#truck driver!joel
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This is a bit weird but hear me out. Truck driver Joel. Having to sleep in cheap motels and inside his truck. Picks up sweet, pretty hitchhiker reader, who ends up travelling the country with him and fucking in his truck, those cheap old motels, and in the middle of nowhere.
Giving joel handjobs and blowjobs while driving and joel fingering her while driving...
🫠🫠🫠
Trucker Joel. . . I love it. Sexy and fun.
A/N: Feel free to add HCs or write him. @tashibum sent the middle pic one time and I love the vibe. 💛
Fics - tag me if you write one and I'll add here
Overloaded by @katiexpunk
HCs
On the first day, you're riding in silence, and he keeps looking over, checking you out. To make conversation, you ask him about his load. His neck gets pink, and he clears his throat. "my, uh--" before telling you what's in the trailer.
You get a kick out of him being flustered so later you ask him what he's gonna do with his load. When he's flustered, he adjusts his net hat (his curls stick out under it).
He's proud of his truck. It's humble but he takes good care of it. He's made the cab cozy, but you can tell he did it himself, there isn't much of an eye for design. There's definitely only one bed.
You're fixing the fitted sheet on the bed in his cab and there's a bottle of lube under the corner of the mattress.
He has a TV screen set up near the bed and offers you can stream something but it accidentally opens to porn.
The first time you stop at a motel, he takes a shower, slicks back his hair, and puts on a nice t shirt and belt, and even foregoes the hat. He takes you to eat at a diner.
He doesn't like belts though. Before the motel room door is even shut behind you, he takes his belt off with one hand in one swift motion. He does a double take at your face and can't help but smile to himself at the effect it has on you.
When you're sucking him off and he's about to cum too early, he's like "whoa, back it up now, darlin'."
Maybe he calls you bambi cause he almost hit you like a deer before picking you up.
You might have to cockwarm him in the driver's seat sometime.
He gives you back-to-back cream pies, admires the mess, and says "damn near got you bundled out" (loaded to max capacity).
feel free to add or write
#joel miller x reader#trucker!joel#joel miller HCs#if anyone wants to add or write it go for it#great way to get serial killed but that's how we roll#toxicanonymity ☠️#joel miller smut#truck driver!joel#trucker!joel miller
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⎯⎯ ︎pennyold masterlist ! content: older relationships, fluff, smut, step!cest, and suggestive content.
Drew Starkey
Truck-driver!drew au: ☆ Rafe Cameron: ✦ Others: ☾︎
— fics:
truck driver | smut ☆
warm bath | smut ︎ ☾︎
— moodboard:
introduction ☆
— blurbs: coming soon...
Bradley Cooper
Phil Wenneck
— fics:
sleepover | smut
— moodboard:
introduction
— blurbs: coming soon...
Peter Facinelli
Carlisle Cullen
— fics:
our little secret | smut
— moodboard: coming soon…
—blurbs:
Carlisle taking readers virginity
Robert Pattinson
Preston Teagardin
— fics:
naughty girl | smut
— moodboard: coming soon…
— blurbs: coming soon…
Pedro pascal
Joel Miller: ✧ Javier Peña: ☁︎
— fics:
car wash | smut ✧
— moodboard: coming soon…
— blurbs: coming soon…
Billy Burke
Charlie Swan
— fics: coming soon...
— moodboard: coming soon…
— blurbs: coming soon…
divider: @/enchanthings-a and @/aquazero
taglist: @mattybsgroupie
If you want to be tagged in any of the fics, blurbs and moodboards, leave your comment down below this post !
#oldermen#vintage#pennyold#drew starkey#drew starkey x reader#drew starkey x you#rafe cameron x female reader#rafe cameron#drew starkey smut#drew starkey blurb#truck driver!drew#bradley cooper#bradley copper x you#phil wenneck#phil wenneck x you#phil wenneck x reader#masterlist#smut#fluff#charlie swan#charlie swan x reader#pedro x reader#pedro pascal#pedrohub#pedro pascal smut#pedro pascal x reader#joel miller x reader#joel miller#joel tlou#joel the last of us
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Ain't Right
Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader
Summary: You have a major (borderline obsessive) crush on Joel, and you're on a mission to fuck him.
Warnings: 18+ SMUT MDNI, age gap (56/20), swearing, fingering (fem!receiving), p in v, unprotected sex, size kink, cum eating, name calling, kinda mean Joel, alcohol, vomiting, an extremely brief mention of suicide
Disclaimer: I lowkey don't know the logistics of the show so if some things are wrong please look over it I'm just trying to write smut about Joel Miller godbless.
Ain't Right part 2
Ever since that tortured old man showed up in Jackson, your life hasn't been the same.
Tommy's older brother, and your absolute undoing.
When Joel Miller rode into town, it was like everything suddenly made sense. The skies got clearer, the air smelled better, and the birds even chirped their love songs louder.
Everything about him drew you in; his cold demeanor, stoic face, tired eyes—but gentle around those he cared about, which was only a few select people.
And you certainly were not one of those select people.
Joel didn't know what to think about you.
To him, you were odd. Yes, you were undoubtedly the most beautiful girl in Jackson, but he felt distance between the two of you was essential.
He felt this way because he knew.
Joel wasn't oblivious to your stares; he might've been an old man, but he remembered the laws of attraction fairly well.
He didn't like the thought of you liking him.
You were young, attractive, and had plenty of age-appropriate prospects just begging for your attention. Every boy in Jackson wanted a piece of you—but you only had eyes for Joel.
He was getting old and tired, ain't no reason why you should be so fond over him.
He also didn't like that you made your attraction so obvious. It made people whisper, and Joel about had enough teasing from Tommy.
"You gonna let that young thing jump your bones or what, Joel?" Is an example of the few things his brother would chirp at him whenever you were around and had eyes on him like he was a target.
So, all things considered, it's no surprise when Joel is reluctant to make a supply run with you.
You had begged Tommy to let you go out and finally start pulling your weight, carefully adding that Joel would be a great teacher for a first timer like yourself.
You stand near the truck, squeezing the straps of your backpack while watching Joel and Tommy whisper to themselves a couple feet away.
"You can't find anyone else?" Joel growls lowly, narrowing his eyes at his insufferable brother who he’d really like to strangle right now.
"Are you seriously scared of a twenty year old girl, Joel?" Tommy asked exasperatedly, throwing his arm out in disbelief. "It'll take two hours tops, what the hell are you so scared of?" Joel is exhaling through his nose, dragging a hand down his jaw in complete disgruntlement.
"You know what the hell I'm scared of Tommy—goddammit," He gets in his brother’s face before realizing you’re still watching them.
He takes a moment to back up and calm down, breathing out through his nose.
"I do not need this town thinkin' I am encouraging this girls...feelin's." He murmurs lowly.
Tommy rolls his eyes before shoving Joel's backpack into his chest.
"Just don't fuck her, Joel. How hard could it be?"
Joel watches as Tommy turns his back and walks away, leaving just you and him.
Joel had spent a lot of time making sure he was never in a situation alone with you—now he was about to be your unsupervised mentor.
He feels a groan try and crawl its way out his throat, but he pushes it down.
He starts walking to the truck, not even looking at you as he passes and yanks the driver side door open with more force than necessary.
"Let's make this quick." He grunts out, climbing inside.
You do the same, only with a little bit more enthusiasm. ***
The trip is a complete bust.
Joel barely paid you any attention, no matter how many flirty gestures you made at him.
You'd say something remotely suggestive and he'd either glare at you, or just flat out ignore you.
But you were relentless. Giving up on him wasn't in the cards for you, no matter how many judgmental looks he casted your way.
You guys had been driving back to town for around five minutes; Joel has kept his eyes firmly on the road in fear of you sparking a conversation with him.
But you do anyways.
You turn your body to face him in the bench seat, your eyes cascading down his breath-taking side profile.
You zoned in on the gray patches of his beard, and how his face had the remnants of a long, unforgiving life weaved into his wrinkles and scars.
You're momentarily rendered speechless by his looks before he side-eyes you.
"What?" He huffs out, not being able to handle your intense stare any longer.
"Why not?"
A beat.
"What?" He asks again, his brows furrowing together, an annoyed and confused expression painting his features.
"Why won't you fuck me?"
Joel physically winces at your language, scoffing in what looks to be disgust as he starts shaking his head.
"We're not starting this." He snaps firmly, a tone in his voice that you haven't heard before.
Completely disregarding his words, you start.
"Is it because I'm not pretty enough?" Joel groans out, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. "Is it because there's someone else?" He's close to snapping. "Is it because you can't get it up? I heard thats a problem with guys your age-"
Joel slams on the brakes, sending you lurching forward. He shoves the truck into park before turning to face you, a scary look on his face.
"I am not going to fuck you--Christ almighty," Joel raises his voice at you.
You're staring at him, wide eyes and lips parted in surprise. You weren't really expecting this.
"you're bustin' my fuckin' balls, Look kid," He starts up again, this time with a softer tone. "M'about 40 years too old for you-"
You cut him off with a murmur. "36, I did the math."
"Same damn thing," he snaps, shaking his head. "Point is—you don't needa be wastin' your time with me; there are plenty boys your age that will satisfy your...you."
You scoff in his face but try to disguise it by clearing your throat.
"I'm not asking you to marry me, Joel," You start, a sad smile spreading across your lips. "S'just sex." You say with a shrug, blush coating your cheeks because now your mind is imagining sex with him.
He stays silent and looks away from you, closing his eyes like he couldn’t believe this was happening.
That urges you to say more.
"I won't tell anyone," You're practically whispering, looking down at your fidgeting hands in your lap. "I'd let you do anything you wanted to me."
Joel's heart cinches in his chest at your words, mostly because he can tell you're being so genuine.
Why the hell did you like him so much? He just couldn’t understand it.
But he can't entertain this any longer because he knows if he did, he'd give into you.
"I don't wanna hear another goddamn word outta your mouth." Joel says in a strikingly even and calm tone, putting the truck into drive and continuing back.
He's eerily silent, and so is the rest of the trip because you're too dejected to speak.
Eventually, you both arrive home and you're fast to get out of the truck.
You slam the door and keep your head down as you walk away, snow crunching beneath your boots.
Joel takes his time, watching you storm off with tired eyes.
