naked as the day they were born, mid blow job in the middle of the Tipsy Bison. Of course they’d insisted that they’d been set up, they weren’t gay, that they’d been unconscious, only roused by Seth’s startled yell. They must have been drugged, someone was out to get them. But then angry business owners started showing up with Polaroids of their amorous activities and they’d been carted off to answer to the council for performing lewd acts in public and distributing pornography. Fucking degenerates. You heard more than one person expressing that they should be expelled from Jackson. Imagine if a child had found those photos! It was unthinkable. One thing was for certain. Their reputations and standing in the community was in tatters.
And then more stories came to light, about Anne Ingram, running screaming from her house, covered in blood, wailing that devil had come for her, for the whole town. They’d had to sedate her and take her to the infirmary as she would not stop raving. Stories about what they found in her house were beyond disturbing. General consensus was it was a Halloween prank turned ugly. But more than a few thought she’d staged it herself due to the council not listening to her rants about Halloween being a pagan holiday sure to draw demons into the town.
It was around lunchtime when the next story broke. Alex had been attacked, was in the infirmary in pretty bad shape. You felt sick to your stomach. Sure, you and Alex had fallen out but you would never wish that on her. And while on the surface the strange goings on were different enough to seem unconnected, something kept gnawing at you. All the weird things happening today. Just like last year, only ramped up to 1000. And deep down, you knew there was a connection. Alex, Anne, Ben, Jared. All the people who had hurt you most since you’d foolishly decided to trust the wrong person.
Was this all happening because of you?
Not long after news of Alex’s attack broke, Tommy arrived at the greenhouse.
“Ok everyone, town is goin’ on lockdown, everyone head straight home and stay there til a council representative lets you know otherwise.”
Your blood froze in your veins. No, no, no.
People were pumping Tommy for information, why was the town being put on lockdown? Would the Halloween party be going ahead? How was Anne? What punishment were Jared and Ben going to get? How was Alex?
“ENOUGH!” Tommy hollered and everyone fell silent, more than a few looking a little affronted at being shouted at, as if they hadn’t just been bombarding Tommy with questions like a literal baying mob.
“What you need to know now is that the town is in lockdown, everyone needs to go straight home, no mixing of households, we need to know where we can find everyone. Council representatives will be round to talk to everyone in due course. Anyone caught disobeyin’ this directive will be up on garbage duty for a month. Everyone clear?”
People grumbled but began dispersing as instructed. But you were frozen in place. Terrified of the prospect of going home until Tommy’s steely glare got your feet moving.
All the way home you pondered. Garbage duty for a month seemed like a better deal than going home right now. But something about the way Tommy looked at you made you hesitant to disobey him. While most people knew about your beef with Alex and Anne, Tommy was the only one who knew what had happened with Ben and Jared. And you couldn’t afford to make him suspicious of you. As bad as last year had been, the thought of being thrown out of Jackson was way worse. All that you’d endured and survived to get here. You couldn’t go back to that life. You were already unpopular in town. If they connected the strange happenings back to you, you were sure you’d be out on your ear.
You trudged up the steps to your house, lip quivering as you opened the door. You were half expecting to be grabbed and fucked the second you walked in the door. But instead you were greeted with a steaming bowl of soup and a plate of thick sliced bread sitting on your dining table waiting for you.
The house was eerily silent. You couldn’t stop the tears from falling. You were so afraid. So when you felt an insistent pressure at the small of your back guiding you towards the table, you didn’t fight it. You knew deep down it was not a fight you could win. And you did not want to encourage the ghost’s anger and violent tendencies to be turned on you. You could only hope that whatever, or whoever this entity was, that it held some affection for you. It certainly seemed that way. He’d been rough with you last year but not enough to actually hurt you. He’d targeted people who had hurt you, there was no doubt in your mind now that your ghost was the culprit behind everything. And now he was caring for you. Making sure you ate.
You sat at the table without a fuss and began to eat your soup, though it was the last thing you wanted to do, your stomach already full with a lead weight from the stress of the day. But as you ate you caught sight of the mug of coffee and plate of toast you’d left untouched on your bedside table earlier and you winced.
“I’m sorry I didn’t eat my breakfast,” you whispered, hoping to placate him and buy yourself some kindness.
You felt a soft swipe on your cheek, a tear drop wiped from your skin. The plate with the bread inched closer to you and you picked up on the meaning. Eat now, make it up to me. So you did. Sat in silence, quivering with fear, you ate until your plate and bowl were clean.
And then you felt it, a hand in yours. Not warm and fleshy, but a hand all the same. Like air made solid. It slowly pulled you from your seat and tugged you insistently towards your bedroom. You held in the sob that was brewing in your chest. You could do this. One day. You hoped. One day of torment for 364 days of peace. If this was the price you had to pay to stay in Jackson then so be it.
