#mean joel miller

[penvisions]

gone to the dogs {chapter 2}

Pairing: Boston QZ! Joel Miller x F! Reader, brief mention of Joel Miller x Tess Servopoulos

Summary: You set off to scout for a meeting with the man Tess has been in contact with over the radio. Only to find out it’s two men and you know one of them.

Word Count: 7.5k

Warnings: canon typical violence, canon typical language, canon typical gore, outbreak fic, age gap (only by about ten years), dark fic, dark joel miller, mean joel miller, joel miller is uptight, degrading language, sexual language, sexual proposition, violence, heated interactions, adult language, fighting, argumentative language, mutual disdain, sexual content, implication of sex work, unprotected piv (mentioned), sexual acts, choking, oral (m and f receiving), dom/sub dynamics if you squint, joel is bossy, some 69 action (idk don't look at me), anal play, reader is snarky, reader meets joel toe-to-toe with insults and it's amazing both reader and joel pov, lemme know if there are any i missed!

*we have a nickname reveal, in reference to one of the most known guard dog breeds (cause i think i'm funny lol)

A/N: something possessed me and the next thing i know this chapter was on the word document. don't look at me, i have no clue what i'm doing 🫣okay, bye

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It was dark, curfew for the zone only an hour off. The sparse streetlights illuminating the rather humiliating display of the street, outlined with bodies hidden in the shadows of stoops, of power lines chaotically spread out above, of the dirt and grime that seemed to coat every fucking inch of what the world had become. Despite the strict regulations of cleanliness, trash and debris from the ravage of bombs dropped on the larger cities lingered about. The roads barely maintained and only for the vehicles controlled by FEDRA.

It wasn’t the most sanitary of places to live, but you made it work for you. Clinging to life, even if it was a shadow of what that once meant. You tried not to dwell on that line of thinking for too long.

But you hummed a little as you felt the weight of a thick stack of ration cards tucked into your back pocket. This particular part of the zone was known for its more…salacious activity and trade. A place you knew would be ripe with rewards for very little work on your part. The feeling of drying spend wasn’t a comfortable one, as it stuck and hardened on the skin of your stomach and back. But it was a small price to pay for a months’ worth of food and the small smirk from Joel and Tess once you handed over some of the cards.

Earn your keep, that had been the only rule barked at you when first hashing out understands for your partnership with them both. Joel had seemed to stare into your very soul to get the point across, while Tess had been far more cordial, seeking you out after finding you to be one of the best scouts whose services were fought after. Before they had shown up in the dingy zone, you had been a free agent. A rather successful one on your own. Hopping from one smuggler to the next if their offers were good enough, but with those two it had all stopped. You were loyal to them now.  Circumstance and mild comfortability in favor of constantly watching out for deals gone bad or men who thought you were a part of them.

And you agreed to an even split if it meant they would watch your back. They had come to you after all, you needed a little more from the deal if you were willingly work with only two people as opposed to those who sought you out and who you knew would trade what you asked for. The timing of their arrival one of the few good things you believed to be whatever higher power existed smiling down on you with pity. The loss of your brother had been harsh, hung in front of a crowd and practically announcing to the zone you no longer had protection.

You could hold your own as well as needed, but the world was cruel. You had been offered less than satisfactory terms since his death, cajoled into doing jobs under threat of report and even the barrel of a gun or two. It had been a tough two years of trying to maintain your reputation, a few lives lost in the endeavor when you had been challenged in ways you refused to put up with.

The first had been a man who had taken it upon himself to be your new ‘alpha’, to watch over you and ensure you were safe under his vigilant eye. But his name hadn’t carried the same weight at your own, the nickname ascribed to you accurate for a once well-known breed of guard dog. When he had tried to force you to submit to him, you had torn into his neck with nothing but your teeth, hands tied behind your back as you woke to the man in your apartment once news of your brother’s passing had spread to every corner of the zone.

Another had been a woman who attempted to sell you out to the very soldiers who relied on you for narcotics. She had found herself thrown into a cell and once released she had come at you with a knife while you worked a job around the city under the guise of falling in line with every other citizen. The exchange had ended with her clutching to the knife imbedded in thigh and you with a long red marks from her nails as she had screamed at your resistance to be taken out.

People had been willing to work with you, knowing the knowledge you had was abundant and the things you offered for trade were scarce. But as with everything, things had begun to dry up. The longer time went on, the harder it was to maintain the abundance of items deemed contraband or frivolous. But the stash you had hidden held on for quite a while. Posing as another version of yourself, you had stolen entire collections from people who were new to the zone and decided to try and work around you or shoulder you out of the scene. Not knowing it was you people were referring to when the name Cane was spoken until they took their last breath or mysteriously disappeared as soon as they had arrived.

Until Joel and Tess.

They had staked you out, gone into your apartment to get a feel for who you were but when faced with the consequences of their actions, they had been willing to talk it out. Someone must’ve warned them that newcomers who weren’t willing to play along with how things operated here disappeared or were found dead, a warning in and of itself for them. They had expected to just do recon, to see what you had going on with the aid of Tommy Miller down the hall as a lookout. A scout.

But they hadn’t known that’s what you were above all. Aware of your surroundings at all times, never caught without your guard down. Tommy had been taken out long before you had entered your apartment that night. The first signal that something was different. The younger Miller brother had gotten flustered at your approach, offering the man a night of pleasure since he was new and deserved to see what the zone had to offer. He had been knocked out cold before he could even answer your feigned advance. He often stayed behind, letting his two companions work alongside you while he tried to keep his head down and do as FEDRA asked. Something Joel said he was a fool to do, but didn’t dissuade him from.

He had revealed that his longer absences from the apartment they had been assigned, right beside yours, were because of his work with the group known as the Fireflies. Some members of which you used to do work with. Warning him of their willingness to cause chaos in ways they though were liberating but ended up being destructive and damning. But he hadn’t heeded your genuine words born of concern. Not wanting him to face the same fate as your bother. Joel had been even more difficult to work with when Tommy had disappeared one day with nothing but a note saying he was with a group of them assigned for relocation. He had been even more brutal since then not even a year after they had arrived, the sting of betrayal and abandonment needing to be let out somehow. And Joel Miller was capable of great brutality.

He also happened to be stepping out from a shadowed awning just across the street. An ununiformed officer slinking away with a tight grip on something in his hand.

The satisfaction of having just duped some poor suckers out of their cards shifted to something else, something akin to shame at being caught with muzzle in something that wasn’t yours to be had. You had hidden the…visits you made here from your brother, something you had done with you both first arrived in the desolate excuse of a zone. Lectured and pleaded with once he had found out, begging you to stop because it wasn’t what he wanted for you, what he didn’t want you to feel like you had to do. But you did and that was the stark truth. It was always something you could fall back on.

“What the hell are you doing?” Joel’s words were sharp, his chocolate curls tousled in the wind you had to shake the urge to reach up and tangle your hands in them.

“Conducting business. Same as you.” The words are spit from your twisted mouth, not liking the tone he approached you with or the hard glare that molded his features. What you were doing was none of his concern, you didn’t belong to him. You didn’t like how your body was responding to him lately, and you idly wondered if your finicky cycle was about to make a rare resurgence.

“The only business here is…” His eyes flick to the crumbling building behind you, a well-known house of pleasure. The man who had just been inside you exited and jaunted down the steps, pausing as he noticed the two of you staring each other down. When Joel’s eyes focused on him, he took off at a brisk pace.

“Yup.” You turned and started walking back toward the center of the zone.

“Didn’t take you for a whore.” Steps not faltering as he falls in line beside you, it’s easy to shrug off his slight judgement. It had only been a year of working with him, but you knew him well enough to know that if he really didn’t like something he would just silently brood over it. Whatever he was trying to do now, was simply get a rise out of you just for the sake of doing it. He was cheeky in his own way, even if it was always at your expense. But the same could be said of you, you always berated him for not listening completely to things you and Tess discussed.

“Well, this whore just earned all three of us a month’s worth of cards. Each.”

“And you’re proud of that, aren’t ya? Whorin’ yourself out for a little food.” He digs his claws in deeper, when he doesn’t get the reaction he was expecting. But it was late and you truly weren’t bothered by his words. He was right, you had just sold your body. It was your right as a woman to do with your body as you pleased and if it earned you something then, what? Shame wasn’t something you let yourself feel, not for this. The only negative thing about spending your time at the pleasure house was that you never left with the same satisfaction of your clients. The men weren’t there for that, they went for themselves and themselves alone.

“You took all the pills for your trades. Didn’t leave me much to trade with.” You throw back at him with only a slight uptick of volume, but your words held the truth. Tess had given him all of the pills from yesterdays’ foray into what remained of the city around the zone. You had been given the firearms, opting to keep them as part of your stash for the time being instead of trading them.

“You could’ve asked for some.” He’s looking straight ahead when you turn to see him a little more clearly in your periphery. His profile is strong, the hook of his nose and the fullness of his lips obvious against the streetlights.

“I don’t ask for things I can’t afford. Not from anyone and certainly not from you.” You can’t help the bite in your words, as if the idea of him willingly giving you a part of what he intended to trade was even fathomable. He may be the muscle of the group, the attack dog people kept their eyes on and ears on alert for. But even so, he also did nearly as much legwork as you did, if not more at this point. You and Tess working together to orchestrate the trades and caches of contraband to steal or loot.

“Fine.” He grunts, hands shoved in his front pockets.

“Fine.” You parrot, not willing to let him have the last word.

When you turned at the entrance of an alley, he didn’t see the shadow of the person lying in wait until they shifted. But you seemed to have known they were going to be there, because you were suddenly ducking beneath the person’s reaching arms and slamming their front to into the brick. The woman shouted out as her forehead thudded harshly against the wall, her arms twisted behind her back and tight in your grip.

“I told you last time, no payment no pills.” Your voice is threateningly low as you crowd against the woman who had tried to ambush you. Joel only watches, his gaze heavy on your back as you hold your own. Showing no mercy to the woman whose position you easily could’ve fallen into yourself. But you had stopped the excessive use, opting to trade nearly everything you could and only keeping a minor stash for yourself should you need to make a run for it.

“He-he told me to!”

“Don’t care, you come at me again, either of you and I’ll cut you in your sleep.”

“You would-wouldn’t!”

“Wanna try me?” You pull her away from the wall, the dull streetlights illuminating her bloodied and tear-stained face. “Go home. Find me when you have what I want.”

“Y-yes, I’m so sorry, Cane.”

When you turn your back on the alley, the woman running through the narrow space and out the other side, Joel is merely standing there with his arms crossed. Denim pulled taut over his broad shoulders and biceps at the stance. His lips are upturned a bit, his eyes dark in the fallen night, but it isn’t until you glance down at his waist are you sure of what he was really thinking.

The hard outline of him through the denim of his jeans is obvious. He had gotten turned on, aroused, and it sends a thrill of proud excitement through your own body. Whether it was from either seeing you walk out of a well-known pleasure house, beat up an empty-handed solicitor, or both you weren’t sure.

But you tilted your head back as you sauntered up to him as close as you could. Apparently, that was more than okay with him because you pushed your chest against his crossed arms, the soft give of them pressed to his forearms while you trailed a finger lightly over his zipper. The hinge of his jaw jumped, the muscle there twitching from the barely there touch, his brow furrowing as he looked down to catch your glittering eyes.

“Wanna take up that offer for relief?”

“Thought you didn’t ask for things you couldn’t afford.” His words are hard, though you see through them, through him. He wasn’t going to outright ask you, he never would.

“I could certainly afford to lose an evening spent prying open a can of too-old green beans if it means you’d calm the hell down a bit.”

“What makes you think I need you for that?” He cocks his head to the side slightly, mirth dancing behind his eyes as he notices he one upped you. Because damn if he hadn’t. You knew him and Tess were…whatever it was they were. The way he listened to her and made sure she had what she needed was first on his priorities from day one, it was obvious. A man like him seemed to need someone to look after, his purpose was her livelihood. And she was his. Even if they weren’t obvious about it, the signs were there.

The every so often thuds of their bed against the wall, the moans and panting breath that sounded as if it was in your own apartment and not theirs next door, the way Joel walked a little straighter the next day and Tess was a little more willing to go along with plans that didn’t have great payoffs with the argument that it was at least something.

It was something that was unspoken between all three of you, something Tommy had only brought up twice with you when you were both alone. He hadn’t been jealous, at least not in the way that made you feel sorry for him. It was because he didn’t see a point to it if it wasn’t genuine and if he had learned anything in the collapse of the world, it was that his older brother was all the things he never thought he would be. That he knew it was a way for Joel to feel wanted and useful, something he was jealous of only because he had once been someone who relied on his brother. Still had until the second he left, unable to handle the decline of the person he had grown up with and cared for.

You couldn’t fault him for that. Sibling relationships and dynamics were hard even when the world was good. The demise of someone wasn’t always of bloodshed, infection, or the quieting of their heart. It was sometimes the inability to recognize and the horror of realization that it had been a long time since you had been able to see them as they were. It had been too much for Tommy, you didn’t fault him for running. But it left you with the obviously bonded pair he had left behind and for that you cursed him.

Your own loneliness apparent when the only person you could call a ‘friend’ had left you behind too.

“Didn’t wanna fuckin’ touch you anyway.” Voice level, you realize you weren’t in the mood to play with him now his harsh denial floats in the thick air between you.

The combination of your melancholy thoughts and Joel’s words stings and you turn away from him, boots barely guiding you away before your arm is in the man’s grip and he’s turning you back to face him with a harsh jerk.

“Hey, that wasn’t a no.”

“Sure as hell sounded like it to me.” You try to yank your arm back from him, to put as much distance between you as possible, only he tightens his grip.

“Don’t offer shit if you’re not gonna follow up.” He reprimands, voice low with the edge of a threat.

“Go find Tess.” You feel your lips curl around the woman’s name.

“Don’t want Tess.” His words shouldn’t have the effect on you that they do. But the dissatisfaction of not finding your own release hits you like a weight. The visits you made to that part of the zone always disappointing in that department. Your pleasure was never the goal. Your body begins to hum at the implication of them, at the implication of him wanting you.

“Too bad, you picked the wrong moment to feign disinterest and I don’t wanna play with you anymore.”

“That all it is, playin’?”

“Only thing it could be, you don’t seriously think I want you, do you?”

“I think you’re afraid to admit you do, yeah.”

“I could go straight back to that pleasure house and get what I need.”

“Yeah, but it ain’t what you want. ‘Cause I’m standing right here.”

“You’re so full of yourself,” Turning your back on him, you ascend the few steps into the main floor of the apartment building. He’s right behind you, the heat of his body only a few steps of distance away. He manages to keep up as you quickly scale the stairs up to the floor your apartments are on. The sensation of being chased prickles your skin into goosebumps, it raises the hairs on the back of your neck and makes your cunt throb in anticipation of being caught.

“Think you wanna be full a’me, otherwise you wouldn’t offer so damn much.” The thought sends a spark of arousal straight down your spine, igniting the smoldering kindling of your earlier activities as you finally step onto the flattened floor of your hall.

“Just tired of being around you when your dick is doing all the thinking. Makes it so I have to do twice as much work to keep things going smoothly.”

“Then clear my head, be a good little lap dog for me.”

“No. Told you I don’t wanna play with you anymore.”

“Too bad, cause I ain’t done with you.”

“Joel, I swear to fucking god-“

“You gotta learn to shut that god damn mouth when you’re ahead, darlin’.” Before you could blink, your back is being pressed up against his door. One of his thighs are between your legs and pressing up into your aching core, one of his hands is tight around your neck, pinning you between the hardness of the door and the strong line of his broad body. His eyes are looking between your own, his lips part to speak again but it isn’t what you were expecting.

“You scared?” He asks in a low voice, vulnerability and concern swirl in a shadow curling behind his words. He was making sure you were okay and really wanted this and the thought makes your body shiver. The thought that he wouldn’t truly engage with you this way if you didn’t want it is the bare fucking minimum but it rounds out into another full glimpse of the man he is, of who he used to be.

His other hand snakes around your waist once he’s got the door unlocked and it’s no longer holding you up.

The door is kicked shut behind him, the slam echoing through the hallway enough to insight a few shouts of dismay. But his focus is on you, only on you. His hooded eyes dark as he takes in the dilation of your pupils and the hitch of your breath as he corrals you toward the bed. Definitely not scared.

“Only part a you that listens, huh?” He sneaks a pair of thick fingers beneath the waistband and finds you already so slick. “This all you?”

“Don’t let cum in me, if that’s what you’re askin’.” His fingers are the perfect pressure as they dip between your folds, and you hear the sound he makes deep in his chest even if his lips remain shut. A chip in his usual demeanor, a small flicker of that same weakness you had stumbled on the first time you condescendingly offered to blow him.

“Good.” He rasps. “Sit down.”

“Mutual relief,” He grunts as he senses your quiet confusion, the heat of his intent rises up your chest and over the apples of your cheeks, brows furrowing as it doesn’t quite compute. Confusion gives way to a spark, that low simmering heat thrumming in your body catching fire and licking across your entire body. “That’s how we’re gonna do this, y’hear me? Won’t leave you like those other men. Now sit.”

