Pairing: Joel Miller x Reader Asylum AU
Notes: Religious themes, cultists, topics may be sensitive to readers
Hope you guys enjoy! I've taken some creative liberties (this is an AU after all) with adding in some of my own worldbuilding. I'd love to make a part 2 if there's interest!
Edit: PART TWO is up!
Every time Joel smelled that metallic tang curling beneath his nose, he tried to think of his grandfather’s farm.
Old Grandpa Charlie had been one of those men who never did seem to lose their youth, even with age. He’d been robust, spry. There had been quite a few times when Joel had been out helping him clip the horses’ hooves or shear the sheep when his grandpa would suddenly halt what he was doing. He’d sniff the air, then turn to Joel with a twinkle in his eye.
“Smell that, boy?” he’d ask. “It’ll be rainin’ soon.”
The first time it had happened, Joel had made a frown of confusion so deep it was almost comical on his eight-year-old face. “But there ain’t a cloud in the sky—”
“That don’t matter.” The old man tapped the side of his crooked nose. “You can smell it, see. Smells like metal in the air.”
Sure enough, the next day there had been a downpour.
It helped Joel to look back on such memories. Sometimes, if he pretended hard enough he was back on that farm, he could imagine that the metallic stench permeating the air was due to a coming rainfall rather than the blood spilled on the asylum floor.
The poor woman stuck cleaning the mess met his eyes before he could avert them. She gave him a small, strained smile. “Father Miller,” she greeted.
He nodded back, stomach twisting. He didn’t stop walking.
The woman went back to scrubbing the floor and Joel focused forward once more as he continued down the hall. His clerical collar felt tight, like a serpent squeezing his neck.
Eventually he was far enough where the metallic tang of the blood no longer reached him. Joel began to clear his mind, instead focusing on the task ahead. He’d been serving at the asylum for nearly twenty years and not once had he been assigned to patient collection. When he’d received the call for this particular assignment, he’d had half a mind to argue, but Bishop David had quickly reminded him that the task had been given by God, and as such rejecting this opportunity would be rejecting Him.
Joel exhaled. God’s work, he thought. This is God’s work. It had become a sort of mantra these past years. He had to continually remind himself that Silver Lake Church had assigned him to the asylum because the tortured souls here needed him—he was meant to be a tool in God’s hands to aid Him in His mission of reformation.
Joel held his keycard up to the lock beside the door. When he stepped outside, he squinted his eyes against the harsh sunlight. Gravel crunched beneath the soles of his shoes as he made his way out onto the drive and spotted another priest.
“Mornin’, Father Clyde,” Joel greeted, approaching the man waiting beside the barbed wire gate.
Father Clyde turned and a gentle smile split his face, calling attention to the wrinkles around his mouth. Joel didn’t know exactly how old the man was. Younger than Grandpa Charlie, yet still quite a few years older than Joel himself.
“Good morning, Father Miller,” Father Clyde replied politely.
“That the patient’s file?” Joel asked, nodding to the thin manila folder in Father Clyde’s hands.
Father Clyde nodded. “This is your first time at collections, yes?” His voice was smooth—a contrast to his grooved face.
“Yes, sir.”
Father Clyde passed the file to Joel. “Today is going to be rather…unusual, I am afraid.”
“Unusual?” Joel opened the file to skin the information. “How d’you mean?”
“Many patients can be aggressive when we extract them from the bus, but today’s subject…well, her guardians submitted her blood scale number as a Ten.”
“A Ten?” Joel frowned. “And they only sent two of us to deal with her?”
“This one was described to be…different.”
The Blood Scale was an easy way for society to rank the color of one’s blood—and purity—from One to Ten. The general population fell within the range of Three to Five. Tens were the worst of the lot. Their blood was the color of the sky in the middle of the night—deep black like their demonic souls.
On the other end of the scale, Ones had blood the color of snow on a fresh winter day. They were the purest humans to walk the earth, but the only Ones Joel had met were newly-born babes who didn’t even have the capacity to sin yet. By age thirteen, most people’s once-light blood had already darkened to at least a Three.
Joel looked over the patient’s file once more. “If she’s a Ten, how come she’s not being sent to the East wing?” The East Wing was where they kept all Tens, with a few Nines sprinkled in there every now and then. Joel hadn’t ever been there, but the stories from that part of the asylum made his skin crawl.