You let yourself be guided into your bedroom. Let your ghost push the cardigan off your shoulders, allowing it to drop from your body into a heap on the floor. Let him cradle your face and pull you close.
“Please don’t hurt me,” you begged in a whisper to the ghoul holding you so softly in his arms. You felt a kiss against you cheek, soft and reverent. “Please don’t hurt anyone else.” It’s whimpered as you break down in full tears. Your head was cradled to an invisible chest, another soft kiss pressed to the crown of your head. You were held and rocked until your tears subsided. It’d been so long since you’d been touched you could almost convince yourself it felt good. Could almost forget that you didn’t want this.
///
Joel rocked you gently in his arms. His sweet girl, pleading so prettily for people who didn’t deserve her kindness. He felt the violence and anger dissipate from his being as you let him hold you close. No fighting now. You were exactly, where you were meant to be, safe in his protective embrace. He knew you’d come around. And now he got to have you to himself for the rest of the day. He was going to show you pleasure the likes you’d never felt.
He undressed you slowly. And you were so pliant for him. Moving your body however he directed until you were standing fully naked before him. He was hard in a heartbeat. He itched to touch you, to grope and squeeze and spank, taste and fuck. He wanted to rail you so hard your pussy would never forget the shape of him. But the sound of your little voice, begging, ‘please don’t hurt me,’ was etched into his brain. And he silently vowed there and then that he wouldn’t. Not ever. He would never hurt his perfect angel.
He took great care in his movements, slow, gentle, steady so as not to spook you. He laid you down on the bed, easing your legs apart and crawling between them. He used all the knowledge he’d gleaned that morning to gently build you up to an earth shattering climax, practiced tongue lapping at your core until you screamed with pleasure.
And before you could even come back to yourself he was there, pushing himself inside of you, feeling your still pulsing pussy wrap around him so perfectly, warm and wet and made just for him. He rocked into you while you recovered from your orgasm, drinking up your moans and gasps, the way you sang just for him. His chest swelled with pride for how good he could make you feel.
“That’s it baby, keep singin’ for me just like that. Let old Joel make you feel good.”
You moaned long and loud as his rocking morphed into thrusting, the drag of his large cock against the sensitive walls of your pussy pushing you towards another devastating high. You focused on it. Clung to it like an island in the storm, desperately trying to forget that you were being fucked against your will, by a supernatural entity that you knew now you’d never escape. You wanted to drown in the pleasure he was offering and forget everything but how good he made your body feel.
You arched beneath him as the intensity of his thrusts picked up, never violent, but unrelenting and resolute, every punch forward burying him to the hilt as your soaked pussy squelched and leaked. You felt him shift, felt your hips pulled upwards, forcing your shoulders back into the mattress, felt strong hands on your hips pulling your body forward to meet every unforgiving thrust, the head of a cock caressing that spot inside that made you see stars.
You lay there and took it, fists balling in the sheets as every nerve ending in your pussy was assaulted by his thick cock. Joel was in heaven.
“Fuckin’ hell baby, you were made to take this cock, fuckin’ look at that pussy stretched so good around me, perfect every time.”
You choked on your moan as he began circling your clit with his thumb, your pussy throbbing and clenching around him as your orgasm began to crest.
“That’s it angel, come for me now! Let me see how good I make you feel.”
Almost as if you could hear his command your body seized around him and with a series of primal grunts and final powerful thrusts Joel emptied himself into your cunt.
He slumped on top of you, the impact forcing the air from your lungs in a shocked gush. He planted kisses all over your face before shoving his tongue into your panting mouth, plundering the hot wet cavern that he was aching to feel around his cock.
Joel kissed you passionately for a few minutes, unperturbed by your lack of reciprocation, before finally pulling off you and sliding onto the bed, giving you a few minutes reprieve. A few minutes was all he could give you. He had to fit a year’s worth of fucking into just one day. He would take advantage of the sweet, docile body on offer to him for as long as he could.
You felt him, hands roving over your body, as you panted and recovered from the most thorough fucking you’d ever had. You felt them settle on your breasts, kneading and groping and tweaking at your pebbled nips. You felt the twitch of him against your thigh and pushed back your tears. You looked at the clock. Only 1pm. 11 hours to go. You closed your eyes and spread your legs once more.
///
Npt for some people who might enjoy: @lilac-boo @milla-frenchy @aurorawritestoescape @toxicanonymity @cosmickid-inmotion @strang3lov3 @easybbgrl @inept-the-magnificent @magpiepills @old-logan-and-old-joels-slut @axshadows @justajoelsreader @guelyury @rosebuds-and-moonlight @koshkaj-blog @shivispunk @ivoryandflame @tammythr @deviscave @guelyury @lamartell @thejoywillburnoutthepain @a-loneywolf @mushgloomz @megangovier @nala2811 @catnip987
