Joel Miller Smut - Blog Posts

homesick.

fluff. joel miller x fem!reader

summary: after the new year's party in Jackson and Joel's fight with Ellie, you can't help but worry about him, so you keep him company on that cold night.

...

The hum of guitars and laughter fades into the snowy distance as you walk toward the neighborhood. Each step leaves soft prints behind in the thick white layer blanketing the ground. Your hands stay buried deep in your pockets, too afraid to let them out—afraid the cold will sink into your bones and steal the feeling from your fingers.

Most of the houses are dark, their porches swallowed in shadow, except for one. A single light glows dimly above a familiar doorway. You recognize it instantly.

The soft strum of a guitar drifts toward you, sweet and aching. A smile tugs at your lips, faint but full of meaning.  You can see Joel sitting on his porch, strumming his guitar.

Gaze softening you continue walking toward him, and you recognize the notes being played on the instrument. You also recognize the look in his eyes, the same he held back at the party when the scene with Ellie unfolded. 

He continues playing slowly, his eyes fixed on the instrument but somewhat distant, clouded by thoughts. Your heart skips a beat as you remember his eyes, the way he looked around at that moment back at the party.

You step quietly up the path, the snow muffling your steps. Joel looks up as you near, his face softening the second he sees you. The guitar stills beneath his touch.

"Hey kiddo..." he musters quietly, in a tone he thinks he has reserved only for you. The nickname makes you warm inside.

Leaning your shoulder against one of the porch columns, you smile—small, almost apologetic. “Happy New Year.”

It’s been hours since midnight, but you hadn’t seen him during the toast, not after… well, not after everything. “You okay?” you ask, careful not to pry, because you know him.

Silence creeps in between you. You still keep your hands inside your pockets. Joel sighs, pulling his guitar from his lap and placing it gently on the floor beside his seat.

"Aint have t'worry 'bout me, darlin'..." The southern accent slipping through his tongue, but you know better than to not worry, not after what happened. "and happy new year to you too, sweetheart"

You smile again but you dont say anything, not like you would normally do in other ocasions. You draw your lips in a thin line as you keep looking at him. Your gaze turns worried again.

"Can I keep you company?" you finally ask, and you wonder why do you ask, and he does it too. He knows that even if he said no in that moment you will still stay there anyway.

Joel sighs and tries to look away from you. He tries to keep his façade on, but he knows... he knows you know. He knows you know he has grown soft. He tends to tell himself it's because of his age perhaps, but he can't even fool himself with that. He feels the weight of your gaze, expecting him to let you in.

Joel, even though he wouldn't dare to admit it out loud, feels like your eyes melt him inside, so he tries to gaze at the pitch black sky instead, but the flutter in his chest doesn't dissapear... it never does.

Maybe, just maybe, he says to himself, it's because he feels softer these past few months and years since he stablished himself in Jackson, and your eyes hold the warmth he's been craving. Or maybe, perhaps, it's the way he has felt so lonely lately, but... it's not like that. He has realized, or realizes there in that moment at least, that he doesn't crave any other kind of warmth that doesn't come from your eyes, and the way you stare at him.

Sometimes, in nights like these, while he lays in his bed, he thinks of you, and your eyes. And whenever he goes out, he secretly wishes he will see you before you go to your job, or run into you somewhere in town, just to see your beautiful face.

Things haven't been great lately for him, and tonight he feels the most empty after the party and everything that happened with Ellie. And you... you look so beautiful, he wouldn't have ever thought years ago, not even in his wildest and sweetest dreams, that he will be in the presence of such a beautiful girl like you, just the two alone. 

He feels it—the way your eyes look at him. The warmth in them that breaks past everything he’s built up.

"C'mere..." he only limits himself to mutter that. 

Your smile is soft—tinged with sadness—as you step toward him. Joel rises from his chair, waiting for you.

Once you are face to face, the space between you two is closed. You tell yourself it's because of the cold that you seek the closeness, but you know it's not. You pull your hands from inside your pockets, and you quietly reach for both of his hands. You watch as Joel's posture and gaze shifts for a moment as you take his calloused hands in yours. 

Your eyes turn concerned as you feel the coldness of his hands against your skin, bringing them to your face, trying to warm them up with your breath. Joel’s chest tightens. The way you do that—so tender, like he’s fragile—it hits something buried deep. He notices your hands are cold too, your nose and cheeks flushed pink from the winter. He resists the urge to cup your face right then and there.

“Let’s head inside,” Joel says gruffly, his voice dipping into that stern edge he wears when he’s worried. “Don’t want ya gettin’ sick.”

You nod and let go of his hands. He clears his throat and heads to his front door, opening it for you to get inside, where the warmth of his home welcomed you like a blanket. The scent of aged wood, faint tobacco, and something like old leather surrounds you. It smells like him.

The house is modest—lived in. A few stacks of books sit by the worn armchair, a record player rests in the corner, a flannel blanket folded over the couch. The walls carry warmth in their deep brown tones, and soft light from the fireplace flickers against them, casting golden shadow.

You move toward the fire, holding your hands out to it and rubbing them together. The relief is instant. Behind you, Joel steps closer, his shoulders brushing yours as he joins you. Even if you don't actually feel him because of the many layers of clothes you both have, it still feels intimate.

The warm light from the fireplace cast shadows against his rough features. You stare at the curve of his nose, the deep set of his eyes, the wrinkles, the silver at his temples and beard, and the bags under his eyes. You had never seen anyone so handsome. He has been the subject of your thoughts ever since you came to Jackson. And even though he didn't seem like it at first or to anyone but you, he was so sweet, the sweetest man. Contrary to what everyone in town had tell you or keeps telling you to this day.

“You weren’t at the toast,” you say finally. “I figured maybe…” You make a pause. “Just give her some time…” you whisper instead, the words slipping out.

Joel sighs and closes his eyes, a hand raking through his hair as he turns and sinks into the couch slowly, muscles and joints sore from days of work.

“‘M tryin’ my best,” he says, voice thick with something he’s holding back. You follow and sit beside him, removing your jacket as you turn to face him, looking for his eyes.

"I know..." you murmur. "It's your first time going through this, dealing with teens is not easy... but I can see you are always alone, and after..." you pause for a second before continuing, debating on how to put what you wanted to say with the correct words. "after what happened tonight, I- I get worried about you too."

His head turns to you once those words come out of your mouth. 

"'m fine darlin'" Joel says, one of his arms coming to rest on the back of the couch behind your neck. "'m used to being alone... stop worrying that pretty head of yours". He tries to muster up a smile, but only one of the corners of his mouth tilts up in a makeshift smile.

"Don't lie, I know you." you say as you lean your head against his shoulder. "You are always here with your guitar or working. I know you say you are used to being alone but... I also know you don't really want to." Joel swears his heart almost skips a beat when you wrap your arms around his torso, cuddling his side.

"Sweetheart..." He says, one of his hands tilting your chin up, trying to look for your eyes. "You ain't gotta worry 'bout an old man like me, you are so young—"

"Don't start Joel, because you know I dont care". You warn him as you roll your eyes at him. " Look me in the eyes and tell me to leave then..." Joel sighs at your comment, knowing he won't win. He groans as he adjusts his body on the couch to let you cuddle on his chest. A smile creeps up on your features once you know he won't lecture you.

His other arm comes to wrap on your front as you throw your legs over his. His chin rests against the top of your head as he exhales, getting comfortable. You nuzzle your head on his chest, the soft fabric of his flannel and his smell conforts you.

"Don't like seeing you like this... alone and sad, I- I can't stand it." You mumble against his chest. "Let me stay with you."

Joel feel his breath hitch at you request. He knows he can't deny you, and he tries to fight it but... tonight, tonight he feels exhausted. His heart cries out for you as much as his body does. Lips press on the top of your head, and Joel inhales the sweet scent of you shampoo. A knot threatens to form on the back of his throat, the moment snapping and pulling at his heart strings. He does not want to break down, not in front of you but it seems like you always know. Without warning he feels a single tear fall from his left eye. 

"Stay..." the words come out a little broken from the strain on his voice, and he mentally curses himself. He feels you reaching for his hand, placing yours on top of his. He moves it so your palm is against his now. His hands are worn out, big and calloused, thick skin from the heavy work and survival years. 

Joel takes away the hand to reach for your face, his fingers finding the soft skin of your cheeks, stroking it lovingly. Your eyes close as you relish on the closeness. 

He reaches to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear as his eyes look for yours. You finally stare up at him, your face turning concerned at the sight of his teary eyes. You open your mouth to say something but just before you know it Joel speaks.

"Shh, 's okay... 's okay babygirl" Joel says as he watches your eyes full of concern threatening to fill with tears too. His fingers keep brushing the hair out of your face softly as he inches closer to your face.

"Darlin'..." he whispers, your lips almost touching, as his eyes bore into yours. "C-can I kiss you?"

The way he asks makes your heart melt, your gaze drifting to his lips. You only manage to nod before he connects your lips in a tender kiss. 

Joel is in cloud nine at that very moment as he relishes in the softness of your lips against his chapped ones, and the way it's all he imagined you would feel like. One of his hands stays in the back of your head, tangling in the strands of soft hair, the other holds your chin gently. You are all he has ever dreamt of.

He breaks the kiss slowly, and pecks your lips once, twice after. His forehead comes to rest against yours.

Joel watches the firelight flicker across your face like it’s something sacred. He hasn’t said much since you curled into him, but the weight of his silence is louder than words.

After a while, his voice breaks the quiet.

“I shouldn’t want this,” he says, barely louder than the crackling wood. “Shouldn’t want you.”

You look up at him, confusion flickering in your gaze.

He sighs, looks away, jaw clenched. “I’m not a good man,” he says flatly. “I’ve done things. Bad things. Things that’d make you look at me different if you knew the whole truth.”

You open your mouth, but he shakes his head, already bracing himself for what he thinks you’ll say.

“I look at you,” he cuts in, voice straining, “and I feel like I’m starvin’. Like you’re the first warm thing I’ve had in years and I don’t know how to hold it without breakin’ it.”

You reach up, gently touching his cheek. He flinches, just barely—like he’s not sure he’s allowed to be touched like this.

“I don’t care about what you’ve done,” you whisper. 

His eyes meet yours, filled with disbelief, hope, and something aching.

“You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to hear that,” he admits, voice cracking. “But wantin’ don’t mean I deserve it.”

You lean in closer, forehead resting against his.

“Then let me decide what you deserve,” you breathe. “Because all I want… is you.”

Joel swallows hard, hands trembling slightly as they cup your face.

“I don’t know how to love without fear,” he says, honest and broken. “But if you’ll have me, I’ll try. I’ll try every damn day.”

Your lips find his—slow, tender, full of everything words couldn’t carry.

And when he kisses you back, it’s not as a man who thinks he deserves it. It’s as a man who’s been given something he thought he’d never feel again.

Hope. Warmth. A second chance.

You stay wrapped in each other’s arms, and though nothing outside has changed, Joel’s world has. Just a little.

Because tonight, for the first time in a long time, he lets himself believe. So that night, you stay.

I’ll update my masterlist soon while I’m on my little mini hiatus- only a week and half left of school, I’ll be back soon!!!

(In the meantime please leave request, I love getting them!!!)

-Liv xoxo

I’m taking a (somewhat) short break 🫶🏻

I’ve got about 4 weeks left for my semester at college and my professors are loading me up with work. I would love to write right now, but I’m just trying to not burn out with school work. I hope that you guys can understand.

In the meantime I hope that you guys can load up my requests, that way I can have plenty of stuff for you guys when I return!!! I know I don’t have a lot of followers but you guys mean so much to me so I love you guys 🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻

See you guys in a bit!

-Liv 🫶🏻

Can you please write joel and female reader getting walked in on💙

Hiyaaaa!!! This was supposed to be out like a week ago but the draft for this got deleted and i got caught up with school work otherwise i would’ve had it out quicker and longer :))))))

This is my first Joel request so thank youuuu. I hope you like it!!

Mdni, 18+

——————————

Things were normal just a few minutes ago.

You were just working outside in the garden on your hands and knees, and the next you’re in the kitchen getting bent over the kitchen table.

You weren’t exactly sure what happened, you didn’t even hear your husband come in through the back sliding door. Joel had been working outside, fixing the deck you guys had to prep from the summer barbecue’s you’d plan on doing. Now he was bent over you, grunting into your ear.

“Fuck- come on baby.” He grunted, kissing the side of your neck and thrusting deep into you. You could hear the skin of his hips hitting your ass with every thrust, making you clench even harder around him.

“Ah-Joel!” You moan out to your husband, reaching behind you to grab his arm. He wraps that arm around your waist, pulling you even closer to his sweaty body. You threw your head back when you felt Joels other hand reach down to rub your clit, bringing you closer and closer to your release. Joel knew you were close too, you seem to be clenching tighter with every thrust.

“Yeah, come for me baby, almo-“

“Hey Joel I got that wood you w-Oh shit!” is all you hear before realizing Tommy just walked through the front door. You and Joel immediately separate and try to fix your clothes. You let out a yelp, face getting immediately red from the situation.

“Jesus Tommy, what the hell!” Joel growls at his brother, who now had his back turned to give you two a bit of privacy.

“Well maybe you should lock your door lovebirds.” He responds peaking over his shoulder at you two. Joel just shakes his head, grumbling at his brother. He walks over to him and starts to push him out the front door.

“Shouldn’t have to lock the door if you learned how to knock dumbass.” He tells him, pushing him out and locking the door behind him. Once Tommy is out, Joel turns around and leans against the door with his eyes closed. You walk towards him and grab onto his arms, pulling him towards you into an embrace.

“You think he saw anything?” You ask up at him, face still a bit red from the whole scenario. Joel gives a small hmm, brushing your hair out of your face.

“Better not have.” He tells you, giving you a small kiss. When he pull away from you he looks down at you with a smirk.

“Now, where were we?”

Gonna write some stuff tn or tmrw if you’d like to leave a request <333

Everyday I laugh over the fact that I write smut while being a virgin. Now I have dabbled into the sorts but still a virgin. I have no clue if the shit I write is realistic- I just know I want it to happen to me but realistically it never will.

Anywho- feeling 100x better hopefully I can write something up for yall and have it posted soon.

Xoxo - Liv <3

Sad right now because I was going to write some stuff this weekend for various characters and ya girl got a cold- heavy on the cold part because I legit can’t stop shivering atm. So apologies if I don’t post much for another week or so.

For now I shall be watching animes, kdramas, and jdramas, and of course reading fanfic.

goodnight my loves 🫶🏻

Xoxo

-Liv

Taking my last final today, wish me luck 😖😖

I need dick so bad rn….anyways

Tumblr….STOP GIVING ME THE SAME 10 FICS ON MY DASH

Oh what id do for dbf Joel

I Baby, I'm Your National Anthem I 2003!DBF!Joel Miller I

Summary: You are back from college for the summer and your family happens to throw the annual Fourth of July Barbecue for your street. Your next-door neighbor and dad's best friend Joel Miller is invited—and you decide to wear a bold outfit. It definitely catches his attention.

Pairing: 2003!DBF!Joel Miller x F!Reader Rating: Explicit / MDNI Word count: 3.3k Tags: Explicit, Smut, Age Difference, Pre-Cordyceps Outbreak, Fourth of July, DBF!Joel, Fingering, P in V Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Pool Sex, Unsafe Sex, Dirty Talk, Biting, Teasing, Making Out, Outdoor Sex, Alcohol (like two beers)

AO3 LINK // Masterlist

notes: i saw one (1) tiktok with this fucking glorious fourth of july outfit and somehow this happened. consider this fanfic to be my application to be invited to your 4th of july party next year (yes, you specifically). enjoy the filth <3 (also highly recommend listening to national anthem by lana while reading!)

The sound of the sprinklers rotating on the lawn in front of your window and the slamming of a truck door alerted you that your father was back with the last minute groceries. You quickly got up, heading out to the driveway to help carry the brown bags.

“Take those first, it’s ice cream for the kids. Don’t want it melting,” he advised as he busied himself with grabbing the cooler off the truck bed, disappearing towards the garden, the fence running along it already decorated with red, white and blue, matching the tablecloths and flags hung from the large tree in your backyard to the porch.

You had just got back from college for the summer and had been more than ready to enjoy your time off as you usually did, by lounging in the sun behind your house or going for a swim in the neighbor’s pool. The honeymoon phase of holidays, before they turned into the unavoidable boredom that followed once all reunions had been completed and, at the same time, reminded you precisely why you’d gotten out of the small neighborhood in Austin at your first chance.

The bag you’d brought home was still on the floor in your room, barely half unpacked. Sitting on top of it was the outfit you had picked out weeks ago—at the precise moment your father had called to let you know it was your family's turn to host your street's traditional barbecue on the Fourth of July.

A blue and white checkered bikini, the bottoms made of much less fabric than you’d ever seen sold in Austin. A pair of shorts that seemed barely bigger, cut low enough to give a peak of the set below—and a crop top, the words ‘Miss America’ splayed across your chest in curved, red letters, complete with two red bows attached to the straps. You were certain that, if your father still had a say in your clothing choices, this would not go—and that was precisely why it was perfect. If your father hated it, so would his best friend.

Joel Miller had been little more than your kind next-door neighbor for years—until you’d come back from college for your first break. Suddenly, you questioned how for years you’d been able to miss the way his shirt strained over his broad shoulders or the small grunts that left him when he was tinkering with his truck in the driveway.

You ignored your father’s muttered comments about your outfit as you returned to the kitchen a few minutes later and busied yourself with the last few preparations.

“It’s what all the girls at college wear.” He shook his head but stayed quiet.

Joel and Sarah arrived a little later than the other guests, greeting your father as they stepped into the backyard and you caught something about a mess-up at the construction site as the two men embraced. You turned your attention towards Sarah, who excitedly asked your opinion about her new sneakers and didn’t run off to join the other kids playing football at the far end of the backyard until you reassured her that they were indeed very cool, throwing in a comment about how you’d seen someone at University wear them—making her positively beam.

You turned towards the house just in time to see Joel’s eyes land on you. Oh boy.

His gaze trailed down your body, tracing your curves, no doubt taking in the shape of your body. It took him a few moments to snap out of it, shifting as his gaze returned to your face before he hesitantly crossed the space between you. The polite, strained expression on his face told you exactly how hard he was trying to keep his eyes from wandering.

“Back from college then?” he asked, clearly keeping the conversation light. Though you did like to think, unlike many others, that he actually wanted to know. That he cared.

“For the summer,” you responded, smiling up at him innocently, still aware of his eyes on you.

“How d’you like it?” Joel placed a hand on his hip, looking at you expectantly.

“It's good. A little exhausting sometimes. Lots of studying.” You grinned as you saw him raise a brow.

“Studying, eh?” There was something twinkling in his eyes, a certain sense of mischief you hadn't seen in him before. “That what all the kids do up there these days?”

“That and a few parties,” you admitted with a small smirk. “You know, finding the balance of life. But college boys are—”

Both your heads flew around as you heard your dad call your name and for a second, your heart felt like it stopped. You'd wanted to tease Joel by talking about college boys, not reveal your love life to your father. But clearly, he hadn't heard. “Get Joel a beer, will you?”

Joel opened his mouth—but then he shook his head. His voice sounded strained as he spoke. “Beer sounds good.”

You led him towards the cooler, reaching down to grab two bottles, handing one to him. A bemused smile played around his lips as he nodded towards the bottle still clutched in your hand. “Your old man letting you sneak beers?”

“He doesn't have to,” you said with a satisfied smirk, grabbing the bottle opener and handing it to him. “Turned twenty-one this spring.”

You could see Joel's hand shaking slightly as he opened his beer before motioning for you to give him yours and doing the same for you. “Quite the gentleman,” you mumbled, taking in the way his green flannel sat a bit too tight around his broad chest.

“You don't know half of it.”

During the afternoon, the light blue sky seemed to be celebrating the holiday as much as the people below it. The barbecue was fired up by your father, the other fathers gathering around as he explained the new, improved features, making you roll your eyes. You drifted back and forth between the adults and the children, joining the latter for a few rounds of football until the sun began to set.

Joel kept his distance and, with a slightly heavy heart, you followed his lead. He was rather quiet but still, you could see his eyes flying towards you occasionally. You began to wonder if you had miscalculated.

When the salad bowl ran low for the second time, you volunteered yourself to head inside to refill it. You had barely placed it on the kitchen counter when you felt him standing in the doorway, leaning casually against the dark wood. His eyes trailed down your form more slowly than before, leaving no doubt in your mind that the outfit had fulfilled its purpose of getting his attention.

“Quite a party.” His gaze was still not meeting yours, lingering on your chest.

“Wait until they bring out the fireworks. My dad bought enough to light up the whole street.” Your voice shook slightly as you spoke.

Joel shook his head, a tiny smile forming on his face as he stepped forward. “Ain’t what I meant.” His hand brushed over your thigh and you sent an anxious glimpse out the window, making sure that you weren't in anyone's line of sight.

“It's a pretty bikini,” Joel mumbled, lowering his voice. His thumb was brushing over the checkered fabric where it peeked out from under your shorts. “Shame you aren't taking a swim in it.”

