pairings : possessive! joel miller x fem! reader
synopsis : Joel shows you just how possessive and needy he is. with all the yearning he does, in his own time.
warnings : possessive behaviour , smut , oral (reader receiving) & f1ngering
iris’s note : writing this based on how I want a man to yearn and long for me lol. but to be honest this might scare the shit out of me if it was reality. stay safe everyone!!
the first time you noticed it was subtle- the way his fingers lingered too long when he handed you a knife, how his gaze darkened when Tommy joked about your bravery. but when a stranger at Jackson's gates dared to look at you with interest, Joel's reaction was anything but quiet.
his arm snaked around your waist, pulling you flush against him as he stared at the man down. "problem?' he growled, voice thick with warming. you felt his grip tighten- not enough to hurt, but enough to mark. the stranger paled as he turns his back to scurry away.
later in the dim light of your shared cabin, Joel crowded you against the wall, called hands framing your face. "gotta stop tempting fate, sweetheart" he murmured, hot breath against your lips.
"ain't gonna let anyone else get ideas"
the air in the cabin was thick with tension, charged like a storm about to break, Joel's hands– rough from years of survival , warm despite the winter chill outside– cradled your face with surprising tenderness. his eyes searched yours, dark and intense under furrowed brows.
he didn't kiss you right away.
instead, he hovered there– a breath away– his nose brushing yours. as he inhaled deeply like he was memorising your scent. a low sound rumbled in his chest: not quite a growl anymore but something softer.. needier.. possessive of you.
then finally— finally— he closed the gap
the kiss started slow, firm lips meeting gently at first before deepening into something hungry and claiming. one hand slid back your hair while the other gripped your hip hard enough to leave warmth behind even after contact broke.
when he pulled back just an inch? his voice came out a gravel-soft..
Joel didn't give you time to respond.
the word mine still hung in the air between you when his mouth crashed back onto yours, hotter and more desperate this time. the kiss wasn't gentle- it was a declaration, fierce and unapologetic. his teeth grazed your bottom lip briefly before he kissed you again, deeper, like he was staking claim on every part of you.
one arm locked around your waist while the other tangled in your hair at the nape of your neck_ gentle but firm pressure keeping you right where he wanted, trapped against him with no escape.
a quiet groan escaped him as his body pressed flush to yours- the hard line of his chest meeting yours through thin fabric- and for a man who always carried himself with controlled restraint? it surprised even him how badly he wanted this.. how badly you made him want it.
then suddenly– he broke away entirely.
Joel stepped back—just one step—but the distance felt huge.
His chest rose and fell rapidly, eyes dark as midnight. He stared at you like he’d seen a ghost… or something sacred. The air between you crackled with unspoken things: want, confusion, maybe even fear.
For a long moment, neither of you moved.
Then Joel exhaled sharply through his nose— a man wrestling himself —and dragged both hands down his face like he was trying to scrub away the intensity of it all. His jaw clenched hard enough to hurt; that muscle ticking in quiet turmoil.
He didn’t apologize for kissing you.
Didn’t say sorry for claiming what wasn't technically his…
But he also didn't reach out again right away—because this? This changed everything between them—and Joel wasn't stupid. He knew that once lines got crossed… there was no going back to how they were before tonight at Jackson's gates
The air between you and Joel was suddenly charged- thick with something unspoken, electric. the usual easy banter, the lazy grins exchanged over shared meals or quiet patrols... it all felt like a lifetime ago.
He stood there in the dim light of their shared quarters, jaw tight, not angry- not guilty either- but thinking. always thinking too hard about things that should've been simple.
You could see it- the war behind his eyes, the yearning of a man to love you like a sinner would to a goddess, battling against his primal fucking need to devour you whole, like a wolf would to a poor lamb.
Joel's breath hitches, his hands- large, calloused from the battles fought and won- tremble as they hover over your skin. the war in him is visceral. the way his jaw clenches to suppress a growl, the dark flush creeping up his neck when you so much as tilt your head toward him.
He wants to worship you. on his knees.
with whispered prayers against your throat like a man begging for mercy at an altar.
but then, his fingers curl into fists, knuckles white with restraint. because that same devotion twists into something feral, possessive fire licks through him and suddenly he's imagining pinning you down just to feel if this love of yours is real or if it'll dissolve like smoke between them.
A ragged exhale escapes him as he finally touches you- not gentle but not violent either- desperate and claiming all at once, as though memorising every inch before deciding whether to cherish or consume.
