THAT IS HALLOWEEN | DAY 13: Costumes ➛ Horror movie villains iconic costumes:
Freddy Kruger | A Nightmare on Elm Street 3: Dream Warriors (1987) dir. Chuck Russell
Michael Myers | Halloween (1978) dir. John Carpenter
Art the Clown | Terrifier 2 (2022) dir. Damien Leone
Ghostface | Scream (1996) dir. Wes Craven
Sam | Trick 'r Treat (2007) dir. Michael Dougherty
Cenobites | Hellraiser (1987) dir. Clive Barker
Jason Voorhees | Friday the 13th Part VI: Jason Lives (1986) dir. Tom McLoughlin
Pennywise | It (2017) dir. Andrés Muschietti
Okay but do you understand the TREASURE TROVE of reading a fic you enjoy and then looking at the author's page and discovering they have written multiple just like it?! That is the ultimate score!
summary: you're known for your kindness and sunshine personality, but they make it impossible for joel to have you for himself. and one thing you know about joel miller, is he isn't a patient man.
warnings: 18+ (minors dni), DDDE 🕊, age gap, dark!joel, naive!reader, virgin!reader, dubcon, toxic relationships, corruption kink, humiliation kink, dacryphilia, stalking and kidnapping themes, oral (m. receiving), fingering, power imbalance, lowkey breeding and praise kink, use of multiple pet names, what am i even doing atp ijbol
word count: 4,354 words
side note: this request made me go against my morals. yes, this blog has morals. no matter what filth is going on, consent is sexy my dear fellow citizens, don't forget it! also please forgive my first ever lousy attempt at a dark!character IJBOL
If It Feels Good, Then It Can't Be Bad
In a world ravaged by death, violence and hopelessness, you came like a ray of sun into Joel's life: a bath of sunlight to shine upon his otherwise dark life; to cast light to fight the shadows ever-present on his eyes.
The first time you said his name, even if it was just to repeat it after he introduced himself, Joel knew he was done for.
Your sweet disposition and voice dripping in honey. The soft bat of your eyelashes, and the fact you weren't aware of it, making him squirm whenever you looked in his direction with those doe eyes and best girl smile.
Joel thinks you're a force of nature, yet soft, like the wind: you'd brush past things, just enough to be noticed, but the right amount to knock someone off their feet if you wanted. Still, you seemed to wield this power with benevolence, true to your kind character.
You'd sometimes come over by his house, with a tray of fresh baked cookies or homemade meal, to repay for favors that had started to sound like excuses to be close to him and his musky scent. The way you moved at ease around, like you'd carved a space in those four walls, his home, so easily fitting into his life, akin to falling dominoes. It was also the way you trusted him, staying so close to him in a house blocks away from Jackson's populated busy streets; you could scream for help and no one would hear you. That was you: too kindhearted and innocent, always seeing the best of people.
Maybe that's why you didn't catch the dark when he looks in your way. You don't see him standing outside your house, in that empty dark alley, gaze trained to your window facing the street. After weeks, he'd come to know you only sleep with a big worn t-shirt and your underwear. Joel imagined you wearing his own, the pattern of the flannels decorating your skin. Once, while you were on patrol, he snuck into your house and took the used panties laying in the bin, later pistoning his cock to the scent of you, nose buried in the fabric.
He was obssesed with you: with your scent on the mornings (floral), your hair that fell as waves (he prefered when you used ponytails, definitely not imagining a makeshift one he would do to you), with the inviting peak of your cleavage during the summer, or in your sweet innocence that wafted through the air in an intoxicating yet alluring thick coat of cinammon, smelling as the cookies you're always making. Joel wanted to have you. To taste you. To make you his. He wanted all: your shaky breathing in winter, skin devoid of scars and hurt, your sweet smiles and naive nature.
So he persisted until you spent more time at his house than your own, until Ellie started seeing a mother in you despite your young age, until you gave him a soft kiss to his lips, and he lost himself to the fire, the flames burning until he managed to have you under him, squirming as he pumped his thick calloused fingers in and out, doing circles and then curling them, your pretty pussy gushing out liquids he'd obscenely lick afterwards. Good girl, praising. One day, I'm gon' give you the real thing. Then, Joel would remove damp strands from your face and press his soft and broader frame against your own, curves matching his edges, fitting in like pieces of a puzzle. He'd hold you and whisper I got ya', promising to protect you and never let you go, and while it made your chest flutter, it too felt a threat. Like when he'd bruise your arm for holding too tight, be it someone who talked or saw you longer than he liked. You said he was hurting you, but Joel chuckled, replying: "How can love hurt?"