He feels bad for being so rough on you, but he figured it was the only way to get you to stop liking him.
Tommy walks up, a concerned look on his face as he looks back between you and Joel.
"Guessin' you didn't fuck her."
***
Nobody had seen you in days.
The pain of rejection had you in a mental place that you had never experienced before.
No one has ever denied you—ever.
The situation was 100x worse considering you actually liked Joel, and he wasn't just another toy to play with.
Joel figured his life would get easier with you not around, and it kinda did in some aspects.
But he couldn't stop the gnawing feeling of guilt slowly eating at him like a parasite.
He'd been cruel to you in the way he went about things, and he felt bad.
Had he really broken your heart? He didn't know you liked him that much.
He sits in his living room, contemplating how to go about this entirely fucked up situation.
He debates making amends with you, apologizing and rejecting you again but in a gentler way.
He deliberates on his plan of action while nursing a glass of whiskey before he's interrupted by three bangs on his front door, followed by a screeching: "JOEL"
He mutters a 'what the fuck' under his breath, walking to the door and picking his 9mil up on the way.
His eyes widen when he sees you-standing there in all your glory.
It's the middle of winter and snowing like hell, yet you're wearing shorts and a tank top with a beer bottle in your hand.
"Jesus, kid-what the fuck," Joel ushers you inside quickly, taking his big jacket off the coatrack and draping it over you.
He also tosses his gun to the side, obviously you were no threat.
"You tryin' to get frostbit? Christ," he's swearing and muttering profanities as he guides you over to the couch, now basically swaddling you in blankets.
You've never been inside his house before, only ever walked passed it a few times. It smells like him.
You, however, smell like alcohol and bad decisions.
Joel picked up on how drunk you were the minute you stumbled through the door. He takes the bottle from your hand and sets it aside somewhere, glaring at you like how a mad parent would.
"The hell are you doin' out in the snow like that? Fuckin' death wish or somethin'?"
His words are kinda fuzzy in your ears, you're so drunk that you barely even register them.
An unprompted giggle spills from your lips as you shake your head at him.
"It's not snowing silly," You chide, making him out to be an idiot when, in actuality, it's a damn blizzard outside.
He knows from that statement alone that you are way off your rocker tonight.
"How much have ya had to drink, kid?" Joel asks, raking a hand through his graying hair.
"Don't call me kid," You snap, a quick flash of anger in your expression. "M'not a kid."
Joel rolls his eyes so hard that he probably caused a tsunami on the other side of the world.
“Yeah yeah, whatever. What are you doin’ here?” He asks exasperatedly, dragging a hand down his jaw while looking at your trembling figure.
There’s a long pause before you answer. You just got distracted by his big brown eyes.
“Jus’ wanted to say hi.” You murmur, unable to tear your gaze away from his face.
“Say hi?” He reiterates, looking at you like you’ve actually lost your mind.
You probably have.
After a moment, Joel can’t help but chuckle in disbelief, letting his body lean back against the couch.
The absurdity of it all turned humorous to him.
Here you are, sitting in his living room, practically nude with only his coat and blankets protecting your modesty, having just trekked through the snow all for what? To say hey?
You’re still sitting there, motionless and trying to remember how to breathe because his laughing face has your heart lighting off fireworks.
“Fuckin’ hell—hi.” Is all he says, turning his head to the side to look at you as he crosses his arms over his chest.
You smile like a dope at him, so extremely happy to be there in his company.
But the alcohol in your system is fighting you, and you’re finding it hard to keep your eyes open.
“S’it cool if I say the nigh?” You slur, falling vertically on the couch, your head crashing onto Joel’s thigh.
You nuzzle your cheek against the fabric of his jeans and Joel is just about to gently push you off, but he stops himself.
You look so comfortable and so at peace that Joel can’t do anything except stare at you.
Your cheek is slightly smushed, your lips are parted, your eyes are shut and don’t plan on opening—it’s insane to him how at home you looked.
Like you belonged here, head rested on his lap.
Fuck.
He was fucked this time.
He doesn’t move you. Instead, he fixes the blankets on top of you so you’re fully covered, and sits there with you the entire night.
He’s really gone soft.
***
When morning comes, you’re first to wake up, accompanied by a splitting headache.
You don’t even notice how Joel’s hand had fallen onto your waist some time during the night because you’re too busy making a b-line for the bathroom.
You chuck your guts up into the toliet, clutching the porcelain and groaning out in pain.
Joel wakes up to the sound of your hurling, momentarily disoriented before he remembers last nights events.
He’s quick to come to your aid in the bathroom, wasting no time gathering your hair in his fist to get it out of your face.
"S'right, get it all out," He murmurs out encouragingly, seemingly unfazed by the disheveled sight of you.
You’re too sick to be embarrassed, that’ll come later surely.
He sits on the wall of the tub as he continues holding your hair back, yawning every now and then like this was just a regular Tuesday morning.
Eventually, by the mercy of God, you get it all out of your system and slump up against the wall.
“M’sorry,” You immediately apologize, figuring that is the only right move in this situation.
“Don’t be. Been through plenty'a that in my day.”
His words are uncharacteristically reassuring and you find yourself taken back by them.
You soon realize this is probably just the hazy morning Joel, the Joel where he isn't worried about anything except coffee and breakfast—like everything wrong in his life is put on the back burner for this short minute in time.
“I’ll get you some water and Advil, sit tight.” He grunts before standing up on his feet, knees popping as he walks out.
You watch as he leaves, wiping the corners of your mouth with the back of your hand.
Aside from the vomit part, you could get used to this.
You've never seen him so...domestic. His hair was all messy, his voice was raspy, he had that morning haze over his features that you felt so honored to witness.
You suddenly felt compelled to look at your own appearance, hopping to your feet and looking in the dirty mirror.
You resist the urge to audibly gasp at your reflection, opting for a disgusted look instead.
Your hair is a rats nest, your clothes are a mess, and your mascara has rubbed off in black smudge all over the skin around your eyes.
In a desperate attempt to look at least semi-presentable, you wash your face with water and comb through your hair with your fingers.
The idea that Joel had seen you looking like that was making your stomach churn again.
Before you can grovel about it any longer, he rounds the corner with a glass of water and little brown pills in his hand.
“Here,” He says softly, handing you the water and tilting the pills into your open palm. “Take these ‘n drink all that water and ya should get to feelin’ better.”
You do as he says, swallowing the Advil in one go before taking a big sip to wash it down.
His eyes drift down to your shoulder, where your tank top strap has fallen. No doubt from all that vigorous throwing up you were doing moments ago.
Without thinking, his fingers graze your forearm before bringing the strap back up to its correct position, clearing his throat in the process.
A beat of silence falls over the both of you.
You’re gobsmacked by the complete nonchalance of his touch, staring at him with your mouth slightly open in shock.
“What?” He asks defensively, his tone pointed.
You look between him and your shoulder strap, then slowly move to set your water down.
“Are you sure we can’t fuck?”
“Goddammit—” Joels cursing before you can even finish saying the last word in your sentence.
He turns away from you, probably the fastest you’ve seen anyone turn in their life, and walks towards his room with an accelerating pace.
He shakes his head in disbelief all the way down the hall, pivoting on his heel to duck into his bedroom.
You follow him, not really fazed by how he completely refused to answer your question, though you didn’t think he would anyway.
Before you can step foot into the threshold of his room, Joel walks out, causing you to back up.
He shoves a stack of clothes in your direction, looking down at you with a frustrated face. “Put these clothes on and go home.”
You look down, realizing he was letting you borrow a sweater and jeans of his so you didn’t die walking back to your house from the cold.
Your heart warms at this thoughtfulness.
Without wasting any time, you take the clothes from his hands, smiling happily. “Can I keep them?”
“Why the hell would you wanna keep my clothes?” He’s got that confused/angry look on his face as he asks, and you have to suppress a giggle at the sight of it.
You bring the pieces of fabric up to your nose and inhale, humming as you breathe out again. “They smell like you.”
“Christ,” Joel beings his hands up to rub at his eyes. “Fine, do whatever. Just hurry up and change, jesus,"
Ever the tease, you set down his clothes and begin to lift your tank top like you planned to change right in front of him.
Joel's hands shoot out to stop you, a 'don't try me,' look on his face.
"Put them on over your clothes," Joel says sternly, watching the way you sigh because you weren't fast enough in lifting your tank top off.
However, you sieze the opportunity in front of you.
Joel's hands are holding yours down, so you work to intertwine your fingers, invading his space by stepping forward.
"Or, you could take my clothes off," You purr, your chest now flush with his torso.
Joel exhales through his nose, his jaw clenching as he tried deciding how he was going to get out of this situation.
But then he paused.
Looking down at you now, so eager and wide eyed, made him wonder.
If he fucked you, and made you realize it wasn't what you were probably imagining in your head, maybe then you'd finally leave him alone.
He would just...pretend to be awful at sex.
(Even though it had been so long and he wasn't sure if he'd actually need to 'pretend' anymore.)
There's a long silence that drags out between the both of you.
Your stomach is doing flips because it's looking like he's finally going to agree.
His resolve cracks and Joel can't do anything but sigh in defeat.
Slowly, Joel pulls you back into his room, closing the door behind you both.
Time is moving in slow motion.
You can't believe it's finally happening.
He guides you back until the back of your knees hit his bed, prompting you to sit down on it.
"I'm only going to do this once," Joel's voice is uncharacteristically low and calm, and it has your core tightening.
You nod in acknowledgement, waiting to see what he's going to do next.
With care, he pushes your shoulder down so you're laying on your back. "Are you sure you want this?" He asks, brown eyes searching yours.
"Have I not made it obvious?" You quip, a giggle following shortly after.
Joel only shakes his head before his fingers latch around the fabric of your shorts, pulling them down and off your legs.
"S'pose you have." He murmurs, scratching the back of his neck.
You're vibrating with excitement and you repeat what you tried earlier, only this time succeeding with taking your top off.
Of course, you're not wearing a bra.
Joel realizes in that moment that he bit off way more than he could chew.
He hasn't seen breast that weren't on a soggy piece of paper in at least a few years, and yours--well, his cock stood no chance.
You hear him swallow, watching as he can't seem to stop staring at your chest.
Realizing that he might need a little encouragement to start speeding things along, you smile up at him and whisper, "touch me Joel".
