Okay, But A Man Talking You Through Your Orgasm. A Man Who Smiles The Second You Climax And Is All "there

𝕄𝕖𝕖𝕥 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕎𝕣𝕚𝕥𝕖𝕣

➳ Hi, I’m Bambi!

➳ I’m twenty (she/her).

➳ I’ve been writing ever since I was a little girl, and I’ve recently discovered a passion for fanfic writing!

➳ All of the Readers in my fics will be feminine. I apologize, but that is just what I am comfortable writing.

➳ I’m currently working a full time job, so I won’t be online all the time. However, I will be updating this whenever I can :)

➳ Main kinks (in no particular order): Heavy praise, light choking, age gaps, daddy kink, dd/lg dynamics (NOT the ab/dl side of it), grinding, hand kink, sensory deprivation, biting, begging, light bondage, discipline, breeding, light degradation (if it is mixed with praise), being vocal during sex/talking through it, teasing/orgasm denial, detailed aftercare, subspace, somnophilia, light manhandling/displays of strength, size kink, dirty talk

➳ Requests are open!

there’s not a day that goes by where i don’t think about joel miller.

Types of Kisses with Joel

Kisses to distract you while you’re reading your book. It was one you’d never heard of before, but Joel had found it on a supply run and had brought it home for you because he thought you’d like it—a decision he’d come to regret every time your pretty little doe eyes were concentrated on the pages instead of him. Now his lips move across your neck, your jaw, and your shoulder while he coos, “Come on, sweetheart, put the book down for a sec.”

Kisses to your quivering bottom lip before leaving for a long patrol, murmuring reassurances against your mouth. “I know baby, I know…it will only be for a little bit, I’ll see you tonight, okay sweet girl?”

Kisses when you’re injured after escaping a pair of Clickers—in your haste to get away you’d tripped and cut your leg on a sharp rock. “Awwe, darlin’,” Joel had murmured as he kissed your tears away and carried you back home, where he cleaned the wound wrapped it up, sealing it with a sweet kiss on the bandage. 

Kisses to your eyelids when you’re falling asleep in his arms at night.

Kisses to your forehead as he tells you he loves you. 

Kisses in the morning when you’re still his sleepy, tired girl and can hardly kiss him back. 

Kisses to your jawline when he gets back from patrol, cradling the bowl of your skull with his big hand as he tilts your head back to expose your neck. “Missed my pretty girl so much,” he’d sigh, his breath fanning over your neck and making you gasp when his teeth dragged along the sensitive skin beneath your jaw. 

Kisses with Joel.

Oh my good God your writing is absolutely fabulousssss 🤤 The way you write about Joel and his baby girl is sending me into orbit!!! Genuinely I cannot wait to read more of your work 😍 Do you think that you would ever do one where Joel comforts his baby if she got jealous? There’s a few different ways this could go but the idea of him comforting his sweet girl when she’s upset over something like seeing another woman in Jackson hit on him or something makes me think terrible, nsfw thoughts 😆🩷🎀

This was so fun to write, thank you for the ask anon! Hope you enjoy!

Pairing: Joel Miller x Reader

Summary: When you see a woman making a move on Joel and storm out in a flurry of tears, Joel realizes exactly how much he’s been neglecting his baby. He’s determined to make it up to you.

Notes: Smut, oral (f receiving), dom!joel, sub!reader, praise, nicknames (sweetheart, baby, babygirl, little girl, honey, darling, any fanfic-typical nickname Joel has for reader), jealous!reader, oblivious!joel (sorta), semi-public, implied age gap

You were fuming.

It was Tommy’s birthday and Maria had decided to invite the entire town of Jackson to the Tipsy Bison that night to celebrate. The bar was lively with the hum of chatter and small talk, the smell of whiskey and beer curling in the air, paper lanterns hung in a zig-zag pattern across the ceiling.

Normally you would have loved to go out like this. It gave you an excuse to dress up all pretty and do your makeup, maybe even get Joel to abandon his stone-faced stoic facade and go dancing with you after he’d had a couple drinks.

Except for the fact that the night had gotten off to a horrible start.

