#joel miller x y/n

[pedgito]

𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐌𝐀𝐋 | Joel Miller x reader

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summary | Joel's itch to hunt has became a yearly tradition between you and him.

author's note | i had a very vague outline for this weeks ago that didn't feel solid enough but then i saw some gifs and had to collect myself, a huge hug to @gracieheartspedro for beta'ing this!

content warning | 18+ MDNI, jackson!joel, sex pollen (consenting), hunter/prey OR predator/prey (whichever you prefer), knives, joel intentionally hurts reader (consenting), mentions of scars, waterboarding adjacent (again, consenting), brat!reader, gratuitous smut (unprotected piv, oral, ect), creampies <3, cum feeding, some fluff at the end.

word count — 5k

“S’bout that time, baby.”

Joel isn’t even attempting to be subtle about it.

The itch came around the time the flowers were beginning to bloom and the overgrown foliage continued to make a home on earth, woven and wrapping around the cracks that have settled. It was always calmer too, oddly. Tommy had suggested Joel could take a few shifts hunting in the nearby woods for food—you know, scratch it. But, he didn’t understand the deeper implications and desires that Joel kept hidden away. Though, not from you.

He always had a habit of sneaking up on you in your home, quiet as a mouse you were, but even the slightest creak would give you away and Joel would come swooping in, stealing your heart right out of your chest as it stilled, relaxing as his warm, sweet musk consumed your entire being. 

He always sought you out, treated you like prey.

Joel was a natural born hunter, a defender—of his territory, his things.

When you switched jobs halfway through your first year in Jackson, botany to patrol, the idea arises. And that was all it was, at first. Presenting Joel with a set of options as your connection with him grew, seeing the ease of conversation behind his hardened exterior. 

He liked that you care, that you listened to him talking about his oddball interest without the return of a retching disgust, tongue peeking out of your mouth as your face scrunches up in aversion. Ellie had done it plenty of times, so instead, you ask questions.

Jackson had domesticated Joel back to his previous state, before the outbreak, with what little he’s told you about, he sounds like he wants to leave that man in the past. You understood him, born within a world of pure rage and hostility, fighting tooth and nail from the day you were born.

You were only a small child when the world fell and you barely remember anything from before outside of what you’ve learned from the elders around Jackson and Joel, who wasn’t nearly as old, but had still managed to live a full life and then some, his time split between both versions of this lifetime.

You had patrol together tomorrow, a full undisturbed weekend away.

He clinks your beer mischievously as his eyes glint with intrigue and a small smile tugs at his lips as he hides it behind the rim of his drink—it wasn’t a reminder, rather an auspicious warning.

–

In any other situation, you would hate this patrol spot. 

It was big, too big—why Tommy insisted on keeping it within the route was beyond your understanding, but for Joel, it was perfect.

He’s already digging in your bag for the mauve-hued powder, smelling faintly of berries even with the plastic bag wrapped tightly around it. It was something you had stumbled upon with Ellie during one of your earlier patrols, always following close behind to her wandering, stumbling upon a thick brush outside a forgotten, decaying cabin. 

A small plant, completely undisturbed. 

Ellie almost consumed the plant out of curiosity, eyes growing wide as you slapped her hand away.

“You’re right—yeah, that’s…not a good idea.” She quickly corrected herself, entranced by the intoxicating smell as you carefully unroot the plant and tuck it away in your pack, hopefully that it would stay intact on the ride back or that Shimmer wouldn’t sniff through your bag before you had the chance to make it back.

“Joel would kill me if I let this kill you.”

“Ah, he’s not so bad.” Ellie excused lazily, “Give him a chance.”

That you did.

You snatch the bag from his hand and tuck it away in your pocket.

“Sign us in at least,” You reprimand him, flicking him in the chest before you direct him with a pointed finger over his shoulder. An old, weathered notebook sitting on the counter of the empty clinic, “sweep first—hunt later.”

You both check your respective sides, dead silent throughout, as most of spring usually was around Jackson. Occasionally a straggler would find a way inside, a bloater or clicker that had wandered too far from the herd, but it was completely quiet.

You had traveled all night, the auburn sky fading to blue as the sun rose in the east, the rays projecting through the large window of the second floor of the hospital, an office that was set up with two beds and a pile of supplies for whoever had patrol that month.

Joel’s stripped his jacket off already, yours following suit as you throw it over.

“You know the drill,” Joel announces, his palm curving around the back of your neck as his other hand reaches for the gun tucked into the holster at your thigh, placing it on the counter, “one knife, that’s it.”

“Same rules apply to you, big guy,” You retorted, reaching around his backside for the gun tucked into his waistband, placing it beside your own gun.

He offers over the hunting knife by the handle, his fingers pressing tight against the sharpened blade, eyebrows raised in anticipation as you look at it for a moment, a split-decision before you shake your head, pushing his hand away.

“C’mon baby, now you’re just makin’ it easy.”

You scoff lightly, leaning down to remove your shoes and socks as Joel chuckles lowly, catching onto your antics as you strip yourself down to the bare minimum clothing you needed without being entirely naked—a skin-tight tank that clung to your curves and a pair of shorts that rolled up your thighs, reducing the risk of your clothes snagging in harder to access crevices.

You reach for the treasured bag of special powder that Joel was so eager to consume.

It was an enhancement—a pollen from a special flower that you still hadn’t identified, crushed down into an herb that you traded under the table in Jackson for a high price. The first time you had introduced it to Joel, he was hesitant. But, giving it an hour or so to set in convinced him otherwise.

He could hear better, feel, sense—it was intimidating, the look in his blood-shot eyes every time he found you, teeth bared as they dug into your skin, rutting against you like he was in heat. Sex was the only thing that quelled the ache that it caused as a side effect, and Joel was insatiable.

It started slowly, the slow thump of your heart quickening as the effects settled within you. Then, the paranoia set in, the heightened state of existence, and slowly the urge of desire would settle in, growing and growing until it was nearly unbearable—eventually willing enough to claw off your own skin in an attempt to ease the ache. 

It never got that bad, Joel wouldn’t allow it.

But, something about this batch felt potent.

You felt even more mischievous this time around, your third year of this little tradition and you were determined to make him work for it, drag it out until the final second, as the drug waned as neither of you could take it any longer, wanting to beat him at his own game.

“Like a mouse,” You tease, showcasing the near silent step of your feet against the floor as you lick your pointer and middle finger before dipping them into the bag, the powder sticking to your fingers as you press them to Joel’s tongue, his lips closing around the digits with an intense determination in his eyes, “let’s test out those instincts, old man.”

He mirrors your process, but wraps his free hand around your throat, forcing your chin up and mouth open as his fingers dip into your mouth and press down on your tongue, noticing the way his eyes are already dilated under the effect of the pollen, “I’ll leave a pretty one this time.”

A scar, he means. 

Two already existing jagged lines on each side of your pelvic bone as he pressed the blade to your skin in dignification of his victory, soothing the wound with his tongue and lapping up the blood.

You hum, closing your eyes at the sweet taste as it warms your body.

“If you catch me,” You tease, a slight amusement to your tone as you toss your head back, fingers pressing harshly against the sides of your throat.

“Bold,” He compliments, “s’cute—you can’t hide from me, sweetheart. I’ll find you.”

–

He always gives you a head start, it was only fair.

The only downside to the pollen was the overstimulation of sound, paranoid with every creak of the building as the heat expanded the metal, faint footsteps without any idea where they were.

You weren’t a hunter, by any means. But, you knew how to hide.

For Joel, he enjoys the chase.

However, he likes to seek, too.

And he’s quiet, unsuspecting.

The first four hours are spent working your way through the second floor as you hide away in hidden crevices and evaded his approaching figure as he traverses from room to room, knowing he’s wandering around with only the knife you had denied yourself, twirling it in his grip as you whistled, paused for an eerily long time, then whistled again. He's had surveying from side to side, scanning.

Everything was making you jump, even the low hum of the wind outside.

There’s a brief moment as you escape to the first floor that Joel catches sight of your quickly fleeing figure, calling out your name in a voice that doesn’t sound entirely of his own. It was deep and guttural, like a growl. Animalistic and dark, stripped down to his primal instincts.

“C’mon, little mouse,” You can hear the knife pierce into the weakening drywall as you hide between a crevice underneath the stairs, moving to your stomach to crawl underneath and use the advantage of the shadows casted by the sun as he paces around the hall for a moment, “let’s see if you’ll squeal for me.”

His foot kicks through a closed door, his soft whistling continuing as he searched around and came up empty-handed, biding your time under the stairwell for an extended period of time, skin dampy and clammy as the heat crept in, clothes dirtied with dust and stained with sweat.

By the time you feel safe enough to leave, knowing how easy Joel could wait you out, it was already creeping into the evening and you had cursed yourself for being so stubborn and leaving your pack behind—hungry and thirsty, the throbbing ache at your core growing stronger as you squeezed your thighs together and escaped the hiding spot.

You stop, listening intently, the faint sound of footsteps below in the basement.

You knew better than to trap yourself down there with him, knowing how easy of a win that would be for him, hearing the faint tap of the knife as he calls for you.

“I know you’re here. I can smell ya,” You hear faintly, “Betcha she’s drippin’ wet, huh?”

You can picture the sight of him, hand grazing over the denim of his jeans as he pressed his palm against his growing erection for relief, a similar detriment to your own but with two entirely different tasks.

You’ve never tried leaving the building before, but the peak of the pollen was beginning to take hold, your mouth dry and begging, aware of the creek just a few minutes into the forest down the road—you were desperate.

So, you book it.

And as your feet hit the entrance, you hear him.

But, he’s closer now, ascending the stairs to the first floor as his eyes lock on your shadowed figure before you slam the door closed behind you, his voice booming in the distance as the twigs break underneath your feet, wincing at the sting of pain it brings.

“Bad girl,” He taunts, “Breakin’ our rules, baby!”

Outside of the strict use of one weapon, mutually agreed upon, you both promised to never leave the premises, both for safety, and fairness. But, Joel was good—too good. If anything, it would give him a challenge.

You knew there would be consequences, but you couldn’t be bothered to care.

–

You had spent twelve hours evading him, bones and muscles aching with discomfort as you tripped, falling to the bed of rocks covered in slimy moss as you stumbled on your knees toward the running stream, cupping your hands to guide the water into your mouth, instantly quenching the thirst that had festered, patting your wet hands against your clammy skin, knees bloodied and dripping against the surface of the rock as you rested for a moment, catching your breath.

You welcomed the silence, wondering if Joel had stuck on the path of the road, unsuspecting that you would veer off barefoot into the forest on your own, constantly sticking by his side, vigilant of the threats that lingered there.

You whine as your cunt throbs with need, hastily shoving your hand under the fabric of your shorts to slide your fingers against the sticky, wet fabric of your underwear, the gentle press against your clit like a shock to the system, your free hand clutching onto nothing but air as you gasped, subconsciously rocking your hips against your hand.

Your eyes had fallen shut, lost in your own pleasure that you forget how vulnerable you are, nearly naked in an open forest where anyone could sneak up on you—though, no one traveled out this far and it had been several minutes since Joel had caught sight of you, the lack of defined tracks to follow proving difficult for him, but then you hear a sigh, a tsk.

He’s on you before you have a chance to react, knife at your throat as his teeth graze against the shell of your ear and he’s wrenching your hands away from your shorts, “Found you,” He hisses through clenched teeth, feeling his cock pressed against your thigh through the denim.

He was hot, burning up—both with a want for you, but physically, like a fever had taken over.

You hadn’t realized how much time had passed until you’re forcing your eyes open, staring up at the opaline moonlight, making Joel all the more threatening as you couldn’t see him, but you could feel him, rendered immobile as he worked himself over your hips, the weight of him keeping you still. 

“S’right little mouse, ain’t got nowhere to go, do ya?” He taunts, fingers curling around your head as they dig into the root of your hair and tug, the blunt side of the knife running along your throat.

“How’d—how did—find me?” You choke out through broken, garbled gasps as the drool accumulated in your mouth at his scent, the freshness of soap from a shower the night before but a mix of his own arousal collecting in his jeans, “What gave it ‘way?”

“Can hear those perfect little whimpers from a mile away, baby,” He softens slightly, panting heavily against your skin as he belt jingles with subtle movement, slipping through the loops before he’s disposing of it to the side, “S’that why you ran? Scared I was gonna catch you playin’ with yourself in there—well, look at ya,” He taunts, “Got a special place for this one,” 

You feel the cool edge of the knife drag along the side of your neck and down your spine, ripping through the fabric like butter, aided by the gentle tug of his hands as he ripped your top into pieces, repeating the process with your shorts, his fingers curling around the lacy edge of your underwear as he tugged up, dragging the tip of the blade along your cheek.

“Considering markin’ this pretty little ass up, that what you want?”

“S’that what you want?” You retort playfully.

There’s a small prick, another, pulling your underwear between your ass until he can get the blade underneath the fabric and with a quick flick of his wrist, it was nothing but trash, stuffed between his teeth as he inhaled your intoxicating scent, forcing your thighs apart as he cut lightly into your skin at first, an initial to mark his territory.

The letter J forever engraved at the inside of your thigh, the thumb of his unoccupied hand splitting through your folds and pressing against your swollen clit, distracting you from the sharp pain with his movements.

“S’beautiful,” He tells you, admiring the mark but also the way your cunt greedily sucks his thumb inside of you, “fuckin’ beautiful.”

Your hands balled into tight fists above your head as you writhe beneath him, “M’close, Joel—s’right there,” You moan, feeling his hand squeeze at your wounded thigh, his fingers stained with blood as he moves off of you, easily manhandling you onto your back as he stares down with dark, brooding eyes, disposed panties still stuffed in his mouth.

You rise onto your elbows as his hand molds over the back of your skull, nodding toward his buttoned jeans, his opposite hand reaching for your wrist as he guides it to the button before casually yanking the cloth from his mouth and stuffing it into the pocket of his jeans.

His unoccupied hand explores the peaks of your chest, soft and supple and begging to be squeezed, bitten, pert nipple the perfect size to fit between his lips and against the flat of his tongue, finding himself drifting at the thought before your roving touch brings him back.

“You feelin’ gracious?” He asks, “Gonna suck my cock?”

You nod obediently, his hand gripping tighter in your dirtied, damp hair.

He’s waiting, quietly, ominously, only barely satisfied as you begin to pry the button apart and pull at his zipper, the heat of his cock pressing against the fabric as you rub your palm over it teasingly, earning a sharp tug in return.

“You wanna keep up the game?” Joel asks like a warning, “I’ll hunt you through these damn woods, girl. And I won’t play nice.”

There’s a rawness to his voice during times like this, during the hunt. It’s similar to how he sounds as he rouses from bed, groggy with sleep—relaxed, but resting at a deep, booming register.

You pout slightly, squeezing your hand over the damp fabric of his underwear, precum seeping through the front as you lean forward, running your tongue along the cotton before pulling with your teeth at the waistband, tucking his underwear beneath his balls as you like from base to tip in one fluid movement, intoxicated by his scent.

It was mostly clean, but earthy—a day worth of exhilarating hunt and the heat of both the day and the pollen seeping from his pores, he’s salty and sweet, your tongue sliding slowly over the slit before he’s pushing his cock beyond your lips with a solid pump of his hips, moaning at the intrusion.

He favors the soft whimpers as your eyes flutter with the press of his cock against the back of your throat, fucking himself into your mouth with a tight hand in your hair, eyes welling with tears as you gasp after a particularly deep thrust, eyes blown wide as he pulled you off of his cock suddenly, moving to match his stance as you rise unsteadily to your knees.

“Nuh uh,” He admonished, “down, turn around.”

You open your mouth to speak and Joel slaps your face once, sharp, not entirely unsuspected as there was a clear definite line of who was in charge, always testing your limits when he asserted his dominance—you knew it was coming, you wanted it.

“S’your one and only warning,” He tells you sternly, “now turn.”

In times of desperate need and insatiable desire, it was easier to be a vessel to him. Fulfilling his release of pent up aggression and carefully tucked away primal nature, he shifts quietly behind you to stand and strip himself naked, fisting his cock into his hand as he rubs it through your slick folds, puffy and swollen from how badly you needed to be filled by him, consumed.

“So fragile, little mouse,” He takes glance of the weeping wound between your thighs and the flutter of your hole as he fits the head of his cock inside of you, only an inch of his thick and swollen cock, a collective sigh of relief from you both at the connection, “Need to remind you what it means to be mine, don’t I?”

“Joel fucking get on with it alread—”

Joel quickly twists his hand into your hair and pulls your head up, gasping as the hands under your chest curls into fists, pulling you flush with his pelvis as he slips inside of you in one quick motion, feeling the sting as his fingers dig into your skin.

“Smart mouth,” He comments, “so fuckin’ dumb for this cock your forget how to behave yourself, ain’t that right?”

You groan pathetically as he yanks at your hair, “You need me to do it for you, old man?”

You wiggle your ass slightly back against his cock, a harsh huff of breath through his nose before he’s dipping your head under the water as you both teeter near the edge of the rock, with the current you could feel the faint splashes against your skin, but he takes advantage of the gap and dunks your head in the chilled water for a moment, pulling you back up as you gasp.

“You done?” He asks, earning a pitched giggle in return, airy and light as you find the effort amusing, leading him closer toward the edge of the cliff, guiding him into a space that would help him use, without guilt or remorse for his actions.

“Depends,” You challenge, your cunt clenching around his cock as he shifts his hips, one movement from exploding as your clit throbbed intensely.

As a result, he dunks your head once more, this time for a moment longer than last and you find yourself coughing, sputtering air as your wet hair drips over your face, blinking the bleariness from your eyes.

"Always forget how much you like it when I hurt you,” Joel notes with a tone of admiration.

You hum in approval, wretched back by his unyielding hand as he pulls you flush with his chest, your hand flying into his hair as the other drifts over your clit, his hips pummeling into you at furious pace, teeth digging deep into your shoulder.

“C’mon, baby,” He coos, cradling your head in his hand as it lulls back, fingers curling your clit in desperation as his groans melt into your skin, “fuck—she’s squeezin’ me tight, you feelin’ that?”

His hips slow for a moment, deep thrusts as the head of his cock rubs against that nauseatingly sweet spot inside of you, eyes rolling back at the sensation as your orgasm takes hold, pulling Joel over the edge unexpectedly with your whimpering breaths of relief, held up entirely by his own brute strength as he fucks into you lazily, pumping you full of his cum with every thrust.

There’s an immediate exhaustion as instant satisfaction fills your body and his own.

Though, you know it won’t last.

It was temporary, an ease to the ache that had a mind of its own on when it would weaken.

Joel’s fingers drifting between your legs playfully as he scoops up his own cum as it spilled out of you, dripping down the inside of your thighs before he feeds it into your mouth, resting lazily against his frame as he rest on one arm and hip, smearing the slick against your tongue before he brings your mouth to his, a greedy exchange as he licks into your mouth, chuckling as you eagerly leaned in for more, moving forward as he pulled away.

“Easy, baby,” He chastises, “I’m not goin’ anywhere. I’m right here.”

–

You can’t avoid how vulnerable it feels to trek back naked, hair mussed and your steps mimicking a drunken state as you stumble, guided upstairs and into the shower attached to the office, small and compact but at least there was running water and amenities packed away in Joel’s pack for you to use, every inch of your skin overly sensitive as you wash away the grime, feeling Joel approach from behind, careful removing the soap from your hand.

“We’re all locked up,” He informs you, doing another quick sweep as you stepped inside of the shower—he’s increasingly more relaxed now, but the heightened senses linger, his gentle touch igniting the fire in your gut as you turn on him, watching as he lathered his chest in the soap before asking, “still botherin’ ya, huh?”

You reach for him silently, pressing your lips to his tentatively, his gentleness returning with the hand that rests against your hip, slowly extending to your back as he pulls you in.

You loved him like this even more—the soft hums he released as you tilted your head to kiss him, his lips parting as you snuck your tongue into his mouth, filtering your finger through his hair and meeting him with a similar, relaxed passion.

Silently, he guides your hand to the small shelf embedded into the corner of the shower and crowds you against the tile, descending on old, aching knees despite himself. He’d pay for it later, he knows he will, but the way your leg instinctively lifts and rests over his shoulder is enough to soothe the pain for a brief time, the intensity of desire coming in waves.

He licks a long strip up the center of your folds, sucking on your clit as he eventually turns the water off entirely, your moans reverberating off the ceramic, practiced flicks of his tongue bringing you near your end quickly, sneaking two of his fingers inside of you as you come, always amazed at how greedy you pussy was to consume whatever it was he gave you.

Fingers, tongue, cock—it didn’t matter.

He peers up at you through a half-lidded gaze, your fingers running through damp hair as he slowly rises to his feet, peppering kissing up and along your body as he stands again.

“Let’s get dried off,” He tells you, “I know you’re starvin’—worked up a big appetite after today.”

