Amy | 32 | She/Her | Queer✨ Joel Miller apologist & Pedrito girlie ✨
Don't wanna be here? Send us removal request.
Text
PEDRO PASCAL Entertainment Weekly - October 22, 2024
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
joel miller was not born to be hardened and soulless and guarded!!! he was not born to be calloused or cold-blooded!!!! he was born to love and be loved and laugh and frequently feel a swelling of emotion in his heart too incredible and overwhelming and beautiful to fully comprehend when he looks at someone he loves!!! he is a victim of his circumstances!!! doomed by the narrative!!!! joel miller was not made to be cruel!!! he was made to be kind!!! and forced to change in order to endure and survive!!!
734 notes
·
View notes
Text
no i am not well, but thank you for asking!
402 notes
·
View notes
Text
PEDRO PASCAL as JOEL MILLER HBO's THE LAST OF US SEASON 2
5K notes
·
View notes
Text
All he wanted was to protect the girls in his life.
483 notes
·
View notes
Text
Pedro doing promo for The Wild Robot
190 notes
·
View notes
Text
𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝
summary: the world crumbled before you could experience the touch of another. Joel does his best to keep you innocent for as long as he can.
pairing: Jackson!Joel Miller x afab virgin!reader.
warnings: 18+ mdni. established, undefined relationship. PUSSY RUBBING. fluids galore. just the tip. perv!joel. unspecified age gap. fingering. dirty talk. overstimulation. male masturbation. FEELS. Joel is a conflicted old man. reader is able bodied. no Ellie. w.c. 2.9k
an: i watched a porn clip and instantly went rabid thinking about jackson!joel.
-> follow up to a glimpse of heaven but it's not necessary to read the first part.
𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭 ⋅ 𝐅𝐢𝐜 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐬 ⋅ 𝐉𝐨𝐞𝐥 𝐌𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭
Like most of Jackson, the house you share with Joel is quiet and calm when night falls. Rain softly patters against the window as you lie in bed, wide awake. Another night of fruitless sleep under your belt.
You huff irritatedly, your hand collapsing against the mattress as you bitterly kick your bedspread onto the floor. Your oversized shirt clings to your body, your skin dewy from the exertion, and you're close to crying. Your limbs are wrought and overworked after hours of touching yourself with no orgasm to show for it.
Your hand won't cut it; it isn't enough. It can't reach all those sensitive spots that make you float among the stars.
Warmth pools in your abdomen as you think of one that's the perfect size.
A hazy hue of yellow light pours under your bedroom door as it spills from the room across the hall.
Joel.
It takes a long time to get to know someone, but they tend to meld with your soul once you do in one way or another.
From the start, Joel was intimidating. He was so frayed around the edges that you were afraid he'd completely unravel in the middle of your journey. He didn't seem to care for your company as the two of you traveled across the plains to Jackson, hesitation poisoning every fiber of your being, but you kept on with the strange man since no one else was willing to trek across the states. You desperately needed a new life, a fresh start away from the Boston QZ, and Jackson sounded like the perfect spot.
Over time, Joel opened up, conversing little by little as you drove for miles across the now barren US. Usually, after you had a close call with raiders or the lone gunman, he'd go silent, the weight of protecting someone other than himself sinking further into his soul, consuming that much further.
What you never expected was for him to be your first touch.
Sweltering tension slowly grew like a wildfire. Catching each other's curious stares, lingering fingers, and salacious banter until, one night, he slid a cautious hand into your panties. He claimed your untouched sex when you confessed over a roaring fire and a bottle of whiskey that you'd never been with another. His weathered hands were gentle as he sunk his fingers into your core, watching with rabid fascination as you came for the first time, gasping from his touch.
The following day, as he drove you across the interstate with the sun slowly rising, he made sure you knew that wouldn't happen again. "I'm much too old. Don't wanna waste your time with a mean ol' grump like me."
You didn't bring it up again.
One month after settling into Jackson, picking bedrooms, and deciding who would do which chores, Joel had his first taste of you.
It wasn't supposed to happen.
You chewed your dinner slowly in the modestly sized dining room across from Joel. You were so lost in thought that he was concerned enough to ask what was wrong.
"What does it mean when a man eats you out?" you naively pondered, causing him to choke on his veggies.
Joel had never looked so red before as he took a long drink of whiskey. You instantly apologized, explaining that you overheard a group of women conversing while you tended the communal garden.