“If her guardians felt the need to send her here and Bishop David approved it, then that is all we need to know. It is not our judgment to make,” Father Clyde was saying. “That is revelation that Bishop David receives from God. It is simply our job to carry out the tasks we are assigned to.”
Joel frowned. “The file doesn’t say anything about what her crimes were.”
“It’s not about what she’s done, Father Miller. It’s about who she is. If she’s being sent here then that means her soul must be reformed, regardless of whether her blood is dark or light.”
The sight of the bus driving towards them halted their conversation. The gate opened with a screech, and the bus drove through. Its tires squealed to a stop.
Father Clyde took the file from Joel as the gate rattled closed. He nudged Joel towards the back of the bus, where the bus driver was pulling a keyring out of his pocket.
“You the one collecting?” the driver asked, looking at Joel.
Joel nodded. The driver didn’t respond, he just merely twisted the key into the padlock on the bus’ back door and swung it open. Joel braced himself for an animal of a human being to throw themselves at him, for snapping teeth and sharp fingers…
Inside, fast asleep and curled up on one of the padded benches, was you. You were in a sweatshirt so large it seemed to swallow you whole. You looked tiny. Fragile.
“Wake up!” The bus driver bellowed, thumping his hand on the side of the bus. The jarring sound echoed in the cramped interior.
You jumped awake with a gasp, scrambling to a seated position.
Joel shot the driver an annoyed glance. “Was that really necessary?”
The driver didn’t answer him. He retrieved a small slip of paper from his pocket and approached Father Clyde. “I’m going to need you to sign this…”
Joel turned back to the patient. He had expected…well, anything but this. You were a Ten? Your hoodie was pulled up to your chin protectively and the cuffs of the sleeves covered your hands up to your second knuckle, fingertips barely peeking out. It was dirt-streaked and the hem was caked with mud.
Your face was twisted into a fearful expression, but that didn’t make it any less darling. You had a soft face, strawberry lips, and there was a tiny little v between your brows as they creased in worry. And your eyes. They were wide, watery, and doe-like. You were shaking like a leaf, the poor thing.
Joel took a step closer and you flinched. He paused.
“Hey, darlin’,” he tried in a soft voice. The nickname rolled off his tongue mindlessly. His hands were held out before him, as if trying not to spook a frightened baby deer. “Why don’t you come on out?”
You still hesitated.
“We’ll get you all cleaned up and something warm to eat,” he continued. “How’s that sound, sweetheart?”
Joel could see the conflict in your eyes. You were obviously suspicious of the kindness in his tone, yet it seemed as if you wanted to trust him. You just weren’t sure if you could.
Slowly you got to your feet and approached him as one would a bucking horse. Your bare feet made no sound on the bus floor as you stepped—your shoes must have gotten lost in the scuffle to get her into the bus in the first place.
Your eyes flicked up and down his person, finally coming to rest on his outstretched hand. You stared at it for a painstakingly long time.
Then you delicately slipped your hand into his, your palm soft against his callused one.
there’s not a day that goes by where i don’t think about joel miller.
when is it my turn to have an older man fuck me silly and then hold me after????? when is it my turn to be called a good girl?? when is it my turn to be called princess??
This has so much potential with SugarDaddy!Joel Miller
pretty girl reader who’s actually the sweetest person ever; unfortunately, no matter how kind you are, you’re still a flat broke college student with a heart bigger than your wallet. when your roommate keeps telling you to “use your face card to get us out of this shithole”, you tell her you can’t! she’s suggesting that you go on dating apps and plug your venmo so random men will send you money because they think you’re hot. you (unfortunately for her) have morals, so you think that’s the wrong thing to do. when the after school center you volunteer at doesn’t have enough funding to sponsor gifts for the kids, you finally give in and make the dating profile. you’re clear that the money is only to buy children’s gifts + you’re even willing to prove it by sending receipts of all the items you’ve bought with what you’re calling “donations”
enter in character. rich, hot character who’s focused on work but his best friend makes him a profile. he’s curious to see how his friend set it up and after getting the login info, he finds himself scrolling on the app, bored out of his mind. before he deletes it for good, deeming the app and the five minutes he spent on it a terrible waste of time, he lands on your profile. you’re beautiful, yes, but you’re… collecting money to buy gifts?
intrigued, he messages you. you message him back. you’re earnest and enthusiastic and even through a screen, he can tell: you’re a good person. you’re a genuine person. he doesn’t meet many people like that nowadays. so even after christmas is over and you’ve bought all the gifts, he still finds himself reaching out to you. you have a bright, overly optimistic perspective on everything, and he finds it endearing. he finds everything about you endearing.
just !!! him basically begging you to let him be your sugar daddy (without him ever explicitly using that phrase😭) man who wants to provide x oblivious reader who wouldn’t even take his money without at least doing something in return for him
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.