The past few weeks Joel had been busy. Very busy. Which you didn’t blame him for, of course—he was one of the town’s strongest working men and the people needed him to help with patrol. But recently a worker at the Bison had sprained his ankle and Seth had asked Joel to help cover him while he healed, which meant that now Joel was gone during the day for patrol and several nights during the week while he fixed barstools or whatever it was Seth had him working on.

The nights he actually was home, he usually went straight to bed with you after placing a kiss to your lips and gave a murmured, “Goodnight.” You couldn’t even remember the last time he’d touched you, really touched you.

And you knew that Joel was a good man, that the reason he was so exhausted all the time now was because he was doing work for the community.

It didn’t stop his girl from getting a little needy and missing him.

Tonight you had taken advantage of the outing. You’d made sure to do your makeup immaculately, with your lips glossed and eyes lined to make them look all doe-like and pretty, how Joel liked them. You’d curled your hair and pinned the top part of it back in a half-updo with a white satin bow. You’d even worn a new dress that you’d traded for a couple days before. It was baby pink, hugging your bust and waist before flaring out the smallest bit around your hips. The short hem paired with your white heels showed off your legs very nicely.

You’d thought that maybe if you put enough effort into your appearance tonight, Joel would want to touch you no matter how tired he was.

Unfortunately, so much self-grooming had caused you and Joel to be a little late, which meant rushing out the door and speed-walking over to the Bison so you two weren’t more tardy than you already were, which meant there wasn’t time for Joel to appreciate his princess in her pretty dress.

Now that you guys were here at the bar, he was hardly looking at you. His large hand was still holding yours so you wouldn’t get lost in the crowd, but he hadn’t even said anything about how you looked tonight. Did he even care? It made you want to whine and cry or stamp your little heeled foot against the floor until he paid attention to you.

But you didn’t. You wanted to be his good girl…and you didn’t want to ruin Tommy’s birthday, either, by making a scene.

Joel kept craning his neck around to look for his brother, and when he found Tommy and Maria standing at the bar, he guided you over with him with a hand on the small of your back.

“Joel!” Tommy exclaimed, expression bright as he embraced his brother—overly bright. It was clear he’d already had a few glasses.

Joel slapped Tommy on the back. “Happy Birthday.”

“Happy Birthday, Tommy,” you said softly right as Maria was thanking the both of you for coming.

“What did you get me?” Tommy asked his brother.

Joel grunted as he put his hand back on your waist. “Right to the point, aren’t you?”

“A book? A shirt? A razor? I’ve been needin’ a new one of those, mine broke just yesterday—“

“Boots,” Joel said. “Traded for ‘em last week. They’re back at the house.”

Tommy grinned. “Awe, now you’ve just ruined the surprise.”

Joel rolled his eyes. “Tommy—“

“Oh, that reminds me! There’s somethin’ I need to show you real quick.” Tommy turned to you. “Mind if I borrow him for a few?”

You frowned. “Well—“

Without waiting for a response Tommy dragged Joel away, heading for some unseen destination across the bar. You couldn’t tell where they were going from your position in the crowd. You tried not to wilt.

A moment later Maria handed you a drink. “You look nice,” she commented.

“At least someone noticed,” you grumbled, taking a sip. The alcohol burned your throat.

“Joel giving you trouble?”

You shrugged.

Maria waited for you to elaborate. When you didn’t, she pressed. “I was going to go sit with some friends over there.” She gestured to her right somewhere. “Want to join?”

You sighed, then shook your head. “I don’t think so. Thank you Maria, but I don’t want my mood to infect your guys’.”

“Well…alright. If you’re sure.” And with that, she left you to your own devices.

It had been hours. Or…maybe a half hour. Forty five minutes? You weren’t sure. Enough time for you to have made a home for yourself on one of the barstools with several now-empty liquor glasses in front of you.

And Joel still wasn’t back.

Your toes were starting to go numb in your tight shoes even just sitting there, so you huffed and got to your feet—you only swayed a little. You were determined to find Joel and make him dance with you.

You weaved in and out of the crowd as you searched. Where had Tommy taken Joel? Was it….this way? That way? You couldn’t think very clearly right now. How many glasses had you….?

You finally spotted the back of Joel’s head through the throng of partygoers. Your eyes lit up and you started to move in that direction, ready to tug on Joel’s hand and stand on your tiptoes for a kiss. Why had you even been upset again?