He raised a hand, curbing your frantic rambles. "S'ok. Figured you'd be learnin' things. Just didn' think I'd be the one you'd ask."
"But I trust you."
His jaw twitched at your words.
Later that night, Joel fell to his knees at the edge of your bed and tossed your legs over his broad shoulders. "Never tasted a pussy so sweet," he mumbled against your glistening folds as you ran your fingers through his graying curls. You came multiple times on his tongue, grinding his whiskered jaw while he hungrily lapped at your soaked folds like he was dying of thirst.
You didn't bring it up again.
It's warmer in Jackson now. The sun hangs longer in the sky. Snow boots and jackets are stowed away until the next freeze.
You slink from the warmth of your bed and pad sockless across the hall. Lightening flickers brightly under the starry sky. The night rain storm slowly whirls through the city, soaking everything in its path.
Joel's door is open. A soft smile tugs at your lips; it's his way of saying he's still up. He keeps it ajar while he reads before rolling onto his side and bidding goodnight to the world.
Three soft knocks alert Joel from the guitar-building manual he's currently reading. Dread clouds his mind for a moment, wondering why you'd be knocking on his door at this time of night, but he takes a deep breath and grounds himself in the softness of his bed.
"Yeah?" he calls out. His tone is rough around the edges after a long day on patrol.
You poke your head around the door with a timid smirk. He looks at you over his reading glasses before marking his spot and laying his book on the side table.
You don't say anything as you stride into his room. He notices your oversized shirt swaying at your knees before you climb into his bed and curl against his side like a cat.
He drapes an arm around your shoulder, unconsciously pulling you closer.
"'Nother bad dream?" he questions with a low rumble.
You shake your head. "Can't sleep."
You nuzzle your face into the crook of his shoulder and feel him nod, understanding the endless struggle for a night of peaceful sleep. It's improved since moving to Jackson, but the dreams never end.
Silence fills the bedroom except for the soft pitter-patter of rain against the roof. Joel leans against the headboard, sighs through his nose, and lets his thoughts drift. He's content to sit with you in his arms for as long as possible, even if that makes him selfish.
He wonders if you hope to find someone to settle down with, someone less ridged and mentally maimed, someone less him.
The thought drives a stake through his heart.
He'd be crazy to say he didn't love being around you. Your laugh and lopsided smile took the first brick out of his impenetrable fortress when you spied a deer and her calf frolicking in an open field in Kansas. From then on, it became easier for him to let his walls down.
When you came to him with those big doe eyes and urges about wanting to know what it's like to be touched and desired, he gave in each time despite his reasoning.
He would masturbate each time after getting his hands on you, also thinking about the early days when he'd catch glimpses of you changing or the time he first saw you naked while showering at the YMCA.
He's still trying to figure out what to make of you. Friends? Lovers? He certainly didn't mean to fall head over heels. Love had no place in his heart, but he'd be a fool to say he wasn't extremely fond of you.
"Can you make me feel good again?" your lithe voice broke the silence.
Joel stops breathing. Your question doused him like a cold bucket of water. He knew this would come back and haunt him.
His hand curls tight around your shoulder as he wrestles with the devil on his shoulder. "Told ya we shouldn't keep doin' this, Sweetheart," he reasons, trying not to break your heart.
"But I can't make myself feel as good as when you've done it. I've tried!" You whine, burying your face into his chest.
"S'not that I don't wanna," he admits, soothing your soft cries. "S'just, you're too precious to do that wit' someone like me."
You lift your head and brazenly brush your lips against the exposed skin of his collarbone, earning a low groan as he curls a large hand around the back of your neck. He tugs you away from his skin, your lips still forming a tight 'O', and pins you with a stern gaze.
"Joel, it hurts." Your watery eyes and trembling bottom lip are his downfall.
"Lay back, Sweetheart, and spread your legs," he orders with a husky tone.
You don't make a noise; too afraid he'll stop if you do. Your cunt beats against the gusset of your panties as you lay on your back, spreading and bending both legs at the knee, just like he taught you.
A warm breath fans down your face as he shifts down your body before kneeling between your legs and tracing teasing fingers over your covered mound. His nails lightly scratch along the worn cotton, making you suck in a frantic breath. He slips a practiced hand beneath the crotch of your panties and deftly explores your folds, gently rubbing small circles on your clit after wetting his fingers with the arousal that's pouring from your cunt.