Joel carefully wraps the towel around your body as he does the same, tying it around his waist as he chuckles at your smile, “Guess you could say that.”

And just as you think the pollen has finally worn off, it comes like a fever in the night.

At first, you insist it must be a dream, the way Joel is so helplessly rutting against your backside, tucked tight against his chest as you shared the singular blanket and pillow despite the other bed. He wanted you closer, he wanted you near. 

You smell like honey and home—home like Jackson, that faint hint of charred wood from the fireplace that was constantly running in your home.

He’s willing and malleable to your movements as you guide him to his back, carefully slipping your underwear to the side as you guide him inside of you, a lazy pace as your chests meet, breathing into each other’s mouths as squeezes at any available skin he can access.

“So goddamn lucky,” He murmurs, “always takin’ care of me.”

His pointed thrust drove his words home, his nails digging into your hip as he came for the second time that night, nothing in his voice left to give as his throat felt raw, grunting pathetically as his seed spilled inside of you, a warmth radiating throughout and a sudden feeling of complete relief.

“I think we’re in the clear now,” You admit tiredly, rubbing your hands gently over his flushed chest as you glance up at him, both of you sighing at the loss as you move off of him and return to your previous position, barely registering the swipe of fabric between your legs as Joel cleaned you up without acknowledgment before he’s pulling you tight into his chest.

“Need to convince Tommy into letting me take up this patrol in the winter.”

You snicker quietly at his mischievous nature.

“Is that all I’m good for?” You tease playfully, “Scratchin’ that itch?”

“A couple of ‘em,” He admits honestly, pressing a soft kiss against the spot behind your ear, “s’good idea—as long as you don’t go breakin’ the rules and runnin’ off into the forest again—”

“Alright, alright, big guy,” You admonish, patting his head blindly over your shoulder as he shakes your hand away, “it’s not like you were really complaining about it.”

“Yeah, ‘cause I knew just where to look.”

Of course he did.

You scoff lightly, “Oh, I’m sure—you got me down pat, like a damn book, don’t you?”

“Correct, baby,” He answers, “Ain’t no hiding from me.”

It’s a comfort, knowing he was always near.

Joel would always find you, no matter the situation.

[strawberri-blonde]

YESSS MAAM HOLY SHIT THIS WAS AMAZING

save a horse

pairing: joel miller x reader

description: joel puts on his old cowboy getup and it gives you an idea.

tags: MDNI! smut, porn w/o plot, no outbreak au, established relationship, age gap, fem!reader, unprotected piv, riding, thigh riding, dirty talk (kinda?), nipple stuff (bcs i think joel miller is a boob man), praise kink kinda, little domestic.

a/n: my first joel miller smut! because i've been reading an ungodly amount, i can't stop thinking about him...

wc: 2.2k

“oh my god,” your voice comes out stunned as you walk in, kicking the door shut behind you.

a cowboy. sitting on your couch. well, joel dressed as a cowboy on your couch. 

he stands up with a grin, a little shy. “found this in my storage. from some years ago, can't believe it still fits me.”

flannel and jeans, old and a little faded–the jeans fit more snuggly against his thighs compared to his normal ones that you can't help but gawk. he's dressed the same way as always but this time there's a hat on his head and a belt around his hips adorned with a flashy buckle. his boots click lightly on the floor as he makes his way over to you, your eyes dart down to them.

“woulda wore the chaps too but that felt like overkill,” he says, dropping his hands to your waist. “d’ya like it?”

do you like it? you stare up at him a bit incredulous, at a loss for words as you check him out slowly. when you meet his gaze again, the shadow of his hat darkens the top of his face, yet you can still see the way his eyes glisten hopefully.

“yeah baby,” you whisper, leaning up to kiss his jaw, his beard scratching your lips slightly.

his grin widens and he pulls you closer, “good.”

“you did this for me?” 

“well, yeah. thought it’d be fun.”

“fun how?” you tease, slipping your fingers into his belt loops and tugging them.

“hate it when you work blue,” he grumbles, his small smirk telling you otherwise.

“no you don't,” you counter with a knowing smile. your lips part as if you're going to say something but they quickly shut.

joel eyes you curiously, eyebrows furrowed trying to figure you out, “spill.”

you hesitate for a moment, chewing the inside of your cheek before speaking.

“i've always wanted to ride a cowboy.”

his head cocks to the side, eyebrows raised, amused. “oh yeah?”

“yeah,” you breathe, nodding before jutting your head toward the couch. “sit please.”

you stand between his spread legs as he sits. leaning back, he lazily lifts a hand to unbutton your jeans, popping it off with ease as if he's done it a hundred times before–he has. when he pulls them down, you take your shirt off, leaving you in your underwear. 

“what's that thing people say? save a horse, ride a cowboy?” you ask and joel stares at you shamelessly, eyes dragging down and back up, utterly enticed.

“‘s a song by um- big ‘n rich,” he murmurs distractedly as he hones in on the little bow on your bra, right in the middle. you pinch the tip of his hat and lift it off his head, placing it on top of yours instead. fingers snake itself through his soft hair and guide his head back so he can look at you.

“hi,” your voice comes out quiet, coy. you smile down sweetly at him and you find him mirroring it. “hi darlin’.”

your gaze trails down his body again, stopping at his thighs. it's obscene how good they look in his old jeans, he's obviously filled into them well. the fabric stretches tight over his limbs, hugging them perfectly. what if you just-

with a finger in the waistband of your panties you pull them down in one swift motion, moving your body to hover over his right thigh, now in between your legs.

he groans something pained when he realises what you're about to do, hands flying back up to your waist to urge you down and body scooting forward so it's easier. you gasp when you lower yourself, legs parted just right that your clit brushes against the fabric of his jeans upon contact. 

fuck.

the patch of wet on the denim comes as a surprise when you draw your hips back, you didn't realise you were that wet. you rock your hips again, experimentally, and the friction is debilitating. you’d fall over if joel's hands weren’t keeping you steady.

speaking of them, he begins to guide you back and forth, and your eyes snap back to him in alarm. he gives you an encouraging nod, keep going. you have to hear it from him and he knows that. 

“cmon, baby. want you to feel good,” he spurs while nodding again, pushing down to apply more pressure, your mouth falls open in a gasp. but you take his words in tow and keep going. 

maybe it's a little pathetic how you rut against his leg, little whines escaping your parted lips, but he doesn't seem to mind. he's more than okay watching you like this as he rubs circles into your hip bone. 

“joel, i can't-” you sob, legs beginning to ache from the way you were perched. it feels so good but you’re quickly regretting how you chose to go about this, half sat and calves straining from the weight. you pout, lips trembling, and he looks absolutely wrecked by this.

what you hadn't realised was that every so often your knee pushed into his crotch, he was being stimulated as much as you. the hard-on he's sporting pushes against the confines of his jeans, he’d gladly come untouched if he didn’t want to be inside you as badly as he did. 

“yeah, you can, baby,” he grits through his teeth, “gimme this one, want you t’come first.”

his fingers start tweaking your nipple under your bra, and god, he starts flexing his thigh. he hopes the added incentive will help push you over the edge. to his delight, the oh so familiar feeling starts to build embarrassingly fast in the pit of your stomach. 

your head falls back in a high, baring your neck to him. this in turn causes the hat to slowly slip off your head, he smiles and tucks it back on, repeating the motion of his thigh, bouncing ever so slightly.

“oh fuck. fuck. fuck-” you finish with a whine, body collasping into itself. joel reaches out to hold you to him as your hips stutter. his head dips to your neck, kissing the skin softly as you come down. 

“there ya go. did so good for me, angel,” he speaks into your skin.

you get off his thigh and slump onto the couch with a groan, ignoring the startlingly dark patch you leave on his jeans. you're catching your breath when you nudge him playfully with your elbow, he's equally leaned back, head tipped to the side, looking at you with awe in his eyes.

“i think your bad joints are contagious, old man.”

this makes him scoff. you take the hat off, placing it on his lap before bringing both knees to your chest and squeezing to relieve some of the tension, they really did ache. to this, he laughs and drops his head to your shoulder.

“what? i'm serious, they hurt,” you defend, albeit a little petulantly.

“but you came?”

“yes,” you respond, dragging the word out in exaggeration.

“and ya felt good?”

“yes, miller,” you grumble, nosing the hair of his that tickled your face.

“i don't see any problem in a little hurt, s’what i go through every time,” he mutters quietly.

“every time, huh?”

you feel him nod dutifully and you chuckle. his age usually made itself known after sex–either by complaining about his hips or his knees cracking after a taxing session of eating you out, not that he minded.

he lifts his head and shifts, leaning in. “so when ya gonna ride this cowboy?”

impatient, but he had been waiting.

you look down to his crotch, still painfully hard, and the corners of your mouth pull down in faux sympathy.

“poor baby,” you coo, taunting although he knows you’re teasing. “want me to fuck you?”

his eyes meet yours in searing eye contact, deadpan, but the way his eyes crinkle at the corners betray him, he’s trying not to smile. with a curt dip of his chin, he nods, yes. 

and who are you to deny him?

you nudge him to lean back again and put the damn hat back on his head. god, he looks sexy. 

you settle on taking his pants off, leaving them and the belt pooled around his feet. and when you unbutton his shirt, you stop him from taking it off completely–liking how his skin peeked down the middle. you settle on his lap, legs bracketing his thighs. you kiss him, sweet and gentle, head tilted more than usual because of the hat. his hands drift up your back to the clasp of your bra, quickly unfastening it and letting it fall. you slip your hand under his boxers and palm him, you like the weight of him your hands.

“baby-” he drawls. “please.”

“i know, i know.”

you pull him out of his boxers and rise to your knees, positioning yourself accordingly. you swipe the tip through your folds a few times, relishing in the groan it earns you before pushing in, tantalisingly slow. 

you brace yourself on his shoulders, it's always a stretch with joel. when he's bottomed out, you let out a deep long winded sigh. you stay like that for a moment, eyes closed. the angle is maddening and the way your weight settles on top of him drives him crazy.

you tentatively rise and sink back down slowly. fuck. you do it again and again. joel shoots you a proud grin, his hands back at your waist to help you. a breathy moan escapes you when the tip of him drags against your g-spot on the ascent .

“attagirl. there she is," joel mumbles, always keen on your sounds. “feels good, huh?”

“mhm, feels- so good, joel,” you sigh, rocking back and forth now.

“i bet,” he responds with a grunt, “can feel you squeezin’ around me.”

you whimper at that, back arching and effectively pushing your tits closer to his face. he tries to lean closer but the hat stops him, hitting your sternum.

“stupid fuckin’ hat,” he grumbles, tossing it away. it flies somewhere beside the coffee table and you laugh, ducking down to kiss him as he continues making incoherent annoyed noises. a hat is not going to deny him what he wants.

he hums low against your lips, trailing his kisses down to your neck. he nips at your skin, placing a peck to your collarbone before reaching his destination. his lips close around your nipple, hand securing itself between your shoulders to hold you firm against his mouth. 

“oh fuck,” you breathe. you look down to find him already looking back up at you and the sight is depraved, downright filthy. 

you card a hand through his greying hair and tighten, speeding up the motion of your hips. his free hand tweaks the neglected nipple and he is everywhere. you can’t handle it. a weak grunt sounds from you and he knows.

“joel please-” you cut yourself off with a broken moan as he begins to suck, pinching the sensitive bud between his teeth. he switches over to the other one and repeats, leaving you a whining mess in his lap.

“s'okay, baby. i got you,” he coos, lifting his head up to kiss you again. he pulls your body closer, holding you to his chest, bracing you. because before you know it his hips jump to meet yours, fucking up into you. 

he swallows every lewd sound you make, responding with a quick snap of his hips. “always take me so well, pretty girl. like you're made for this cock, huh?”

“mhm, i love it,” you slur.

he grins, breath growing heavier as his peak nears. he recognises the expression on your face instantly, eyebrows pinched together and eyes fighting to be closed, he knows you're in the same boat and he’ll be damned if he doesn't get you to cum first.

“you close, angel?” he whispers, forehead pressed to yours. when you nod, he hums sympathetically, fucking you harder. his hips slap against yours incessantly and you let out a muffled cry, holding onto him for dear life. 

“that’s it, take it,” he encourages as he feels your walls clamp down. “cum for me, baby.”

your nails leave crescent shaped imprints on his shoulder, back, anywhere you can hold onto as you tip over the edge, keening loudly, it borders on a scream. 

his orgasm quickly follows as his hips stutter, spilling into you with a shudder and a groan. he lazily fucks into you a few more times, riding out the aftershocks before stilling.

the two of you sit there, breathless, skin sticking to each other . his head dips and falls onto your chest as he hugs you to his body. his breath comes out in soft puffs against your skin, warm. 

“that was...,” you mumble, heart finally slowing down.

he chuckles, dry and low that it makes you shiver. “yeah.”

“joel?”

he lifts his head up, eyes soft and admiring when he looks at you. he hums in acknowledgment.

“wear the chaps next time.”

he laughs again, something heartier as he takes in your face, deadly serious. he kisses your chin, “yes ma’am.”

reblogs and replies are appreciated :) | m.list

[thechaoticcherub]

You ever think about like really think about what it would feel like to have Joel’s hands slide down your forearms? His thick fingers dragging along your skin, his callouses catching on every bump on your soft flesh. Your heart leaps because you think he’s about to hold your hand but instead Joel’s steady, meaty fingers hook around your wrist. He brings one arm over your head, pinning it against the wall while his other hand distracts you by caressing your free wrist, almost lovingly, only for the touch be replaced by his fingers manacling your wrist. Joel’s grip is like a vice, pads of his fingers press into your pulse point and you can feel it hammering against them. You give an experimental tug but your hand barely moves, his forearm tightening. Joel brings it up to meet the other. He moves enough to smother both your wrists without meeting much resistance from you. He anchors you there against the wall with one hand holding both hands above your head, his blazing gaze meets yours and you are a weak, helpless puddle below him. You ever think about that?

Cause i sure as fuck do.

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[maiamore]

STAR-STRUCK

Pairing: Joel Miller x F!Reader

Rating: 18+ | W/C: 5k

Summary: You’re a fresh-faced production assistant for known action star Joel Miller. He’s not quite what you expected–but neither are you.

Tags: actor!joel x production assist reader, action film set, no use of y/n, rough/dom Joel, use of the word ‘kid’, mirror sex, rough sex, unprotected pinv, mentions of injuries & violence, Joel does his own stunts, public sex, bdj (big-dicked-Joel), Joel is not nice in this fic, more untagged read at your own discretion A/N: oof this a long one. also! i swear i've seen something similar relating to the mandalorian reference. if anyone knows the fic, pleaaaase let me know

This wasn’t what you’d imagined your life to look like. 

For the majority of your adult life, you’d clung to a glittering, idealistic vision of your future. You’d blame it on those countless movie marathons with your dad–the late nights, the worn-out couch and the satisfying click of the DVD player setting the stage for your ambitions. You’d dreamed of being a part of the magic. The glitz, the glamour, the art of it all. 

Directors like Ridley Scott, Martin Scorsese, John McTiernan captured your adolescent heart, fanning the flames of your Hollywood dreams.

You knew coming into this that it was going to be far from easy. God knows you’d paid your dues living in NYC after having moved from your small town–sharing a tiny shoebox of an apartment with three others, taking multiple part-time gigs, hustling to finally land a Production Assistant (PA) role.

And now here you were. Accommodations comped, flown to Atlanta for the shoot of some action movie you weren’t even allowed to know the title of thanks to the NDA you’d signed.

It was suspenseful, sure, but not in the sexy, thrilling way you’d imagined. More like in the “what fresh hell did I sign up for” sort of way.

“So you’ll be handling scheduling, coordinating, and helping the stylists. And making sure his overall well-being is met.”

You shuffled behind Jonah, the PA you were supposedly replacing. It was nearly overwhelming. Already built streets, custom housings, all wrapped up in a larger than life sound stage. Everyone was in their own world, working on their own tasks.

Normal people might have felt small and unseen. But you? You were still star-struck. You could be a part of something so much bigger than you, and that thought excited you. 

“7am every morning. You’ll need to be on standby to help Joel with everything he needs. So here’s the schedule.” 

More papers were being shoved to you, your arms slowly vanishing beneath an ever-growing stack. You scanned it, eyes twitching in dread. 

Every fifteen damned minutes had its own designation. Was this a movie or a military operation?

“Right! Got that. So…who exactly am I…” You squint at the bolded text on freshly printed paper, still warm to touch. “Wiping sweat at 16:45…for?”

Jonah halts mid-strut, turning back to you like you’d just insulted his entire bloodline. “What…do you mean? You don’t know who you’re working for?”

“I do.” You shoot back defensively. “Well–okay. No. Not really. I was given an NDA, so I’m–”

“It was a yes or no question, hun.”

Suddenly, you were grateful to J-hole leaving. Not so much of replacing his long ass list of endless tasks, though. 

He stops before the stylist’s station, gesturing to a cluttered board, displaying headshots and costume references for your apparent “boss.” As you step closer, your breath catches in your throat.

No way. No fucking way. 

“Joel fucking Miller?”

Your fingers, almost acting on their own, plucked one of the profile shots from the board. Joel’s broad frame was practically sculpted.  His Special Forces uniform taut over his muscles, probably for the character he was playing. Another close-up featured his face smudged with faux grime and fake injuries, his expression hardened and grim. 

And then…there were the less clothed test shots. Your gaze betrayed you, dipping to the dark trail of neatly trimmed curls disappearing beneath his belt.

Your head snapped up so fast it was a miracle you didn’t pull a muscle, as though the sheer force of willpower could exorcise the horny demon possessing you.

Jonah grins at your obvious surprise. Sighing dreamily at the profile shots of him, side views and costume shots.“Yep. Now. It isn’t going to be a problem with you now is it? We had to fire the old girl cuz’ she attempted to–nevermind. Don’t wanna get into that. It was a whole debacle. You can look it up in the files under the Miller versus Nancy lawsuit.”

You glanced at Jonah, confusion knitting your brow before returning the photo to the desk. Honestly? You probably wouldn’t have blamed this Nancy. Joel had been the blueprint for your sexual awakening. 

As fucked as it was. Considering he was closer in age to your dad than your own.

Watching him star in films by the greats back in high school had left you fantasizing, his smoldering intensity seared into your brain. God. You were going to need the entire night to mentally prepare for this.

“You tellin’ that story again?” The voice behind you sent a shiver up your spine–it was the kind of voice that wrapped around you like a thick yarned blanket on a cold night. And the kind of voice you fantasized about when you were grinding against your pillow.

You froze, every damned nerve on high alert. Turning slowly.

Joel Miller stands there. Resurrected from the photos itself.

He was dressed like he’d just walked off a lazy Sunday pickup game. Grey athletic shorts that hung low on his hips, revealing sturdy, hairy legs that somehow made him seem even more rugged. A black t-shirt clung to his frame, dampened at the collar with sweat. Navy cap sitting snug on his head.  

You couldn’t stop yourself from shamelessly dragging your eyes from the damp curls peeking out at the nape of his neck to his thighs. 

He scratches his stubbled jaw, his eyes sweeping the room before landing on you. They paused, and you realized–a little too late–that he’d caught you gawking.

Joel nudges his head towards you. “This her?”

Jonah nods, handing Joel a call sheet. “All new and sparkly.”

He looks you over–not in a predatory way, but like he was cataloging every detail. Dark and steady. And it lands on your shirt. For a split second his brows lifted, just barely.

“You watch that one?” 

Your brain stutters and you look down, realizing you’d stupidly worn your Mandalorian graphic tee. His face–or well, Din Djarin's helmeted face, was plastered across your chest along with the iconic Star Wars logo.

“Oh! Um. yeah,” you stammer, tugging the hem of the cotton as if the ink would magically disappear. 

Great. You meet the man you had dozens of posters of and you were stuttering like a fucking idiot.

“Big fan. Of the show. And, um, the movies. And, you know, your–” Joel holds up a palm, silencing your rambling. “Right.” He sounded amused, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “...‘preciate it.”

Joel never liked change. It was ironic, given his line of work. An actor, in its nature, had him slipping into new roles and personas on a constant basis. But no matter how many characters he played, he'd preferred the familiarity of a constant crew. 

So the news that Jonah was leaving and that his replacement was a fresh out of film school rookie had Joel grumbling for days.

Then he saw you.

Maybe it was the way you looked at him, like you were seconds away from fainting. Or maybe it was the shirt. That damn shirt.

You clearly hadn’t gotten the memo about dressing for long hours on set. Instead of the usual hoodie and less than glamorous foam sneakers combo, you were rocking a cropped baby tee stretched taut across your chest. 

His gaze dipped, almost involuntarily, taking in the rest of you. The way your bootcut jeans sat low and snug on your hips—to the bunch of keys and a juicy grape chapstick hung on a carabiner attached to your belt loop. 