An involuntary breath left your throat as you felt his free hand coming up to your face, nudging your chin up slightly. You couldn't remember ever being so close to him, your brain going into overdrive as it tried to figure out which part of his face to commit to memory first. Desire burned in your core brighter than ever and between that and the beer possibly clouding your judgment, you bit your lip, sending the man in front of you a shy smile and yet abandoning all care. You'd be back to college in a few weeks. If this went wrong, you'd never have to speak to him again.

“Is that an offer?”

“Damn sure is, darling,” Joel mused, his hand squeezing your hip and you let out a small breath of relief.

You thanked all your lucky stars for the architect who had built your house some 50 years ago—and had clearly taken into account that you would one day need to sneak out the back door with your dads best friend—preferably without being seen. It faced towards the high fence that separated your yard from the Miller’s, making it feel almost too easy for the two of you to sneak off.

You hadn’t even reached the pool when you dropped your shirt and pants to the floor, making Joel whistle lowly behind you. “I was right. It is a fucking pretty bikini.” You felt your cheeks flush at the compliment, his eyes still raking over your body as his clothes joined yours on the floor, leaving him in only his boxers.

You’d seen him shirtless a few times. When you'd brought over something you had borrowed and he was in the pool or the one time you'd been over to help Sarah with some homework and he'd just gotten out of the shower, a beige towel wrapped around his waist. You’d felt like some fucking creep when you had recalled the sight of his naked chest, and the trail of hair leading further down, at night and slipped a hand between your own thighs, thinking that you stood no chance with the man who was frequently whispered about by the single ladies of the neighbourhood, despite rarely showing interest in them.

You lowered yourself into the water and felt it ripple around you as Joel followed. The next moment, he was beside you, pushing you towards the other edge of the pool, strong arms caging you in on either side. You could still hear the party going on behind the fence, voices and music, the smell of barbecue drifting through the air. And a few lights—tiny holes in the fence allowing them to travel through, the warm glow reflecting on the surface of the pool.

Joel growled as he nipped at your skin, hard enough that you already knew it'd leave marks. Good.

“Can't let you go back to college without something to remind you of me,” he muttered and you sucked in a breath in response, the words going straight to your core. His teeth scraped over the notch between your collarbones and you felt a moan begin to travel up your throat. Before it could escape however, Joel's hand clasped firmly over your mouth, forcing you to breathe through your nose as your eyes widened slightly.

“Don't want your dad hearing us, do you?” Joel muttered and indeed you could hear the voice of your father booming through the night air as he delivered some punchline to a no doubt stupid joke. You shook your head softly and that seemed to satisfy Joel because the next moment, his hand left your mouth and began to slide down your body, trailing over it the same way his eyes had earlier tonight. Your breath hitched in your throat as you felt his index finger circle drawing shapes on your hip before slipping under your bikini, brushing past your clit and settling between your folds.

“Hard to tell in here but feels like you’re wet for me,” Joel muttered with a grin and you bit your lip, voice hoarse as you tried to keep quiet.

“Took you long enough to notice,” you teased—and the reaction was immediate. He pushed you further against the side of the pool, trapping you with his broad body.

“Watch it.” His index finger moved upwards—and the next moment, your walls were clenching around it, already begging for more. You felt a second finger drawing large circles around your clit again—when a noise on the other side of the fence made both of you pause, heads swiveling around just in time to see a football land on the lawn.

He cursed under his breath, pushing himself off you and dragging you to the end of the pool least visibly from the house. The deck was raised high enough above the water that if you squeezed yourself against the wall, you just may not be seen—especially in the dark. Once he had pushed you into the corner, he was about to follow when your eyes widened. “Joel, the clothes,” you whispered in a panicked voice.

“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath and crossed the pool in a few strokes, climbing back onto the porch. You watched, holding your breath, as he looked around, finally locating two towels and throwing one over the mixed pile of clothes and wrapping the other around his waist. No second too late, because the next moment one of the men who had marveled at your dads new barbecue earlier strode over the lawn. “Miller, hey! What’re you doing out here?”

Even in the water, you felt your knees go weak. Joel was dripping wet, his cheeks flushed—your only hope was that the other man was either too drunk or too stupid to realize what was happening.

“Heard something thud against the wall.” You heard Joel respond. “Was just taking a shower, Tony spilled his beer all over my shirt earlier.”

The other man let out a small laugh. “Yeah, he’s wasted.” You couldn't see him from where you were standing but you heard him pick up the ball as an idea popped into your head. You shifted slightly, knowing your movement would be visible to Joel, who was still in your sight—and after a moment, you held up your bikini bottoms, smiling innocently. Joel's eyes flickered towards you for a split second—and even in the dark you could see his body tense, adjusting the towel around his waist as the veins on his neck bulged with restraint.

Footsteps told you the other man was leaving, until they paused again. His voice rang through the yard once more. To your horror, it was your name that filled the air. “Do you know where she went? Her father was looking for her I think.”

Joel's face twitched before he forced himself to smile. “No clue. Maybe calling a secret college boyfriend.”

He waited until the man's laughter had drifted away and joined with the noises of the party again before he dropped the towel, his cock straining at the fabric of his boxers.

As soon as he was back in the pool, he was upon you, cowering over you with a hard expression on his face, snatching the small piece of fabric from your hand. “Think it’s fucking funny?” He muttered, his eyes flying over your face. 

The alcohol was definitely having an effect on you because you grinned, nodding weakly. “A little bit.”

Joel actually fucking growled at that.

He made short work of your bikini top, yanking it off to gather your breasts in his large hands, squeezing slightly. “That fucking mouth of yours, darling.”

“Should shut me up,” you muttered back and his eyes briefly searched yours before his mouth was on yours. Neither of you were gentle, much too impatient for soft kisses. His tongue slipped into your mouth, his teeth grazed over your lip and you could feel the vibrations of his groans traveling right from his throat into yours.

When he broke the kiss, you whined in protest, wrapping your own arms around him to pull him closer, making him groan as his still covered cock brushed against your stomach. “Goddamn, baby, you gonna let me fuck you?”

Joel didn't even flinch when you softly bit down on his earlobe. “Like you have to ask, Miller.”

His last name seemed to do as much to him as it did to you because his hands briefly left your sides to yank his boxers down, throwing them carelessly onto the lawn behind you. “Get your ass up here,” he commanded as he hoisted you up and you automatically wrapped your legs around his waist, feeling his cock nudge at your entrance.

Joel swallowed and you could see him struggling to restrain himself. “Do you want me to go and get-”

“Got it covered,” you said impatiently before he could even finish the sentence.

“You sure?” He asked again and you nodded impatiently. And then he was finally pushing his hips upwards, his cockhead parting your lips, requesting entrance. You let your body fall into his rhythm, sinking down on him, forcing a whimper from your throat.

You barely heard the shuffling behind the fence and the voices getting more muted as the party seemed to be moved towards the street, further away from you.

“It ain’t your first time, is it, sweetheart?” Joel suddenly piped up, watching your expression carefully and you could distinctly hear the note of concern in his voice. But you shook your head.

“Told you,” you breathed out. “College boys.”

“This gonna be better than any damn college boy,” Joel mumbled, a grunt leaving his throat as he began to thrust up into you properly, driving any worry out of your mind.

“You knew what you were doing to me tonight?” He muttered, causing you to shake your head despite the fact that you knew exactly, even planned, to do it to him. You wanted to give a snarky response, something smart, but you could barely think straight with his cock nestled so deep inside of you.

“Made me hard all throughout dinner, thinking about all the things i could do with you,” Joel answered his own question before changing his angle slightly, his arms wrapped tightly around you. “Fuck, doing so good for me, darling.”

“Joel—” you choked out, feeling the orgasm that had been lingering for what felt like forever now approaching rapidly. “Want you to come inside, please—”

His eyes darkened as he nodded. And then, suddenly a sparkling light reflected in his eyes—followed by a loud bang far above you. The fireworks had started.

It only took a few more thrusts and Joel's finger returning to your clit to send you rushing towards your orgasm, your fingernails scratching over his back so hard that you were certain you were not going to be the only one with something to remember tomorrow.

“Come on,” Joel edged you on. “Show me how pretty you look coming on my cock, baby.”

And you did, groaning as your body tensed, the feeling inside your stomach so similar to the exploding fireworks above, with Joel following suit, obeying your wish and spilling himself deep inside of you as you clung on to him, so content to finally, finally carry him so deep inside, the thought traveling right to your core again as he gathered you in his arms, both of you tilting your heads back enough to watch the sky above sparkle in different colors.

“Happy fourth, Joel.”

He pressed a kiss to your cheek. “Happy fucking fourth, darling.”

He gathered the clothes in his arms, whispering promises and praise as he led you up the stairs to his bathroom, having insisted to at least get you clean before letting you sneak back home. His hands brushed over your naked skin, causing you to raise a brow. “I thought we were gonna take a shower?” “Oh, I'm not nearly done with you,” Joel muttered in your ear, causing you to smirk. You reached for your clothes but Joel only gave a small tut. “You’ll get them back. Just not—” He raised the checkered bikini bottom. “This. I’m keeping that.”

thank you for reading! every time you leave a comment, a firework explodes over joel miller fucking in a pool btw :)

BRUH

so mad.

Found a Joel miller fic with like 8 something chapters and I had started reading the first chapter and I switched to a different app and my tumblr refreshed. This happens a lot and I tend to like the fic so that if it happens I can just go to my likes tab and find it again and so I did that but ITS NOT IN MY LIKES. Literally gonna jump off a fucking building I hate you tumblr.

If anyone knows this fic lmk, all I remember is that it’s as if reader and Joel are together when the outbreak starts and the first chapter starts with them in bed being all cute and having a little fun in bed. PLZ IM BEGGING.

Thank, author, you for this 🥵

MORE FREEUSE JOEL PLEAKSE

Bail (Free use)

850 words / Joel x f!Reader / master

CW: unsafe P in V, consensual somnophilia, consensual objectification, very light manhandling. Sleep anon. I8 mdni

Joel gets a call from Tommy in the middle of the night. Again. He’s pissed but tries not to wake you up as he goes to bail Tommy out. When Joel gets back, he’s tense and wound up and knows he won't be able to sleep for a while.

But you. You're resting peacefully, head on your pillow. Fast asleep, not a care on your pretty face. You turn over and sigh in your slumber, and Joel twitches with the knowledge that this beautiful creature is his. All his. And your body is all he needs to calm down.

He carefully undresses. He doesn't feel like talking and prefers to let his intrusion wake you up. By the time he’s nude, he's at full mast, hand wrapped around his swollen shaft, in desperate need of release. He pulls down the comforter leaving just the sheet on top of you.

"Cold," you mumble and curl up in a ball.

“Shhhhh. I’m comin’, baby.”

Joel slides into the bed behind you and you stir in your sleep. "What happened?" You murmur.

"Shhhhhh. It's okay." He'd really rather you not talk. You settle again with a little sigh.

You're curled up on your side. He slides his hand down your side and lets out an exasperated sigh when he reaches your panties.

"Why to bed," he mutters to himself.

He grabs a handful your ass, can't help himself, and takes your panties down. He yanks the bottom side of them out from under you and tugs them down almost to your knees to make room for himself.

He presses his warm chest against your back, then he uncurls your body. He aligns your legs with his so he can feel your soft, smooth skin against his lightly hairy legs. He gets frustrated with the panties, tugs them down past your knees, then uses his foot to push them off altogether and fixes your legs again. He reaches around and presses on your mound to tilt your hips for access, then he dips his middle finger into your pussy to see how wet you are. He gathers saliva and spits into his fingertips. That'll do until your body obliges. He wets his cock, nestles the tip at your entrance, then wraps his arm over you.

He holds you so your back is firmly against him for leverage, then sinks his stiff member into your tight little hole as far as it'll go. You sigh and the sweet sound makes him swell even harder. His forearm and elbow dig into your torso as he pushes further and you moan as he bottoms out, filling you up completely. You're probably waking up now, but mercifully, you don't squirm or say anything.

Your warmth wrapped around him sends a rush through his body. On another night, he might stay just like that. Have you keep his cock warm all night. But he has too much pent up tension.

His first few thrusts are slow, letting your wetness gather around his cock. And when it's slick enough, he picks up the intensity, ramming all the way into you every second or so with a grunt. He gropes your tits as he pounds you with all his pent up frustration. The force of his hips moves you up toward the headboard until he takes his hand from your breast and curls it around your shoulder instead, pulling you down on his cock as he pistons into you faster and harder.

-

Fully awake now, you silently extend your own hand to brace yourself on the headboard. You tilt your hips to help his angle and he breathes, "fuck, perfect" as he pummels you with his full length. He slows down the rhythm but adds even more power, slamming into you over and over, to the hilt each time. The intensity is startling but welcome. He's obviously fucking away some frustrations so he can sleep. It's not the first time and it won't be the last. You don't mind waking up to the stretch of his girth when he fucks you this good.

He holds you tight, cupping a breast. He breathes heavily, vocally, grunting, "Mm" each time your bodies are flush, or "Ah." The head of his cock nudges the right spot inside you and you twitch, then contract around him.

"Shit," he whispers. He's not done pounding his frustration into you, and he knows he won't be far behind when you come.

You try not to make a noise but a soft sigh spills out as you're riding your high. He grabs desperately at your breasts and gnaws wetly at the nape of your neck as he plunges into you hard and deep. Then groans as he bottoms out and pulses heavily inside you, spilling his seed in huge bursts. He sighs and his arm loosens around you.

After a couple of minutes, the rhythm of his breathing slows. As his dick softens inside you, his cum begins to trickle out. You slowly, carefully start to reach for a tissue, not wanting to disturb him. But his arm tightens before you can move an inch. He would let you move if you said something, but instead you stay put and relax into him.

"I love you, baby," he whispers sleepily into your hair.

"Love you, too."

Within minutes, he's snoring.

-

Use the #free use!Joel☠️ tag for previous stories with this Joel. For free use OF Joel look at my objectification HCs.

As always, thank you so much for your engagement! 🖤 I always notice and appreciate every comment and reblog even if I don't comment.

PLEASE CHECK YOUR CONTENT SETTINGS. Many of my posts seem to get flagged very quickly now even if they aren't explicit (like lincoln 1) so if you don't want to miss anything, you might want to follow me and check my profile regularly (filter to "my fics" from my header) or get on the joel tag list.

-

All joel: @ethanhoewke @silkiers @eiviea @evyiione @xdaddysprincessxx @queerly-anxious @chernayawidow @ambassadortotrilliusprime @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @jasminespringtime @romanarose  @fandomsfallnomore @djarinxore @lokanda @blackvelveteen1339   @manazo @wolvesandvampires  @taeslarityy @str84pedro @kyloispunk

IB level psychoanalysis essay on this right now.

An amorous moose asked:

I demand Prawn!Joel to make sex on Prawn!reader.

pairing - shrimp!joel x shrimp!f!reader summary - shrimp!joel makes sex on you. warnings - shrimp sex. breeding kink.

You are a shrimp, and you are in love. In love with your shrimp husband, Joel. There's love in the salty water tonight. The colorful aquarium rocks vibrating with something energetic, something passionate. Or maybe it’s the filter making noise.

Shrimp Joel gives you a look that has your shrimp pussy clenching. You shed your exoskeleton because shrimp sex only happens when you are soft and vulnerable. Shrimp Joel knows this. It is why he made you a romantic shrimp dinner and gave you a relaxing shrimp massage. For to shrimp sex.

You release pheromones into the water, and Shrimp Joel has an impressive shrimp boner. You face abdomen to abdomen, as shrimps in love are prone to do. To an outsider, it may not look like much. In fact, it may even look like you are fighting. You are not fighting. This is just what shrimp sex kind of looks like. Shrimp Joel uses his gonopods to transfer spermatophore into your thelycum. Neither of you moan, because you are shrimps and do not speak. No prolonged intimacy - you do not need that because you are shrimp. One quick pump is enough to satiate both of your shrimp libidos.

Your husband, Shrimp Joel, does his shrimp stuff on the other side of the tank. You, however, are not ready to use his shrimp sperm. This is normal for shrimp such as yourself. Only when you are ready to lay your eggs do you release them, allowing them to be fertilized by the stored shrimp sperm as they pass out of your shrimp body.

Goddddd sex with Joel would be a fucking DREAM!😩

Joel loves slow sensual sex with you. He loves worshiping your body, talking his time with you. you loved the way his big brown eyes looked down at you so lovingly with his pouty lips. His favorite thing is kissing you, your neck, your lips your favorite spots. You loved smelling his cologne the smell of woodsy pine, feeling of his big hands on your waist and his rough stubble of his beard on your cheek. He loved the way you would bite his lower lip, it drove him crazy. The first time he told you he loved you was in the middle of sex. He whimpered in your ear “I love you so much” right when you both hit your high, it was the most beautiful thing you ever heard

paying off the debt

joel x fem!plus size!reader x clint | wc: 1.6k

summary: when your husband doesn't pay his debt, the two men coming to collect decide on a different form of payment

WARNINGS: 18+ Only! Explicit. DDDNE. TW: non-con. Dub-con. Infidelity. Unprotected p in v. Oral (m & f receiving). Degradation. Slut shaming. Titty slapping. Nipple play. Dacryphilia. Anal fingering. Spanking. Creampie. Reader is plus sized and wears a silk nightgown, has female genitalia and breasts but is otherwise not described. A few mentions of another Pedro-char not shown. Never beta'd because this all happened so quickly, dear god. If I've missed anything please let me know!

a/n: this is my submission for the Magic Number Writing Challenge hosted by @mothandpidgeon , @schnarfer , and @whocaresstillthelouvre ❤️ I have wanted to write something for these Clint and Joel for the longest! And I hope I've done Clint justice, as it's my first time writing him. (He owns me, heart and soul.)

Shoutout to @milla-frenchy who is the Queen of Hot Threeways and who was my cheerleader for this little daydream-turned-writing project. You're the best, Milla!

dividers by @firefly-graphics 👑

JOEL MILLER MASTERLIST | FULL MASTERLIST

You'd only ever caught glimpses of Clint between a crack in the door or through the blinds when he'd come by to speak to your husband. A big, scary, intimidating man like him, rough-looking, though handsome, face decorated with scars.

And now he's between your legs, slurping away at your pussy while his buddy, another big, strong man referred to as Joel pins your arms over your head on the other side.

It was just after seven a.m. when they knocked and you, still in your white silk nightie from last night, answered it, still half-asleep, not thinking.

"We're here for payback, little lady," Clint had growled, hands on your hips as he pushed his way into your home, Joel at his heels. "Tried to talk some sense into your husband but it ain't takin'. Now we gotta show him we mean business."

Now you're sprawled on your bed, still unmade at the early hour, Clint's tongue plundering your cunt while Joel's big hands hold you down, thumb lightly stroking over your wrists, as if to soothe you, as if it's a romantic tryst you're engaging in.

Shocked into submission, you let it happen, too overwhelmed by his ravenous appetite to think about anything else. Clint swirls his tongue around your bud before teasing your folds, licking at the jucture between your thigh and torso, eyes lifting to watch your expression, to see you slightly struggling against being pinned down. He knows he's got you, and with his lips sealed around your needy clit, it's game over. He holds you down as your hips lift off the bed, still in control, keeping at it while you drench him.

"There now, see, that wasn't so bad," he murmurs, getting to his feet as he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. "Damn, you're so pretty when you come.."

"She is," Joel agrees in his gruff voice.

"I was just getting you ready for me. Trust me, little darlin', you can't handle me without getting ready first."

The moan that escapes your lips is absolutely sinful. His cock is a stretch to fit, even as wet as you are, your cunt takes time to elongate, housing him deep within your center. And though he doesn't give you time to adapt to his size, he does go slow and steady, your thighs bracketing his as he thrusts lazily, looking down at the way your silk nightie is pushed up over your generous hips. He tells Joel to push the top half down, and when he does they both paw greedily at your tits.

"Dave likes 'em thick, huh?" Clint growls with a punctuated thrust. "Round ass, big tits.. and tight pussy."

At the mention of your husband's name you whimper, teeth sinking into your bottom lip in shame. You shouldn't be enjoying what's being done to you. They're doing it for themselves, to send a message. But you're getting off on being their plaything.

"She's lovin' it." Joel's fondling you, pinching your nipples and giving them a few light slaps. That and Clint fucking you is starting to send you over the edge.

"Yeah she does," Clint says proudly. "She probably can't even come unless someone's holdin' her down." He nods at Joel to let go of your arms. You keep them there, flexing your hands as the circulation finds its way back to your wrists.

"She likes it!"

"Little slut."

Clint picks up the pace, spurred on by your neediness. Your hips find his rhythm and match it, drawing him in deeper. "That's right," he rasps. "Touch yourself. Lemme see you work that pretty little clit."

Your fingers desperately circle your nub, working yourself into a frenzy as he fucks into you, spreading you open on his fat cock. Above you, Joel leans down to suck your nipples. You lick your tongue along his cheek until he stops to kiss you, plundering your mouth with his tongue.

"She's fuckin' feral," Clint growls, shoving himself into you ruthlessly. "Keep that mouth of hers busy, Joel. She's about to explode soon."

Joel unzips his jeans, pulling out his thick length. Head to the side, your mouth waters at the sight of it, long, cut, girthier than Clint, with precum already beading the top. You don't have to be told twice to suck it. Your lips wrap around it as he holds the base, feeding it to you. Clint slows down marginally, watching you start to suck off his friend.

