Joel‧ ₊˚✩ - Blog Posts

𝓳𝓸𝓮𝓵 𝓶𝓲𝓵𝓵𝓮𝓻 smut = ❤︎ request = 𝜗𝜚

well hello 𝜗𝜚 ❤︎

sweet treat 𝜗𝜚 ❤︎

insecure 𝜗𝜚

bad girls get punished ❤︎

accidents ❤︎

“bad girls get punished”

synopsis: you tried to escape the camp, but joel decided that you needed a punishment, a very explicit lesson. word count: 2,3k warnings: +18 minors dni, mean!joel, dubcon, smut (explicit), joel slaps reader, violence, blood, forceful!joel, reader doesn't listen and it makes joel mad, detailed violent clicker scene, sex on the ground, joel continues to call reader 'mine.' please let me know if i have missed anything!

you hear a bone snap before you see anything. a sick, wet crunch from somewhere deep in the trees like someone twisted a chicken wing the wrong way, meat tearing off the bone. you freeze halfway through your step, boot caught in a knot of roots, your breath catching behind your teeth.

joel’s hand is already clamped tight over your mouth before you can scream. he shoves you down into the dirt, pinning your back with his forearm, hard enough to make your lungs stutter. “don’t make a fuckin’ sound,” he hisses low into your ear, voice like sandpaper, eyes fixed ahead. you nod or atleast try to. his fingers are calloused, digging into your cheek like he could silence your heartbeat too if he wanted.

through the gaps in the bushes, you see her. she’s young, maybe your age. younger, even. someone who thought she could sneak out, just like you did. she was barefoot, bleeding, limping—looks like she tried to run. the clicker moves slower than you thought they would. deliberate and grossly confident, its fungus-masked face jerks toward the sound of her sobbing, its legs twitching, head cocked.

you should look away. but you couldn’t because joel won’t let you. his other hand moves from your ribs to your jaw and grips it tight. keeping your face turned and your eyes on the scene unraveling just beyond the trees. 

“watch,” he says, just above a growl. “you wanna sneak outta camp? you wanna act grown?” you try to close your eyes. he presses harder, his fingers bruising. “no…keep ‘em open.”

you see the girl trip, blood gushing from her calf where something tore. you see her try to crawl. you see the clicker leap; it lands on her back, she’s screams outloud before it cuts out. her body jerks. she kicks once, then again, then nothing.

the clicker’s face buries into her neck, and the sound is worse than anything you’ve heard since the outbreak. it’s wet, sucking noises, like it’s chewing through a tendon, like it’s drinking her.

you feel your stomach heave, bile burning your throat. you cry out into joel’s palm, and he shushes you like he’s soothing you. “you need to see this,” he says, voice hoarse. “you need to fuckin’ learn.”

you’re shaking, not because of the cold or the horror only feet away. but because his breath is hot against your ear, and his body is pressed very tight against yours; which is making your cunt is wet. you’re disgusted with yourself, but he feels it. his thigh is slotted between yours. his hips are pressing down just enough while your clit is pulsing against the denim of his jeans, cruel friction. he doesn’t pull away or shift position.

you try to twist out from under him. trying to scream, or beg, or run. but his hand stays clamped around your mouth, and you go nowhere.

“she thought she knew better, too,” he murmurs, voice all gravel and guilt. “probably thought no one would notice if she slipped past the patrol.” the clicker’s still chewing. joel leans down closer, his nose brushing your temple. “they fuck ‘em, sometimes,” he whispers. “when there’s still enough brain left.”

you sob at that, your whole body trembling in his arms like a leaf underfoot. “you wanna see what that looks like? you wanna be next?” you shake your head violently, tears soaking into his palm.

he finally lets go of your mouth. his hand slides down to your throat, thumb resting over your pulse. “you scared?” he asks.

you nod making him hum low and satisfied. you hear the clicker lumbering off, dragging what’s left of her. you’re still under him, still trapped in the dirt, pants soaked through—cold, sweat, or arousal, you can’t tell anymore.

joel finally shifts his weight. his hand doesn’t move. “good,” he says. “then you’re finally fuckin’ listening?” you don’t answer. so he slaps you; a clean, backhand across your cheek that leaves your ears ringing and your teeth aching. not hard enough to knock you out—but hard enough to stun you. 