You squirmed between two people to move closer and—

There was a woman beside Joel. She had honey brown hair and keen, wise eyes. She was older than you—much older. Closer to Joel’s age. Her name was Sharon…Shannon…something?

You froze as she laughed at something someone said and put a hand on Joel’s arm.

Your eyes went wide and you didn’t know whether you wanted to scream or start crying. Joel suddenly turned his head and met your gaze.

Your body decided for you. Tears pooled on your lashes and you turned to duck out of the bar before you made even more of a fool of yourself.

The crisp, cool night air greeted you as you escaped the Tipsy Bison’s warmth. You sniffled and kept walking, not even really sure where you were going.

“Darlin’?” Joel’s voice reached you and you heard footsteps from behind.

You sped up.

But Joel was Joel, and so he quickly caught up to you with his long legs. “Baby, what’s wrong?”

“Not now, Joel.”

“Hey.” He grabbed you and turned you around, his grip gentle but firm. “Sweetheart, what happened?”

“Get offa me,” you protested, trying to push away.

“What’re you…” He paused. “Are you drunk?”

“No,” you whined. You broke out of his grip and kept walking, turning around the corner of the Bison and walking around the back of the building. “Leave me alone.”

“Baby.”

At his tone you stopped. Even though you were embarrassed and upset and didn’t want to see his face, a small part of you still wanted to be obedient.

He came around your front and lifted your chin so you were looking up at him. His stern gaze melted away and his eyes softened. “Honey, what’s wrong?”

Your bottom lip quivered. “What’s wrong?” You sniffled and took a step back. His hand fell away.

“What’s wrong is that you don’t pay attention to me anymore. You work all day and all night and it feels like you hardly have time for me now. I even got all dressed up tonight for you, wore a new dress and everything, a-and you didn’t say anything, didn’t even look—“

You blinked and more tears ran down your face. “And now I jus’ saw Sharon or Shannon or whoever that woman was flirting with you, and you didn’t do anything—”

You cut off as your face crumpled. You looked down, shivering from the cold.

“I know she’s older and…and probably smarter, and she—”

“Whoa, whoa, sweetheart.” Joel tenderly gripped your upper arms, ducking his head to try and get you to meet your gaze. “What…what are you thinkin’? You think she could ever compare to my babygirl?”

You opened your mouth to respond but he prattled on before you had the chance. “The moment she touched me I pulled away. I don’t know if you didn’t see or what, but…” He shook his head. “Baby, I only have eyes for you. You know that.”

He wiped your tears with his thumbs. “I’m sorry I haven’t been around more often. It’s just until Seth’s friend heals up that I’ll be gone. I should be out of bar duty by next week.”

“And what about tonight?” you whined.

At that, Joel smiled. “You really think I didn’t notice how pretty you looked, sweet girl? I was trying not to get a hard on in the middle of Tommy’s party.”

You almost smiled. Almost. But you were still mad about Shannon, and you still felt needy and lonely and you were pretty sure you were way more than tipsy and you still kind of felt like punching Joel in his handsome face a little bit.

He leaned down to press a kiss to your forehead. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “So sorry that I made my baby feel alone….and needy…and neglected…” He punctuated each word with a kiss to a different part of your face—your cheek, your nose, your lips.

Now that you were alone, Joel’s eyes roved over your body shamelessly. “Look at you….” he cooed. “So beautiful.” His hands fell to your waist. “And this pretty new dress.” His eyes looked lower, down to your feet, and he grinned. “Your shoes match your bow. You said you dressed up just for me?”

You sniffed and nodded. “M’still a little mad at you.”

“I know, pretty girl.” He kissed your jaw. “Why don’t you let me make it up to you?”

That sobered you up real quick. “Wh….here?”

“Why not?” Joel pressed your back to the wall of the building. “No one’s around.”

“But someone could—”

“Shhh.” He kissed lower this time, at the skin beneath your jaw. “Here’s what’s going to happen.” He pressed a kiss lower. “I’m going to make my little girl feel good right here and now so she doesn’t have to wait another minute.” Another kiss. “After that I’m gonna carry her back to our bed….” Another. “And there I’m gonna make love to her until she gets absolutely sick of it.”