It wasn't something you could stop, Joel would learn: everyone orbits around the sun, captivated by the light. You had all Jackson wrapped around your finger, him included.
You lived to love, giving and receiving that warmth you so easily carried despite the cruel and harsh word just outside the gates. Everyone wondered how broody older Miller got with young sweet you. It made no sense, but Joel made sure to rub it on their judging faces, parading you like a prize, by obliging Tommy to be your only patrol partner, since he didn't trust anyone else around you; he hated loosing sight of you. He too would suck on your skin, despite your cries of pain, so the whole town could see you were his: that he owned you and your tender fragile heart.
People didn't get that Joel's love was like a heavy blanket: warm, but suffocating.
And they too didn't get that meant Joel needed you like oxygen to breath. No, instead they went about their day making sure to bask in your warmth, relishing in your light while he was pushed to the shadows. All of Jackson was hellbent on making sure you spent time with everyone but him, whether it be helping with tasks that weren't yours because you couldn't say no, or just any excuse to spend time with you since that's how much everyone liked you.
And Joel Miller is not a patient man. He could only take so much after losing what he's lost.
So, today, when he shows up at your door, unannouced as you help take care of some neighbour's kid while their mother is out on patrol, his deep brown eyes carry a shade of dark you can't quite place.
"Joel?"
He doesn't greet you, instead, forcing his lips on yours, his tongue shoving its way inside your mouth.
"J-Joel!" you manage to squeak after he pulls out, "what are you doing? There are kids in the room!"
But he's too entraced by your swollen lips, rapid breaths and erratic heart. Your pupils are blown wide, and Joel just happens to love your big round pure eyes that stare back at him in disbelief.
"Don't care" he replies, voice gruff. Of course. "Came to remind ya' 'bout me"
You smile sweetly. "Why, Joel? How can someone forget about you?"
Your sugary tone and good heart; he can't get mad at you. But his blood boils in a feeling he knows all too well, creeping its way up his throat in a bitter taste that makes him clench his fists until they turn white. You're blissfully unaware, just as the kid that plays in your lap. His breath hitches and blood rushes to his cock.
(You. Full as he spurts his seed inside of you, dripping from your spent cunt. Big round belly carrying his child. Maybe that way, all prying eyes will learn. He'd have you all for himself, move you into his house, and you'd be too busy with your own baby to waste time with the rest of the town)
"Maybe if ya' weren't so goddamn busy with all of fucken Jackson you'd know what 'am talkin' 'bout"
Your face falls at his bitter tone. "Joel, I'm sorry-"
But he doesn't let you finish. He never does. Instead, he speaks until words wound your heart and then he'd say I'm sorry, I'm sorry until his voice drowned in your chest, where he'll hid his face. You forgave him every time.
(Knew he got mean when he was nervous, like a bad dog. That he'd bite, because he'd been too long bearing teeth to know how to be soft―but you let him try)
"Come today to my place" he says today instead.
What?
"What?" you repeat out loud.
The kid in your lap giggles, toothless grin in display, completely oblivious to the situation unraveling in front of them, the atmosphere charged.
"Later" he's turning his back, boots echoing on the floor as he reaches for the exit. "Don't forget it"
And then the door slams. You look down to the kid, who gives you a puzzled look.
"I know" you reply, stroking their head. They close their eyes, content, but all you can think of is Joel. "I know"
But the truth is you don't.
The last thing you remember is sitting on Joel's house. Ellie was with Dina, and the quietness of the house gave you a sense of peace, even if it ran deeper than other times. A single candle flickered in the table he had set, and you joked you didn't know he was capable of good things.
"Oh, sweetheart" he laughed, "I'm capable of lots of things"
He served you food he cooked, and when you questioned the odd gesture, he told you there was always a first, but his words carried an underlying tension you couldn't shake. You ate in silence, and then he gave you a cup of wine. Drink, voice a low rumble. Your body felt warm, and after a few cups, dizzy.
"Joel?" you asked, dropping the cutlery on the floor. The sound jolted you awake, but your body didn't respond.
"I think ya' need sum rest, baby" his steps drawing closer, but his frame so far away.
You think he placed you in your bed, the blankets over you.
But you're under. Drowning.
"Mornin', sweetheart" a voice draws out. You raise from the bed, a sharp pang hitting you. "Take it easy"
"W-what happened?"
"Nothin', y/n" him saying your name always brought you comfort; put you at ease. "But we've plenty of time for that. No funny bussiness from fuckin' ass Jackson"
You raise an eyebrow at that. Then, you look around, and it takes you a while to understand what's actually happening.