“answer me when i speak to you.” “yes” you choke out. your voice is cracked raw. “yes, joel.” 

he growls then grabs your chin and forces your eyes on his again. his pupils are blown wide. his brow is knitted with rage. lips curled, and his jaw clenched so tight you hear it pop.

“you wanna be safe?” he asks. you nod. he leans in, nose to nose now, the stench of sweat and old whiskey coming off his skin. “then you fuckin’ listen to me.”

his hand slides down. over your throat, down your chest, between your breasts. he doesn’t ask permission. you were so wet that he probably felt the heat before he touched you. his fingers glide over your belly, then down—pressing between your thighs.

he swear. “gotdamn.” your face burns with shame and need. he grips your hair and yanks your head back. “you get wet watchin’ that?” he hisses.

“no,” you whisper, but it’s a lie, and you both know it. he slaps you again. this time you moan. his mouth drops open just slightly, like he wasn’t expecting that.

his fingers slip under the waistband of your pants. your breath hitches. he finds your pussy wet and puffy. “this what you want?” he sneers. “you wanna see blood, girl? you wanna feel the difference between them and me?” you whimper. “answer.” 

“i want you,” you say, barely audible. his hand stills, then, not even a second passes before he rips your pants down in one sharp pull, cloth tearing and buttons snapping. your thighs squeezing together instinctively. “too late for modesty now,” he mutters, and forces them apart.

he doesn’t undress or ask, he just unbuckles his belt with one hand, the other still shoved between your legs, two fingers pumping into you now.

he kneels over you, thick cock already hard and angry, precum at the tip. it was large, veiny, and curved with an angry tip. bigger than anything you’ve had before. you try to speak, but all that comes out is a ragged moan.

he grabs your jaw again and turns your face to the side. pointing at the result of the clicker scene. “look over there,” he growls. “look at what they did.” you see the blood trail. a smear through the dirt. you start to cry again.

joel lines himself up, presses the head of his cock against your cunt and watches your expression twist. he doesn’t push in yet. just he holds it there. “you think this is cruelty?” he asks, tone gone strangely quiet. “you think i’m the monster?”

you don’t answer, forcing him to he slap your cunt. you jolt, crying out. it hurts, but it feels good. he pushes in, the stretch is delicious. but, your pussy wasn’t ready—your body wasn’t ready for that thick cock. you scream into your arm, biting down to muffle it.

he bottoms out anyway while your world goes white. joel leans down, lips at your ear again. “this,” he growls, “is what real protection looks like.”

he doesn't move for a second. just stays buried inside you, deep, like your cunt belongs to him now. his hand spreads wide across your belly, thumb brushing the curve where his cock is pushing you out from the inside. you wonder if he wants to feel how deep he is.

your legs twitch under him, trying to close, to pull away, but he pins them open with his knees. “no, no,” he murmurs, almost soft and sweet. “lesson ain’t done yet.”

he starts to move. pulling halfway out just to fuck back in deeper.

“feel that?” he says, breathless. “feel how deep?”  he’s all the way in, balls flush against your ass, cock splitting you open with every thrust. your slick is everywhere now—slick and dirt, mixing into something that shouldn't feel good but does. shame coils up your spine like smoke, like barbed wire.

he fucks you harder. you choke out a pleasure-filled sob. “hush now,” he grunts, teeth bared. “you wanna cry, you cry for her.” his hand moves back to your jaw, forcing your head to the side again. 