You do, heeding the command as you attune to him, body jostling as you set yourself on the edge of his shared bed, everything else a blur around him. The apartment is barely illuminated by the streetlights trickling in through the sorry excuse of curtains still pulled back on the window. Just enough light to see him, to see how big he is as he begins to kneel before you, hands reaching for your jeans. You can only watch as he undoes them and peels them from your legs, the only pair you have that have molded to your body from years of relying on them. You’re about to ask him what he’s doing when he tilts his head up and your completely naked from the waist down.

“She’s gonna be back soon.” You don’t worry about getting caught but you’d rather not have an audience for the submission you were too weak to resist. Body responding to him with an intoxicating ease, the curiosity if what he means by mutual relief too much of a temptation. If there was anyone who was worthy of it, it was Joel, even if you loathed basically everything about him. Too similar and too rife with the same qualities and tendencies for violence, too much of a mirror of who you were at the very core of your soul.

“She’s busy setting up the meeting for tomorrow,” He’s suddenly standing, his own clothing being peeled away to land on the floor with your own. His chest is dusted with the same dark brown atop his head, his skin the same bronze of his forearms and weathered face. The rest of his body is just as beautiful as the parts you’re allowed to see. But now all of him is on display, languidly laid out atop the bed as he grips his impressive length in a fist, pumping once before he’s reaching for you.

He manhandles you to straddle his stomach, your slick shining on his hot skin as you’re suddenly face to face with his dripping cock. And it’s so beautiful you can’t help the moan that crawls it’s way up from your ribcage and past your lips as lean forward to grip him with a much smaller hand than his. He’s so thick you can barely wrap your hand around all of him, something he chuckles darkly over as you feel one of his palms land with a sharp slap along your ass. You know he’s watching the ripple of your skin, the irritation of his action spring to life on your skin, the goosebumps that chase the shiver that runs down your spine and you feel yourself flutter around nothing.

“I said,” He gripped your hips painfully tight in his large hands, blunt nails digging into your flesh and pulls you down completely. His nose bumps into your puffy clit and you can’t help but cry out at the bolt of pleasure that rips through you. “Sit the fuck down.”

You were gone before the first swipe of his tongue through your slick folds, just the hot breath from his perfectly pouty mouth was enough to make your body sing. When the wet heat of his tongue licked through your folds, your eyes flutter shut at the scintillating feeling, his palms are wide across your cheeks as he pulls them apart to see all of you and you gasp at the wet sound. You feel your skin pull and you’re keening out a pathetic sound as his nose bumps against the puckered hole previously hidden from him. The fire coursing over your body, trying to catch the air of the room outside your body to roar, it’s only spurred on by the feel of him, hungry and taking what he wanted from the most intimate part of you.

“C’mon now, use that mouth for somethin’ other than talkin’.” He takes a moment, the barest, to lean back and bark the words at you. There wasn’t anything mutual about you going limp in his grip and you feel the tug of humiliation at folding so quickly and forgetting who had started this whole exchange in the first place.

He’s teasing you. But two can play at that game, you think even as pleasure roils too hot through your veins. Gripping his proudly standing cock more firmly at the base, you lower yourself, back arching and thighs tightening around his middle and press feather light kisses to his ruddy, leaking tip.  

He’s surprisingly loud, from the rumbles you can feel vibrating deep in his chest, to the slurps of his mouth as it moves against you, to the heavy pants he breaths in an out when he dares to pull away from between your legs. He’s never this loud with her, and the thought sends a thrill through you causing you to gush around his tongue as it slips inside. You can’t help your own moan around the head of his cock as you swallow it down, swirling your tongue over him as you taste him for the first time.

The grunt that vibrates through your folds as you swallow him down is satisfaction enough. He’s heavy on your tongue, the slight curl of him as at the angle allows for the underside of his cock to nudge along the ridges of the roof of your mouth, his blunt nails digging into your skin. You feel the vein just as clearly and he throbs, causing drool to dribble down to his heavy sack.

His teeth close around your clit, nibbling there as you begin to bob up and down at a fast pace. He’s suddenly thrusting up, his hips canting at the sensation and you gag as he hits the back of your throat.

“Take it,” He husks, doing it again. You retaliate by pressing back against him, body flat atop his as you relax your throat for him to continue. The air is thick with the scent of mutual arousal, everything coated in slick and sweat, your plain shirt sticking to your skin as heat crackles in the stagnant air. The smell of him is heady, all musk and something distinctly him as your nose nestles in the thatch of coarse hairs that he doesn’t keep trimmed, the soft velvet of his sack so hot against your face.

You hum as he stills, his thighs shaking beneath your hands as you try to support yourself. He slips from your mouth and the heft of him slaps into your cheek as you cry out at the intrusion of a slick thumb. You feel his grin as he nudges the digit further into your puckered hole, a sensation you hadn’t felt before.

“Never had anyone in here.” He boldly preens, reading the way your own body begins to tremble as you gush, there’s no way he missed it being buried in your cunt. Your only response is to grip him with one hand and resume a brutal pace, breath barely squeezing through your nostrils as you take him as deep as you can again and again. It’s loud, it’s lewd, it’s intoxicating the way he slurps and licks, nibbles and presses. The scratch of his facial hair against your inner thighs lighting you up, building up heat and pleasure in your lower abdomen. He’s twitching, from his fingers to his cock, to the thick thighs beneath you.

It's brutal the way you’re pushed to the edge, the fire taking your body for its own, brought on by unforgiving pace matched by unforgiving pace. Two people still playing for dominance even as you both relish in the tantalizing pleasure of the game. He seems determined to get you there before he finds his own release, and you clench around him he pushes you over the edge, his tongue lapping up everything you’ve given him as you feel his own muscles tense, before he’s spilling hot down your throat at the feeling of your suppressed moan all around him.

Panting, you release him from your mouth, swallowing down everything he had given you in return. The tart taste of him something you never anticipated getting a taste of. Your thighs burn as you push yourself up, the overwhelming dribble of his saliva and the remnants of your release are obvious as your cunt presses to his chest. You’re sure he can see the small bubbles of it as your folds close together, hiding from him where he had just buried his face. He seems to disagree with the shift in position because you’re suddenly face down on the covers of the bed, ass up in the air as he drapes himself over your back.

His thick fingers effortlessly trace your slit, fingers sparking another crest as he plunges two deep into your still fluttering core. You can’t bite back the guttural sound that claws its way from your chest as he curls them and begins to press them against a spot that most men ignore. You feel the length of him soft against the back of your thighs, unable to get it up again so soon after his own release, but it’s like he knows he could pull another orgasm from your willing body.

You hear the crack of his wrist as he pounds his fingers into you, straightening them out for the tips to kiss that spot deep inside and you cry out when he finds it. Head shooting up from the bed as your back arches in a silent plea for more.

“There it is, feels good don’t it, darlin’?” His words are gravel in your ear, the burn of his scruff against your neck welcome as he pushes you over the edge again far too quickly. The moan that rips from you is loud, nearly a wail in its intensity. Something he’s guaranteed to comment on. But he surprises you when he buries his nose into your hair as you clench and gush around his fingers. Nothing but an answering moan of his own floats into the air.

As suddenly as he had been on you, he’s no longer pressed against you. The heat of his body gone in the slow blink of an eye and shuddering pull of breath.

He’s across the room with a creak of the mattress and a shift of the floorboards under his weight. The sound of the shower being turned on is the only clue as to where he’s gone when you turn your head in search of him. Your body is shaky as you move into a normal position, the one you started in, perched at the edge of his shared bed. You quickly pull on your socks, your jeans, stuff your feet into the boots he had unlaced and shucked from you in his haste. Your underwear is nowhere to be found and you don’t linger on what that could mean as you exit the apartment.

An hour later you’re slinking through the space beneath a stretch of chain link fence, pulling the board of plywood that settles over it as another pair of hands disperses dirt over it to hide the hole. Your mind is calm, but your chest feels like an overinflated balloon as you seem to hold your breath for far too long.

Only once the lights of the zone are a mile behind you, do you stop and let it all out in a heavy exhale.

“We leavin’ before the sun or after?” Joel breaths the words out on a heavy exhale, his heart beating fast in beneath his ribs. Tess takes a moment to catch her own breath before she grants him an answer, reaching over for the water glass sweating on the floor beside the bed. Her eyes trail over the naked expanse of his chest, fingers reaching to comb through the hair beginning to show the same threading of silver as the hair atop his head. He doesn’t feel anything when she does, his body satiated from the shared pleasure he had initiated in his half-asleep state after hearing people begin to stir all along the hall in the early hour.

Her breasts catch his eye, the way the jiggle and sway with her motions to slump back against the collection of flat pillows at the head of the bed. He idly wonders what you’ve got hidden beneath your own clothing and as soon as the thought crosses his mind, he frowns. She turns to him, after her own eyes drag up his body, from the knee he props up to relieve his back a little, the softening bulge of him hidden beneath the sheet, to the way he watches her with something behind his eyes.

“Before. Cane’s already left. We don’t have the advantage of her helping guide us in person.”

“What?” He sits up, the sheet falling to hide his lap as his knee flattens.

“She left hours ago. Weren’t you paying attention?” Tess doesn’t budge, though it’s obvious that his reaction is unusual and he knows she’s thinking it.

“Stupid girl,” He mutters as he stands, the sheet falling from him completely as he reaches to pull on his discarded jeans. The belt clinks as he fastens it, but Tess doesn’t move at all.

“She can handle her own, Joel. You’ve seen it firsthand.”

“That’s all fine and dandy but this is a new trade partner. And you’ve been the only one in contact with them. Through the radio. Could be a trap.”

“You think I’m stupid enough to send out our scout into a potential trap?”

“Think we shoulda all left together, is all.”

“Why are you worried about her?”

“I’m not, don’t put words in my mouth.” He balks, unable to tame his anger at being scrutinized. He knows he’s acting out of character, but the possibility of there being a threat is real. If you’re really out beyond the parameters of the zone and well past the city limits there’s no where for you to seek cover.

“Joel-“

“Drop it, Tess.” He barks, unable to hide his frustration, to tame it as it flares as quickly and rapidly as a wildfire.

“Alright.” She pushes up from the bed, padding through their shared space bare as she gathers a clean pair of clothes and shuts the bathroom door behind her. Joel knows the scent of sex lingered in the stagnant air of the apartment, that she would be able to tell if was different from times before. Because it hadn’t been just him taking seeking pleasure, he had been doing so with you. As frustrating and bullheaded and downright petulant as you were, there was no denying the scent of you two tangled up that had encompassed the room in such a heady way.

Grunting, Joel rests on the edge of the bed. Adrenaline coursing through his veins as he recalls the night before. He had been rash in his decision to take you up on your offer, the second in as many days, for some ‘relief to calm him the hell down’ as you put it. A line had been crossed but he was like a dog after his first taste of actual food, craving and hungry for more. Willing to get it at any cost and the want burns his skin, boils his blood, consumes him. You had been his for that small bubble of time and he feels the possession sear as it brands him into a different man.

He wasn’t daft, he knew you had soft spots beneath all that rough and violent exterior. Everyone did. But he hadn’t expected to obsess over how sweet it had been for you to roll over and show him, to submit to him the way you had. The way he had with you in return, even if you weren’t aware of it. But the obsession to have rid you of the smell of the other men that had touched you, marked you, filled you had been too much. He wanted them all to smell the lingering scent of him on your skin the next time you decided to visit that pleasure house. And that was the thought that didn’t sit well with him. You weren’t his beyond the activities of the night before. And he didn’t want you any more than a dog in heat, your supple skin and taunting words just the trigger to pull the desire from him.

There was no use for desire in what the world had turned into, crumbled into during the last seven years.

The last time he desired, he wanted, he truly felt, had ended in devastation.

It’s well into the day, the sun at its apex as the two of them come into view and your mind quiets a little.

They make such a good-looking pair, you can’t help but think as they walk through the brush into the opening that houses the remains of a quickie mart. You’re sat on the hard ground, the asphalt long cracked and dried, no longer upholding the meaning of its given namesake. Nothing was secure in this world, especially the things created and molded by the hands of man. Nature had taken it all back, destroyed what it didn’t like and infected the rest it couldn’t.

“They check out?”

“Yes, two men. Just like you said.” You stand, ignoring the crackling of your joints as you do so, aware that you look far less put together than either of them. You had been rash and immediately after your time in their shared apartment, unwilling to toss and turn in your own bed with your ears on alert for signs of the woman’s return. You had nothing against her, she was good once and maybe still wanted to be beneath it all. There wasn’t some unspoken rule that they were each other’s but you still felt like you had maybe crossed a line, the minute guilt making your stomach churn as you took in the effort she had put into looking nice for today.

Your mind replayed the feeling of Joel’s mouth on you and it brought a scowl to your face as you realized even he looked rather put together. They made a good pair, and you were just on the outskirts. A lap dog indeed, even if they had come to you. Fuck, it made you feel like the weak link, even if deep down you knew you weren’t. They were both smart, strong, cunning, but they still struggled to understand the ways in which you undermined and ensured different paths in and out of the zone. How you seemed to always know who had what to trade and how to get their supply from them with just the right trade offer or threat. They were good, separately and together, but you were better adapted to the zone’s particulars. Better at reading people, even if it meant you could read into your own actions and feelings just as easily.

“They’ve got the whole town secure. Electric fence, operated by one control panel and two remotes. It’s strong, has a sensor if anything touches it. Saw a squirrel get fried. They’ve laid traps all around, some are covered pits, really well hidden. Some are spring traps, a bear trap or two, marks are nondescript and someone not looking for them wouldn’t notice them.”

“But you did.” Joel’s tone drips in disbelief, not at your ability to gather all of the information but that you had practically fled the second he left you alone on the bed the night before to do so.

“Yes.” You don’t look at him, instead keeping eye contact with Tess. “They both around the perimeter in the morning and evenings, it looks like they’re doing it to keep in shape but one of them always has his eyes on the fence. He’s constantly checking for weak points, for repairs or modifications that can be made. There also seems to be cannisters hidden a few feet beneath the main posts for the fence, every fifteen feet or so. Piping runs down to them, I didn’t dig one up but it seems like they may have some sort of fuel. For either a deterrent of an explosion, which I doubt because then it would compromise the structure of the fence, or a flame thrower of some sort to catch people off guard should they get too close and trigger it.”

“You found all that out in just a couple hours?” Tess must share in the man’s sentiment, because her eyes rove over you. Seeing the dirt sunk into your skin, the ruffled appearance of your clothes, the bags underneath your eyes, the frizz of your hair barely contained in a messy bun atop your head.

“You left last night.” It’s not a question, it’s an accurate observation. Joel’s the one to bring it to light and you only nod in agreement. The timing of this new potential trade relation and the passage of time since they had first approached the zone all coming together in their minds.

“Today is…”

“Yes.” You turn away from them, not wanting to talk about it. Never wanting to talk about it, the reason for your loneliness in a world that couldn’t care less.

You hear them exchange words quietly between themselves as you step away to gather your pack, shouldering it and beginning to lead the way to the path that had been outlined for you to approach the town on by those within in. After another mile, all three of your are on a dirt path that leads directly up to the fence. The figures of the men you had spent hours watching over are stood on the other side. But as you get closer, one of them shifts from blurry to start detail. He must recognize you at the same time, because his thick brows disappear into his hairline and his teeth glint in the sunlight as a smile takes over his face, relief and excitement colors the air. Breaking the tension that bathed every interaction in the time of now.

“Bill, she’s the one I told you about!”

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[hauntedhowlett-writes]

Title: crimson red paint on my lips | part 1

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Pairing: Mean Smuggler!Joel Miller/Smuggler! Female Reader

Rating: Explicit (18+ MDNI)

Read on AO3 | Masterlist | Join the tag list

Summary:

Joel Miller is an asshole.

You should have known better than to show up at his door with your lips painted red.

Author’s Note: This is a considerably darker characterization than my other Joel fics. I’d be open to writing more like it, so let me know your thoughts! I’m also open to other requests 💕

Content Warnings/Additional Tags: explicit sexual content (18+), explicit language, mean mean mean Joel Miller, considerable age gap (25F and 56M), degradation, pet names (but mean), rough oral sex (m and f receiving), spitting, choking, crying, v fingering, unprotected p in v, dirty talk, begging, did i mention MEAN???, alcohol use, no aftercare. Let me know if any are missing!

You’ve been searching for more pills in a drugstore that had been well picked over, a wall blown out with glass and rubble everywhere, when you saw the little gold tube on the ground. At first, you thought it was a bullet casing. You’d seen plenty of those before.

But picking it up and dusting it off revealed a seam on the tube and when you pulled it, the top popped off to reveal the creamy red makeup inside.

At twenty-five, you spent most of your life in a QZ, but there are some things you have a hazy memory of from better days. Your mom, sitting at her makeup vanity as a five-year-old version of you looked up at her in awe as she swiped lipstick across her lips. Glossy magazine ads where the women had their mouths painted in a rainbow of shades.

You pocket the tube and continue on, eyes scanning every crevice for missed treasure. You do manage to find one bottle of oxycodone, a pretty big score.

You hear your name being called from the front of the store and you make your way back to the exit.