This isn't Joel's house. Your eyes dart to the bed, fast and panicked. This aren't your bed covers either. Or worse, neither his.
"Where are we?" your voice comes out smaller than you intended. You look at him, body trembling. "Joel?"
He doesn't answer, instead, walking in silence towards the open window.
"You cold?" he closes it, and the suffocating feeling of being trapped augments. "Your body's shakin', baby. Why don't you put the covers on again-"
"Don't touch me!" you scream, and you hate the way his face falls. But then the glimmer you love on his eyes is absent, replaced with dullness. Then, something akin to a burning rage replaces it, yet he's quick to mask it.
"No need to shout, baby" and he sits on the bed, despite on your insistence to withdraw from his presence, "no one's gonna hear ya"
You just then realize you're in the middle of nowhere, only trees being seen behind the window he's closed. How could this be the same man who tenderly kissed you before leaving you at your doorstep?
"I-I don't know what's happening" your voice wavers and you hate it, "but let me go"
"So you can go back to fuckin' ignorin' me?" Joel barks. You jump out of the bed, naked feet against cold floor. The temperature hits your bare legs. Bare legs?! You were wearing jeans. Had he-
"Joel" you seethe his name.
He chuckles, but its devoid of joy. Of any emotion, actually.
"I ain't touch ya" he knows you so well, guessing the fear in your eyes. "Not yet"
Your voice is thick and hoarse with emotion. "W-what is that supposed to mean?"
"You think I would'a sit waitin' 'till ya' had the nerve to fuckin' look at me?" he gets closer, and you start to cower and tremble in fear.
"W-what?" you shake. "Please, Joel, just tell me what's happening! I don't get it-"
You walk backwards until your back presses against the wall. He chuckles, licking his lips like a hungry wolf; Joel's got you cornered.
"What's there to not understand? Jackson's taken too much of your time. I'm gonna just take back what's rightfully mine" you start to piece the pieces together, and your stomach drops with uncertainty. You feel lightheaded and at unease. "Cuz you can't say no, can you, baby?" Joel laughs darkly, like he's making a fool out of you. "Hope you don't say no to me now"
You remain quiet, your shaky breaths and uneven sobs the only sounds in the room. What is there even to say? That you can't help what's in your nature? That you'd deny helping others? That it's okay he does this in the name of love?
"Ya' gonna play hard to get?" his boots rumble menacing as his steps draw him closer, "like you ain't beggin' for 'tis"
Joel Miller wasn't a patient man. He yanks you by your hair, and you scream at the action, his breath gracing your face.
"If ya' want things to go smooth, ya'nswer when I talk to ya', get it?" Joel roars through gritted teeth. Droplets of saliva sprinkle over your skin, and you squirm.
"O-okay" you manage to nod, whimpering.
"Aw" he coos, and it's scary how fast Joel's switched. "See? It ain't hard to be a good girl fo'me. Just like y'are in town" Joel chuckles. "Jackson's girl"
The nickname feels like a slap to your face. Tears begin to fall from your eyes before you can stop them.
"No need to cry, baby. I'm gon' treat ya' like I always do: right" Joel grabs you by your chin roughly, digits coloring your skin purple. "That if ya' cooperate"
Joel never imagined to hurt you, but as you pathetically wail and fat droplets run through your face, eyelashes adorned like snowflakes by tears, he thinks you're the prettiest thing in the world, his throbbing dick approving.
"But you know what?" his grip on your hair tightens, "don't stop. Ya' got yourself a pretty face when you cry"
"J-Joel" you beg one more time, but he can see your pupils blown wide and the faint whiff of your arousal in the air.
"Fuck, baby. You into 'tis?" you whimper. "S'fuckin' sweet but ya' can't help wettin' yourself f'r me now"
He forces you on your knees, and you shake in fear, hiding a barely concealed cry.
"That's right" Joel looks down at you, darkly chuckling. "Love how ya' look like 'tis"
You gulp as you're face to face with his hard dick, something you've always wanted to try, but now you're body feels like it's not your own and your mind's numb. You can't think straight as his free hand pulls his worn jeans down, his big hand pushing you against his clothed crotch, and you feel the pulsating dick against your cheek.
"Feel that, sunshine? That's how bad I missed ya" Joel's hand now removes his underwear, and then looks at you, carressing your cheek gently. "Will ya' be a good girl and show me ya' missed me too?"