When you shifted nervously, the movement sent a glint of light flickering from your stomach. A silver charm, shaped like a star, dangled from your belly button. He caught himself mid-thought, forcing his eyes back to your face, but the damage was done.

You weren’t as innocent as you looked. He’d figured out that much. 

Your fuck-ups hadn’t gotten you fired. Not yet, at least. Somehow, you were still here. Holding onto your job by a thread.

It still felt surreal, working for Joel Miller. You’d spent years watching this man on screen. All his works & press interviews. It seemed pretty fucking unreal to think that you now had his name saved to your phone like no big deal.

Given you weren’t able to tell anyone about it, though the purple vibrator that sat in your bedside drawer was pretty much the only thing that knew his name by now.

In the weeks that followed, you’d fallen into a rhythm with him. There were rules–unspoken ones. You didn’t ask too many questions, didn’t hover too close, and didn’t take it personally when he barked orders or dismissed you with a grunt. Joel wasn’t an easy man to work for.

What was even worse, was that in Joel's eyes, you were probably the least sexual entity to have ever existed. It stung, especially when you considered how much of your mind he occupied.

“Give me a…second. Dunno how these things work.”

You’d shifted uncomfortably, dropping to your knees to Joel’s horror. You sat on your thighs with a huff. Attempting to gather the hem of Joel’s pants to tuck into the army garters.

 “Christ. You don’t hafta…” Joel’s throat tightened as he fought the sudden, unwelcome heat pooling low in his gut.

“Huh?”

It was distracting, the sight of you so close. On your fuckin’ knees no less. Joel tugs around his belt. He snaps his fingers to catch your attention and you look up at him, with wide eyes. 

His thumbs twisting around the two metal hooks of the thin garter until it connects. “Just hook em’ together, kid.” 

You nodded at his words. Finally managing to neatly tuck it into his boots. 

Though from his vantage point, something else catches his eye–a small mark etched into your skin. Black ink at the nape of your neck, a star, delicate like the charm that hung from your belly button. 

“Ya got a thing for stars?” 

You blinked a few times before the words finally registered. Was he really starting a conversation when you were on the ground like this? You notice the slight nudge of his head towards your left. 

Instinctively, you cupped around the back of your neck. “Oh..yeah. I mean…it’s pretty and all.” You had to admit, Joel’s childlike curiosity over the ink on your body all of a sudden caught you off guard. 

He raises a brow at your admission. “What’s the point of puttin’ it at a place you can’t see. Seems pretty pointless.” 

“Didn’t put it there for me to see.” You say with a shrug. 

Joel’s jaw ticks when he realises the insinuation behind your words. He drags his hand down his face, opting to finally keep his mouth shut when the images conjured in his mind couldn’t be held back anymore. 

You didn’t quite notice his distress till you looked up after the lengthy silence that settled. 

The imperceptible twitch in his crotch area catches your attention. Your lips parted to stifle a gasp of surprise. 

Was he— “Jus’ get the hell up, kid.”

The respectable thing to do was to go on about his job. It was humiliating enough that you’d caught him in a painfully embarrassing position. 

But Joel Miller learned two new things about himself.

First, he didn’t quite mind the soft, lingering scent of strawberries and vanilla you seemed to carry. A quiet, comforting sweetness that seemed to cling to the air whenever you were near.

The second? Well, the second was far more troublesome. 

The thoughts that plagued him at night when he was fucking his fist, or someone else for that matter. It didn’t help that he was aware of such vivid and intimate details of you. It fucked with his head how desperately he wanted to draw pleasure out of you and stain that pretty little dainty star you had on your belly with ropes of his cum. 

The culmination of it all was taxing. But somehow? He managed to keep those thoughts at bay.

When the director finally called cut for the day, Joel stepped off set, muscles aching and shirt damp with sweat. He scans the area out of habit. 

Jonah would’ve been there by now–towel, water & phone in hand, ready for the usual barrage of calls and texts he needed to deal with.

Instead, it was you. 

Joel exhaled sharply, dragging a hand down his face as the realization hit him again. Right. Jonah was gone.

“You don’t have to look like the world’s ended, Joel.” 

He doesn’t answer you, not at first. 

“It’s not like I’m going to tell people that you—“

Joel seats himself in his chair loudly. A silent warning for you to not go there. He lets out a long, drawn out exhale. Folding his arms tightly. “Kid. Don’t know whatcha think you saw–”

That again. Kid. Was that how he saw you? You had half the mind to admit what the idea of it did to you—the idea that he might’ve gotten hard at the thought of you. 

“Hate that I even have to ask.” You begin, not letting him finish his thought. “You realize I’m not.” You were dabbing a little harder now, tossing out the used makeup wipes in the trash beside you. 

“Y’are when I’ve got a decade over ya.” He says simply. Wincing at your harsh gestures. “Don’t need the complications.” He pushes your hand away, his deep brown eyes stayed locked on you, searching, warning. 

“Leave well enough alone, got that?”

The following weeks on set proved to be grueling, even by Joel’s standards. His reputation preceded him. A stubborn, self-reliant actor who insisted on doing his own stunts. For the studio, it was a nightmare. Higher insurance premiums, a ballooning budget, and his manager losing sleep over the what-ifs. 

For Joel, it was just how he’d always worked.

But his body wasn’t what it used to be. He could feel the aftermath of his aching limbs with every roll, leap, and landing. By the end of each day, he was a drained man.

The tension on set that evening was suffocating, the kind that made every sound sharper, every movement feel urgent. 

Joel’s stunt wasn’t supposed to go wrong. It rarely did. But today was different. 

You’d seen the way his jaw tightened with every take, the exhaustion etched into the lines of his face. Monitoring him from the sidelines when the cameras were still rolling. 

Then it happened.

A sickening crunch, the unmistakable sound of something gone wrong. Joel hit the ground hard, and the set erupted in chaos. The director’s voice echoed through the sound stage, “Cut! Jesus. Check on Joel. Now!” as the crew scrambled toward him.

You froze, the towel and water bottle in your hands suddenly feeling useless. Your feet moved on instinct, but the crowd around Joel was essentially a wall. Blocking you out. 

You couldn’t get through.

“Back off. M’fine.” Joel’s voice cuts through the commotion, frustration dripping from every word. He swatted away helping hands, gaze darting through the crowd. His face twisted in anger, not from pain but from the lack of order.

“Where the hell is she?” he grumbled. 

You hesitated, your stomach knotting. His eyes finally locked onto you, and his expression darkened. “You. Get over here.”

The weight of his command pulled you forward, even as your gut screamed to stay back, letting someone more qualified deal with it.  You shuffled behind him as you’d maneuvered out of the crowd and back into his trailer. Eyes widening at the sight of blood seeping through a tear in his shirt.

“Joel, I–…shouldn’t we call–”

“Don’t need someone else,” he interrupted, his tone biting but strained. “Just. I’ll tell ya what to do. Kits in the left drawer.”

“Okay,” you murmured, trying to keep your voice steady, wracking your brain for memories of those first aid videos you’d seen on YouTube. Film school did not prep you for this. 

As you grabbed the first aid kit, you watched Joel slump against the trailer walls. You stood there, awkwardly, watching the scarlet blossom against his abdomen.

He looks at you for a moment before exhaling. “Y’know, you can ask n’ not jus’ stand there like a mute, darlin’.”

The witty remark dies in your throat when he yanks his shirt off. Effectively shutting your brain down entirely. You stare down at his body in its’ full glory. Damp with sweat and streaked with dirt. Blood smeared in jagged trails down his arm to his abdomen, mingling with grime from the fall. Joel pulls out the antiseptic wipes from the first aid kit, handing it to you.

“Shit, Joel. That looks fucking bad.” You hissed out, as though you were the one with a darkened gash on your midriff when you attempted to wipe the first streak off.

“Why…” Fuck. Your voice was cracking. “Why didn’t you just let someone else help you?”

He huffed, his dark eyes flicking to yours for a moment in amusement before looking away. “Ain’t worth makin’ a scene over somethin’ small.”

“This isn’t small, Joel,” you protested, frowning as you uncovered a deeper gash on his side. “You should’ve let the medics handle it.”

“Don’t need all that fuss.” His tone was clipped, defensive. “Been doin’ my own stunts for years. Ain’t stoppin’ now ‘cause of a scratch.”

“This isn’t a scratch.”

Joel’s gaze flicked to yours again, a flash of something unreadable in his expression. “Look, I get it, alright? But I don’t need everyone actin’ like I’m fallin’ apart. I’m fine.”

He knew deep down that his ego was far too big to admit that he actually needed help. 

“Stubborn,” you murmured under your breath, shaking your head as you pressed a clean pad against the wound.

“What was that?” 

“Nothing.”

Joel’s patience was paper thin, but he bit back whatever comment was forming on his tongue. “Enough of that. Just…tie it up” He sighs, strained, handing you a roll.

You nodded, fumbling with the bandage as your heart pounded in your ears. The wound was deeper than you’d thought now that it was clean, and the sight of it made your stomach churn.

“C’mon, darlin’. Ain’t got all day.”

You secured the bandage, tying it off with a bunny-eared bow before sitting back on your heels. Fingertips drumming on your knees, seemingly proud of yourself. 

Joel glanced down, his brows furrowing as he took in your work. “What the hell is that?”

“What?” you say defensively. “You told me to tie it.”

“Looks like ya wrapped a damn present,” he muttered. 

“Fine, I’ll redo it–”

“Don’t bother.” He caught your hands before you could move, holding them in place. “It’ll hold.”

The silence that followed proved to further intensify the air between the two of you. His grip on your wrist was firm but not harsh, his eyes locked on yours. You didn’t dare to move. 

The curve of his nose grazed your cheeks, the faintest touch sent a shiver down your spine, but he had enough sense to move away. 

You however, didn’t think, didn’t hesitate when you leaned in, capturing his lips in a quick, tentative kiss.

It seemed to have caught the both of you off guard.

Joel froze, the kiss barely lasting a second before he pulls back, his expression unreadable. For a moment, you thought he’d tell you off.

But instead, he leans forward. Kissing you harder, deeper. A palm slips to the back of your neck to anchor you in place.

With nowhere else to put your hands, you placed them on his thighs, gripping them tightly.

The kiss wasn’t gentle. It was desperate. His lips moved against yours with an urgency that made your head spin. His other hand gripped your waist, drags you closer until your knees pressed against the side of his hips.

But just as quickly as it started, Joel stops. He pulls back with a bated breath. His hands slip from where he held your neck. “Shit,” he mutters, his jaw clenching as he looks away. “Shit.”

You blinked, your heart racing as you tried to catch up. Trying not to let the disappointment show in your voice. “Joel–”

“Stop. I shouldn’t have.” The curtness in his tone startled you. But you frowned. Trailing behind him as he gets up. 

“Well you did.” You blocked his path towards the door of his trailer. Eyes filled with a burning persistence of him once again denying you. 

“Don’t push it, kid.”

You’d practically stepped up to him confrontationally. “—Or better yet, you gonna tell me that I imagined it?”

“You can’t do all of that and then just back off.”

It frustrated you to no end when he stonewalled you like this. Like you were some irrational kid who couldn’t read between the lines.

When Joel finally does speak, he merely says your name. With a finality you couldn’t quite refute. You bite the inside of your cheeks. Feeling humiliated at being shot down when you’d thrown yourself onto someone like this.

“Fucking coward.”

This time, you didn’t mumble. 

Joel visibly grimaces at that. You feel his hand grip painfully around your wrist, stopping you from leaving the trailer.

You let out a choked gasp when his hands shoot out to grip around your throat before you could even react. Forcing you backwards at every step. Instinctively, you grab around his wrists to loosen his grip. 

“Hey!” 

He leans down to your level, lips grazing against your ears in a deep whisper. “Fuckin’ coward, huh?”  You'd pushed all the right buttons. He'd held back for so damned long and he didn't have it in him to hold back. Not after you'd run your mouth.

You let out a shaky exhale. Teeth grit painfully. You should’ve felt scared. Horrified, really. But the tenderness in his hold makes you feel conflicted about what you should’ve felt. 

Joel’s grip held you firm. Tipping your head up. “Y’want me to fuck you that bad?”

A soft whimper leaves your lips when his back presses against you. The hardness rubbed up against your core. You shudder at the sensation, nodding weakly. 

His rough palms circle around your waist, turning you over the dressing table until your pelvis sat flush against it. The grip around your throat swiftly turns to a vice grip around your jaw. 

He tugs at your jaw. “Words, sweetheart.”

“Ugh—yes.…need you..tofuckme.” You manage through gritted teeth. It irked you to say it, but you had a feeling he wouldn’t have let up.

Joel tugs you to look up into your own reflection. Your gaze immediately sours, attempting to look away. 

“C’mon now. S’a pretty sight.” He tuts. His other palm drags the fabric of your top up harshly, pulling it up along with your bra. Your tits spilling at the notion. A gasp slips from your lips. 

“Joel!” Your palms tightens into fists on the table at the obscene sight. 

So much for someone who didn’t want to give in.

It doesn’t faze Joel, merely letting out a low whistle. Kneading them in his palms. “Perfect fuckin’ tits.”

He presses a kiss down the sides of your neck. Twisting around your nipples till they hardened between his fingers. You let out a pathetic whine at the sensation. Holding his arms firmly, you squirm as he nips your shoulder. 

“Could you just—“ Your protests don't stop him in the slightest. Nudging your head a little to give him room. He takes it as a sign to bite down on your neck, bruising you with hickeys all over. 

Joel seems to catch your nervous flickers towards the doors. He shifts your hair over one side of your shoulder. Thumbing over the ink on the nape of your neck. You hear the sound of the zipper, briefly catching sight of him shucking his pants down. He winces slightly at the dull pain shooting across his abdomen, but the desperation of needing you was far greater than the pain.

Somehow, the idea of not being able to see it made it so much worse. And as though he reads your mind, he presses his jaw against the side of your head. “Relax.” The tenderness in his tone through the roughness does manage to soothe your nerves. You nod slowly.

Your hips jolt as the cold air hits your body when Joel dips a finger under the waistband of your sweats. He teasingly brushes his fingers lightly against your skin before swiftly tugging them down to your thighs along with the flimsy cotton panties you had on. “A little warning would help.” You bite back, finally losing patience at his tactless gestures. 

Joel meets your gaze through the mirror. A lopsided smirk quirking up his lips. “Right. My bad.” You could feel the disingenuity in his tone before he taps the length of his cock against your lower back. The gesture almost mocking.

A shudder runs down your spine. He was big, unlike anything you’ve experienced before. 

He hikes your hip backwards and flush against him. Your palms instinctively clutches around the edge of the table. Joel takes his time, sliding his hard cock between the softness of your thighs. The sensation nearly sends you doubling over. Watching the weeping tip poke through in the reflection, slightly smearing his precum on your clit.

You squeeze your legs together subconsciously, earning a wince from him. He was certain he could come just from fucking your thighs like this. The pace he took now bordered on torturous. Teasing you with everything but giving you nothing. 

You took it upon yourself to stretch your hands between your thighs in an attempt to notch him in you. You were aching. Badly.

Joel lets out a grunt of disapproval, yanking your wrist to pin it behind your back. Leaving you to steady your body weight onto your other hand. “Eager little thing. Daddy ain’t ever teachya patience?”

His snark burned in your cheeks. It was a futile effort. He could see every single expression you were making from your reflection and he fucking thrived on it. Joel takes a hold of his cock, lining it up against your soaked cunt, he slowly drags your slick over his length. You were soaking him before he even started.

Your head dips, clinging onto the fleeting pleasure every time the tip of his cock bumped against your clit. 

“Joel–please just fuck me...”

So he does.

Before you could even catch your breath, he snaps his hips into you. “Deep breath f’me, sweetheart.” If not for his grip around your wrist, you would’ve probably face planted into the dresser. 

The sting from the intrusion of his thickness had your cunt tightening with every move he makes, squeezing the absolute life out of his dick.

Your hair falls in front of your face as he mercilessly fucks you. You swore you could feel him almost grazing the entrance of your cervix. “T-Too..too fucking...big.”

Joel tips his head at the sight of your pussy swallowing his cock, probably only halfway. He doesn’t say anything yet. Only humming at your whines. “I know baby.”

You look down shakily at where the both of you were connected, the lines between pain and pleasure blurring to the point you hadn’t registered the tears prickling the corner of your eyes. “Hurts…”

Joel seems to feel a tinge of empathy at the way you were struggling to take him, hiccuping through your whines. His gaze flickers to the way your pretty little face scrunched up, doing your fucking best like the good girl you were. A slight groan leaves his lips involuntarily.

All rationality be fucked.

His hand grips around your throat, forcing you to look up at the mirror. 

As humiliating as it was, you couldn’t help but feel increasingly turned on at the sight of his cock fucked into your dripping pussy in squelches. “See that? Takin’ me so ’fuckin’ well.” He sighs into your shoulder. 

The praise has you lifting your hips higher, on your tippy toes–forcing a deeper arch at your hips. With how slick your thighs were, you weren’t even sure yourself if you did come.

Nothing but the sounds of his pelvis snapping into your ass in rhythmic, hard slaps. He buries his head in the crook of your shoulder. And you hear him audibly grunt this time. Thrusting into you at a punishing pace. 

Joel could feel the all familiar tightening in his sack, he knew he was close. The sheer suction your soft, slick walls were providing him was nothing he’d ever felt before. He lets go of your throat, both palms gripped around your hips, painful enough to leave a mark. The table rattles under your combined weights and Joel’s frantic thrusts, products rolling and clattering onto the ground. He noses your cheeks, stubble rubbing against your pulse point. “Perfect fuckin’ pussy…” 

You offer a slight whimper at his words, meeting the intensity his thrusts weakly. You both still at the shuffle of footsteps approaching the trailer.

 The sharp knocks against the trailer door has the both of you whipping your head towards it. 

“Everything okay?”

Your heartbeat thuds in your ears loudly. The door wasn’t locked.

Joel doesn't answer, simply looking at you. Your expression twists in frustration. Mouthing the words ‘me?’. There wasn't time to deliberate. Your lips parts to speak, barely able to form coherent words. “Y..yeah. A-All good.” 

“Right…productions cutting it close. So if Joel’s oookaaay…”

You cursed internally at how persistent whoever behind the doors was. But nearly see white when Joel fully slams into you. Deeper than before. You couldn’t control the sharp cry that leaves your lips, but it is soon muffled by Joel’s rough palms covering your mouth.

“M’fine. Give us ten.”

Your tears pool around his hand. Gripping onto his wrists when he continues to pound into you at a faster intensity. You were whining by the time the crewmate finally left. Joel pulls you against his chest. Audibly groaning into your ears now. “Fuck. M’close.” 

You nodded dumbly, not even sure just what at anymore. Shaky hands clinging onto him like a lifeline. With a final rut, his hips stutter, ropes of his cum painting the insides of your walls.

He held it there for a couple of seconds before pulling out. All messy and soaked with your arousal.

You let out a strained exhale at the feeling of loss as your pussy convulses around nothing, pearlescent liquid dripping from your reddened cunt. 

Joel sighs wantonly at the sight. With the state of you, he was briefly worried that he might’ve gone too hard. And then he sees it. Your smaller, manicured hands, pushing more of his dripping come into your folds. Yeah. Joel was fucked.

[munsonsmixtapes]

Can I pls get Joel x reader where Joel is just absolutely feral and obsessed with reader and just loves cuddling up to her whenever he gets to chance and always try to creep a hand under her shirt just to feel her.

This can be smut or not smut, up to you if you want to make it that way!

Thank youu

You close the door behind you as you enter the house you share with Joel. He's asleep on the couch as usual, snoring away. You almost want to wake him for dinner, but you don't want to disturb him. He didn't sleep well last night so you want to let him get as much rest as he can.

You pass him to turn the tv off but his arm reaches out and wraps around you before you can get there. with both arms, he pulls you down on top of him, in desperate need of your attention.

"Joel," you let out a laugh. "I have to make dinner." You lean up to give him a stern look and he just smiles, the exact one that makes you melt every time you see it.

"Make it in a minute," he responds as his hand reaches up to stroke your hair. "Just lay here with me for a while." You can't say no to him so you lie back down on his chest, his heart beating loudly in your ear.

His hands slide under your shirt just like always, his rough hands resting against your bare lower back. Most times he's doing it to cop a feel, but not tonight. He just wants to lie with his girl. He presses a kiss to the top of your head as his hands move up and down your back, the thing he always does as a way to bring you comfort.

You lean up and stare at him, his warm brown eyes boring into yours, that dopey grin appearing on his lips. You lean down to kiss him and he eagerly returns it, smiling against your lips. He hasn't kissed you since you left this morning and in his opinion, that was far too long to go without one.

“I missed you,” he murmurs.

“I missed you too,” you reply, your tongue swiping along his bottom lip to deepen the kiss, but his stomach grumbles before you can go for it.