You squirmed as his beard dragged along your skin the lower and lower he kissed, lips now at your collarbone. “I-I don’t know if I’d ever get sick of it….”

He nipped at your skin and you gasped. “Then you had better have enough energy to be up all night, sweetheart.”

Joel kissed down the center of your clavicle, the middle of your breasts, down your tummy over your dress….soon he was kneeling before you, looking up to meet your gaze with those dark brown eyes of his.

“Joel—” you said, still a bit uncertain.

“Lean back against the wall, babygirl.”

You hesitated, but obeyed. Any complaints or protests you had against the situation dissolved as soon as Joel lifted one of your legs and pressed a kiss to the inside of your ankle.

His lips traveled upward. He kissed along your calf….the inside of your knee…your thigh….soon he pressed the skirt of your dress up to your waist.

He paused.

Then:

“Oh, sweetheart.” It was nearly a groan. His eyes flicked up to yours. “No panties?”

You smiled shyly. The truth was you’d forgotten almost entirely about that—it had been a quick last minute decision to forego wearing anything beneath your dress, but seeing his eyes dark with lust now….you definitely did not regret it.

“I’m a little glad I didn’t have time to look you over properly before coming here,” he murmured, lips skimming your hip bone. “If I knew you weren’t wearin’ anything under this we would have never left the house.”

You could feel his breath on your inner thigh now as he moved his head and you whimpered. “Joel.”

“Shhh, no whining honey, ‘less it’s about how good it feels.” He placed a kiss right above the patch of skin above your bud. “Just let that pretty head of yours empty—I’ll take care of you.”

Whatever you were about to say in response left your head as Joel hiked your leg over his shoulder and started to lick at your clit.

You gasped and one of your hands threaded through his salt and pepper curls to steady yourself. His tongue flicked against your swollen, needy button teasingly. Your lower belly simmered with the heat of crackling coals.

Joel’s large hand found purchase on your hip and he squeezed in response to each noise that escaped you. He was soon embracing you with his full mouth, tongue licking between your folds, at your bud, into you. It was as if he was everywhere, helping himself to your taste and enjoying every bit of it.

“Oh,” you sighed, pushing your hips into his mouth involuntarily and his head bobbed in time with his motions.

Each flick, each twist of his tongue had you nearly writhing, and you were pretty sure it was only Joel’s hand on your hip keeping you from collapsing.

“Joel, I—it’s—oh please, I can’t—” You were babbling mindlessly, head empty, unsure of what you were even really saying.

Joel just chuckled against you, the vibrations running through your core making you gasp.

“Such a pretty pussy,” he murmured as he sucked and licked at your wetness. “‘S like you were made for me—just keep rockin’ your hips—oh, good girl.”

He lapped at you as you let out a high-pitched whine. You were there, right there, with his nose nudging at your clit and his warm wet tongue pushing into you and he was shaking his head and oh—

You bit your knuckle to muffle your moan as you came, your folds drenched, your lower belly warm, your legs shaking, your clit tingling.

“That’s it, that’s it.” Joel kept murmuring praises as you came down from your high, hips squirming from oversensitivity.

He placed soft and slow kisses on your right hip before rising and gripping your waist. Your legs nearly buckled.

Joel chuckled and caught you as you stumbled a bit, sweeping you up in his arms, the ease in which he lifted you making your belly swoop.

He pressed his lips to your hairline in an achingly sweet kiss. “How’s my girl feeling now?”

You let out a happy hum and rested your head on his shoulder. “Better.”

“Good.” You could hear the smile in his voice as he started to walk, carrying you like you were a princess. You supposed that you were, in a sort of way. You were his.

“Don’t go fallin’ asleep yet, babygirl.”

You hadn’t even realized that you’d been drifting off until he had said something. It wasn’t your fault. The gentle sway of him walking with you had rocked you to sleep…

“Sorry.” You yawned.

“I’m the one who’s sorry, honey,” he said. He held you closer. “And you gotta stay awake with me. I got a lot more I wanna do to apologize to my princess.”

The low voice he used made your heart flutter.