Joel thrusts shallowly, going deeper when you start moaning. "Gonna bruise the back of your throat, honey."

"That's right, gag her," Clint adds. "She wants it. She's fuckin' dyin' for it."

You're drooling around Joel's cock, his balls hitting your chin as you're moaning around him, incoherent, gluttonous, insensate.

"Fucked her stupid," Clint sneers. "Time to give her what she wants.." He's panting as he takes hold of your thighs, hoisting them around his hips and slamming into you, the lewd sounds of your colliding flesh the most obscene and perfect thing you've ever heard.

"Your husband know he married such a slut?" Clint continues to taunt, breath growing heavy as he nears the edge. "Gonna show him when he gets home.." His hips stutter before he spills deep inside you, and as you moan your throat constricts around Joel, who pulls out before he can blow his load into your mouth.

You're vaguely aware of them switching places, and then you're put on your hands and knees. You don't care; you're not in control. Your body is simply a funfair, a ride to go on, and it's a kind of freedom in just letting them do what they want. They're still taking care of you, Joel rubbing his length against your still-sensitive clit, sliding in between your folds and between your ass cheeks before he notches at your entrance. You're soaking wet with your fluids and Clint's jizz, making the way easier for Joel to slide in, an appreciative sigh leaving his lips. Your moan is muffled by Clint's semi-hard dick probing your lips, your tongue coming out to swirl around the crown.

"She's so good," he moans, running his fingers through your hair. "She's makin' it all up to us for her sorry-ass husband's debt."

"Gotta come around more often, pay her a little visit when Dave's out," Joel says with a sneer, his large hands digging into your hips as he thrusts home, bottoming out as your cunt squelches wantonly.

"Suckin' me so good," Clint moans again. "Get a taste of yourself on my dick, darlin'. I bet your husband doesn't give you his dick often enough, that's why you're beggin' for it from us, huh?"

You moan as his tip touches the back of your throat and you gag. "Eyes on me," he tells you. "Lemme see those pretty eyes waterin' while it's chokin' my dick."

He's bruising your throat, your mouth stuffed with him as you practice breathing through your nose. Meanwhile Joel's balls deep in your cunt, watching himself slide in and out with ease. His thumb traces the puckered outline of your asshole. "Your man ever take you here? He ever claim this tight little hole?" He spits on your hole and eases his thumb in just enough to make you squeeze around him. "I bet Dave's never even touched it. Probably never even asked, has he?"

"He asked you a question," Clint says sharply, squeezing your jaw in his hand. "You better answer him."

"No," you answer them, swallowing more air after Clint removes his cock from your mouth. He slaps your cheeks with it before feeding it to you again. "Good girl," he praises softly, something like kindness in his eyes as he palms your tits, kneading them softly.

"Poor thing's been so unfulfilled. Her pussy's only gotten wetter the more we talk about her like the piece of meat she is." Joel's hand lands with a hard smack on your ass and you yelp.

"It's the only thing she's good for," Clint agrees, holding your head still while he fucks your mouth. Your moans turn to an endless, tuneless hum as Joel speeds up, sensing you're close to coming for him. "Fuck, she's tight. She's damn near gonna drain me."

"Fill 'er up, Joel. Get it in there nice and deep so she'll be leaking both of us for days."

Joel's face contorts, brow furrowed, teeth bared as he gets close, and right as you come he pulses within you, shooting his cream into you.

"Turn her over," Clint barks, and Joel takes just a moment more to keep the feeling of your sweet snatch around him before pulling out. A little semen dribbles from you and he stuffs it back in as he moves you onto your back.

"Pretty little white nightie," he sneers. "Gonna give you somethin' else white to wear."

Your nightdress still hiked up over your thighs and pulled down showing off your breasts, Clint stands between your legs and strokes himself. With a few pleasured grunts he comes, painting your mound and belly. You're panting, trying to come down from the summit of the strongest orgasm of your life as they spread your legs, lift your knees up to view the damage.

"Jesus, this pussy's ruined."

"She's gaping."

"Keep our cum inside you, baby, as long as you can. Let your man watch it drip out when he comes home."

You're too fucked out to say anything as the men take their leave, staring up at the ceiling fan, slowly circling in the early summer heat.

"Dave's not gonna like that," you hear one of them mutter.

"Fuck Dave. He should've paid up."

taglist: @itwasntimethatdidit40 @tateypots @thedilfdiaries @sunshinehaze1

and anyone else who reads this, I love you so much ❤️

Hey!

Last updated 07/30/23.

So...my last post has been gaining me a few followers so I thought I'd make a post detailing specific characters that I'll write for.

I'll also copy and paste my past post about what I will and won't write at the end.

Also, anything I write will be X fem! Reader.

(I will be constantly updating this post as I become more comfortable with writing for more characters)

Marvel men

-Miguel O’Hara

-Marc Spector/the rest of the Moon Knight system

-Matt Murdock

-Frank Castle

-Peter Parker (all three)

-Steve Rogers

-Bucky Barnes

Marvel women

-Valkyrie

-Natasha Romanoff

-Wanda Maximoff

-Shuri (WIFE-sorry lemme calm down)

-Carol Danvers

-Darcy Lewis

Stranger Things (it's a short list cause most of the characters in the show are literally children :)

-Steve Harrington

-Eddie Munson

-Hopper (yup you read that right cause I love DILFS)

-Robin Buckley

Criminal Minds

-Every single one of them. (Nah I'm just playing)

-Spencer Reid

-Emily Prentiss

-Aaron Hotchner

-Jennifer Jareau

-Derek Morgan

-Luke Alvarez

Triple Frontier

-Every character except Ben Affleck's.

TVD (The Vampire Diaries)

-Damon Salvatore

-Stefan Salvatore

-Elijah Mikaelson

-Rebekah Mikaelson

-Klaus Mikaelson

Miscellaneous (characters from random fandoms/movies)

-Javier Peña (Narcos)

-Lloyd Hansen (Gray Man)

-Joel Miller (TLOU)

-Jake 'Hangman' Sersin (Top Gun: Maverick)

-Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw (Top Gun: Maverick)

-Sam Winchester (Supernatural)

-Dean Winchester (Supernatural)

-Castiel (Supernatural)

-Soldier Boy (The Boys)

-Lip Gallagher (Shameless)

-Carmen Berzatto (The Bear)

-Tommy Shelby (Peaky Blinders)

-Siobhan Roy (Succession)

-Bruce Wayne (Robert Pattinson or Christian Bale)

More to be added...

(Looking over this list I have arrived at the conclusion that I am a whore-)

In terms of what exactly I’m open to writing? I can write headcanons, blurbs, and one-shots. Specifically smut, angst, and fluff. The more descriptive you are in your requests, the easier it is for me to write them. But I don't mind the challenge of having to make my own plot.

Kinks/scenarios I’ll write smut for? Almost everything EXCEPT;

-inc3st

-r*pe

-Lactation kink

-pegging (into it in real life but I have no clue how to write it properly I'm sorry)

-Wax play (note I didn't say temperature play because I will write some stuff with Ice)

-Age play (specifically where a character is purposely behaving in a childlike manner/ baby talk. Daddy and Mommy kinks are welcomed tho!)

-CNC and noncon (I’ll definitely write some VERY MILD dubcon if asked tho)

-sexual activities with m1n0rs

-Domestic Vi0lence/ SexuaI abus3 (spanking is a yes tho)

-Scat & Piss

-Race play

-SEVERE knife kink (like I'll write a small knick or slice that barely bleeds or something but anything else is a no for me sorry)

-S3lf Harm/Su1cide (this is not to say that I feel any way towards people who struggle with these issues but I don't think I'm able to effectively represent them in my writing without triggering myself (as someone who has/is struggled with depression) and the last thing I want to do is offend anyone)

Anyways, that’s it for now! Like I said, feel free to make requests or even just send me a regular question or comment to get to know me! 

Welcome!

Since December has just begun and I finally started writing fanfics again, I decided to spread some holiday cheer and write my own Advent Calendar, starting on December 1 and ending on December 25 2024.

Due to my hyperfixation on TLOU for the past few weeks, I've prepared 25 fanfics centered around Joel Miller.

I hope you enjoy!

Masterlist

MDNI for certain days!

I do not know which warnings will be needed for individual fanfics so check each one just to be sure!

Days:

Day 1 - Frost (Explicit)

Day 2 - Card

Day 3 - Christmas Tree (Being edited)

Day 4 - Bells (Being edited)

Day 5 - Candle (Being edited)

Day 6 - Star (Being edited)

Day 7 - Fireplace (Being edited)

Day 8 - Gingerbread (Being edited)

Day 9 - Reindeer (Being edited)

Day 10 - Wreath (Being edited)

Day 11 - Mistletoe (Being edited)

Day 12 - Eggnog (Being edited)

Day 13 - Snowman (Being edited)

Day 14 - Bow (Being edited)

Day 15 - Hot Chocolate (Being edited)

Day 16 - Shopping (Being edited)

Day 17 - Stocking (Being edited)

Day 18 - Sweater (Being edited)

Day 19 - Wishlist (Being edited)

Day 20 - Gift (Being edited)

Day 21 - Manger (Being edited)

Day 22 - Ice Skating (Being edited)

Day 23 - Snowflake (Being edited)

Day 24 - Mittens (Being edited)

Day 25 - Carol (Being edited)

Disclaimer:

I do not own The Last Of Us or any of its characters. The Last Of Us is the property of Naughty Dog and Sony Interactive Entertainment. This fanfiction is written purely for entertainment purposes and is not intended for profit. Please support the original work!

Name || Advent Calendar 2024 - Day 1 - Frost

Pairing || Post-Outbreak!Joel Miller x F!Reader

Summary || As winter rolls around, it brings freezing weather in which Joel finds a way to warm you up

Word Count || 2.8k

Tags/Warnings || 18+, MDNI, Explicit Language, Smut, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff Hypothermia mentioned, P in V, Fingering, Unsafe Sex, Outdoor Sex, Established Relationship, Daddy Kink, No Use of Y/N, Age Difference, Size Kink, Creampie, No Beta We Die Like Men, Ellie doesn't exist, Joel is probably a bit OOC

English is not my first language

If you find any grammar or spelling mistakes, let me know so I can fix them

Masterlist

Advent Calendar 2024 Masterlist

The weather was getting colder and colder every single day. Warmer autumn days gave space to harsh winter storms, the nights getting darker. With darkness also came freeze. It was much easier to get sick nowadays and with the lack of medication at their disposal, how can you stay at peace?

On many occasions, you got sick. Both Joel and you, his travelling partner. Lucky for the two of you, it was mostly just a runny nose, sometimes even cough. Still, the thought lingered. What if one of you got severely sick? Hurt? Lost and hurt? There were so many things to worry about.

Joel was getting paranoid once November rolled around. For a good reason, too. After being raided not too long ago, you were left with barely anything to get by with. Food? You could hunt something down. Clothes? The ones you had had to suffice. Medicine? None. Weapons? Two guns and a knife would have to do. It was much harder to survive out there in winter after all, much less find supplies.

Not to mention the Infected. With 20 meters of snow underneath your feet, how could you possibly escape hordes of fungi-covered monsters when you were struggling even without them? They could hear much better as well. Cold air would make each snap of a twig travel so much further than it had when you escaped Boston QZ.

It scared you both. Scared him. Joel was afraid to lose you. He wouldn't handle it after so much death following him around. Especially since it was just a few months since Tess’s death. Even though he wouldn't say it out loud, her sacrifice hurt him more than he'd care to admit. She had been his friend, partner, friend, how could he just forget?

Well, he had you and he wouldn't give that up. He grumbled and complained at first but, now, after so much time, he couldn't find himself to say goodbye. He probably wouldn't do so even once you finally got to Tommy. You were too precious to him.

Another thing was the slowly blooming relationship between the two of you. You were both so used to being alone that just a sliver of attention got you hooked. He lost too many people and the thought of having someone by his side? A flickering wish, now burning bright thanks to your presence.

And you, you who grew up as a future FEDRA soldier. Being all alone in this world, knowing nothing but the cold walls of the school and training, it felt like a miracle to be free, with someone that cared without wanting nothing in return.

You worried too. Winter was quickly approaching and so was the cold. From how quickly nature started changing, you could already tell the coldest time of the year wouldn't go easy on you. It got even worse than you predicted though.

At first, it was just a bit cold. Then came the freezing. Snow was coming much sooner than expected and you were running out of the time to get supplies. You didn't have enough to go through the winter. Your sleeping bags were barely fit for such weather and so were the other clothes.

Joel searched through stores, homes now long abandoned and even vehicles for at least a piece of clothing that would keep you warm. He would like to stay warm as well but he would handle the cold if it meant you were safe and sound. However, it was as if the entire world had burned all winter clothes before the spread of the infection.

Having nothing to warm yourselves with other than the fire, Joel refused to let you be on your own at night. Every time the two of you went to sleep, he would lay down as close as possible, arms wrapped around each other. For body warmth, he'd say. Still, you sometimes felt his length poke your lower back; even if neither of you mentioned it.

In the middle of December, the cold got too much to bear. Even snuggling up to each other at night didn't help most of the time. It bothered Joel. Especially since he started noticing the signs of sickness in you. The lack of warmth and food and excess of stress weren't doing either of you any good. Especially you. You had always been more sensitive to the weather changes and he knew it.

On one of the harsher nights, as the two of you spent the night hidden in a cave somewhere far from civilization, he watched you with keen eyes. It worried him, your state. You were exhausted, stressed, hungry. Your eyes simply watched as he prepared dinner above a fire, barely blinking in fear the meat would disappear.

“You should rest,” Joel mumbled suddenly, eyeing your expression. His deep voice almost made you fall asleep right then but you knew he wouldn't want that. At least without eating dinner first. Even though he wanted you to rest, he didn't dare leave you unconscious without having his arms wrapped around you. It was too much of a risk in his opinion.

He wondered about either of you getting hypothermia too many times and immediately shrugged it off each one. How would he even handle that? Losing you to something like that? Considering their predicament, you both knew you wouldn't be able to save the other one in case something happened. It was mostly why you had been so careful up until then.

“I'm not tired,” you whispered back with a shrug, shifting in your spot a bit to get at least a tiny bit of warmth in. Your eyes closely followed Joel's much bigger hands as they poured the soup-like substance into a bowl before handing it to you. With a muttered ‘Thanks’, you dug into the food without hesitation.

“I'm just cold. But I suppose you already knew that,” you breathed out, the words leaving your trembling lips as a breath vapor. Joel watched as the steam travelled further up before becoming one and the same with the air, its temperatures dropping significantly in a matter of seconds.

With a silent nod, Joel settled for simply watching as you ate, his own dinner sitting abandoned in his lap. He couldn't care less about eating at the moment. Of course, he appreciated all the food you had at your disposal but on that particular night, his mind was elsewhere.

Despite struggling to survive, he couldn't help but think about how nice you looked, all cuddled up in your warmest clothes, your sleeping bag pooling in your lap. Of course you were cold despite having so many things to keep you warm, it was probably the most freezing night yet since winter started. But he didn't voice his thoughts. They would be practically pointless at the moment.

The silence stretched on even as you finished eating. The flame of the fire continued to burn, warming up the bare minimum of its surroundings. From what you felt, it wasn't practically there. Just like Joel's warmth pressing against your back underneath your sleeping bags, it seemed nonexistent compared to the frost coming from outside your hideout.

“Still cold?” whispered Joel, his breath hitting the nape of your neck like ember. It sent shivers down your spine, goosebumps spreading over your body in the way the Cordyceps spread underneath the world's surface.

You hummed in agreement, a soft exhale escaping through your nose before inhaling once more. The action made you huff, the icy air violently pinching your nose from the inside. Taking a deep breath, your lips quickly turned stiff, lacking warmth. You felt Joel grumble underneath his breath, his chest pressing further against your back. It didn't help much but it was something.

For what seemed like eternity in the eternal night filled with thousands of lights, you laid next to each other, trying your best to rest. It was proving more and more futile with every passing second.

Just then, a touch against your covered lower abdomen. It was so subtle, so gentle you barely noticed it. Next came a press against your clothes, the warm hand slipping downwards. Your breath hitched, hot air on your lips a stark contrast to your surroundings.

“This might help,” Joel's voice vibrated in your ear, warming it up for just a second. You heard as he thickly swallowed, almost embarrassed to be doing such things to you in the dead of the night. The unsure words spilled from his lips, almost afraid to voice them, “If you want to, of course.”

He let out a breath of relief at your quiet nod, the shame falling off of his mind now that you agreed to his proposal. His thick fingers slipped underneath the waistband of your ice cold jeans, settling down on top of your mound. He could feel the heat surrounding your body, much more faint than it usually was.

You breath hitched, entire body stilling as his fingers dug beneath your panties, gently caressing the pubic hair on top before running down, towards your entrance. You shivered in his grasp, too sensitive to his advances after such a long time without relieving all the stress from your body. Although he didn't properly touch you yet, you were already quivering.

You had missed his touch. It had been so long since he did so. It was too dangerous, too risky; and he refused to risk your health and wellbeing just to get laid. He had his priorities straight.

Your breath shook, a silent gasp on your lips, as his fingers dipped inside you. The familiar stretch felt delicious. So familiar yet still able to take your breath away. Especially once he hit that special mushy spot inside you. It made your head spin, stars dancing in front of your eyes from how good it felt.

You heard his heavy breathing right next to your ear as his fingers worked to bring you to climax. His hips softly rutted against your backside, desperate for some action as well. Joel was patient though.

Besides, he enjoyed preparing you. Seeing the delight in your expression, your entire body melting thanks to nothing but his hands and tongue. There was something utterly captivating about it; about knowing how easily he made you give yourself over to him and only him. He loved knowing you were completely his and only his.

“Ya like that sweetheart? You like how my fingers feel?” Joel hummed into your ear, a smirk grazing his lips as you nodded. You let out a moan, eyes closing blissfully, once his lips connected with the back of your neck. His teeth dug into the soft flesh, sucking the flesh in as he shifted in his spot. A part of his body pressed you against the ground, it being a comfortable weight against you.

“Y-Yes daddy,” you whispered, eyes falling shut as you arched your back. Squirming underneath him to get his fingers to that one spot which made you see stars, you whined. The knot in your stomach was getting tighter, almost painfully so.

Your actions and words made him chuckle, the sound vibrating from deep within his chest. In his opinion, you were adorable like that. So needy and desperate for him, a complete mess underneath him. He would love to keep going, to tease you and edge you until you were a soaking mess, begging for him to bring you to your high. However, Joel was pent up just as much as you were.

You whined as soon as his fingers left your tight wet heat, slipping out with a squelch. You were about to sit up to look at him, a bit too ready to beg for his attention. Before you could however, his hands pinned you down against the bottom of your sleeping bag. You felt his weight press against your back, his thighs on both of your sides. A bit of shuffling and his pants were pooling at his hips, just like yours.

You didn't have time to react before the head of his cock pressed against your entrance, nudging against it to get in and hide in your tight hole. It slipped into you quite easily, you leaking more than you had in a long time.

The penetration took air away from your lungs. His cock felt much bigger on the inside than it seemed on the outside after all. For a second, it was too much to bear. Even after so many times you had felt him inside, you needed a moment to adjust which he'd gladly give you.

“Fuuuuck…” he breathed out, head falling back. He loved the way you gripped him, milking him before he even started moving. The squeeze on his cock felt heavenly, your walls fluttering around his hardness in a way that made his cock twitch and breath hitch.

How you could feel this nice, he wasn't sure. It was as if you had been made for no-one but him, your body and soul intertwining with his own. It was at those moments of vulnerability, when he was deep inside, holding onto each other, eyes connected, that he felt closest to you. It was then that nothing else mattered. Nothing but you.

He bottomed out into you with one swift movement, settling in comfortably. He didn't move until you gave him a sign, allowing him to proceed. When he did, both of you let out a sigh of relief. You both needed that. Wanting to be even closer, he laid down on top of you, keeping some of his weight off of your body. His own body pressed you down, his chin resting on top of your head, his hips still pistoning in and out of you.

You moaned and quivered underneath his weight as he whispered praise into your ear. He told you everything he knew you liked to hear. How good of a girl you were. How nice you felt. How you were taking him like a champ, better than anyone he had had. How much he loved you.

He did. He did love you. More than anyone. Even though he didn't admit it nor mention it too much, it was true. More than you could possibly imagine. During those little moments of unfiltered passion, those were the ones when he told you over and over. It was almost as if you'd leave him forever if he didn't.

That thought had always lingered in the back of his mind. Would you leave him? You had every right to. He wouldn't even blame you. He was too old for you. Too rough, too broken by the world. He had seen too much to ever heal.

You on the other hand? You were an angel walking amongst mere mortals such as him. A perfect doll, unaware of the pain and suffering of the world. Of course, he knew you were of it but compared to him, you were innocent. A bit too innocent for such a life. And despite everything, you stayed kind and selfless. He didn't deserve you. He knew it.

However, looking down at you, he knew the truth. He wouldn't let you go. Not without a fight. You were his and no-one else's. He'd do everything he could to make you happy. To see your smile and the light in your eyes when you looked at him during dawn.

The connection between you was overwhelming, threatening to swallow you whole. Hands intertwined, you turned your head to meet his gaze. There was no crushing lust which made you jump into his lap. There was simply pure, unadulterated adoration and love that promised nothing but eternal devotion. Joel looked at you like you had hung the moon and stars themselves.