Yeah, screw this. His plan of pretending to be bad was now entirely forgotten—he was going to do what he wanted, so help him god.
He huffs out a curse before sliding a hand up your torso, stopping once he's fully cupped one of your breasts in one hand. He kneads it like dough while using his other hand to disappear under your panties.
A choked moan erupts from your lips once you feel his fingers brush along your clit, rubbing around and spreading your slick around all too slowly.
"haven't even done anythin' yet and you're already fuckin' soaked..." He murmurs really to just himself, his eyes casting down to watch as he rips your underwear off impatiently.
"M'always like this whenever you're around," you mewl to spur him on, spreading your legs wider.
"Oh you are, huh?" Joel repeats back, the tiniest bit of cruelty in his tone that makes you shiver.
You nod, bucking your hips into his hand desperately.
"don't get why you like an old man like me, s'gross." His tone is flat but it's clear he's teasing by the way he curls his fingers inside of you. He's not really expecting a response, but you feel compelled.
You lurch forward, gasping at the feeling. "I really like you," You rush out breathlessly. "I'd do anything you wanted me to." You say earnestly as you stare into his eyes, loving what you're seeing.
Joel remembers when you told him that the first time, his heart cinching the same way it did then.
Joel is at war with himself. One side of him is screaming that this whole situation is fucked up and he is better off without you.
Another part of him thinks that this is the most he’s ever felt in a long time. And he doesn't want to lose it.
You can see the gears turning in his head. His fingers have slipped from you and you wince at the loss.
Slowly, you sit up. Your arms wrap around his shoulders, your nipples pressing into his shirt.
He's confused and momentarily panicked when your faces get so close together, his hands seeking purchase on your hips.
In an unexpected move, you rake your hands through the side of his hair, looking lovingly at his face.
"I just wanna be someone for you," You murmur, your face breaking a little as Joel's resolve also cracks. "Doesn't matter what. I'm very versatile." You mumble the last part to try and lighten the mood.
Joel just stares at you—something swimming behind his eyes that you can't quite place.
Eventually, he crashes his forehead against yours, sighing out.
"You're makin' this fuckin' impossible." He rasps before kissing you with a passion you've never felt before.
You feel victorious.
He's finally given in to you.
Eagerly, you kiss back, wrapping your legs around his torso and grinding your bare cunt against the bulge in his jeans.
"Then stop trying so hard to get rid of me," You sigh out, chasing his lips even as you're trying to speak.
He groans and you catch it in your mouth, the pressure on his clothed cock making him dizzy.
“Fuck,” He’s quick to unbuckle his belt, sliding it out of the loops and tossing it somewhere on the floor. “Lay back.” He demands and you immediately follow suit.
He's never been that...assertive with you before. It makes you tingle all over.
He looks starved as he peers down at you, specifically your cunt.
He literally can’t tear his eyes off your sex—he only looks up to your gaze when you let out an impatient whine.
He rips down his pants, letting his cock spring free and slap against his stomach.
Now you can’t tear your eyes away from his sex.
You’ve only dreamt it so many times, but now that it’s finally in front of you—it all just feels surreal.
It’s better than you imagined, perfect.
“I don’t have a—”
You know what he’s about to say so you cut him off immediately. “S’okay, like it raw. Closer to you that way.” You murmur.
Joel looks physically pained that he’s not inside you right now. For some reason, you just know all the right things to say.
“Closer to me?” He huffs out, hooking his arms around your thighs and pulling you down to the edge of the bed where he stood.
Now your cunt is flush with the base of his member and the sensation drives you both insane. “You’re fuckin’ insane.”
Joel rasps, but the way he says it reveals just how far he’s fallen. He knows you’re crazy, and yet here he is, balancing you out.
He glides his member back and forth against your folds, gathering up your wetness with a clenched jaw and furrowed brows.
He looks so concentrated—meanwhile you’re writhing with pleasure and impatience. Your cunt is clenching around nothing, desperate for him.
“So fuckin’ pretty,” he murmurs to himself, eyes tracing all over you.
You freeze.
Joel had complimented you for the first time, and it was genuine.
He notices you stiffen and takes a moment to pause.
Your entire body erupts with goosebumps, your heart beating at exceptionally fast speeds.
He's worried for a second that something is horribly wrong.
“What?” He asks, confused at what’s got you so wound up.
Your face is flushed red as you bashfully giggle. “You called me pretty.”
Ah fuck.
Joel finds you so charming it hurts.
After he remembers how to breathe again, he rolls his eyes and clears his throat.
“I have my cock to your cunt, of course I find you pretty.”
You smile and shrug. “Still. Nice to hear.” You’re all smiles until his tip prods at your entrance, causing a gasp to leave your throat.
He continues to apply pressure with his tip and it’s driving you crazy.
“Fuck Joel—are you trying to kill me?” You whine, hips wiggling to get him in.
He scoffs and shakes his head. “Relax, m’almost there.”
Slowly, he begins pushing his way inside. His mushroom head breaches you entirely and it feels like you can hear the angels singing.
He continues forward, the stretch being mainly around the middle of his thick cock.
But you’re taking it like a champ.
Joel braces himself with hands on both sides of your torso as he bottoms out, a groan crawling its way out of his throat.
The sensation is absolutely delicious.
A little bit of pain from the stretch, but so much pleasure from the fullness.
“Joel, ohmygod you feel so good inside me.” You moan, throwing your head back.
Your hips start moving on their own, but he immediately stops you with two large hands.
“D-Don’t move—fuck.” Joel grumbles out, his face pinched together in what looked like pain.
You’re confused for a moment, thinking maybe that he might just be really into cockwarming.
But then it hits you.
“Were you gonna come?” The tone in your voice makes it seem like you’d be elated if that was the case—like the most flattering thing in the world.
Joel looks pissed that you caught on so quick.
In truth, the moment he put his tip in, he was holding back his orgasm.
Can you blame him? He’s only fucked his hand for the last couple years.
“S’been a while.” Is all he can say, his chest heaving up and down in concentration. You know he’s embarrassed, but you can’t help but smile like a dope at him.
“If you come, please do it inside, please,” you beg, reaching out for his arms that caged you in.
Joel's rational mind feels like it just touched down in looney town after hearing your begging.
He feels crazy because he liked the thought of the idea you proposed. You even see him hesitate. But then he scoffs and shakes his head.
Joel drops down closer to your face, slowly starting to rock his hips into you. "Tryin' to baby trap me, girl?" He grunts in your ear, making you moan out.
Your walls are clenching down on him, and it’s making it that much harder to hold back. “No-no, promise, just wanna be full of you." You manage to blubber out...unconvincingly.
You probably didn't really want a baby with Joel, but your lust-driven brain was working on fumes and you just wanted to do what felt good.
Joel's grunting in your ear was not helping things. His fingers were gripping your hip so hard, you figured it would probably bruise tomorrow
Good. You wanted whatever he would give you.
"Christ--m'not gonna last much longer," Joel groans, picking his head up a little to meet your gaze. He wanted to kick himself for not being able to last, but when he saw your face, all those feelings disappeared.
You looked so--perfect. Soaking up the moment in case it was the last, god you hoped it wasn't the last time. Now that you've finally had a tase of him, you weren't sure you could live without it.
Your legs tighten around his waist, keeping him firmly in your cunt. Joel notices this and also your pleading eyes, a growl leaving his throat.
"Please, please, please, please," you beg, never breaking eye contact with him as his thrusts pick up speed.
He ruins your long string with pleas with a needy kiss, shoving his tongue down your throat like a starving man.
You accept it happily, moaning out into the kiss while Joel manhandles your hips to take his cock.
The feeling is damn near euphoric for both you and him. It gets even better when Joel's hand comes down to rub at your clit again.
Your back arches off the bed as you gasp and moan out, wrapping your arms back around his shoulders. "F-Fuck!" You moan into his ear, probably drooling on his shoulder in the process. "thankyouthankyouthankyou-" you sputter out in choked sobs. He was really good at working on your clit, you couldn't do anything else but thank him for it.
Joel feels a surge of something when he hears you. He's never had a woman thank him in bed before.
It's enough to push him over the edge. And apparently you too.
"I'm gonna come Joel, please don't stop," There are pools of tears in your eyes that Joel is just now noticing. He's about to reply to you, but he finds himself speechless when he feels your cunt start constricting and fluttering around him like a vice.
"Fuck!" He groans out loudly, his hips starting to falter in their rhythm. But then he picks up speed again, and in no time he's like a madman jackhammering into you.
You're a mess of screams and cries and moans underneath him, happily taking everything he was giving you.
When Joel feels himself about to come, he notices how your legs are still tightly wrapped around him, keeping him inside, and he manages to scoff out.
"Gotta let me go baby," You've never heard that pet name from him before, and it makes you crumble. His hands move to grab at your thighs, kneading the flesh there.
You whine out but reluctantly release the grip your legs had on him. Joel doesn't waste time before hugging both your legs on his chest, keeping them firmly placed while your feet squirmed by his ear.
"Atta girl," he murmurs before picking up speed again, his cock head pressing into your cervix.
It's all too much for you. Joel looks so amazing pounding into you from above, his concentrated face, his sweat, the way his salt and pepper hair is all disheveled, you're losing your mind.
Your core is on fire and you can't stop yourself.
In a staggering turn of events, you come first.
Your walls come down like bricks on his dick, you cry out, throwing your head back in complete bliss and ecstasy.
Seeing and feeling this, Joel is quick to follow in your steps. He rips himself from that warm hole of yours and pumps himself dry onto your stomach.
You watch it all with wide eyes, you wouldn't have missed Joel's orgasm face for the world!
Of course, his eyes were squeezed shut, his mouth was open as he was breathing heavily, and his eyebrows turned down like he was mad.
God he was so beautiful.
His thick ropes of cum shoot all over your stomach and even your breasts as he jerks himself off to completion.
When he finishes, he takes a moment to catch his breath, finally opening his eyes to see you scoop up his cum from your breast with your finger and shove it in your mouth.
Your tongue swirls around his seed and you swallow eagerly, humming out in satisfaction at the taste of him.
Joel's watching in complete fascination, though his expression looks a little angry. When does it not?
"taste so good," you mumble with your finger still in your mouth, looking up at him with your big eyes.
