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omgreally · 2 years ago

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Hot Coffee ☕️ / Joel Miller/F!Reader / 1.5k-2k ish / E18+ MINORS DNI

Warnings: This escalated quickly. Angst; Banter; Sexual tension that is most definitely resolved; Consenting adults getting carried away; unprotected sex; smut, little bit of a breeding kink if you squint.

Summary: When is a coffee date not a coffee date? When it’s with Joel Miller, of course. It’s about time both of you got the hint.

—

Joel tries not to think about creature comforts much. The world ended so suddenly that most of them became a thing of the past in a single afternoon. By the time the next day dawned, he forgot about things like Sunday mornings and coffee and watching TV and playing board games; all that mattered was survival.

He often wondered why he bothered. There didn’t seem to be much to live for, after - after Sarah. Tommy kept him going a while, and sheer spite after that; anger at the whole world, anger that manifested itself through the impact of his fists or from the barrel of his gun. Bloody knuckles and the metallic tang of of gunpowder and copper the only taste left in the back of his throat. Things like coffee and pancakes? A thing of the past. Forgotten.

Tess cooled him down some, reminded him of something other than emptiness, but the space between her and Ellie coming along was too narrow, the grief too fresh, so he locked it away. He was pretty sure he’d never be close to someone like that ever again.

It was inevitable, though. Humans always sought out companionship; it was pack instinct more than anything else. At least, that’s what Joel tells himself as you sit across from him, drinking coffee.

He tells himself he isn’t getting comfortable or complacent, because if he let himself think that, then he’d start to think he doesn’t deserve it, and he knows where a thought like that ends. But he can taste something other than blood now, and he’s not sure why, but that scares him - more than his anger does.

Joel lets the silence stretch between you, and you seem comfortable with it. He imagines a time years ago when this would be a date. Now it’s just two humans sharing a space and a time where they don’t have to fight to survive. When he stops to think about it, he realises it feels…nice.

So nice he almost didn’t want to let you in when you came to his door, but you had a bag of coffee beans- real coffee beans - you pilfered on a patrol and you were offering to share them with him, no one else, him - and he’s not sure if it’s because he was the only person you knew who owned a coffee grinder in Jackson or not.

Joel’s not sure he can handle the implications otherwise.

“Finished already?” You raise a brow as he drains his chipped mug and sets it down on the table between you. “Jesus, Miller. You’re gonna be bouncing off the walls for hours. That shit’s Colombian.”

“Thirty-year-old Arabica beans,” he corrects, pointing a finger at you, making you smile. Making you smile is always easier than it should be. Easier with him than with others, he’s noticed. It worries him. “Probably full of more E. coli than caffeine.”

“You fail high school chemistry too?” You tease him often, because the man takes himself too damn seriously. Joel hates that he likes it, and he hates that you can tell.

“Okay, it’s oxidised,” he drawls, “It tastes like shit but it won’t kill me. Happy?”

“Only when you’re miserable,” you say brightly. He scoffs and shakes his head, and the quiet builds between you, its presence suddenly large and uncomfortable in the absence of more coffee. You sigh, and give up. “Ah, never mind. I should get going. Sorry the coffee was shit.”

You stand up and move towards the door. Joel catches your wrist, and you pause. Look down at the man. More greys than when you first met him, but his cheeks aren’t as hollow. Jackson suited him, even though he makes any excuse not to settle down.

Ellie’s happy here, so he doesn’t have a choice.

“Thanks,” Joel says, making eye contact. Your turn to look away. Too serious. “I haven’t had fresh-ground coffee in…” he pauses to think, going back. Too far back. “Ages,” he finishes. His fingers are still on your wrist.

“Well, you were the first person I thought of when I found it. Haven’t had a good supply run like that in ages. But it wasn’t fresh. I think you said something about E. coli?”

“Sorry. You know I-“ He fights for the words when you take his hand. You’ve never done that before. Flirted with him, sure, but you’ve never touched him unsolicited like this. You’ve got more boundaries, more walls up than he does sometimes.