Joel Miller stands amongst the rubble, arms crossed and face frozen in his permanent scowl. Just the sight of him makes your heart skip a beat, and you know it shouldn’t. He’s much too old for you and just thinks of you as some dumb kid. He told Tess as much when she argued that you should come with them.

When you’re within arms reach, he wraps his broad hand around your bicep in a punishing grip. “Been callin’ for you. You need to pay attention.”

“Was just in the back, sorry,” you reply, wincing at the pinch of his fingers. “What’s wrong?”

“FEDRA agents, we gotta clear out.” He pokes his head around the corner of the building before slamming you back against the brick with his body, his hand slapping over your mouth to cut off your sound of surprise.

The front of his body is pressed tightly to yours and you stare up at him, eyes wide with fear. Heavy booted footsteps echo nearby, the tell tale sound of overconfident FEDRA agents that play gods amongst men. Joel brings a finger to his lips, a command to be quiet even though you can’t make a sound with his broad palm over your mouth.

His forehead tilts to yours as he reigns in his own labored breaths, his eyes falling shut. You shift against him, just slightly, surprised to feel a tell tale hardness pressing into your tummy. Your heart rate kicks up even higher, and it has nothing to do with your fear.

Joel’s jaw clenches and his eyes snap open, piercing you with a stare so cold it sends a shiver down your spine.

When Joel deems the area safe again, he rips his hand from your mouth, eyes dropping briefly to your lips before he turns and stomps away without another word, not bothering to make sure you’re following.

When the two of you meet up with Tess, you hand her the bottle of oxycodone.

“Excellent job, kiddo,” she says with a smile. “See, Joel? Told you she’d be worth it.”

He only grunts in reply, eyes fixed on the ground, and you feel your shoulders drop. You don’t know why, but you’re desperate to prove to him that you’re worthy.

Of what, you’re not sure.

You decide to keep the lipstick for yourself.

________

Joel nearly wanted to strangle Tess when she showed up with you standing at her shoulder. He knew the older woman had a soft spot for taking care of you and making sure you knew how to fend for yourself, ever since you’d turned up at the QZ as a transfer from another city five years ago, twenty-years old with the same haunted stare he recognizes in himself.

But all he can think about when he sees you is getting you on your knees or pressed beneath his body, the scent of sex and sound of your moans drowning out the atrocities beyond the walls of his shitty apartment.

He breaks out the whiskey he keeps for quieting the noise in his head, slamming back two shots of it in quick succession. There’s a tentative knock at his door and he stands with a groan.

Nothing could have prepared him to find you on the other side of the door, a low cut shirt and tight ass jeans holding in your curves. But perhaps the worst part is the crimson red paint on your lips.

He reaches out and grabs you by the shoulder, yanking you inside the apartment and slamming the door. You stumble slightly, surprised at the sudden rough movement, but Joel can’t find it in him to care.

“Are you fuckin’ stupid?” He snaps.

Your mouth drops open in surprise, your eyes wide as you struggle to find words to reply. He steps closer.

“You do know there’s monsters out there, right? Worse than runners, worse than clickers,” he snaps. “And don’t think any low life FEDRA agent would come runnin’ for help if you were screamin’ for it.”

“I-I don’t…I didn’t—“

He’s toe to toe with you now, like he can’t help but be sucked into your orbit. Your eyes are watery as you blink up at him and, god help his soul, he’s dying to see those tears run down your cheeks so he can chase their salty taste with his tongue.

“You didn’t what, sweetheart? Use that fuckin’ brain in your head to make a better decision than showin’ up on my doorstep painted like a goddamn whore?”

Your hand shoots up, aiming to land a slap across his cheek, but he sees it coming. He grabs your wrist, yanking at your arm until he’s got it pinned behind your back. He forces you forward until your cheek is pressed against the discolored wallpaper.

“Let me go,” you growl, struggling beneath him. “You think I’m so goddamn stupid, then let me leave, I’ll never bother you again you fuckin’ asshole.”

Joel laughs, the sound devoid of humor. “That’s where you’re wrong, darlin’. Because you’ll still be out there, lookin’ at me with those big innocent eyes of yours, beggin’ for attention.”

Your breath hitches, and he knows he’s struck a chord. He’s not dumb, he knows you’re desperate for his attention. He sees it in the way your shoulders drop when he walks by you without acknowledging you, or doesn’t include you in the conversation he’s having with Tess.

“Fuck you, Joel,” you snap.

“Oh, honey, I’d love to,” he teases. You go still beneath you. Slowly, he releases the hold he has on you, stepping back. You turn to face him. “Get on your knees. You want my attention so goddamn bad? Show me how much.”

________

Joel Miller is an asshole. You knew this, it’s been obvious in every encounter you’ve had with the older man, but you still showed up at his door.

He’s right. You are a fucking idiot.

But like the strings holding you up have been cut, you drop heavily to your knees, staring up at him for instruction. Your heart is beating out of your chest as he stares down at you with disdain.

“Take my cock out,” he commands. You bring unsteady hands to his belt, fumbling with the buckle. Finally, you free the clasp and rush to open his fly, tugging his jeans low enough to reach in and free his length from its denim confines.

You’re surprised to find it already so hard, the thick length already an angry dark red.

“Don’t just stare at it, princess. Open your mouth,” he says, hand gripping your jaw with bruising fingers as he forces your mouth open. “Tongue out.”

You stick your tongue out and he slaps the head of his cock on it, the action so lewd your face heats with a blush. He laughs, the sound cruel but your thighs clench regardless.

“Don’t get shy on me now, baby,” he says, voice low. He slides further into your mouth and you open wider to accommodate him. “Look at those pretty red lips stretched tight around my cock.”

He begins to thrust, shallow at first, before he picks up the pace, the tip hitting the back of your throat and making you gag. He only pulls back slightly, barely enough for any relief before pressing forward again.

You can feel the tears threatening to spill from the corners of your eyes. Joel withdraws from your mouth completely, allowing you the brief chance to heave in desperate gulps of air. He tilts your chin up and you look up at him from under tear filled lashes.

He drags a thumb from the corner of your eye, collecting the evidence of his harsh treatment and bringing it to his lips as his eyes stay locked with yours.

“You see that, baby?” He asks, nodding to his cock gripped in his hand. “See all that red on my cock? You did that with your little whore mouth.”

You can’t help the tiny whimper that claws its way out of your throat. He smiles, the visage wicked.

“Get on the couch.” You try to stand, but he halts your effort with a hand on your head. “I didn’t say you could stand.”

You blink at him, confused. He only lifts an eyebrow.

You shift forward, planting your hands in front of you, crawling slowly towards the couch. You can feel his eyes on your ass, the whole experience humiliating but you can feel the wetness soaking your panties.

You seat yourself on the couch, waiting for his next instruction. He kneels between your legs, hands finding the button of your jeans with a deftness you could never dream of having. He urges your hips off the cushions as he tears the denim and your panties down in one motion. Next, those confident fingers curl into the hem of your shirt and shove it up only enough to expose your breasts to his dark gaze.

He shifts closer, the broad expanse of his shoulders keeping your legs open as he uses his thumbs to spread your wet folds open to him. You can’t help but clench in anticipation.

“Look at your desperate little hole, clenchin’ around nothin’,” he teases. He purses his lips, spit landing on your heated core and making you arch in surprise, a moan leaving your lips. “Christ, you’re fuckin’ filthy.”

He drags a rough thumb over your clit in slow circles, the sensation all together too much and not enough. Then two of his fingers slide inside of you, a pinch of pain at the sudden intrusion making you whimper. He curls his fingers as he withdraws his hand.

“Joel,” you whisper, voice watery.

“Gonna have to do better than that,” he replies, repeating his motions, faster this time. Again and again his fingers slide into your body, skimming a part inside of you that turns you into a whimpering mess, writhing beneath him on the couch.

“Please, Joel,” you beg, voice louder with this plea.

“Please, what?”

“More,” you beg. A third finger, the stretch painful and glorious, slides into your heat. And as delicious as the filled feeling is, your clit is pulsing with need. “More,” you cry again.

“Don’t get greedy,” he snaps, punctuating his words with a harsh thrust of his fingers.

“Want your mouth, Joel, please?” You beg again.

“What makes you think a desperate little slut deserves my mouth?” He asks. God, he sounds so fucking mean but it just makes you tighten around him.

“I’ve been good, Joel,” you say, voice small. You whimper at another harsh thrust of his fingers. “Please.”

His lips wrap around your clit and he sucks the sensitive nub roughly. Combined with the scratch of his stubble on your inner thighs and the dark look in his eyes as he gazes up your body, the taut thread of your release snaps, you pussy fluttering around his fingers as he keeps up his rough pace until your hips are writhing from your overstimulation.

“Thought you said you were bein’ good,” Joel says as he sits back on his heels. “But good girls ask permission to cum.”

You feel your lower lip tremble slightly, eyes stinging with a fresh wave of tears. “I’m sorry.”

He stands, sitting down heavily on the couch, his cock slapping against his belly. He wraps an arm around your waist, dragging you like a rag doll until you’re in his lap, the warm heat of him sliding through your wetness making you shiver.

“Make me cum,” he says, smacking one of your ass cheeks roughly. “Now.”

You reach between your bodies, holding his cock steady as you position it at your entrance. You slide down with a gasp, the size of him still holding a bite of pain despite the way he’d worked your cunt.

“No more sittin’ still.”

________

Joel’s eyes are fixed where his body meets yours, watching the obscene slide of your tight cunt over his cock with rapt attention. You’re a goddamn mess all over, cheeks stained with tears and lipstick smudged across your lips and chin. Your slick skin slides against him when you grind down on him with a whimper.

“Faster,” he demands. Your hands grip his shoulders for stability as you pick up your pace, bouncing desperately on his dick. He slides a hand around your throat, squeezing the sides roughly. He can feel your pulse intensify against his fingers.

“That’s it, just like that,” he groans. “You sure make a pretty little toy, baby.”

He feels your moan against his hand, the sound music to his depraved mind as he begins to thrust up, meeting each of your downward movements with a harsh smack of his hips.

When he’s balancing on the edge of his release, he withdraws from your body, using that hold on your throat to keep you suspended over his lap, grabbing his cock in a punishing grip. He allows you to drop down onto his knees and you gasp, eyes wide as you look between your bodies and watch as he cums, hot and thick, across your lower belly.

You collapse against his chest, and Joel allows the brief contact while you catch your breath. After a moment, he taps your hip, urging you off of him.

When you’re sitting on the couch, he shoves himself back into his jeans before leaning down to grab your pants, tossing them to you. If you notice that your underwear is missing, you don’t say anything as you pull your pants on. He goes to the bathroom, coming back with a rag that you use to scrape his spend from your skin.

“Go fix yourself in the bathroom,” he says. Without a word, you do as he says, shutting the door with a quiet click.

While you’re in there, he finds a t-shirt of his and clutches it in a white knuckled grip while you do your business behind the closed door. When you emerge, face wiped clean and hair mostly in place, he shoves the shirt into your hands.

“Put that on.” You stare at the bundle in your hands, brow furrowed. “Now.”

You tug the large shirt over your head, slipping your arms through. It hits mid thigh and covers your tits.

Perfect.

“Get out. And don’t come back.”

________

The door shuts behind you, the click of the latch as loud as a gunshot in the hallway.

Joel Miller is an asshole.

And you shouldn’t have expected anything less.

Joel Miller tag list: @huffle-punk @johnwatsn @hopelessromantic727 @whereasport @liati2000 @pedr0swh0r3 @yellingloudly @dragon-of-winterfell @thedeadsingwithdirtintheirmouths @mydailyhyperfixations @ghostofjoharvelle @cutesyscreenname @morgaussy @letsgroovetonighttt

[scrambledslut]

but your honor his big wet princess puppy dog eyes cancels out all the horrors he’s committed

[lotusbxtch]

Juno

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!Reader Word count: 2.2k (lol this was supposed to be a drabble) Rating: Explicit - 18+, MDNI

Summary: Your honeymoon with Joel is off to a bang.

Warnings/tags: honeymoon sex (it’s very feral), unprotected PIV sex (they’re trying to get pregnant but be smart IRL!), oral sex (m and f receiving), big fat breeding kink, pussy pronouns, creampie, cumplay, mentions of foreplay over the clothes, sort-of/accidental voyeurism, very loud sex, rough sex, mentions of marriage/family planning/birth control use, dom!Joel, feral!Joel, references to pregnancy, no outbreak!AU, cursing (but honestly swear words should be the least of your worries for this story lol), Reader is female, has hair that is long enough to put into a ponytail, and able bodied but otherwise not described (it’s you, boo!), no use of y/n

a/n: This is what happens when a horny invasive thought is allowed to take root in my brain. My darling menace @for-a-longlongtime sent me this Reel and it made me… think about things. Combined with the inspiration of the song Juno by Sabrina Carpenter, this is FILTH. Just… filth. But since @mountainsandmayhem and @alltheirdamn literally begged me to write this, here you are, written in a near-fugue state. Not beta’d, we’re doing this thing unprotected, just like Joel lmao. Banners by @saradika-graphics.

MASTERLIST

a/n pt 2: psssssst. Do you like Joel Miller? Do you want *more* Joel Miller? How about a series where not only Joel is your husband, but Frankie is your boyfriend? If so, tap here for SoCal to NorCal, my ongoing series!

I should have closed that damn sliding door.

You knew exactly what was going to happen as soon as you stepped foot into the immaculate, stylish Greek vacation suite you’d booked for your honeymoon with your new husband, Joel Miller. You’d spent the long flight teasing each other incessantly - the lightest of caresses, lingering kisses, surreptitious groping and heavy petting under the luxe blankets afforded to you by your first class seats. Joel couldn’t keep his hands off you most days, but now, fresh from your beautiful wedding as his darling wife? He was absolutely insatiable.

Joel had barely shut the front door on the endlessly kind bellhop before he was on you, ravenous with desire. His large hands began peeling off the soft layers of clothing you’d worn on the airplane, kissing you fervently and moaning into your mouth. You wove your fingers through your hair, tugging lightly when he kissed down your neck. 

“Fuck, Joel,” you whined, and you felt him growl lowly before nipping at your pulse point.

“Been waiting hours to take you apart, baby,” he murmured. Sucking a hickey onto the column of your throat, he laved the spot with his tongue to soothe the light pain. “Teasing me when you knew I couldn’t do shit about it.”

You pulled back on his hair with a yank, making him hiss. “You asked for it. You were the one rubbing circles against my clit through my sweatpants. My panties are ruined because of it.”

“Not my fault your pussy is so juicy,” Joel chuckled. “Especially now that she knows she’s gonna getting dicked down as many times as she can take it in a day.”

A couple months before your wedding, you and Joel discussed your desire to start trying for children. You’d thrown away your birth control after that conversation, but resolved to use other forms of protection until after the wedding.

You nor Joel had packed a single condom for this trip.

“Fuck me, Mr. Miller,” you breathed, moving your hand from his hair down his body to his rock-hard cock. He groaned when you made contact.

“Yes, ma’am, Mrs. Miller,” Joel hummed, walking your naked body backwards towards the bedroom as you pulled at his clothes.

Now, you’re realizing that the sliding door to the ocean-view balcony is cracked open, allowing a lovely coastal breeze in but also letting your cries of pleasure float into the wind. Joel’s face is buried in your drenched pussy from behind you, his slurps and smacks obscene, not to mention his moans of ecstasy at the taste of your juices. You lay your chest onto the bed and take it - that’s all you can really do. You’re trying to stifle your sighs and moans, but your husband’s expert tongue is making that increasingly difficult.

“Oh god, right there,” you whimper, and your first orgasm of the day rolls through your body slowly, unfurling like the fragrant blossoms in the white-washed courtyard of the villa. He continues moaning and lapping up every drop of your essence while your body shakes.

One more hard suck on your clit, and then Joel is pulling you back onto your hands and knees on the plush cream bedding. He crawls towards your body, grabbing your hips with one warm hand while the other loosely grips his shaft, rubbing the head of his cock through your folds. 

You whine. “Please, Joel.” You’re not above begging when it comes to Joel’s cock.

Joel growls in arousal and begins to feed you his length, inch by inch. You bite your lip, trying to quiet the involuntary moans that the stretch of his girth seem to rip out of your throat. The villa is private, but you still have neighbors - you’d rather not have to face them at the dinner buffet later after they heard exactly how well your honeymoon was going so far.

“Such a good girl, taking my cock so well,” Joel praises you, his eyes never leaving how good his length looks sawing in and out of your soft pussy, shiny with your slick. The phrasing makes your cunt clench on him, which nearly shoves him off the proverbial ledge. He throws his head back, attempting to collect himself, and then notices you drawing circles around your aching clit. 

“Desperate to come again already?” he questions, quirking an eyebrow at you. You nod your head, pressing harder and swirling faster around your nub. 

“Then fucking come for your husband,” Joel grits out, punctuating each word with a harsh thrust of his hips. On the last word, you explode yet again, burying your mouth in the crook of your elbow to quiet your cries. Your pussy spasms over his length, nearly sending him over the edge, and you’re absolutely gushing for him, slick and juices running down your thighs.

Joel yanks himself out of your body, not ready to come yet. You cry out in disappointment, but he hauls him and yourself up off the bed.