With a groan and a sigh, you both reached your peak, his seed coating your insides. You collapsed onto your sleeping bag, flushed and panting, as his softening cock slipped out of you. You barely registered what was happening even though you felt it so clearly. Joel gently cleaned you both up before fixing up the clothes around your body. Pulling you into his arms, his face hid in your hair.

“I love you,” Joel whispered, his breath hot against you. It warmed you, definitely more than before. He had been right, it actually helped. The body warmth you shared was more prominent, making the cold not as unbearable.

“Love you too,” you retorted, a tired smile on your lips. You were tired, sleep coming to you easier than it had in a few days. Yawning, your eyes fluttered closed. Joel's arms tightened around you, a heated blanket upon you. It lulled you into sleep after than either of you expected and, for once, you could actually ignore the frost surrounding you.

not gonna lie, i LOVE this<333

i recommend reading it SO damn much???

also that photo of joel made me think of this-

feelings are a lot of work

Joel Miller x f!reader

summary: Joel knows a way to help a girl through her heartbreak warnings: unconcensual groping; dirty talk; an age gap as thick as Joel's cock (20+ years decide for yourself); fingering; implied PinV and creampie wc: 800 a/n: my own submission for the 24 hour moodboard writing challenge! hope you enjoy, please leave a comment and reblog if you do

He smelled of beer when he invaded your personal space, planting a meaty paw on your skirt covered ass and boldly grabbing a handful. "Damn, sugar, you should wear something more modest in a place like this. Some drunk dipshit might think you’re offering more than you can handle."

By a 'place like this' he meant a bar on the outskirts of Texas in the middle of a heatwave. Looking around, you saw that your skirt and a white cotton t-shirt with a budweiser logo was amongst the most conservative outfits that women who were present wore.

"Some drunk dipshit already did," you gritted through your teeth, sinking your nails into his hand and trying to pry it off. You didn’t even need to turn your head to know exactly who it was. A tall, broad-as-the-horizon man who had been watching you all evening. His mostly gray beard and the deep lines etched into his face by time suggested he had already celebrated his fiftieth birthday, maybe even a while ago. That made him more than twice your age. That also made him hot by your standards.

When you had walked into the bar a couple of hours earlier, you barely noticed the quiet observer. But as your fight with your now ex-boyfriend escalated, your gaze had shifted from Malcolm’s infuriated face to the corner of the tiny establishment, where the older man sat, cluttering his table with a growing collection of Coors cans. He lingered after Malcolm stormed out, watching you drown your heartbreak in obligatory tequila. And when he decided you’d had enough, he abandoned his post in favor of approaching you.

You had been on the brink of punching the smug smile off his face when you turned around, refusing to let him squeeze the plush curve of your ass any longer. "Name’s Joel," he said, his voice deep and unapologetic. "And whoever that fucker was that left you? I promise he’s worth less than a donkey’s ass."You didn’t know if it was the alcohol, his words, or Joel’s staggering confidence that you wouldn’t scream for help or kick him in the balls, but when you met his whiskey-brown eyes up close, a shiver ran down your spine, stopping right where your cunt pulsed along with your rising heartbeat. His gaze dropped to where your thin white shirt betrayed you, letting him see your hardened nipples that begged for his attention. Taking it as an invitation, Joel caged you against the bar, his arms bracketing your body and making you feel small. The salty tang of his sweat mixed with pine-scented deodorant invaded your lungs as unceremoniously as the rest of him.

"Who the fuck do you think you are?" you demanded, narrowing your eyes, trying and failing to stay unbothered by the sharp cut of his jaw and the curve of his lips.Joel leaned in slowly. His teal polo strained over a big stomach that pressed into you, trapping you in place. Then you felt it—a significant bulge poking insistently against your lower belly. His stubbled cheek scratched yours as he murmured in your ear. "I’m someone who’ll help you forget why you’ve been salting your tequila with tears for the last hour. I can’t promise you feelings—that’s too much work for an old guy like me—but I can promise you a hell of a good time. At least for as long as my cock’s buried in your belly."

The words were outrageous, filthy, and the most forward thing anyone had ever said to you. They were also the words that had you whining in his arms, pathetically begging for release.

He didn’t even take you home. The second you climbed into his battered red pickup that looked older than its owner, his rough hands were on you again. And Joel didn’t lie. When his fingers pushed your panties to the side and slid into your drooling entrance, any thoughts you had of Malcolm, heartbreak, or anything beyond the dizzying burn of Joel’s touch vanished. Unbothered by the people outside, you moaned like a well-paid slut, writing on his thick digits that were scissoring your cunt. Watching two of his fingers slide inside you with ease, he hummed in approval and added a third.

"Have you ever even had a cock up this tight little cunt, darlin’?" He muttered, his wet tongue gathering the sweat off your neck before he sank his teeth into the tender skin. "Snatch so tight, I’m startin’ to think I’m about to deflower ya."

You moaned in response, and Joel chuckled darkly. "Thought I’d fuck the heartbreak outta you, not your whole damn vocabulary."

His fingers curled inside you, petting your sensitive walls relentlessly and coaxing a pathetic whimper from your lips as he pressed his palm into your swollen clit. Every movement of his hand gave you the stimulation that merged pain with pleasure, bringing you closer and closer to the edge. You threw your head back, hitting the seat with a dull thud as you came. Wetness gushed over his hand, he didn’t stop until you were crying from overstimulation, your trembling hands pushing weakly at his wrist.

"Now," he drawled, low and hypnotic, settling back in the driver’s seat and unbuckling his leather belt, "climb over here, darlin’. I’m far from being done with you."

By the time Joel finished fucking his third load into your used pussy, you couldn’t remember the reason you were heartbroken in the first place. Later, curled against his chest in your bed, you decided to save a few tears for the morning—just so he’d have another reason to make you forget.

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Do not be afraid to request anyone from the current open form of media of the Fandom!

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I do not own The Last Of Us or any of its characters. The Last Of Us is the property of Naughty Dog and Sony Interactive Entertainment. This fanfiction is written purely for entertainment purposes and is not intended for profit. Please support the original work!

i n t r o d u c t i o n .

minors and ageless blogs do not interact with me please

I'm 20, use she/they and i just post my unholy thoughts about the biggest babygirls i can find.

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☆Kinktober 2024 Masterlist☆

Day 1: Somnophilia - Damien Haas

Day 2: Thigh riding - Din Djarin

Day 3: Breeding - Joel Miller

Day 4: Exhibitionism - Cooper Howard/The Ghoul

Day 5: Restraints - Cooper Howard/The Ghoul

Day 6: Orgasm denial - Damien Haas

Day 7: Dacryphilia - Cooper Howard/The Ghoul

Day 8: Marking - Joel Miller

Day 9: Size kink - Din Djarin

Day 10: Period sex - Cooper Howard/The Ghoul

Day 11: Blindfold - Joel Miller

Day 12: Mutual masturbation - Damien Haas

Day 13: Gun play - Joel Miller

Day 14: Knife play - Cooper Howard/The Ghoul

Day 15: Anal - Din Djarin

Day 16: Mirror sex - Damien Haas

Day 17: Face sitting - Joel Miller

Day 18: Impact play - Cooper Howard/The Ghoul

Day 19: Sex tape - Joel Miller

Day 20: Shower sex - Din Djarin

Day 21: Choking/gagging - Cooper Howard/The Ghoul

Day 22: Jealous sex - Din Djarin

Day 23: Shibari -Damien Haas

☆Like my work? Buy me a ko-fi :)☆

how do you feel about boot riding 🤭

────۶ৎ boot ridin’

joel lets you grind on his boot and watches you fall apart. slow, dirty, and all him.

warnings: smut, boot riding, clothed grinding, degradation (light), praise kink, dom!joel.

more

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you plant yourself right there on his thigh, all needy and breathless, the heel of his boot solid under you. he's leaning back, forearm draped over the back of the worn-out couch, one brow cocked and that smirk playing on his lips like he already knows you’re about to fall apart just from grindin’ on him.

“boot ridin’, huh?” he drawls, voice all low and amused. “s’that what you’re callin’ it now, darlin’? looked more like beggin’ t’me.”

you whimper, rockin’ slow, the rough leather pressin’ right where you need it most. your panties are soaked, stickin’ to you, and you can feel every goddamn ridge of his boot sole with every shift of your hips.

he watches, hungry. doesn’t touch—not yet. just watches, one hand curled into a fist against his thigh like he’s holdin’ back.

“yeah, that’s it. make a mess on me, baby. all over my boot. fuckin’ filthy girl.”

you bite your lip, grind down harder, faster now, chasin’ that sharp edge that’s burnin’ hot in your belly. he leans in, finally, fingers curling around your throat—not tight, just enough to feel him there, firm and grounding.

“feel good?” he murmurs, eyes flickin’ down between your thighs. “can feel that little cunt twitchin’. know you wanna cum.”

you nod, mouth open but no words, just pantin’ like he’s got you on a leash. his thumb brushes your jaw, rough and calloused.

“go on. cum for me, sugar. make it count. wanna see that pretty pussy flood my boot, ruin it.”

and fuck—you do. it hits like lightning, rippin’ through you as your thighs shake and you moan his name, louder than you meant to. he groans low, like he felt it too, and finally lets his hand slide up between your legs, fingers strokin’ through the mess you made.

“jesus,” he mutters, voice gone gravel. “you ride better’n a goddamn cowboy.”

ᖭ༏ᖫ

thank you for reading. reblogs & feedback appreciated.

warm enough ⋆₊˚ ࿔⋆

pre-canon qz!joel miller x fem!reader | masterlist |

1.7k words | joel miller before ellie so he’s distant but not too bad, fwb to lovers, kissing, unprotected piv sex. — still trying to cope with his death:,((

summary- in the Boston QZ, survival comes first—but when you’re sharing smokes, running jobs, and ending up in each other’s beds more often than not, lines blur fast. Joel’s older, guarded, and dead set on keeping it casual. She’s younger yeah, but tired of pretending it’s nothing. It’s not love. Not exactly. But it’s warm.

And sometimes, that’s enough.

It wasn’t supposed to happen again.

It never does.

But somehow you’d ended up tangled in his sheets anyway, your knees brushing his under the thin blanket, the air between your bodies too warm, too full. It was always like this—frenzied, wordless, fleeting. A way to survive the way the world pressed down on your chest like a loaded weapon.

But this time was different.

You hadn’t woken up alone.

Joel Miller, the man who never stayed, was still there.

You stirred first. Sunlight cut through the cracks in the boarded-up window, slicing across his bare shoulder. You studied the soft line of his jaw, the way his brows stayed furrowed even in sleep. Like he couldn’t let go of whatever ghosts lived behind his eyes, even when unconscious.

You turned over, pulling the blanket up. Hoping maybe he’d shift and mumble something. Maybe you’d pretend it didn’t feel real. But then—

Footsteps. The bed dipped. Joel sat up and rubbed a hand down his face.

He didn’t look at you.

Instead, he stood, tugged on his shirt, and wandered into the kitchen—if it could be called that. A hot plate. A kettle. Cans lined up like trophies. You listened to him move, the scrape of the metal lid opening, the glug of water.

And then… coffee.

You blinked.

Joel never made coffee after. Hell, he never let you stay long enough to see what he did after.

When he came back in, he was holding two chipped mugs. He didn’t meet your eyes as he handed you one. “Still hot,” he muttered.

You sat up, blinking at him like he’d handed you a map out of this place. “You made two.”

“Yeah.”

Silence.

You cupped the mug in both hands, let the heat seep into your fingers. It smelled like burned grounds and survival. But something about it settled your heart a little.

Joel sat back on the edge of the bed, hunched forward, watching the floor like it had something to say.

You broke the quiet. “Feels kinda normal, huh?”

His shoulders tensed.

He didn’t answer for a long beat. Then:

“Don’t get used to it.”

His voice had been soft, but it cut through the quiet like a blade. Not sharp enough to draw blood—just enough to remind you where the lines were.

You didn’t say anything. Just wrapped your hands tighter around the chipped mug and took a slow sip. Bitter. Burned. Warm.

He stood across from you, back against the wall, arms crossed over his chest like he was bracing for something.

Maybe your silence.

Maybe the truth.

You glanced at him over the rim of your cup. His gaze was fixed on the space behind you—somewhere over your shoulder, like if he looked you in the eye he might not be able to keep the mask on.

So you tried to keep it simple. “It was good coffee.”

That earned you a flicker of something—wryness, maybe. A tiny twitch of his mouth. “Tastes like shit.”

“Yeah,” you agreed, “but it’s warm.”

Another long silence passed between you. But it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was… full. Like both of you were waiting for something else to rise to the surface.

You caught yourself wishing the moment would stretch out a little longer. That he’d lean back against the counter like he belonged there. That he’d ask you to stay—not just to kill time until the next run, but because he wanted you there.

But Joel didn’t ask for things.

And you didn’t know how to ask either.

So you drained the rest of your coffee, set the mug down gently on the counter, and stepped back toward the door. Your boots scuffed against the worn floorboards.

“I should go,” you said, quiet.

Joel nodded. Still not looking at you.

Your fingers brushed the doorknob, cool metal under your skin. You hesitated.

“Thanks for… letting me stay.”

He didn’t say anything at first. Then, just as your hand started to turn the knob—

“Didn’t mind it.”

The words came out like they surprised him too. You turned halfway, your heart catching.

Joel’s eyes met yours, and for once, he didn’t look away.

“Didn’t mind you bein’ here,” he said again, slower this time. Like maybe it wasn’t such a bad thing to admit.

You smiled, small and warm. “Okay.”

Then you opened the door and left.

But your chest felt lighter.

A Few Days Later

The next few days are back to normal.

At least, mostly.

You go on a few jobs—runners, small deliveries. Joel doesn’t say much, but he sticks close. Always just behind your shoulder, scanning rooftops, watching your back like it’s second nature.

You try not to read into it.

But every time your eyes meet across a crowded alley, or in the back room of Tess’s hideout, there’s a flicker. A pause.

Like maybe something changed that morning, and neither of you knows what to do with it.

You hadn’t meant to end up there again.

You told yourself it was just muscle memory—your boots turning corners like they knew the way. That the pull in your chest wasn’t about him. That the ache wasn’t for him.

But the lights were out in your building. Your neighbor was crying again. And your bed was too cold, too quiet.

So you stood outside Joel’s door for almost a full minute, heart knocking against your ribs, before you lifted your hand.

You didn’t even knock.

He opened it before you could.

Joel stood there in a threadbare shirt and jeans, barefoot, with sleep-soft eyes and stubble smudged along his jaw. His brows furrowed, but not with surprise.

Like he’d been waiting.

A sixth sense.

“You alright?” he asked.

You nodded. “I didn’t wanna be alone.”

That was all you had to say.

He stepped aside.

Inside, the room was warm—barely. The radiator hissed. You shrugged off your jacket while he watched from the other side of the room, arms crossed loosely over his chest.

Joel always looked tense. Even now, under the soft glow of the table lamp, he stood like someone expecting a fight.

Or a confession.

You took a slow step toward him. “You ever get tired of pretending this doesn’t mean anything?”

He didn’t move.

“‘Cause I do,” you whispered.

Joel’s eyes searched yours. There was something rough and unreadable in his face, like he was trying to swallow back something too big for words.

“I don’t know what to call it,” he admitted, voice low, thick. “I don’t even know what it is. But when you knock, I open the door. Every time.”

Your throat tightened.

“I keep tellin’ myself I ain’t got room for this. For you. But you show up and I—” He dragged a hand through his hair. “I want you here. That’s the truth.”

The breath you didn’t realize you were holding finally left your lungs.

You stepped closer. Close enough to see the flicker of hesitation behind his eyes, the war he was fighting with himself.

“But you’re scared,” you said softly.

Joel’s jaw flexed. “Damn right I am.”

You reached up, fingers brushing the edge of his jaw. “Then let me show you something good for once.”

And that broke him.

He kissed you like he needed it to stay alive.

Not hurried or rough like before—this was slow, devouring, like he was afraid you might vanish if he let go too soon. His hands cradled your face, rough thumbs grazing your cheekbones like he was trying to memorize you.

You slid your hands under his shirt, fingertips dragging over warm skin, the curve of old scars and hard muscle. Joel groaned into your mouth, deep and low, and pulled you closer by the hips.

“You drive me fuckin’ crazy,” he murmured against your lips. “Always walkin’ around like you don’t know what you do to me.”

You smiled into the kiss. “I know exactly what I do to you.”

He huffed a breath—half a laugh, half a growl—and walked you backward until the backs of your knees hit the bed.

“Lie down,” he said, voice gone dark and soft and commanding.

You obeyed, heart racing.

Joel stripped his shirt off, slow and deliberate, like he wanted you to watch. Then he knelt over you, kissing a trail down your neck, your chest, your stomach—taking his time, learning every inch of you like it was something sacred.

“Y’know how many nights I think about this?” he murmured against your skin. “Think about you.”

You arched under his touch, eyes fluttering. “Then why don’t you let it be more?”

His hands stilled for a second. Just long enough for you to feel the weight of the question.

Then he leaned up, kissed you again—softer this time. Sadder.

“I’m tryin’,” he whispered. “I don’t know how, but I’m tryin’.”

When he finally sank into you, it wasn’t frantic or desperate. It was slow, intense, real. His forehead rested against yours, breath hot against your lips as your bodies moved in rhythm, like this wasn’t something you stole—it was something you built.

Joel didn’t hide from it.

He kissed your knuckles when he held your hands above your head. He murmured your name like a promise. He stayed.

When you both fell apart together, it was quiet.

No words. Just warmth.

He didn’t let you go.

Later

You rested against his chest, legs tangled under the blanket, heartbeat slowly finding its way back to calm.

His hand moved gently along your arm, over and over, like he didn’t want to stop touching you even if he didn’t know what to say.

You turned your face up toward his.

“What now?”

Joel exhaled, thumb tracing the inside of your wrist.

“Now we sleep,” he said, voice husky.

“And tomorrow?”

There was a beat.

Then he kissed your forehead.

“Tomorrow, there’s coffee.”

yeah yeah im feeding yall ik

ᝰ

the fire was low, but the glow of it painted the walls with a soft orange flicker. the house was quiet, save for the soft scrape of metal on wood and the occasional pop from the fireplace. joel sat at the table, glasses halfway down his nose, sleeves pushed up, and a small block of wood cradled in his calloused hands. his knife scraped slow, methodical strokes along the curve of what looked like the beginnings of a fox, delicate ears just forming, the snout notched into shape. he looked like he belonged there. not just in the room, but in the moment. hands busy, mouth set, the steady rhythm of his work filling the silence like he needed it more than rest.

you hovered in the doorway for a moment. there was something magnetic about watching him when he didn’t know you were, how quiet he became, how precise. you couldn’t explain it, but something in you twisted a little when you saw him like this. it didn’t help that your brain was already a little fried from the day. you’d been restless all afternoon, bouncing between tasks around town, trying to distract yourself with anything that wasn't the thought of his hands. now you were back. and the ache was worse. he didn’t look up when you stepped in, but you could tell by the subtle shift in his shoulders that he knew you were there.

“you’ve been out there awhile,” he said, voice low and even, not pausing in his carving.

“wasn’t that long,” you murmured, stepping closer. “you eat anything?”

joel snorted softly. “ate somethin’ earlier. left some stew if you’re hungry.”

you walked around him, slow and quiet, letting your fingertips brush the edge of the table. you watched him work a little longer, the careful drag of his knife, the tension in his forearm, the way his brow furrowed when he focused. his glasses slid further down, and he huffed, pushing them back with the side of his wrist.

“i’m not really hungry,” you said, voice lower now.

he hummed in acknowledgment, not looking up.

you stepped between him and the table, gently nudging one of his knees open with yours. that finally earned you a glance. a small, knowing one.

“what’re you doin’?” he asked, not irritated, just suspicious.

you didn’t answer. you just moved closer and lowered yourself into his lap, straddling his thigh like it was muscle memory.

joel made a small sound in his throat. “jesus,” he muttered, setting the carving knife down with care but not taking his hands off you. “you’re gonna make me slice my damn thumb open one of these days, sneakin’ up on me like that.”

“you looked busy,” you said softly, your arms sliding around his shoulders. “didn’t wanna interrupt the great artist at work.”

he shook his head, his hands found your hips, grounding you, holding you still, but not pushing you away.

he muttered something you couldn't make out, setting the knife down with more care than necessary. “that what we’re doin’ now?”

“you’re not gonna make me beg, are you?” you said, your voice low as you slid your hands up the front of his shirt, thumbs brushing the space just under his collarbones. “been wound up all day.”

joel leaned back slightly to look at you over the top of his glasses. his eyes dragged over your face, then lower—assessing. thinking. his hands landed heavy on your hips, grounding.

he exhaled, slow and controlled, like he was weighing his options. like he was pretending you didn’t already have him wrapped around your finger.

“you’re actin’ real needy tonight,” he said, voice dropping a little lower. his hands were still on your hips, thumbs idly brushing the hem of your shirt like he was debating whether to tug you closer or keep you there and burn slow.