He moves before he can think about it--ripping your hand away from your lips and caging you in a slow but deep kiss.
He soon falls down beside you and soon rolls over onto his back, his chest rising and falling from the excursion.
You curl into his side, watching his side profile so intently. You had just fucked Joel Miller.
And it was everything you had dreamed of. Extreme happiness doesn't even begin to describe your feelings right now.
There's a long stretch of silence that drapes over the both of you. Eventually, Joel breaks it with something extremely off topic.
"Last night...you didn't just come here to say 'hi', did you?"
You're momentarily speechless, not expecting that question from him at all. But you can't stop a giggle from coming through your lips.
"Actually, I came to confront you." Your voice is soft as you begin speaking, thinking back to last night's ordeal.
Joel doesn't expect this answer, his head turns to look at you while you speak. His arm comes down to drape over your shoulder.
"I was really upset cus you rejected me n'all. I just couldn't accept the whole, 'age gap' excuse. I wanted to know if you just really didn't like me or not." You're murmuring, drawing soft lines with your finger on the skin of Joel's chest.
He huffs out a breath at the explanation, shaking his head. "Guess you got your answer, huh." He grumbles out, somewhat ashamed of himself that he couldn't hold back.
You smile and lean up to kiss his cheek. "I did," you chirp happily, admiring his face again. "You know you're gonna have to fuck me, like, everyday now, right?"
You're kidding. But you're also not at all.
Joel scoffs and sits up, moving to pick up both his and your shirts. "Fat chance. Barely had enough stamina for one round." He grunts out, finding the neck hole in your tank top and putting it over your head for you.
You don't bother to pull it down over your breasts so Joel does it for you.
"It's okay, we can build up your tolerance over time." You quip with a teasing smile, loving the way Joel turned to glare a you.
He couldn't believe the youth these days.
#joel miller#joel tlou#joel miller smut#joel miller x reader#the last of us hbo#smut#one shot#drabble#tlou fanfiction
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It Always Leads To You
joel miller x younger fem!reader
summary: it's been a year; now you're back. how can joel be so sure of those old summer feelings in your eyes when there's a new hand holding yours?
warnings: 18+ (minors dni), age gap, toxic relationship, cheating and infidelity themes, mutual pinning, kinda dark!joel, smut, p. in v., pussy pronouns, oral (f. receiving), fingering, manhandling, lowkey forced creampie, ANGST, the taylor swift evermore (2020) references go wild, happy ending cause y'all weak asses voted for it and i love to keep my citizens happy!
word count: 5,199 words
side note: my joel miller era is alive and breathing after this tlou re-watch i'm doing my brother swears it's for him but it's mostly me and my fic/womanly reasons, yes we love gaslight girlkeep girlbossing in here gotta say, finding inspiration for this amidst my wattpad duties and christmas movie marathon was harder than i thought lol. was it worth the wait? please like, comment and reblog to let me know! it's based on this request (they're still open btw!)
part: I / II
Holidays linger like bad perfume.
Your eyes wander through the streets: the roads you've got to call home, the ones where you grew up. They're familiar, but so foreign, it's hard to believe they're the same ones where you scrapped your knees at ten and kissed Joel just last winter. It's as if both timelines, your life, feels more like two separate lives, miles apart.
"Hey, you okay?" tender, from the driver's seat; you're still getting used to the soft.
There's a reassuring smile your way, his hand finding yours to give it a squeeze. You notice his palm is the same size as yours. It fits perfectly, but there's a ghost of what it feels like to have it all wrapped up, looming over your itchy palm like all the yearning's a joke.
You nod. "Just tired. That's all"
He sighs. "If I wanted you to lie to me, I would've just asked"
"I'm not lying" you defend yourself as his pickup truck parks on the sidewalk.
He makes a funny face, and you laugh.
"I'm serious, Nick" your lips purse, a thing you do when you lie, yet he still hadn't noticed, like Joel. "Don't worry"
He doesn't look that convinced, so you take off your seat belt and grab his hand.
"C'mon. Mom and dad must be waiting for us"
"Hey" Nick calls you out.
"Yeah?"
"Who lives there?" and he's pointing behind you.
It's his. Joel's house.
"A friend of my dad's" you answer, dryly.
It was last december when you stood there in his porch, begging. It feels like time has stopped ever since, and you're still right where he left you.
"So will he be here?" Nick asks. "You know, since he knows your dad"
"Don't think so" you shrug, "he's got better things to do anyway. Bitter old man" comes out, with more venom than intended.
"Oh! Alright, sorry for asking"
You come back to your senses, realizing you've shared more than you should.
"No, I'm sorry. It's not that important; let's just go inside"
Your mom and dad greet you as soon as you cross the door. Last year, you'd basically fled away before New Year's, with a poor excuse and a broken heart. They both greet you as if nothing happened, although you're sure they remember your tear streamed face coming back from Joel's house, where it all ended.
As your mom corners Nick with kisses and embarrassing questions, your dad whispers to you:
"Joel asked what happened" you quirk and eyebrow, "wanted to know why you left"
"Eh, it's not important" you try to dismiss. "Definitely not as important for a guy like Joel to know"
"What is that supposed to mean?" your dad inquires. You often wonder if they knew.
"Nothing" you laugh nervously. "Listen, why don't you go and meet Nick, yeah? Did you know he likes fishing too?"
The distraction works with your dad; the same can't be said about you.
There's conversation flowing, but through the snow covered window, your eyes keep glancing back to his own. The view is dark, and you ponder if he's fled as well, the town plagued with memories too painful to reminisce.
You can still feel his hands roaming your body, the lust filled gaze that hid warmth. Every time he touches you, you have to remind you he isn't there: that the lips that kiss you, don't taste like his, that the hands that hold you, aren't big as his, and that the face that looks at you like they'll never choose another, is one you haven't learned to love yet.
Joel's memory cuts like thorns: they sink their teeth into your heart, that bleeds with that blood-colored sadness you're all too familiar with. He's poisoned you. But-- isn't it his love also the antidote for this disease he's gave you?
You abruptly stand up, plate half eaten.
"I-I need some air"
It's cold outside, but you don't care. All you want to do is sit on the porch, and drop some tears, something you can do inside too, but the fear of your muffled cries being able to be heard stops you.
You walk towards the stairs, to sit there like you do on summer days, yet there's now a difference: the snow. So you end up slipping, falling with your butt on the floor.
You yelp, embarrased although no one can see you.
"Need help?"
That you're wrong, apparently.
You don't even need to raise your view to know who that voice belongs to: you know it like a record, spinning in circles on your head.
He offers his strong hand your way, and although the cold wind hits your face, you're back to spring on the cabin: wet feet, bright sun and beating heart.
"I can get up myself" you reject his help, pushing the hand out. You keep avoiding his gaze, so you don't see how he's reacted, yet you hope he feels bad about it.
You walk up to the front door, and it takes you a while to realize he hasn't left yet. On top of that, it seems like he's following you. Just what you needed.
"What are you doing here?" you question, but your tone sounds like you're offended.
"Your folks invited me over" Joel answers, "Says they got a special guest"
"Yeah" this time, you do look back, finding him to be much closer than you thought he'd be. Yet you stand tall, defiant even. "It's my boyfriend"
You savour the way his expression falters, before the stoic façade takes over again.
"Boyfriend?" Joel scoffs, as if you just told the funniest joke ever.
"Is that supposed to be funny?" you bite back. "What? Think a pretty girl can't get a new man?"
"Never said I'd doubt'it" he clicks his tongue. "Y'a could get any man you'd want, sugar"
Ironically, the only man you want stands before you.
"Right" you chuckle dryly, "I think it's kind of funny of you to say that"
Joel's eyes bore into yours, a clash of emotions circling in his chocolate orbs.
"Y/n-"
"Don't" you stop him. Then sigh, defeated. "Let's just go inside"
As soon as you both arrive on the dinning room, your parents both greet Joel. Then, they introduce him to their guest, just as promised.
"Joel, this is Nick, y/n's boyfriend" your father speaks. "Nick, this is Joel, a dear old friend of mine"
Nick, as the gentleman he is, offers his hand. Joel accepts, but you can see the barely desguised displease behind his eyes.
"Wow, strong grip" Nick comments before joking, "you can let go now, I'm not going anywhere"
The hidden meaning of his words, whether intentional or not, hit Joel in the face. It's obvious by the way he backtracks, letting go of Nick's hand.
As you sit again, Nick leans to your side and whispers.
"Is this the guy who lives in the house across the street?" you nod. "Thought you'd said he had better plans. But, see? I told you: no plan's more important than coming to your house"
He's always making jokes, trying to make you smile, but it's done the opposite now. The food has gone cold long ago, yet you cut through the meat with a violence so palpable, even your mom tells you to slow down.
The nerve of Joel, showing up to your house like it's nothing, talking to you like he's unaware of his spell on you, acting like Nick is some sort of competition when he pulled out of the race himself a winter ago.
"So, Nick. How did you two meet?" your mom adresses him, eager to know details.
"It was at a party, actually, through mutual friends. Not a very spectacular story, that I know. What's funny is, she asked me what hour it was. And what did I say?"
"He didn't answer my question. Instead, he said: For you, I'm available any hour" you answer.
Your parents laugh, but Joel remains quiet. You wonder what he's thinking.
"You know" looking at Nick while cutting the steamed vegetables a little too agressive, "y/n actually hates parties"
"Joel" you warn through gritted teeth.
"Really? I didn't know that!" Nick seems so genuine, Joel can't help but hate him. He looks at you, concerned "You didn't tell me"
You can't believe he would rat you out like that. The appropiate word isn't hate, and you don't know how to describe it, but parties aren't really your environment; if you can, you'd choose to be anywhere else.
He'll pay for that.
"Joel" you seethe, an ugly smile painted in your features, "did you know Nick knows how to fish?"
It's a direct jab at him. He feels stupid for letting you get to him. The inferiority complex towards some random guy he just met, years younger, is actually laughable.
"I like-" Nick wants to add on that.
"Well" Joel interrupts, looking at you. "You never taught me like ya' were s'pposed to"
"You never cared to learn" you reply, acidic.
He sips his drink, trying to hide the smirk that's formed on his lips. You can't shut up, and he loves you've stayed the same.
