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brooklynbedlam · 2 years ago

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Raw Violence

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!Reader

Summary: You’ve finally pushed Joel past his limits. When your anger gets the best of you, Joel’s there to put you back in your place.

Content Warning: no Y/N, smut (oral- m receiving, degradation, hair pulling, dubcon, dirty talk, unprotected p in v, choking, spitting (if you squint), rough sex, sex in the mud, basically porn what can i say), dom!Joel, enemies to enemies with benefits, language, knife (if you squint)

A/N: i’m kind of mortified that this came from my brain, but i feel like it would be a disservice to not share these thoughts. hehe. honestly though- i would let Joel do things to me that would make my grandma cry.

Word Count: 2800

18+ under the cut! Minors DNI!

You liked to be an easygoing person. You prided yourself in it, in fact. But even you have your limits. In all your years of life, only one person could bring out the very worst of you, the parts you didn’t even think you had in you. Joel Miller. Only he could have you muttering under your breath such hateful thoughts that your mother would have washed your mouth out for. Arrogant jackass. Stupid fucking old man. His haughty posture, his irritating smirk, the obnoxious southern drawl- all of it crept under your skin down to your nerves. Your eyes stare down at your boots as you walk through the mud, keeping the imaginary verbal assault to yourself. It’s only when you run right into him that you realize he’s talking to you.

You distance yourself with a few steps back. Why couldn’t he just keep his mouth shut for the rest of the patrol?

Joel turns around with that infuriating grin, “who you talking to back there?” he asks in a mocking tone. “No one” you reply, unwilling to even attempt pleasantness. “No need to get all worked up sugar”. There he goes again- testing your patience beyond what is humanly possible. If looks could kill, he’d be cold in the ground. You push him aside and keep moving forward down the trail. Joel chuckles and follows close behind unbothered. “What stick’s up your ass?” he jokes. You turn on your heels, index finger pushing right on his chest. “YOU,” you shout “are my problem”.

You somehow manage to stop yourself there. Your self-control amazes even him. More than anything you’d love to rip his ego to pieces and wipe that stupid smirk clean off his face. Joel takes a small step back, “Well, it’s clear this ain’t gonna be a pleasant conversation so why don’t you calm down and not say anything you might regret”. WOW. Where do you even start? Telling you to calm down or telling you not to say something you’ll regret? Now you swear your face must be bright red because you feel like you’re boiling, ready to blow. A dry chuckle leaves your lips as you mentally step off the edge and let your anger overtake everything. “Oh I’m sorry? Don’t want me to hurt your precious feelings there Joel?”. Your fists subconsciously clench with your jaw, knuckles going pale.

“Ain’t my feelings I’m worried about sweetheart. I’d rather be civilized with you but if you got another idea, fine. Do your worst”. Well, you heard him clearly, he was practically begging you to let every vile comment swirling around your brain out in the open. “You wouldn’t be able to handle the truth” you say confidently. Now that set something off in him. You see the change as his eyes go dark and his usual smirk turns into a threatening grimace. His posture makes you feel so small, but you keep your head high refusing to back down from this fight. “Oh yeah?” he growls, “You wanna run that by me again?”. Your entire nervous system is pleading to run, to apologize, and chalk it up to a bad night’s sleep. But you won’t, you can’t- not when it feels so good to finally let it all out.

“Gladly”. You push your chest out and straighten your posture, not nearly as tall but your eyes bore right into his. “You. Can’t. Handle. The. Truth”. Venom drips from your every word, you look for a sign that your words even landed because Joel stands unflinchingly. Almost like the words passed right through him, he refuses to break eye contact. “Oh, but I think I can. So go ahead: hit me with it. I dare you”. There’s a slight smile at the end of his sentence, a smile of that stupid arrogant confidence. He thinks he’s winning. You pause only for a moment to conjure up the cruelest thought you could dare speak. “Fine. Joel, you are the most insufferable prick I’ve ever met in my life. Every time I see you come around with that stupid goddamn smirk like you’re so high and mighty- I just wanna wipe that shit-eating grin off your face. You may think that every person in town is just so scared of you and your stories, but everyone sees you exactly for what you are- a coward”. For a moment Joel looks almost hurt, then he gets angry, real angry. The rage in his expression threatens to cause an explosion. Yet his voice is cold and controlled, an underlying danger in his tone. “That’s all huh? I’m guessing there’s more?” he replies stoically, his clenched jaw and wild eyes the only giveaways of what’s going on in his mind. Then a perfect addition comes to mind, something that will really bruise his ego.