You were in for a very long night.

oh idk maybe you should explain it to me in a soft voice while i suck on ur thumb

Dare I say Joel Miller

Holding your hand and telling you how well you’re taking it while every inch is inside you

Shhh honey, it’s alright. I love that groggy voice you make when you’re sleepy, you’ve been moaning in it for the last few minutes. Hey calm down, just relax for me, ok baby? I’m going slow, just how you like it. Just stay calm and take it, then we can go right back to sleep, ok?

i don't want to be an older man's sex toy or secret. i want to be an older man's darling, to be loved and treasured, i want to be doted on and treated like a princess, and in return i'll treat him like a king ♡︎

Tainted Prayers: Part 2

Pairing: Joel Miller x Reader Asylum AU

← PART ONE | PART THREE →

Notes: Religious themes, cultists, topics may be sensitive to readers

You were led down a long hallway with beige water-damaged walls. The tiles were freezing beneath your feet, each step bringing your toes closer and closer to becoming icicles. You shivered, pulling the sweatshirt closer around your neck to try and block out the cold.

There were two people leading you—one a man with close-cropped carrot hair and the other a woman with dark skin and hazelnut irises. They sort of looked like the eyes of the nice man from before, the one who’d collected you from the bus. You didn’t know where he’d gone. Soon after he’d led you inside he’d been summoned away for some sort of other task that needed attending to.

You clenched your hands to stop them from shaking. You’d heard of this place, of course. Everyone had. Silver Lake Asylum was supposed to be a home for the insane, the wild, those that weren’t human enough to function on their own. Those who had been kissed by the devil instead of blessed by God.

You didn’t think you were insane, but…well, crazy people never thought they were crazy, right? You’d been told you were. Aunt Bea had said so, and after that night….

The orange-haired man opened a metal door to your right and you winced at the high-pitched squeal the hinges let out.

You froze.

“Let’s go,” the man said, prodding you forward.

You nearly stumbled, shaking your head. “No, no I can’t, I—”

He pushed you forward again, this time into the room. Showers lined the walls with water-stained silver handholds; rust clung to some of the drains embedded in the ceramic tile floors.

Your vision started to blur with tears as you shook your head more violently. “Please don’t—I—”

Memories assaulted you, ones of you huddled and shivering beneath a frozen stream of water with purple lips, the smell of mold on porcelain making you gag…

You were suddenly shaken. Shocked out of your daze, you looked up to find the woman gripping your shoulders, her brow creased. When your gaze met hers her face relaxed.

“She’s fine,” she said to the man without looking at you. His nose was wrinkled as if disgusted by your tears.

“Let’s just…get her a bucket and washcloth or something instead,” he muttered. He seemed almost uncomfortable by your display. His boots were swift as he exited the room.

Twenty minutes later you were as clean as you could be without a proper shower, dressed in white scrubs with a brown-orange stain on the hem of one of the sleeves. Your toes were no longer frozen—you’d been given white socks with sticky texturing on the bottom to keep you from slipping.

Your room was bland. White walls, white floor, white sheets. There was a single chair in the corner of the room facing the bed, also white. There was no window and there were bars covering the light fixture—most likely to prevent any patients from breaking the glass bulb and using the jagged shards as a weapon, either against others or themselves.

Despite being warmer than before, you hadn’t stopped shivering. Was this supposed to be your new life? Never feeling the sunlight on your skin again? Never seeing the sky? Tremors wracked your body and you felt another wave of panic, followed by a smaller flare of self-disgust. You were pathetic. How many times had you broken down today? How many times had tears clouded your vision, had fear fuzzed your mind? How many times—

There was a quiet beep and your door opened. An unfamiliar man walked through (but then again, wasn’t everyone unfamiliar these days?).

He had strawberry blond hair that receded from a round, wrinkled forehead—wrinkles far too deep for someone middle-aged. His chin was pointed, his nose even more so.

The skin crinkled around his blue eyes as he gave you a friendly smile. “Well hello there,” he said, shutting the door behind him. The lock clicked.

You didn’t respond and your eyes followed him as he sat down in the white chair across from you. He was dressed in a simple button down and slacks.

He studied you for a moment before extending a hand. “I’m Bishop David, the head of this institution.”

You didn’t shake his hand.

