whoever this beloved anon was I am so touched by your kindness! You definitely didn’t have to do this but I am so happy you enjoy this idea and I will happily expand upon it for you!
this is just a collection of word vomit bullet points for the time being but I will happily answer any and all questions about this pair!!
warnings: violence, angst, child death (Sarah Miller), foul language, the same warnings that apply to tlou, reader is Sarah's mom and described as having similar features to her.
So the general Idea is that you and Joel are happily married before the outbreak.
You had been Sarah's mother, his high school sweetheart he got pregnant when neither of you were old enough to have any reaction to the pregnancy test other than a fucking panic attack in one another’s arms. but you made it work
you both worked but made time for one another and your sweet girl, going to museums every other weekend and joel insisting on swooping you off for a date every now and then
nothing special. He knows you’re more of a diner gal than anything too fancy that makes you both feel out of place.
On his birthday in 2003, you had planned to tell him that you were pregnant again. But the memories of your own fears of motherhood from all those years ago begin to swirl through your head again and you get cold feel. deciding to tell him the morning after
it is his birthday afterall, you want to focus on him.
but when you’re woken up in the middle of the night because tommy needs to get bailed out, Joel kisses you sweetly one last time before promising he’ll be back and you can’t shake the feeling that something bad is happening.
its you that shakes sarah awake that night. shouting at her to put on her shoes when she’s still rubbing the sleep from her eyes because you’ve been listening to the radio for the past two hours, calling joel again and again and again praying for him to fucking pick up but to no avail.
Sarah, bless your little girl’s bleeding heart is the one who insists you check on the adler’s against your better suspicions and when you find the eldest looming over her daughter, blood and sinew dripping from her mouth, you grab your daughter hand and burst into a full sprint until something slams into your back and sends you tumbling onto their front lawn
its how joel finds you, struggling to keep the once sweet old woman, whose now nothing more than dead eyes and gnashing teeth straining to snap at your pulse point as you push against her while sarah shrieks before your husband runs forward and cracks her skull with a wrench.
there’s hardly a moment of pause, just enough for him to pull you up and into his arms before he’s ushering you both into the car with an urgency.
when the truck crashes, you get separated from them. Perhaps at Tommy’s side when the flames rise and create a wall, separating you from your husband, or maybe pulled into the mob of chaos when trying to escape from those already infected-
all joel knows is that you promise you’ll find him: just get sarah to safety and you’ll meet him at the river
Poor thing is already so frightened, held in her father’s arms with tears streaming down her face insisting they can’t leave you they just can’t but her father kisses her forehead and reassures her its going to be okay
“we just need to be brave, okay babygirl? Your mama’s real tough, she’s gonna be alright.”
he isn’t sure if he’s saying it to his daughter or himself.
but when he comes to the river you aren’t there. Only a soldier who points a gun at the scared little girl in his arms and then he loses everything
its when the light is gone from his daughter’s eyes that he realizes. His voice cracked and raw from sobbing that he looks around to see his brother with drawn in shoulders and tears in his eyes but his wife is nowhere to be found.
Tommy says you got lost in the chaos. Everything was so loud, so sudden that he turned around and suddenly you weren’t there.
Joel wants to go back but its Tommy that stops him, that dulls the red in his vision to a sad faded pink because his brother points at the orange horizon not too far from them, so much of the city is already in flames.
“We’re gonna find her, but not there.”
So Joel searches. for the first year spent in the world post-outbreak its all he did.
He became a smuggler because of it.
Information came at a price and he needed to be able to fucking pay it, whether it be in blood or ration cards. He was willing to do anything to find you or any thin thread that lead your way.
But it’s Tommy that asks him to give up. Not in those words of course.
The youngest Miller knows better than to say something so cruel that would make his brother, the only person he has in this world turn on him.
But his voice is worried when he asks him one night in Boston when he hasn’t even had the chance to wash the blood from his knuckles
“You think she would have wanted this for you?”
the fight that followed his words was brutal. Vicious insults and scarred fists slamming against each brother until they're both too tired and bloody to continue. Each leaning against a wall for support and Tommy’s wavering voice breaking the silence.
“I don’t know where she is, Joel. But I do know you're gonna get yourself killed if you keep lookin’ for her.”
All he can do is nod.
It’s a few days later when he meets Tess. Who has heard plenty of stories about the elder miller’s brutality and wants him to put that muscle to good use for some extra profit.
It begins his new life. One that empty and cold but one he can live.