“you remember her face,” joel snarls. “you remember what happens when you think you can survive without me.” his cock slams into you as you gasp, tears leaking down your cheeks and into the dirt.

he doesn't stop. “they’ll take you like a piece of meat,” he growls, each word punctuated with a thrust. “they’ll rip you open and fuck the holes that ain’t even there yet.”

your pussy tightens at the thought. joel feels it, hears the slick slap of skin against skin grow louder. he laughs. low and mean. “you like that, baby?” he breathes. “dirty little thing, scared and wet.”

“you run off again, baby,” he says, soft like a promise, “and next time i let ‘em have you. i sit back and watch while they tear you up.” you whimper. “but not before i get mine first.”

you moan, choked and hoarse as his pace speeds up. the thrusts get faster, his balls slap against your ass, his cock driving so deep you can’t breathe.

your pussy makes that filthy sound now, every thrust louder than the last. he kisses your cheek and licks the tear off your face and growls, “that’s it…take it.”

his hand snakes under you, between your thighs again, finds your clit. you jolt like you’ve been electrocuted. “please—” you gasp as he rubs harder. two fingers circling, pressing, working your clit in tight circles while his cock fucks you raw. “please joel, let me cum.”

“you come on my cock, baby, right now.” he snarls. your body goes tight, clenching around him, your cunt squeezing like a vice.

joel groans and grabs your throat. you cum so hard your vision whites out. your hips jerk and your pussy pulses so hard around him it drags a filthy curse from his lips.

“so—fuckin’, you’re tight—” he slams in one last time, then holds. his cock twitches, and you feel his warmth. his cum spilling inside you; he was leaking out already as his hips rock slow, pushing it back in. “that’s it,” he breathes, panting. “mine now.”

he stays inside you, breathing hard, holding your neck. licking sweat off your skin; your whole body’s gone numb except for the ache between your legs and the thick stretch still buried in your pussy. joel finally pulls out and you feel your hole gape open, dripping cum.

he crouches next to you. grabs your chin again. turns your face to his. “you learn your lesson?” he asks, quiet but firm. you nod. he taps your face this time less harsh, more like a reminder. “say it.” 

“yes, joel,” you whisper. “i learned.” he grins. 

he stands, buckles his belt, eyes still on your used body. “good,” he says. “get up.” you try to move, but your legs won’t cooperate. he sighs and kneels, scoops you up like you weigh nothing. you cling to his chest. he walks past the blood trail and doesn’t even glance at it. “next time,” he says, voice low, lips against your hair, “you wander off again, the next lesson will be worse.” your cunt clenches.

he carries you like you're precious, even though you feel filthy. your pants torn halfway down your thighs, cunt leaking a mixture of his cum and your own shame onto his arm. he doesn’t flinch. his grip is so sure and possessive, one arm tucked under your knees, the other pressed firm against the sweat line of your back. your body curls into his chest without thinking. 

he doesn’t speak the whole walk back. you feel the pulse of him, steady and slow under his shirt, every step vibrating up your spine. your thighs stillache. your pussy’s still twitching, open, sensitive to the wind. every step jars you, jostles your used hole, and his cum dribbles out, warm down your ass, coating your thighs. you can feel the smear of it every time your legs shift in his arms.

and still—your body doesn’t want to leave him. that part’s worse than the rest. the part where your cunt is already sore and fucked full and yet you want more—more of him. the weight of him on top of you again, the sound of his belt hitting the dirt, the press of his hand on your throat when he growls mine through clenched teeth.

he doesn’t put you down when he reaches the edge of camp. he walks straight into his shack, boots heavy against the floorboards, one after the other, until the door creaks closed behind you. only then does he let you down. he places you on the clean mattress—draped in a wool blanket. it smells just like him. your thighs stick to the fabric when he lets go, and you wince when your pussy brushes against it.

you lie still, blinking up at the ceiling. joel stands at the foot of the bed, watching you with careful eyes. he shrugs off his jacket, then pulls his shirt over his head. you’ve never seen him bare like this before—not fully. you saw pieces of him in glimpses, in flashes between thrusts—his stomach flexing, his chest damp with sweat—but now there’s no distraction. just raw, lined muscle and thick, grizzled skin.

he leans on you and sinks onto his elbows some what like a plank. his nose brushes your cheek. his voice is soft now, terrifyingly tender. “you think i wanted to scare you?” you blink up at him. vision blurry.

he kisses your eyelid. “i wanted to teach you. i wanted you alive.” you breathe, chest heaving under him. “you’re mine now, kid.” you nod. he kisses you, not rough or harshly, and that’s the worst part because you kiss him back.