"That means I've got some classes to take" Joel leans back on his chair, relaxed like he's won this round. "Just tell me when"
The tension cuts like the storm that's just formed outside.
"You should stay over, Joel" your dad offers when he takes a peak at the climate, "it's too dangerous outside"
Joel seems indestructible, like not even a snow blizzard could pierce through the rough old man. But he agrees, much to your dismay.
It's probably midnight already, and all you've done is toss around the bed. Nick peacefully snores next to you, and you envy how easily he falls asleep. You've always find it hard to sleep, the nighttime plagued with too many loud thoughts that fill the silence.
You get up carefully, heading downstairs for some water. You sip with tranquility when a noise jolts you from your sit.
The wooden floor creaks, making you aware you're not alone anymore.
"Can't sleep?"
You don't answer, seeing his sturdy figure emerge from the shadows until the dim moonlight shines over his aging features. Silence settles in. Outside, the wind howls, bumping against the windows with violence, like your heart does now against your chest.
"Not much of a talker, are you?"
"There's nothing to talk" cuts your response through the thick tension, the air suddenly suffocating.
You take another sip, but the tremble of your hand doesn't go unnoticed by Miller.
"Right" Joel sits next to you, on the kitchen island. "Won't even look at me, sugar? You've got eyes" his voice drops, "use 'em"
"What are you doing, Joel?" you ask looking at him, tears threatening to spill, making your bright eyes shimmer with pain.
He gets up abruptly, like he's woken up from a trance. He's seen his own pain on your eyes, and he hates it.
"Joel?" you ask again, demanding but softly.
He can't answer. Instead, he leaves.
"Goodnight, y/n" voice raw, many emotions boiling, hidden on the inside. It hurts.
If you hadn't changed, Joel too stayed the same.
A goddamn coward.
Two days have passed since, and now it's Christmas Eve.
You kneel, putting the presents under the tree. Normally, your parents would have much more people around for the holidays, but thanks to the storm, it's just them, Nick, Joel and you.
"I'm gonna miss Mrs. Stone's cookies" you pout, "I wish she could be here"
"It's a big loss for tonight" your dad sighs. "Next time, yeah? Christmas will come again faster than you think"
You nod, still absent as he walks away.
"Hey" Joel pops up behind, seemingly from nowhere.
"Hey" you reply, voice laced with tiredness just at the sight of him. How will you manage to survive until New Year's? You have no idea, the task harder if he's staying in the same house as you are.
"Put this in there, will ya'?"
He hands you a box, neatly wrapped up. What stands out the most is the silver bow on top. Your stomach drops: it's your favorite color.
"Y-yeah" you stammer. When the present falls in your hands, you notice it looks like Joel did it himself.
"Didn't know you were capable of nice things" you whisper. There's no anger in your voice, only loss.
"I'm trying" is what he says, before leaving you alone. Until then, you realize he had been touching you, the skin where his hand was on your shoulder burning.
Dinner goes by swiftly, conversation flowing easily courtesy of Nick and your father, who both have in common the love for talking. It may be your brain messing with you, but his eyes never leave you, fixated on your every move, savoring when your lips open and take a bite; when you lick them afterwards, salt in your mouth he'd love to take off in a movement of his tongue. The ghost of your lips haunts him, cruelly playing with his yearning now that he's got you across the table. It's a few centimeters, really, but it feels like you're miles away: and it's his fault. You're no longer his, and he's reminded of it every time your boyfriend kisses what he once had.
Now it's time to open the presents, and you excitedly raise your hand to go first.
"Alright, sweetheart. You know I can't deny you anything" your father beams, "go ahead. Choose any present you'd like to open first"
Joel's eyes are on you, and you know he's desperately waiting for you to open his first. Maybe partly in courage, maybe partly in fear, but you choose Nick's first: something safe to start with.
"That's mine!" he chirps, and Joel mockingly imitates his kid-like joy under his breath.
You unwrap the present, finding a small box inside.
"Please, don't be another box" you joke, and he laughs.
"You think that low of me? Please"
You keep unwrapping and find a bag. The bag has a small tag that reads: Gotcha.
"Nick! God, you're so corny" you tease as you open the bag. Inside, there's a velvet box, and by the looks of it, you can tell it's jewelry. You gasp, pulling out a silver charm tied to a silver thin chain: it's a marlin fish. "Nick..."
"I know. Marlin isn't your favorite fish, but that's all I could find" you get up, wrapping him on a tight hug. Aware you've got an audience, he leans and whispers "I knew fishing was special to you, because of your dad and childhood. Maybe now" he takes it from your hands, carefully putting it around your neck, "it can also be our special thing"
Joel sees the scene unfold in front of him, his grip tight on the cloth of his jeans until it's white. His jaw clenches at the affection display; all he sees is red.
"What about that one?" your mom points out Joel's present. A pit of nerves forms in your stomach. "I don't remember seeing it there"
Before you can grab it, your dad moves faster, examining the box on his hands.
"It's Joel's" he makes a pause, "for y/n"
You pretend to be shocked, and you can tell Nick tenses at your side.
"You didn't tell me you were close"
"Used to" you correct quickly, despite the knot on your throat. "Not anymore"
"He still got you a present, though"
You don't get to answer because your dad leaves the box on your lap.
"Open it" it's soft but feels threathing for some reason, "I'm curious"
Joel's resting hands tremble as much as yours while you open the present. You reveal the simple white box under the wrap, opening it up.
Your voice comes out shaky as you call his name. And he can see it: the muffled laughters on the shed, the warmth of the cabin's fire, the fogged up windows of his car, the bruises on your tits and that voice, so vulnerable, he can see you on his porch, saying those three words that terrified him so much, his solution was breaking your heart.
"What is it?" your dad asks.
"It's a scarf" the fabric tickles your fingers that wander through the loose strands.
You remember it all too well.
"Oh, it's vintage!" your mom comments when she sees the worn-out aspect.
But just as your affair with Joel, you keep the secret of it's real owner.
"It's perfect" you mutter, remembering better times: ones where he'd wrap the scarf colored as the leaves on the ground around your neck, covering bruises he'd just made while you joked you'd steal it, and Joel would say he'd just let you, that it looked better on you anyway.
You've forgotten the good, so used to thinking of Joel at your worst, like a punishment to endure and sink your shipwreck even deeper. You felt lost, replaying memories that seemed stuck on a loop. Since last december, all you've known is pain; creeping up through the cracks in your fleeting happiness, one you've tried to find to no avail. One day, past the curses and cries, maybe there'll be happiness. But as for now, that day seems terribly far.
As he sees your teary gaze, Joel often wonders were it went wrong. When did hurt was all you had for him in that gaze of yours he can't bare to look that long, not before he's reliving all those seasons by your side, replaying his footsteps on the snow, grass, water and fallen leaves, trying to find the one where it all went wrong. The torture he now wears like a second skin, his agony painted words addressed to the fire of a house that feels so empty and alone.
"We should continue" your dad speaks over the silence, "there are still many presents left"
The night moves slowly, and the scarf you've chosen to wear is now suffocating around your neck. But you can't take it off. This is the closest you've been to Joel on a year; it still smells like him. As the presents run out, you excuse yourself early to bed, only to wake up again in the middle of the night. You want to pee, so you exit your room and walk to the bathroom, your bare feet against the cold wood sending shivers down your spine that only seem to augment when you walk past his door, next to the bathroom. After being done, you splash some water on your face, as if that would make some sense get to you.
"What are you doing?" you ask yourself in the mirror. Your tired reflection stares back at you, in silence.
You open the door, ready to go back to bed when a hand covers your mouth and shoves you inside.
"Don't scream" your cries go muffled against his hand, the calloused digits pressing against your soft skin, "wanna wake 'em up?"
You shake your head, so he lets your mouth free.
"Joel" you call out, but he's facing the door, his back all you see. No sound can be heard, aside from his uneven breaths.
"I'm sorry" he says, and then you hear the small click of the door's lock.
"What the hell?"
This time, he faces you, but his movements are so quick you don't register his lips on yours until it's too late. He kisses you like a starved man who hasn't had a meal in years, eating you out while your body acts up on it's own, the urgency embarrasing even.
"No" you pull back. Your mind screams in guilt at how much you want this, and that's all you can hear aside from his ragged breaths.
"No?"
"It isn't fair"
"To lover boy out there?" he teases, "I know he ain't treating you right, or ya' wouldn't look me the way ya' do"
"Don't, Joel" your tone is icy, "Nick treats me better than you ever could"
He laughs, darkly. "You know I ain't meant that" he corners you against the sink, the material cold against your bare legs; you don't sleep with nothing but an oversized t-shirt, despite the weather.
"Riddle me this, sugar: if he treats you so well, why are you so fucking wet?"
Your heart beats so fast you fear you'll die. He gets closer, his hot breathe prickling against your ear.
"It takes a man to please a woman" he tucks a loose strand behind your ear, "and I ain't leaving my baby displeased"
His fingers pull down the panties until your clit is exposed.
"Look at 'er" he traces a teasing finger over the puffy skin, coated on your slick "missed me, didn't she? Gonna treat 'er so good, she won't ever feel lonely again"
He softly kisses your neck, the trepidation and regret tying your stomach in knots.
Joel teases your needy core with his finger.
"Tell you somethin', sugar" Joel finds it hard to hide his adoration, "I missed 'er too"
He stares into your eyes while pushing two rough fingers inside your cunt. You bite your lip, holding back your moans.
"Need summ help?" he kisses you roughly, smirking when he feels your shaky breath against his lips. He pushes them in and out faster, making your walls squeeze tightly around his fingers.
"Did he ever have you comin' this fast? I'ont think so" he whispers against your neck. You whisper his name through labored breaths, making a smug smile adorn his features. "Good girl"
He proceeds to kneel down, despite the creak of his bones. You see him leave a trail of kisses down your thighs, your legs opening wider in response. His tongue gives rapid flickers against your sensitive bud, aware of the lack of time. He slurps the pulsing cunt, his head moving back and forth while he sucks, coating his moustache on your juices. Joel goes back to the quick movements, tongue knowing your spots and twisting fingers as aid, causing your back to arch.
"Fuck" you curse as you come, gripping the sink a bit too tight.