“Kneel,” he commands. You drop to your knees onto the plush sheepskins rug, legs like jelly already. His hard cock bobs in front of your face, coated with the evidence of your orgasm. Your mouth opens and you drop out your tongue like a welcome mat.

Joel nearly comes at the sight before him.

“Suck,” he says simply. Grabbing your hair into a ponytail, Joel guides your blazing hot mouth onto his shaft, controlling the speed of your blowjob with his hands. He tries to avoid thrusting into your throat too hard, but he knows you like it rough. The taste of your own pussy is all over his dick, and it makes you dizzy with need.

You play the good girl, sucking and licking as directed by Joel’s moans and hand, but soon enough he’s hauling you off your feet to put you back onto the bed. His cock is an angry red color at the tip now, precum continuing to bubble out of the slit. 

“Wanna try out something new,” he mutters, laying you down on your back. He pushes your legs to your shoulders, nearly folding you in half, and guides your hands to the back of your thighs to hold them open. You feel so exposed, but it makes a thrill run up your spine. Joel kneels with his knees just under your ass, leaning over you, before taking his hand and running it through your soaked folds, reveling in the filthy wet sounds your center makes for him. You whine, desperate for more. Joel places your calves on his shoulders as he leans forward, caging you with his body. One hand drops to the bed to steady himself, while the other grabs his cock and lines himself up again.

“Have you ever tried this one?” Joel asks you with a smirk.

You smile wickedly back, knowing what you need to say to egg him on. “Can’t say I have. Wasn’t exactly trying to get bred.”

You see Joel’s eyes flash at the last word, a ferality burning in his irises. A near-snarl erupts from his mouth as he bottoms out in one powerful thrust. A loud moan rips from your throat, and you slap a hand over your mouth to quiet yourself, remembering the balcony door is still open. Joel shoves your hand away, grinding deeper into your cunt, brushing against your cervix. You can barely breathe with the intensity of pleasure racing in your veins.

“Oh yeah?” he challenges, pulling out almost all the way before slamming back home, eliciting another loud cry from you. “If you wanna be bred so bad, I’m gonna make everyone at this resort know exactly how much you want it.” With that, Joel sets a punishing pace, his hips and balls slapping against your slick skin. The wet sounds of your mutual pleasure ricochet through the room, and probably outdoors. In this position, all you can do is lay there and moan and cry and take it. Your pussy continues seeping slick, wave after wave running down your ass and thighs, dampening the heavenly bedding.

You’ve never been so fucking wet in your entire life, and Joel knows it.

“God, this pussy is so fucking juicy for me, huh? Just want to get bred that bad, huh?” He mutters to you as he fucks into you so deep that you nearly feel him in your throat. You’ve long since lost your ability to silence your noises, a steady stream of loud gasps and cries emanating from your mouth. Joel just feels so fucking good inside of you, and suddenly you start babbling.

“Yes, baby, I’m so fucking wet for you,” you moan, the pleasure coiling in your bones with every thrust of Joel’s thick girth inside you. “You’re so deep, you fill me so good, don’t stop don’t stop don’t stooooopppppppp –” Your words are cut off by a silent scream as you come for a third time. The pleasure shimmers across your limbs and a shaky moan finally snakes its way out of your throat.

He growls, fucking into you even harder. “Good fucking girl, let me hear you,” Joel grits out. He picks up his pace, clearly getting close to his own orgasm. The increase in speed releases a surprised scream from you, your loud cry stuttering from the sheer force of Joel’s thrusts into you. His hips are a blur, and your third orgasm begins to build into your fourth, the intensity ratcheted to new heights.

“That’s right, scream for me,” he moans, his thrusts getting erratic as his peak approaches. “Want me to fill up this messy pussy, get it even messier? Gonna fuck you so full it has no choice but to take.”

Joel’s words cause a riot of tingles to cascade across your skin. “Yes, please, fuck me full, Joel. Give me your cum, make it stick, give me a baby, please,” you cry, and Joel slaps your ass hard, and you scream again. There’s no doubt that everyone within a mile radius can hear the two of you, but your head is so full of pleasure that you really couldn’t care less. All you can think about is Joel, his cock, and how badly you want to be dripping with his cum.

“Oh god, honey, I’m gonna come,” Joel whimpers, and to send him over the edge, you clench down on his cock as hard as you can. He gasps. “I’m gonna come, I’m gonna cooooooo–”

Joel shoves his cock as deeply into you as possible, bellowing loudly in ecstasy, triggering your own orgasm to crest at the same time. His release is so intense that it feels like his hot cum is jettisoning directly into your uterus, filling you to the brim. He pumps shallowly into you, prolonging the pleasure for both of you.

When the last spurt of his spend lands in your womb, Joel collapses on top of you, rolling you to the side, still buried within your clutch. Your sweat-slick limbs tangle as you both try to catch your breath. The gentle breeze flutters the curtains.

Everything feels hazy and perfect.

Eventually you come to, pressing kisses to Joel’s completely blissed-out face, eliciting a soft smile across his plush lips. You kiss your husband softly, slowly, and sensually. He gives your nose a peck, and then buries his face into your neck, breathing in your scent deeply.

“Fuck, that was…” Joel starts, lost for words to describe what just happened.

“... incredible,” you finish his sentence, beaming at him. You intertwine your fingers, so elated that Joel is really yours forever.

Joel nods and kisses you one more time, then moves to untangle your aching limbs, massaging your muscles with his strong hands. He pulls out of your messy center slowly with a groan, watching as his cum begins to seep out of you. You watch as he scoops away the runaway seed, pushing it back into your cunt. A brief flush of arousal pulses in your veins at the sight.

“Gotta keep it where it belongs,” Joel croons, winking at you as he walks towards the bathroom to rinse off and grab you a towel. You giggle, moving to prop your legs and hips up on your pillows, allowing his release to pool & settle inside you. The idea of finally having a baby with the love of your life makes your insides flutter with joy.

While you rest, you pull up Snapchat, curious to see what other fellow travelers are up to in the area. You tap around the map, watching stranger’s stories of sailing excursions, lounging on the shore, and eating delicious food. You notice a Snap story in the same vacation complex as your rental, and you tap on it excitedly, hoping to get a sense of some fun things to do in the area.

The video opens up in selfie mode as a blonde, sunglasses-wearing traveler records himself outside on his villa’s patio, laughing quietly and rubbing his arm awkwardly with the caption “Sounds like our new neighbors on holiday in Greece are having a whale of a time… Only been here 10 minutes!” In the background, a woman can be heard screaming with ecstasy, clearly having sex, her voice stuttering as whoever she’s fucking is giving it to her hard. You then hear a slap, then another cry of pleasure.

Wait a minute.

Not a slap… a spank.

Your nerves frost immediately and heat blazes up your neck as your mouth drops open, realizing that the couple having very loud sex… is actually you and Joel.

Oh no. 

...I REALLY should have closed that damn sliding door.

MASTERLIST

Tagging in case you, too, are horny for Joel (please let me know if you'd like to be removed from the tags!): @mermaidgirl30 @sin-djarin @perotovar @qveerthe0ry @nerdieforpedro

@itwasntimethatdidit40 @yxtkiwiyxt @almostempty @almostfoxglove @guiltyasdave

@legendary-pink-dot @arcanefox207 @dancingtotuyo @musings-of-a-rose @milla-frenchy

@yopossum @polaroidpascal @chippedowlmug @magneticecstasy @reggiesfilthylittlesecret

[gutsby]

Ruined!

Pairing: dbf!Joel x Reader

Summary: Joel is an old man who struggles to cum sometimes. You’ve got time to kill and a tight hole to fill.

Warnings: 18+. Peepaw brainrot + a dash of anorgasmia. Unprotected p-in-v, cockwarming, age gap, daddy kink.

Note: Finals are whooping my ass left & right. This is a quickie.

Word count: 1.2k | Part of the Waiting Game ‘verse

Surely he was hurting you now.

Joel Miller had a kink for many, many fun activities, but splitting a sweet young thing like you over his cock to the point you were almost in tears was just not one of them.

At the same time your poor, surely-bruised walls pulsed around his hardened length, he felt a pang of guilt. His balls were pressed against your ass like two lead weights, soaked with the remains of your third release, and his mind was at war with itself—keep fucking you like this? Pull out and offer his sincerest apologies for not being able to cum? A boy your age would’ve never had you waiting around like that, aching around his cock, much less begging for something as simple as a cumshot.

He decided to go straight to the source. Leaning over your prone body on the bed before him, he was careful not to rut his hips or jostle his dick around too much.

Joel pressed a hot, stubbled kiss to your cheek, then:

“‘S’it too much, baby? She need a break, maybe?”

Joel thumbed at that space where your body ended and his began and nearly lost his mind to the pearly-white slick that had accumulated with time. Two hours time, he had to remind himself while you moaned and writhed and bucked your ass back. Your cunt was choking him.

Crying, too.

Your eyes flew open the moment his words reached you.

“You kiddin’ me, Miller?! I could do this shit all day.”

Sometimes Joel forgot you were only in your twenties. Really, the thought only occasionally crossed his mind in moments like these—or when your father, his best friend, happened to bring you up—but when it did, it hit him hard. You were young. Lively. Surely far too spry and full of life to be messing around with a man as old as him.

Joel’s guilt ran almost commensurate with his pleasure when he felt you anchor your feet on the bed and start to fuck yourself back and forth over his still-throbbing dick.

Almost.

He planted a hand beside your head and grinned. He let you fuck him. Felt you pull off, crawl up the bed a little, then beckon him back to your body, where your ass was now pointing up and your back was arched in invitation.

Almost.

“You know I can’t sleep without your cum inside me.”

And you made a point to spread your knees and look behind you with a smile as sweet as Milo’s tea, fingers drumming a beat against the bedspread in anticipation.

“You do wanna fill me up, don’t you, daddy?” you teased.

Yeah, no. The guilt was gone. Joel could worry about being a depraved old man when he was done cumming.

Then he was back inside you, driving his hips until every last inch of him was wrapped snug within your wet and velvety embrace, and he sighed. A real protracted one, like the kind he was liable to exhale after climbing two flights of stairs, or else just hoisting himself off the sofa. Or lifting you in his arms and fucking you hard against the hood of his Bronco. Any time. Any place. You were kind enough to oblige him with the best cardio of his life, so the least Joel could do now was make you cum again.

He snatched your hands up in one of his own and placed your wrists at the base of your spine. With his other, free set of fingers he took to rubbing your clit gently.

“SON OF A—”

“—good girl.”

You let out a bloodcurdling scream into your pillow and secretly hoped this man’s dick would never deflate again. Not with the way he was sawing his thing back and forth and dragging you to the edge, circling your clit like you were the single most precious thing in the world to him.

“Oh, sweet pea, I didn’t mean to make you cry.”

Like he could feel the tears staining the cushion himself.

“Mmrooonme,” you cried into it, voice garbled by cotton.

“What’s’at, honey? Can’t hear ya.”

Joel then bent at the waist, pretending to be leaning in to hear you better, when really he knew he’d be digging in your guts with that big, bulbous head of his and making you squeal again. Hands still held captive behind you, you inched your chin back on the pillow so your moans could be heard even louder while Joel sped up.

“You— ruined me,” you repeated. Now clear as ever.

Joel tried to hide his smile and glanced down between your body and his. Then, while his ring finger joined the other two to make their tight, light circles, he returned,

“Ruined? Pussy feels just fine t’me.”

You’d kill him if he wasn’t so good at this. You turned your head more to meet his eyes from the corner of yours.

“No. Ruined me. For anyone else.”

Probably forever.

“Good.”

You knew he liked it that way.

You saw it in his eyes. Felt it in his touch. The hefty, broad, and greying Joel Miller had been loafing around on this earth long enough to know how to claim what was his. When his hips knocked yours to lay you flat on the bed, you already knew what was coming next.

First, his arms came to rest on either side of your body.

“Shit,” you whimpered.

Next, his lips went trailing down to your ear.

“Just a little more, sugar—that’s it,” he murmured while his hips sank in, and you felt that big, delicious stretch.

Then he released your hands so they were free to squeeze the sheets, and when they did, his moved over them—lacing his fingers through your own—and his lips pressed a kiss to your jaw. He held you in a tender grasp. His breath was hot on your neck, and the whole of his body was blanketing yours. Joel knew you liked it like that, which is why he made sure not to leave an inch of space in between. He was grunting, rutting, holding you close while his cock drilled a maddening pace inside you.

“You ruined me too, y’know,” he mumbled into your skin.

His nose was flush with the side of your cheek, nudging inward. Begging you to turn your head just a little more so he could kiss you. Weak as you were, you obliged.

And you moaned against that grey, stubbled chin of his when the thrusts above you had your cunt grinding the bed, rubbing that soft and helpless nub on the sheets.

“C’mon�� let daddy have it,” he growled, “Let daddy have it and make it his, huh? That okay by you, baby?”

It was.

More than okay, as confirmed by the orgasm that tore through your body moments later while your teeth sank into the flesh of Joel’s lower lip and your cunt clenched and soaked over him whole. Joel wedged his tongue in your mouth and fucked you through it. His broad and callused hands were like iron around your own, holding you tight and keeping you still amidst a maelstrom of pleasure that combed over your every last nerve.

He licked into your mouth. Licked over it. Took the sick and distinct pleasure of knowing no one but him got to see you like this, with your jaw hanging slack and your eyes rolling back and your whines repeating quietly, ‘Daddydaddypleasedaddyfuckohfuckdontstop.’

Maybe ruined wasn’t such a bad thing to be at all.

[milla-frenchy]

Thank you so much for reading and sharing ❤️❤️

Push it

3k4 | Joel Miller x fem reader | ao3 | Masterlist

Summary: you have a secret “relationship” with Joel, your dad's best friend. You know you can't have more, but you can’t resist the idea to provoke him a little

Warnings: 18+ mdni. Age gap (reader early 20s, Joel late 40s), Joel is a grumpy, possessive, jealous man, reader is a brat. Grinding, dry humping, oral (f/m), pussy slapping, spanking, degradation, rough sex, dirty talk, cum eating, squirting, piv, creampie

a/n: so, this is my first dbf!Joel fic. Thank you anon, for your ask ❤️ I hope you'll like it 🙏

@aurorawritestoescape thank you for beta-ing baby 💕🫶

dividers @saradika-graphics 🙏

The fic is titled after “Push it” by Garbage 

Joel was looking at you walking back and forth from the dining room and the kitchen, swaying your hips and teasing him in your short dress. And if your father had been paying any attention to him instead of the game on TV, he would have noticed the way Joel was biting his upper lip or rubbing his hands together. Joel was nervous, and the more nervous he got, the more you teased him.

“Damn brat,” Joel muttered under his breath.

“What?” your father asked.

“Nothing,” he replied and then sighed. “Just said that player really sucks, that’s all.”

“I think he’s hot,” you said cheerfully. “How old is he?”

“A little too old for you to be interested, honey. Over 30 years old.”

You scoffed at your father’s words, and you were pretty sure you heard “jesus” coming out of Joel’s mouth.

You spent the rest of the match pulling down your neckline to expose more of your cleavage or hiking your dress up your thighs. You were careful to do it in a way that your father wouldn’t consider inappropriate if he ever looked at you at some point, but he was captivated by the game. 

Your and Joel’s gazes met often and he gave you a few serious warning stares that you ignored shamelessly. You didn’t even try to hide your satisfaction each time he had to readjust his jeans.

Once the match was over, you brought their empty beer bottles back to the kitchen, and Joel's firm hand closed around your arm as soon as you were there.

“The hell you doin’?” he grumbled.

“I don't know what you're talking about.”

“Cut the crap, sweetheart,” he hissed through his teeth. “Acting like a damn tease, makin’ me hard during the game? In front of your father, goddamn it! Could even see you’re wearing the black lingerie.”

“Ooooh… yeah, your favorite. Too bad you made it very clear the last time you filled me up- we fuck just for fun, right? So let me have fun and act as I please in my father's house. And let go of me.”

But he squeezed harder. “Keep it down,” he growled. “And that ain’t what I said.”

“Whatever. Next time you see me, I may be with my boyfriend.”

“What boyfriend?” His nostrils flared and you loved the sight.

“The one I’m probably gonna meet tonight, when I go out with my friends. The one who’ll appreciate my lingerie. Let go of me,” you repeated, yanking yourself free.

You headed towards the kitchen door, and after glancing behind, you saw him leaning against the counter. Annoyed, dark eyes, eyebrows furrowed, arm muscles stretching his back t-shirt. Irritation suited him well, he was even more handsome than usual. You tried to ignore the racing of your heart as you stepped back into the dining room.

“Can you help me with the internet at home?" he asked you in front of your father. “Connection ain't working.”

“I’m sorry, Joel, I can’t right now. I have to get ready, I’m going out tonight and my friends are picking me up in an hour.”

“Jesus, your manners?!” your father replied as if you had said the most impolite thing in the world. “Go help Joel. Your friends can wait a few minutes.”

You rolled your eyes, careful so that only Joel could see you. He smirked in a way that was so feline that you felt yourself dripping. He walked out towards his house, not checking if you were following him. He knew you were. 

Once home he sat down on his couch, resting his right arm on the backrest.

“What's the problem with the internet?”

“Ain't got any problems. Come here,” he said, patting his thighs.