You pull away much to Joel’s disappointment. You get up off of him and help him to his feet, pulling him along to the kitchen.

He’s clingy as ever as you make dinner, standing behind you, his arms around your waist while he drops kisses to your shoulder, whispering sweet nothings into your ear. And once dinner is made, you sit right next to each other at Joel’s suggestion, hand in hand while you eat. And there’s no place either of you would rather be.

[strangererotica]

EXPLICIT CONTENT • MINORS DNI

Joel Miller x Reader • oral (f receiving) • p in v sex

Thanks to everyone who voted! ♥️

The kitchen in the cabin you shared with Joel smelled of pancakes and maple syrup. He’d just finished preparing breakfast for two, as he did every Sunday morning. The remaining oil in the skillet sizzled as Joel switched off the stove. His hands were dirty with batter; he reached for a clean towel on the counter and wiped them, before turning the corner to the hallway.

Joel lingered in the bedroom doorway a moment, watching you sleep. It was mostly quiet, with only the distant sound of birds chirping outside. A few strands of amber sunshine peeked through the beige curtains on the window, touching the thick quilt that covered you. Joel’s lips pulled into a grin as he observed you in silence. He wondered for a moment how after all the mistakes he’d made in his life, the universe had somehow allowed him the gift of redemption, in the form of a beautiful young woman like you…

It was a gift Joel didn’t believe he deserved. He was dedicated to making sure he earned your love and trust in him every day he was lucky enough to have with you. Because as Joel had been made painfully aware, the things we cherish most can be taken away in an instant. A moment never passed without Joel being grateful for the gift of you in his life.

He approached the bed quietly, not wanting to wake you just yet. There was something so sweet about the way you were sleeping, one hand cupping your cheek, the other laying against the pillow. Joel knelt down beside the bed, resting his elbow on his knee. He carefully brushed back a few strands of hair from your forehead. You stirred slightly, a soft sigh leaving your parted lips.

Joel stroked your cheek gently with the back of his hand. “Hey honey,” he whispered. “It’s time to get up.”

You groaned slightly, smiling a little at hearing Joel’s voice, even in your sleep. He waited a moment before trying again. “Sweetheart. Breakfast’s ready. Come on, let me see those pretty eyes.”

Your grin deepened as you began to wake, eyes fluttering open. “Five more minutes,” you protested through a voice gravelly with sleep. Joel’s fingers were still on your cheek. He stroked you gently as if guiding you awake. “No no no, sleepyhead,” he patiently insisted. “Syrup’s already on the pancakes. They’re gonna be soggy ‘n cold by the time you eat ‘em if I give you those five extra minutes…”

You pursed your lips and frowned, closing your eyes again in protest. “Well what if I like cold, soggy pancakes?” you teased, snuggling into the pillow. Joel sighed, but there was no frustration in it. He leaned closer, pressing a tender kiss to your bare shoulder. “I know for a fact,” Joel said. “That you do not like cold, soggy pancakes. I know that because nobody does…”

You scrunched your nose, eyes still shut tight. “When did you get so smart?” you asked, to which Joel shrugged. “Have to be,” he replied. “To keep up with you.” He nuzzled his nose against your shoulder and gave it another kiss. You pointed to your cheek, and Joel obligingly placed a kiss there as well. Your fingertip trailed to your neck; Joel’s mouth followed, each kiss a little slower, deeper. Joel’s cock stiffened against the mattress, his chest hovering over yours as he nestled into your shoulder.

Here, in the soft warmth of the bed, he could smell the scent of your shampoo on the pillow; and as the quilt over your body shifted, the subtle hint of your scent beneath it stirred up to meet Joel’s nostrils. Now his eyes closed as well, Joel’s senses being filled with you: the taste of your skin on his tongue, the scent of your cunt drawn into his lungs. Joel caught himself grinding lightly into the mattress without realizing it.

“Joel,” you whimpered, your eyes still closed. “More…”

He chuckled into your neck, warm breath coasting your skin. His jeans felt like they were getting tighter by the second. “Y’smell so good, darlin,” Joel murmured at your ear. “Makes me hungry for somethin’ else…” You opened your eyes, glancing down at the quilt covering you. Joel followed, his gaze washing over the shape of your breasts rounded under the fabric. He gently cupped your breast through the quilt, his mouth finding yours. Your lips parted, the tip of your tongue licking between Joel’s lips. He exhaled, a low growl pulling up from his chest.

His fingers slid over the edge of the quilt at your neck. As his tongue explored the wet heat of your mouth, Joel pulled the quilt downward. Your body shivered from the sudden cold. “Aww darlin,” Joel cooed. “Are you cold? I can fix that.” He stood beside the bed and tugged his t-shirt off, enjoying the way your eyes raked hungrily over his exposed chest and belly, focusing on the dark trail of hair peppered with gray trailing beneath his jeans. Joel unbuckled his belt and tugged it through the loops, folded it and placed it on the nightstand beside the bed. He undid his jeans but didn’t remove them yet. Joel climbed over you on the bed, resting his weight on his elbows as he lowered his chest onto yours.

“Y’just need some body heat, is all,” Joel said, his hands roaming up your sides. He placed soft kisses between your breasts through your nightgown, cupping both mounds in his hands. Joel’s fingers slipped under the neckline of your nightgown, which was softly rising and falling over your breasts as you breathed. He carefully pulled it down, your breasts popping over the fabric, your soft skin meeting the scruff of Joel’s stubble. His tongue swept over your exposed skin, circling your left nipple before his lips latched over it.

You moaned softly as Joel massaged your breast in his mouth. The pad of his tongue rolled over your left nipple, the right twisted gently between Joel’s thumb and forefinger. You keened into Joel’s mouth, your back lifting off the mattress. He stayed at your breasts a moment longer, before shifting down the bed and nestling between your thighs. Joel lifted the edge of your nightgown, letting the fabric settle on your stomach. Your legs were spread already, pussy ripe and wet like a peach, waiting just inches from his lips.

Joel was overwhelmed with the need to devour you as your scent consumed him. His hands wrapped around your thighs, holding them like a frame around his face. He closed his eyes and nuzzled against your lips, catching your slick on the end of his nose. Your hips shifted, a silent request for more. Joel could never deny you anything, and certainly not when it meant he got to taste you. His big hands held your thighs apart, dark eyes taking in the bounty before him, like a man preparing to feast.

He flattened his tongue against your cunt, sloppily spreading your lips apart. The warmth of his breath against your clit made you shiver again. He closed his lips over your clit, sucking the tiny bud between them. Your legs jerked, a breathy giggle escaping your lungs. Joel’s grip tightened on your thighs as he looked up at you from between them. “Gotta make sure you stay put, sweetheart,” he said, a dark twinkle in his eyes. “You try buckin’ me off again like that, I’m gonna have to make you mind…”

Joel buried his face against your cunt, making you whimper in relief and need. As many times as you’d felt this before, it always felt like the first time. Joel knew exactly what you wanted, where you needed his mouth to be. The thick pressure of his tongue massaging your clit was so perfect it almost hurt, but you’d never tell him to stop. It felt too good, too intense, like you were either going to come or piss or both. Your body jolted again, which earned you a hard growl from Joel, the vibration from his mouth making your clit throb even harder. He forced your legs wider apart, pinning them to the mattress. You wriggled under his hold, but Joel’s strength far surpassed your own. In less than a minute you were coming, your body writhing under Joel, his shoulders braced as he held you still.

When you finished shaking, Joel relaxed his hold on you, letting you rest. He climbed up between your legs till his face was above yours, a line of slick hanging from his chin. “That’s a good girl,” he said, guiding one of your weak, pliant legs around his waist and holding it there. “You just relax now darlin, ‘n let me do all the work.” Joel reached between your bodies and took hold of his cock, rubbing his tip between your lips, massaging your wet, warm entrance. He grinned when your small hole puckered against him expectantly, eager. Joel lowered his tip just inside you, groaning as your walls spread around him. He bit his lip, forcing himself to go slow, to make this moment last. Five more minutes, you’d said. Those five minutes he’d allowed you had stretched to twenty, but at this point, Joel wanted them to go on forever.

“Joel,” you squeaked, your fingers groping at his back. He knew what you needed, something he was more than willing to give you. Joel sank his hips forward, filling you completely. The breath you’d been holding spilled from your lungs, your head landing back against the pillow. Joel rut into you forcefully, his hips meeting yours in rapid, hard thrusts. He gripped the sides of your pillow in his fists, pulling you closer. Your forehead pressed against Joel’s chest as he took you, pumping his cock inside the tight, slick grip of your body.

His lips parted in a breathy moan, teeth grazing your shoulder as he came. You wrapped your arms around Joel’s back, feeling his muscles shudder and tense. He pulsed inside you, warm semen spilling between your walls and oozing out around Joel’s cock. He stayed inside you, both your breath and his filling the room in ragged, grateful pants. The mattress was soaked beneath your ass, your cum and Joel’s spilling onto the sheets. When your bodies finally separated, it wasn’t for long. Because Joel pulled you into his arms and held you, making sure you stayed warm, just as he always did. And when you’d both recovered, he made fresh pancakes for you, and served them in the same bed he’d had his breakfast in…

[meet-me-backstage]

𓃗

𝐋𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐋𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐓𝐢𝐦𝐞

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 ꥟ Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

𝑆𝑙𝑜𝑤𝑏𝑢𝑟𝑛！

𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 ꥟ It had been years since you ran away from Joel Miller, a hunter, frightened for your life and of who he had become. Before the infected roamed he was the grumpy single father of a chirpy and sweet little girl who lived across the street from you and kept himself to himself… until he didn’t, not with you at least when you began watching over Sarah while he couldn’t. He became someone who you could talk to, a friend dare you say, a silly little crush and your lifeline at the beginning of the apocalypse.

Now you are residing in Jackson, a slice of heaven in a cruel world, the perfect distraction from your past and the hell you went through to get away from it. However, you realise that the past really does always come back to haunt you when all too familiar faces arrive at Jackson and you have no other choice but to face Joel again, who makes it his mission to fix your broken friendship.

Unable to fight your heart, feelings resurface and lines blur when it becomes clear that you are just as much Joel’s lifeline as he is yours.

𝑨𝒏𝒈𝒔𝒕, 𝒇𝒍𝒖𝒇𝒇 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒔𝒎𝒖𝒕 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒂 𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒑𝒚 𝒆𝒏𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒈!

𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 ꥟ Horror themes, not following the second season/game so kinda au, reader can sing and play guitar, weapons, bad language, death, angst, mentions of pregnancy and stillbirth, blood, violence, nightmares, PTSD, a lil smidge of dark!Joel, Jackson!Joel, soft & protective with a bit of a dad bod!Joel, unrequited love until it isn’t, jealousy, mutual pining, age gap (reader is 36 and Joel is 56) and smUUUUT (‼️) so you must be 18+ to read❗️

𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 (𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐨𝐨𝐧!) ↯

𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝑇𝑎𝑘𝑒 𝑐𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑜𝑓 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟𝑠𝑒𝑙𝑣𝑒𝑠 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑒𝑛𝑗𝑜𝑦 <3

𝐋𝐞𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐢𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐝 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐲 𝐉𝐨𝐞𝐥 𝐌𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐫 ‘𝐋𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐋𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐓𝐢𝐦𝐞’ 𝐭𝐚𝐠-𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭! 🫶

𓃗

[thewritergx]

Jackson: Joel Miller x F!Reader: Part 1

Summary: Sat 1 year after Ellie and Joel find a home in Jackson. Joel is plagued with thoughts of ruining the sweet girl his brother rescued. A series of Joel destroying all your innocence. 

Someone needs to take my computer away because this is sick. This will be a multiple part series. As of right now, it’s sitting around 15K words.

Warnings: Mentions of guns. Knife use. Smut Containing: Age Gap (Joel is 57, undisclosed age for reader but I picture her around 28). Praise Kink, Kissing, Fingering, Gentle Dom!Joel, Innocent Reader, Virgin Reader. Its giving corruption kink, lowkey free use kink at times. So many pet names I can’t even list them out. 

Word Count: 5.5K

EXPLICIT SEXUAL CONTENT. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Please feel free to like and repost. Click here if you’d like more stories from me. Text divider from @plum98. Text Color Generator. If you'd like more Joel Miller stories, please go check out @pearlessance. 

If Joel Miller had been told a year ago that he would be finding solace comfort between the legs of a woman half his age, he would have laughed until all the air in his lungs was depleted, leaving him bright red in the face. The last thing Joel ever considered himself was a ‘dilf’ but behind the impenetrable walls of Jackson, you were clinging onto him like he was made of the finest metals. A handful of gold and pearls in your unwavering grip.

He never meant for it to turn out this way. He didn’t mean to have you accidentally clenched around his fingers in an anguished void of eroticism. Yet there he was, dismantling every particle of decency he had remaining in his traumatized psyche. 

Joel wasn’t sure why he was so intrigued by you. He couldn't point it to a singular trait or moment in time. Maybe you made him feel young again, like a teenage hot for teacher. Maybe it was the way your eyes wrinkled slightly when you smiled up at him. Maybe it was the way you leaned into his touches, no matter how faint.  All he knew was that the sound of your voice stimulated his body with a deadly erotic static every time he spoke to you. Forbidden and illicit as your lips brushed against his. 

Joel and Ellie had just begun settling in the new city when you showed up. It was a dull morning, the sun just starting to rise over the horizon as snow drizzled down the frozen air. Joel had been sitting on his newly furnished porch, polishing a rifle to perfection and sipping on a piping hot coffee. His tired eyes fluttered closed, warm steam from his mug hitting his face. He was never a fan of the cold, having grown up under the hot Texas sun,  but he was starting to find peace in the frigid atmosphere. His usual racing mind was void, an uncommon and strange occurrence since the outbreak began. He allowed himself half a second of relaxation, his broad shoulders easing into a rickety vintage chair. 

Even in this secure environment, he knew not to let himself get too comfortable. Startled by the image of his brother’s wobbling tracks against the snowy ground, his eyes widened. Tommy’s slender strides buckled. It looked like he was carrying something. Something Joel couldn't quite make out from the distance between them. He stood on alert, his coffee almost spilling as he slammed the porcelain mug on a feeble side table. Joel stomped through the arctic powder, a white-knuckled grip on his rifle. Tommy struggled to keep going, falling to his knees with a hard ‘thud’. Joel swore he felt his heart stop. The only audible sound was his blood vessels restricting, the air in his lungs hindered by his hasty steps. Tommy was never a weak man, but the time spent walking back to camp, the weight in his arms, and the heavy snowfall had exhausted him to the point of complete collapse. 

“Tommy!” The concern in Joel’s tone was palpable, his strong arms grabbing his brother. Joel snaked his hands under Tommy’s shoulders, supporting his weight and pulling him from the soiled ground. Finally, Joel could recognize the undisclosed package in Tommy’s grip. A girl. She looked freezing, her cheeks a bright red and slow breaths crackled. 

“Fuck, give her to me.” Joel’s heart pounded, rushing to take you in his arms. You were feather-like in his arms, weightless as he pressed you against his chest. The thin jacket you wore hardly provided any fight against the icy rain that trickled down but Joel had hoped his body heat would be enough to provide some type of warmth. He rushed you to the infirmary, his stride incalculable and unstoppable. He had practically thrown you inside, placing you under multiple layers of thick blankets. You looked almost peaceful, but your body was shivering and your skin a ghostly pale white. 

Time passed and Joel, along with Tommy, had spent days at your bedside. They had made sure you were taken care of, helping you drink water, and making sure you got enough to eat. Strangely, Tommy was thankful for the practice, knowing a new baby was waiting for him at home. Once you had recovered and could leave the infirmary, you really didn’t have any other place to go except Joel’s. Tommy had found you alone in the woods, but he had just started his own family. Plus, It didn’t really feel right leaving Joel after he had watched you at your worst. Alone and with no other choices, you moved into the spare bedroom right down the hall from him and Ellie. 

This particular day had been one straight from his most lustful nightmares. Like every day, he was in charge of weapon maintenance, foot patrol, and a newer annoyance. Training new recruits. Joel had not given much thought to teaching the younger members of Jackson how to protect themselves. But he was glad he could be of some use, especially with the way certain members still looked at him like he was a threat. Like he might bust down the doors in a blaze of ranging gunfire at any moment. He tried his best to build new connections, build a new life for Ellie and himself. A life his brother would be proud of. In the newfound dystopia he had begun to call home, he never expected you to be so motivating. You were a lot like him in certain ways. Quiet. Unapproachable. This made Joel want to do good, guarantee you were proud of him. 

For the last three months, you had haunted the halls of what was once Joel’s newly perfect home. As perfect as you could these days, anyway. You were always lurking. Your tight little body sprawled out on the couch, your hair fallen forgotten in the bathroom sink, your toothbrush in the same cup as his. It was too much for an old man’s fatigued heart to take. 

To make matters worse, Joel was in charge of training you. Every day, it was shooting, hand-to-hand combat, or teaching you how to use makeshift medical supplies. He hated admitting it, even to himself, but teaching you how to shoot a gun might have been the best thing left in this godforsaken world.

Joel would stand close behind you, wrapping his fingers around your hands to help you aim better. He would try to ignore it, but the way your tiny hands gripped the gun under his fingers was enough to spring his cock to life. He wondered if you could feel it pressed against your back as he leaned down, lowering his voice. His breath would be all hot and slow in your ear while he told you what a good job you were doing. You always tried to keep your reactions to his words internal, but god some days all you wanted was for him to press you against the wall and trap you against him as he explored your body with his calloused hands. Surely, he had to know. He had to sense how much you loved it, the simplest of touches having you weak in the knees. 

Despite Joel's love for the shooting range, bullets couldn’t be wasted and through his discontent, you were a surprisingly great shot. That meant today’s focus was hand-to-hand combat. A special type of torment in which you quickly grew fond of. You worked on blocking punches, throwing someone off you, and other easy ways to stab the infected. This kind of practice often required Joel to push you around, grab you tight against him, or hover his full body weight above you.

Joel huffed, his chest expanding with each heavy breath as he laid under you, his muscles firming around your strong grip on you pinned his arms down.  

“Ya learn quick,” he grunted, bending his knee to lock you in place as you sat atop him. This was one of the moments when he couldn’t stop picturing you naked. He imagined the way your tits would bounce in this position, perfect for him to wrap his hand around your throat or gently slap your cheek. 

You pushed off him, holding a hand up as he struggled to pick himself up off the ground. 

“Yeah well, you’re a good teacher”. You rolled your eyes, taking his hand in yours and balancing your weighing as you helped him off the plush grass.

“Yeah. Alright, square up. Let's go again, darlin” Joel stood in front of you, tightly wielding a sharp knife in his hands. He was always giving you pet names like that, the words falling from his lips and landing between your legs like rain. You watched as his jaw clenched, muscles in his arms flexing as he threw a jab at you. You swerved your body, quicking jumping out of the way and hitting the knife out of his hands. The blade landed with a thud, leaving Joel weaponless. 

“Yes! See, that was perfect.” Joel smiled, his broad shoulders spreading as he stretched his arms out. He wasn’t lying, you learned far quicker than he liked to admit, the end of your training with him just a few weeks away. “That's enough for today. Gettin’ kinda late”. Joel patted your back, a simple praise of how well you performed.

All Joel really wanted at this moment was to get you underneath him, and not in the “pretend to fight me off” type of way. In a way that would have you whimpering his name and your legs quivering. 

He tried to keep the invasive urges at bay, forcing himself as far away from you as the enclosed space of Jackson would allow. Even after avoiding you until dusk, your touch lingered on him like a parasite, eating at his tanned skin until it was all mushy and broken. He would be successful for a brief time, maybe even until the morning if he was lucky. Training you every day was gradually unraveling him. Bit by bit until he was losing control, a constant internal conflict raging inside himself. He could stay at a distance for now, but in the end, he could never truly escape you. 

For you, that evening had gone by so painfully slow, your body begging for some type of release. You had slipped into a comfortable pair of panties, the material hugging your ass softly. You lazily threw on an oversized t-shirt and crawled under the thick blankets of your bed, heavy as a bag of rocks thrown down the stairs. The bed was warm and through exhaustion, your eyes quivered closed. Flashes of Joel’s hands on you, pinning you down and throwing you around invaded your thoughts. All the training along with your daily tasks had depleted every ounce of your strength, but Joel sent a jolting rush of stamina through your nervous system. 

You let yourself lean into your desires, lethargically reaching your hands down to the bundle of nerves insistent on your affection. Any other day you might have been strong enough to ignore the ache, but today you were weak. Today you were consumed by it. Your hands found your panties in a pathetic desperation, a faint wet spot darkening the material at your core as you began to rub merciful circles. You bit your lip, a jagged inarticulate sound escaping. Your fingers moved delicately, needy and wet from an entire day of training, your subconscious daydreaming to get back into your room and play with yourself. 