Joel then pulls away and places his fingers coated in your arousal in his mouth and licks them. He sees the obscene display in the fogged mirror, satisfied.
"Goodnight, sugar" Joel bids goodbye like it's nothing, kissing your lips that taste like you. "Still as sweet as ever"
It's New Year's Eve.
"You're leaving?" you sound so sad, Joel can't help but scoff. In the end, he'd stayed long after the storm had passed, your father arguing holidays weren't meant to be spent alone. So he stayed.
And now, Nick is leaving.
"I'm sorry" he apologizes for the millionth time, "but granny is sick. I don't know if she'll make it another year, so say the doctors. I would love to stay, really, but I have to be with her"
You understand, having lost your grandad years ago. But that doesn't mean you're okay with it: Nick leaving means a clear path for Joel, who didn't stop with him sleeping next room, and certainly won't now, despite not having interacted with you since he ate you out on the bathroom.
He pulls you into a long hug and a kiss that doesn't feel the same anymore. "Will you be okay?"
"Yeah" you nod, "I'll miss you though"
"Well, I'll be all yours when you get back"
You smile but it doesn't reach your eyes.
"See you, y/n. I love you"
Your lips purse after you utter those three words back.
Later at night, the house is filled with guests. The lively environment is restored, and you feel less confined to Joel's claws, so many faces to speak and distract yourself with, compared to Christmas and the past couple of days. You clutch the marlin charm tightly, mind busy wandering to places it shouldn't. Joel stares at you from across the room, eyes trained on you as he sips his drink calmly, like he's won; you don't know why he's keeping score if he already knows it. You wander off to the kitchen, and Joel follows you.
"You have to stop" you speak as soon as he enters, aware he would follow you.
"I ain't do shit"
You turn around, facing him. "Bullshit, Joel"
"Tell me, what'd I do?" he comes closer, and despite your erratic heart and fear, you stay still; challenging.
"You did this, Joel" his expression falters for a second, the weight of last december's crimes dawning on him. "Don't try to make me feel guilty"
"I ain't. That wasn't your fault" he sighs, breath dragging long like a cigarrette. "But this" he motions with his hands the reduced distance, "this it is"
Your breath hitches.
"We can't keep doing this, Joel. Nick doesn't deserve it"
He pins you against the counter with force, gripping the skin of your wrists until you're sure you'll get a bruise. Joel's eyes darken at the thought of your frail and soft body under his rough figure and belly, his strength and your weakness making the job of putting you under his will, so much easier.
"Don't say his name" he whispers, his breath laced with alcohol, "he ain't here anymore. Ain't nothing to stop me now, right, sugar?" Joel purrs as he steps towards you, taking your face in his hands before starting a heated kiss, making you stumble.
This was so wrong, but it felt so right, the missing pieces falling like dominoes.
He was your pain divine: you needed his hurt to bleed and feel alive again. Maybe the red of the blood and the blue of your sadness could paint your darkest grey skies with a happiness you've craved since you lost him.
"Tell me to stop" Joel whispers, tempting like a devil as he kisses down your neck, littering it with hickeys.
"Don't"
Next thing you know, you're excusing yourself upstairs and then Joel goes missing too, both inside of your bedroom.
Your dress was the first thing to go.
"Wear it for me?" you're about to answer, lips pursing, but he cuts you off, "and don't lie, sugar. Don't get too used to the bad girl schtick"
"I only wore this dress so you could take it off"
He kisses you desperately, legs wrapped around his waist while he carries you to bed, and the memories of your first flood you as he drops you down to your back, watching the way you bounce. He has you just like he wanted: moaning his name while he leaves tender kisses on the soft bare flesh.
"Joel-" you gasp. Despite the chatter downstairs and music, you try to remain low as he wraps his lips around your nipples. He then moves to your breasts, covering them with his kisses and hickeys. He hadn't touched a woman ever since you left, the feeling of the rosy innocent skin on his rough teeth making him loose all common sense, the real thing even better than what he would try to conjure when he fucked himself in the bathroom at the memory of you.
He groans when he feels your hands roaming over his back, nails digging on the scarred skin.
"Someone's eager" he teases, seeing your damp underwear. "Is this 'cause of me?" you don't answer, too busy removing the cloth, only for his strong fingers to grab you and stop you. "Don't be shy, answer baby. We got a whole new year, yeah?"
"I need you Joel" you whine, not laughing at the joke "cut the crap"
He pushes you gently back down to the bed. "So needy sugar, want me to help ya'?"
You eagerly nod, making him laugh. But there's no mock, only love behind the sound.
"Will you let this old man take care of ya', pretty baby? Just use your words, and I'll be all y'rs"
"Do it, Joel. Just do it"
You gasp as your folds begin to be prodded open by the fat head of Joel's cock. You curse, feeling him push in just the tip, the sweet burn of your walls welcoming his size making you grab his arms that stand at the sides of your body, caging you in.
His tummy pushes against your stomach as he adjusts himself, his weight sinking your body on the creaking matress.
"'S just the tip, ready for the whole thing?"
You needed him, all of him.
"Yes, Joel. I want you" You say and he pushes in slowly, feeling his cock fill up every empty space that craved for him.
You squeeze your eyes shut as his hips roll back pulling out about halfway before rocking back in. His sloppy thrusts pick up a familiar pace that makes you moan and beg for more, head falling against the sheets as his pace speds up until he's fucking you senseless.
Joel's brain goes blank at the sight of you creaming on his dick and the obscene sounds leaving your pretty mouth. Did he really give this up? He'd definitely go back in time and slap the fuck out of his past self, because there is simply nothing better than having you under him, screaming his name like that's all you can ever say.
"Does he fuck you like this, huh?" Joel angles his hips, resuming his brutal pace. Your body jolts with each snap. "Is he enough for you?"
"Yes" his stomach drops, dark eyes now hesitant, "but he isn't you"
He pushes himself back in, your eyes fluttering shut almost immediately.
"Tell me you'll leave him, y/n. Look me in the eyes and tell me who ya' really belong to"
Your eyes snap open at the possesiveness clashed with jealousy that drips from his sweat-soaked lips.
The confession falls easily, as meant to be. "Yours, Joel. Always was and will be"
He could cum just at the sight of your loving doe eyes.
Downstairs, the countdown begins, but in your room, all you can hear are his soft groans and your pathetic whimpers, and if the people would stop shouting, you could probably hear the squelch of your dripping cunt sucking in his girth with each thrust.
After a few more erratic thrusts, you feel his warm cum fill you up. Joel was always obsessed with how his cum seeped out of you and around his cock. Without thinking, his rough fingers push deep in you, making you yelp as he makes sure he isn't wasting a drop behind.
The countdown ends, and fireworks erupt outside as your head rests on the crook of his sweat covered neck.
"I love ya', sugar" those words you thought you imagined that one time, now real, so goddamn real his voice quivers and eyes get tearful with grief, "'S okay if ya' don't say it. I just wanted you to hear 'em. 'M just tired of wastin' my time"
He wraps your lips with his with tenderness you had only dreamed of. There is still a lot to talk and heal, but this time, his arms hold you like a promise. And you let yourself believe it.
Y/n's New Years' purposes: 1. Break up with Nick 2. Try to explain this seasonal mess to mom and dad 3. At last, try to be happy
#dilfistwrites#pedro pascal#pedro pascal x reader#pedro pascal x you#joel miller#joel miller tlou#joel miller x reader#joel miller x you#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller fic#joel miller smut#joel miller angst#dbf!joel miller#dbf!joel#tlou#tlou fanfiction
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Big Girl
Pairing: bfd!Joel x reader
Summary: Joel Miller gets called to pick you and his drunken daughter up from a party. With a week left before you leave for college, Joel doesn’t think you’re ready for it.
Warnings: 18+, unprotected p-in-v (wrap it up, folks), daddy kink, praise, kitchen, creampie, best friend’s dad, age gap (reader is 19, Joel is around 40)
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You and Sarah had been inseparable since kindergarten. You did everything together. Every all nighter, every time you needed a new dress for a school dance, every new trend you did together. Sarah’s parents worked a lot so she spent almost all her extra time at your house.
When high school came around things started changing. Sarah’s mom left and her dad threw himself into his work. Sarah started going wild and you went right along with her. You started sneaking out, hooking up with boys, and partying every weekend. You both graduated high school (barely) and somehow made it into the same college. With only a week left until you moved into your dorm. Everyone was throwing the last parties of the summer, eager to get last memories with their high school friends.
That’s how you got where you are now, the loud blaring of the speakers as you danced in the random basement of the night. Sarah was beyond tipsy, dancing on the beer pong table while the guys all ogled her body in her short skirt and tight top. You were, unfortunately, the designated driver of the evening. Leaving you with the slightest buzz that had all but faded away.
You pulled out your phone, cursing when you saw the time.
“We gotta go, babe,” you yelled to Sarah over the thumping bass of the speakers.
Sarah look down at you with a pout as you grabbed her arm and helped her onto the dirt floor. Her white sneakers landed in a puddle of something spilled and you winced.
“Don’t wanna,” she whined, throwing her head back for dramatic effect.
You patted her back as you pushed her through the crowd in front of you.
“I know but your dad is gonna be getting home soon and we gotta get back before he realizes we’re gone.”
Sarah groaned as you push her up the stairs of the basement and into the backyard. You led her to the car as you fished around in your handbag.
“Fuck,” you groan and lean your forehead against the window.
Sarah didn’t hear you, too busy flirting with some grimy Super Senior™ to realize you had somehow lost the keys to her shiny new graduation gift.
You pull her away from the walking STD, and pull her back to the car.
“I lost the keys, I need you to keep your hand right here and Don’t. Move.” You spoke slowly, pushing her hand against the hood of the car. She nodded slowly with drooping eyelids then giggled.
“You look soooo funny when you’re serious.” She laughed and stumbled. You shoot her a half serious glare and head back into the basement to search for the keys.
After fifteen minutes of searching the dirty floor with your phone flashlight and trying to shout at people through the loud music, you come back up victoriously holding the keys in your hand. Your victory doesn’t last long when you see Sarah standing next to the car, and her dad next to her.
“Oh shit,” you groan as you walk up to them.
“Oh shit is right,” Joel glares down at you, Sarah draped against his shoulder.
“I called my dad to help,” Sarah giggled.