“What makes you think I wanna sit on your lap?”

“Pussy's dripping. Can smell it from here.”

You rolled your eyes but you walked over to him and straddled him, placing your hands on his broad shoulders. He grabbed your hips tightly and positioned you how he exactly wanted you, his stiff shaft in his jeans against your folds covered only by your black panties. Your eyes sparkled when you felt his manhood. His were fixed on yours. Full of confidence, the eyes of a mature man, aware of his power of seduction over you.

“Stop being a brat and grind on me. I know you need it bad.”

You rolled your hips slowly, grinding against his hard cock. His hands firmly laid on your hips, but letting you lead the pace. His jeans almost hurt your inner thighs but you needed that friction against your soaked pussy. That sweet pain, the one that helps to feel better, like an itch that can be relieved only when you scratch it a little. He pulled your neckline down roughly, cupping your breasts in his palms before taking a nipple in his mouth, sucking and licking it.

“Joel…,” you whimpered.

“Keep humping me, sweetheart. Yeah, just like that. She needs it, uh?”

He took your nipple back in his mouth, licking and then nibbling on it lightly, pressing on your shoulders to feel you more.

“Use me. Use me to get off,” he said, the need in his voice showing you how much he loved feeling you rub yourself against him. You kept rolling your hips, moaning “Joel, Joel…,” your whimpers getting louder and louder, until you breathed out “it’s good, so good, I’m gonna come,” just before you came against him, whining into his neck, trembling. Your desire wetting your panties even more and flowing onto his jeans.

You let your forehead rest against him, panting into his skin that you kissed as he stroked your back, before you pulled back and faced his dark eyes.

“I wanna suck your cock,” you said, kneeling down and unzipping his jeans.

“Yeah? Gonna help me with that after your little game? That's what you wanted, uh? Wanted me to get fuckin’ hard, while I couldn't do anything about it.”

You nodded, there was no more brat attitude left in you, just eagerness as you pulled his cock out gently, and watched his weeping, red tip. You licked your lips and spread the precum around his slit with your thumb. You sucked him the way he liked, lingering on his tip for a long time, licking, sucking. Each time, you wanted to give him the sloppiest head, so that he wouldn’t think about anyone else. Wouldn’t want anyone else.

When you took his length in your mouth, getting used to its thickness, pressing your tongue against his quivering skin, you felt him shiver. Until he pressed his cock against the back of your throat, and finally put his hands on your head. You loved feeling his underlying power, his pressure on your temples.

“Don’t move,” he said in a low voice, his length buried in your hot throat. You felt his tip twitch. Finally he started to thrust, fucking your mouth and your throat, using you as a fuck hole.

The mouth of his best friend’s daughter. He didn’t think about it anymore, when he was buried in one of your three holes. His remorse was forgotten. He didn’t care what could happen next, where this relationship or whatever it was, would take both of you. Didn't think about the consequences anymore. Only your warmth, your tightness welcoming his cock, mattered.

His hands firmly gripping your head, he thrusted in, and began fucking your mouth relentlessly. From the first time he’d fucked you, you noticed how different he was from your previous boyfriends. He loved when you teased him. He loved being seated on his couch, manspreading, while you were dancing lasciviously in front of him, waiting for him to break and reach out to you. But sometimes, often, you were the one breaking first. 

When you danced like that, his gaze was full of promise. Promise to fuck you so well you’d forget your own name when he was done with you.

Guys of your age didn’t have that patience.

He loved to make you come several times before spilling his cum. Sometimes he made you come again after, with his tongue or fingers, leaving you breathless and cock dumb. 

Your ex boyfriends usually didn’t care.

But he cared.

You let him use your mouth, let him move your head back and forth. Let him bury himself in the back of your throat. You learned not to gag anymore, when he fucked it. He trained you to do it. 

His hands froze on your temples, and you knew he was about to shoot hot ropes of cum that would hit the back of your throat.

“Fuck, ‘m gonna come… swallow all of it, sweetheart. Like a good girl, just like I taught you.”

His cum spurted out, and drop by drop, you swallowed it all. Then you carefully cleaned his shaft, his tip, until he pulled out. He put his cock back in his pants, and zipped them.

“You should go, you’re gonna be late.”

“Do you have something to tell me, Joel?”

“Good evening?” He sighed when he saw your eyes, a little blurry, and added “and keep those wet panties on. I want you to remember how you came humping me, while you’re out with your friends.”

You didn’t try to meet his gaze when you heard his words, and you left.

Babe? Babe!” You heard your friend’s voice in the distance. You were so lost in your thoughts. Always the same. Joel.

“What’s wrong with you?”

You spread your hands in front of you, as if to mean you had no idea what she was talking about.

“We’re supposed to have fun and you seem… somewhere else. What’s on your mind, babe?”

You answered that everything was fine, and tried to push Joel out of your thoughts. Joel who had told you that you weren’t a couple, that you didn’t have a relationship because your father, other people couldn’t know. That this thing between you was a bonus that you were giving each other. But that there couldn’t be more.

So when a guy of your age approached you and asked you to dance, you didn’t say no. When he offered you a drink and asked if you wanted to join him in the bathroom of the bar, you didn’t say no either. Sat on the bathroom sink, you let him eat you out.

And you only thought about Joel who always did it so perfectly, knew when to lick lightly, when to suck on your clit, knew how to fill you with two of his fingers. You had to think about him, the whole time that guy was eating you out. You had to think about Joel’s beard and mustache, scratching tenderly or roughly against your sensitive skin.

It was the only way for you to come.

When you left the bathroom, Joel was the first person you saw. Dark stare. Then darker than ever, when his gaze fell on the man who walked out of the room right after you. You froze before heading to your table, but he grabbed your arm before you sat down. 

“I’m taking you back home. Now.”

“Are you mad? I come home whenever I want.”

“Wow wow! What’s going on? Are you her dad?” Joel looked at this man whose name you didn't even know, from his full height, fists clenched. Joel looked at him as if he wanted to throw him to the ground, making him take a step back.

“No I ain’t her dad, luckily for you”, he growled. He turned to you before adding “I said, now.”

You followed him, like a docile dog. Turned on by his jealousy and attitude.

“Get in the damn car,” he grumbled. He started driving, silent, hands clenching the wheel until his knuckles were white.

“Joel…”

“Don’t,” he rambled. “Don’t say a word.”

You sank into the seat, waiting for him to drop you off at your place. But he pulled into his driveway.

“Follow me,” he said, without waiting for you.

When you joined him at his house, his hands were on his hips, his gaze turned towards the ground.

“You fucked him?” he asked in a low voice.

“No. No I didn't.”

“He fucked you?”

“No, damn… He didn't fuck me.”

“Yeah?” He raised his eyebrows, in a way that was clear- he didn't believe a word you were telling him.

“Yeah,” you confirmed.

“Don't lie to me. You got that “just fucked” face.”

“Damn, I… He went down on me, that's all.”

“You let him go down on you? On that pussy?”

If you didn't know him, his tone might have seemed detached. But you had known him for a long time, and the surprise mixed with jealousy didn't escape you. Actually, it was even more than a surprise. Almost a shock.

You even felt like he was holding back from saying “my pussy.” But he had been clear about you two. Fun.

“Why do you care? You don’t want anything serious.”

“He ate you with your wet panties on? He pushed them to the side?” You nodded shyly, almost embarrassed.

“Fuck, come here,” he said, grabbing you by the hips before pulling you back towards the couch, your feet dragging in an attempt to keep up with his pace.

He pushed you roughly to sit you down and knelt down in front of you. He pulled your dress up and practically ripped your panties off, and yanked your hips towards the edge of the couch.

“I think this pussy needs to remember who makes her come,” he growled, already pushing two fingers inside you. “You're fucking soaked. You came in his damn mouth?”

“Yes I… Fuck, Joel!” He was fingering your pussy quickly, as if he wanted to remove any memory of any man other than himself.

“Was he good at it?”

“Yeah, he was perfect. Made me come so quickly.”

He slapped your swollen clit and you whined, tears at the corner of your eyes.

“I said, don't lie to me,” he spat at you, stopping his fingers deep inside your pussy.

You lowered your head before answering.

“No, he wasn't good at it. Had to think about someone else to come. Had to think about you,” you whined. “Stop being mean to me, I didn't do anything wrong!”

“I need to remind you how this cunt needs to be eaten. Like the damn slut she belongs to.”

This wasn't the first time he'd degraded you. He'd noticed early on how receptive you were to it. And the way your pussy squeezed his fingers couldn't hide it, once again.

He settled between your thighs, lapping at your cunt still soaked with another man’s saliva, your pleasure and your desire for Joel.

He dove in like it was his last meal on earth, lapping, sucking, mixing his saliva with someone else's and he didn't care. Your hands tangled in his curls. Your orgasm was building and Joel stopped just before you exploded on his fingers and tongue.

“No Joel! Please, why did you stop?”

“I don't want another tongue on this cunt. Ya hear me?”

“But you said…” He slapped your clit again, making you whimper.

“Repeat it.”

“I… fuck, Joel! Jesus… You don't want another tongue on this cunt.”

“If I see you with anyone else again, if I hear about you with anyone else, I’ll spank you so hard you won’t be able to sit down for days.”

Your pussy clenched around his fingers without you being able to control your body.

“Jesus Christ, you fuckin’ like it? You want to get punished over my knee like the dirty little brat you are?”

“I… no, I… fuck…”

“Pussy's drooling even more. Unbelievable…” He started to finger you again, slowly, and placed his thumb on your swollen and sensitive clit, making you whimper. “You were a good girl, with proper manners. And now… can't think straight since you took my fat cock, right?”

“I'm… fuck. I'm a good girl.”

“Really?” he smirked darkly. “Good girls don’t get their pussy eaten by a stranger in a damn bar.” He leaned down and licked a long stripe from your hole already filled with his fingers to your clit, before stopping again cruelly. “Good girls don’t make their man jealous,” he added before diving between your thighs, fingering you fast and so hard that his knuckles tapped against your entrance. His tongue focused on your clit, swirling around it perfectly. 

“My… my man?”

He didn't answer, growling from the depths of your thighs, making you squirm on his fingers as he fingered you hard, until jets spurted out suddenly and wetted his face.

“Fuck yeah! that’s a good girl, squirting on my face, jesus, sweetheart…”

You were completely gone, not realizing that you were cumming on his fingers still buried inside you, until he replaced them with his tongue. He drank everything you gave him, greedy, eager. You kept squirming but his strong grip kept you seated on the couch.

When your jolts stopped, he grabbed your arm to lift you up and bent you over the dining room table. His hand tightened on the back of your neck, and he unzipped his jeans, lowering them mid-thigh with the other one, before sinking into you in one go, grunting like an animal.

He buried his fingers in the flesh of your hip, pumping into you. Hard, deep thrusts, growling “take it, just like that,” and you could only take it. Letting him feed on your needy pussy, on your low moans that he could barely hear, fucking you so hard that you were almost speechless except for the whimpers.

“Fuck, you’re taking me so good.” He kept thrusting in, filling you like only he knew how.

“Harder, Joel. Harder, please,” you begged.

“Jesus…”

Clinging to the edge of the table, you tried to remain as still as possible despite his roughness that threw you forward with every thrust.

“Say my name”, he said in a needy voice. You didn’t hear him and he scoffed. “Too cock dumb to even hear me,” he growled before spanking your ass, hard, making you squeal.

“Joel!!!”

“Oh, you’re back? I said, say my fucking name.”

“J… Joel…”

“That’s right. Whose pussy is this?”

“Yours.”

A second spank landed on your already red skin.

“Say it again.”

“Damn, Joel?! Your pussy… my pussy’s yours, damnit…”

A third spank, even harder than the other ones. “Joel, what the fuck??” you whined.

“Squeezin’ me so tight, each time I spank you… don’t pretend you don’t like it, dirty fucking girl.”

You didn't answer. He was right, you liked it. He knew it and you knew it. You liked his strength, you liked that he used you. You liked being his.

“I’m gonna come. Gonna fill you up, fuck!”

He shot his cum deep in your pussy and didn't stop thrusting, pumping you full until you milked his cock.

Your hand against the wood of the table, you were breathing heavily, trying to catch your breath as his heavy body pressed against yours.

“You said it was just for fun… What happened?” you murmured.

“Ain’t what I said. I said, your father can't know. The neighbors, your friends, can't know. But you… you gotta know. I don't share. Got it?”

“Yeah… got it.”

You smiled, feeling his breath against your neck, and his hand tightening on yours, on the wood of the table.

npt: tagging those who showed interest in the wip wednesday post, love you ❤️

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[a1yaaaa]

MY BELOVEDS !! MY BELOVEDS !!!!!!!!

[tightjeansjavi]

warm me up

A/N: the voices won this round! @strang3lov3 & @speckledemerald also, this was my first time writing game!joel 👀 this could also be show!joel if that's what you're into! This fic really got away from me today and I didn't think it would be nearly as long as I planned it to be..but that's just sometimes how things work out 😉 huge thank u to Bug for making me this cute lil mood board and I LOVE the deers!!🤍

~word count: 3.3k~

Summary: while on patrol, you and Joel find yourselves caught in a treacherous snowstorm.

Pairing I game!joel miller x f!reader

Warnings: smut (explicit & implicit) enemies to lovers, implied age gap (non-specific) consent, cock warming, one sleeping bag trope, close proximity, using one's body warmth for survival, denial of feelings, mean!joel, grumpy!joel, reader is a spitfire and gets under Joel's skin easily, joel has a big cock! He is a big big man! teasing, banter, sexual tension, fluff, foul language, pet names: (darlin, sweetheart, and princess) reader has no physical descriptions, +18 minors dni! PLEASE LET ME KNOW IF I MISSED ANYTHING!

Joel is freezing, shaking like a goddamn leaf. It’s ironic, given his disposition. You should have tried to retrace your steps back to Jackson hours ago, but the winter was unforgiving, and the two of you have found yourselves in a real pickle; a frozen one.

“I told you that we were going to end up getting lost out here, Joel.” You grumble alongside him with your arms crossed over your chest. Your teeth are chattering, and it’s grinding his gears.

“We ain’t fuckin’ lost, sweetheart.” He gruffs back and adjusts his rifle strap along his shoulder. “I know where I’m goin.’”

You scoff at this because if he did know where he was going, you wouldn’t be fucking lost in a fucking blizzard right now!

“Right. I’m sure you do know where you’re going, Joel.” You mutter sarcastically under your breath.

He whips around to face you, cheeks speckled in red from the cold and even in the lowlight, you can see individual snowflakes sticking to his lashes.

“Alright, miss ‘I know everything.’ Which way do you think we should go?” He awaits your answer with a cocked brow and his lips pursed together. They’re severely cracked and on the verge of bleeding from the bitter cold.

“Not the direction we’re currently headed, that’s for damn sure! Let’s just fucking turn around and retrace our steps.” You bite back and watch the way that his jaw ticks from your tone. God, you’re a real thorn in this man’s side.

“Retrace our steps?” He laughs, shaking his head to the side and sucks in a harsh cold breath of air into his lungs. “The snow has covered up our tracks, you idiot.” He’s so fucking condescending, and you’ve just about had enough with his shit attitude for one day. Your blood is positively boiling under your thick layer of clothes, and you’d much rather succumb to Mother Nature and her wrath than spend another minute with this insufferable, annoying, mean, and painfully handsome man.

“Fuck you, Joel. I’m retracing my steps whether you have a say in it or not!” You snap and turn on your heel before you feel a rough, gloved-clad hand grasp your upper arm and yank you back towards a hard and very solid presence at your back.

“Quit your fuckin’ yappin!’” He barks against the shell of your ear. His voice is rasped, crackling like a roaring fire. “You ain’t goin’ anywhere without me, you got that?!” His grip around your arm only tightens when you tried to shove him away, but he’s built like a fucking steel fridge, and you’re no match for him.

“Then stop being a fucking asshole, Joel! I’d rather freeze to death out here than spend another minute with you!”

You mean every word. Well, you think that you do.

He sneers at your attempt to wound him with your words, as if a man with a heart made out of pure concrete can possibly be affected by the means of your figurative little daggers. They ricochet off his body and fall to the snow, disappearing under a sheet of white. “I wouldn’t have to be an asshole if you would just fuckin’ listen for once in your life! God, when we get back, and we will, I’m tellin’ Tommy that I ain’t ever goin’ on patrol with your ass again.”

His steel-like grip loosens when you don’t immediately bite back like he expects you too. He wants you to fight back, to call him names and send his own blood boiling because at least then he feels alive.

“Fine. We’ll do it your way.” You nearly whisper and bite down on the inside of your cheek, tasting harsh copper on your tongue.

“Fine.” He agrees and finally releases your arm. “We’re gonna wait out this damn storm for the night, and then tomorrow we’ll retrace our steps home. Who knows, sweetheart. Tommy might have already sent out a search party for us.”

“Let’s fucking hope that’s the case. The sooner this storm lets up, the better.” You think you’re going to cry, but you push your tears down as far as you possibly can. You have to conserve your energy, after all. Besides, Joel Miller isn’t worth your precious tears. Not even close.

He begins to survey the surrounding area. The woods offered some reliable cover with the thick evergreens acting as a shield from the treacherous wind. The snow is still falling in large flakes, but he might be able to get a fire going if he’s lucky.