But before you can provide an answer he shoves his half hard cock in your mouth. You try not to gag, having never done it before. In many ways, Joel had been your first: the first fingers to touch your pussy, not even your own. When you straddled his clothed dick, and he kept encouraging you with low grunts and soft moans that were like music to your ears. Or when your tiny hand wrapped around his girth, and you helped him come like he did without a helping hand. My pretty little helper, he had whispered, gotta show you how to use y'r mouth.
"Wrap y'r lips 'round me, baby" you do, but it's hard when he's so big. "Don't worry, I know you'll try y'r best. Now lick down there"
Your tongue travels through a sloppy and slick trail to his underside.
"Yes. God. Run y'r lips along it" Joel's breath hitches. "Fuckin' expert, baby. Keep goin"
You do. Saliva pools in your mouth, and you want to pull out, but he must sense it, so he grabs your hair rougher and keeps you in place.
"Not yet, baby. What's the rush?" he grabs your hand and places it in the base of his cock, stroking your shaking palm. "Ain't no one gonna interrupt us here no more"
You try licking a bit, but it isn't working anymore.
"Here, let me help ya"
Joel's voice comes out strained, but then his pushing your head with his hand by your hair, making it bob at the same time your hand does a move, all in one fluid rush. He's so big and hard, his girth slips from between your lips. Drool runs down your chin as you try to take him all, especially when Joel keeps pulling you closer, thrusting his hips at your messy minstrations, and when you almost cough his cock out, moans sounding more like gasps for air, he forces more inches in, his tip hitting the back of your throat.
He'd be lying if he said he wasn't turned on by the way you sounded in the verge of suffocation, salty drops mixing with your spit and his precum, lips swollen and doe eyes wide. Chocked sobs and sucking sounds bounce off the walls, aside from his grunting and moaning.
"Needed to have ya', baby" he throws his head back, grip on your hair loosening. "Makin' me feel so good"
It gets to a point where his encouraging leaves a warm feeling in your chest, and your panties dampen as you clasp your thighs together, searching for some friction.
Maybe it's the fact that it's your first, or maybe it's him. Joel, with his closed eyes and open mouth, lips parted as needy groans and ragged moans fall from them. He's so fucking lonely and touched starved, you can't help but feel bad for neglecting him to the point he's taken you hostage in the middle of nowhere just to have you.
A particular thrust of his hips into your face makes his full cock hit the deep of your throat. Your nails dig at the skin of his thick thighs, the suffocating feeling augmenting, but all he does is moan at the burning sensation. And then it comes: the hot white ropes that make your suffocation now feel like drowning, his seed in your throat and dribbling down your chin with silver spurts of saliva. Your eyes fight to stay open, and Joel sees that.
"Sleeping, baby?" he pulls out, and you cough for air, falling to the floor with your hands. "Won't let me thank ya' for 'tis favor?"
Again without giving you room to reply, he's carrying your body like it's nothing, dropping you on the bed as you try to push him off, but his weight pins you down against the soft mattress. Joel chuckles as you squirm, pleadingly. His eyes darken with a primal all-consuming need to have you, fingers digging in your soft thighs as he pulls them apart roughly, your dripping clothed cunt exposed to him. His head dives in, giving your underwear a proud lick. Just like others time, a moan you can't stop falls from your lips, far too learned and reflexive.
"So sweet, sunshine" he whuspers lovingly, "and s'wet. I think you're ready"
Your mouth conjures something akin to a no, but your treacherous folds moisten up, and your cheeks heat up with rage and shame. He rubs his calloused pad on your clothed pussy, hard hand over your stomach.
"Will finally show ya' what'a good dick feels like"
He starts by pushing his fingers in your pussy, smearing the coat of wet slick over his fingers and your walls.
"That's enough" he decides. No sweet caring touches, no preparation and definetely no kisses because you've been a bad girl: ignoring him to favor others, like you don't know he'd die for you. Kill for you. He's devoted to your religion, holding onto you like a prayer, his faith in you the only thing keeping him sane. But maybe he isn't, Joel thinks as he aligns his cock to your puffy entrance and you whimper quietly, because this is your first and instead of taking his time he's shoving himself inside like an animal, too far gone by the possesiveness that chokes him and the pent-up frustration of weeks without your touch and pussy. Now, he'll finally make you his.
Joel throws his head back with a soft groan as his tip enters your soft folds.