The only problem with this was you weren't really any good at it. You knew how it worked, all the parts, and what you were supposed to do with them. You just couldn't reach the ‘end’ that so many people raved about. You tried an endless amount of times, even thought about hooking up with random guys you had stumbled upon in the past. But it never felt right, forcing yourself to be with someone just because they were the only one around. You had decided the high that other women described must have been a complete lie. Still, you learned different angles, different ways to finger yourself, and all types of tricks. Something was always missing, an extra sensation that would push you over the edge always out of reach.

Your index and middle finger created a slight friction on your clit, a rough buttery sensation against your panties. Goosebumps formed across your body as you feebly slid the restricting cotton down, spreading your legs to give yourself better access to pleasure. You added some spit to your fingers, a hushed wail slipping as you continued making small circles, biting your bottom lip harder and throwing your head back. You shut your eyes tight, the sound of Joel telling you ‘Good girl, that's perfect’ and all his other innocent compliments replaying. You sped your movements up, adding more pressure to the sensitive nerves. It felt adequate, but you knew it wouldn’t last. You needed more. Delicately, you dipped your finger inside your crying pussy. Your walls gripped around your finger, sucking it in further like it was starving. You curled the digit, trying to hit that spot that was just out of range. You hardly grazed it, your g-spot unobtainable. After a lengthy time of great strive your finger became slick, drowned in your juices but nowhere closer to the finish line. You groaned, your arms already becoming tired from the relentless pumping.

“Ya know, you’re doin’ that totally wrong.” A familiar voice spoke out from the dim light of the room, a dark silhouette basked in moonlight. 

You threw your blankets over you, jumping under the covers and removing your fingers quickly. You stared, frozen. Even in the dark with shadows hiding his facial features, you could make Joel out. Your mouth fell agape as Joel stood against the wall, his weight on his back foot. He crossed his toned arms across his chest condescendingly, watching in silence.

“Oh my god! You scared the fuck out of me. What are you doing?” You spoke fast, voice revealing how obviously embarrassing the interaction was.

“Couldn’t sleep. Head a noise. Thought you were cryin’. Came to check on ya.” Joel took a step closer, his eyes dark and eyebrows furrowed in a slight frown. “Didn’t mean to interrupt but…I can see you’re strugglin’ I can help…If you want.”

You racked your brain to find the words adequate enough to articulate your racing mind, watching as Joel stood, shirtless and chest completely exposed. You could see him now, the muscles in his arms, the scar where he stabbed. God, you didn't get to see him like this nearly enough. In fact, now that you thought about it, you weren't sure if you had ever seen him shirtless at all. Greying hair lightly peppered his chest, a trail running from his belly button to the clothed fabric around his waist. You were nearly drooling, his boxers hugging his thighs. 

“I-I”. Your chest rose and fell, your heart beating quicker than you were used to as you tried to make sense of his words. “H-help me ho-how?”

“Been standin’ here for a while. You're not comfortable enough, ya need to relax. To be honest, ya look scared,” Joel chuckled, his face a bit flushed but words nonchalant and composed. “I consider myself a pro in this area. I could show ya how to make it better.” 

“I know how to do it”, you snapped. You cut your eyes at him, a sudden rush of anger slapping you in the face. Who was he to tell you how to masturbate? He didn't own a vagina. You doubted he could do it better than you. 

Joel peered deep into your eyes, his stance at attention like a soldier in formation. He wasn’t going to budge. You knew he didn't believe you, not if he really had been watching like he said.

“Okay then, little girl. Show me…if you're so good at it”. Joel stood in place, like a stone unmovable. 

You felt pathetic, peering up at him with white-hot embarrassment. A switch broke and you had given in so easily. You didn’t put up a fight for a second, your core pleading for your attention to return to the earlier movements. “O-Okay”, you whined, laying back down and moving the blanket towards the foot of the bed. You let yourself diminish into the mattress completely, your body on view for him. You trembled, silently spreading your legs and scooping up the wetness dripping out of you. You placed your finger back inside, humming at the little pleasure it gave you. 

Joel let out a groan “That’s a good girl. Play with that pussy for me”. The tone in his voice was new to you, smooth like he had just drunk a hot tea. His jaw clenched shut, teeth clashing tight as sounds of your wetness vibrated off the walls. He wondered how often this occurred, how many times he slept through your cries of need. He moved across the room with a leisurely pace, sitting on the edge of the bed as he watched you sprawled out in front of him, body hypnotizing him. You felt the bed sag under his weight, achingly close but untouchable. You curled your finger more, listening to his hitched breathing and closing your eyes again. It was strange, him watching you like this. You tried your hardest to hit the right spot, letting out a huff of frustration and reluctantly removing your fingers, making circles around your clit again. It was clear to both of you. You had no idea what you were doing.

Usually, Joel preferred his women experienced, liked them a little loose and pre-used. He could be rougher that way, less careful, and more spontaneous. But fuck, you looked so fucking pretty, begging to cum but unable to do anything about it. He was sure he died and woke up in his personal heaven. 

Fuck, he couldn't believe he was doing this. He was supposed to be the man keeping you safe, not the one sneaking into your bedroom at night and making a mess of you. Joel hummed, watching the slight shake in your legs grow with anticipation of a climax you would never reach on your own.

Before you could stop him, too focused on proving him wrong and torturing the both of you, he was gently grabbing your wrist and pulling your hand away from your aching pussy. 

“Just let me... know ya need me. You were sayin’ my name, ya know?” The look in his eyes had changed from a hungry desire to a desperate soft plea, his voice a whisper in the suffocating quiet of the bedroom. He never had to be this cautious before, never really paying much mind to what his actions might result in. 

You thought for a moment, looking into Joel’s eyes for any sense of danger. He didn’t turn away, didn’t loosen his grip. But in his eyes, you could see it, helpless wanting. His shoulders dropped as he waited for any type of response that would allow him to come closer.

“O-Okay,” you whined, “t-thank you”. 

Joel crept forward, sympathetically hooking his arms around your waist and pulling you closer. Your back rested against his chest, legs on either side of his muscled thighs. His skin was smooth, warm like a campfire and his breath on your neck heated you even more under the chill of the snowy mountains. Throughout the months of getting to know the unmerciful brooding man, you had never gotten the opportunity to be this close, this intertwined.

“Like this, soft and slow” Joel whispered, positioning his fingers on the sides of your swollen lips. He moved unhurriedly like he had pressed a button and frozen time around you. In his mind, he never had to leave this room, all the time in the world to watch you fall apart. Tactfully he spread your lips apart to reveal the slick wetness leaking out of you.

“Fuck.” Three fingers hovered above your clit, the motions tender as they moved in repeated circles “What's got ya all worked up, pretty girl?” The pads of his fingertips absorbed the saliva you had paced there moments ago. 

“Nothing,” you swallowed, your words already strained in the back of your throat. Despite your earlier presumption, Joel could do this better than you. He was proving you wrong each time his fingers slid across, shockwaves forcing you to admit defeat. 

Joel hummed, watching his fingers soak in your juices. “Think it was probably me, huh?” 

Shane crept up on your skin, your cheeks impossibly more flushed. You shouldn’t admit it. That it was him. That it was his words.“I-I…just like the way you talk to me, is all.” The words came out a strained whine, leaning into him and spreading your legs wider, watching his delicate fingers dancing across your needy skin. 

“Yeah? Ya like when I tell you what a good job you're doin’? What a good girl ya are?” His voice was so light, his Texas accent almost innocent. Like he was talking to a baby. 

“Y-yeah”, you nodded your head, the simple four-letter word feeling like a monologue as you spoke them.

“I do it ‘cuz I know ya like it”. Joel listened to the way you responded to his touch. He had to get this perfect. Had to make sure you knew he was more than capable of handling your little ‘problem’.

Quiet ‘ohs’ quickly streamed from you, Joel’s fingers melting you into him. You tried to keep quiet, hoping no one could hear you through the thin walls of the house. Joel silently prayed that Ellie was already asleep, his heartbeat thudding at the thought of her finding out what was going on in the room a few feet across from her.

Joel quickened his pace, your clit swollen around his fingers, thick arousal coating them. He hummed into your neck, and you tensed. “Relax”, was all Joel had to say for you to nod your head and stretch your neck out. His lips feel to the exposed skin, placing serene kisses under your ear. He left a burning hot trail with his lips, his beard brushing against the delicate skin. He sucked a bright red spot where he felt you liked it the most, low enough for your shirt to mostly cover but still marking you his. The added sensation caused you to stir your hips, your legs and hands shaking.

“Try and stay still, baby. Keep movin’ like that and you're gonna drive me crazy,” Joel mumbled, his free hand wrapped tight around your waist. 

Joel dragged that hand up your body, placing it tenderly on your cheek. He turned your head as much as your neck would allow, a loud moan falling out of you as he brushed his lips against yours. His tongue danced liberally inside your mouth. Your perfect plump lips parted for him without a hint of hesitation, mint and beer thick on your tastebuds. His mustache kind of tickled, the hair grazing your lips. You tried to breathe through your nose as Joel sucked your bottom lip into his mouth, fingers still determined on shattering your sanity. You couldn’t remember the last time you kissed anyone, warm saliva spreading across your mouth and chin. You felt drunk against him, almost powerless in his grip.

Joel pulled away, a growl escaping him as you breathed heavily against him. “Goddamn. That’s my sweet girl”. You swallowed hard at his words, a sense of pride filling you.

“Can I put a finger in you, darlin’?” Joel slowed his circles, reaching lower, finally gathering as much of your natural lube as he could. He was collected, so much more confident than you.

You shook your head, a hesitant ‘yes, please’ was all you could respond. You were positive you looked a mess, but something told you Joel didn’t care. 

Joel hummed, “Yeah? Do me a favor then, sweetheart.” Joel brought his hand to your mouth, fingers lingering on your lips. “Get those nice and wet for me”.

You hesitated, looking back at Joel to find his brown irises, darker and glazed over more than that usual. You self-consciously wrapped your lips around his fingers, only spreading your lips enough to fit them inside. Your teeth grazed against him, the rough pads of his fingers dancing across your tongue. They left a taste of your bitter-salty arousal thick on your tastebuds.

“That’s it. You always listen to me so well”. Joel’s cock twitched at the view of your cheeks hollowing around him. It was bizarre how kindhearted he presented himself, his usual rough exterior completely gone. You wondered if this was the real Joel, one no one else got to see. 

Joel watched as he slowly pumped his fingers in and out, spit coating down to his knuckles. His breathing grew ragged, watching your eyes grow dark with lust as he hit the back of your throat. He studied your reaction, your eyes growing wider at the sensation of being so full. You strained, a muted cough slipping from you as he shoved them persistently deeper. You were taking them well, even through the obvious struggle. 

Joel removed his fingers from your warm mouth, slick and shiny with a mix of your spit and slick. He lowered his hand to your clit again. Hesitantly, with eyes glued between your legs again, he slipped one finger past your folds and inside your velvet walls. You sucked in a deep breath at the feeling, startled as he curled his index finger. It was so much thicker, longer than yours and the gentle stretch flowed through your veins like water on a hot summer day. 

“How’s that feel?” Joel tried not to focus on how fucking tight you were, his mind daydreaming of what you would feel like wrapped around him, all fucked out on his bed. 

“Oh god,” you whined, voice shakier than you wanted it to be, and your hips returned back to that involuntary bucking. “G-good”. His finger brushed against your G-spot, little cries echoing in Joel’s ear. This was what you were missing all these years. A real man’s touch.

“I know, baby girl. I know. Gonna take such good care of ya, just like I always have” Joel placed a kiss on your shoulder, his finger pumping in and out at a controlled speed. His movements were like a drug, clouding your judgment. “Think you take another? Or is this too much already?”. 

“P-please”, You tried not to beg too much, the pathetic whine in your voice striking Joel like a punch to the gut. Fuck, he would do anything you said right now. Anything.

“Always so determined,” Joel smirked, hypervirulently aware that you probably hadn’t taken this much before. Cautiously, he dipped a second finger inside you, stretching you with a heavenly sting. It was unfamiliar but invited and your body sucked him in further. It was more than your fingers could ever do and suddenly you understood why sex ruled everyone’s lives. 

A wet sloppy sound filled the room and Joel pumped his fingers with a presentation purpose, a hint of strength behind each minuscule gesture. Joel growled, spreading your legs wider and pulling you further into him, fully in his lap now. You felt his bulge press against your back rock hard. You couldn't stop imagining how big he was. It felt so thick against you, like a 9.mm gun in his waistband.

His fingers were a velvet robe encasing you. It was almost too much and you felt an uncomfortable heat building in the pit of your stomach. Joel felt you clench tighter around him and he knew you were close. “There you go, sweetheart”.

“Oh fuck, wait wait wait.” You tried your hardest not to scream, but the squelching sounds Joel’s fingers created were pushing you over the edge. 

You felt the man under you tense up, every fiber of his muscles firming. Regrettably, he stopped the movement of his fingers, leaving them frozen inside. 

“What's wrong? You okay?” A thick hint of concern or maybe fear just behind his words.

“I-I…kind of felt like I was gonna pee, is all.” your cheeks flushed, burning with unease. 

Joel hummed, moving his fingers again and ripping moans from you. “That’s good,” Joel chuckled, focused on keeping his fingers at a constant pace, “Means it’s workin”. He placed a hot trail of kisses down your neck again, biting at the skin.

You moaned at his words, that unfamiliar heat steadily finding its way back into you. Your legs shook almost uncontrollably, and you had to grip onto Joel's forearm to keep from slipping off his thighs.

“That’s it. Feel how you're clenchin’ ‘round me, gettin’ all wet and shaky under me?” You nodded at his words. “Just relax into me, baby girl.” You arched your back, biting your lip in a desperate attempt to keep yourself from screaming out.

The feeling of needing to pee was replaced with something unnamable crashing through your entire body. “Yes, oh my god!” you cried, throwing your head back and bucking your hips up into his hand. 

“That’s it. Cum on my fuckin’ fingers,” Joel kept his moments sharp, making sure to coax out every drop the orgasm had to offer. After your shaking stopped and your cries settled back down, he eased his fingers out of you. Your arousal leaked down your core, a puddle forming under your ass onto the exposed skin of Joel’s thigh. 

“Did so good,” Joel kissed your cheek, rubbing small circles on your clit again as you cried out. He grabbed your hand, kissing your fingers and trailing up your arms until he settled past your shoulder and into your neck. 

“Oh, fuck. Thank you, Joel”. You weren't sure why you felt the need to thank him, but you had to make sure you said it.

“You’re welcome, darlin’. Know I'd do anything for ya, right?”  His voice was soft and airy, slightly out of breath. 

You tried to focus on his words, your orgasm still thick in your mind. You closed your eyes, a wave of exhaustion hitting you like a brick wall. You nodded your head silently, lips parting as your heavy chest rose and fell. 

Joel smiled, he didn't even need to be inside you to feel euphoria. Being close, just talking to you was enough. Sex was just an added pleasure. But, fuck, he couldn't wait to show you more. He wanted to completely ruin you. He was a terrible person, he thought, but he didn't care at all. Not with the way you breathed against him, your head heavy on his chest as your eyes fluttered closed. 

It would be weird to stay, Joel thought. As he silently watched your chest expand against him, the thought occurred that he might get too used to this, already craving to rewire you into a whining slut. A little toy he could at any time. He was stressed, overworked, and constantly worried about Ellie. About you. Maybe he had finally found a way to release some of that pressure, even for a moment. Joel ran his thick fingers through your hair, admiring the way your body benignly twitched at the sensation. 

Sleep came and went in waves for Joel. Some nights, if he was so exhausted and worn out from a hard day of work, you could hear his snoring echoing through the docile home. Other nights you woke up to the sound of screams and then an earth-shattering quiet. Like he yelled so hard he woke himself up too. The mornings after a night like that always resulted in a moody, quiet Joel. Like his mind was racing with so many visions he couldn’t even speak. But right now, Joel’s mind raced with different thoughts. Less violent but just as powerful and forsaken. He wondered how far you would let him go with this little game. Maybe he could show you all the tricks he had built up over the years, all his experience preparing him for this. Leading up to please you. To make you his. It was wrong. He knew that. Of course, he knew that. But as your hand settled on his pectoral muscle, he felt nothing but unwavering satisfaction. 

The town already hated him. He was already a mysterious murderous stranger. What would ruining a girl half his age really change? Sure he would be berated and probably receive double the glances of disapproval but as long as you were under him, begging him to fuck you harder what did any of it matter. 

As he laid under you, his cock throbbing and begging to be released, he dreamed of shoving it in your mouth. He dreamed of watching you struggle to take it, choking on the head of his dick as it slipped between your supple lips. Maybe you would even like it, beg him for it when he was supposed to be teaching you how to live in a world full of danger. All the risk, all the pain and suffering this new era threw at him disappeared at the sound of your pleas. All he wanted was for you to gag on him with tears streaming down your face. 

He was a bad man. He knew it because behind all the need, all the repressed yearning for your innocent cunt, there was not a hint of guilt. Not the slightest bit of sympathy. To be honest, it shocked him. He thought he would care more about disgracing you. He hoped he wouldn't even be able to function, intense and unweaving regret causing him to suck himself back into the dark reality of this world. But it never came. That was the first moment he knew for sure the people of Jackson had been right. He really was a bad man. 

[oldsoul007]

every breath you take

joel miller x reader

summary: jackson was perfect for the most part until it wasn’t, you get really worried when Joel and Tommy go out on patrol and never come back

a/n: angstyy, this is sorta a “rewrite” if you will, let me know if y’all want a part ii…

joel miller masterlist

The warm glow of the lanterns strung above the Jackson town square created a magical ambiance, the laughter and music of the town dance filling the crisp night air. I was in Joel’s arms, my hand resting gently on his shoulder as we swayed to the melody. Despite the crowd, it felt like we were the only two there, lost in our own little world. Joel’s rugged charm and quiet confidence had drawn me in months ago, and every moment since had only strengthened my feelings for him.

I caught the soft smile tugging at the corners of his lips, a rare sight that made my heart flutter. Joel was complicated—worn by the weight of his past—but with me, he seemed to allow himself fleeting moments of peace.

Suddenly, the music was interrupted by a loud commotion. My gaze shifted to the edge of the dance floor, where Ellie and Dina stood, their smiles replaced by tense expressions. A man was shouting, his words venomous and cutting through the cheerful atmosphere like a knife.

“That’s just what we need, another loud mouthed d*ke,” he spat, his tone laced with hate.

I felt Joel stiffen beside me, his entire body tensing. I knew that look, that spark of protective anger that flared in his eyes. Before I could say anything, he was already moving toward the source of the disturbance.

“Joel, wait—” I called after him, but he didn’t stop.

By the time he reached the man, Ellie was already closing in, her hands clenched into fists. Joel stepped between them, shoving the man back firmly but not violently, creating space before Ellie could get any closer.

“Get the hell out of here,” Joel growled, his voice low and commanding.

“Get your hands off me” The man stumbled but didn’t retreat entirely, glaring at Joel with defiance.

“You alright kiddo?” Joel asked walking toward Ellie.

“What is wrong with you?” Ellie demanded, her voice sharp as she fixed Joel with a glare.

“He had no right,” Joel replied, his tone firm but calm.

“And you do?” Ellie shot back, her anger cutting through the air. “I don’t need your fucking help, Joel”

Joel faltered for a moment, his expression hard to read. I could see the tension in his jaw, the quiet battle between his need to protect Ellie and the reality that she didn’t want him to.

Without another word, he turned and walked away, his shoulders stiff with frustration. I hesitated, glancing back at Ellie, who was still fuming, before deciding to follow him.

I found Joel near the outskirts of the square, his back to me as he stared out into the dark horizon.

“Hey, You okay?” I asked softly, stepping beside him.

Joel didn’t look at me right away, his gaze fixed on the distance. “She don’t need me no more,” he said finally, his voice tinged with sadness.

“That’s not true,” I replied, placing a gentle hand on his arm. “But Joel… Ellie could’ve handled Seth.”

He turned to look at me then, his expression a mix of frustration and vulnerability. “She shouldn’t have to,” he muttered.

“I know,” I said, my voice steady. “But sometimes protecting someone means letting them handle things their way.”

He nodded slowly, my words sinking in. The two of us stood there in silence for a moment, the distant sounds of the dance continuing behind us. I laced my fingers with his, offering silent reassurance.

Joel didn’t look at me right away, his gaze fixed on the distance. “She still hates me for what I did,” he said finally, his voice low and heavy.

“She doesn’t hate you,” I replied, placing a gentle hand on his arm.

“She’s got every reason to,” he muttered. “I lied to her. Took away her choice. It ain’t something you just forgive.”

I sighed, squeezing his arm gently. “Maybe not, but she’s still here. That means something.”