Pairing: Joel Miller x Reader Asylum AU
← PART TWO
Notes: Religious themes, cultists, topics may be sensitive to readers
Your name.
It had been swirling around his head for days—a beautiful collection of syllables that seemed to sing their own little song when they rolled off Joel’s tongue.
That first day with you hadn’t yielded much progress. In fact, the days afterwards hadn’t really either. It was the same each day—he’d enter your tiny room and sit in the chair across from your bed. He’d ask you simple questions: How are you doin’? Was lunch okay today? Did you sleep alright?
You’d answer them in short little sentences, as if terrified your voice would be stolen should you use it too much. You said you were fine—you always did, but even though your answer to his last question would be a little hum and then a nod, the evidence was plain on your face. Your little cheeks looked hollow, your hair tousled, your eyes drooping.
The only time you seemed to relax was when he read to you, though he wasn’t sure why. Maybe it was because there was no pressure for you to respond and you were able to simply sit there. Maybe you enjoyed listening to God’s word. Maybe it was because you liked the way his voice sounded. He wouldn’t have given any thought to that last one usually, but….well, it was the very topic that prompted you to use your darling voice in one of your sessions with him.
Joel still remembered the surprise he felt when, out of nowhere, you’d spoken up in the middle of his reading.
“Do you always talk like that?” you had asked in a voice so sweet it made Joel want to clutch his chest.
He replied, “Talk like what?”
“Talk with that voice,” you’d said. “You say things like ‘yer’ instead of ‘your,’ or ‘beginnin’’ instead of ‘beginning.’” You tried to mimic his way of speaking as best you could.
He cocked his head. “Do I really sound like that?” He hadn’t thought his accent was that thick. Maybe it was just that way when he got lost in reading.
And then—God help him—you smiled. It was a shy little one, barely even there, but it was a smile nonetheless. “No, you don’t sound exactly like that—I’m bad at copying it. But…it’s similar.”
Joel couldn’t help the grin that had split his face. “I was raised in Texas on my grandfather’s farm,” he explained.
Your eyes seemed to brighten. “A farm?”
Joel nodded. “You ever been to one before?”
You shook your head.
“Well, s’not as exciting as it sounds—it’s pretty dirty. And the horse stables smell even worse.”
You sat up a little. “Horses?”
Joel paused, his eyes flicking over the way your hands had stopped fidgeting. “Yes,” he said slowly. “We had four of ‘em.”
“What were their names?”
“Well, one of ‘em was named Rocky.”
You grinned. “That’s adorable.”
“Short for Rocket Launcher.”
You blinked, then started giggling. If that wasn’t the most angelic sound he’d ever heard…
“Seriously?” You asked, the dimple in your left cheek showing. “Don’t tell me you were the one who named him.”
Joel chuckled. “M’afraid the mind of an eight-year-old boy isn’t all that creative.”
You laughed again, a sound like tinkling bells. Joel wanted to bottle up that laugh and hold it close to his chest, tucked beneath his ribcage and right next to his heart where it would be safe.
“Did you ride them a lot?” You asked. “The horses?”
Joel shrugged. “Every once in awhile. Usually there wasn’t time—too much to be done around the farm. My grandfather was very much a ‘work hard so you can work harder,’ sort of man.”
“I don’t think that’s how the saying goes.”
A corner of Joel’s mouth twitched up. “To him it was.”
“Well then you must have been bored out of your mind. I know I would have been.”
Joel shook his head. “No, it wouldn’t have been the same for you. I’d’ve made sure that your only job would be to sit there and look pretty.”
Something changed in your gaze then—your pupils got a little wide, your cheeks a little pink. Joel watched as the flush bloomed on your skin. The sight of it made him ache.
Then you looked down and fidgeted with the hem of your shirt. “Well, it doesn’t matter,” you whispered. “I won’t be visiting your farm anytime soon.”
That had been a few days ago, and your words had stuck with him. It made something dark and ugly rise up in him, something he had to shove back down and shut away in a box with seven locks. It was blasphemous. Doubting God was sinful.
And yet the question remained.