“We should..probably y’know, share a sleepin’ bag for extra heat.” He rubbed the back of his neck nervously, feeling kinda silly in the moment because what did he have to be nervous for? His reasoning for sharing warmth was logical. It was just his survival instincts kicking in, right?

You, on the other hand, were unfazed by his request. Sure, it made perfect sense to share body heat with this man. Why the hell did he look so distraught over it - weirdo.

“Did Bear Grylls teach you that, Miller?” You look at him with a smirk playing on your lips. “If that’s the case, then we should probably sleep naked.”

That feeling that had laid dormant for so long, was beginning to reawaken and defrost at the thought of your warm, pliant, soft body being tucked up around him in close proximity. You were annoying, sure, and he could hardly tolerate your presence, but he couldn’t deny that you were a thing of beauty, and neither could his cock.

“No. Some reality TV star didn’t teach me the survival skills that I know, sweetheart. I’m jus’ that good.” He sounds cocky, full of himself and perhaps there’s a bit of eagerness detected in his tone? Maybe the dead giveaway is the way his cheeks flush, and this time it isn’t because of the cold.

You shrug and drop your pack and sleeping bag at your boots. “Whatever you say, Joel.”

He clears his throat and drops his hand from where it was resting against the back of his neck. He stares at you for a second longer than he would have liked to, and then announces that he’s going to go find some wood for a fire, and for you to stay put.

You wave him off and unroll your sleeping bag with a huff and begin to mentally question how the hell is this grizzly of a man going to fit inside of your sleeping bag? Oh well! Time to defy all the odds that have been stacked against you.

When Joel returns, he finds you already tucked away under the sleeping bag with your clothes neatly folded on top of your backpack. He managed to find a few fallen tree branches that would make good kindling, and some thicker logs for the base of the fire.

He avoids making direct eye contact with you as he crouches down and constructs a fire that he hopes to god will keep the two of you warm throughout the cold night ahead.

You already have taken notice of his suddenly quiet and almost docile demeanor with just your head visible and peeking out of the sleeping bag

“Are you sure that fire is going to last the night, Joel?”

His shoulders and back immediately tense from your question and you can already picture him clenching his jaw and muttering under his breath.

“Ain’t no tellin’ if it will last the night, sweetheart.” He stokes at the ember glowing logs with the end of a spare stick before looking over his shoulder at you. “Y’comfy in there?” His voice rasps, dipping down an octave and sounding much, much, lower.

“Yep.” You chirp. “Nice and cozy in here, Joel. Did I mention it’s very, very warm?”

He snorts under his breath, tearing his gaze away from you and focuses back on the fire. “Yeah. I bet it is.”

What you really want to say is: and it would be even warmer if you were here with me. But you refrain, and instead bury your face further into the contained warmth emitting from the sleeping bag.

Joel is hesitating, and that part couldn’t be anymore obvious based on his tense stature. Maybe he could just accept losing feeling in his fingers and toes instead of crossing that boundary with you. Or, he could man up and deal with the immediate feelings that would come as soon as his hands would inevitably touch your warm skin.

“Joel?”

Your voice tears him away from his thoughts briefly. “Hm?”

“Aren’t you..cold?”

Freezing. My cock and balls are about to fuckin’ fall off.

“M’fine.” He insists.

“So goddamn stubborn.” He hears you mutter under your breath followed by the sound of the sleeping bag zipper being pulled down. “Get in here before you freeze to death. I’m serious, Joel.”

“Fuck off. I said m’fine.” He grumbles and turns over his shoulder to look at you once more. His eyes catch a sliver of skin, a nipple peeking out from under the fabric as you were sitting up. His head whips around so fast he swears that his brain just got rattled around in his skull.

“Would you just be a fucking man and take your clothes off and get in here?”

So impatient, he thinks.

“You jus’ wanna see me naked.” He quips back.

“For fuck sakes, Joel. I just don’t want you to freeze out here. Is that so hard to believe?”

Yes.

“Jus’..don’t peek. Alright?” He slowly stands up from his place alongside the fire as he starts to shuck his heavy coat off his shoulders.

“Fine. I won’t peek, okay? Scouts honor.” You promise him and bring your hand over your eyes to cover them.

He’s grumbling to himself the whole time as he begins to undress. He bitches about the cold, his cock, and his nearly frozen toes as you listen quietly to the sound of his belt buckle being undone. He does not fold his clothes neatly like you did and instead they are left in a pile near the fire. He dashes for your sleeping bag, yanking the zipper down in a fury and climbs inside.

It’s a tight fit indeed with barely any room for him to squeeze in but he makes it work.

“Fuck!” His yell is muffled as he struggles to make himself comfortable in what little space he has. “Fuckin’ cannot believe I actually listened to you.” He rubs his hands together, blowing hot air between them.

“Oh, shut up, you big baby.” You stifle a laugh which earns you a displeased glare. “We wouldn’t be in this mess if you just would have—”

“Do not start with me, sweetheart. Don’t you fuckin’ dare.” His brows furrow and his jaw is clenched so tightly, you’re shocked that it hasn’t shattered.

“You’re all bark and no bite, Joel.” You mutter back and roll over onto your side so your back is facing him. You close your eyes and fully intend to get some much needed and deserved sleep, but the man beside you is squirming and making a big fuss.

“Darlin’ I know you ain’t want anythin’ to do with a man like me, but it was your idea for us to get naked under here..so all I’m askin’ is—”

“Just do whatever it is you need to do, Joel. Can you just be quiet about it? All I want to do right now is sleep, and your fussing about is making that really fucking difficult for me to achieve.” You snap.

“Are you givin’ me permission, sweetheart? Cus’ the last thing I want is for you to bite my damn fingers off if I touch you. So as long as it’s alright with you..” he trails off and you take matters into your own hands by reaching behind you and finding his cold hands and yanking them around your body. You couldn’t help but yelp from the stark difference of temperature from your body heat to his hands.

“You’re fucking freezing, Joel.” You state the obvious and he rolls his eyes.

“Yeah, no shit, Sherlock. I didn’t exactly have time to warm them up, sweetheart. My apologies that my hands aren’t at the right temperature for ya.” You think you hear him snicker under his breath, but maybe it’s just his close proximity that makes you hear things.

“Whatever. It’s fine.” You reassure him.

His hands are big, huge, and the skin on his palms and fingers are rough. The feeling overall is quite pleasant, and soon enough his hands don’t feel like an ice block - quite the opposite actually.

He grunts softly as attempts to make himself comfortable without pressing himself into your back. It’s proving to be a challenge as it is, and he has this feeling deep in the pit of his stomach, that this challenge is going to get the best of him.

“What’s wrong now, Joel?” You try to ignore the way his thumbs are gently stroking the space between the curve of your breasts and under your rib cage, and how his touch on your skin is beginning to light a fire in your belly, and between your thighs. His touch is gentle and it’s making your head spin with need and desire.

“I jus’—I don’t wanna make y’feel uncomfortable s’all.” He admits, voice rasping deeply. “I’m fuckin’ freezin’, darlin’ but I don’t wanna—”

“Just shut up and stick your dick in me, Joel. You’ll be warmer then.” You surprise both yourself and him.

His meaty palms squeeze you gently, fingertips kneading the flesh as he inhales a shaky, yet audible breath. The tight confines of your shared sleeping bag suddenly feel ten times tighter, and hotter. It’s suffocating in a delicious sense that you and Joel are stuck here together in this rather..unfortunate situation. You hate him, and he hates you, yet the thought of his thick cock nestling between your thighs sounds like absolute heaven on a plate right now.

Joel thinks he’s on the verge of passing out from your vulgar statement. It’s been god knows how long since he’s felt the warmth of a woman’s body around his cock. It’s been too goddamn long, he thinks.

“..well, if you’re askin.’” He whispers as his hands maneuver your body to press back against him. One strong arm anchors itself around your waist, engaging you in a warm hold when you feel his hard, broad chest pressing against your back. You haven’t even seen his cock, yet you already can tell that he’s big. The word big might not even be able to describe the massive size that is Joel Miller.

“This doesn’t mean anything. Right, Joel?” You ask through the thick growing tension that coils itself around you and the burly man beside you like a snake.

“Doesn’t mean nothin’ at all, sweetheart. Jus’ sharin’ body heat for survival, like you said.” He rasps and blows a hot puff of air against the back of your neck as his strong thighs wrap around your own. Even this man’s feet are fucking huge in every sense.

Y’know what they say about big feet? An even bigger—heart. I was going to say heart.

“Okay.” You squeak out as you relax further into his hold around you.

“Can you jus’ let me know if you’re uncomfortable at any point? Cus’ if that’s the case, I’ll slip right out. No questions asked, sweetheart.”

You couldn’t help but giggle at his apparent nervousness. It was sweet, in a Joel-like fashion. Hell must have frozen over right then and there because the Joel you had grown so accustomed to, was anything but sweet.

“Wow. You sure know how to romance a lady up, Miller. Did Tommy teach you how to do that?” You couldn’t help but wiggle your ass back against him. The thought of reaching down between your thighs and touching yourself crossed your mind, but you refrained.

He laughed, and it sent a wave of arousal gushing like a river because his laugh was beautiful. It was music to your fucking ears.

“Shut the fuck up.” His teeth grazed at the spot where your neck meets your jaw. He bit down, drawing blood to the surface of his indentation in your skin. “I taught Tommy everythin’ he needs to know on romancin’ a woman. Don’t get it twisted, sweetheart.”

“Sure, sure. Whatever you say, big boy.” You nearly purred. Your back arched towards him, a suppressed moan desperate to be set free when his teeth marked you.

“I think someone is a bit too eager over this whole arrangement that we have found ourselves in.” He comments in a low rasp and his hand drifts down from your hip and nudges your thighs apart with a practiced ease. His heavy cock pressed firmly against your lower back as he let out another praising grunt from between his lips.

“Stop playing with me, Joel. I don’t want to be played with.” You hiss under your breath when you feel the backside of his knuckles slowly drag through the seam of your cunt.

“Y’sure about that, sweetheart? If you don’t wanna be played with, then what do you want?”

Frankly, he’s taking too long for your liking and you decided then and there to take matters into your own hands; literally. You reach between your bodies before he even has a chance to protest as you blindly search for his cock. Your warm palm barely fits around the girth of him.

“I want you to take your cock and stretch me open, Joel. Think you can handle that? Best not keep a lady waiting. It’s awfully rude.” You tsk under your breath.

He growls as his hips buck upwards into your hand like he’s never felt the touch of a woman’s palm before in his life.

“Fine. I like a woman that knows exactly what she wants, anyway. Won’t keep ya waitin’ any longer, princess.”

Joel Miller is a man of his word and just when you think he’s bluffing, you feel the thick press of the head of his cock sliding through your slick folds and notching at your entrance.

He groans against your ear, jaw clenching, and teeth grinding because you’re tight and hugging him like a fucking fist.

“Jesus fuck. That’s a tight cunt if I’ve ever felt one.” He rasps as you slowly pull him in further at the rate that he pushes his hips. Soon, he’s bottomed out with his hips firmly pressed into your ass. His legs stay tangled through yours as his arms come to wrap you up in his hold once more.

“Fuck.” You breathe, lashes fluttering as he stretches you open. He fits snuggly, almost as if your pussy was making a home for his cock to stay there awhile, all cozy and warm with you. “See? Was that so fucking difficult?”

He shakes his head and you swear you can feel him grinning against your skin. “Nope. It wasn’t difficult at all, sweetheart. In fact, I think I’ll stay here awhile.” Yeah, he’s definitely enjoying this.

You smile at this, burying your face into the solid muscle of his bicep, pressing the lightest kiss there. Maybe you even nibbled on it, and maybe he chuckled and pulled you in even closer.

“Stay as long as you’d please, Joel.” You whisper softly.

Come morning the embers from the fire had long since died out, and the storm had since passed. You and Joel were still a bunch of tangled limbs and connected warmth by the time Tommy and the rest of patrol had found you.

Joel had since grown soft with his cock still buried deep within your warmth and his face was buried in your neck with peaceful snores slipping past his plush lips. His eyes barely peeked open when he heard familiar voices muffled, yet nearby. Tommy had just brushed a bit of snow off the top of the sleeping bag and pulled the zipper down when he was met with a sight that he wasn’t expecting.

“Well, I’ll be damned.” He chuckled and shot his big brother a cheeky wink.

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[penvisions]

gone to the dogs {chapter one}

Pairing: Boston QZ! Joel Miller x F! Reader

Summary: Bared teeth and instincts are all you have to defend yourself while out beyond the walls of the zone. And sometimes, you have Joel Miller, though he's just as apt to turn on you as anyone else.

Word Count: 2.5k

Warnings: canon typical violence, canon typical language, canon typical gore, outbreak fic, age gap (only by about ten years), dark fic, dark joel miller, mean joel miller, joel miller is uptight, degrading language, sexual language, sexual proposition, violence, heated interactions, adult language, fighting, references to injuries, blood, one (1) instance of joel miller bashing someone's head in, gun use, gun violence, reader chokes someone out, reader is snarky, reader meets joel toe-to-toe with insults and it's amazing both reader and joel pov, lemme know if there are any i missed!

A/N: this is different by far than anything else i've written and shared. dark joel miller content tends to be so controversial sometimes but i've been wanting to explore this part of his character for quite a while. the reader insert is also far more...robust than any i've written but it's all so exciting! please lemme know what y'all think?

ao3 link || series masterlist || navigation || ko-fi

The tracks are faint, you’re barely able to make them out yourself as you crouch low to the ground and move your hand in the direction they look like they’re headed in.

“Hey, you missed somethin’.”

“The hell you talking about, there ain’t nothin’ to miss.” He’s suddenly hovering over you, his own footfalls silent despite the pain you know he carries in his back and the swagger he has to adapt to not irritate it. He’s shining his flashlight on the imprint you had managed to find among all the dirt and rubble, a barely there scrape in the dirt that could be mistaken for anything. His voice is harsh, degrading in tone as he scoffs at your find. “You didn’t find shit, stop trying to make somethin’ outta nothin’.”

“Yeah and I suppose the marks that look about the same depth and span out in an even trail heading north ain’t shit either, huh?” You ignore the heat of his legs clad in faded and dirt smeared denim far too close for comfort. It would be easy to brush against them if you turned just slightly. Straitening back up to your full height, you don’t step back as you aim your own light over the similar marks that lead down a narrow path between the scattered and broken bricks. “It’s someone’s staggered gait, would bet they twisted their ankle or knee and it’s dragging enough to leave ‘em behind for us. Need to trust the younger pair of eyes we’ve got out here.”

“Don’t mean it’s our guy.” Joel doesn’t budge, ignoring the double whammy insult, head turning back at the hush of wind sweeping between the crumbling buildings. He turns his light off, securing it between his belt and waistband on the back of his hip. You know he knows there’s some truth to your words with how he ignores them. A habit of his you picked up, silence in the wake of begrudging agreement. Never voiced lest someone overhear that he had his moments of amenable tendencies, even if they were very rare and far between.

“Could be.” You insist, you knew what you were doing. You knew how to get the damn job done and if he heeded your words even once, he would realize it could make the situation go a whole lot smoother than it had been. But of course he doesn’t, he’s as stubborn as you are. Something you loathe about the man who had become one of your partners. It was hard to trust him when he didn’t trust you, constantly at odds with the gruff way he insisted he knew better. It was beginning to get on your nerves, the days harder when you had to interact with him in such close proximity.

“Could be isn’t good enough.”

“Do you need a blowjob or something?” You turn slightly to face him, his strong profile highlighted by the dark golden hues of the setting sun.

“Excuse me?" He pinned you with a dark glare, not taking kindly to your question. He’s chest to chest with you now, hard expression aimed down at you as you don’t move an inch. You wouldn’t back down, never had before and wouldn’t now. He may be intimidating, but you were too in your own ways. Hell, the first encounter you had with the man ended up with your knife at his throat and your knee over his crotch.

Him and Tess had been in your apartment, staking out the smuggling ‘competition’ once they had arrived in the Boston zone. Coming home from a rather painful migraine after shoveling ashes of deceased people had been one of the highlights of the day, if such a thing could even be considered that, only to find two strange people rummaging around through your things. Joel hadn’t been prepared for you to turn on him first, thinking he had hidden himself well in the shadow of your door and following it as you slowly closed it behind you.

A warning shot fired off at Tess had her scrambling behind the beat-up couch in the middle of the room while you turned on him. Only after demanding answers from them and getting them from the woman as she crouched behind the furniture, had you backed down from a stoic Joel.  

“You heard me. You're pent up and snapping at everyone, need some relief?" Tilting your chin up, you meet his dark gaze head on, smirk pulling your lips up on one side. His eyes dilate just the slightest bit before narrowing, but you caught it and he knows you did. His voice is the deepest you’ve ever heard as he slowly responds with only one syllable.

“No."

"I think you do. Don't think I haven't seen the way your eyes drag down my body when you're walking behind me.” A bold statement, but a true one nonetheless. His eyes were a heavy and heady weight whenever they did exactly what you taunted. The thrill of the older man merely looking at you when he thought you wouldn’t see it perked up your self-esteem in a way you weren’t completely immune to, even in the shambles of what the world had turned into.