Joel turned to look at me then, his expression a mix of frustration and vulnerability. “It’s hard watchin’ her hate me when all I wanna do is protect her.”

We stood there in silence for a moment, the distant sounds of the dance continuing behind us. I laced my fingers with his, offering silent reassurance.

Whatever storm raged inside Joel—whatever distance still lingered between him and Ellie—I was determined to help him navigate it. We’d made it this far together, as a family. I wasn’t about to give up now.

Whatever storm raged inside Joel, I was determined to weather it with him. Together.

The house was quiet, save for the faint creak of the old wooden floor beneath my feet as I moved through the kitchen. I’d been tidying up, distracting myself from the heaviness of the night’s events. The front porch window was open, letting in the cool night air, and through it, I could hear the soft, familiar strumming of Joel’s guitar.

I paused for a moment, leaning on the counter and letting the sound wash over me. There was something about the way Joel played—steady, thoughtful, like every note carried a piece of him. It always managed to soothe my mind, no matter how tense things felt.

But then, just faintly, I caught the sound of footsteps on the porch. My brow furrowed as I turned toward the window. Joel’s playing had stopped abruptly.

Peeking out, I saw Ellie standing there, her arms crossed tightly over her chest. She looked hesitant, like she’d been pacing before finally working up the nerve to stop. I stayed inside, watching quietly as Joel set the guitar down and stood to face her.

Their voices were low, too quiet to make out, but I could see the tension in their stances. Joel stood still, his hands resting on his hips, while Ellie shifted from foot to foot, her face a mix of frustration and something else—something softer.

I let them be. Whatever they were talking about wasn’t for me to interrupt.

A while later, after finishing up in the kitchen, I climbed into bed. Joel still hadn’t come up, but I figured he needed time to think. He always did after heavy conversations, especially when it came to Ellie.

When I heard the soft creak of the door opening, I looked up. Joel stood there, framed by the dim light from the hallway. He didn’t step in right away, just lingered in the doorway like he wasn’t sure if he should. His shoulders were slumped, and the way he avoided my eyes told me everything before he even said a word.

“You okay?” I asked, keeping my voice soft.

He finally closed the door behind him and nodded, but it was the kind of nod that didn’t mean much. “Ellie stopped by,” he said after a moment, his voice quiet.

I nod as I sat up slightly, resting my weight on my elbows.

Joel let out a slow breath, his shoulders relaxing just a fraction. “She said… she’ll try.”

The words hung in the air for a moment, heavy with meaning.

I reached out, placing my hand on his back. “That’s something,” I said softly.

He nodded, his gaze fixed on the floor. “Yeah. It is.”

I nodded, though the heaviness in his tone left an ache in my chest. Joel wasn’t one to open up easily, not about things that mattered, but I’d learned to read him over time. The tightness in his jaw, the way his hands hung at his sides like they didn’t know what to do with themselves—he was carrying too much again.

I didn’t ask him to explain. He would, if and when he was ready. Instead, I patted the space next to me on the bed.

“Come here,” I said quietly.

Joel turned then, finally meeting my eyes. There was a hint of relief there, though it was guarded, like he didn’t quite dare to hope. I gave him a small smile, sliding closer to wrap my arms around him.

“She loves you, Joel,” I murmured. “She’s just trying to figure out how to deal with it all.”

He rested his forehead against mine, his voice barely above a whisper. “I hope you’re right.”

I leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to his jaw before settling my head against his chest. His hand slid up my back, warm and steady, and I felt the tension in his body start to melt away.

We didn’t need words tonight. The quiet was enough, his presence beside me enough. As his breathing slowed and evened out, I brushed my fingers through his hair absently, watching him fall asleep.

It wasn’t long before my own eyelids grew heavy, and I let myself drift off, safe in the warmth of his arms. For this moment, at least, the world outside didn’t matter.

The faint sound of boots on the wooden floor stirred me from sleep. At first, I didn’t move, my body still heavy with the warmth of the blankets and the lingering pull of dreams. But when I heard the soft creak of the bedroom door opening, I blinked my eyes open to see Joel standing in the dim light of dawn, his broad frame silhouetted against the faint glow coming through the window.

“Joel?” I mumbled, my voice thick with sleep. I pushed myself up onto one elbow, squinting at him. “What time is it?”

“Early,” he said quietly, his voice low and steady, the way it always was when he was trying not to wake me fully. But there was something in his tone—something careful.

“What’s going on?” I asked, sitting up fully now.

“Maria’s sendin’ me and Tommy out. Couple folks said they heard infected near the ski lodge, just outside the fences.”

That woke me up completely. I sat up straighter, the blankets pooling around my waist. “What kind of reports?”

“Couple folks said they heard ‘em,” Joel said with a shrug. “Probably nothin’, but we don’t want to take chances.”

I frowned, rubbing at my eyes before meeting his gaze. “Then let me go with you.”

Joel shook his head immediately, stepping closer to the bed. “Ain’t no need for that, y/n. Me and Tommy can handle it.”

“It’s not about whether you can handle it,” I argued, my voice sharper now. “If there’s a group of infected, wouldn’t it be better to have more people out there? Just in case?”

Joel sighed, sitting down on the edge of the bed. He reached out to rest a hand on my knee, his touch warm and familiar. “It’s not gonna turn into somethin’ bigger. We’ll be back before you even start to worry.”

I gave him a look, folding my arms. “You know I’m going to worry the second you walk out that door, right?”

He gave me a faint smile, the kind that softened the hard edges of his face. “I know. But you don’t need to be out there every time somethin’ like this comes up. You deserve a night off, y/n.”

I huffed, leaning back against the headboard. “Fine. But you’d better come back in one piece, or I’m dragging you and Tommy back here myself.”

Joel chuckled, leaning over to press a kiss to my lips. “I’ll be back, darlin’. You don’t gotta worry about that.”

I watched as he stood, grabbing his gear and slinging his rifle over his shoulder. He paused in the doorway, glancing back at me with that faint, knowing smile.

“Get some rest. I’ll see you soon.”

I studied his face, trying to decide if I should push back, but the way he looked at me—steady and reassuring—made me stop. He always had a way of making me believe him, even when I didn’t want to.

“I love you,” I said quietly, the words slipping out without much thought.

Joel paused, turning back to look at me. His expression softened, the faintest smile tugging at his lips. “I love you too, y/n.”

I watched as he stepped into the hallway, his boots creaking on the wooden floor. The door closed a moment later, the sound faint but final.

I laid back down, staring up at the ceiling, trying to shake the unease in my chest. I’d said “I love you” a hundred times before, but something about this time felt different—like I hadn’t realized it might be the last.

And with that, he was gone, the door creaking shut behind him. I laid back down, staring up at the ceiling as the quiet settled back over the house.

Joel always came back—but that didn’t stop the unease from sitting heavy in my chest as I listened to the distant sound of his boots fade into the night.

The cold bit through my gloves as I fastened the strap of my pack. Patrols were usually dull—staring into a white wasteland of nothing and praying it stayed that way. But something about the morning felt… off. The sky was too heavy, and the wind howled like it knew something I didn’t.

“Y/n!” Jesse’s voice cut through the noise as he jogged toward me, snow crunching beneath his boots. His breath puffed white in the air, and his expression was tighter than usual. “You ready? We’re up for the lookout.”

I pulled my hood tighter and nodded. “Tommy and Joel are still there, right?”

“Supposed to be,” he said, his tone clipped. “Let’s go check in and swap shifts.”

We trudged through the snow, the trees around us bending under the weight of frost. Jesse kept the conversation light—something about a stupid bet with Manny—but I could see the same unease in his eyes that I felt in my gut.

When we reached the lookout, my stomach dropped.

Empty.

The door hung ajar, snow drifting into the cabin like it owned the place. No sign of Tommy. No sign of Joel.

“This isn’t right,” I muttered, scanning the room. “They wouldn’t just leave.”

Jesse stepped in, jaw tight as he swept his flashlight across the interior. Supplies were scattered, but nothing screamed fight. No blood, no overturned furniture. Just… absence.

“They didn’t radio in,” Jesse said under his breath, almost to himself.

“What now?” I asked, heart thudding harder.

The wind howled outside the tower as I adjusted my scarf, pulling it tighter around my neck. Jessie sat across from me, fiddling with the straps on his rifle, his expression tight with concern. We’d been here for hours, long past the point when Joel and Tommy were supposed to relieve us.

“Something’s wrong,” I said, my voice tense, glancing out the window at the snowstorm swirling outside. The visibility was getting worse by the minute, and my chest tightened with worry. Joel wasn’t one to miss a patrol, not without a damn good reason.

Jessie stood, slinging his rifle over his shoulder. “We should head out. Let Ellie and Dina know.”

I didn’t argue. The unease in my gut had been growing since the first hour they were overdue, and sitting around wasn’t going to do us any good. Grabbing my gear, I followed Jessie out into the biting cold, where our horses were waiting just outside the tower.

Ranger, my chestnut gelding, pawed at the snow anxiously as I mounted up, his breath visible in the freezing air. I leaned down to pat his neck, trying to calm both of us. “C’mon, boy. Let’s go.”

We rode back to where Ellie and Dina were as quickly as the storm would allow, the snow biting at my face and stinging my eyes. By the time we reached the stables, I was frozen to the bone, but that didn’t matter. I needed to find Joel.

Ellie and Dina were in the Eugene Linden's hideout. They looked up the moment Jessie and I burst in, snow clinging to our clothes.

“Why aren’t you at the fucking look out?” Dina asked, her brows furrowing.

“Tommy and Joel never showed up,” Jessie said, cutting straight to the point.

“What?,” Ellie asked as she stood up.

Dinas expression immediately serious. “How late are we talking?”

“Hours,” I said, my voice tight as I brushed the snow from my jacket. “We waited as long as we could, but… something’s not right.”

Ellie’s jaw tightened, and she grabbed her gear without hesitation. “Then we go find them.”

The four of us were out the door in minutes, the urgency unspoken but understood. We saddled up and split to cover more ground.

Ranger’s hooves crunched through the snow as I urged him forward, my eyes scanning the white expanse for any sign of Joel or Tommy. The storm was relentless, the wind cutting through my layers and making it harder to see.

My chest felt heavy, the cold sinking into my bones as my mind raced with worst-case scenarios. Joel wasn’t invincible, no matter how much I wanted to believe he was. If something had happened out here… I shook the thought away.

We pressed on, the snowstorm making the search feel endless. Every second that passed without finding them made my heart pound harder. Joel was out there somewhere, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was very, very wrong.

“C’mon, Joel,” I muttered under my breath, gripping Ranger’s reins tighter. “Where are you?”

The storm raged on, but I didn’t care. I wasn’t stopping until I found him. Until I brought him back.

[whosscruffylooking]

ᖭི༏ᖫྀ The Beginning of Us- Chapter 5 ᖭི༏ᖫྀ

Joel Miller x Fem! Reader warnings: mentions of blood, severe injuries, and death. word count: 2.4k Series Masterlist

au! september 2003

The four of you creep into the museum, the air thick with decay and the sharp scent of old rot. You grip your gun tightly within your hands. The dim light from the setting sun barely penetrates the grime-covered windows, casting long, haunting shadows. The coast seems clear at first, but that deceptive calm shatters as you spot the grotesque remains of a man splayed beneath the staircase, his body overtaken by fungal growths.

Ellie’s breath hitches, her voice breaking through the stillness. “I’ve been attacked by an infected. It wasn’t… anything like that.”

Joel raises a hand sharply, silencing her with a warning glare. “From this point forward, we are silent.” 

You ascend the creaking staircase, every step feeling like a test of fate. Tendrils snake along the floor and walls, their sickly, veined textures a chilling reminder of what’s at stake. The remnants of what were once people lie scattered, blending into the overgrown exhibits. You keep step with Joel, his presence both grounding and unbearably heavy.

Behind you, a sudden groan of wood splintering sends your heart into your throat. The doorway collapses in a cloud ofdust and debris, sealing your exit. Without hesitation, you grab Ellie’s arm and yank her forward as Tess scrambles through behind you.

Then, the piercing screech of a clicker splits the air, freezing the blood in your veins. You meet Joel’s gaze, and in that brief moment, the silent rush of panic between you both is undeniable. Grabbing Ellie, you pull her behind an old display case as Joel ducks in beside you. His shoulder brushes against yours, and you feel the pressure radiating off him.

Ellie clings to your hand, her eyes wide with fear. You mouth silently, “They can’t see, but they can hear.” She nods, her breaths shallow.

A clicker lurches into view, its erratic, jerking movements unnatural and horrifying. Joel’s flashlight catches the grotesque growths on its face, and your pulse quickens as its head twitches violently toward the faintest sounds. No matter how many times you’ve faced these things, the terror never diminishes.

It begins to circle the display case, its guttural clicks reverberating through the room. Ellie lets out a tiny gasp, and the creature screeches, lunging toward your hiding spot. Joel fires, the deafening crack of the shot shattering the tense silence. “Run!” you hiss, grabbing Ellie’s hand and bolting toward another room.

Another clicker appears, its grotesque figure illuminated by the flickering light. You shove Ellie toward Tess as you spin around, firing at the creature. The bullets slow it but don’t stop it. Just as you reload, hands grab you, yanking you back against a wall.

For a split second, you think it’s over, but the touch is familiar—Joel. His hands press against your waist as he pulls you close, shielding you. His revolver is empty, his fingers fumbling as he reaches for more ammo. You quietly pass him a handful of bullets, your hands brushing, trembling.

A sound pulls your attention, and you glance around the corner only to find the clicker mere inches away. Time slows as it turns its head toward you, its jagged teeth exposed in a snarl. Your heart feels like it might stop altogether. Joel tears you back just as it lunges, and you grab a can of food from your bag, throwing it across the room. The noise distracts it, giving you both precious seconds.

Ellie is crouched nearby, her small figure shaking but determined. Joel rushes toward her, but in the chaos, his boot crunches down on a shard of glass. The sound is deafening in the silence. The clicker snaps its head toward him and Ellie, screeching as it leaps.

You don’t think—you just act. You slam the butt of your rifle into the creature’s neck, forcing it to turn its rage on you. It snarls, hissing, and you bolt, leading it away. Every step feels like a countdown, the guttural clicks growing closer. Spinning around, you aim and fire, the recoil jerking against your shoulder. The clicker collapses, its body convulsing as blood pools beneath it.

Joel sprints toward you, his hands frantically searching your arms and sides for bites. “Are you hurt?” he demands, his voice raw and jagged.

“I’m fine,” you manage, but your voice cracks. You grab his arm, doing the same to him, your hands shaking. He’s fine. Relief battles with the lingering adrenaline in your veins.

Another screech cuts through the air. Before you can react, Tess appears, her axe swinging with brutal precision. The clicker stumbles, and Joel finishes it with a shot to the head. The deafening silence that follows is almost worse than the chaos.

You lean against the wall, your breaths uneven, the rifle slipping from your grip. Joel stands before you, his chest heaving as his eyes lock onto yours. You see fear there—fear for you, fear of losing more than he already has.

“You okay?” You force yourself to look away from Joel and focus on Ellie, your voice strained.

“Well, I didn’t shit my pants, so there’s that,” she quips, her attempt at humor shaky. Then, with a shrug, she pulls up the sleeve of her jacket, revealing a fresh bite just above her old scar. The sight makes your stomach drop.

“I mean, if it was gonna happen to one of us…” she trails off, trying to joke, but her voice falters.

You stare at the wound. Joel steps closer, his face stiffening as his eyes dart from Ellie’s arm to your reaction. You glance at him briefly before turning back to Ellie, swallowing the fear rising in your throat.

But before either of you can speak, Tess snaps, “We need to move. Now.”

You nod, pushing the terror and the unspoken emotions aside as the four of you press on, the weight of survival heavy on all of your shoulders.

Emerging onto the museum roof, the fresh air feels like a cruel contrast to the suffocating fear you’ve just escaped. You take in the view—a sharp reminder of everything you’ve been through and the impossible journey still ahead.

“We’ve gotta cross that thing?” Ellie asks, pointing at a precarious wooden plank spanning the gap between the museum and the next building.

“Yeah, I know it looks scary,” Joel says, his tone clipped, his mind clearly elsewhere.

“That was scary,” Ellie mutters, glancing back toward the museum. “This is wood.”

Despite her words, there’s a flicker of hesitation as she approaches the plank. She surprises you by reaching for your hand, gripping it tightly as if anchoring herself to something real. You look down at her and offer a small nod before stepping onto the plank together, leaving Joel and Tess behind.

You don’t look back, but you can feel Joel’s gaze remaining on you as you cross.

Joel crouches beside Tess, attempting to wrap her ankle, his hands steady but his expression distant. He avoids looking her in the eye, his mind clearly on more than the task at hand.

“There’s probably more ahead,” he says, breaking the silence.

Tess watches him, her expression shifting to something more vulnerable, more weary. “So, we’ll deal with it then. I’ve got it,” she says, snatching the bandage from his hands and finishing the job herself. Her movements are quick, almost defensive, as though she’s fending off the concern in his eyes.

Joel doesn’t relent. “What about the kid?” he asks, his voice brittle. “Maybe the first bite didn’t take, but what about the second?”

Tess exhales sharply, her patience fraying. “Why don’t you just take the good news for once, huh? Can you do that?” Her voice matter-of-fact, laced with frustration. “Maybe—just maybe—we’ve finally caught a break. This kid could be a miracle. And you…”

She waits, her tone easing, though the words cut just as deep. “Y/N. She’s right there, Joel. The ghost you’ve been carrying around for 20 years? She’s here, flesh and blood, right in front of you. But all you can do is keep living in denial. Just go watch the kid.”

Joel flinches, the accusation hitting harder than any wound he’s taken in years. “Y/N—she’s with Ellie,” he mutters, barely managing to get your name out.

Tess shakes her head, her annoyance boiling over. “You can’t even say her name like you mean it. What are you gonna do, Joel? Go another 20 years living like this? Letting the bitterness swallow you whole?” She exhales, her composure cracking. “I can’t. Not anymore. Just… go.”

Joel wavers, but he doesn’t argue. Without another word, he rises and heads toward you and Ellie, leaving Tess behind with her grief and resolve.

On the other side of the plank, Ellie keeps her hand in yours. She looks up at you with something between awe and relief, as though you’re the only thing leveling her out right now.

“You did good back there,” you soothe her. 

“Thanks,” Ellie murmurs, managing a small smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes.

Joel’s voice cuts through the silence like a blade. “Is it everything you hoped for?” He steps beside you, and instinctively, you move to Ellie’s other side, the distance between you and Joel a chasm that can’t be crossed.

Ellie shrugs. “Jury’s still out. But, man, you can’t deny that view.” She gestures to the ruined skyline ahead, her attempt at lightness ringing hollow.

Tess joins you, her steps uneven. “C’mon,” she says. “We don’t have much daylight left.”

»»————————-««

The rendezvous point is a ghost town. The truck is abandoned, and dread sinks like a stone in your stomach. Tess hangs back with Ellie while you and Joel fan out to investigate.

You crouch beside the truck, your eyes catching the sickening sight of bodies beneath it. Raising a hand, you signal Joel, who comes to your side.

You spot a trail of blood leading up the steps of the capitol building and swallow hard. “They went inside.”

Tess grabs Ellie’s arm abruptly, pushing her toward the building.

“Wait—Tess!” Joel shouts, chasing after her. “What are you doing?”

Inside, the scene is worse. The air is thick with the stench of death, Firefly bodies strewn across the room like broken marionettes. Tess moves with a desperation that chills you, rifling through the carnage for something—anything. A radio, a map, some shred of hope.

“Who killed them? FEDRA?” Ellie whispers.

You tap one of the bodies with your boot, your voice hollow. “No. One of them got bit. The healthy ones turned on the sick. Everyone lost.”

Joel’s voice slices through the chaos, sharp and accusing. “Tess, what are you doing?”

“Where did Marlene say she was taking you, Ellie?” Tess grabs her shoulders, her eyes wild.

Ellie stammers, “I—I don’t know! She just said west!”

“Tess, stop!” Joel demands, his voice rising.

“Joel, can you just help me?” she pleads, her tone breaking.

Joel’s face hardens. “No. Tess, it’s over. We’re going home.”

“This is not my home!” Tess snaps, her voice cracking as the words spill out. Joel stares at her, stunned.

She exhales, her shoulders slumping. “Our luck had to run out sometime.”

The realization hits you like a blow. You press your fingers to your mouth, and your voice is feeble. “Tess… you’ve been bit.”

Joel’s head jerks toward her, disbelief etched on his face. “No. Show me.”

Tess hesitates before pulling back her shirt to reveal the jagged bite on her neck. “Oops,” she says bitterly, raw terror in her voice

“Take your bandage off,” she tells Ellie.

Ellie does as she’s told, exposing her uninfected skin.

“Look, Joel,” Tess says, her voice unsteady but resolute. “This is real. She’s real. I need you to get her there. Both of you.”