“Yeah, there is. You’re such an asshole with your ridiculous sob story and how you drag that poor girl Ellie through hell just so you can play house again,” you barely even recognize yourself as the words leave your mouth but you keep going, now moving in even closer. “Frankly, I think you’re just a pathetic bastard”. For a moment you see the hate in his eyes, as if he’d like nothing more right now than to shoot you and leave you for the strays. And then, slowly, he lets out a low chuckle- a laugh that’s equal parts amusement, anger, and something else. When he finally speaks, his tone sounds…different. “You done?”. You can’t help but smirk and cross your arms, head high with a sense of victory. “I’m done”. A sense of pride settles in your chest, no witty remark from Joel this time. You’re completely caught off guard when he moves with deceptive speed, getting you in a lock with one hand, and a knife to your throat with the other. His face is inches from yours, a dark fury in his eyes. “You sure about that sweetheart? Nothin’ else you wanna get off your chest?”. His hand tightens around your throat, enough to feel the growing pressure. Joel burns with violent intensity, primal anger that seems to belong in the distant past; a threat, a warning, a promise.

With rapidly fading confidence you muster up another dig. “You don’t have the guts to stand your ground Miller, because you’re just an insecure little man”. Joel’s grip tightens another notch, impossibly close to cutting off your circulation altogether. A pathetic whimper leaves your mouth, betraying the little confidence you have left. He seems to notice the slight fear in your eyes and a smile pulls at his lips, “You really wanna bet?”. Your alarm bells are ringing, although it could just be your head pounding. Physically, he has you under his thumb. In a last-ditch effort to free yourself, you elbow Joel’s chest and break out of his grip. You quickly pull out your switchblade, evening the playing field. You notice a grin on his face. “Something funny Miller?”.

His hand grabs your wrist lightning fast and with brute force, sending the silver blade tumbling into the grass below. Joel looks unhurt, unflustered. “No, I just thought you’d put up a better fight”. Your grunts and squirming are to no avail as he effortlessly pins you into the tree behind you. One hand holds you down while his leg keeps you in place. Your breathing is heavy and you watch as his gaze lowers ever so slightly. You curse yourself for wearing a v-neck shirt, but especially for even getting yourself into this situation. A calloused hand slowly makes its way to your waist, gliding up the thin material of your shirt. His breath fans against your skin, “Give up?”.

Even though your heart is pounding, part of you finds it exhilarating. Your confidence returns if only just to satiate your curiosity. “Make me”. You bite down on Joel’s arm, hard enough for him to let go. He’s caught off guard and he pulls his arm back. You take the small window of opportunity to land a punch square in his jaw. Joel looks back unfazed as his hand brushes the stubble of his cheek. He laughs. It’s a cold, cold, calculating laugh, one that rings with the threat of death. Smiling down at you he looks amused, “You want me to make you?”. “I’d like to see you try”. Your brain is positively running on autopilot, replying out of pure instinct and void of any rational thinking. The hatred has now morphed into a strange blend of curiosity and something else that strikes you down to your core. You fight with every bone in your body to grapple with him, and though you are strong, it’s no match for Joel. In no time you’re down in the dirt, Joel pinning you down with his weight. He smiles and your heart sinks. It’s a terrifying smile with an undercurrent of unbridled violence. He doesn’t look hurt or even like he broke a sweat; he’s just as energetic as ever. The only difference now is the bulging weight you feel against your thigh. It sends electricity to your core as your mind runs wild. Joel moves his hand slowly down your chest, letting his rough hands relish the soft skin. His eyes lock on yours, and it’s a terrifying sight. He leans closer, and his voice is low, almost a whisper, yet it seeps into your very bones. “Say please”.

“No” You bark and focus all your energy on resisting the thoughts that are flooding into your mind. You know what he wants, what he’s asking. But you won’t let him win. “Final warning, sweetheart. I don’t play nice” he chuckles dryly, a feral bearing of teeth. At this point, all better judgment is out the window. There’s no backing out, your pride too fragile to do anything but stand your ground and make him regret ever existing. Joel is impossibly close, light breath fanning your face. Fuck it, you’ll fight dirty. You close in and kiss him with equal parts passion and hatred. His hands move to grip you, pawing anxiously at whatever skin his hands can find. With a rough grasp of your ass, you moan into the kiss before biting down on Joel’s lip just enough to draw blood. He smiles, pulling back with a small bead of crimson running down his lip. His face is ice cold, but you’re drawn to him. Attracted in a way that defies logic, explanation, or understanding. Your heart races, breath becoming heavier, you feel...strange. Like you want him, as if you need him, desire him. Your body and soul crave it even if blatantly disregarding your mind.