How could you be a Ten?
It didn’t make any sense. You were just about the sweetest little thing Joel had ever laid eyes on. You looked like you belonged in a white and pink lace dress with your hair pulled back with a butterfly clip, watering strawberries in a garden in the afternoon sunlight.
Surely your blood couldn’t be anything darker than the lightest pink. Surely it couldn’t.
And yet your file said it was. There was no arguing there. But if that were true, if a person as sweet-hearted as you had blood that reflected the exact opposite, then that would mean the Blood Scale system was a sham.
That was a dangerous train of thought, one that made Joel feel as though the ground was crumbling beneath his very feet. He tended to stay away from that part of his mind.
And yet sometimes late at night the question repeated, swirling in his brain so fast it made him dizzy.
How could you be a Ten?
You weren’t alive on Outbreak Day. By the time you were born, enough time had passed since then that the Blood Scale had already been widely recognized across the world. You were four when you saw your first commercial on TV: a regular public service announcement reminding to ‘call this number if you or your family have or have thought to have had an encounter with a Ten.’
By the time you were learning about it in school, the history was already common knowledge. Rankings One through Ten determined purity, reflected by the color of one’s blood. No one knew what had caused it to come about. Some said it was an evolutionary change, your species’ way of adapting to protect itself, to single out the good from the bad on a genetic level. Some said that it was a curse from God. Others said it was a gift from Him.
What they didn’t teach in school was about the before—a time when blood wasn’t colored, when everyone had the same bright red within their skin. Aunt Bea liked telling you stories about it when she wasn’t choking on cigarette smoke or swimming in liquor.
You wondered if Joel had similar stories. He was older than Aunt Bea, and surely his were better than hers, especially if he had lived on a farm with horses….
And he said that all you’d have to do was sit there and look pretty. He’d called you pretty. Maybe it was silly to get this giddy over a simple word, but it helped lift your spirits more than you would ever know. Here in this place you felt dirty. Empty. But Joel looked past the boxy scrubs and the eyebags.
A hand prodded you forward, drawing you out of your reverie. “Keep walking.”
You nearly stumbled, but luckily kept your balance as you continued your pace along the corridor.
Today was supposed to be your first day in the dining hall, and Joseph and Maria were your escorts for the day. Apparently the workers here kept new patients in their rooms for a couple weeks to determine how insane they really were. If they were alright enough to interact with others, they’d have the privilege of not dining alone with the other only-sort-of-crazy members here.
Yay you.
It was something, at least. The situation was bittersweet. On one hand, you’d get to see other people. You had been struggling lately, what with your only dining companions being your four white walls, white bed, white chair, and white floor. Sometimes you pretended that Father Miller was there in the corner reading the Bible to you in that rich, rumbling bass of a voice.
On the other hand, you were kind of sort of absolutely terrified. Everyone inside Silver Lake Asylum was supposed to be criminally insane. Could you really deal with that for forty-five minutes? What if a fight broke out? What if the only thing the guards cared about was making sure you stayed in the asylum, not what physical state you were in?
I’m supposed to be the worst of them as a Ten, you thought to yourself. If I can handle myself, then surely I can handle the others.
You kept that thought with you almost as a shield as Joseph swiped his keycard and opened the dining hall door.
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 ♡︎
Hi all! Just a reminder that if you are a minor or your blog is ageless and you follow me, you will be blocked ♡ It’s nothing personal, it’s just to ensure that all those that interact with my content are 18+.
Awwwe this comment made my day! Glad you liked it! ♡
Hello, i really like everything you write about Joel, i am so in love with him😭💕
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What if reader has been having some insecurities lately and Joel fcks her in front of a mirror, worshipping her and telling her how beautiful she is🎀💖
Here you go anon, hope you like it!
Pairing: Joel Miller x Reader
Summary: You start pulling away from Joel because you’re having doubts about yourself. Joel decides to do something about it.
Notes: smut, p in v, Joel pulls out, praise, body worship, reader has body dysmorphia, reader has insecurities, soft!Joel, dom!Joel, sub!reader, mirror sex
A/n: Yes, I put a Pride and Prejudice reference in there (iykyk 😘)
“Give yourself a compliment.”
The past few weeks, you had been having some…doubts, to say the least. Before, it had been just you and Joel fending for yourselves out in the woods, traveling West. Just you and Joel against the world.
Then you found Jackson.