“I can explain-“
“In. Now.” Joel growls, pointing to his truck.
You just nod and walk over to the car. Joel drags Sarah into the back seat where she promptly passes out. You jump into the front seat and Joel gets into the driver seat, grumpily buckling up and peeling out of the driveway.
The drive back is tense. Only the sounds of Sarah snoring and the low grumble of the road. Joel occasionally glances at you then back at the road, his grip tightening around the steering wheel. You pull down your tight fitting dress. Maybe he’ll go easier on you if you don’t look like you belong on a street corner.
The car pulls into the driveway and Joel pulls Sarah out. You walk behind him as he carries her into her bedroom. Every glare he throws your way makes you duck your head more.
You can’t remember a time when you saw him this mad, but you were usually sneakier than this. You guys had never gotten caught, you always got home on time and made sure any evidence was gone before a parent could find it. Usually you would be back at your house with your sweet, but unfortunately super gullible parents who didn’t think you and Sarah could ever do anything wrong.
You helped Sarah into some pajamas and hoped to sneak out of the front door. You carefully walked through the living room, trying your hardest not to make any noise. The sound of a cupboard slamming shut behind you has you almost jumping out of your skin. You jump around, looking straight at Joel.
“I’m really sorry, Mr. Miller.” You immediately start.
“Look, I understand. You’re 19, you think it’s cool to go to parties,” Joel starts, his expression hard. He leans back against the counter, gesturing to the stool across from him. You scurry over and sit, pulling the hem of your dress down. “But this shit is dangerous. Y’all getting drunk and being around all those hormonal boys or God forbid getting behind a wheel.”
“I’m not drunk,” You argue, but one look from Joel has you shrinking back in your seat.
“You’re leaving in a week and you have no idea the shit that college boys think,” he crosses his arms across his chest. The sleeves of his flannel are rolled up to his elbows showing off his muscular forearms.
“I’m a big girl I can handle it.” You shoot back with a bite.
His eyebrows raise at your tone and he pushes off the counter to stand at his full height. Looking down at your smaller frame on the stool.
You can feel a wave of rebellion coarse through you as you look up at him. Sarah spent most of her time over the years at your house so you never really got to know Joel. You would see him in passing or at big life events for Sarah, but you rarely had to deal with him one on one. The fact that he could just stand there and scold you like a child when he didn’t even know you made anger bubble up inside you.
“You’re a big girl?” He steps closer to you.
You nod, suddenly feeling like prey being hunted
“Y-yes,” you stumble.
“You don’t sound too sure, Darlin,” he smirks down at you.
His eyes travel down, down to the hem of your too-tight dress that had made its way dangerously close to the top of your thighs. You cross your legs and squeeze your thighs together, hoping to shield yourself from his sight and hoping to stop the dull ache that had started to form.
“These aren’t the boys you’re used to dealing with, these are men. Can you handle a man?”
You bite your lip at his words. Maybe you were drunk. There’s no way q your best friend’s dad was standing less than a foot in front of you, undressing you with those brown eyes. There’s no way he was flirting with you after chastising you not even a minute ago. There’s no way you were enjoying it.
You nod up at him. “I can handle a man.”
He grins down at you, “prove it.”
Those two words set something ablaze in you. In a flash you’re snaking your arms around his neck and bringing his mouth to yours greedily. He returns it hungrily, wrapping his arms around your back.
You stumble off the stool and his hands are immediately on your ass. You let out a little yelp and he takes the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth. You gasp into the kiss, breathing him in as he explores every inch of your tongue.
His hands grip your ass, supporting you as you jump back onto the counter, leaving him stand in in between your spread legs. The hard bulge in the front of his pants rubs again you and he lets out a low groan against your lips.
He detaches his lips from yours, dragging them down your neck. He ruts softly against your clothed core, making you whimper and close your eyes. He growls against your neck, continuing his assault. You reach down to the front of his pants, sloppily undoing his belt.
Your hand slithers into his pants, wrapping around his impressive length. Your thumb grazes over his silky tip and he hisses, pulling back. He grabs your wrist
“Not yet, baby,” he mutters, starting to slowly kiss his way down your neck.
“Need it,” You whine, trying to pull him back to you with your legs.
His hands move to your thighs, pushing them apart to stop them from pulling him in. He pulls back and looks down at you, his cheeks flushed, his lips swollen. He pushes the hem of your dress up to your waist, revealing the black lacy panties that you wore for the party.
He drops to his knees, staring at the little pretty pink bow sitting on the front. His eyes never leave yours as he takes the bow between his teeth, pulling it back and then letting go. Letting it snap back to your skin. You feel yourself clench around nothing beneath the fabric and bite your swollen bottom lip.
“Look at that bow,” he groans, pushing his face forward again. His nose rubs against the bow as he presses a kiss directly to your clothed clit. “You’re like a present, wrapped up for me.”
“Mr. Miler please,” you gasp, not sure how much more you can take.
“Please what, baby,” He presses another kiss to the same spot.
“Please just do something,” Your lips parting in a needy whine. You try to move your hips forward, desperate for more, but his hold on your thighs tightens, stilling your movements. You groan in frustration.
Joel slips his fingers into the side of your panties, stretching them and pulling them aside. He lets out a groan as he sees you finally. Your swollen pink folds slick with your own arousal. He presses another kiss, this time to your bare clit. You gasp and tug in his hair, he lets out a growl.
“You taste so sweet, darlin,”
His tongue darts out to tease around your bundle of nerves, licking circles around it but never hitting it where you want. You pant above him, letting out little whimpers as he teases you.
His hand moves travels from your thigh to your stomach. His fingers splay out against your skin and pushes you back until your back hits the cold granite.
Your fingers tug hard when his lips latch around your clit, suckling against it as his tongue massages the bud.
“Oh fuck,” you moan, bringing a hand up to your mouth to muffle your noises.
His hand that isn’t pinning you down into the countertop makes its way down. You feel a finger prod at your entrance and you gasp.
His finger slips in easily to your soaked hole. You bite down on your hand, trying to keep yourself from being too loud. You lift your head up, looking down at where he’s connected to you and find him looking directly at you. Your walls clench around him at the sight.
He slips another finger in, slowly thrusting them into you. Those brown pupils are blown wide in desire as he watched you whine, trying to grind down on him. He scissors those thick fingers inside of you and you moan, squeezing them.
He groans against your clit, sending vibrations up through your body like the best vibrator money could buy. You feel that ball starting to tighten deep in your abdomen.
“C-close, Joel, so close,” you gasp, groaning when that hand stops you from grinding against his face.
“Gonna cum on my fingers?” He asks, mouth still attached to your swollen bundle of nerves.
“Yes, yes, please,” you moan.
His fingers curl inside you, hitting that sensitive, spongey spot. That quickly sends you over the edge, your walls clamp down, fluttering around his fingers. You bite your hand, a few moans still coming through.
He continues to massage that spot inside you and suck on your sensitive clit, far past the last aftershock of your orgasm. You let out whimpers about him, your hands that were pulling on his scalp now trying to push him away as he licks up the last of your arousal. You pull him up and away from your sensitive core.
He brings the back of his hand up to his mouth, wiping away the slick left behind. His eyes never leave yours for a second.
You sit back up, your hands flying back to the front of his jeans. You push them down, his thick length popping out. You bite your lip at the sight.
“Like what you see?”
You look back up at Joel, a smirk on his face. You didn’t want to play, you just felt hot need pulsing through your veins.
You look directly into his eyes as you wrap your hand around him, pumping slowly. His smirk wavers at your light touch. You sweep your thumb across the tip, collecting the bead of pre-cum.
His breath hitches as he watches you bring your thumb to your mouth, licking the droplet. He groans deep in his throat at the sight. You grin up at him.
“You’re driving me crazy,” he growls, wrapping his hand around the base of his cock and resting it against your puffy folds. The underside of him rubs against your sensitive clit.
“Please fuck me,” you pout up at him. His face goes back to your throat, kissing and suckling the soft flesh.
“You want my cock, baby?” He groans at the base of your throat.
“Yes, please give it to me,” you whine. He slides through your slick folds, lubricating himself with your arousal. His tip hitches against your clit and you moan into his ear, clutching at his shoulders.
“Please, Joel, please,” you beg desperately.
He pulls back and grins at your flushed face, “love hearing you beg for me, sweetheart.”
He hands massage your thighs, pushing them apart. You grab the base of his dick, guiding the fat head towards where you need it most. You’re both panting, watching as he notches himself against your entrance.
He slowly starts to ease himself in, stretching you inch by delicious inch. You can’t remember the last time, if ever, you were stretched like this. He was right, you were dealing with men now. And you loved it.
You bite your lip to stifle your moan as he bottoms out inside you. He stills, panting but never taking his eyes off where you’re connected. His lips swollen in a pant as he throbs inside of you. You place slow kisses along his chest, urging him to move.
He groans as he pulls back, then snaps his hips forward. You whimper at the feeling.
“Taking me like a fucking champ, baby.” He praises and you clench around him, whining pitifully. “Taking it like such a big girl.”
You whine as he uses your earlier words against you. His hand pushes you back onto the countertop as he lazily thrusts into you. His hand wrapping around your dress bunched up at your waist. His other hand wraps around your ankle, bringing it up and over his shoulder, then the other one.
The new angle causes him to push his tip into that sensitive spot inside you. You let out a louder moan at the feeling.
“F-fuck,” you gasp, clenching around him. You feel that ball inside you start to tighten again.
“I’m not gonna last much,” you stop to moan again, as he kisses your calf. “Not gonna last much longer.”
The hand wrapped around your dress pulls you forward, making him reach deeper into you.
“Gonna cum all over my cock?” He groans down at you, using your dress as a handle to pull you back onto him over and over again as his pace picks up.
You nod and whimper.
His free hand snakes down to rub your clit in tight little circles, making you squirm under him and moan.
“Come on, baby, cum all over daddy’s cock.” He groans, his thrusts becoming sloppy and you know that he’s holding back on his own impending release.
His hand comes up to cover your mouth, his other hands still rubbing furiously against your sensitive nub. Something deep inside you snaps and send you tumbling over the edge, your vision going white as you clench around him hard. His thick cock still pistoning deep inside you.