Until of course, Ellie comes along. The sweet and incredibly opinionated girl that makes him become something akin to the man he thought died twenty years ago.
its when he’s traveling with Ellie, that it happens. When a warm familiarity has settled between the two because so much blood and pain has been shared he can’t help but see her as something close, something bright even though all he can force himself to utter in her reference is “cargo”
when theyre traveling through the woods as Ellie chatters away, probing his memory about a movie that may or may not have existed thirty years ago because her descriptions of the plot are incredibly odd he hears a voice shout for them to stop and finds himself staring at a man- no, a boy- pointing a gun at them.
Ellie stills, but Joel can see enough to know that from the lanky figure and dimpled face that he’s young. Maybe twenty, twenty-two at the oldest, but his eyes dart from Joel to Ellie with a pinprick of fear that allows Joel the time to charge forward and slam him to the ground before wrestling the gun from his hands.
He has enough to time to tuck it under the stranger’s chin before he hears the sound of the safety being turned off and finds himself looking up and seeing a gun just inches from his face.
Joel’s head whips around when Ellie’s voice calls out his name in fear, he turns to see another stranger holding her a gun point, shoulders drawn back and a shadow cast over their face by the had obstructing their identity.
“You hurt one of mine, I hurt one of yours. That a fair deal?”
Its takes him a moment to recognize you. It’s been so long since he’s heard your voice, the sweet tease when you would poke at him each time he woke up late despite the fact that you reminded him to set his alarm the night before, the times you’d chide him with a harsh “Joel Miller!” whispered in public anytime he was able to grab you a bit too passionately to be appropriate in public but the laughter in your voice let him know you were never truly mad at him. You didn’t know how to be.
But that sweetness is buried under a cold rasp that cuts through the air as you point a rifle at the scared little girl in front of you.
“You think I won’t?” You’re older now, skin covered in scars from a life he didn’t know you got the chance to live and your eyes are cold as they regard your husband. “Put the gun down and get the fuck off of him, I won’t repeat myself.”
Joel mumbles your name in awe. The woman he loved, the woman he mourned the one he fought so hard to find stands before him like some sort of hallucination and suddenly the world feels like its spinning until you bark orders at him again.
“You’ve got five seconds Joel, make a fucking choice before I make it for you.”
He looks down and realizes the boy under him, the one with the bleeding nose and snarling face has your eyes and his dimples.
“One.”
The one above him has Sarah’s hair. Soft brown curls that shine under the sun.
“Two”
Wait. No, they both do.
“Three.”
Twins. Jesus fucking Christ you had twins.
“Four.”
Joel holds the rifle up above his head and the one boy standing snatches it from his grasp, tossing it to the ground and kicking it far from his reach. He slowly stands, allowing your son- dear god your son- to scramble to his feet.
Your voice softens just for a moment. “You okay, Duke?”
Blood stains the bottom half of his face from where Joel slammed his fist into the boy’s nose just moments before, but he nods nonetheless.
Now, they both stand on one side of you and he can see the resemblance clear as day the same way he would whenever Sarah was by your side.
When you order him to hand over his bag, he does so without question before telling Ellie to do the same.
She watches him with wide eyes, her hands still up in the air but gaping at her companion as if he had grown a second head.
“Joel!” “Just do it, alright?”
He doesn’t miss the way you watch their interaction with narrowed eyes until she tosses her bag to you and you slowly lower your gun.
“Now, you want to tell me what the fuck you think you’re doin’ at my home?”
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visitors in the night
characters: kafka x dom!fem!reader
cw: use of strap, rough sex, mentions of somnophilia, reader might be like a robot or smth idk what’s going on with them
a/n: i have no clue what i was wafflin on about something about story setting i think i had a headache ok idk also sorry for any spelling / grammar / punctuation mistakes. even though reader is not actually gendered they just have a fem body, can be read as wlw, read it if u want to idk.