Joel shakes his head, backing away. “No. No, Tess, I can’t—”

“Joel!” she interrupts, her voice breaking. “I never asked you for anything. Never once. Not to feel the same way I felt about you. But I am begging you now—take her. Keep her alive. Set this right.”

You feel your heart shatter as Tess’s words hang in the air. She’s loved him all this time, and he’s never let himself love her back. The weight of what Joel has lost—what he’s still losing—tears at you.

“Tess, don’t,” Joel pants.

Tess shakes her head, tears flowing down her face. “There’s no time, Joel. Please. Say yes.”

Joel is paralyzed in place. 

Tess turns to you, her eyes desperate. “Please, Y/N. Promise me.”

Your throat tightens, and you nod, your voice breaking. “I’ll do it, Tess.”

She smiles weakly, tears mixing with the blood on her face. “Thank you. Keep him in line, okay? Don’t let him drown in his own bitterness. Save him. Save them.”

The sound of a body screeching cuts through the moment. Without hesitation, Joel shoots it, and you watch in horror as the fungal tendrils snake across the ground, connecting to the hive mind.

“Joel,” you hiss, snapping him from his daze.

He runs to the front door, his face ashen. “They’re coming. All of them. We’ve got maybe a minute.”

Tess doesn’t hesitate, grabbing gasoline cans and dumping them across the room. “I’ll hold them off,” she says firmly.

She steps toward Joel one last time. “Save who you can save,” she whispers. “Open your heart again, Joel. Please.”

Joel’s face crumples, terror and heartbreak flash across his features, but he says nothing.

Tess looks at you, her eyes steady now. “Take them out of here. Now.”

You grab Ellie and Joel’s hands, dragging them toward the exit.

“No!” Ellie screams, thrashing in your grasp. “We can’t leave her! I’m not leaving her!”

“Ellie, we have to!” you cry, your voice breaking. Joel takes over, hauling Ellie out of the building as she fights against him.

An explosion shakes the ground beneath your feet. You throw yourself over Ellie, shielding her from the blast, the heat searing your back.

When you rise, Joel is standing motionless, his gun half-raised, staring at the burning capitol. The screams of the infected echo through the air, swallowed by the roaring flames.

You place your hand on Joel’s gun and gently lower it. He looks at you, his face blank, his eyes hollow, before turning away without a word.

You pull Ellie into a hug, her small hands clutching at your shirt.

“Let’s go,” you whisper, your voice trembling as you guide her forward. Behind you, the inferno rages, taking Tess—and a piece of all of you—with it.

»»————————-««

Taglist: @si1versamurai

[jazzy96scorpio]

Your Wish is my Command

Description: You get pulled into helping Joel and Tess,to keep Ellie safe. Maria sent you with them,she trusted you and Ellie didn't want to come without you.

So your story begins that night when you sneak out from the QZ with them. Tess got bitten nearly after, you were left with grumpy Joel and an silly teenager Ellie. You are such a BRAT and Joel hates it.

Warnings ⚠️: adult readers only, sex, unprotected sex, rough sex, dirty talk, angry Joel, age gap (Joel is 56, reader unspecified), smut

💦

After a long and exhausting day of traveling through the ravaged landscape, you, Joel, and Ellie found a small clearing in the woods to rest. Exhaustion weighed heavily on your limbs.

Ellie, oblivious to your weariness, happily munched on a stale sandwich, her youthful energy seemingly unaffected by the day's hardships.

Joel, however, remained on guard, his weathered face etched with a deep-seated mistrust.

As you watched him, a strange sense of connection stirred within you. Despite his gruff exterior, there was an undeniable appeal to his weathered handsomeness, a rugged charm that belied the darkness that lurked within his eyes. You found yourself drawn to him.

"I'm going to the river," you announced, breaking the silence. "Need to wash off the grime."

Joel's eyes narrowed. "Alone?"

"I'll be fine," you assured him, already starting to gather your things. "Won't be long."

"It's not safe," he warned you.

"I'll be careful," you insisted, a touch of defiance creeping into your voice.

He hesitated, his gaze fixed on your determined expression. Finally, he conceded, "Just… be quick."

With a nod, you set off towards the river, leaving Joel to keep watch over Ellie.

Ellie quickly after fall a sleep and Joel was worried about you.

You reached the riverbank and, with a deep breath, shed your clothes, reveling in the cool, refreshing water. You splashed around, enjoying the rare moment of freedom and the sensation of the water against your skin.

Time seemed to slip away. You lost track of how long you had been in the water, the sounds of the forest fading into a distant hum. Suddenly, you heard Joel's voice, a mixture of concern and exasperation.

"Hey! Come on, hurry up! It's getting cold. You're gonna freeze."

You chuckled, emerging from the water, droplets clinging to your skin. "I'll be fine, old man." You couldn't resist teasing him, "Join me if you're so worried."

Joel scoffed, turning his back to you. "Do what you want, girl."

You wanted to push him too far. A mischievous glint entered your eyes. You let out a loud, dramatic scream, pretending to be startled.

Joel whirled around, his face pale with alarm. "Are you alright? What was that?" He frantically searched for you in the deep water, his eyes wide with panic.

"Down here!" you called out, suppressing a giggle. "Just kidding."

Joel let out a relieved sigh, his voice still angry "Don't do that," he grumbled, shaking his head.

Joel, his patience wearing thin, approached the riverbank. He crouched down, picking up a handful of rocks and stacking them precariously on the edge.

"Get out of the water now," he demanded, his voice rough with impatience.

"I don't have time for this."

You raised an eyebrow, a playful glint in your eyes. "Make me."

Joel stared at you, his jaw clenched. He knew he was playing right into your hands, but your stubborn defiance was infuriating.

"Alright," he growled, tossing the rocks into the water. "This is your last warning."

"Nope" you say with smile.

He stepped into the river, the icy water shocking him.

"You fucking Brat," he growled, wading towards you.

Before you could react, he scooped you up in his arms, your naked body pressed against his. You gasped, your laughter cut short by the suddenness of his action. He carried you out of the water, his grip surprisingly gentle, and put you down on the ground.

"Are you crazy?" he growled, his voice hoarse. "What you were thinking?"

You looked up at him, your eyes sparkling with a mixture of fear and exhilaration. "Yeah," you whispered, "I'm insane."

He stared at you, his breath catching in his throat. Lust and a primal hunger stirred within him, a potent cocktail of desire and fear. He was close, dangerously close, his body trembling with a need he hadn't felt in years.

"Is this all a joke to you?" he demanded, his voice rough. "You like to play games huh?"

You leaned forward, your lips brushing against his ear. "Yeah," you whispered, your voice husky, "I like to play games. With you, Joel."

His eyes widened in surprise. He had expected defiance, not this… this invitation. You leaned in closer, your breath fanning his face.

"I would… I would like to play a different kind of game with you, Joel."

Your words hung heavy in the air, a promise unspoken, a challenge accepted. Joel felt a primal urge to claim you, to possess you, to lose himself in the raw, untamed desire that surged through him.

"You think I didn't notice how you looked at me?" he growled, his voice a low rumble.

You smirked, running a finger along his jawline..Then you come closer to his face, licked his lips.

"Won't you give a girl what she wants?" you purred, your voice husky with desire.

He leaned in, his breath hot on your skin. "I'm gonna give you what you need, sweetie" he corrected, his voice dropping to a dangerous low.

He kissed you, a rough, demanding kiss that stole your breath away. You responded instinctively, your hands tangling in his hair, pulling him closer. His hands roamed your body, exploring the curves of your hips, the softness of your breasts.

You felt a surge of desire, a primal yearning that mirrored his own. "You also wanted this," you whispered against his lips, your voice husky with arousal.

He growled, his hands tightening around your waist. "More than you know," he admitted, his voice rough with need.

You reached for his belt, your fingers fumbling with the buckle. He groaned, his grip tightening on your hips. "Don't," he warned, his voice a low growl. "Let me..."

He fumbled with his own pants, his hands shaking with a mixture of excitement and nervousness.

"You need a lesson about who is in charge, sweetheart" he murmured, his eyes burning with passion and madness.

You reached out and traced the outline of his bulge, a low moan escaping your lips. "Fuck yes...I have been bad girl, Joel" you whispered, your voice trembling.

He couldn't hold back any longer. He pulled down his boxers, revealing himself in all his glory. You gasped, your eyes widening at the sight of his cock, thick and throbbing, sent a jolt of desire through you.

"You think you can take this" he growled, his voice thick with desire.

"Fuck Yess...I want it so bad." You murmured.

He pinned you down, your lips meeting his, as he roughly entered you. You cried out, a mixture of pleasure and pain. He held you close, his hands gripping your hips, his movements slow and deliberate at first, then increasing in speed and intensity.

"Shhh," he murmured against your lips, his voice a low growl. "Be quiet, sweetheart."

You moaned, burying your face in his shoulder, your body arching against his. He moved deeper, pushing harder, his body trembling with the force of his own arousal.

"Fuck...yess" you murmured, your nails digging into his back.

He kissed your neck, his teeth grazing your skin. "Poor thing, wanted my cock so bad" he whispered, his voice rough.

You reached for him, your fingers digging into his back, urging him on.

"Yes Joel...Ohh FUCK...you feel so good"

He moved faster, harder, his body a whirlwind of sensation. You clung to him, your cries muffled against his shoulder, as he brought you closer and closer to the edge.

Then, with a final, explosive thrust, you came on him, he feels your tightening quickly pulls out, cumming on your pussy. He collapsed on top of you, his breath ragged, his body still trembling.

"Shit...God damn it girl, this was fucking amazing" he muttered, his voice rough with a mixture of frustration and arousal. "Is that all you want?"

You laughed, running a hand through his hair. "No," you teased, "I might need more later."

He groaned, burying his face in your neck.

"Fuck, I'm gonna do it, sweetie," he growled, "Just ask me nicely next time."

"Yes, sir," you whispered, a playful glint in your eyes.

Afterward, you cleaned yourselves up, the lingering scent of sex hanging heavy in the air. You got dressed, the silence between you charged with a newfound intimacy.

As you settled back in the woods exhaustion finally catching up with you, you noticed Joel watching you with a different intensity, a tenderness that surprised you. It was a fleeting glance, quickly masked by his usual gruff demeanor, but you saw it. Love? Perhaps. Or maybe it was just the lingering effects of your passionate sex.

Thanks for the reading 💜

Part 2

[lanietadelatierra]

A pandemic caused by a fungus? That sounded impossible until it actually happened. 

Year 2025. The height of the tech era. Evacuation of infected zones. 

All residents are evacuated and transported to the government's scientific concentration base. Experimental tests are conducted on pregnant women in the search for the immune gene in unborn children. 

Transportation to the base is carried out by train, with the final station leading directly into the facility. The train is divided into two sections: one for common civilians and another for government workers and their families. 

Crowds of people gather, trying to board the train, but not everyone can make it. They’re told to wait for the next train the following day. Folks shove and push, desperate to get on, while guards point their weapons at them, ordering them to back off. 

The train starts to move, injurin’ some folks who were still tryin’ to climb aboard as it pulled away. 

Mr. Miller was sittin’ across from young Anabelle in the government worker’s section, seein' as he was one of them, holdin’ a mug of coffee. It was a car with some comfort, due to his high rank. He raised a brow when he noticed the worry on her face, even with everything goin' on right then. 

‘Everything’s okay.’ 

‘I think I’m pregnant, sir,’ she replied, sobbin’ with a slight pain in her belly. 

His expression changed completely to one of surprise, but also worry, as he heard her words. He looked around to make sure no one was listenin’ and lowered his voice. 

‘Are you sure, darlin’?’ 

‘Yes, sir.’ 

After a few seconds, the young girl, with fear in her eyes, knowing the rumors they spread about pregnant women due to the experiments, added. 

‘Please, don’t tell anyone.’ 

He looked at her, concerned, with his little chick-like eyes, processin’ the information. 

Then, Mr. Miller took a long, slow sip from his mug, tryin’ to steady his nerves. Keepin’ secrets in a place like this felt like a heavy burden. The weight of that silence between ’em grew, and he couldn’t help but wonder just how long he could keep this quiet in such a volatile world. 

[thechaoticcherub]

Sheep Keeping Age

Pairing: Jackson!Friends Dad!Joel Miller x innocent reader

Summary: Joel keeps the flock of sheep in Jackson, you and Ellie become friends, partially because you think it's cute that he keeps sheep.

Warnings: 18+, explicit content, innocence kink, virgin!reader, big age gap(around 40 years), old!joel miller, frustrated!joel miller, some (very) light manhandling, edging, fingering, dirty talk, no use of y/n, pet names, farming, ellie briefly, pussy pronouns

Notes: My first Joel fic! I hope you like it! this isn't really proofread and def not beta read so sorry but that's just how i roll. Ten thousand cherub points to anyone who knows what the title references.

Word count: 4.4 K

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The first week after you became friends with Ellie, you hung out with her in the garage of her dad, well, her Joel’s house. She was in the process of fixing it up to be her apartment and you had agreed to help her move some stuff around. You had caught sight of Joel through the window of the garage, he was in the paddock just past his house where Jackson’s sheep were kept. He was carrying a bucket of water to fill their trough and stopping to rub one of the sheep that followed after him behind the ears while they all brayed at him. Joel was really good looking for an older guy, broad through his shoulders and chest with a lined and deeply etched but handsome face. His hair was peppered with grey and there was something about his prominent nose and jaw that made you want to stare. You had seen him at other times in Jackson, from across the mess hall when he came in looking for his brother while a movie played in the evening. You had watched him then, your eyes tracking his movements across the building instead of paying attention to the projector screen. You had seen him at the pub, late in the evening when you’d go in to play cards with friends, he would be sitting at the bar with Tommy, drinking and talking in low voices. You had always been friendly, saying “hi Mr. Miller!” all brightly, smiling and sweet. Every time he would give you an awkward ‘’llo’” and then look away as if you were dangerous to look at for too long. You had always found him attractive, but he continuously hurt your feelings. 

“Why are you staring at Joel?” Elli asked, knocking you from your thoughts as you stared out the window. 

“Oh I just didn’t realize he took care of the sheep,” You said, making up an excuse. Ellie snorted with brief laughter, 

“Honestly, I think the sheep are the old fucker’s best friends. He definitely likes them more than probably anyone else.” She said, glancing out the window. 

“It’s kinda sweet,” You said, “Shows he isn’t just a closed off asshole,” You finished. Ellie shrugged, “Orrr it means he’s really closed off. Come help me move this desk,” She said.  

The second week after you became friends with Ellie, it had really started to feel like springtime around Jackson and you had walked over to see if Ellie was home. When she hadn’t answered your knocks on the door into the garage, you had wandered around the back of the building towards the paddock. You spotted Joel by the barn, so you put your foot up on the wooden fence and swung your leg over before hopping down and walking over. 

“Hey Mr. Miller!” You called as you approached him, he glanced over and then quickly looked away, as if the sight of you had burned him or something. 

“Hey,” His voice was gruff and short, “You lookin’ for Ellie?” He asked. You walked up to him and shrugged, “I was, she’s not here though, is she?” You asked. 

“Nope. On Patrol with Tommy,” He told you. It sounded like a dismissal, like you should leave. There was a sheep laying against the side of the barn, her breathing was a little heavy and Joel crouched down next to her, feeding her out of the palm of his hand. His forehead was pinched in worry. You didn’t want to be dismissed. You had come all the way to the house and you liked animals. Maybe you could learn how to help with the sheep and if that meant getting to spend a little more time around Joel then so be it. 

“Is something wrong with her?” You asked, crouching down next to Joel and reaching out to touch the sheep’s back, giving her a pat. Joel shifted so he wasn’t close to touching you, and glanced over at you, 

“Nothin’ wrong, jus’ pregnant and ready to be done I ‘spose,” Joel said. You immediately cooed, 

“Aww there’s going to be lambs soon?” you asked, excited, you turned your head to look at Joel, your fingers still in the sheeps slightly dirty wool. You watched as he nodded, “Yup, hopefully not too long,” he said, he looked over at you and it was as if he hadn’t been expecting you to be looking at him. He looked a little startled to meet your eyes, you watched as his eyes moved from yours to your cheeks, a little pink from the cool spring air, to your lips, slightly pursed as you watched him. “Look, darlin’,” he stood up suddenly and the movement almost knocked you backwards into the mud. Him calling you ‘darlin’ got your heart fluttering and your cheeks flushing. “I can tell Ellie you stopped by later if you-”

“I can help with the lambs when they come!” You interjected. “I love animals and I bet I could be a big help with the sheep, I’d love to learn about it.” you told him hopefully. Joel’s eyes moved over your eager face, his brow was pinched in that familiar concern. It was like he was thinking of ways to reject you. You didn’t understand, was he really just this anti-social or was it something about you specifically? You had seen him talking to other people just fine, while he wasn’t the friendliest person he made  conversation with them, but ever since the first time you met Joel he hadn’t wanted to talk to you for long. And it wasn’t like he just didn’t pay attention to you, you had seen him looking at you almost as much as you had caught yourself staring at him. You would turn your head while talking to someone in the town square and he would be looking at you, as if you irritated him. You had once briefly thought maybe he was looking at you because he thought you were pretty but the fact that he never said more than a couple words to you dissuaded you of that.

“I dunno, I’m guessin’ there’s better things a girl like you-” 

“Oh come on, Mr. Miller! I want to help out!” You grinned at him and for a split second, his face cleared of concern and he looked ten years younger but then the almost frustrated look was back but he shrugged, “Alright, if that’s what ya want,” He said. 

The fourth week after you became friends with Ellie, the sheep had been born and you had spent every day since at the paddock behind the Miller house. Joel had shown you all around the sheep barn, told you about their schedules, and taught you a lot but mostly you snuggled the newborn lambs while he did the heavy lifting. You had gotten him to stitch a few sentences together to you and even joked with him occasionally, 

“Not sure why I let ya keep comin’ back if i’m going to be the only one haulin’ the shit,” He had said one afternoon while you sat on one of the rails of the wooden fence, cradling a lamb in your arms, one booted foot swinging back and forth and he cleaned out the stalls in the barn. 

“Don’t pretend like you don’t like my company, Mr. Miller!” You called to him, rubbing the lamb under his chin. Joel snorted as he came out of the barn, 

“I’d like it better if you did some chores,” he said, “Instead of snuggling the babies and then leavin’ me out here the second Ellie comes home.” it had sounded harsh but you could see the light in his eyes. He may tease you about helping but he hadn’t ever insisted you pick up a shovel.  You blushed,

“Do you miss me when I leave ya, Mr. Miller?” You asked boldly, eyes shining with mischief as you looked over at him. 

“I told ya to call me, Joel, darlin’” He said, not answering your question. 

One day that week you had shown up in a dress, it had been too warm for jeans, and snuggling lambs wasn’t such hard work that you needed to wear work clothes. When Joel saw you walking up in boots and a floaty cotton dress he had rolled his eyes,

“We’re droppin all pretenses now, aint we?” He asked. 

“I don’t know what you mean, Mr Miller” You answered lightheartedly as you climbed up and over the fence. You knew he had wanted you to call him Joel, but the way Mr. Miller slid off your tongue like honey was too good to pass up.  Joel’s eyes raked over you as you threw a leg over the fence and hopped down, your dress fluttering around your thighs. 

“Mhm,” he said. “You go prancing around town like this a lot?” he asked, you looked over at him, his eyes had darkened slightly and you wondered if it pissed him off that you hadn’t even come dressed like you could do work if he needed you to. 

“No? I mean…I wear dresses sometimes,” You admitted, “You know that,” you added. He had seen you in dresses before, not that you thought he had noticed. He raised his eyebrows and said nothing, going back to his work. You spent the afternoon with the lambs and their mother, taking them farther out into the paddock to let their mother eat the clover there while you bottle fed the two babies. You caught Joel looking over at you three times that day. Once he was stopped just outside the barn and watching as you knelt in the grass in front of one of the lambs, you had felt his eyes on you so you made sure you smiled and looked cute while you fed the lamb with the bottle. You wanted him to look at you, you wanted your wildest fantasies of Joel Miller thinking you were pretty to come true. Finally you allowed yourself to turn and catch him looking, when he saw you look back at him he hurriedly kept working. 

The second time, you were bent over, picking up one of the lambs and when you straightened up, your cheeks flushed as you caught Joel staring at you from just a few yards away. You realized you had probably shown off too much when you bent over, your underwear might have even been peeking out. Mortified it was you who broke away from this gaze, you refused to look back up until you could hear Joel open the door to the equipment shed. 