“You remember coffee dates?” You smile at his frown. “You know, some asshole buys you a coffee, expects you to sleep with him after. Happened all the time to the girls I worked with at the bar, back before the world ended. Never to me though. So one day, I brought an asshole a cup of coffee. Know what happened?”

Joel shakes his head, mute. He’s stroking your wrist with his thumb, turned his body towards you. You could just sit right on his knee if you wanted. You could lean down and kiss him.

“We sat and drank coffee for twenty minutes and neither of us said a word.”

Joel lets you go like you’ve bitten him. He wonders if he’s blown it, and he’s surprised to find out he really hopes he hasn’t. You put up a lot but he’s always known it was inevitable he would ruin any chance at friendship - or more - with you by pushing you away. He’s been doing it for weeks, months even, ignoring your hints, responding with taciturn silence, expecting you to figure out it was habit drilled into him by years of only his own loneliness and anger for company.

“I’m sorry,” Joel says, not meeting your eyes. You touch his shoulder and then he looks up.

“Don’t be. Best coffee date I’ve had in ages.”

He tastes like bitter, burnt beans when you kiss him, and you imagine you don’t taste much better. But Joel reacts as if he’s drowning and you’re his only source of air - rising to his feet, his hands on your waist - he kisses you back like he never forgot how.

He didn’t know how much he wanted you until you were about to walk away.

Joel prays to god Ellie’s still out with that girl she likes because if she walked into their house right now she would see her surrogate father figure with his tongue down your throat and his hands in your pants. Your thoughts go down a similar road as you fumble with his belt.

There’s no need for words or what-ifs between you; you don’t need to say anything because you both know it doesn’t matter. All that matters is now, the press of Joel’s mouth and tongue, the solid promise of his body.

Joel touches you at first as if he can’t believe you’re real, that this is happening. But he’s quick to grow bold, hands kneading at your breast, fingers pinching at the peak of your nipple when he finds out it you like it - rewarding him with a gasp. Joel grins that cheeky fucking grin you see on him sometimes, when he thinks you aren’t looking, and suddenly all that matters is the stubborn zipper of his fly, the buttons of your shirt, and your sneakers which you just can’t seem to kick off fast enough before either of you stop to think that this might not be the best idea after all.

Joel can’t remember the last time he had a good idea, but this doesn’t feel like a bad one. Not with the heat of your mouth at his throat, the firm, pliable curves of your body pressed against him. He knew you weren’t the shy type but he almost chokes when you palm the outline of his stiffening dick before you even get his zipper all the way down.

It’s like a spell the two of you are too reluctant to break by speaking. There’s just the combined sound of your breathing, the press of your mouths, the intoxicating buzz of caffeine mixed with arousal so painfully strong it’s like a cramp. You need to fuck Joel right now as much as you need to breathe. He seems to feel the same, if how hard he is is anything to go by.

When you finally free his cock the animal part of Joel’s brain starts snarling and clawing at the walls. He grabs a fistful of your hair and spins you around, bending you forward over the table. You manage to kick one of your sneakers off, your jeans hanging off one leg - he doesn’t even pull your panties down, just drags the soaked fabric aside to make room for him.

Everything up til now has been frenzied. Coffee cups and clothes all over the floor. But when he pushes into you, time slows; and for a moment there’s no apocalypse outside Jackson. There’s just the feeling of Joel feeding your pussy every inch of his cock, slow but steady, as if he already knows you can take it. And you can, and you do, holding your breath as your entire focus narrows to the delicious ache between your legs as Joel stretches you open.

Then you feel his warm, wide palm on your back, long fingers stroking almost soothingly down your spine. He doesn’t speak but you can almost hear the dark molasses of his Texas drawl, lifting the hairs on your neck - Relax. Breathe. So you do, and Joel rewards you by pulling out slow - and thrusting in again quicker, finding a new angle that has the blunt head of his dick striking some nerve inside you that has you seeing stars, and then he does it again. And again.

You want to sob his name and drag claw marks into the table but you just hold onto the edge of it and arch your back, closing your eyes. You haven’t been fucked like this in years - maybe ever - and it feels right that it’s now, that it’s Joel Miller.

Thank God for coffee dates.