“Accidents”

synopsis: after going on a run with joel and ellie despite joel’s request for you not to, you get hurt in the process, and joel helps you recover. word count: 1,4k warnings: smut, female receiving, use of curse words

joel has always had pretty eyes, guess seeing him this close and in the light you truly noticed how pretty and tired they are. the wrinkles in his face that haven’t yet been mirrored in yours—god, that thirty-year age difference was sometimes worrisome. you desperately want him to see you with crinkled eyes and wrinkles; brushing his hands through your grey hair like you did his when he goes—

“darlin, are you even listening to me?” he groans out on his knees, massaging your injured ankle. “this is why i tell your dumbass to stay and not go out on runs with me. i already have to keep myself safe and ellie safe, but you just…” he trails on about safety.

he wraps his thick hand, covering the entirety of your ankle. you can feel his calluses rub against your skin. it makes you wet just thinking of those same hands wrapped around your neck not even a day ago.

“you guys needed help and i didn’t want you to get hurt,” you manage to make a noise, putting your dirty thoughts away. “i’m young, meaning i’m strong… isn’t that a quote?”

on the run, joel, ellie, and you were spotted by clickers. trying to protect him, you jumped in front of him before a clicker got him, but as you killed the clicker, you twisted your ankle.

your handsome man lets out a groan and a laugh. “you’re lucky i put up with you.” he finishes the massage, wrapping it with medical tape. “you’re not going to be able to go to the movie night.”

“man, that blows,” you say, leaning on the pillow he brought out of the bedroom. “i wanted to see forrest gump. i’ve never seen it.”

he smiles, not reaching his eyes. “you and i are going to stay here until i patrol, and ellie will switch. you can see forrest gump another time.”

he grabs a blanket, covering your legs. you hadn’t noticed that it got cold, even though you were only in your panties and his flannel. you mumble a thank you, grabbing a book from the bookshelf next to you.

he picks you up, placing you on his lap, blanket still on you; rocking you back and forth, kissing your neck and biting your earlobe. aw man, what did you do… he always did that when he wanted to either have sex or he was upset but didn’t know how to express it.

“what’s wrong, baby?” you say, putting your book to the side and leaning closer to his touch.

“i just… i was scared… god, you just don’t listen sometimes,” he groans out, still sucking the skin around your ear. “i can’t always protect you, sweetheart.”

you nod against his lips as they travel down your neck. “next time i tell you we’re going to be okay… trust me… me and ellie came here after so much, so we can handle it.” he pulls your legs open, careful with your left ankle.

“i know—i know i’m just a little protective over ellie… i don’t want anything to happen to her.” you moan lowly as his hand finds the inside of your thighs. “i, uh—mhm—uh, i was worried about you too.”

joel's breath is hot on your skin as his mouth trails down your neck. his beard scratches against your pulse point, a coarse drag that makes your thighs twitch. his fingers press into the flesh just above your knee, working higher, the calloused pads teasing the soft skin of your inner thigh. 

you’re still wearing only his flannel, swallowing you whole, sleeves rolled up to your elbows, the top few buttons undone from when you tugged on the collar earlier, needing to breathe.

his hand brushes just beside the wet patch forming on your panties. he doesn’t move fast. joel never moves fast unless he’s angry or desperate, and right now he’s just worried and horny; trying to express it the only way he knows: by touching you.