Bishop David nodded as he pulled it back and gave an understanding smile. “I hope you’ve settled in alright, though I heard you gave Joseph and Maria some trouble at the showers.”

At this, you squirmed uncomfortably. “I don’t like water,” you whispered.

“Ah.” He leaned back in his chair. “Well, we all have things that irk us, don’t we?”

You didn’t respond.

“Quiet, aren’t you?” He cocked his head and his eyes took on a strange look, as if he were trying to look through you. He clasped his hands. “You were brought here for a very serious reason, you know. Your aunt—she was a good woman.”

You looked down.

“And a good woman’s judgment should be trusted, shouldn’t it?” He leaned forward a bit.

He spoke your name.

You looked up.

“You’re unclean,” he said softly. “You’ve been touched by the devil, been shunned by God. Your aunt was wise to hand you over. You shouldn’t be ungrateful for your circumstances.”

You fidgeted with the hem of your shirt.

“We’re going to help you,” he said intently. “But to do that, you need to admit to yourself first that you are tainted. Your soul is evil. You must understand that.”

You didn’t say anything. Tears welled on your lashes.

Bishop David let out a small exhale and stood. “I expected denial, but none as strong as this. The devil is working hard on you.” He gave you a small smile. “Don’t worry. We’re going to help.”

And with that, he turned and walked out of the room.

Days passed. The asylum staff didn’t give you a calendar, nor did you ask for one. What was the point? You weren’t getting out of here anytime soon. You didn’t deserve to.

The routine was the same each day. In the morning you’d wake to a plate of cheese and bread set on your bedside table for breakfast. Lunch was beef jerky and crackers, and dinner was soup. At night the lights would shut off, leaving you in pitch blackness.

Nights were always the hardest. You couldn’t sleep, not when you could practically feel the darkness pressing in on you from all sides, like it was strangling you. You’d wrap yourself in your blanket and curl into a ball to try and hide, but how could you escape something that was everywhere all at once?

You could practically feel yourself wasting away; not just your body, but your mind as well. You had no one to talk to, nothing to do. The only time you saw the outside of your cell was when you were led to the restroom by an armed guard.

Today you were sat criss-cross on your thin mattress, picking at the crust of your bread, getting ready for another day of staring at the wall with empty eyes when you heard a small beep.

Your door opened a moment later and in stepped him.

He didn’t look any different than he did on the day he’d collected you from the bus. Square face, tired eyes, Roman nose. His beard was flecked with gray, same as his brown hair along the temples. He was dressed the same as he was before—black button down, black slacks, black shoes. The only thing that wasn’t dark was the white of his clerical collar.

“Mornin’,” he said in his deep, rumbling bass of a voice.

“Good morning,” you said softly. You watched as his dark silhouette moved to take a seat in the white chair, a spill of ink against paper.

He was holding a thick leather bound book in his hand. “You, uh, get settled in alright?”

You shrugged.

“Bishop David told me he came to see you. Said you were…on the quieter side.”

“I didn’t have anything to say to him.”

The man’s thick brow furrowed and he seemed to study you for a moment before he shook his head to dismiss whatever thoughts were swirling in his mind. “Well, I’m Father Miller. I’m going to be helping you in your reformation.”

You gave him your name as well, but it was more for the sake of formality. Did this man really think he could help you? You were bad—you were unclean.

“What’s that?” You asked, nodding to the book in his hands.

“Oh, this? S’the Bible.”

Of course. You shouldn’t have expected anything else.

“Are you going to read to me?”

Father Miller nodded. “Is—“

“Why?”

He cocked his head. “What d’you mean, ‘why?’ Do you not want me to?”

“No, I just…” You fidgeted. “Do you really think it will help me?” What good would hearing such holy words do if you were already damned?

“Bishop David says it will, and I…I trust him.”

Your eyes flicked down as Father Miller’s large hands opened the book.

“S’this alright?” he asked, his voice suddenly so soft and honey sweet it made you want to hear it again. You nodded.

Father Miller’s eyes fell to the book in his hands.

And he began to read.

I write for The Last of Us, Call of Duty, Outer Banks, Marvel, and Star Wars! (Or any DILF character you can think of) I only write fem!sub!readers, and I’m open to writing smut!

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