“been thinking about you all day,” you admitted, quiet against his skin. “you didn’t even notice how pretty you looked this morning. all frown and flannel and your fuckin hands…”

“mm,” he rumbled, mouth twitching. “that what’s got you worked up?”

you didn’t answer. you just shifted slightly in his lap, pressing down a little harder on his thigh, watching the way his jaw tightened when you did.

joel’s hands flexed, gripping your waist a little firmer now. “you come in here sittin’ on my leg like that,” he said lowly, eyes flicking to your mouth, “and you expect me to finish my carvin’?”

“i expected you to tell me how bad you missed me while i was gone,” you teased.

his brows lifted. “i see you every day.”

you leaned in closer. “doesn’t mean you don’t miss me.”

joel leaned back, gave you that quiet, unreadable look.

his hands slid down to the backs of your thighs, squeezing once before he pulled you closer, flush against him. the fox on the table forgotten, the knife untouched. his mouth brushed your cheek, soft and rough.

but you had him here, grounded. his hands, his warmth, the slow way he let himself have you.

“you done carving?” you whispered.

joel nodded slowly, almost like he didn’t trust himself to speak.

“good,” you whispered, brushing your nose against his. “’cause i need you worse than that fox does.” his glasses were crooked. you reached up and pulled them off, setting them aside. his eyes were darker now, heavier.

ᝰ

a/n: i wrote this at like 1am after watching the s2 premiere so it's ass but seeing him in those glasses... meow...

GOD DAYUM😵 UGH

• THOUGHT YOU DIDN'T CARE •

pairing: joel miller x (18+, she/her) reader

summary: joel and ellie are tasked to move a package from jackson to san diego. little did they know you were the "cargo..."

warnings: 18+ content, mdni, adult language, cordycep apocalypse related violence & weapons, canon divergence, tlou part 1 & 2 spoilers; angst, medium to slow burn, pet names, voyuerism, sub!joel and dom!reader, age gap in pairing, masturbation, etc.

word count: ~6.3k

support your writer: reblogs for daddy joel ✨🌿

request: by @yourmomsmilfmistress; katrina babes, i have another idea!!! i was thinking something along the lines of (whatever male character you want/ im not picky) is OBSESSED with reader and one day after a torturous hangout he starts to 🍆💦 ( ya know) after she leaves and for some reason it's not working and it's like he's just edging himself but (of course) reader comes and walks in on it and it's like sub!male and dom!reader smut!!!

note: um… most definitely. the way i thought of joel freaking miller instantly. sub male? common now 😈 we are set in a post-tlou part 2 world where no one died, abby who?, and ellie lives happily on the farm (aka 20+ age). also, loosely following the plot of part 1. for visuals of characters, i am moving forward with what we’ve seen so far of hbo’s part one and game’s part two casting. although as it’s older ellie, i went with video game looks. hopefully that makes sense. enjoy my fellow hoes ⚡️

Don't tell them your name. Just tell them you're there to see Maria.

His words keep running through your head as you gallop atop your trusted steed, Horse. He told you, repeatedly, that they will find you - not the other way around. All you needed to do was get to the vicinity of Jackson County. Well, you are about a mile into said county and you haven't come across a single person. Let alone, a single runner.

The two things cannot co-exist this far from the cities. If there are no runners or clickers, then there must be people. If there are infected, there are no people. But emptiness? That is something unheard of. It puts you on edge. You swear you want to just yell, yell to draw something out. But that would be stupid. You don't know how many are out here ... people or infected.

You hop over a razor wired fence in the middle of the road. Its height hits a the top of your knee. Perfect stop runners. Your first sign that people have been in this neck of the woods. The deeper you get into Jackson County, you wonder why all you need to say is "I'm here to see Maria." Would these people attack you and saying those words would be the only thing to stop them? Or are they dumb enough to bring just about anyone back into their town? You have absolutely no clue what he has signed you up for.

Fear stands your hairs on end. It fuels your adrenaline and heart as Horse guides you into an opened field. On the main road, you read a sign that displays "surface may be icy." You're thankful you were assigned this job in the middle of July. In front of you, you note green ivory glued to the brick walls of an old music store. The roads were shit, as usual. Cracks and bumps from overgrowth and lack of maintenance. You hope they are not too rough on Horse's shoes. She had them switched out in Colorado, back when you saw your people last.

Horse abruptly stops. Harsh enough for your full body to push up against her back. "Fuck," you grumble with a hand to your head. "What the hell?" You slowly open your eyes to note the clicker before you. With widening eyes, you swiftly reach to unhook your knife from the saddle. As quiet as a mouse, you hop off of the pillion and carefully land your feet on the grass below. You side step as you make your way closer. its clicks grow louder as it uses its echolocation in the opposite direction.

Your eyes are constantly moving, wondering if there are any other infected around. There is luckily no movement. Just one single clicker. The fungi sporadically growing throughout its body. The cordyceps on full display on its face - if you can even call it a face. In your last two steps, you rush up to it. You hook your arm over its chest. Your fingers curve over its shoulder as you grip tightly against the rough flesh. With your other hand, you stab your knife into the crook of its neck. It quickly became limp in your arms. You let slide off your body and ultimately onto the road.

"Drop the knife," you hear behind you. The voice is rough and booming. You gradually put your hands up. You drop the knife, careful to have it fall upon its hilt and not its blade. "On your knees," it bellows. You laugh, tilting your head to the side. "No can do," you scoff. "I only get on my knees when I want to." The man behind you laughs as he slowly walks up to you. His boots crunching against the dirt and gravel.

"On your knees," another voice appears. Despite its higher tone, it is just as rough. A smile grows upon your face as you carefully drop to your knees. "Oh for you, of course," you mutter to the woman. She quickly grabs hold of your wrist and places it behind your back. Her grip harsh and tight. You release a laugh as you lean back into your captor. "I'm here for Maria," you mutter.

Abruptly, the movements behind you stop. The grasp remains tight. "Maria?" the exasperated man's voice pushes through the air. His boots' steps become faster as he rushes behind you. "Why?" the woman asks. You feel the cool head of a gun at the back of your neck. "Hey, hey, hey," you furiously mumble. "I-I'm a smuggler. I'm with a group of people who told me Maria owes them one. I just got sent here for her to pay the debt."

The gun is pressed harder against your neck. "What debt?" the man's voice asks. You move your head to the side, attempting to pull yourself away from the gun's focused point. The gun holder makes sure it stays against your skin despite your movements. "I don't even know, man. I was just sent here. They told me to say 'I'm here for Maria' and that she would know what to do," you spit out.

You hear the man pace behind you. He sighs heavily. His voice hushed as he speaks towards the woman. "I don't feel good about this, El," he whispers. "Does she have any people in her past?" the woman asks. "Not that I know of," he says as those steps draw closer once more. You are suddenly pushed to the ground. You cut up your chin as you couldn't catch yourself in time. "Fuck," you mutter into the ground. "Your name," he mumbles. "I don't have time for games." You yell as your palms lay flat against the surface. "Rita," you quickly lie.

"Alright, Rita," the man's voice bustles behind you. "Let's go." Next thing you knew, a bag was pulled over your head. Your head was then banged against the hard rubber bedding of a truck.

They grip against the bag over your head so hard that it pulls on some of your hair as it uncovers your face. Your eyes slowly blink to adjust to the light. "Shit," you grumble as you relax your arms, only to realize that you were tied to a chair. Rope. Fuck, you think. Rope hurts the most.

"Now, Rita, I'm not going to ask again. Why are you here for Maria?" The familiar voice asks. You squint to look in his direction. A latino man with slicked black hair crouches before you. You look behind him to recognize that you were in a stable - a wooden stable. There is hay all over the floor, but no horses. What kind of stable doesn't have horses? As your eyes trail back towards your feet, you note red splotches staining the wooden floor below you. "Damn it," you whisper the elongated swear under your breath. You know exactly what kind of place this is.

"I told you already, man," you whine. "My people didn't tell me shit. Just that I was assigned a job and Maria owed a ride." You look into the brown eyes staring holes into your face. "I'm here to collect on that ride," you whisper. "To where?" the man asks. "I'll tell Maria ... once I get my ride," you answer with a smirk. The man raises his fist as his upper lip tenses. You wince at the sight.

“Tommy!” You recognize the woman’s voice as he holds back his fist. She walks out from the darkness of one of the stables. You smile at the sight. She looks younger than you. Her reddish brown hair gave you goosebumps. Her eyes a greenish blueish grey. Something you would have envied as a child. She some how looks sweet, but also has clearly endured so much in her short time.

“So, we have Tommy,” you share as you nod towards the man. “And El,” you murmur as you look up to her. You smile - a smile that El winces at. “I’m not here to cause trouble,” you sigh as you attempt to shrug against the chair. “I don’t want to give anyone grief. I just need to talk to-” Suddenly, a remarkable woman bursts through the doors. Another man at her side. Her eyes serious and hellbent. Her skin a deep and beautiful brown. She is undeniably gorgeous, and surprisingly pregnant. She definitely had the glow, complete with her large firmed bump. “Tommy, what the hell is this?” she asks sternly.

Maria, you think. They never gave you a picture, but you knew from the second she commanded that room. The second both Tommy and El backed away from you. Their hands either up or open at their sides. She was in charge. And she was headed right for you. “Maria,” you say with a sing songy voice. Her head shoots your way. “I need a ride.”

Maria stares down at your smile. Her upper lip pulls, just like Tommy’s. “Where?” she asks calmly. “San Diego,” you answer. “San Diego?” she scoffs. “I don’t owe them that much.” You tilt your head, smiling to yourself. “Well, someone thinks you do,” you smirk. Tommy grunts as he steps towards you. Maria quickly puts out an arm across his chest.

With a sigh, she returns her gaze to you. Her arm still across his chest. You are curious about those two. “I obviously can’t take you myself,” she mutters. “Obviously,” you affirm as you nod towards her stomach. “I’ll find you someone. You’ll leave in the morning,” she says carelessly. She turns around and speaks to her people. “Untie her,” she says under her breath.

The man who walked in with her quickly follows through with her demand. You rub your wrists and forearms where the rope’s red rings pressed into your skin. You stand with the devil’s smile across your face. El is the first to walk up to you, while Tommy’s eyes are still daggers. “Hey, sorry,” she says as she rubs the back of her neck. “Things didn’t go so well the last time a new person asked about one of our people.” You hum as you nod. “Make sense,” you say under your breath as you return your gaze to Tommy.

“Maria’s his wife,” El adds as she follows your eyes. “He’s been extra sensitive, given the baby and all.” You smile at her words. She pulls your attention. “It’s also Ellie by the way,” she mumbles. She gestures goodbye and walks out. “Rita?” the man asks. You look at him with confusion. “My name’s Jesse. Come on, follow me.” With hesitation, you follow the tall man out into the dark night.

Your eyes quickly fall upon the string lights crossing from building to building. It is so beautiful your mouth gapes open. “We have a small bed and breakfast for travelers,” he shares as he points to a building at the end of the street. “Shit - a bed and breakfast?” you scoff under your breath. As you walk, you note the happy and clean people randomly walking about. They are loud - comfortably loud. It must be nice.

“Where you from?” Jesse asks. His gaze stuck on you. “I don’t do small talk,” you say with a weak smile. “I don’t mean to be rude.” He laughs, raising his hands. “No, I get it. Just trying to make conversation,” he answers. “Oh, well if we’re making conversation, tell me what your favorite color is,” you teasingly laugh. He chuckles, shooting you a sweet smile. “Orange,” he scoffs. “You?” You nod, smiling as you step onto the front deck of this apparent bed and breakfast. “Green.”

With quick goodbyes, you go inside and easily secure your room. The room is on the first floor. Inside the small space, you have a worn down desk, chair, and bed. Your pack is already resting against the foot of the bed frame. You grab the back of the chair and hook it underneath the door’s knob. You turn the lock and deadbolt the door. When you finally lay back to rest, you reflect on your day. It didn’t go as well as you had hoped - as you had been told. But at least you are alive. At least you are on your way to San Diego.

After the best sleep of your life, Jesse led you to a building across the way. Maria, Tommy, Ellie, Jesse, another woman and a man sit alongside a long dinner table. The woman appears sweet. She sits closely to Ellie. The man is something else. His demeanor laid back, like he had no care in the world. His face kind, but also worn thin after years of this shit world. You can immediately see through the facade and know he is good. But damn does he give off such a strong guard dog vibe. He has random patches of grey amongst his black hair and beard. His eyes dark, but youthful. You struggle to keep your eyes off of him. He watches you, though. He sized you up as soon as you walked through the door.

“Rita,” Maria calls out. You are too busy attempting to watch him through your eye lashes. “Rita,” she says louder. You quickly turn your attention to her. Only now remembering that Rita was the name you gave them. “Yes,” you answer with high energy. “These are my best people,” she shares. “I want Joel and Ellie on this.” Ellie sits up straight, shocked as she exchanges looks with the girl beside her. The two begin to discuss in hushed tones. The man abruptly turns towards Maria, disingenuously laughing under his breath. “No, Maria,” he scoffs. “That ain’t happening.” The man stands, his hands firm against the table. He must be Joel. Rarely have you met someone who’s name perfectly fits them. It makes you smile.

Maria sighs as though she saw this coming. “I would go myself-” she starts. “So let me go,” Tommy interjects. Joel and Maria quickly respond “no” in unison. Maria takes a breath as she slowly looks to her partner. “I’m about to pop. You can’t go,” she whispers. “I need you.” Tommy solemnly nods as he looks back towards the rest of the group. Maria turns back to Ellie with patient eyes. “Ellie, Dina - are y’all okay with this?” she asks. Dina nods, looking at Ellie. "J.J. will be fine. You should go," she whispers. Ellie then turns to Maria and nods.

Joel's scoff could be heard from two buildings down. "This is bullshit, Maria and you know it," he yells as he slams his hand against the table. Tommy stands, pointing towards him. "Watch it, Joel," he warns through gritted teeth. Maria takes a breath as she looks between Ellie and Joel. "You two have gone across state lines more times than any of us. This should be easy as pie," she says softly. He rolls his eyes as a deep, unenthused chuckle falls from his lips. "What's the cargo?" he asks with furrowed brows as he looks off in the distance.

Maria turns towards you. She rakes over you with slight confusion and hesitation. Within a second, there was a moment where her face smoothed out. She took a breath and returned to Joel. "She is," she states with finality. Your face remains looking down the table, but your eyes travel to Joel's seat. He gradually turns to look at the group. With a guttural growl, he says, "Absolutely not." Maria throws her hands up. "Joel, they will come to collect. I will not put anyone else's life in danger," she yells.

"If they come to collect, they can take her dead body," Joel booms as he pulls a gun from his holster and points it towards your head. You remain still. Your breathing intensified as the remainder of the group stands to their feet. "Joel," Maria says softly. "We need her - whether you like it or not. We need her in San Diego." Joel exhales through his flared nostrils. His mouth tight as he looks down at you through the sights of his pistol.

"What's so important about her?" he asks as he lowers the gun. Maria sighs in relief. "I don't know," she shakes her head. "All I know is these people helped us in a pinch back when me and dad started up. They said they'd come to collect and all they needed was a team to get something to San Diego." Tommy watches her intently. It must have been the first time she shared this with him. "I've seen what these people have done when groups don't pay up, Joel," she mutters. "We will not win that fight without losing everything."

Joel sucks his tongue against the back of his teeth. He holsters his gun and walks towards the front door. He hooks a backpack over his shoulder and turns back towards the group. "Ellie?" he asks as he slowly opens the door. You turn to watch Ellie kiss Dina. She presses her head against hers and whispers things you cannot make out. They separate with a strong embrace. Ellie walks towards Joel. "You coming, Rita?" she calls out behind her. You stand immediately. Your shocked eyes fall upon Maria and Tommy as you attempt to process everything that has happened in the past few minutes. You grab your pack and walk out to meet the pair in the street.

Ellie watches Joel with trust and a hint of distaste. You wonder about their story. As you walk up, the two stop talking and turn to look at you. "Hello," you greet awkwardly. "While we're out there, you do exactly what I say - when I say. Understand?" Joel says sternly as he points a finger in your face. How could those sweet eyes simultaneously look so threatening? "Understood," you whisper under your breath as you exchange looks with Ellie.

Joel quickly turns and heads straight to what looks like a mechanic's garage. "Does he always have a stick up his ass?" you ask as you skip to catch up with Ellie. She smiles, nervously biting her lip. "At first," she mutters under her breath as her eyes remain on him. "The Chevy," he asks a man standing behind the desk. He promptly hands him keys without question. You nod, noting how nice it must be to live in Jackson.

"Chevy, huh?" you say, attempting to start a conversation with the man. Joel completely ignores you as he slides the keys into the door handle. "Nice try, but he's not going to crack for a while," Ellie whispers in your ear as she walks to the other side of the truck. You laugh as you open the side door and hop into the backseat. "Seatbelt," he says softly as he points Ellie's way. "Oh," she mutters as she slides it over her body and clips it at her side.

The three of you sat in silence for the first hour of the trip. It was unbearably boring. Wyoming's sights were not as incredible outside of Jackson county. You wish you could sleep, but did not trust the two enough to even try. "Joel," Ellie starts but continues to laugh. "Remember when we cleared this hotel. Remember the tomatoes?" She laughs so hard that she holds her stomach. She leans fully against the passenger seat as she kicks her feet up. You swear you watch Joel crack a smile as he watches the girl burst into a laughing fit. You wish you got a better look.

"What happened with the tomatoes?" you curiously ask Ellie. She turns, struggling to speak between laughs. As she starts, Joel quickly interrupts her. "Don't tell her anything. She's cargo, nothing more," he instructs. Ellie sinks into her chair. Her expression perplexed as she seemed excited to share. "Just cargo, huh?" you taunt. His face remains still as he eyes focus on the road. "Wow, you Jackson people are the sweetest I've ever met," you say sarcastically. "Maybe I should just dip out on this trip. I can probably make it on my own."

Joel quickly slams against the breaks. Your shoulder digs into the back of his seat as you let out a stunned groan. "What the hell?!" you yell. "We are taking you to San Diego, or we are taking your body," he turns to say with stern eyes. You place distance between you two. A sudden rush of alertness and danger bursting through your body. "Let me be clear. I don't care if you're dead or alive by the end of this trip. We are paying off Maria's debt," he seethes. "I'd recommend shutting up if you plan to get there alive."

You suck your tongue against your cheek as you laugh under your breath. You lean back harshly against the back of your seat. "Eyes on the road, asshole," you say as you nonchalantly gesture towards the street. He rolls his eyes as he faces forward behind the wheel. He presses on the gas gradually. Ellie sits in awkward silent with a tight lip. She finds comfort in looking out the window.

Less than a week has gone by and you are barely crossing the border into Utah. In each passing day, you learn something new about Ellie. She loves to draw. She met her partner, Dina, on the first day she got to Jackson. Her son is named after Jesse and Joel. She calls him her "potato" - an incredible nickname you find endearing. The days are starting to blend together, but Ellie remains a highlight of each.

Joel, on the other hand, has remained annoyingly silent. He solely speaks to Ellie. If he does choose to talk to you, it is usually some demand where he forgot how to say "please." He is abundantly cold. It is infuriating. Here and there, you catch him staring your way. His glimpses seem familiar, as opposed to his usual and intentional looks of anger.

He never looks at your eyes, but his gaze tends to fall on your lips and hair. Any time you caught his eye line, he would immediately look away. The way his gaze lingered on you always left you in a ball of confusion. You thought you would have been on edge, being stared at for hours on end. Yet, you loved it. It made you feel seen. It made you feel beautiful. If he wasn't so vocal about his disapproval, you would think he had a "thing" for you. For now, you just enjoy his looks - hoping they are filled with adoration and not hatred.

Luckily for the three of you, communication was not needed as much when taking out the infected. The trio even came across a group of clickers a day ago. Without saying a word, the three put on their gas masks and stepped into the spores. They could all hear the clicking echoing through the old and damaged walls. With only nods and looks, the three separated and silently took down each clicker.

You turned to look at them with excitement. “That was awesome!” you said joyously. “Very SWAT-team.” Ellie was kind enough to crack a smile as she cleaned her blade on the side of her jeans. You turned to Joel, waiting for any reaction. He gave you absolutely nothing. He shook off the blood on his machete and gracefully placed it back onto his backpack. He then immediately moved toward the cabinets in front of him to search for supplies. God, did he really not have a sense of humor?

Tonight, you find yourself resting beside Ellie in a closed off room. The day was once again filled with ambiguous look exchanges with Joel. Your body aches from taking out runners. You wonder if you'll be in pain for the entire trip. The room rests at the end of a long hallway with no other entrances or exits. The only doorway to the outside was located at the end of the hallway and was guarded by the one, Joel Miller. You continued to wrestle with sleep as you lay uncomfortably in your sleeping bag. You have now spent hours staring at the plant infested ceiling. Ellie, luckily, rests peacefully at your side. She felt safe enough to put earbuds in to help her sleep. Another thing of hers to be jealous of.

After a few hours, you decide that it will most likely be impossible for you to sleep tonight. You quietly stand and put your pajama shorts over your undies. You open the door into the hallway. It's long corridor was scarier at night. You pull your flashlight from your pocket. Clicking it on, you remind yourself that the only door is at the very front. You would undeniably see if anyone entered the dark hallway with you.