“you’re real mouthy for someone laid up with a busted ankle,” he mutters, lips curled just slightly as he looks up at you from where he’s pressing soft kisses into your collarbone. “goin’ out there like you’re fuckin’ invincible.”

“i just wanted to help,” you breathe, trying not to writhe against his lap like a bitch in heat. his hand is under the blanket now, pushing it aside, fingers ghosting along your hip, then back down between your thighs again. your panties are soaked, practically clinging to your lips.

“help?” joel chuckles darkly, teeth scraping against the shell of your ear. “you’re damn near helpless now, sweetheart. can’t walk, can’t run. you’re stuck right here.” his fingers hook under the waistband of your underwear, dragging them down your thighs, slowly. the air is cold against your slick folds, but his fingers are warm—he's warm—thick digits sliding through your slit.

“you listening to me now?” he says gruffly, pushing two fingers into your cunt, slow and firm, the stretch making your breath hitch.

“mhm,” you murmur, thighs trembling. “i’m listening.”

“good,” he whispers, pumping those thick fingers in and out of you, the rhythm steady, relentless. “ ’cause i need you to listen when i tell you that if somethin’ ever happened to you, i’d lose my fuckin’ mind.”

your pussy clenches hard around his fingers, the rough rasp of his voice sending sparks down your spine. he curls his fingers just right, pressing against that spot that makes your vision blur. his other hand cups the back of your head, fingers tangled in your hair, holding you steady as he tongues the crook of your neck and bites down hard enough to bruise.

“joel—fuck,” you whimper, grinding helplessly against his hand, your fingers gripping his flannel, knuckles white.

he groans low in his throat, a gravelly, needy sound as his palm presses harder against your clit. “that’s it, baby. let me take care of you, yeah? you need this. after scarin’ the shit outta me.”

“i’m—i didn’t mean to—”

“shhh,” he cuts you off, sucking a mark into your throat that you’ll probaly feel for days. “you can say you’re sorry with your cunt.”

now that makes you moan. the sound rips from your throat as your hips start rocking against his hand without shame, soaking his fingers. he adds a third finger, making your whole body jolt.

“you hear that?” he growls against your ear, lips slick with spit. “listen to how wet you are, baby. drippin’ all over my fuckin’ hand.”

slap, slap, slap—the obscene noise of his fingers plunging in and out of your pussy echoes in the small room. you grip his shoulder, nails digging into the soft flannel, trying to anchor yourself as your orgasm coils tighter.

“i was fuckin’ scared,” joel whispers again, almost broken now, voice cracking as he sucks your earlobe into his mouth. “thought i was gonna lose you. and the worst part? i wouldn’t even know how to go on. not after everythin’.”

“i’m here,” you manage to gasp, barely able to speak as the pleasure crescendos. “i’m here, joel.”

“show me,” he growls.

your whole body jerks when he flicks your clit with just the right pressure, and the dam breaks. you cry out, grabbing at him as your orgasm crashes over you, pussy clenching hard around his fingers, body trembling in his lap. he doesn't let up, fucking you through it until you’re twitching.

joel pulls his fingers out slowly, smearing your slick all over your inner thigh, then dragging them up to his mouth. he sucks each one clean, eyes locked on yours, expression unreadable.

“you’re stayin’ here next time,” he says, voice firm, leaving no room for argument. “don’t care how young or strong you are. if you want to be useful, you stay alive.”

you nod, still panting, chest heaving.

he kisses your temple, soft and slow. “next time, you tell me what’s goin’ on in that stubborn head before you throw yourself into danger.”

you grin, still hazy. “next time, you just fuck me before patrol and i’ll be too sore to even leave the house.”

that gets a real laugh out of him; his hands settle under your ass, shifting you closer on his lap. his cock is hard under you, pressing insistently through his jeans, but he doesn’t move to unzip. but for now, he just holds you, body warm, rocking you gently till you fall asleep.

notes: my first joel writing ahhhhh

special tags: @inbred-eater , @wintfleur , @555aturn