"Delusional. you're a delusional little-“

"I’m not a little girl, and you damn well know that." You punch the tip of your pointer finger into his chest, the dirty denim warm from his body heat. He’s a big man with a big reputation and it’s hard not to feel powerful as you obviously found one of the weak spots of his soft underbelly. An attack dog, a guard dog, a rabid dog, they all had one thing in common. They were only as strongest as their weakest point.

And you think you just found his.

The mischief of the unexpected discovery must glint in your eyes because his brows furrow impossibly deeper. The frown lines around his mouth pulling his thick mustache down, though it does nothing to shield the pale pink of his full lips.

He scoffs again, a harsh sound from the depths of his chest. Smacking your hand away from him, he takes off to follow the trail he can see a little better now that you’ve pointed it out.

“Coulda fooled me.”

“Act like you’re hot shit around the zone, only reason people don’t mess with you is cause of me.”

“I was doin’ just fine on my own. Remind me again, who staked out who to scope out the competition?”

“Wouldn't let you touch me if I was at the end of a barrel, and it was my saving grace."

“Fuck off, Miller.” You spit back, unable to rise to his taunt even as you fall in line beside him. That one stung, you had to admit. It was your own stupid fault, for finding him so attractive. From his dark hair threaded with silver to the way he carried a lifetime on his shoulders.

But his attitude muddied it, he was no better than a lot of the men you had run into before reuniting with your brother. The end of the world bringing out the worst in people, just like you had never one to sling insults so harshly or tease people easily a decade older than yourself who could snap your neck with a well-placed grip. Just like you assumed the man Joel had been before all this wouldn’t have even dared to think of talking to a woman with such spite and malice, if his faded accent told you more than he ever would.

The trail ends just at the shattered glass of what was once a revolving door entrance to a skyscraper looms ahead. There’s fresh blood splatter and the bag of supplies stolen from where they had been hidden for you and Joel to pick up. Two shells from a gun lay on the ground beside it, and you quickly grip your handgun to survey the area for the culprit who fired the shots.

Joel holds up two fingers, your attention going to him almost instinctively as he motions for you to crouch and round the left side of what remains of the door and into the building after the drops of blood. His eyes are focused, his full lips a hard line as he nods once to make sure you understand him.

Only looking away once you return the gesture. He turns so his back is to yours and makes sure there’s enough coverage for you both with his own gun at the ready. As quietly as you can manage with what’s still hopefully inside the pack, you pick it up with your free hand and avoid as much glass as possible.

No shots ring out, no bullets lodge themselves into your shoulder or Joel’s, everything is eerily still as you both move in tandem to seek the protection of the building. It seems to be blocked off inside, large pieces of plywood secured over the doors that had once been for elevators. The emergency exit off the right barricaded with all the furniture that once filled the ground floor waiting area.

“Fuckin’ told you it was a trail.” You mumble as the conflict seems to be over, the body of the man who had taken off with your hidden pack behind the front desk. Fresh blood seeping from a gunshot wound to his neck and the bandage wrapped thick around his ankle. You don’t flinch when Joel brushes past you harshly to stomp the bottom of his worn boots into the man’s head or the sick crunch that echoes slightly in the open space. Ensuring he doesn’t turn if he had been infected.

He rounds on you quickly enough to stir your instincts, the fleeting fear of him doing the same to you flaring up and making you take a half step back at the fierce look in his eye. The words he practically growls at you making your heart stutter painfully in your chest, suddenly breathless at the combination.

“Would you shut your fuckin’ mouth before I shut it for you? Tired of hearing that shrill voice all the god damn time.”

You huff, trying to play off the fear as indifference, shoving the bag of supplies at him. He doesn’t move to catch it, allowing it to hit him square in the chest, the pills and bullets contained inside rattling as the entire thing fell to the ground with a thunk.

Joel could only watch as you stalked off without another word, shoulders tense and hands shoved deep in the pockets of your jacket. He had seen the dilation of your eyes, the way your chest had risen with a quick inhale at his intensity. He had scared you.

That was new and he wasn’t sure if he liked it any better than you teasing him about being uptight and needing a little bit of pleasure in his life. An unpleasant lump rises in his throat and he tries to swallow it down.

Frowning, he bends to pick up the fallen pack, shoving it into his own nearly empty one before following after you. The silence that had fallen allows him to pick up the faint sound of labored breathing. But it isn’t coming from you up ahead.

It must’ve registered as a third person in the same instant for you because you’re turning to him with a finger pressed to your lips as you crouch behind a chunk of blasted concrete, gun already in hand. He mirrors you, reflections of each other as you each move around the barrier and take an assessing peak around respective corners.

Another man is laid out a few yards away, upper body slumped heavily on against the tire of a rusted car.

He’s barely alive, his breath rattling in his chest at a timbre that could only signal his impending death. A stark sound he recalls from a time long ago, both painfully fresh and numbed by years of oppression. He blinks the sound away, eyes closed for barely a second before you’re closing the distance with quick and quiet movements. A lunging dog at the sight of a threat. Constantly poised to take out anything that challenged the life you clung to.

It’s a reminder of why he willingly works with you, the way your smaller hands close around the man’s neck and clench. Shoulders displaying the strength you possess even with rationed food and improper amenities for life. If he wasn’t on your side, you would turn those same hands on him without a second thought. You had the first time you had met, when he had willingly gone into the den you had created for yourself in search of answers. In search of the name people gave when asked about who had the most knowledge on how to sneak out of the zone he now resides in.

He watches as you pick the man’s corpse clean, ration cards going in your pocket that he doesn’t think to demand a fair share of. Of the gun you hold out to him in silent offer.

No words are exchanged as you lead him back to the perimeter of the zone as the sun dips completely below the horizon. Moonlight illuminating your body effortlessly slinking and squeezing into places you had picked out that would allow for him to do the same with little trouble. You knew the operations of the zone, hell you probably were the reason some of them were orchestrated the way they were. The fear he had seen in you may have been fleeting, a response that allowed you to recognize the threat he could pose to you as well, but the way he admired your will to survive was not.

You only stay at his side long enough to relay the run to Tess, who had stayed behind and worked to ensure an alibi for you both. Signing your names and hers with one of the soldiers who traded with you on the roster in a perfect imitation of keeping up appearances for the demanded duties of all that reside in the zone. The ration cards slid into your back pocket are handed off to the older woman, no words or sounds coming from you before you slink out the door to their shared excuse of an apartment and down the hall to yours.

But he knew better than to think it was with wounded pride and your tail tucked between your legs, because he could hear the way you moved about your own space through the thin walls as if it had just been another day. Tess is watching him as his head tilts where he slumps on the couch, ears following the shuffle of your steps and the sound of clinking as you go about your own business. When he turns to meet her gaze, it’s unreadable but she doesn’t ask the reason for his short run down of what happened or the silence you had fallen into.

next chapter

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[hauntedhowlett-writes]

okay consider this:

dark smuggler!joel using his knife to cut your panties off and turn them into hand ties

no? just me? i’m writing it anyways

[strangererotica]

EXPLICIT CONTENT | MINORS DNI

Mean!Dom!Joel Miller x Reader | Joel tames Reader’s bratty, bitchy attitude with a good hard FUCK | make-up sex but meaner 😈 | rough, rough sex | includes fingering, vaginal sex, Joel holds Reader’s throat (no choking) implied age gap, some butt stuff, use of ‘little girl,’ and ‘bitch,’ as demeaning terms, oral sex, spanking, degrading language used by both Joel & Reader

Joel’s eyes pierce through you, his voice simmering with anger. “If you run that little brat mouth of yours one more time, I swear to god-.”

“-What??” you taunt him. “What’re you gonna do, old man??” He doesn’t respond immediately, so you aggressively shove at his chest with both hands. “Tough guy??” you sneer. Joel clenches his fists in restraint. Your smile is intentionally cruel in an effort to provoke him. “You gonna hurt me, you fucking asshole??”

For a moment, a softness passes over his eyes; it never occurred to Joel that you’d imagine him capable of being violent toward you. He feels…heartbroken by your lack of trust in him, but refuses to let it show.

“Is that what you want?” Joel asks instead, forcing a coldness into his tone. “You want me to hurt you?” When you try to shove at his chest again, Joel is prepared for it this time. His big hands clamp around your wrists, his lips pressed into a hard line as he holds back your assault. You both grunt as he presses your hands back against your own chest, pinning them to you.

“You’re not doin’ shit to me, little girl,” Joel growls. “No matter how big you want to try ‘n make yourself-.” He removes one of his hands, proving that he can keep you restrained using only one. “-I’m still in charge…”

You glare at him, jutting your head forward so your spit lands directly on his mouth. Joel jerks at the sudden contact of your saliva hitting him, before scoffing and running his tongue over his lip to taste it. “That supposed to piss me off-?” Joel tugs one of your hands downward and rubs his erection against it. “-Or turn me on?” he asks. “Because to be fuckin’ honest-.” Joel grinds himself against the palm of your hand. “-It’s doin’ a bit of both…”

Your bitchy defenses are crumbling further by the second. At this point, you can’t even remember what prompted the fight you started with Joel. It began this morning, gradually building in intensity till it reached a boiling point five minutes ago. “…Joel,” you utter, your voice suddenly soft, and he sure as hell notices.

“Oh, now I’m Joel again?” he asks. “What happened to all those colorful names you were calling me, huh?” He smirks condescendingly, but his cock throbs against your hand. “Am I not an old man anymore? A fuckin’ asshole? Or-.” His eyebrow lifts, as if a sudden clarity has come over him. “Maybe what you meant to say-.” Joel reaches behind you and grips a handful of your ass, squeezing so hard you wince. “-Is that you want your asshole fucked?” His eyes are so dark, it’s almost frightening. “Does that sound about right?” Joel releases your ass, followed by a spanking so hard, tears form in your eyes.

You’ve gone uncharacteristically quiet after being humbled by Joel’s strength. “Now you’ve got nothin’ to say?” he snaps. Joel cups your hand over his erection and grinds against it. “About damn time you stopped fuckin’ disrespecting me,” he growls. “I can think of better uses for your dirty mouth, anyway.”

Joel’s hands go to your shoulders, pushing you down to your knees. Without a second thought, you reach for his belt, and he smacks your hand away, shaking his head at you. “Jesus,” he mutters. “This is how I know you were bein’ a bitch on purpose.” He unbuckles his belt and pulls it through the loops of his jeans, tossing it aside. “You wanna make it up to me bad, don’t you little girl?” He unzips his jeans and pulls his cock out, watching the shadow it casts over your hungry expression. Joel scoffs as if disgusted by your eagerness, but really, he’s getting off on it. “Quit embarrassing yourself and just start suckin’ it already,” he mutters down at you.

Joel’s cock points toward your lips, a dot of precum blossoming on its fat, ruddy tip. You swipe your tongue across it, collecting the pearly liquid. He takes his cock by the base and smacks it heavy against your cheek. “I said suck it,” he scolds. “Not give it a fuckin’ kiss.” Joel grabs you by the hair and pulls your lips over his cock, thrusting back and forth inside your mouth. “Have to do everything myself,” he grunts as you struggle to take him, spit bubbling around your lips and dripping to the floor. Joel’s body is curved forward, his stomach tensed as he fucks down your throat. He feels your muscles constrict quickly, telling him you’re about to vomit. Joel pulls out long enough for you to swallow back the vomit and catch your breath, his hand still locked in your hair, then immediately pulls you back over his cock and continues to selfishly use your throat.

When he feels the threat of vomit approaching again, Joel decides you’ve had enough. He wipes away the bubbly spit and mucus smeared over your face and neck. “On your back,” Joel orders, tugging his shirt over his head. “Panties off, NOW.” He nestles between your legs, spitting on two of his fingers before abruptly forcing them inside your cunt. Your eyes go wide, your back arching into a crescent as the sudden penetration overwhelms you. “You can take it,” Joel assures you, resting his cheek against your inner thigh, occasionally kissing the soft skin there while he fingers you. “Been smellin’ this little pussy all day, y’know that?” Joel smirks. “All the time we were goin’ back and forth at each other, I knew you were makin’ a mess all over your panties…”

Joel yanks his fingers from inside you and spanks your pussy, making you cry out. He doesn’t give you any time to recover before shoving his fingers back inside, pumping your guts like he’s angry at them. “You need an attitude adjustment,” Joel mutters darkly. “And probably a back adjustment too, by the time I’m done with you.” He flips you onto your stomach with his fingers still inside you. There’s a pressure against your asshole as Joel pushes his thumb just past its puckering barrier, penetrating you there as well. “Look at that,” he says, admiring the way you wiggle your hips to encourage him. “Keep pushin’ back on me like that ‘n I’ll put another finger inside you. Wear you like a fuckin’ puppet.” Joel chuckles darkly, his fingers toying inside your holes. “Guess that’d be one way to fix your brat mouth, wouldn’t it? Make you my little puppet so you can’t talk shit anymore.”

He pulls his fingers from your pussy and pops them in his mouth, sucking your arousal off of them with a groan. “Fuckin’ heaven,” he murmurs. “There’s nothin’ I’d rather do more than to bury my face in your sweet little cunt and lick you till you’re beggin’ me to quit,” Joel adds. “But that’d be a treat, and you don’t deserve it after the way you bitched at me all afternoon.”

He’s kneeling between your legs, his eyes coasting over your back and ass, admiring the pretty marks his hand left on it. He spits into his palm and takes hold of his cock, pressing his tip just against your asshole. He feels you tense, and smirks behind you. “Don’t worry sweetheart,” Joel teases, guiding his tip lower. “I’m not gonna put it in your ass.” He spanks you with his cock, your lips quivering around his tip. “God knows if I did, you’d make a mess all over the place and have to spend the night cleaning shit and cum out of the carpet.” Joel bucks into your pussy without warning, your lips parting in a low groan. “This way,” he breathes against your neck, his body curved over yours. “All you’ll be cleaning up is cum.”

Joel closes his hand around your throat, holding you in place with your back in an arch. He forces his cock as deeply inside you as possible, pulling back a little when he feels your cervix against his tip. “Hold still,” he gruffly orders. “You want to make things right between us, don’t you?”

You nod as best you can with Joel’s hand around your throat.

“Then be a good girl and lay here while I use you, understand?”

He lets you answer definitively, just to check in and make sure you’re alright. Joel may have been hurt and pissed off by your antics earlier this afternoon, but under no circumstances would he ever abuse you. He needs to know you’re alright with the kind of language he’s using, and the easiest way to do that while remaining somewhat threatening is to ask, “You think you’re ready to take what I’m about to give you?”

“Yes,” you reply without hesitation, knowing full well that if you said no, Joel would immediately stop. “I’ve been such a bad girl.” You feel his cock twitch inside you, so you keep going. “Need you to teach me a lesson…”

…And Joel does. He beats your pussy into submission, fucking you like he hates you when in reality, Joel doesn’t think he could love you more without his heart bursting open. He’s laying across your back, his body almost flush with yours, hands pinning your wrists to the ground beside your head. He rests his forehead against the back of your hair, panting hot and wet over your neck. With his big hand still closed around your throat, Joel pistons into you so hard your tits are smacking against his forearm with every thrust.

Your ass bounces off his stomach each time they collide, his cock punching frenetically between your warm, moist walls. Joel feels himself getting close, and prays he has the self control to pull out in time. You’re fluttering around him in a way that tells him you’re on the edge as well, so he continues to fuck you at the same pace that’s brought you both to this point.

When you start to come, Joel has to pull out. He knows you don’t want to get pregnant right now and as deeply as he’s fucking you, there’s no way his cum would end up anywhere other than all over your cervix if he stayed inside you.

As soon as Joel pulls out, he stuffs two fingers back inside of you and keeps up the same pace as his cock before. You ride out your orgasm on his fingers, while Joel uses his other hand to stroke himself. “That’s a good fuckin’ girl,” he pants over your back, letting go of his cock just long enough to give your ass two hard swats. “Keep squeezin’ my fingers, just like that, fuck…” Joel closes his eyes and lets out a string of curses, his cock spilling warm and white all over his lap.

Your cheek is resting against the floor, a contented smile on your lips when Joel catches you watching him. “So,” he pants, trying to catch his breath. “Are we good, little girl?”

You bite your lip, nodding affirmatively. “Yeah,” you reply, your eyes getting heavy. “We’re definitely good.”

[pettson]

maybe everybody moved on but i'm still here:

his reaction. his immediate reaction. is to PANIC. he is launching himself off that chair. like showing concern is one thing but the guy is ready to GO. literally a second ago he was barely even awake but he takes one look at her and goes from 0-100 in 0.2 seconds because someone hurt her. and the fact that tess knows exactly how he's going to react and knows exactly what to say to calm him down is just- i-

[colleenispunk]

i want him to squeeze me.

[jolapeno]

it means something

jackson!joel miller x f!reader

Summary: Compliments don’t fall from his tongue, but they drip from his eyes. They land on your skin, healing scars that don’t show; they make you glow, and feel like something worth choosing. Aka, Christmas with Joel when the two of you are bad at feelings, but your bodies say plenty.

warnings: soft!smut, two people bad at feelings. christmas wordcount: 3.5k an: originally written for pedrostories 2023 but gave a little refresh when i realised i'd never uploaded to ao3.