“kafka.”
you glanced up at the purple-haired woman from the book you were reading in bed, watching silently as she pushes it to the side, sidling into your lap.
she doesn’t speak a word, her body language telling you enough. the silk robe wrapped loosely around her body brushes against your skin, and out of your periphery you can see it falling to the sides of her thighs, exposing the milky white skin to you—surely all to get you to pay attention to her. but you can’t find it in yourself to entertain it, eyes boring into hers as you waited for her to explain the interruption.
kafka pouts when you seem unfazed by her advances, resting her arms around your shoulders and leaning in a little closer, “come on…”
she all but purrs into your ear, pressing her body against yours in yet another attempt to get a reaction out of you. to be perfectly honest, you weren’t expecting this out the her. sure, at one point, you played with and entertained her, thinking it’d be a one time thing and you’d both move on. but the enigmatic woman has come waltzing back to you just one too many times to be ‘just for fun’, clearly making herself at home in your residence. you sighed, this is going to be a long night.
and on your lap, kafka shivers. the thin material of her robe doing nothing to keep her warm from the cold air, and instead relying on the heat from your body. a jarring contrast from the iciness in your expression, the very same disinterest that first drew her in. with excitement beginning to swirl in her lower belly, kafka readjusts herself, loosening the knot that held her robe together and letting it slip lower on her shoulders.
“kafka,” you repeated, your eyes fall to the side as you reluctantly set down the half-read book to finally pay full attention to the woman on your lap. the sound of her name falling from your lips sent shivers down her spine, her back arching just a little.
“did you need something?”
she smiles; lips curling as her eyes scan over your face, tracing the curve of your jawline before finally resting on the neckline of your dress shirt, the top buttons unbuttoned with a clear view of your cleavage.
“don’t be like that, darling. i think we both know what i need from you,” she sounds almost breathless, her voice low as one hand reaches for the button that struggled to hold your blouse together, the soft cotton stretching tight over your chest. with a soft sigh, you put your hand over hers, effectively stopping any attempt to unbutton your top.
“i don’t believe i received any message from you about what you might need?” you tilted your head to the side, sitting up a little straighter as you slowly brought her hand to your lips, giving it a soft kiss before placing it where it was previously—wrapped around your shoulders.
“i’m sorry, should i have scheduled an appointment with you?”
“that would be ideal…” your voice trails off as you wrapped an arm around her waist, gently laying her on the bed as your other hand supported you. kafka smiles up at you, breathing deeply as your head dips down to kiss her neck, your arm wrapped securely around her waist; your slow, steady movements beginning to drive her mad.
“then i’ll have time to prepare,” you whispered, bringing your hand from around her waist to cup her breast, massaging it through the silk robe. you hear a soft sigh from the woman, her chest pushing against your hand as you thumb brushed over her nipple.
your lips traveled down her collarbone, pushing one side of the robe aside as you beginning to kiss around her breast, purposefully avoiding her sensitive bud that you know she likes to be touched. kafka’s breath quickens, feeling her back muscles tensed as you tease around it, her grip on your shirt tightening.
“prepare?” her voice was beginning to sound strained, breathing unevenly as you continued to kiss around her breast, everywhere except where she wants to feel your mouth the most, meanwhile the other side was left neglected and aching. kafka presses her head back into the mattress, her body begging for more but not wanting to push you for it. had it been anyone else, she might have just forced them into what she wants, take over their will to do her bidding. but for reasons unknown, that doesn’t work with you. which then begs the question of why she keeps coming back to you knowing you’d tease her like this. she doesn’t quite want to think about that yet, though, instead focusing on your hand that pushes apart her legs, fingers tracing along her thighs.
“to fuck you, of course.”
—
at this point, kafka wasn’t really sure how long it’s been, her hands gripping the soft sheets as you left get your strap. it actually hasn’t been that long yet, perhaps maybe a half hour had passed since she first sat on your lap. but in her lust-fuelled mind, it felt like hours considering you have yet to fuck her like promised.
instead, you spent the time kissing and caressing her body, massaging her chest and teasing her nipples. and you were so fucking good at that, licking and sucking on her sensitive buds until they felt raw and swollen. and even after you would continue to roll the buds between your fingers, until you drew out soft whimpers from her, shying away from your touch and yet her hips trembled with need.
“finally,” kafka mutters, watching from her spot on the bed as you came back with the toy, her purple eyes following your every move as you slipped it on and secured it in place. just the sight of it aroused her further, anticipating the feeling of your cock buried in her walls already.
her robe was a mess; the lower half pushed to the sides to expose her pretty pussy to you, glistening even in the dim lighting of the room. even so you stopped her from undoing the knot that held it together, “keep it on, i quite like it actually.”
kafka only smiles in response, holding your gaze as you crawled over to her once again, before hooking her legs over your forearms and pushing it up. now in this position, it was much more obvious how wet you’ve got her, pussy oozing with juices as it awaits your cock. her breathing gets heavier again as you continuing to toy with her, her walls clenching and unclenching. your fingers brushed along her entrance and watching as more fluid leaks out her, and an involuntary twitch of her hips.