"Oh, she's achin' real bad, huh?" he groans as your opening clenches beneath his wandering touch.
"Joel, please, I need-" You gasp, hips wantonly grinding against his hand, desperate for any type of friction.
The muscles in his jaw ache. It's only natural you'd be wanting more.
Before he thinks twice, Joel draws his cock out from his sweatpants. Your stomach cramps at the sight as it smacks against his belly; he's massive.
His cock hangs heavy between his thighs like a solid, dangerous threat. It weeps from the dusky tip, shiny liquid dripping from the crown as he squeezes his hand around the girthy base peppered with dark gray, wiry hair.
"Got somethin' that'll make you feel good, sweet girl." he grits, tapping his cock against the covered crux of your pussy. It thwaps devastatingly against your clit, forcing a gasp from your lips as mind-numbing pleasure races up your spine and leaves you staring dumbly up at him.
"S'that what you need? Need my cock to keep 'er from achin so bad'?" his cock is searing as it lies in wait atop your panty-clad mound. You swear you can feel his blood pumping steadily into his shaft.
He cautiously thrusts his hips, sliding his length along your cotton-covered mound. Your slick arousal seeps thru the material, wetting the thin cotton and creating a sensuous touch as he glides along your cunt.
He shoves your shirt up over your chest, exposing your breasts to his hungry gaze. He licks his lips, "Such'a beauty."
Your cheeks flame at his words. Having such a man say things about you makes you lightheaded.
Joel groans as your panties practically are now see-through from your combined fluids staining the cotton, "Oh, baby." You whine at his pet name. "I got ya. Keep those legs open, just like I taught ya. S'good girl."
He keeps a steady pace, sawing back and forth over your extremely soaked mound. Your puffy pussy lips stick to the soaked cotton, leaving nothing to Joel's imagination. He glides easily along your slit, your juices smoothing his path until your arching your back and chanting his name like a prayer.
Watching you orgasm under his touch is enough to drive him wild. He throws all sense of logic out the window. He's okay with being selfish again.
"Let's get these off, yeah." He hooks two fingers under the elastic and slides your panties off before his words register in your euphoric haze. "Feel even better without 'em."
He swallows hard at the sight laid out before him. The sheets splay and curve around your naked body, making you look like an ethereal being sent to test his limits.
"Gonna give 'er a kiss, Sweetheart," his deep timbre vibrates your body as he draws close and touches the bulbous tip of his cock to your exposed folds. Blood rushes to your cunt instantly, bordering on the edge of pain. You cry out from the intense contact, and arousal slips freely down your crack as he traces his cockhead up and down your soaked slit.
"How's she feel?" He anchors his head, looking down at you from under his lashes.
"S'nice," you half whisper, half moan. The wanton bliss slowly consumes you the more he rubs against your sticky folds, keeping a hand locked around his girthy base, his crown glistening with your combined arousal.
Your eyes tear open, back arching like a bow, when he cants his hips and taps his cock square in the center of your cunt.
"M'not gonna fuck you, sweet girl, wanna keep you whole," he declares, holding true to his word despite the overwhelming need to claim you.
He can't be the one to sully you. "Ain' much left'a this world that's as sweet n' pure as you."
Your core quivers as his dusky, throbbing crown glides along your glistening seam. He tentatively explores uncharted areas, brows furrowed with concentration, fighting with inner demons who want to claim, corrupt, and mold you for only his touch.
His name leaves your lips with a mess of desperate, frustrated moans, "Please, Joel."
He snaps out of his haze. He's done almost everything he can to keep you safe and protected in this new way of life. He'll be damned if he doesn't grant you anything you ask for.
"S'hurtin' somethin' fierce, huh?" He grunts, angling his hips until his cock lines up with your fluttering hole. "Bet she needs somethin' big'er than fingers to ease 'er throbbin'."
His cock catches on your opening, forcing a hiss through his clenched teeth. As tight as you are, he can't stop from pushing into your warmth. He blocks out any sense of reasoning that's shouting from the back of his mind as he slowly nudges his cock into your weeping, inviting hole.
Joel goes brain-dumb momentarily, watching in immoral awe as your core ever so slowly swallows his fat tip and breaches your quivering hole, forcing a raspy whine from your throat.
So warm, safe, and wet.
Joel's never felt anything like you. He wants to bury himself, slide his cock as deep as he can, claim every inch, endlessly fill you with his cum, and keep you only for him.