Oh, what a haven it was. Even if Joel’s brother hadn’t been here, even if you knew nobody in town, you still would have convinced Joel to stay. They had hot water, heating, and goddamn coffee of all things? Yeah. You guys were sticking around.
Not only were you able to shower once a day, but your diet had also changed drastically. Instead of only eating a couple sticks of jerky and some crackers for dinner each day, you had the luxury of consuming steamed broccoli, roast pork, and such excellent boiled potatoes—it had been many years since you’d had such an exemplary vegetable. Now you always went to bed with a full belly.
The diet change was reflected in the way you looked. You could no longer see your ribs through your skin, and your thigh gap was gone. Your eyes looked less sunken, your cheekbones less protruding. Your hips were a little rounder, your tummy a little softer. And you knew that it was a good thing, that it meant you were getting over the malnourishment and becoming healthy again, that you were at a perfectly normal weight for your height—you knew that.
But a small part of your brain whispered otherwise. It didn’t matter if it was healthy or not, it didn’t matter if you had looked like a walking skeleton before, you were getting bigger. You started to wonder if it was getting harder for Joel to lift you during your activities in the bedroom. You started to wonder if he didn’t know what to do with each pound you gained, if he preferred you when you were smaller and lighter, even if you had only been skin and bones.
And so you started to pull away.
You still pleasured Joel, of course. You’d wake him up with your mouth on him, or kiss him while grinding on his bulge. But each time he tried to pull at your clothes to return the favor you’d shake your head and give him some lame excuse like I’m tired, or I promised Maria I’d go help her organize the inventory lists.
Eventually Joel had had enough. He sat you down and kept pushing and pushing, trying to know what was the matter. And oh…his callused hands cupping your face had been so gentle. His eyes had been so soft. You had confessed everything then and there through your tears.
Which brought you to now.
You were in the bathroom in just your bra and panties with Joel standing behind you, one hand gently lingering on the small of your back as you both faced the mirror.
“Give yourself a compliment,” Joel repeated.
Your brow creased and you shook your head. “I can’t,” you whispered.
Joel met your gaze in the mirror. “Come on, sweetheart. You—”
You shook your head again, tears blooming in your eyes.
Joel stood there for a few moments, his hand still stroking over the small of your back. Soon he spoke. “Well, I’ll start, then,” he said, his voice tender. “That alright with you, darlin’?”
He didn’t give you time to reply. He lifted your hand to his lips and pressed an achingly soft kiss to the back of it. “I love your hands,” he whispered. “Look at ‘em—so small, so soft. I like it when you use ‘em to run through my hair, or when I hold your hand as we walk through town.”
He moved his hand up to gently hold your chin. “And your face—my gorgeous girl. And those eyes… I love when you let me hold your cheek as I kiss those soft lips…”
Joel kissed the sensitive patch of skin beneath your jaw and your breath hitched. You could feel his smile against you as he moved down, kissing along your neck to your shoulder. His hands went to your hips and squeezed.
You hesitated, doubt filling you. “Joel—”
“Ah, I’m not done yet.” He kneaded at the softness on your hips and thighs. “Oh…I love this piece of you, honey…grabbin’ onto these hips every time I wanna tell everyone you’re mine, or when I’m drivin’ into you in the bedroom.”
Your breath caught at that, cheeks flushing the same color as the strawberries that Maria was starting to grow for the town.
Joel chuckled and before you knew it your bra was unhooked and tossed across the room, but that didn’t matter because the moment it was gone Joel’s hands were there. You gasped again as he started to gently squeeze, thumbs flicking over the peaks.
“And these,” he went on, voice dropping lower. “You’re so soft, babygirl, ‘specially these pretty tits. Just wanna kiss ‘em and bite ‘em all day every day.” He pinched one of your nipples and you whimpered. You could feel his bulge pressing into you from behind.
One of his hands stayed working on your breast as the other flattened and smoothed down the front of your torso. “And this pretty tummy…makes me so happy to see you like this, baby. Full of food every night. It means I’m doin’ my job providin’ for you.”
Joel’s relentless touching was really getting to you. You were damp between your legs by now surely.
“And here…” Joel slid his hand past the waistband of your panties and you whimpered as his fingers stroked along your wetness. He let out a breath that was nearly a groan. “I love feelin’ you here, sweetheart. Feelin’ you clench around me as you finish, gettin’ that hazy look in your eyes…”
He pushed two fingers into you and you whined, arching your back against him. “Joel—”
“Shh,” he whispered. He mouthed at your neck and curled his fingers to stroke along your front wall. “Look at you, darlin’.” When you were nice and ready, he retracted his fingers. You whimpered at the loss, but it soon turned into a gasp as he unzipped his pants and pushed his length into you.
