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Ellie clutches onto Joel with a grip tight enough to break any lesser man’s momentum. Every thrust has the girl clinging on impossibly more, her knees slipping from where they're locked around Joel's back with every strong pounding of his hips.
The bed’s headrest bangs against the wall in tandem with Ellie's breathless moans and the lewd sound of their skin meeting every time. Joel's own groans are muffled in the crook of Ellie's neck where his teeth graze over her sensitive skin, and he's able to indulge in Ellie's wanton noises right against his ear.
“Joel,” Ellie whimpers, her body seizing up under Joel's strong thrusts, as if she's trying to bind them together. “daddy, daddy, please…”
She's not begging for mercy, or for him to stop. Even as her body struggles to accommodate him, and her nails continue to dig into the flesh of his skin deep enough to leave trails of red in their wake.
Ellie's just insatiable, always desperate to take as much as she can possibly receive.
Joel pulls back just enough to hook his hands under her thighs and hoist her tiny body into a more suitable position. The loud noises grow even more deafening in the small space as he jackhammers into Ellie with a fervor bordering on manic.
She's crying, moaning that crude title with the sweetest most pitiful voice pleading for even more.
Joel's eyes roam over her bouncing body, over the sweat dripping down her glistening skin, over the way her small breasts barely move from her flat chest. Over the way her stomach distends outward with each thrust he injects into her, how his dick disappears into her wet hole.
Every time without fail, Joel can see an outline of his cock forming through her skin. The sight of it even more proof of just how small Ellie really is, and how reliant she is on Joel. Complete undeniable proof of how he holds her very life and sanity in his grasp right at this moment.
She's perfect. The tears running down her freckled face, the way her mouth keeps babbling out nonsense and strings of curses. How her puffy lips stretch around Joel's girth and pulses almost violently whenever he dare threatens to pull out of her.
“Daddy..!” Ellie's arms stay locked around Joel's neck, her warmth seeping off her.
Joel shifts forward, his body pressing Ellie into the mattress as he propped himself up on his elbows with a groan, his muscles taut from the effort. Joel's hips snap against hers more brutally, his own breathing that of a dog's.
With every powerful thrust, he starts to lose himself more and more in Ellie.
Sarah's watch slips loose from his arm.
Joel's body tensed the second he caught sight of his watch falling to the floor. Ellie's lost in a state of oblivious bliss, her eyes shut and her insides still trying to suck Joel in.
Joel's eyes aren't on her anymore. They're on the watch that he keeps as a solemn reminder of everything he's lost: of a life buried in the past of a better world, of his daughter.
Sarah.
His sweet little Sarah. The very same little thing delivered to him in a bundle of blankets and warmth, a creature that was shoved into his arms at the door of the hospital. A tiny, wriggling helpless infant that reached out for him when her mother had turned on her heels and driven off without another word or glance at the child she'd given Joel.
The girl he had the blessing and privilege of watching grow. Who he changed, dressed, bathed, and fed. Who over the days and years grew into a little girl that'd shuffle into his bedroom at the dead of night to snuggle in his arms because she had a nightmare and wanted her daddy, whom she'd trusted. And Joel never refused her, his arms always encircling Sarah like he could envelop that innocent girl from the cruelty of the future itself.
Sarah, who over time started to grow into her own person, into a girl who berated his tastes in movies with a smile, a girl who teased him about his age and his lack of love life. Someone who didn't sneak her way into his bedroom anymore, but still held the same warmth and love for her dad that she always had.
She was barely a teenage girl, and she never strayed from perfection in Joel's eyes.
Sarah was his baby.
He would never do any of this to his baby girl. So how in the world can he justify doing it to Ellie?
…
He's disgusting.
Joel barely realises how his dick throbs at the thought, or how Ellie's moans grew even louder now that he's penetrating her very core with every deliberate, hard thrust.
What's he doing? his gaze falls to her nubile body, to the state she's in.
He's fucking her. Giving her a moment of comfort and undeniable euphoria.
She's a little girl.
She's his little girl.
His little girl, crying and writhing beneath him whilst still screaming for her daddy like she can't get enough, like he could be pummeling into her even more and she'd thank him.
… He's a bad man.
Except, Joel's already accepted that fact a long, long time ago.
What's one more crime in a wasteland of abandoned rules and hierarchy.
How could he possibly falter now when he's providing a sweet little thing like Ellie with the best temporary escape from this wretched life they're always forced to adapt to, to survive in.
Joel's giving her exactly what she's asking for.
How does that make him a bad guy rather than a selfless father.
“Ellie,” Joel's moans grow more rough, his joints starting to ache with the motions. “I got you,” in every way “I got you, baby girl,” Joel's chest presses firmly against hers as he shields her from the world. “daddy’s got you.” it's the only promise he hasn't lied about and will never break.
Ellie isn't Sarah.
Because Joel's affections for Ellie are far more twisted and sick than they ever were for his own flesh and blood.
And even despite the lack of DNA that Ellie and Joel share,
she's still his.