You frantically reach for him, hands clutching the air as he rubs a callous thumb over your clit while keeping a steady hold on the base of his cock.
"S'all she's gonna get," he states, returning to his senses and hissing when your cunt tightens. "S'just the tip."
A soft begging whine bubbles from your lips as you extend your arms, needing something solid to hold before latching onto his wrists.
Your hips move on their own, desperate to feel his length completely shunted in your velvet warmth, but brute hands envelop your hips and pin them to the bed.
He shakes his head, salt and pepper curls fraying across his forehead. "Don' be greedy now." He tuts, narrowing his gaze down at you.
A garbled mess of nonsense tumbles from your lips as your fingernails dig into his muscular, hairy forearms.
"I know. S'big, huh?" He lands a solemn thumb on your clit, rubbing tender circles around the tiny bud. "Stay wit' me, sweet girl. Wanna feel you come on my cock."
Your mind spins. It's all too much, and yet, not enough. Your head tosses from side to side, and you're frantic to survive, breathing hard and fast, waiting for the drop to come and, at the same time, never wanting it to come.
"Don't I deserve it? Keepin' you safe all this time." Joel muses, stroking his cock in time with his teasing thumb. His eyes never leave where he's splitting you open. He's barely penetrating you, but it's enough to know if he had, you'd be struggling to take him.
"Come on, Sweetheart. Let go f'me," he urges, his touch growing faster. Severe, tightly drawn circles tease you closer to the edge.
Your stomach flips. A heaviness settles in your throat, your heart lodging in the tight confines, your blood pumping faster and faster. A lithe whine slithers free, escaping into the dimly lit room and burrows into Joel's mind.
His jaw clenches, and a dark growl rumbles from his chest, "Thatta' girl. Make'a fuckin' mess'a me."
Your dripping hole quivers and throbs around his swollen tip as you come with a silent scream, body locking taut, trying its best to engulf his length entirely.
Joel curses, jerking his length with long, steady tugs and rubbing his weeping, cream-covered tip around your soaked folds before his spine goes straight, and he yanks his cock from your core, curling in on himself and spilling his seed all over your belly with a deep, gravelly moan.
You sag into his sheets, spent with a shiny thin layer of dew and white ropes of spend painted across your abdomen.
"Shit." Joel curses, breathing heavily as he holds himself by his hands, which press into the mattress by your head, keeping you locked beneath him.
You hold his studious gaze. His dark eyes ruminate, tinged with mood, as his gaze drills down into your very core, threatening to demolish your soul. You resign that this was nothing special. Just another night you won't talk about again.
Joel eases off of you with a grunt, his bones aching from the tension despite the brief, pleasurable relief, and tucks his cock back away into his sweatpants. He shuffles to the bathroom momentarily before returning with a damp washcloth.
He wipes the cloth over your belly and between your thighs, cleaning the combined arousal from your skin before chucking the rag into the hamper with a sigh.
"I know," you mutter, grimacing as you roll onto your side and sit up, tugging your shirt down. "I won't mention it again."
A solid, warm hand on your shoulder stops your retreat. "Stay," Joel whispers with soft, yearning eyes. "I wan' you to stay, sweet girl."
feel free to scream at me -> 💌
reblogs & comments are extremely appreciated! follow @ozzieslibrary for new fic updates!
6K notes
·
View notes
Text
ughhh joel miller is definitely the type to let you use him while ur chasing ur own high “go ahead, baby, take what you need” “its all yours, use it, honey” FUUCCCK
707 notes
·
View notes
Text
— Do you trust me?
[ID in ALT]
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
when are we going to discuss how sexy javier peña is please? it’s literally oozing out of that dude. the thick black hair, criminally beautiful brown eyes, curved nose, sultry porno moustache above his plump lips? the shoulder to waist ratio? that cigarette just dangling out of his mouth? gun in his waistband? the condoms that i know live in his wallet? the sweat dewing along his collarbones? those tight little shirts around his biceps? that smooth chest? that bulge in those fucking jeans with no panties? hello? can y’all hear me? is this thing on?
903 notes
·
View notes
Text
THE LAST OF US S01E01 - When You’re Lost in the Darkness
1K notes
·
View notes
Photo
JAVIER PEÑA in every episode of NARCOS ↺ S01E02 / THE SWORD OF SIMÓN BOLIVAR
1K notes
·
View notes