As you reach the end of the hall, you begin to hear quiet moans coming from the other side of the door. Your mind quickly rushes to the thought of a runner making their way inside. But once you hear slight heavy breathing and groans, you immediately recognize that the sounds were coming from Joel. Excitement bursts through your chest as you press your ear against the door. You could not have imagined a better sound escaping his lips. His groans sound so sweet, so supple. You wish you could be the reason they fall from his lips.

You nervously turn back to see that the door at the other end of the lengthy hallway remained close. There was no way anyone would be able to hear at the other end. Not unless they were right where you were standing. With a smile, you hear his breathing louden. You wish you could see him. See his brows pulling together as his mouth hangs open. You wish you could watch him stroking himself. You would bet on your life that his cock was large and girthy. You have been stealing glances of it beneath his tight jeans.

Your mouth starts to water as you hear his moans grow louder. It takes all your strength and will not to burst through the doorway and beg him to let you help. God, would you absolutely beg for that man - without question. You wonder who's on his mind. Who could possibly be the lucky person whom he is wanking off to? Your legs feel weak. You actually contemplate sitting down and playing with yourself alongside his intoxicating moans.

“Oh, Rita,” you hear fall from his mumbling lips. Your entire body lights up with pleasure. He is thinking about you… Your legs buckle beneath you as you struggle to stay standing. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you hear escape his lips. He must be close. You swear you can hear the slapping against his skin. All your blood rushes towards your clit. You want him - bad.

Out of no where, Joel stops. You hear a sound of frustration but remain curious. Was he edging himself? Shit. Why is that even hotter? you think to yourself. His moans slowly start again. Your mouth hangs open as you tighten your knees together. The friction feels good but it’s definitely not enough. You wish you could touch him. You wish he would be muttering your name as your hand strokes his dick. You wish his big hands could hold your head down as you take all of him in your mouth.

Almost as though you two were connected, Joel’s moans started to repeat more and more. His breathing heavies as your knees tighten harsher and harsher against themselves. Your clit now pulsating, desperate for stimulation. You cover your mouth, hoping your own gasping breaths were not loud enough to hear in the other room.

His voice strains as he gets closer and closer. He mumbles again, “Yes, Rita.” Shit, why aren’t you already in there? Your entire body is on fire but, oh, so nervous. You hear his skin slapping against each other. His moans growing louder. You hear a bump against the wall. His voice begins to break. God, he’s so fucking close.

“Oh baby just like that,” Joel whines. “Cum for me,” you whisper on repeat. Then silence fills the air. You worry if he might have heard you. You’re sure that him catching you listening in is so much worse than you catching him jacking off. “Damn it,” he yells softly with a grunt. That’s when you realize he isn’t edging on purpose. It seems like he can’t get past that final push. To release all that pent up energy.

You could help him. You know you want to. It’s the right thing to do. He must be in so much pain - all swollen down there, thinking about you. You would be helping him. You are so selfless. With a deep breath for courage, you quickly knock and open the door.

You spot Joel in his jean shirt. His legs are spread wide while he sits, bare, on the couch. His pants wrapped around his ankles as he holds his lengthy cock in one hand. His head rests back onto his other. As he hears the door creak open, he nervously grabs hold of a pillow and covers himself. You have never once seen shock and worry on the man’s face until now.

“Shit,” he yells as he scrambles to cover himself. You play dumb, covering your gaping mouth with your hand. “I’m so sorry Joel,” you whisper. “I-I thought I heard my name so I came out here,” you slyly taunt as you end with a smirk. Joel’s usual annoyed face returns as he realizes you know the truth. “Why didn’t you just come get me?” you ask innocently as you sit on the arm rest of his couch.

Joel watches you in confusion as he recognizes your advances. “I shouldn’t have done this, I’m-” he starts. You swiftly interrupt, “No need for apologies. I’m just confused is all.” You gracefully fall beside him. Your bare thigh touching his. The tips of your fingers dance atop his thigh. His grip onto the pillow covering his unit grows tighter by the second. “I thought you didn’t care about me,” you whisper as you lean closer to his face. You are now still, a few inches from his face.

"We don't have to do this," Joel mutters. His teeth locked as he watches you. He must think he's in danger. No, its quite the opposite. "Do what, Joel?" you ask as you pull away from him. You note a chair across from him. His backpack is sprawled over it. You carefully carry the backpack and place it closer to him. To show him that you are not something to be scared of. You then turn to sit in the chair. Your legs spread open as you bite your lip. Your eyes rake over the vulnerable man in front of you.

Joel watches you. He takes in shaky breaths. It is almost as though he is more nervous, now that he understands your intent. "Don't stop on my accord," you say as you gesture towards him. You slowly cross your leg over the other, batting him off with your eye lashes. You gently laugh as you watch him sit still, uncomfortable. "Oh, I get it," you murmur with a nod. "You need help." You watch your shoulder as you slowly push your spaghetti strap off it. You do the same with the other side. When you look back at him, a smirk is shown across your face.

His eyes are darker than normal. He still holds the pillow firmly against the skin between his legs. "Don't stop, Miller," you whisper as you slowly pull your shirt up. You expose your breasts to the cool air. Your nipples immediately harden. He involuntarily bites his lip as his eyes grow full of wonder. With that, he gradually pulls the cover off and shows his enormous cock. You start salivating. Fuck, you knew it would be big.

Joel's thumb starts to move slowly up and down his shaft. His eyes now fully on you. No pulling away this time. Pleasure fills your chest as you raise your chin and open your mouth. You lick your lips, hell-bent on tasting him. He starts to smile between soft moans. His rubbing becoming quicker as your hands calmly travel up your stomach and to your tits.

His breathing shakes harder as your fingers circle your nipples. Your tongue resting gently against your bottom lip. He loves it. His moans become louder as he watches you. "Oh baby," escapes his lips as he watches your sensual movements. "The name's y/n," you whisper. You smile at the shock spreading across his face. "I want to make sure you're moaning the right girl's name this time."

"Your name's y/n," Joel mutters under his breath. His movements stop as he watches you gradually open your legs. Your shorts clearly expose your inner thighs. It shows enough to give him the slightest sneak peek. "And your name is Joel," you coo. “Does that change anything?” He scoffs. A smile spreads across his face. First time you’ve seen it and shit is it beautiful. “Not a single thing,” he mutters. “Then rub one out for me, daddy,” you whisper as your hand travels down your stomach and atop your shorts.

Joel presses his tongue against his cheek as his smile grows larger. His hand starts to rub against his hardened cock. His fingers wrapped around his girth. You bite your lip. You wish it was your hand, but you are not giving up control. “Yeah, start slow,” you murmur as you adjust in your seat. His eyes track you. His eye line at your lips, waiting for the words to just flow out.

His breathing intensifies as he drops his jaw in excitement. “Ooo, just like that,” you whisper as you try to maintain deep breaths. Your clit begins to pulsate. Begging you to jump atop of him. “What next, y/n?” he asks with a gaping mouth. He fully enunciates your name with a smirk at the end. You laugh as your brows bounce. “Hm,” you think aloud. Your finger tapping against your chin. “Have your other hand play with your balls.”

Joel’s brow raises as he’s slightly taken aback. “Don’t make me say it twice,” you playfully seethe through your teeth. He sighs with a smile as his other hand moves from atop his thigh. He cups his balls slowly. A thumb rubbing between them. You suck in a deep breath as you adjust again in your sit. You can’t get comfortable. Your body screams that the only seat you want is on his lap.

His lower jaw keeps moving as deep breaths fall from his lips. “Shit,” he breathes. His eyes close ever so slightly. “Mmm’such a good boy,” you whisper. “Let me hear you.” He gasps as the muscles in his legs begin to tighten. He lets out a low moan. One so deep your entire body shakes. You let out a hesitant breath as your hand covers your mouth. You are trying so hard to keep in control, to be the dominant one - but shit did you want him to wreck your pussy so badly.

“I know you can moan louder than that,” you murmur with a grin. Joel softly laughs and quickens his movements. His breath is fast. His eyes closed. He sits up straighter. His hand slaps against his skin. You spot precum falling from his tip. “Shit,” you mumble under your breath. His head starts to fall back. It rests against the wall. He moves faster and faster. You squeeze your thighs together, holding your breath.

“Fuck, baby,” he whines. You could just about faint. “God, you’re going to make me cum, y/n.” You dig your nails into your thighs. You want nothing more than to see this gorgeous man cum all over himself. “Cum for me, Joel,” you whisper in excitement. Your entire body feels on fire. Goosebumps travel throughout your skin. “I want your big cock deep inside me, Joel. Please cum for me,” you gripe in an innocent voice.

“Oh, fuck,” Joel moans as his brows pull together. He squeezes his eyes shut tighter than before. You hear his voice raise in pitch. Higher and higher as his body moves faster and faster. You note him thrusting into his own hand. He looks so strong. He would feel so good thrusting inside of you. Finally, his breathing fastens and he starts to moan louder than before.

“I’m cumming. I’m cumming, y/n,” he whisper yells as his body tenses up. You immediately rush in front of him. You sit on your knees as you watch the show, up close and personal. Beads of cum stream down his elongated cock as he strokes firmly. You place much effort in keeping your hands to your sides. You watch as his breaths begin to slow.

“Fuck, Joel,” you say breathless. His eyes start to open. He lets out a gentle laugh through his smiling face. You crawl between his legs. His smile quickly falling as he curiously watches you. There you sit, his softened unit before you. “Your turn to help me, Miller,” you say as you bite your lips. His smile re-emerges as his hand pushes your shoulder back towards the ground. His body slides over you until his face hovers above yours. “Yes, ma’am,” Joel whispers as he plants a kiss on your lips so hard, yet so soft, that you completely fall head over heels for the man.

note: whatcha think? joel screams sub and fuck do i love it. also episode 3?? can someone just cry with me about that real quick? shall there be a part two? 🤫

*edit: there shall be & here it is

taglist: @fan-fiction-floozy, @dirtydianaahah

reblogs are much appreciated! feel free to comment or message if you’d like to join a tag list! 🌿✨🌿

• nav • no-no plagiarism • one shot • requests open •

𝘧𝘢𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘧𝘶𝘭 || joel miller x reader

𝘴𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺 || joel wasn't looking for a follower, or a protégé, or an employee— whatever you're supposed to be— when he saved some dumbass kid from a couple runners. but he ended up with you anyways, and you swore to always be faithful to him... in every way.

𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵 || 9.2k

𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 || smut (18+ only; oral f receiving, unprotected sex, very slight dacryphilia kinda?, a touch of degradation and dumbification in there, and virginity loss with some pain and one mention of blood), heavy age gap (not specified but the reader is absolutely an adult), insecure crybaby reader, unrequited love/pining, reader wants to fuck joel so bad it makes her look stupid (and we love that for her cause same), angst, tess getting kinda screwed over but only because it's absolutely necessary for the plot, emotionally repressed joel, mention of reader's parents being deceased (implied to be infected)

this fic does not contain spoilers for anything but minor details from episode one!

They were doing that thing again— where they talked in front of you, as if you weren’t there.

“So we make the run tonight,” Tess decided, standing while Joel sat on the worn-out sofa with his hands clasped and his elbows resting on his knees.  “We should be back by four, that’s when the FEDRA boys have their shift change, so we can avoid too much risk of getting caught.”

“What should I do?” you piped up.  They both looked at you with that oh yeah, she’s here glare and Tess sighed; she didn’t try very hard to hide her frustration with you, but at the same time, she was actually nice to you when she was in a good mood (which was rare).  Joel was less mean but also less nice— he stayed steady in his neutral-to-mildly-irritated state, and you figured if he wanted you to fuck off, he would’ve said so (probably in those exact words, too).

At the same time, they both instructed you flatly: “Keep watch.”

You sighed, shoulders sinking.  “Again?  Can’t I at least—?”

“You’re safer here,” Joel insisted.

“Yeah, and your gun is safer in the box under the bed, but it’s not gonna do shit to protect you if you never take it out,” you countered.

Tess scoffed.  “And what are you gonna do to protect us?”

“I wasn’t,” you admitted.  “You know I’m a great shot, but I wasn’t gonna try to shoot anybody.  I’m quieter than both of you.  I can get in and out better— and nobody’s looking for me.  Everybody knows you’re smuggling—”

“Not everybody,” Joel defended himself in a mumble.

“ — so if I do get caught, I can probably get out of a search,” you bargained.

“And what are you gonna do to get out of a search?” Tess smirked.  “Bat your eyelashes?”

That did sting, but you rolled your eyes and hoped you had effectively looked like it didn’t affect you at all.  “If implying that I’m pretty enough to get out of a search is supposed to be an insult, I can’t wait to hear one of your compliments, Tess,” you replied— but your voice was soft and almost shaky, not as confident as the comeback merited.  That summarized you pretty well: you had the will to be tough, but when it was time to really go for it, your body failed you and your hands got shaky and your eyes watered.  Almost anything could make you cry, Tess had already made fun of you for it; Joel just seemed to get really uncomfortable when you started crying, but you always did your best to hide it from him.  It just didn’t usually work.

Your whole face probably lit up when you caught Joel’s suppressed smile— did he think your joke was funny?  He hadn’t been smiling when Tess made fun of you, so it had to be what you said— or maybe he was thinking of something he would say if he cared enough to say it, some comment about how you could do more than that to get out of being searched.  He didn’t seem the type to make comments like that, but he was well aware what guards might let (or make) a girl do to avoid punishment.

“Whatever,” Tess decided, shaking her head, “you’re not coming with us, that’s the point.”

“Joel gets a say, too!” you blurted out.  “You can’t just pick for him that I’m not coming, he has to—”

“You’ll stay here,” he interrupted.  So much for getting Joel to let you go— you thought maybe he would side with you, for once.  Deflating, you nodded, and they stopped paying attention to you at the same time that you stopped paying attention to them.

Your mind wandered in times like this, when they were talking and it was clear that it didn’t concern you; Tess said once that you had an ‘overactive imagination’, but she hadn’t said it in a really mean way (like she said most things).  You didn’t want Joel to think that you were always daydreaming, but you couldn’t help it sometimes— you really just hoped that he didn’t know he was the subject of so many of your thoughts.

Truth was, he’d caught your eye long before he even knew you existed.  You’d seen him around, doing all those odd jobs he did to make ends meet, and thought he was… well, handsome, but not just that.  Mysterious.  Intimidating, though he didn’t exactly intimidate you— okay, he did, but not like he did everybody else.  He intimidated others because they were afraid he would hurt them; he intimidated you because you kind of wanted him to hurt you.  Not, you know, bad, just… maybe a hand around the neck or pinning you to a wall or something?

It wasn’t in spite of your inexperience that you had thoughts like that— it was because of it; you had been lonely for a long, long time, and maybe it was just fantasy, but you always wanted someone like Joel.  You wanted someone to take care of you, protect you.  You were just guessing that he was capable of that, but he proved it when you met for the first time.

It wasn’t exactly a meet-cute, or even just a pleasant way to meet; you were short on rations, because you’d given most of yours away to Mrs. Davis who was too old and weak now to earn any extra for herself, and someone offered to pay you ten if you snuck something they could sell out of the old mall in the QZ… well, that went about as poorly as anyone would’ve expected.

You asked Joel what he was doing there, after he’d saved you from the runners, but he refused to tell you.  Either way, it was the best luck you ever had that he showed up and fought them off.  For a moment, he’d held you close to him as he pulled you away from the Infected; you wished, later, that you hadn’t been too terrified to appreciate that.

Ever since, you’d sworn yourself to him— in more ways than one, but he only knew about the main one: you wanted to assist him however you could, figuring after he saved your life that you should dedicate it to his service.  Well, Joel had never been interested in your assistance, or anything else about you.  It was actually Tess' idea to let you stay: "if she wants to help, let her do it for free," she whispered to Joel, and he shrugged, and he did.  That was how it ended up like this: you were the squeaky, wobbly third wheel of Joel and Tess’ operation, more often than not doing the least important work if not filling your time with essentially goose-chase tasks they invented to keep you occupied.  Keep watch and listen to the radio were your biggest assignments; just wait here was another common one, when they were too lazy to call it one of the other two.

Tess left a little while later, and Joel laid down on the sofa.  You broke away from your thoughts and tried to make yourself useful— you got up to rinse the dishes, humming a random tune to yourself as you worked.  You were already back inside your head, wondering if you should tell Joel it was a song you’d heard on his radio and had stuck in your head ever since.  Probably not worth it; it usually didn’t go well when you tried to talk about things like that.  Joel and Tess talked about before a lot— well, it wasn't that often, because it wasn't very productive to talk about it.  But they talked about it occasionally and you never had anything to say.  Once, you tried to weigh in: they were reminiscing on concerts before the outbreak, bands and artists they remembered, and you chirped about how "I read about that in a book once!"

They both glared at you, and you didn't say anything else.  But you didn’t take it too personally, they just didn’t want to feel old— but you didn’t think either of them were old!  These days, old wasn’t a matter of years, it was really just about usefulness— like poor Mrs. Davis, she was old, she couldn’t do much for herself anymore— and they were both… actually, they were both significantly more useful than you.  That made you sad.  But at least Joel had helped you get better with guns— not that he ever let you carry one. 

“I didn’t ask you to do that,” Joel broke the silence as you washed his favorite mug.

“I know,” you said back, voice light and chipper.  “You don’t have to.”

You felt his eyes linger on you for a moment after that, but he didn’t say anything else.

~

Though they had decided already that you weren’t joining them on the run, you ended up there— mostly by happenstance— when Joel and Tess met with the buyer who wanted half of what they managed to bring back.  Not many people in the QZ could afford that kind of contraband, so it made sense that it was one of the FEDRA soldier’s bankrolling this.  They were by no means rich, but they had a lot of pull and could provide all sorts of ration cards and promises to look the other way if future issues arose.  He couldn’t guarantee safe movement out and back in through the boundaries of the city, but he at least promised to look the other way in any future run-ins with the law.

“So that’s it: you’ll leave at eleven, you’re back by four, and you bring me my share the next day during my break?” the soldier confirmed.

“Yep,” Tess agreed.  “Quick and painless.  Hopefully.”

You didn’t expect the man’s eyes to land on you, but you didn’t particularly care for it.  "Is your little lap dog coming, too?" he smirked, glancing at Joel after he was finished raking his stare over you.

Your face got hot instantly, with shame and confusion.  "I— I'm not in his lap," you denied, "that's not— we don't—"

“No,” Joel interrupted firmly, “she’s not coming.”

There was an awkward silence, the place where he might’ve said and she’s not my lap dog, if he cared much about the accusation.  Tess seemed to be hanging onto that silence nearly as tightly as you were.

“Whatever,” the soldier finally brought everyone’s attention back to the conversation, “just meet me here tomorrow at half past one, and we’ll see what you’ve got.”

You were still thinking about that conversation that night— while you were keeping watch, like Joel had asked you to.  It was really boring; you spent most of the time on the couch, reading a book you’d bought off someone for a few rations.  After a while, your curiosity got the better of you, and you started snooping around Joel’s apartment.  There wasn’t much to look at… he didn’t own much, just a few shirts— actually, you thought those jeans he always wore might be his only pair…

Your search led you to his bed.  Even with no one here to see you do it, you were a little embarrassed to lean in and take a whiff of his pillow— but it was totally worth it.  It smelled just like him, that warm piney kind of scent he had; in times like this, not many people could afford to smell nice, but Joel could.  Not to say that he was the type to splurge on all the nicest stuff, you were pretty sure he didn’t even own cologne, but he owned shampoo and deodorant, so that put him in the 80th percentile for hygiene in the Boston QZ.

But it wasn’t just those products you smelled on his sheets— there was something quintessentially Joel to it all, something impossible to define but incredibly addictive.  It was instinctual, the way you got in his bed and curled up in those sheets, burying yourself in the comfort of him.  It was so easy to imagine how he might hold you, now that you were here— all you were missing was his strength, his weight, slow and steady breaths behind you as he drifted to sleep…

You woke up when you heard the door shut.  Startled into sitting up, you were hoping you’d have time to get out of his bed before he saw you— but he was already standing there, staring at you.  He was just a shape in the dark, so you couldn’t see his face, but you heard the exasperated sigh.

“I thought I told you to sleep on the couch,” he said.

“R-right, sorry,” you coughed, recalling last time this happened with a pained wince.

“Better yet, I thought I told you to keep watch!”

“You know you just say that,” you mumbled, “so you can keep me away from the real work.”

He didn’t say anything, probably because he knew you were right— but even if he’d wanted to, he couldn’t, because Tess walked in a second later.  “Can’t believe he tried to stiff us,” she was saying as she walked in, half-laughing in frustration.  “Well, yeah I can,” she added a second later.

Her attitude changed when she saw you in the bed.  “I— I’ll go back to my—” you started, but you ended up just getting up and leaving in a hurry before you could really finish your thought.

Wiping a small tear from under your eye quickly, you walked out of Joel’s apartment and started for your own bunk across the city— even though it was more likely than not that somebody would hassle you for walking around during curfew.

Yes, if you had a little more self-respect, you would just stop hanging around those two and find some other work to do, but Joel had done something for you that you could never repay and never forget.  He didn’t have to love you the way you loved him— and you’d been sure for a while that he never would— but couldn’t he at least be a little nicer?  You wouldn’t feel right being anywhere but at his side, no matter how much he made it seem like he never wanted you there at all.