You let out a soft moan and closed your eyes at the feeling. Oh…he was so big, so—
He nipped at your neck and your eyes flicked open with a gasp. “Eyes on yourself, pretty girl. Want you to see how gorgeous you are takin’ me.”
At that, hesitation won over arousal for a split second. “Joel, I don’t…”
He kissed the part of your neck he bit, his affection so tender it made your heart swell. “You trust me?”
You nodded.
“You can do this, baby. Watch. I’m gonna take care of you.”
You bit your lip, then nodded again.
Joel grinned. “Good girl,” he cooed. “Put your hands on the counter.”
You did as he asked. The white porcelain was cold against your palms, but one of Joel’s big hands came to rest atop one of yours. The other grabbed your hip.
Then he started to move.
You let out a moan as he dragged along your walls. It had been so long since you both had done this and he was filling you so well, making it hard to breath, hard to see, hard to think…
“Eyes open, baby.”
They had closed in your feeling of ecstasy and you hastily snapped them open. Sex with Joel was always erotic, but actually watching it happen in the mirror like this…
He reached down to thumb at your clit and you let out a soft whine. Joel chuckled. “Needy girl,” he murmured. He let out a groan into your neck. “So warm, darlin’.”
Joel thrust into you deeper and put a hand on your stomach. “Another thing I love,” he whispered, “is when I make it so you can feel me all the way up in this pretty tummy.”
You mewled at that. There was a white-hot fire in your lower belly and it ached and you didn’t know if you wanted the fans flamed or extinguished or—
“Look how pretty my babygirl looks when she’s takin’ me,” Joel murmured.
Your eyes were half-lidded in the mirror, breasts moving with every thrust up into you. There was a flush around your cheekbones and nose and your lips were softly parted as Joel took you.
“Mmm.”
“Oh?” Joel kept rubbing circles into your clit as your hips squirmed. “Was that an agreement, sweet girl?”
You hesitated. Your mind was too blissed out to think clearly. “I—“
“Does my pretty baby see how I see her now?” A particularly well-placed thrust from Joel had you keening. “How beautiful she is?”
You whined and rocked back against him. Something was building inside you, a tight coil right between your legs, and it was too hot, too hot, and you…you needed…
“Fall apart for me, sweetheart,” Joel breathed.
You did. You let out a high-pitched moan and your walls clenched around Joel’s length, causing him to grunt. Your head swam. Your vision fuzzed. You barely even registered Joel pulling out and his spend landing on the back of your thigh.
Your legs shook and you let out a pathetic whine. Joel was quick to scoop you into his arms. “I gotcha, babygirl,” he whispered, kissing your cheek as he carried you to the bedroom. “Gotta lay on your tummy so I can clean you up, yeah?”
You nodded and let him place you on the bed face down. Your entire body felt like it was melting.
Joel left for the bathroom and soon returned with a warm washcloth to gently wipe between your legs and at his spend on the back of your thigh. When he was done he took you into his arms.
Chest to chest, he smiled down at you and pushed hair back from your face. “Hi pretty girl.”
You smiled back. “Hi,” you whispered.
His thumb caressed your cheekbone for a moment. “I know your feelings about yourself aren’t going to disappear overnight and that’s okay, but…you think you can give yourself a compliment now?”
You blushed, then nodded. “I like it when you make my cheeks flush.” Your voice was small, shy.
“Yeah?” Joel’s eyes sparkled. “How come?”
“Because I think I…” You swallowed. “I think I look pretty like that.”
Joel grinned. “Yes you do, baby.” He held you close. “Yes…you most definitely do.”
Tainted prayers part 4? 🎀
Glad you like the fic enough to request another part! I will get to it at some point, right now I have a decent amount of requests in my inbox for drabbles/oneshots that I want to get to first. But I will eventually be back to Tainted Prayers, don’t worry!
Also for those who have requested and haven’t seen their asks answered for awhile—I promise I haven’t abandoned them! I’m actively working on them, I just want to make sure the content I’m producing for you is high quality and not rushed :) so that’s why it may be taking some extra time.
Dare I say Joel Miller
Holding your hand and telling you how well you’re taking it while every inch is inside you
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