Joel doesn't speak, no.. he can't. not when his blood is this hot, not this fucking hungry. the second his palm presses against your waist, a shudder rips through him like lighting. his other hand fists in your hair, tilting your head back with rough devotion as he crashes his mouth onto yours.
it's not just a kiss- it's claiming.
teeth and tongue, the sharp sting of desire too long caged. every breath you take is stolen by him and god help you if it doesn't. his body cages yours against the nearest wall or surface- no space left for air or sanity.
he nips at your lower lip before dragging wet kisses down to that spot beneath your ear- the one that makes you melt- and growls against your skin, low and primal, a sound more animal than man
One second, he's a man on the edge- breathing like a storm within his lungs, his eyes darkened with need. The next? he lifts you effortlessly, your back hitting the mattress as his mouth crashes onto yours again. the kiss is filthy, all teeth and tongue with claiming heat that burns straight to your core.
his hands are everywhere at once- under your shirt to map burning skin with rough palms, gripping your thigh with the other to hitch it over his hip so there is absolutely no space left between you, fingers tightening in fabric ready to tear off if needed.
He breaks for air long enough to mutter against kiss swollen lips, "tell me.. just now much you want this" but you both know damn well neither of them wants that- not when every ragged breath says this fore will consume them whole.
The air between you crackles- thick with tension, charged like lighting strike about to explode. Joel doesn't wait for your lips to part in reply, he takes. his mouth is on your neck again, teeth scraping over your pulse point before his tongue soothes the sweet sting.
One hand yanks at fabric- buttons pop off as he rips your shirt open, of course he'll get you a new one or hell you'd wear his clothes, doesn't matter. the other slides up exposed flesh, calloused fingers dragging fire across every inch they claim.
He's panting now- a wild rhythm matching yours, as his lips trail lower, collarbones kissed bruised, chest mapped with open mouthed bites that make heat pool low in your stomach. every touch screams ownership, and when his palm cups the curve of your breast through lace? he lets out a low groan- the sound vibrates through both you like a live wire snapping shut.
The second his fingers brush the clasp of your bra, it's gone- flung somewhere across the room without second thought. His mouth descends on you like a man starved, hot and wet, devouring. Tongue circling one peaked nipple while his teeth graze just enough to make you arch into him with a shaky breath.
His free hand slips lower- past your waistband, past fabric that suddenly feels too much. When his palm press against your heated spot between your legs? A shudder tears through him, he curses under his breath, filthy, like he's discovering something sacred and sinful at once.
He kisses up your body again in slow torment- nipping at ribs, licking over collarbones- until finally capturing your lips in another searing kiss, all tongue and teeth and claiming hunger that says this isn't love anymore... it's worship through fire.
The moment fingers hook into the waistband of your pants, he doesn't hesitate- yanking them down in one rough motion, fabric tearing at the seams. The sound makes him smirk against your skin, dark, feral satisfaction.
He drops to his knees without breaking eye contact- a predator worshipping its prey. His hands grip your hips hard enough to bruise as he leans in.. and then his tongue drags a slow, filthy stripe up the center of you. teasing. tasting. testing how wet you are for him already.
A low groan rumbles from his chest when he finds it- your arousal driving him wild- and before you could collect yourself?
He dives in like a man possessed , mouth hot and greedy, teeth grazing just right, tongue circling with obscene precision that has your thighs trembling around his shoulders.
His tongue flicks and curls with filthy expertise- every swipe deliberate, every suck calculated to unravel you. The sounds he makes as he devours you like a man who's been starving for this exact taste.
One hand pins your hips down while the other slides up your inner thigh, spreading you wider for him. His stubble scratches deliciously against sensitive skin- adding friction that makes your back arch off the mattress beneath you.
Then his fingers join in, two pressing inside without warning, curling just so, while his mouth seals over that perfect spot and sucks slow and deep. The vibration of his groan against your clit? That's what shatters whatever composure either of you had left.
The tension coils tighter- every nerve in your body screaming toward the edge. Joel feels it, he knows.
His fingers pump faster, his tongue flicks harder, and that sinful mouth of his? It seals over you like a brand, sucking with just the right pressure to tip you over.
Your back bows off whatever surface is beneath you as pleasure detonates, white-hot and electric. Your thighs clamp around Joel’s head instinctively, he doesn’t pull away—not even for air. He drinks in every shuddering gasp, every twitch of your hips against his lips like a man addicted to your taste.
When it finally ebbs? He kisses up your trembling stomach slowly… lingering on each bruise he left earlier… before crashing his mouth onto yours again: letting you taste yourself on him.
Filthy. Possessive. Perfect.