~

Honestly, you did consider not going back the next morning— but you figured they might actually need you for the next part.  Okay, not need, but they could at least use you for something: after smuggling anything in, you need a fence, someone to pawn this stuff off.  Joel and Tess did a decent job of keeping a low profile, but it was even easier to do so when they had someone like you moving contraband around Boston’s population.

So, after a few hours of sleep on that radically uncomfortable cot, you decided to head back to Joel’s place.  The sun was just above the horizon by this time, but only the people working early shifts for their rations were up now; you liked the city best when it was quiet like this, but then again, you liked almost everything better quiet.

Usually, Joel’s apartment was the same way.  But when you walked in, the energy was completely different than you were used to.  Where you’d normally find Tess counting up the score while Joel sipped on coffee (or liquor, depending most on the hour), instead you walked in on what was clearly a lover’s quarrel.

The thing was, this was not your typical argument— they were doing it Joel and Tess style, which is to say, as repressed as possible.  In fact, they weren’t even talking when you walked in, but just the way they were standing was indicative of the discomfort they were clearly trying not to acknowledge.

Tess was at the window, arms crossed, looking at the view; and you knew that was a bad sign, because there was no view to be had, the QZ was an eyesore and she complained about it all the time.  Joel was sitting at the table, facing the other way, his hand squeezing his own fist instead of the handle of his mug— it didn’t look injured, but his face still had a hint of pain on it.

“I’m sorry—” you mumbled, not sure what you were apologizing for yet, but Tess interrupted you.

“I’ll go,” she decided, walking over to the table.

“Okay,” Joel agreed, not looking at her.

Well, you were no relationship expert, and you didn’t even know what they were arguing about… but you knew that was pretty cold.  “So that’s all you’re gonna say to me?” Tess prompted him, her tone tight and her eyes red.

You kept your head low, as if that would hide the fact that you could clearly see and hear all this.  

“Yeah,” Joel decided, not as aloof as usual; it reminded you of how he usually spoke to you, that frustration, but it was definitely different.  More… exhausted.  “Yeah, it is.”

Tess put her weight predominantly on one leg, her hips shifting, as she let out a scoffing sort of breath.  For a moment, she looked at you; you looked back at her shyly from beneath your brows before looking away.  Why would she look at me right now?

Shaking her head, she left, mumbling to herself but you couldn’t make it out.  The door slammed behind her.  Joel sighed next.

“Everything okay?” you asked sheepishly, twisting your boot on the floor to watch the shapes it made in the thin layer of dust.

“Clearly,” he insisted, and the sarcasm was obvious though his voice was neutral.  You could tell he didn’t want you to prod more— anyone who knew Joel for two minutes would know that— but you still chewed your lip as you wondered what you should do.

Your attention turned to the stacks of contraband on the table; most of it was perfectly legal material to own, just not legal to acquire from outside the city’s perimeter.  “Looks like a good haul this time,” you noticed, hoping a change of subject would soothe him a little.  Maybe it did, but he didn’t show it.  He just kept squeezing his fist, and you gently sat down across from him at the table— and you started doing what you figured you should, going through what they’d brought back and starting to figure how much you could get for it.

For a while, he entertained that conversation, though with as short of responses as possible.  Not even a ‘yes’ or a ‘no’, just hums and grunts that got the point across.  You could tell he was thinking, but you could also tell he didn’t want to be— that he’d rather forget about all that.  For once, he was struggling to do that.

It scared you to imagine doing something he so obviously didn’t want you to do, but you knew you couldn’t ignore it forever.  “What made her so upset?” you asked softly, finally.

He paused for so long that you thought he was just ignoring your question, but he did eventually say something.  “She told me something I wasn’t ready to hear,” he answered, “and… and I guess I said the wrong thing.”

“What did you say?”

“Actually, I didn’t say anything,” he admitted with a thin laugh.  “But, I said nothing in the wrong way.”

"... Do you think she'll come back?" you pressed, and his sigh was answer enough.

You had to wonder if he'd make you a real partner in all this now.  Probably not, right?  He thought so little of you before, that wouldn't change just because Tess was out.

“I’m sorry,” you decided.

“It’s not your fault,” he promised.  “It was me.”

You didn’t press on that, already thankful and pleasantly surprised by how much he’d shared.  He stood up a moment later, leaving the table and moving to the kitchenette so he could make some coffee; oddly, that comforted you.  Like things were going to go forward now, like life could be normal again and he would still drink his coffee.

For a while, it was quiet— just how you liked it, and how you figured he liked it, too.  He was humming a song at one point but you didn’t think he realized he was doing it.

It was so quiet, in fact, that when you went to lay on the sofa later, you ended up accidentally dozing off.  You couldn’t say how long you were asleep— you were pretty underslept, but it didn’t feel like more than an hour— just that you were awoken to the sound of movement in the kitchen area.

Sitting up, you tilted your head when you saw Joel had begun packing up the contraband haul— well, half of it.  “What are you—?” you began to ask, but then you saw the time, and you remembered; but he answered you anyways.

“Our buyer’s on his break now,” Joel announced as he stuffed a pack of bandages into his bag.  “I said I would meet him to show him what we got.”

“I can go with you!” you announced.  “You know, if Tess isn’t—”

“It’s fine,” he insisted, “I can do it myself.”

“Joel, please,” you pressed, “I promise I’ll do whatever you need me to, I just wanna help—”

“I need you to stay here,” he frowned.

Some things never change, huh?  “Why don’t you just let me go?  Let me help you?” you whimpered, lip shaking as you started to cry.  You hated yourself for it, but you knew you couldn’t stop it.

There was a pause before he responded.  “I don’t like the way he looks at you,” Joel explained, but you doubted that was the real reason he didn’t want you to come.  “It only takes one of us, you’re better off here.”

“Tess was gonna go!” you reminded him, getting more upset.  "I know I'm not…" you trailed off as you tried not to cry too much or too loudly.  "I can't do what she can— I'm not strong…"

He sighed as he knelt down in front of you, resting his hand on your knee.  You peeked out from behind your fingers, but looked down again.

"I'm not— I'm not smart, either," you whimpered.  "I don't know anything, about before, about now—"

"That's not true," he mumbled, but you weren't finished yet.

"Nobody knows why you even keep me around, I sure don't," you shrugged, dropping your hands defeatedly, hot tears running faster down your face and dripping onto your pants; his hand reached up and wiped your cheeks with a gentleness you never knew he had.  “M’not… I’m not tough, like you guys…”

"You know what you are, little girl?" he replied quietly.  "You're good.  You're sweet.  Me an' Tess, we need someone like you to keep us from bein' sad old assholes all the time…"

He sighed, and you thought was done talking, until he spoke again, softer.

"I need someone like you."

Your heart swelled, and light filled your chest, until you had just enough confidence to finally blurt out what you'd been holding in for months: "Joel, you should know that I always—"

"Shh," he soothed, nodding.  "I know."

Your face got hot instantly again, and your heart sank.  "I think everybody knows," you mumbled awkwardly, giving him a half-smile through the drying tears.  "But I thought— it's just that you never—"

“I couldn’t,” he insisted.  “You understand that?  I couldn’t, not with you—”

“Why not?” you snapped.  “Why can’t you?”

“If you don’t know why, you’re more hopeless than I thought,” he frowned.

“I know— I know I’m… a lot younger than you…” you mumbled, almost not wanting to say it in case he actually hadn’t noticed that.  “I know you think I’m not very mature and stuff… but that shouldn’t matter when you really love someone—”

“Woah, hey,” he coughed, “love?  Sweetheart, you’ve got a crush—”

“No!  Don’t tell me how I feel,” you snapped, surprising both of you with your sudden ability to stand up to him.  “You can tell me what to do but not what to feel.”

“Okay,” he softened up, “fine.  That’s fair.  But it’ll pass—”

"I've never loved anybody before," you whimpered, "and I'm never gonna love anybody like I love you.  I know that!  I know you think I'm just a stupid kid who doesn't understand love, but I know that I really love you!  Okay?  So just… just stop talking!  Doesn’t need to take this long for you to reject me, geez…”

There was a pregnant pause, you were too caught up in your own frustration to really notice it: the way he looked to the side, chewing on the inside of his cheek for a moment.  You weren’t expecting him to say anything after that, so it nearly startled you when he spoke.  “It was last night, after you left,” he explained.  “I— I thought about telling you to come back, figured you’d be safer on the couch than walking back across the city at that time…”

Wrapping your arms around your chest, you smiled a little imagining that, but you knew you couldn’t have taken him up on that offer: it would’ve killed you, trying to sleep on that sofa while Joel and Tess shared the bed.

“She told me not to,” Joel continued.  “That’s… that’s how it started, I guess…”

“That girl’s so obsessed with you,” Tess laughed lightly, toying with Joel’s lapel.  “It’s cute, really.  I mean, it’s sad— but it’s cute.”

“Hm,” Joel said first, not really listening— it took him a second to properly react.  “Why is it sad?” he asked when her words processed completely.

“‘Cause she thinks she might actually have a chance,” Tess explained.

That was it, what he did wrong; he sees it now, in retrospect, but at the time he figured saying nothing was his safest bet.  Apparently, he didn’t have to say anything.

“Shit,” Tess said suddenly, moving instantly from shock to anger.  “Are you fucking serious?”

“What?” Joel spat.

“You know fucking what,” she returned sharply.  “That look— you looked away.”

“Okay?  So?” Joel tried to defend himself, but he knew that she knew now— believe it or not, he really wasn’t much of a liar.  Especially with her.

“She’s a goddamn fetus, Joel,” Tess reminded him.  “She hasn’t seen a hundredth of the shit we’ve seen, she hasn’t lost anyone—”

“Lost her parents,” Joel corrected.

“Well, we all lose our parents,” Tess rolled her eyes, “that’s part of life.”

Not the way she lost them, Joel wanted to add, but he was going back to his original plan of saying nothing.

“She’s not like us,” Tess insisted.

“Maybe that’s a good thing,” Joel decided.

That was the point of no return; because Tess had never thought of you as competition, she barely even thought of you at all, but if innocence was something he wanted… then the competition was already over before it even started.  The silence was heavy, more sad than angry, and Joel knew he really fucked up because he’d never really seen Tess speechless before.  Is it bad that he didn’t regret it, though?  Maybe he could’ve handled things better, but telling her the truth couldn’t be wrong.  It’s not like he’d been hiding it, really— he never even acknowledged it himself, not often.

“I can’t believe you,” she shook her head, and shame twisted in his gut.  “Part of me always— not always, I guess, but part of me wondered.  Sometimes the way you looked at her…”

As she trailed off, Joel looked down, too afraid for her to look in his eyes now.

“You’d do anything to keep her safe,” she said instead of finishing that last thought.  “I told myself you didn’t look at me like that because you knew I could protect myself.”

“I do,” he promised.

“So what do you want?” she asked point-blank.  “Something you can protect, or something you don’t have to?”

“And what did you say?” you asked hurriedly.

“I told her what I wanted,” was all he replied, and your heart skipped.  “And that’s… that’s why she left.”

Joel nodded slightly, looking away.  But you reached out and touched his face, turning it back towards you.  Impulsively, you leaned forward and kissed him; it took all the courage you had, and a hand on his shoulder for balance, but you felt him kiss you back after a moment.  It was gentle, for how sudden it was, and you sighed as his hand moved higher up your leg.  

You were still crying, because of course you were, but he didn’t mind as much as you’d worried: he only wiped your tears away, holding onto your face, standing up and pulling you with him.

“I love you,” you whispered as he embraced you, wanting to say it a thousand times now that it wasn’t the worst-kept secret in Boston.  “I love you, Joel—”

“I know,” he promised, whispering back into the kiss which got deeper with each passing moment.  “I know, darlin’.”

That was enough for you— that was plenty: the way he kissed you, and held you, calling you darlin’ in that rough-yet-gentle voice… you were weak already, melting into his touch, ready to give him anything.

In fact, he had to put a hand on your shoulder and gently push you away to get you to calm down, and your face heated up as you realized how eager you’d been.  “Don’t need to get so worked up, m’gonna take care of you now, okay?”

“You always take care of me,” you noticed.

“A different way,” he explained.

Just the way those brown eyes darkened, just the way he said that made your thighs clench against each other.  “Y-you’ll miss the meeting with the buyer,” you realized.

“Fuck,” Joel grumbled, and you smiled a bit.  “Waited this long and now I’ve gotta fuckin’ leave you again.”

Your hand rested on his chest, the soft flannel of his shirt transmitting some of the warmth of his body, and you looked up with him with wide, wet eyes.

“I know you hate waitin’ here, but… I always liked it,” he admitted, his voice softer yet deeper.  “I always liked knowing you were here, waiting for me…”

Your heart swelled.  “Y-yeah— I didn’t mind waiting for you so much,” you admitted in return, “just didn’t want you to think that’s all I was good for.”

He kissed your temple, making your chest flood with warmth.  “I know,” he promised.  “You’ll be here when I get back, won’tcha?  Can’t disappear on me now.”

“I won’t, I’ll be here,” you assured, turning your face to peck his cheek in return.  It seemed to surprise him, like he hadn’t had tenderness of that sort in a long time.

~

Funny how you’d waited for him all night before, but that half hour felt longer than all of them combined.  You were quite sure you knew what he meant before— about how he would take care of you in a different way— and it put you on edge all afternoon.

You couldn’t stop thinking about the way he’d kissed you, about his hands pulling you closer.  Or his eyes: if he’d ever looked at you like that before, you hadn’t noticed (which was probably what he intended).  

For how much time you spent wondering what you would do, what you would say, when he returned, you ended up not doing much of either: he was on you the moment he stepped in the door, though that was sort of what you’d been betting on when you decided to strip down to just your underwear and wait for him like that.  Not that you minded the idea of him, you know, tearing your clothes off like one of those romance novels— you just didn’t like the idea of having to wait any longer than you already had and this shirt had way too many buttons.

He did take a moment to stare you down when he came back, to appreciate your nakedness, and despite imagining showing yourself to him many times before, you felt a little self-conscious with his eyes just piercing through you like that: you didn’t cover yourself, ignoring a slight instinct to do so, but you did wrap your arms over your stomach and cross your legs as you sat on his bed.

Waiting for him to say something— or, possibly, waiting for yourself to find some courage to speak— you were a little taken aback when he grabbed you and kissed you.  And you realized, as his lips moved with yours even harder, deeper, needier than before, that there was nothing else to say.

He climbed on top of you on that bed, laid you down on it gently, as his weight pressed you down into the mattress.  You could've sworn you heard him growl when he rocked his hips against yours, a firm bulge in his jeans pressing right up to where heat had gathered between your legs.

Fingers weaving in his hair, you hummed as you did all you could to keep him close, as if he might just disappear if you didn’t hold him near to you.  But he didn’t seem like much of a flight risk, considering his tight grip on you— so tight it could leave marks, which you hoped it would.  You needed more than just memories of this.

“Tell me this is what you want,” he demanded, his voice breathless yet somehow not weak at all.  “Need to know you want this.”

“Fuck, Joel, f’course,” you promised— wasn’t it obvious?  It probably was.  But you could understand if he was still fighting back some guilt; you just wanted to do everything you could to help him forget about that.  “So bad,” you continued, “for so long…”

“Since I saved you?” he assumed, his teeth grazing your lip like a threat to bite down harder— a threat that made you throb from the inside out.

“Before,” you admitted, smiling sheepishly.  

“Didn’t even know me before,” he noticed, raising an eyebrow.

“Saw you around sometimes—” god, am I blushing as hard as it feels like I am? — “thought maybe you could… you know…”

Protect me.  Hold me.  Take care of me.  And fuck me like the world is ending even though it already did.

He smirked at you proudly, leaning in to kiss your neck this time, following some invisible trail that made you even more sensitive to the touch of his lips; after he kissed right under your ear, he whispered to you.

“Then just go ahead and take what you want, darlin’.”

After a shiver ran over you, so strong you thought it might never end, your hands shot down between you so you could get to work on his belt and fly; you felt his smile against your skin, then his teeth a moment later, as his hand rubbed the curve of your waist gently.

Both of you gasped when your fingers wrapped gently around his cock, for different reasons.  The skin was so smooth, it was hard to believe something this soft and silky was part of Joel— and it was hot, or maybe your fingers were just cold, but you hoped that didn't bother him.

He was already starting to move his hips just a bit, rocking into your touch, and you hummed when he suddenly grabbed your hand to force it to press firmer against himself.  "You thought about touchin' me like this before?" he asked in a voice that was breathy and low— you loved hearing the pleasure in his voice.

"Y-yeah," you admitted shyly; when he let your hand go, your touch wandered, your hands sliding up under the bottom of his shirt so you could feel the skin there— the firm muscle, the thin scars, the graying hairs that formed a trail down his stomach…

Grabbing your wrists, he pinned them down above your head, and you let out a joyful whine.  "Keep those there," he ordered, and you nodded as you watched him intently.

His hands traced down your body, making shivers run all over your skin; how could a man with so much strength touch you so delicately?

He purred as his fingers ran down to your panties, toying with the edge of the fabric before carefully pulling them down your legs.  You tried not to wiggle too much, but your hips were desperate for some friction, for some attention from him— they didn't have to wait long, though.  He groaned at the sight as he parted your legs, grabbing himself to rub his fat head through your folds.  "Fuck," he mumbled, your channel clenching on nothing as you saw how far apart his tip forced your swollen lips, "so wet for me already, bet I'll slide right in…"

Your back arched with a moan just imagining that, and he pushed your stomach down flat with his free hand so you wouldn't angle too far away from him, laying his body atop yours.  Though you tried to stay still, you couldn’t stop shaking as he lined himself up; it felt surreal, it felt hyperreal— his skin against yours was unlike anything you could’ve imagined.

You’d sort of wondered if he’d say something before he put it in, maybe a quick you ready? or even here it comes which would’ve been stupid but an appreciated warning nonetheless.  Instead, he just looked at your face carefully, and pushed inside.  It was sudden, sharp; your whole body tensed up and you sucked in a breath before biting your lip.

He only made it halfway in, struggling against how tight you were.  You were doing everything you could not to give away your pain, but he must've seen it in your expression.

"What's wrong?" he asked in a hoarse whisper.  "I'm hurting you…"

"No— Joel, please don't stop—"

You wrapped your legs around his hips to try to keep him inside, but he pulled out most of the way and looked down— and you winced when he saw the blood.  "Baby, you… are you— is this your—?  Fuck, why didn't you say something?"

"You wouldn't have done it with me if you knew it was my first time," you explained with a whimper.

"No, baby— I just would've taken my time with you, s'all," he sighed, "would've helped you— sweetie, it didn't need to hurt like that…"

Clutching tighter at his shirt, you pulled him down into a needy kiss. "Hurt me more, Joel," you pleaded into it with a breathy whisper, "do whatever you want to me.  I'm yours— that's all I want, just to be yours."

He kissed you back, slow but passionate; but, much to your dismay, he pulled out and sat up.

"No, Joel, I'm sorry," you whined, "I'm sorry— I didn't mean to lie, I'm so sorry, I promise I can be good!  M'gonna be really good for you!"

But he just shook his head, and you bit your quivering lip as tears ran down your temples.  He smiled, just a little.  "Such a crybaby," he scolded you softly.  "What am I gonna do with you, little girl?  You can't even keep yourself together."

He leaned down again, but he slid his knees down on the bed so he could position his face between your legs.  He kissed your inner thigh first, and you jumped because it tickled.

Then he held your hips, running his thumbs over your skin soothingly, and you tried not to squirm too much as he looked up at you with those dark eyes— much darker than before.  “You want me to taste you?” he asked, like it was your idea or something.

“Uh, yeah,” you mumbled sheepishly, and he actually laughed for a moment.  

“Yeah?” he repeated.  “Could you be a little more specific?”

Oh— he wants me to beg.  “Um— please?  Taste me, Joel…”

He smiled, but not like a haha funny smile or an oh that’s nice smile— a really dirty kind of smile, even though his teeth were actually in better condition than most out here.  “Okay, baby,” he agreed.

He was subtle about it at first, just giving gentle kisses all around; you felt… exposed, even more than you had with his face between your legs before.

“Is that alright?” he asked, his voice rougher than the last time you heard it.

“Y-yeah,” you choked, clearing your throat.  “Don’t… don’t stop, please…”

When he got back to it, he was much more aggressive— long, slow licks between your lips, sloppy kisses with his eyes shut tight; and you whined as you held on tighter to the sheets.  You didn’t realize how hard you were shaking until his grip on your thighs was bruisingly tight.  And as he held you down, he just dug in deeper: every time you thought he’d stop escalating the intensity of it all, he just did it more— he just did everything more— until you couldn’t control your moans and gasps anymore.

His tongue was the fucking devil; he slid it inside you and your eyes rolled back.  He sucked greedily on your clit until your hips bucked uncontrollably, moaning against your skin just enough that you could hear it over your own shameless cries.

"Joel, fuck, how are you—?  Oh god—"

"Mm?" he encouraged you to finish your thought without breaking away from you.

"How does that feel so good?" you sobbed.  "Oh my god— please don't stop, never stop, oh fuck!"

All he was doing was flicking his tongue over your bud, such a small interaction with a tiny little organ, and your whole body was shaking.  Reaching down and grabbing his hair, you didn't mean to tug on it so hard but you also didn't expect him to moan deeply when you did.  