READ IT HERE

[gutsby]

Cry, Baby

Pairing: Joel Miller x Reader

Summary: Joel fucks you to the point of tears. That’s all.

Warnings: 18+. Dacryphilia (kinda). Unprotected p-in-v. Girthy, unspecified age gap. Daddy kink. Jealous Joel.

Notes: Sorry for using pussy pronouns. It will happen again.

Joel Miller was a man of few words in most every place except the one where he found himself about to beat the brakes off your pussy. Then he never shut the fuck up.

“Uh-huh…just a little more…I know, sweet girl, I know.”

You had your hands at 10 and 2 on the steering wheel of his ‘71 Ford F-100, but rather than driving anywhere, your ass was comfortably parked on the front of his jeans—straddling his lap backwards while you rubbed your half-clad cunt over stonewashed denim. It was hell.

You’d been grinding against the bulge beneath those jeans so hard, and for so long, your white cotton undies had parted to the side, and your pleasure was nearly stretched commensurate with just how pathetic you felt.

Your head dropped between your two hands on the black molded plastic of the wheel, and you let out a whine.

“Joel—”

“Keep goin’.”

“This ain’t fair!”

Without hesitation, the hands that were holding your hips tightened their grip, and now Joel was raking your lower half over his. Rutting your core back and forth.

“You wanna know what ain’t fair?” he seethed.

He didn’t wait for you to answer.

“How much she’s been droolin’ over me all night.”

‘She’ meaning your unfucked cunt, of course.

Joel then punctuated his sentence with a particularly hard press of his palm—forcing you to lay flat on the steering wheel, hips tilted back to him. With just one callused finger of his other hand, he found you soaked between your folds. He dragged it from your clit to your aching hole, and you heard him sigh, as though sad.

“It’s a cryin’ shame,” Joel said. Lamenting.

You were almost lost to the sensation of his finger rubbing you up and down, but somehow, you managed, ‘W-W-What is, Joel?’ in between soft, plaintive sounds.

Sometimes you forgot how much older he was than you. Sometimes you said he was just like the boys your age. Other times he had you pinned like this, breaths calm and cruelly measured while you damn near came apart beneath his hand, and then you remembered everything.

“You just couldn’t wait ‘til we got home,” he grumbled.

Using the same hand he’d been stroking you with, Joel laid a quick slap to your cunt, and you jumped. Your head narrowly missed the roof of his truck; still, you groaned.

“‘M’sorry, Joel,” you keened.

You weren’t. The old man knew you weren’t.

The hand that had been splayed over your back sank in. The force of that push pressed your belly to the chipped Ford logo at the center of the steering wheel, and with the added pressure went the blare of the car’s horn.

The sound might’ve lasted two seconds before you scrambled back, desperate, into Joel’s broad chest. A couple old-timers making their way from the bar to their cars in the parking lot cocked their heads curiously in your direction a couple yards away. Seeing nothing of note, they lost interest just as quick and kept walking.

“Sorry for what?” Joel said.

At the moment, he didn’t seem to notice, or care, that his truck was parked a mere stone’s throw away from the Tipsy Bison, and bar-goers were milling freely between the building and the cars all around you. His belt unbuckled all the same, zip came down in a blink, and his thick, veiny, throbbing, and angry cock came to rest between your cheeks. He started to push you forward.

“Sorry for— for flirtin’ with Tommy,” you stammered, sucking in a breath when you felt him run the head of his cock between your lips. You could hear a soft squelch.

“And Lucien?”

“And Lucien.”

“And—”

“And Dieter, and Frankie, and Javi, and Marcus.”

Rattling off the names of all the men you’d been flirting with at the bar to make Joel jealous and take you back home to fuck you became an embarrassing chant.

“And?”

“…and Mayor Garcia,” you completed, sheepishly.

Back in there, you hadn’t been too proud to stoop to a politician’s level, even. That was how needy you’d been to get attention, and now Joel was giving it to you.

As hard as he could—he didn’t wait for the ‘OK’ before seating you on his cock. You were simply pulled back from the wheel and into his lap, onto his stiff erection, and before you could steady yourself, he started drilling.

“Even through these panties—” Joel tugged at the cream-colored cotton he’d easily slipped past, “—even through that slutty little skirt, I could feel how wet she was.”

Your eyes squeezed shut, and your hands found purchase in the torn-up leather of the seat, fisting strings and patches of fabric in a helpless sort of plea as Joel took over. With the buttons of his dark green flannel searing a stripe down your spine and his grey-speckled chin coming to nudge between your neck and your shoulder as he fucked you, you felt content. Secure.

Spilling more for him, then. Seeping rivers down the length of his shaft as he breached your walls and made you his all over again. And again. Leaving trails of arousal with every thrust, and rolling your head, limply, into his.

“She cryin’ for me?” Joel breathed, “Or somebody else?”

As if on cue, his cock hit the most sensitive ridge inside you, and you felt yourself gush even more. Dripping now.

“You.” Your voice was raw.

“Me?” Joel’s degradingly sweet.

Before you could answer ‘you’ once more, the driver’s door cracked open beside you both. For one panicked, terrifying second, you thought someone from the bar might’ve caught you two—then you were stunned to look over and see it was Joel’s own tough, steel-toed boot that had propped the door open to the cool night air.

The truck was facing the bar’s front door, shielded only by some foliage and a hatchback car about half its size. Other than that, you were exposed to whoever happened to pass by the big, bay window and take a look inside.

Joel felt you tense, and he pressed a kiss to you neck. Then he slid you carefully, almost tenderly, to the left until you were perched over the side of the seat with your legs dangling out of the truck—still filled to the hilt with his cock and pressed tight to the front of his chest.

“Cry a little more,” he urged.

Then, when your pussy gave an involuntary clench and drenched him some more, he slipped a hand around your front and started toying with your clit. Your gaze was wide, almost frightened as you stared ahead at the bar and saw patrons making rounds about the tiny place, fearing one might see you and Joel, but it felt so good. And wrong. And reckless, having this man who was easily decades your senior bouncing you up and down on his cock and letting you soil the front of his Wranglers.

“Pussy’s fuckin’ soakin’ me, pretty girl,” Joel let out a chuckle and gave your shoulder a playful bite when you pulsed around him again, “Squeezin’ me real tight, too.”

It was like your body was beyond your own control. You scarcely even realized your cunt had him gripped with such force, much less made a mess of his old denim. He just held you to him and kept pressing rough, stubbled kisses to your shoulder, reminding you over and over how sweet you were, how well you were taking him, how nice and tight and goddamn pretty that pussy must’ve looked gushing around daddy’s cock—maybe we can fuck in front’a the mirror so we can see it later, huh, baby?

You would’ve said yes to anything he said, you reckoned.

Especially when his arms moved over your front and you felt him grin, and he hugged you while he fucked you—nobody made you feel quite as special while they were splitting you open. Nobody’s balls felt quite as heavy and firm and full while hitting your ass by turns, and certainly no one but Joel could make you cum just as quick when he leaned into your ear and said, ‘Let go for me, darlin’.’

You did, and you felt his warmth follow inside you with the friction of just two more thrusts. Your head fell back on his shoulder, a moan clawed out of your throat, and the warm, euphoric feeling of release washed over your senses in waves, one trembling sensation after the next. Joel’s groans were quick to spill into your own, and, likewise emptying himself, he held your hips to his and made sure every drop stayed right where he wanted it.

His spend was always heavy, but this load felt larger than usual—like he’d been aching to fuck you full of his cum. Just as you both were coming down from your highs, you couldn’t help but key in on that soft, sticky warmth, likely to come oozing as soon as Joel pulled out of you.

In fact, you got to be so focused that you jumped when you felt something press to your cheek a second later.

It took another moment to register it as a kiss from Joel.

Then his tongue, dragging softly up the side of your face.

You started to laugh, about to ask him what the hell he was doing, when you felt a tear slip out of your other eye. With the sudden, sharp influx of pleasure, the moisture had leaked out without you even feeling it. Joel grinned.

He gave your cheek a light squeeze, wiped the other tear with the pad of his thumb, and kissed you again before mumbling in your ear, almost teasing as he said it:

“Crybaby.”

[chaotic-mystery]

I have something for a request.

So Joel promised your father he would protect you from the Clickers and other people.

So you and Joel are walking through the forest and you start to annoy him. Because you are constantly asking how long does it take to get to the destination.

Joel had enough so he takes your virginity and your ass virginity roughly. So you shut up.

pairing: Post Outbreak!Joel Miller x f!reader

content warnings: DARK CONTENT AHEAD, PLEASE READ AT YOUR OWN RISK. 18+ only. Non-consensual that turns consensual. You are responsible for what you read. Daddy kink, rough sex, assplay if you close an eye, pet names galore (little one, pet, playtoy, baby girl, Joel refers to himself as daddy, you get the picture.) mean!Joel, Dark!Joel, choking, reader has hair long enough to pull, dirty talk, unprotected p in v, dacryphilia, pull out game strong, this is post outbreak but before Ellie so you know he got that stamina, Joel takes your virginity. LET ME KNOW IF I'VE MISSED ANYTHING. ||word count: 1.9k || follow @chaoticnotifs so you don't miss anything!||

authors note: This is so out of my normal and honestly I hope I did it justice! I know this isn't everyone's thing and that's okay! I personally pictured game Joel but that's just my preference. As always I love you all 🖤

“Will you please shut the fuck up?! All that goddamn talkin’ you’re doin, you’re gonna get us killed, Jesus Christ.” Joel barked as he turned on his heel, his rifle in hand. Joel promised your dad to keep you safe and while he has for a few years, it hasn’t been the easiest thing to do. You talked way too much for Joel’s liking but a promise was a promise.

“I’m just asking how much longer until we get to the tower…fuck me.” You grumble, annoyed at him for being so moody today. You were sweaty and tired, wanting to go back to the QZ in your little apartment you shared with Joel. He was over all your bullshit for today, sick of your smartass mouth just running and running without any repercussions.

“What’d you say t’me, little girl?” He snaps, the rifle falling to his side as his hand wraps around your throat and he pushes you into a tree trunk. The bark was hard against your back and scratched you, but it was nothing compared to the feeling you were having on your windpipe.

“N-nothing, Joel- nothing!” The words barely choked out of you, just enough for him to hear you beg.

“All you’ve been doin’ since we’ve been out here is talkin’ your pretty head off. What did I tell ya not even five minutes ago? Use that big girl voice since you wanna be big and bad.” Joels lips ghosted over the shell of your ear before he presses a rough sloppy kiss on your cheek. This was all so sudden, so new to you. No one has ever touched you like this, especially an older man like Joel. He was aggressive and mean, didn’t care about the fact his grip on your throat was tightening. He wasn’t in the mood to ask if any of this was okay with you, where his hands were quickly traveling to, none of it. Joel wanted to take what he wanted from you without you running your mouth.

A deep grumble erupts from Joel against your face, another sloppy kiss on your cheek while his tongue licks against your flesh. “Say it again, now.”

“I was just asking if we were close to the tower and-d that I was s-sorry-y!” You cried out, squirming under his touch trying to free yourself. With your back squished against the tree, there was nowhere to go. All you could do was plead and beg for him to let go and leave you be.

“What was that last part you’re leavin’ out, sweetheart?” The smirk on his face is so present in his tone you don’t even need to look at him. Joel’s freehand comes up your side, brushing against the bare skin peaking above your jeans. He could feel you trembling with fear and excitement. Joel knew you were still a virgin, he never let you out of his sight and always took the same work shifts as you so he could keep you close.

“I-ah shit- I said fuck me but I didn’t mean it like th-” Joels hand creeps up to your jaw and grabs it roughly, squishing your cheeks together and your eyes met his.

“Don’t care how you meant it sweetheart, planned on doin’ that anyway.” His smirk never faded and he without warning rips your jeans down, your panties tangled in them as the fabric bunches around your knees. The whimper that escaped your lips didn’t phase Joel as his hands wandered up your thighs to your slick covered cunt.

The guttural groan he let out rattled through your bones enough to make a chill run down your spine.

“Fuck are you so wet for, huh little one? Couldn’t control yourself could ya? Probably love the idea of being my playtoy while I take what I want and you’re beggin’ me to quit..but you know daddy won’t do that.” With his hand covering your mouth and squeezing tightly, your pleads were so muffled he could barely make out what you were saying.

Joel unbuckles his belt and pushes his pants to his ankles before he grabs you by the back of your neck and spins you around, forcing you against the tree once more as his hand pushes against the small of your back to make you arch for him. His hand reaches around your hips to dip down between your folds, rubbing harshly on your clit as the head of his cock nudged against your ass cheek.

You tried everything to pry his hand away from your mouth but he only squeezed tighter, growling at your attempts. “Might as well give up now, it’ll go over a lot better for you if you quit fightin’ me, sweet girl.” He mutters in your ear as he starts to ram his cock inside your entrance. He doesn’t let you get adjusted to him at all and the tears fall immediately down your cheeks. You cry out in pain, shoving his hips away from you but he doesn’t stumble back at all.

“Joel ple-ase it h-hurts” you murmur against his palm and he just chuckles as he begins to thrust inside you.

“Shut your fuckin’ mouth before I fill it for you, am I clear? S’okay, you’re just a little virgin, don’t know what you like. I’ll teach you what you like, baby; trust me.” He scolded. It felt as if you were being shredded and ripped apart from the inside out with the way he was carving away at you.

The only manageable response you gave him was a distressed “yes d-addy” which was just enough to make his head toss back while his hips slam into yours so harshly, the faint slapping of your skins echoed around you.

He lets go of the grip he has on your mouth, a string of saliva following from your lips to his palm and he grabs onto your shoulders to keep himself steady. Joel doesn’t dare let you see how much he’s enjoying this; ruining you and taking every bit of last innocence you had. His jaw was clenched tightly to keep his grunts at bay but it was still audible how much he loved feeling you clench around him so tightly, hugging his cock for dear life. Soon enough your pain turned to pleasure and you were fucked out of your mind, gripping onto the tree truck and begging for him not to stop as the pressure built up in your tummy.

“I knew you’d be a tight little virgin but damn sweetheart..” he leans in close and his hand finds its way around your throat once more, yanking you against him, “..you’re gonna be so dickdumb by the time I’m through with you-ughh- you’ll be beggin’ for me to fill you full every goddamn second you’re awake.” Joel’s other hand cups your tit through your thin shirt, kneading away mercilessly as your nipples get stiffer against your bra.

“J-joel please..I..I’m gonna come..” you whine out, body trembling and making it harder to stand up on your wobbling legs. Suddenly your head is being yanked backwards by your hair and Joel’s lustful eyes meet yours, his jaw still clenched tightly.

“Don’t you dare come until I say so. Be a good pet for daddy, mkay? Stay jus’ like that f’me, right there. Oh fuck, baby..” He stops thrusting long enough to put you down on the ground and him right behind you, shoving your face into the dirt with your ass in the air. In no time he finds his rhythm again and gives your ass a firm smack with a chuckle following behind it.

Joel slips the tip of his thumb in his mouth, covering it in spit before he traces over your asshole and goes inside you, groaning loudly as he can feel his cock pumping in and out of you just from having his thumb in your ass.

It’s taking every ounce of control not to come on his cock and disappoint him even more than you already have tonight. With your legs squeezed together as hard as you can, it wasn’t enough to keep your mind off of having the best orgasm you have ever had.

Sure, you touched yourself all the time while Joel was asleep in the next room over back in the apartment, squirming and whimpering like a kitten as your mind wandered to Joel and ran images over your eyes that just made it so easy to come for yourself. This however was not what you imagined Joel would be like. You imagined he’d be sweet, wanting to make your first time feel special and all that stuff you watched in movies before the outbreak. He was none of that.

“You want me to break you in two and just make your world crumble, huh? You filthy little one. You’re my toy now, no one can save you from me.” He spat as his thrusts got sloppy and his grip on your hips got tighter, nails digging into your flesh.

With your body fighting itself to not orgasm, your tears spilled out of your eyes once more, breaths so deep you squeak every time you inhale.

“Cry all you want, brat. They don’t mean shit t’me.”

“Daddy, ple-ease let me come-oh, fuckkk- I- I can’t hold off m-much longer, plea-se I’ll be good, pleaseee.” Trying to speak through gritted teeth, you begged and pleaded trying to reason with him so you could finally release.

“Come on then, let that fuckin’ pussy come all over me. Let me feel what it's like to have a virgin fall apart on my cock and beg me not to fill them up.”

The evil tone was enough to send you reeling and your eyes rolled back tightly as you finally released that pressure you had to put off.

“What a good fuckin’ pet you are for Daddy. That’s ittt.” He purrs, slamming into your hips as he panted loudly.

Your body felt numb and you were still seeing stars, your ears ringing and his moans were so muffled you couldn’t do anything but jolt as the waves of your orgasm washes over you. Soon enough he rips is cock out of your entrance and you feel empty, already missing him inside you.

Joel grunts and cusses loudly as he paints a pretty picture on your asscheek with his cum.

You fall to your side and catch your breath while Joel goes soft in his hand, watching you as he tries to manage his own breathing.

“Maybe next time you’ll listen to me, won’t you baby?”