You bring a delicate hand to wipe a trace of his blood from your lip, and in an unexpected move you pull him down to your level and sit in his lap. Joel makes no effort to resist. That annoying grin on his face spurs you to grind into the rough denim of his pants, the dull friction sending shock waves up your spine. He does his best to hold back a groan but you can see it on his face just how much he’s enjoying this. You keep going, slowly building your orgasm to its peak. You’re so close. Blood rushes to your head and you feel electricity spark through your legs down to- fuck. Just as quick as it came along, your pleasure disintegrates under you. Joel has pinned your hips down against him, stopping all your movement. You whine at the loss of motion. Cheap move.

He pushes you from his lap and stands, his erection clear under the thick jeans. “I think you’re confused darlin. You think you just get whatever you want?” he scoffs. “I’ll tell you how this is gonna work,” he says in his smooth Texas drawl, “you are gonna do whatever I tell you and if you can behave yourself then maybe I’ll consider giving you what you like”. Your head is still reeling from your almost orgasm, but you’re coherent enough to hear his instruction. He grabs you by the arm pulling you to your knees. Thick, calloused fingers tilt your chin up and drop your mouth open. Joel looks down at you expectedly as his leather belt leaves its loops. You stare daggers at him but he only grins “be a good girl for once, or I could just tie you here and leave you for the stragglers”. With that, you stifle your pride and release his confined cock. You pathetically take him in your mouth and lazily swirl your tongue around the angry, leaking tip. That wasn’t enough. He thrust mercilessly into your throat as you struggled to breathe, gagging on his thick length. Joel’s lips parted with sinful growls as he guided your head. You were nothing more than a means to his end, he could care less about the air struggling to make it into your lungs or the saliva that dripped onto your chest.

He suddenly pulled out, hissing at the loss of contact. “Get on the ground and take off your clothes”. A simple request in itself but you stared unsure whether to comply or face the consequences. Deciding on the former, you look into those cold brown eyes while removing every article of clothing. Joel smirks as his hungry eyes wander your naked body, imagining what you’ll feel like, what kind of heavenly noises he could conjure out of you. He brings himself down the ground, approaching needily. You could still smell the coffee on his breath and the faint smell of his woodsy cologne as he hovered over. Your breath hitched at the sensation of his cock prying at your weeping hole. Without warning, he fully sheathed himself to the hilt. A shaky cry left your lips as you struggled to adjust to the size. Joel held himself still, composing himself, only for a moment before setting a violent pace. You braced yourself on all fours but soon found the force to be too much. Your arms weakened and buckled leaving you“You’ll do anything I say won’t you?” he looks down almost with pity. Brain rotted with pleasure, you stutter to make even a simple response. That answer doesn’t suffice. Not for Joel. A firm hand pulls at your hair, lifting your eyes to look right at him. “Answer me”. He grips your hips tighter, pushing you deeper into the mud. Your hands blindly search for an anchor, left to dig into the mud and branches underneath you for support. “Yes Joel!” you yell, using all your focus to get the words out. There is just a hint of cruelty at the center of the darkest, most dangerous eyes you’ve ever seen. But they’re on you, all for you. “You like that huh? You like what I’m givin’ ya?”.

Joel’s groans build as you watch the light brown strands of his hair mat to his forehead and his teeth grit. He wants more and more- an unbridled, raw, and ravenous hunger for you and you alone. And for once you see eye to eye. He’s all you can see, all you can hear, all you can feel. The cold mud underneath and ever-dimming sunlight aren’t even an afterthought. “Now tell me sweetheart, who would you do anything for?”. It’s like something else is controlling him; his own animalistic desire a creature all its own. A force of nature, the likes of which only the apocalypse could make a man. “You.....you.....you” comes out in pathetic whimpers. Tears prick at your eyes, it’s just too much. His hands grabbing at your skin, his thick cock burying deep inside you, the beautiful sounds coming from his mouth as he uses you. He notices and threatens “not yet”. Joel digs his fingers into the plush flesh of your hips as his relentless pace begins to falter. “Now come for me darlin'”. Relief floods your body as you finally get your release, crying out and clawing into the earth. Feeling you tense around his cock, Joel pushes himself to the brink with a merciless pace. Your name leaves his mouth like a primal chant, pulsing into you, letting you milk him for everything he’s got.

You’re left panting breathlessly in the cold air, skin warm with thousands of red hot nerve endings alight. “See, you’re a good girl when you stop using that head of yours”. For once, you don’t have a snarky response. Joel’s face meets yours just mere inches apart. He smiles, dark eyes black as pitch- burning, burning. With breaths just starting to settle he finally breaches the distance. It’s a surprisingly soft kiss, to juxtapose the violent, selfish acts that preceded it. But deep within it a hint of a deeper truth; something that's hidden for all this time.

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #tlou #the last of us #pedro pascal #pedro pascal smut #brooklynbedlam #open arms and open legs

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