His mouth moved a little higher, focusing on the bud you were sure had never been this swollen or this sensitive.  Doing so freed your opening, and one of his thick fingers prodded at it.  "Please," you panted, wanting any part of him to be inside you again.

He pushed it in, the roughness of his skin creating the perfect friction on your delicate walls.  You were waiting to feel his knuckle against you, but instead he only put it in maybe halfway, not very far at all.  It didn’t make much sense to you, until he started to rub one place just inside and a gasp instantly inflated your chest.

“Oh—” you choked, and he was licking harder on your clit at the same time that he added a second finger; you’d never felt anything like it before.  “Joel!” you squealed, hating how girlish it sounded but helpless to the control he had over your body with just two fingers and his tongue.

His rhythm wasn’t all that fast but it was relentless, the exact tempo you needed for that pleasure to build and build, toes curling and vision getting all spotty— you tried to look down at him sometimes, but your head wanted so badly to tilt back and let everything go black.

“I— oh, fuck— I’m gonna— fuck, Joel!” you sobbed, grabbing on tighter to his hair; you took one glimpse at it, and when you saw the scattered silver hairs peeking out from between your fingers, it just made you even more overwhelmed.

He hummed and looked up at you, encouraging you— his fingers pumped faster and faster suddenly, and when it hit, you felt like your whole body was going numb.  It started where he was touching you, but then a moment later it was in your head, then it was just running all over and you were too weak to do anything but give into it.

Suddenly it became too much, and the hand that had been holding him down by his hair was suddenly pushing him away; you blinked away the spots in your vision to catch a glimpse of him with that beard soaked in you, but his fingers hadn’t stopped yet.  “Oh… ohhh my god…” you whined, breathing harder than you could ever remember breathing before, your head getting all dizzy and cloudy as he smirked up at you and continued fucking you with his hand.

Your hole was pulsing, flexing over and over, waves of slick leaking out until you could feel the puddle spreading under you.  Your cheeks burned with humiliation, even though he kept praising you as his fingers milked everything from your swollen spot.  "Good girl, good girl," he said over and over, "fuck, good job, soak the sheets, baby— soak my fingers, keep going…"

"Joel," you sobbed, desperate for some relief from the overwhelming sensation.  He didn't really stop, just slowed down a lot, but he kept twisting his fingers and rubbing that one place until your quivering body collapsed completely onto his mattress.  And then he went on for just a little bit longer after that.

Then he stopped.  When you thought you might fucking pass out.

He climbed up your body and brought his two soaked fingers to your slack lips.  

"You want a taste, too, baby?" he purred.

You dutifully opened your mouth and did your best to clean his fingers off, sucking and licking as he hummed a bit; his eyes got a little darker as he felt your tongue run all over his rough fingers.

"What do you think?" he prompted when he pulled his fingers away, and you swallowed as you made a little face.

"I dunno if I like it," you admitted nervously.  "Kinda sour."

"Really?  I think your pussy's fuckin' delicious."

Your face flushed, but you didn't say anything else because he was reaching down to hold his cock again— and your heart started racing.

"Ready to do this the right way?" he prompted, and you nodded eagerly.  "S'gonna feel so much better, now you're all ready for me.  Ready for something this big inside ya— but it might still sting at first, okay?  Just hold onto me tight."

That you did, tighter than you thought you could— apparently you were stronger than you realized, especially considering that orgasm nearly took you out a minute ago.  But you had to hold on that tight as he began to push that fat head inside you, stretching you so wide before he'd even gotten the ridge of it past your opening.  It didn't sting like before, or at least not as much, but it was still completely overwhelming.  You forgot to breathe until he was halfway in: you gasped out his name, reminding yourself he was inside you and above you and everywhere, everything.

"See how much— fuck— how much easier it is now?" he grunted, sliding into you slowly until his hips met yours.  "See how you're takin' all'a me?  God damn, still tight as hell, though."

You were delirious already, he hadn't even moved yet.  You didn't think it could get much better than his mouth on you, than coming because of him, but this?  This perfect stretch, this addictive friction, knowing he was completely inside you and that he liked how you felt?  This was ecstasy, bliss.  And he hadn't even fucking moved yet.

"Gonna have a hard time being gentle with you now," he admitted with a growl beside your ear.  "You've got one of those perfect little pussies that just needs to be fucked hard— suckin' me in, just beggin' for it rough and fast."

"Joel," you whined, "fuck me however you want, please… I can take it, I swear, I want you so bad…"

Still, when he moved, it was slow and patient.  Too goddamn slow.

"Fuck," you sobbed, back arching up off the bed as he carefully savored every detail of you.  "Fuck, Joel, I can't— I can't believe you're— I can't believe it's you.  I wanted you so much I couldn't fucking breathe."

He smiled at you, and leaned in to kiss your neck; you let out what could only be described as a joyful whimper.  “Wanted you too,” he finally admitted.  “Tried not to, you’re so young… jus’ couldn’t help it after a while.”

"Faster," you whined, "please, fuck, please please—"

"You are so goddamn spoiled, you know that?" Joel grunted— but then he did it, he fucked you even faster than you'd imagined.  His thrusts were still deep and long, but they came at you quicker than you could process and you nearly screamed.  

You were even more sensitive after he’d made you come the first time; it was just overwhelming, the feeling of him, and you felt like your mind had left your body— like your mind had left you entirely.

“Y’feel fuckin’ perfect, darlin’,” he praised lowly, kissing your neck with all the gentleness and patience his thrusts lacked.  “So good for me.”

Maybe it was pathetic, but being good for him felt fucking amazing— not just physically, obviously.  It felt like having a purpose; you’d never really felt that before.

You lost track of time; honestly, you lost track of everything.  Everything that wasn’t this had fallen away, and it was just you holding on for dear life as Joel wrecked you all over again with every motion.  "Hear that?  How wet you are for me?" he groaned, and yes, there was a squishy-wet sound that filled the room with each thrust.  You tried to answer him, say something witty about how he made you that wet so many times, but only moans came when you opened your mouth.  "I asked you a question," he reminded you.  "Can you fuckin' hear it?"

Whimpering, you could only bite your lip and nod.

"Oh," he smiled, "I see— you get stupid with cock in you, huh?  Get fucked right and that silly brain just turns off?"

You nodded again— wasn’t much else for you to do.

"Just gonna be a dumb whore for me now?" he asked.  "Just kidding, I know you already were."

“Fuck— Joel—” you choked.

"No no, it's okay— it's good,” he soothed you, kissing a tear from your temple that you hadn’t even realized was there.  “You don't need to think.  I don't need you to think.  You can just be my fucktoy, okay?  You can just be my slut.  Say it."

"I-I'm your slut, Joel…"

He hummed appreciatively; your moan caught in your throat, and you tried to hide your face in his shoulder— you couldn’t believe he was still dressed, for all you knew he still had his boots on, and meanwhile you were stripped of everything.  Not just your clothes: you were stripped of all pretense (didn’t need it) and dignity (didn’t want it).  You’d thought of yourself as his for quite some time now, but now that he’d really made you his, it was more than you could’ve imagined.

When you came with him inside you, it wasn’t like how it was before— definitely similar, obviously the same thing at the core of it, but very different.  Before it was so… sudden, like a firework going off and then glittering into darkness (at least, that was how you understood fireworks to be, you’d only ever had them explained to you).  This was more like a deep pressure that just built and built and built, and then at some point you’d crossed that threshold and you were there but it didn’t go away, it just stayed at the peak while he kept moving inside you.

He grunted as your walls beared down on him, watching the tears of ecstasy stream down your face.  “Tryin’ to milk my cock, huh?” he accused with a snarl to his tone.  “S’that what you want?”

You weren’t really paying attention, you couldn’t while he was fucking you like that.  Digging your fingers into his shoulders through the flannel shirt, you just whimpered and nodded.

“S’workin’, baby,” he smiled, “little pussy’s got me so tight— is it a little too much, honey?  You’re cryin’...”

“I— I always cry,” you sniffled.

“M’not gonna make you take too much more,” he promised, “doin’ so good honey— gonna let you rest soon—”

“No, d-don’t stop,” you begged, and he laughed a little.

“I’m close,” he explained, and even though that should’ve been obvious, it made you feel better.  “Normally takes me a little longer, but… never had a pussy like this.”

That was probably just flattery, but you were happy to believe it.  Happy enough to just lay back and let that pleasure wash over you, but of course, he expected more of you than that.

"Tell me where I can come," he ordered.  

"Fuck, Joel— anywhere you want, anywhere," you pleaded, struggling to keep your train of thought but desperate to appease him as best you could.

"Inside you?" he pressed.

"Yeah, fuck, anywhere," you insisted.

"I bet that's what you want— you want it inside.  You want this cunt full and dripping."

“Fuck— yeah,” you agreed, “s’what I want— please, please—”

“Shh, don’t need to beg,” he assured sweetly, kissing your neck again— burying his face in the crook of your shoulder, until his panting breaths echoed on your skin.  “Don’t need to beg, darlin’, gonna fill you nice and deep—”

“Please,” you said again, ignoring his assurances.

“Just like you need it—”

“Please, Joel— love you so much,” you sobbed, your thighs starting to go a little numb where his jeans were rubbing against them and your clit getting sore from the way he stayed deep inside and grinded himself against you.

“I know,” he promised again, “jus’ say it one more time.”

“I love you, Joel,” you cried, and it was over somewhat suddenly: he stayed still, and you could feel his grip on you tighten, and you heard that sound that was like a groan and a sigh at the same time.  You’d hoped you’d be able to really feel it inside you, the warmth of his come, but everything was so hot that it was all the same— what you did feel was full, even more than you had just from his cock in you, and it was enough to make you clutch at his shoulders again despite having almost no energy left in you.

Though he stayed inside for a little while after, he did eventually have to pull out; you were too exhausted to even think about trying to close your legs when he stared down at you— at his come leaking slowly from your hole.

You knew there would need to be a conversation soon about what this all meant— what should happen now with the business, with your relationship, even just what should happen tomorrow morning since you’d both given in to instinct rather than take the safer route and have Joel pull out…

But that would have to wait; you still couldn’t think straight, you couldn’t think about anything but him in fact.

Thankfully, Joel was just fine with the silence.  He just held you, let you wander between sleep and wakefulness, and wiped that last stray tear away from your face.

“I’m sorry I keep crying,” you offered quietly, breaking a long silence.

“I don’t mind,” he promised.

Kisses After Midnight

Pairing: Joel Miller x Reader Smut

Summary: Joel gets back from a long patrol in the middle of the night. It’s clear that his baby missed him very much.

Notes: smut, sub!reader, soft!dom!joel, praise, dirty talk, unprotected piv, Joel calls reader every pet name in the book, teasing, slight orgasm denial, dd/lg vibes sorta (but no use of ‘daddy’), let’s play a game called how many times can the author use the word ‘sweet’ in one fic

For it being the end of the world, you and Joel had a pretty good life. He’d been in Jackson for about eight months—eight months in which he gave his heart to the sweetest little thing to ever walk the earth.

Your very existence seemed to be a mockery of the times you lived in. You were soft and sweet, edges not yet roughed. He didn’t know how you’d gone so long staying as doe-eyed as you did—hell, he didn’t know how you ended up with him. He felt far too…jaded. Far too rough to be with someone so beautiful and untainted.

And yet, you were drawn to him. He still remembered the first day you knocked on his door, asking in your honey-sweet voice, I told Maria I’d give you a tour of the town. Is that alright, Mr. Miller? Oh, he’d just about died then.

Things only took off from there. Something would break in your house, and he’d be called over to fix it. Then you would bring him some bread you baked as a thank you, and then he’d say, Well this is too nice, darlin.’ Why don’t you let me return the favor by putting some shelves up in your living room? He’d seen the piles of books at your bedside—your love of reading deserved to be displayed.

Somewhere along the way, you and Joel just…fit. Something clicked, and soon he was moving into your pretty little house, placing kisses to your pretty little lips, waking up pressed against pretty little you.

Yes, for the end of the world, you and Joel were doing quite nicely.

Except on long patrol days, that is. Oh, Joel knew how much you hated it. Now that you’d gotten used to sleeping in Joel’s arms you didn’t want to give it up, not even for a single night.

But Joel had a part to play in the community—he couldn’t stop working, no matter how much he wished he could spend all his time with you. He’d press kisses to your quivering bottom lip, murmuring reassurances that he would be back the very next night.

Which brought him to now. He’d spent a day and a half out in the cold with Tommy scanning for Clickers, thinking about his princess the entire time ice and wind battered his face. Finally, after a day and a half without seeing you, he was shaking the snow off his jacket and stepping inside your shared home.

Joel was quiet as he took off his shoes and shed his outer layers before heading upstairs. Once inside your room he stripped down to his cotton t-shirt and boxers, then slid under the covers beside you. He wrapped his large arm around your body, pulling you into him and was delighted to find you were wearing nothing but one of his shirts. He nuzzled the top of your head with his nose, then placed a kiss in your hair. “Hey there, sleepyhead.”

You let out a soft yawn, still groggy and half-asleep. “Hm?”

He chuckled lightly and kissed your cheek. “Wake up, pretty baby.” Normally Joel would never wake you up in the middle of the night, but you had explicitly asked him to do so every time he got back from a long patrol. He still remembered your teary eyes the morning after the one time he’d tried to let you sleep and just greet you in the morning. He’d never tried again after that.

Now you began to really stir, blinking your eyes as you looked up at him with a soft, sleepy pout that he wanted to kiss. However, it melted away when your eyes grew a little more alert. “Joel?”

He brushed the hair from your face. “Mhmm. I’m home,” he whispered before kissing you soundly on the mouth. He pulled away just slightly, eyes dancing over your face. “I missed my gorgeous girl’s eyes…and those lips, especially.”

You leaned up to plant another firm kiss to his mouth before holding to him, nuzzling your face into his neck, letting out a soft breath of something almost like relief.

He kept you pressed to the warmth of his body, “Was my little girl lonely ‘round here?” he murmured, rubbing your back gently.

You nodded into his neck. “Missed you.”

He chuckled, kissing your neck, holding you close. “I’m right here now.” His sweet thing. His nose brushed along your jaw and neck, taking in your scent. “Let me ease that pretty little mind a bit, hm?”

Your breath hitched and you nodded, eyes getting a little more glossy…

“C’mere, babygirl…” he whispered, cradling the back of your head to pull your lips to his. Joel’s hands roamed over the curves of your body, mapping out each and every familiar piece of you, his palms warm and strong against your skin. He nibbled at your bottom lip until you parted your mouth in a gasp to allow his tongue to slip inside.

Joel soon broke the kiss, panting softly before he started trailing his lips down your throat and collarbone, nibbling and sucking as he went. “Missed that pretty little voice,” he murmured in that low voice of his. “Can you use it again for me sweetheart?” Joel knew how you got when he spoke to you like this. He knew you would be putty beneath him in no time.

You nodded, letting out a strained, “Mhmm.”

Joel pressed your back to the mattress so you were looking up at him. “Use your words, babygirl,” he reminded, dipping to kiss up your throat again. “Or do I need to make you?” His teeth caught on the sensitive skin below your jaw.

You gasped. “I-I can use ‘em.”

“Good girl,” he murmured, pulling away to look at your face, studying your expression. His fingertips brushed the edge of your neckline. “Can I take all this off, baby?”

You nodded, eyes big and wide. “Yes Joel, please.”

He let out a short, breathy chuckle. “So polite.” With that he got to work, pulling the shirt over your head with one swift tug, leaving you bare beneath him. He looked you over greedily, tracing his hands over your sides, squeezing your thighs, making you squirm. “Oh, sweetheart,” he groaned, eyes falling over your body. “Look at my sweet baby.”

You let out a soft whine of impatience, but Joel cut you off. “Ah—you gonna be a good girl?” He knew you would be. You always were. He just liked hearing it from your strawberry lips.

You nodded, eyes doe-like. “Yes, promise!”

He smiled. “Always listen so well for me.” He sat up a little to remove his own shirt and throw it to the floor, but swiftly leaned back down to kiss you deeply. You tasted like honey on his tongue and his hands slipped along your sides to rest on your hips, locking you in place.

You uselessly tried to buck against his strong hold, trying to press the apex of your thighs closer to his, but he was having none of it. He chuckled. “Needy girl…always gotta have me ‘s close as possible, hm? So greedy, baby.” His sentence was punctuated by a nip to your neck.

“Jus’ missed you.”

“I know darlin’, I know.” Such a soft, sweet voice you had. He met your big, glassy eyes as his fingertips dragged along your neck….your collarbone…until he grasped one of your breasts with his large hand.

He silenced your gasp with his kisses. His sweet girl—so sensitive, you were. You whimpered into his mouth as he brushed his thumb over the peak of your breast.

How had he been apart from you so long?

You were aching. Joel always likes taking his time with you, you knew that, but sometimes all you wanted him to do was pin you down and ravish you instead of playing you like his favorite instrument, stringing his fingers along each little spot that would make you sing….

Joel’s warm mouth closed around your breast and you let out another soft whimper as he flicked his tongue over the peak. Your hands were in his hair, threading through the salt-and-pepper curls while his tongue and teeth were at work.

Eventually, you couldn’t take it anymore. “Joel,” you whined, voice quivering.

“Don’t worry pretty girl, I’m gonna give you what you need.” His fingertips dragged down the center of your tummy, drifting farther and farther below…

“Oh,” Joel cooed, and you moaned softly as his fingers dipped into your wetness. “You’re so ready for me, sweetheart.”

You felt like you could cry from the need, the white hot flames that needed to be fanned and then extinguished. “Joel—”

“I’ll take care of you, darlin’. Don’t worry your pretty little head.”

His thumb found purchase on your bundle of nerves and you keened, arching your back, trying to get closer closer closer while he stoked the fire between your legs. He held you the whole time, murmuring how beautiful you were, how pretty your little voice was, how good you were being for him.

You could feel yourself slowly unraveling; the thread of your very being was fraying, coming apart as you climbed higher, higher—

He removed his hand.

Oh, you whined at that, your climax being ripped away so cruelly and carelessly. “No, no, Joel I—”

“Shh, shh baby.” He quieted your protests with a kiss. “I just had to get you ready for me—want you to finish around my cock.”

His bluntness made you squirm, and you’d been so lost in your pleasure that you hadn’t realized you could feel his hardness against your hip, thick and heavy.

Joel shucked down his boxers and tossed them to the side while you lay there waiting, aching for that fullness you knew so well—

You squealed as he tapped the wet tip of his length against the bud atop your slit.

He chuckled and silenced your high-pitched noises with gentle shushing. “I gotcha, honey,” he murmured.

Then he slid inside.

Joel let out a soft groan next to your ear as he fully sheathed himself within your wetness. “So tight for me baby—“ He cut off with another grunt, sliding out before pushing right back in.

He was so big, his strong arms holding you as he rocked his hips, filling you up, up, up until you swear you could feel him in your tummy. Your walls clenched against him, breath hitching with every thrust.

“My baby,” he crooned, ducking his head to kiss along your neck and shower you with praises as he held you to him. “My sweet babygirl. Missed you so much out on the trail, thought about your pretty little pussy the whole time—”

Your head fell back with a gasp as the tip of Joel’s hardness tickled that spot deep inside that had your toes curling.

He chuckled. “Is that the spot, baby?” He pointedly thrust again, making you moan, and grinned knowingly. “Oh, I think it is, hm?” He picked up his pace again, hitting that spot over and over and over.

You felt something start to coil in your lower belly, something familiar and white-hot. Joel reached down to rub circles into your clit, which made you let out a high-pitched whimper and clench around his length.

You were babbling mindlessly, thoughts empty save for him and how good he was making you feel. “Joel, Joel, I—oh please—I need—”

“I know what you need babygirl.” His teeth caught on your earlobe as he kept his pace. “Can feel—fuck—can feel you clamping down on me. You gonna finish for me already?”

You nodded, your lips parted in a silent gasp of need, eyes big and wide as you whined out a desperate, “Mhmm!”

You bucked your hips into his, and this time when you felt your legs tighten, your breath fail, your tummy coil, Joel murmured hushed affirmatives you your jaw and neck and ear—

You cried out as you fell over the edge. Your back arched, your muscles seized, and your vision blurred with overwhelmed tears as you felt the warmth of Joel finishing inside you soon after.

“That’s it sweetie—fuck, so good for me, such a good girl falling apart on my cock, taking me so well—”

You were letting out desperate needy noises, his name falling from your lips like a prayer as the crackling heat lingered.

“I know, I know,” he murmured, claiming your lips, swallowing your whines with his mouth. “You did so good baby, so good….look at you, my pretty girl, my baby….”

Your body went lax, melting against him, each coo and murmur bringing you deeper under.

“That’s it…I’ve gotcha…” Joel maneuvered you as if you were light as a feather so that you were laying side by side, still connected, him still thick and warm inside of you.

Completely blissed out, you nuzzled into his chest, relishing in the feeling of his strong arms around you. Your eyes drooped.

“Tired already, babygirl?”

“Mmm.”

Joel hummed and pressed a kiss to your forehead. “That’s okay, darlin’. Just fall back to sleep. I’ll be holdin’ you the whole night through.”

Soon the fog overtook your mind completely and you drifted off, comforted by the knowledge that your Joel was home again.