"S' gonna hurt" he warns, voiced reduced to a low rumble that tickles your ear. "But you've hurt me too, baby. Hurt me when ya' preferred Jackson over me. 'S alright, we even now" he pushes in forcefully, and you choke out a sob. "I hope 'tis never happens again and you've learned y'r lesson"
His thick and big length goes through your tight walls. A scream dies in your throat, mind blank at the painful burning sensation. You can't even breath, feeling full as he slides in and you try to adjust. You're at his mercy, under him. Joel groans when droplets of blood fall to the sheets, in a more frustrating tune when he can't fully bury himself in since you're too tight, but soon enough Joel picks up a pace, starting his strokes.
"S' tight but so pliant fore'me. Maybe next time, since you such'a dick hungry whore" you whimper at his words, "slurpin' my cock first like a starved slut and now takin' it like a fucken cocksleeve"
He keeps sliding in and out, and there's a point when the burn doesn't feel like a fire but like a warm layer. He holds himself by your hips, his digits bruising the skin as he goes deeper with each thrust. The older man pounds into you, delighted at your responsive mouth, long gone the cries, now replaced by insistent muffled moans.
Your tits bounce under your shirt. Well, his. If he wanted to fuck you, he wanted you to be his. That you smelled like him. Made it clear by your marks and your clothes. You belonged to him, and when he sees your jiggling breasts under the pattern of his flannel, just like he had imagined all those times watching from outside your house, he buries himself to the hilt.
"Sorry, sunshine. Had'a make sure I was your first" but you know damn well he isn't, by the wicked gleam. "Cause you're only mine, you heard that? Gonna ruin this pussy for anyone of those fuckers in town, thinkin' they have a chance with 'cha. What have you told 'em, baby? They thinking they can come and take what's mine. Well, I'll gladly show 'em"
You gasp, pussy gushing inviting as his pelvis slaps against your ass. Joel's mouth falls open as he moans carelessly; in the middle of the forest, being heard is the least of his concerns. Your tight untouched walls wrapping around his aching cock drives him crazy, knowing he was the one taking you.
"Gon' fuck 'tis sweet untainted little cunt 'til it drips with ma' seed"
Your hands instinctively go for his shoulders, and you find yourself lost when his gaze meets yours, eyes completely gone and loosen curls sticking to his damp forehead.
"That's ma' girl" your stomach tightens at his low voice. "Hope you enjoy da' ride, sunshine"
Fuck. Your body trembles, silky walls fluttering and clenching at the new sensation, muscles tense then relaxed, your breathing hitching as a low, guttural sound erupts from Joel's throat, deep inside him as the rumble shakes his panting chest.
"Breath, baby" he removes some strands for your hair.
His cock grinds against your most sensitive spots, and when he feels your pussy clasp around his throbbing length, he knows you're done, desire coursing through his veins as his fingers find your swollen clit. He rubs the sensitive nub in tight, quick circles, his other hand slidibg to cup the back of your neck, his fingers tangling in your damp hair as he pulls in for a deep, hungry kiss, swallowing your weak wails.
"Breath" Joel repeats. "I got'cha"
It's like an explosion, your release. Your pussy clenches and spasms around his cock, walls fluttering wildly as you come undone. You now quiver and tremble under him, body overwhelmed, but he doesn't stop to admire his work of art, far too enthralled in the task of coming himself.
"M gonna cum inside of 'cha" warning not question, "you'll be a good girl and take it all, yeah?"
Unexpectedly, Joel captures your lips in a desperate kiss, swallowing your scream as he fuckes you through your climax, tethering close to overestimulations. He grips your hair again, now by the back of your neck, keeping you in place as he devours your mouth, tongue delving deep to taste and feel your sweet flavor.
His orgams hits him like a train, balls tightening and cock throbbing inside your fluttering heat. He slams forward one last time, burying himself to the hilt inside your trembling cunt, finding his own release.
"That's my good girl" Joel purrs, voice a low, satisfied rumble. "Takin' my cum so well, like your pussy was made for it"
He rocks his hips gently, semi-hard cock against your sensitive walls, mixing his hot seed deeper into you. Joel loves, he's so sure of it. How else is he supoposed to describe this all-consuming feeling that forbids him from thinking straight, all reasoning be damned?
"You're mine now, sweetheart" he murmurs, breath hot against your ear. "Forever"
Joel can feel his cock soften inside, but makes no effort to pull out. Instead, he rolls your bodies to the side of the bed, that dips under your combined weight. He spoons you from behind, dick still nestled warmly inside your dripping cum-filled cunt. He drapes his strong arm around your waist, holding you close, alluding the sentiment of never wanting to let you go.
"S'much for takin' you all the way to the fucken woods" your eyes drop, dangerously close to falling. He chuckles at the sight, maybe at the though his cock had tired you this much. "Maybe I'll do it more often if those Jackson fuckers ain't learnt their place"