Joel’s thighs slap into the back of yours, the table jumping beneath you. You can hear him panting like distant thunder. When your legs start to shake beneath you, he loops an arm around your hips and finds your clit in seconds with two fingertips, as instinctive as pulling a trigger. You know you’re not going to last much longer, and he seems intent on it.

You moan his name then - without meaning to, without your permission - and Joel’s pace stutters. He starts grinding into you, barely pulling out before surging back in again, almost lifting your feet from the floor. You’re so wet you can hear it with each impact but you don’t give a fuck and Joel loves it; the reaction of your body only spurring him on.

All too quickly, you’re quivering on a knife’s edge, straining towards it, and you let go of a sob when you come, and the sudden fluttering, wet clench of your cunt around his cock finally does Joel in.

He knows he shouldn’t but he just needs to be inside you, deep enough to bruise, to replace the taste of coffee with the taste of him in the back of your throat - an instinct he just can’t hold back. He snaps his hips forward one last time, the slick wet heat of you welcoming him home, and his vision goes white as his cock pulses rhythmically inside you, filling you with his come.

You twitch and shiver through it, moaning weakly, encouragingly. You push back against him with the grip of your toes on the floor, murmuring wordless little sounds in time with the aftershocks.

Joel’s knees feel weak when awareness finally returns. He leans over you, breathing hard as if he’s just been running from a pack of Clickers, pressing his forehead against the back of your neck.

You know you should be pissed that Joel Miller just fucking came in you, but, well, you let him - and you liked it. A lot. You wanted him to. In fact, the predominant feeling you have now is one of satisfaction. In more ways than one.

You reach back on instinct to touch his face, as if to reassure yourself he’s still there. Joel flinches - but then you feel his beard, his lips against your fingers, your neck, your temple.

Yeah. He wanted this too. Maybe even needed it, too, as much as he needed the coffee.

“Definitely the best coffee date I’ve ever had,” you croak when you can speak again. And you think you can feel Joel smiling against your neck.

#joel miller smut #joel miller oneshot #joel miller x reader #joel miller/you #joel miller/reader #last of us hbo #joel miller x you #joel miller/f!reader #omgreally; joel miller/reader

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xanadufoyerwaterwheeljr · 1 year ago

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BTW my roman empire is the last of part 2 specifically the relationship between both the main girls and revenge plots and how The Last Of Us does such an insane job showing real people and how fucked up people do fucked up things. My roman empire is Abby.

I think about her every day. I think about how she was willing to let Ellie go every time. Because Abby got what she needed to try and heal and had Lev to take care of. But in doing so took the only thing Ellie had. In Ellies. Mind. But ellie had her whole family *that wasn't even hers really? Like dina and the baby wasn't even hers but Dina chose Ellie to be her family and Ellie threw that away*

Abby is such a good and interesting complex character that people hate because she Killed a man who KILLED SO MANY FUCKING PEOPLE !!!! And possibly is the reason there is no cure for humanity. But Ellie (and like every other person who played last of us) saw Joel as a hero and was the /only/ person there for her. But that's so fucked up for her to leave everyone she was faithful to to go and hunt Abby down. At the beginning I was with Ellie going after Abby but once they both go through so much in this already complicated screwed up world I don't understand how that didn't weigh on Ellie enough to make her calm down. She's also a very interesting character in how strong she is in her will to do whatever it takes to finish this off. But killing Abby wouldn't even do anything and would probably fuck her up even more? I dont but I think I could write an essay about them and still never get it out of my system.

Also I finally watched the last episode of the hbo last of us and let me just say I think the creator of the show UNDERSTANDS the point of making Joel look like the bad guy even more so than the game. When you're playing as Joel you want to save Ellie. I wanted to save Ellie. But watching Joel take down that whole hospital and kill the dr barely even looking at him was INSANE. the show made it so clear that Joel is not in the right lying to Ellie. He knows what he did was wrong. I was in AWE and so excited to see those complex character choices played out in the next season I think its going to be wild.

My last point is that I love Bella Ramsey they're perfect hes my son and I want great things for him.

#last of us hbo #the last of us #last of us 2 #last of us Abby #joel and ellie #ellie tlou #abby anderson #abby tlou #roman empire

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