“come on,” she groans, leaning her head back and wiggling her hips, urging you to do something already. you could only laugh in return, before lining up the tip of the dildo to her hole, and in one swift motion, pushed into her pussy completely.
“ah—!” the yelped that escaped her lips was uncharacteristic, and ‘surprise’ was not an emotion she could relate to, but the feeling of your cock buried fully inside her in one thrust was unexpected. instead she had expected you to take your time, fucking her slow and steady until she can no longer take it.
but now kafka could feel your cock in her belly, pushing against her insides so deeply that she could barely breathe. without even giving her time to adjust to the sudden stretch, you’ve already beginning moving your hips, pushing deep into her with every thrust and making sure your hipbones pressed against her ass every time.
you kept your breathing steady, and your movements sharp, pressing kafka’s thighs down until she was almost folded in half, forming a pretty V-shape as her legs hung limply. to you, it merely felt like a workout, the only pleasure you received from this was watching the woman below you gasp and moan out from your relentless thrusts. watching her normally collected composure crumble, and her eyes roll back with pleasure.
even as kafka started to squirt halfway through, her juices spraying out every time you pulled out, you kept up your brutal pace, pushing back in full force. her body bounced with your thrusts, and every movement caused her sensitive nipples to brush against the silk fabric which only amplified the sensations running through her body.
now, sounds of wet skin slapping against each other, and kafka’s gasps for air filled the room. her hands gripped your arms, nails digging into your skin but you barely noticed it, fully focused on the woman beneath, watching every rise of her chest and every twitch of her hips. you’ve done this enough to know, what her body likes the best.
kafka could barely take a full breath between each of your thrusts, and it didn’t matter how tightly her pussy walls clenched; not when you’re pulling out and forcing it back in like that. pleasure coiled in her lower belly, tightening until it was almost unbearable. she could feel her hips and thighs quivering, the muscles struggling against your grip. in and out and in and out, kafka feels her mind getting dizzier, your cock felt so good inside as her back arches, right on the verge of an orgasm before it all suddenly stops.
in an instant, all sensations was ripped from her and she could no longer feel your warmth. somewhere in her mind, she just barely registers the whine that leaves her throat, body aching for your touch, your cock, once again. so out of it that she doesn’t even notice you flipping her to her front, face buried in the sheets as you lift her hips off the bed. the moans that escaped her lips she can’t even care to muffle; high-pitched and needy when you pull her hips back onto your cock, the lewd sounds echoing through the room.
the orgasm that you had so cruelly ripped from her was quickly building again, this time much faster as the tip of your cock pressed against the swollen bundle of nerves within her with every thrust. pain and pleasure mixed together under your bruising pace, kafka was sure that she’d feel it in the morning, but she cannot complain. after all, this was what she wanted—what she needed from you.
this time, you don’t stop. even as her pussy ached from oversensitivity and the bed below has been completely drenched with her juices, your hips continues to fuck the cock into her. until nothing but shaky breathing could be heard from the woman below you, her body falling limply to the bed as you finally released her hips, imprints of your hands pressed into the milky skin.
—
thankfully, you still remembered the page you left off in the book you were reading, picking it up as you sat back in the spot you were in previously. having now showered and cleaned up, you were ready to resume your peaceful reading.
on the other side of the bed, kafka was still in the same position you had left her in. whether she had fallen asleep or passed out, you didn’t really care to know. and you could still see her body twitching occasionally; surely an after effect of your actions. well, it didn’t matter. you would finish your reading and go to sleep, and in the morning when you awoke again, she would already be gone.
—
when kafka awoke, the room was dark and you had long since fallen asleep. her body felt stiff and sore after what you did, but ultimately she can say gave her exactly what she needed. that you fucked her until she passed out was amazing in itself, but leaving her like that and going to sleep yourself was clinical. the coldness and disinterest from you that she can’t get enough of, her pussy throbbed as she observed your sleeping body, how easy it would be to use you to get off right now, rip off the damned clothes that hid your body from her hungry eyes.
instead she reels herself in; there was work to be done. biting down on her bottom lip, she drags her spent body off the bed, only now realising the huge stains left on the sheets. she assumes embarrassment is what she should be feeling now, but instead she finds a pen and some paper.
i’ll pay for the sheets. my apologies, you were just too good. ♡
as she leaves your residence, kafka pulls out her phone. thinking back to your words earlier, she smiles as she drafts a message scheduled to be sent to you.
‘i’ll be coming over again tomorrow night. don’t say i didn’t schedule an appointment with you.’
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