The last time was when you were leading the lambs and their mother sheep back towards the barn, you were going to go home soon and you were twisting the hem of your dress around your finger over and over again, pulling it shorter and shorter absentmindedly. You were focused on the lambs, hurrying them along when you turned and noticed Joel filling a bucket with water at a spigot, it was unmistakable that his eyes were on your legs. You knew your body shouldn’t warm at the thought of him looking at you like that. He was the father of a good friend of yours. He was at least 40 years older than you. You hadn’t meant to try and show off to him but what if he thought you were just that type of girl now? What he thought shouldn’t matter to you, but it did and so when he looked up and noticed you had caught him looking again, you were the one who looked away in shame even though it should have been him. 

Once you got the lambs and their mother put into their stall in the barn you came out and looked around for Joel. He was standing by the fence, leaning against it and watching the sun slowly begin to sink behind the mountains. You wandered over to him and stood next to him, you could smell him when you stood so close. Something like heady leather, rich coffee beans and the tang of the outdoors and man. You wanted to bury your nose in his shoulder to keep smelling it. 

“Mr. Miller-” You started to say but before you could apologize for wearing a dress, for not doing enough chores, for anything you might have done to upset him, ever, he grabbed your upper arm, turning so you were the one pushed up against one of the fence posts. His hand dropped from your arm to your hip, keeping you snug against the wood. The movement knocked the wind out of you, your mouth fell open and you let out a little, oof. 

“Knock it off with that Mr. Miller shit,” Joel breathed. His body was so close to you, one of his legs wedged between yours, his large hand tight on your hip, pressing through the fabric of your dress and squeezing your flesh. 

“I’m sor-” “Don’t say it.” He growled, “You come to my house lookin’ like-” he cut himself off, his eyes moving down your frame, raking over every bit of you, making you feel even more exposed than you already did. His lips twisted in what seemed like it was distaste, but he couldn’t take his eyes off of you. “Next time you come over here, you better go back to being a good girl and wear jeans or somethin’ otherwise I’ll be fixin’ to do somethin’ I’ll regret.” His voice was dangerous and it set something boiling in you. You stared up at him, eyes wide, unsure. Joel’s dark eyes felt like flames as they stared down at you, scorching you, tearing at you. You wanted to be a good girl, but even more than that, you wanted him to do that thing he’d regret,

“But, Mr. Miller-” The words slipped out of you, and you couldn’t finish the sentence before his hand found your jaw. His thumb pressed into one cheek, his fingers pressed into the other, making you look up at him.

“Enough of that.” he said. “Don’t let me catch you in a dress like that again.” He said and it sounded like nothing but a challenge. He pushed you back slightly as he took a step away from you and then turned and left you there in the darkening paddock. 

The fifth week you were friends with Ellie, you wore a dress every single day but Joel hid for you. He signed up for Patrol on the day you were supposed to go to help with the sheep. He was never at the pub or the mess hall at the same time as you. You spent time with Ellie in the converted garage, talking about friends, about Ellie’s girlfriend, and you tried your absolute hardest not to ask her about Joel and whether or not he had asked about you. You stayed late at her place, playing cards,  and when you lost your third hand of Egyptian Ratscrew you decided to head home. As you were saying goodbye, you noticed a light flick on in Joel’s place. Your heart skipped at least two beats and as soon as Ellie’s door closed, leaving you in darkness, your feet changed course from the road that lead back to the mainstreet of town and to the nearby house. You walked along the driveway and to the front door where there was less of a chance of Ellie seeing you than the back door. You weren’t even sure what you were going to do when he answered the door, what reason you were possibly going to give for coming to his house late at night, the instant you saw that he was home but your feet led you to the door anyway and before you knew it, you were knocking. 

When Joel answered the door you looked exhausted and wary, his expression turned to something you couldn’t quite recognize the second he saw you standing there, booted toes pressed together, thin dress still swishing around your thighs from your movement. Maybe the expression was irritation, maybe it was shock, maybe it was hunger. 

“Mr. Miller,” You said, testing it in your mouth, unsure of what words would come next even as you spoke. You didn’t have an excuse. The title served as a propellant, something that burned fast and hot, sending Joel careening into you. He took one step over the threshold of the door, towering above you and then grabbed both your forearms and tugged you hard. Your immediate reaction was to try and put your arms up to push him back but he held you firm and gave you a little shake,

“I told you not to let me catch you wearing a dress again, little girl.” He said. You struggled with him for a second, trying to shake your forearms out of his grip, but it was no use and you didn’t really want to anyway. You stuttered for a second,

“I’m…I’m sorry, Mr. Miller,” The honeyed burn of that caused him to drag you over the threshold of his front door and slam it behind him. 

“You’re gunna be, darlin’” Joel dragged you through the entryway of the house and into the kitchen. He pushed you back into the counter, his body pressing into you again, his breath against your face. “You really think you can just be flirtin’ with me, tease me for weeks and then show up at my house in the middle of the night when I’ve been doin’ my damn best to avoid you?” 

You wanted to say you hadn’t meant to tease him, you hadn’t thought you were flirting, but thinking back on it, you had always gone out of your way to say hi. You had fluttered your eyelashes at him, and flipped your hair. Had you been that blatant? “N-no! I didn’t mean-” You started but you couldn’t even finish it. 

“You just a little slut, is that it?”Joel asked, his hands started to bunch up your dress around your hips. You gasped. No, you weren’t a slut, you hadn’t ever had sex. You hadn’t ever had a boyfriend. You hadn’t wanted to make any time for the boys in Jackson but you had been wanting Joel for a while. You tried to protest but again, the words died in your throat before they could come out because Joel was holding your dress bunched up in one hand while running a thick finger along the waistband of your underwear. “Is this what you’ve been wanting?” He breathed, his forehead was pressed into yours, you could feel his hot breath and his body pressing into yours. Yes, you did want it, but admitting that was admitting you had been acting this way specifically to get it.

“N-No!” You whined, pressing your back against the counter, trying to get away from his prying fingers but also desperately wanting it. “J-Joel!” You gasped as his hand pushed into your underwear, his fingers dipped into your slick folds, his middle finger slid up the seam of your pussy. When he reached the crest of your labia, his fingers seamlessly found your clit and tapped it, sending a spasm of pleasure through you. As quickly as he had shoved his hand into your underwear, he pulled it out, holding it up in front of your face to show off his fingers coated in your slick.

“Does this seem like no, to you, little darlin?” He asks, his voice sardonic. Your brow furrows as you look at your own juices coating his fingers. 

“Joel, I-I’ve never-” You whine and squirm where you’re standing, not sure how to say it, suddenly nervous this will all stop if you tell him. Joel reaches up with the hand that had so painfully briefly been touching your slit and cups your chin, surprisingly gentle,

“Never what, baby? Come on, spit it out, little girl.” His voice is husky, he leans in towards you, his nose pressing into the hollow of your cheek. 

“I’ve never been touched like…like that,” You manage to blurt out and Joel’s whole body seems to pause. For a moment you think he’s going to stop, he’s going to push you away and tell you to get lost, that you’re too young. But then the hand cupping your chin tightens and you feel his sharp, scratchy stubble against your cheek as he gives you a wet kiss there. He pulls back,

“Aint no one but me’s ever got the pleasure of touchin’ that pretty pussy?” he asks, there was a smile in his voice and you relax a little, he wasn’t about to shove you away. You shake your head slowly, looking up at him, your eyes meeting his. “Well, I should get proper acquainted with her then, shouldn’t I?” The words made everything in your body feel wobbly, like liquid sloshing around. His hands grab your hips and lift you backwards onto the counter. Joel shoves your knees apart and his fingers drag up your thigh towards your undies. You watch as his head tilts down to look between your bodies, his fingers moving to hook into the side of your underwear and pull them aside. Nerves make you try and clamp your legs shut and push him back, whining his name in protest at him looking at your naked sex. 

“Aw, sweetheart, I just want a little peek at her,” He convinces softly, you still whine but let his hands pry your thighs apart. His hand slips down your leg to your ankle and grabs it, pushing it back so your heel is pressed into the counter and your legs are splayed open, your body leaning back slightly. Your heart races, the idea of being exposed to his eyes is too much, you know you’re soaking through your underwear and now he can see that. Joel looks down over your undies and slowly lets go of your ankle, making sure you’ll keep it there. His pointer finger slides down your thigh to your undies, very carefully pulling them to the side, his eyes drinking up the view. “ohh, pretty girl,” he says. “You’re soakin’ for me, darlin.” He says, his eyes flick up to your face. Your whole face is red with embarrassment and desire. Joel brings his thumb up to his mouth, licks it and strokes your clit. Your breath catches in your throat, your heart hammers. All the times you had tried to touch yourself had never even come close to the way this felt. You let out a moan, your head falling back against your shoulders. 

Joel watches his thumb circle your clit, setting a steady, dizzying pace. “Good girl,” Joel said as you mewl out moans. Your body is blazing with pleasure, you can feel yourself dripping, you had never been wet like this before and it’s all because of his thumb softly circling around your clit, barely grazing it and then flicking over it in a mesmerizing pattern.  “Look at her,” Joel says with a short chuckle, “She keeps getting wetter.” His gaze fixed on your pussy and you let out a string of whines. 

Your orgasm is starting to build, you can feel it burning inside you, growing and pulsing, so close but not quite there yet.  Joel’s thumb strokes over your clit and your breath catches in your throat,

“You close, little darlin?” He asked, “I can see your cunt clenching on nothing….she needs something in her, doesn’t she?” You nod vigorously, unable to talk, unable to form a coherent thought. You didn’t care that you had never had anything inside of you, you needed his thick fingers. Your eyes open and look down at him, his face is tilted down, examining your sex, his grey peppered hair pushed back away from his face. His eyes move up to meet yours,

“Beg me for it, sweetheart.” he says, his eyes dark with lust. Your mouth falls open, your brow furrows and you shake your head, 

“C-can’t.” You whined, pressing your hips forward towards his finger as it continues its slow calculated pace of stroking your clit. 

“Yes you can, beg me to fill you up. Your poor, soaking pussy needs it, darlin. Come on, use those words I know you have.” He coaxed. You had never felt so filthy, you wanted to beg for his thick fingers in your virgin pussy but you couldn’t find the words, your brain was mush. “Beg.” he instructed. You whined, feeling like you were going insane and finally the words tumbled out of you,

“Please…please, please fill me up. Finger me, J-Joel. I need it in my pussy. Oh god, please, I’m soaking for it, she needs your fingers in her, please, Joel!” You babbled and whined as his thumb continued to stroked around and around your clit, occasionally swiping over it, bringing you closer and closer to that building orgasm. 

“Say, ‘please finger fuck me, Mr. Miller.’” He instructed, his middle finger notching itself at your entrance, not quite pushing in, just teasing your hole. 

“ughhhh!! Please! Please finger fuck me, Mr. Miller!” You moaned out, louder than you thought you were capable of. Joel let out a satisfied chuckle but instead of pushing that middle finger into your eager hole, his whole hand moved away from your throbbing sex. He delicately took the side of your undies and replaced them back over your swollen sex. 

“Wha- oh god…no! Joel!” You whined, pressing your hips forward, your cunt clenching on nothing. 

“Nuh-uh,” Joel said, looking over your face, smirking. “You spent weeks teasing me.”

“I didn’t know I was-” “Bullshit, little darlin’” Joel said. “‘Please, Mr. Miller can I please spend all my time at your house caring for the cute little lambs, bending over and dressin’ like a slut’” He mimicked you meanly and raised his eyebrow at you. “If you’re going to act like a naughty girl, I’m going to treat you like a naughty little girl.” He said, leaning down to be level with you. You stared at him, feeling like you might go completely crazy. You opened your mouth and then closed it again. Joel pressed his lips to yours in a soft, chaste kiss. When he pulled away he touched your nose, 

“Say ‘thank you, Mr. Miller.’” he insisted. 

“Thank you, Mr. Miller,” You mumbled, dazed. 

“Good girl, will you come check on the lambs tomorrow?” he asked, his eyes twinkling. “Ellie is on patrol all day.” Joel stroked his finger down the bridge of your nose. You gazed up into his eyes and nodded. 

“Yup, I really think sheep keeping is super interesting.” You said, still dazed and needy.

[rafescorpsebride]

Joel miller and preachers daughter is coming soon!!!

[munsonsmixtapes]

I'll Be By Your Side

Joel Miller x fem!reader

You stumble across Joel's camp site and after you faint, he and Ellie take care of you until you come to.

cw: hurt/comfort, mention of pregnancy and abuse

The cold air nips at your face as you pass through the woods, just trying to find a nice place to rest for the night. You’re not entirely sure how long you’ve been walking, but it’s definitely been a while. You’re so hungry and your body aches. You’re so weak that it’s hard for you to even hold your gun. When was the last time you ate something? Definitely the last time you saw-no, you can’t think about him. That part of your life is over. 

You’re terrified and that’s the only thing you know for certain. For the first time since the outbreak, you’re on your own and it feels so freeing but at the same time, you wish you had someone there to protect you. 

It’s been so hard to sleep knowing what’s out there so you don’t. You haven’t slept or eaten in days and you’re honestly not sure how you’re even still alive. Your stomach grumbles all the time, a constant reminder of how little you have. But you want to push forward to show everyone who doubted you just how strong you are. 

You get further into the woods, making your steps light just in case you come across anyone even though it’s been so long since you’ve actually seen another human. That is, until you come across two bodies in sleeping bags. It’s an older man and a teenage girl from the looks of it. They’re both asleep so you try your best to just get out of that as quickly as possible. Until you step on a stick, the thing crunching underneath your boot. 

You try to get out of there as soon as you can, but the man is already sitting up, reaching for his gun. You hold yours up and point it at him, your hands trembling in fear. You’ve only had to use it a few times and you’re always terrified to take another life. It’s mostly just used for intimidation. 

The man and the girl who’s now awake hold their hands up in surrender. You’re shaking like a leaf, tears streaming from your eyes and it’s obvious to him that you’re not a threat, you’re just scared. You feel weaker than before but you still want to remain strong. You want to show these people not to underestimate you. 

The man stands from his sleeping bag, slowly making his way over to you, his hands still raised. He reaches for the gun but you back up, adjusting your grip on the gun which does no good because of how sweaty they are. 

“I’m not infected,” you tell him in a defensive tone. 

“No one said you were,” he replies, stepping closer as if you’re a spooked animal and you back away even more. “I’m Joel and this is Ellie. What’s your name?” Your vision is doubling as it blurs and you know what’s about to happen. As soon as you’re about to reply, you collapse, Joel catching you at the last second. 

Your eyes flutter open as the sun shines right in them. You sit up quickly, looking at your surroundings. You’re in a sleeping bag and Joel and Ellie are a few feet away from you, chowing down on something that you can’t quite make out. Where are you? How long were you out? You’re so hungry and you know that’s the reason why you fainted in the first place. 

They took care of you. You’re sure that if your fainting had happened with anyone else that they would have just packed up and left, leaving you to be killed by someone or something else. You’re grateful for it, more than they’ll ever know. 

Ellie nudges Joel then points to you. He turns around and his eyes light up once he sees that you’re awake. He grabs something that you can’t see then makes his way over to you with a plate. He holds it out to you and you take it eagerly, eating so quickly like he’s going to take it away from you. 

You think he’s going to back over to his spot, but he doesn’t. He sits next to you, watching you eat in silence, the only sound that can be heard is your fork scraping across the plate. You’re surprised you’re still alive, surprised that he didn’t just leave you for dead. 

“Thank you,” you tell him, your voice so low that he almost doesn’t hear you. In the twenty years since this whole thing started, he hasn’t encountered many people that were actually appreciative of his generosity. He doesn’t know why, but he feels the need to protect you. 

“You’re welcome,” he nods towards you before handing you a bottle of water. You stare at him, setting your fork down on your plate as you do so, your eyes narrowing into slits in suspicion as you take in his features. You’d never tell him how attractive you find him but if things were different…if they were the way they were twenty years ago, you think that maybe you’d ask him out. 

“Why didn’t you just leave me for dead?” The question isn’t surprising so Joel doesn’t know why he’s so shocked by it. Maybe it’s the hint of suspicion in your voice that he can hear. 

“I just couldn’t.” Joel doesn’t actually know why he decided to help you. Maybe it’s because Ellie didn’t want to leave or maybe it’s because he felt bad leaving you here for somebody else to find. 

“Well, I appreciate it. You’re the first person who’s actually been kind to me.” You know you shouldn’t get all mushy but you can’t help it. You’ve been through hell and back these past few weeks and finally coming across another human who’s treated you with nothing but kindness makes you remember that not everyone is selfish even though they most likely have every right to be. 

You feel tears welling up in your eyes and Joel finds himself reaching up to wipe them away. His fingers are rough but they feel so nice against your cheeks. He pulls away too soon but you’re grateful for what he’s giving. He’s never thought of himself as a good comforter, but he tries when it’s necessary. 

“What about-” His words are cut off by Ellie hurrying to grab her things, cursing loudly, screaming Joel’s name repeatedly. There’s loud footsteps moving in the direction of your site and Joel helps you to your feet, shoving you behind him as he holds up his gun, aimed at the bodies that he can barely make out through the trees. 

You grab onto his jacket, burying your face into his back as he turns, the intruders entering the space now, weapons aimed at the three of you. You dare to peek around Joel to take in the person who seems to be the leader. Your eyes widen and you gasp as you quickly hide yourself again. 

He has his five minions split up, going through all of the cans and other few food items Joel and Ellie brought with them. Tensions are high as the leader steps forward slowly, holding his knife out towards Joel. 

“Let us have the cans and no one gets hurt. Maybe if I’m feeling generous.” 

Joel doesn’t care about the cans anymore. Most of it is expired anyway and he can get food elsewhere. Putting up a fight isn’t worth your or Ellie’s lives. He wants to shoot this guy in his smug face and if he were alone, he definitely would. He wonders where he gets off, wonders how brave he would be if he didn’t have any weapons. 

No fucking way is this actually happening. You escaped to get away from him and now here is trying to take things that aren’t his just like usual. The cans clatter as they’re stuffed in bags, the man pressing the very tip of the knife to Joel’s throat.

“Stop!” You command as you step out from behind Joel, pushing him out of the way so that the knife is now pointed at you. 

“Well, look what we have here,” the man laughs. He’s thinner than what you remember which makes sense since it’s been months you last saw him. He’s the whole reason why you left and now that he’s here in front of you, threatening to kill you and two other innocent people just for some canned food is about to send you into a panic attack. 

“Johnny, stop,” you put your hands up, talking in the tone that always seemed to calm him down, but that seems to anger him even more. 

“I thought you were dead,” he replies, taking a step forward as you step backwards until you back into Joel whose hands rest on your shoulders in a protective manner. “Oh, so this is who you left me for. Does he know about the baby or should I tell him?” All the blood drains from your face. You should have known he would use that against you. He didn’t even want the baby so you don’t know why he’s so offended by seeing you with Joel.

Joel’s eyes widened as stepped to the right so he could get a look at you. You strip off your heavy jacket to reveal your stomach, pressing your hands to the small bump, tears pricking your eyes once again. All of the pain Johnny caused you that you tried to block out is all coming forward and now you’re full on sobbing. 

“Oh, you didn’t know she was pregnant? Three months and it’s a girl.” He says the last word in disgust. He made it clear that he would only be in the picture if you were having a son and as soon as he found out it was a girl, he became distant, telling you that you could raise the thing on your own. And you would. 

The only reason why you even wanted to keep it was because of him. You thought the three of you would be a family and the love he once felt for you is all gone, all because you couldn’t give him the son that he wanted. You know it’s not your fault, but he wants you to think that it is. Being mad at you is the only way he won’t feel guilty for not going after you when you left. 

You collapse onto the ground, sobs continuing to rake through you as Johnny and his group flee the site. Joel gets onto his knees beside you, his hands running up and down your back as he tries his best to comfort you. He’s not upset with you and why would he be? Your pregnancy has nothing to do with him. You’re just a person who’s passing through who he’ll never see again so really it doesn’t even matter to him. 

“Hey, let’s get up,” he says as he helps you to your feet. He moves to stand in front of you, wiping your tears from your cheeks. “C’mere.” He pulls you to his chest, his hands continuing to move up and down your back as you cry into his chest. This all you’ve been wanting for months and relief rushes through you as you’re finally able to let your feelings out. 

You stay like that for a while Ellie gives the two of you some privacy as he fixes up what Johnny and his friends messed up. She’s never seen Joel treat anyone like that and even though it’s odd in her eyes, she’s glad it’s you that’s getting his attention. You clearly need it after what just happened. 

“Why don’t you finish your dinner and then we can head out?” He asks, nodding his head towards your abandoned plate that was somehow untouched. 

“You’re letting me come with you?” You reply as you reach for your plate and finish up what’s left of it as quickly as possible. 

“Sure, why not?” He nudges your shoulder then takes your now clean plate. Together, the three of you gather your stuff and Joel is quick to carry your backpack, wrapping an arm around your shoulder as you move through the woods, onto your next resting spot.

[thebookbutterfly]

fanfiction isn’t enough, I need to chew on him