His hand does little to muffle your moans and instead he pushes his thumb into your mouth. Your tongue wraps around him and you suckle greedily on the digit.
He groans at the sight, his hips snapping harder against yours.
“Not gonna last much longer, darlin,” his voice hitches when you graze your teeth along his thumb. “Where d’you want it?”
You let his thumb slip out of your mouth with a ‘pop’ and bite your lip. “Want it inside me, daddy.” You say, giving him a fucked out look.
His hips stumble as he looks at your pouty, swollen lips and wide eyes. “Want me to fill you up?”
You nod, his thumb still resting on your bottom lip, “please.” You beg.
He leans down, capturing your lips in his as he gives a few more sloppy, fast strokes. Then groaning into your mouth as he stills deep inside you, spilling his release into you.
You gasp as you feel the warmth spread through you, reaching deeper and deeper inside you. You swallow his moans, letting him rut inside you lazily as he comes down from his high.
He raises back up, pulling out of you. You’re so sensitive that you let out a quiet whimper at the feeling. He grabs a rag warm rag and starts slowly cleaning you.
Silence hangs in the air around you. You’re suddenly aware of everything that just happened. You just fucked your best friend’s dad. Your best friend’s dad just fucked you. Your best friend’s dad just made you cum twice on their kitchen counter.
And they were the best orgasms you’ve ever had.
He doesn’t say anything, just shoves himself back into his pants and fixes his clothes. You pull your panties back into place and shove your dress back down as far as you can while still seated on the counter.
“I’m on the pill.” You say, finally breaking the silence.
“Oh,” he grunts. “That’s good.”
“So we don’t need to worry about that,” you trail off.
The sound of a door squeaking open down the hall causes you to jump off of the counter. Fully pulling your dress back into place, you practically jump away from each other, standing on opposite sides of the island he just defiled you on.
Sarah stumbles into the kitchen, swaying back and forth. Running into one wall and pushing off of it just to run into another one. She stops when she sees both of you.
“I’m not drunk,” she slurs, pointing a finger at Joel. She pulls the handle of the fridge open far harder than needed, grabbing a bottle of water, and slams it closed again.
She turns around on wobbly legs, then stops and glares at him again.
“You weren’t being mean to her were you?” She points a shaky finger towards you.
He smirks and darts his eyes over to yours, his eyes raking back down your body. “No, I was very nice to her.”
You shudder under his gaze.
“Good,” Sarah stumbles over to you, grabbing you in a too-tight hug and starts to drag you down the hall to her room. Her drunken, tear-filled voice travels back to the kitchen “Cause she’s my best friend and no one is allowed to be mean to her or I’LL FUCK THEM UP.”
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Note: this is literally the first thing I have ever written, if you’ve made it this far thank you so much!! (I’m usually not this freakay I promise)
#joel miller#joel miller tlou#joel miller smut#joel miller imagine#joel miller one shot#joel miller x reader#joel miller fanfiction#the last of us#tlou#the last of us fic#joel miller x you#bfd!joel#gnawing at the bars of my enclosure#shouldn’t be allowed to see the light of day#smut#hotdilfsummerchallenge
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THREE STRIKES
Pairing: Joel Miller x Female!Reader - No Outbreak
Rating: 18+ | W/C: 2k
Summary: Joel fucks you in his truck.
Tags: road rage, cockwarming, orgasm denial, husband!joel, public sex, car sex, p in v, unprotected sex, use of the word daddy, grumpy!joel
A/N: swung this out in eight hours through pure adrenaline and proofreading with my homie MASTERLIST
If there was one thing you knew about Joel Miller, it was to never fuck with him when he was on the road.
It wasn’t that he was a bad driver, per se. Joel just had pretty low tolerance with shitty drivers, as evident by the dozens of times he’d changed his horn out in the past couple of months. You learned to sit pretty & let him grumble—being on your merry way as the passenger princess you were, humming along to whatever country station he flipped to.
“Left in the lane up ahead,” you cut in, interrupting Joel’s long-winded rant about the signages being too small. Which of course, his old man vision was probably more of the reason why, not the state's fault. Joel at the same time, refused to use a GPS, a stubborn stance that had already led to him missing an exit earlier. Considering the two of you were now running late to dinner to his younger brother,Tommy, and his wife’s place—you’d been on edge.
Joel glances at you, annoyance flickering across his face. “I know where I’m goin’, sweetheart.”
“Sure,” you replied, the sarcasm practically dripping from the single word.
“Joel!” Your arm whips directly in front of his face to point at the lane he was supposed to be in. He shoots you a sharp look in return, his palm pressing down on the base of the wheel, rotating it clockwise as he finally shifts over. You could tell, just from the tension in his jaw—that you’d hit strike one.
“I was about to,” he countered, his voice defensive.
“Yeah, didn’t seem like it.”
“My signal was on.”
“Oh, great, you announced your signalling intentions five hundred meters away from the lane. Can I please just put the GPS on?” you bit back, exasperated.
“We’ll get there. Quit fussin’.”
You’d slumped back into your seat, attempting to not let it affect you, Joel knew better though. He could tell you were ready to pop up with a “we need to turn here!”—despite your piss poor attempt at behaving for now.
His truck comes to a stop behind a Blue Toyota Yaris—with a slow rumble from the engine. Fingers drumming steadily against the steering wheel to fill the silence. Finally, he breaks the tension. “You plannin’ on sulkin’ all the way there?”
“I’m not sulking.” You shot back.
Joel raises a brow, giving you a once-over. Gaze flicking to your thighs, clamped together and turned away from him. Well, that’ll do it. His lips twitched like he might’ve smirked. “Mmhm. Sure looks like it.” His voice a smooth drawl.
You turned your head just enough to shoot him a mocking look, trying not to let it show just how much the hum in his response caused a visceral reaction in what went on below.
Joel’s jaw clenches at that, the faintest crease forming between his brows.
Strike two.
The light turns green.
With a long, drawn out sigh—Joel eased his boot off the brake, released the clutch and wrapped a firm hand around the gear shift to nudge it into first. The truck rolled forward with its familiar low rumble, He continued driving without saying a word, his patience teetering on the edge with how he was now holding the steering wheel with a white knuckled grip.
You shift in your seat, mindlessly scrolling through your phone when the click of a tongue snaps your attention back up. “You gotta be shittin’ me.” He breathes out. Gesturing angrily at the Blue Yaris driving way below the speed limit, you couldn’t really fault Joel for this one. You lean backwards, fully prepared to hear the end of it.
He behaves for a while, but after a few miles, his patience snaps. With a grunt, he slams on the horn and flashed his lights, the sound cutting through the air like a gunshot.
You groaned internally at his obnoxious habit. Before you could get a word in, the Yaris brake-checks him, sending the both of you careening forward.
Your face lights up in pure and utter amusement. You let out an audible hah! Karma was kind, you supposed, for the Yaris at least. But not for you. Definitely not for you. By the time you turned to look at Joel—
He was already looking your way.
That was three strikes.
“Oh, that’s funny now is it?” He says, with no humour in his tone.
“Maybe you shouldn’t be so obnoxious with your honking. Just because you’ve got old people hearing—”
Joel swerves, stopping on the shoulder of the road. You twist your body a little when you feel the lock of your seat belt snapping open with a dull click.
“Up.”
You blinked. “Up where? Onto the dashboard?” You mused at his audacity. His eyes twitch. With a sharp tug of your arm, he attempts to pry you over the console towards his side. “Ow!—Okay, okay!” You huffed, unsteadily sliding over, your ass hitting the honk in the process, sending the both of you jolting.
Joel’s hand tightens around your wrist to pull you snug onto his lap. “Christ, Joel, what the hell?” You tried, effectively shutting up when you felt his very hard erection pressed against you. Your eyes widen, looking at Joel who didn’t have an ounce of embarrassment on his expression.
Clearly, someone liked you being a brat.
“Nothin’ to say now, mouth?” Joel tugs you by the back of your waist, your palms steadying yourself against his shoulders. You bit down on your lips to withhold just how much you enjoyed this “punishment”. With the thin material of your skirt, you’d felt every-single-fucking-thing. And god did it feel good.
So much for putting me in my place. You thought.
Your heart was already thumping with how the truck was still illegally parked, surely, he wouldn’t fuck you into obedience here now would he? And risk getting arrested? Goody-two-shoes Joel?
Your gaze trails down as Joel snaps his belt buckle off. Nerves frayed in both trepidation and exhilaration. He brings his hand up to his mouth to wet his fingertips before slipping them beneath your skirt.
You shudder at the motion, feeling his knuckles graze the sensitive skin, legs parting where it was tucked underneath your thighs. A thumb pushes the flimsy fabric of your thong aside, his knuckles grazing your clit. You jumped at the sensation. He gathers the slick to rub against the entrance of your folds before sinking two fingers into you in a go. You groan, tipping your head back at how full you already feel.
“Fuck the lube, I guess.” He murmurs more so to himself. Lips quirked into a lop-sided grin as he curls his fingers up steadily into your slick pussy. Thrusting in and out. Iiiiin and out. You ground your hips impatiently to take his fingers deeper. Which surprisingly—he lets you. Normally you’d be met with a stern warning to stay still.
He wasn’t that cruel to you, yet. A rough palm comes up to knead your tits over the pretty blue sundress you had on. You were on the precipice from coming with the adrenaline alone.
But just as you tightened around his fingers, your pussy clenches around….nothing. Your half lidded gaze meets Joel in confusion when he pulls his fingers out. You feel two heavy palms lift your hips, which you oblige without complaint.
“Upsy-daisy.” He grunts, stuffing you to the brim with his cock. The both of you let out a groan in unison. Your hand slams up onto the headrest, your pussy greedily swallowing all eight inches of him up.
You attempt to plant your palms back onto his knees to ride Joel’s cock when a sturdy palm on your waist stops you, tugging your back towards his chest. You look back at Joel, a brow furrowed.
The truck then whirrrs back to life.
What the fuck.
What the fuck?
Your lips parted in disbelief, you feel the truck swerve back onto the road, the slight jump making his cock nudge deeper into you. A pitiful moan left you. “A-Are you kidding me? You’re driving like this? We’re gonna crash!” You protested.
“We won’t if you keep your head down.” He emphasizes the down with a hand tugging the back of your neck till’ your cheeks smushed against his shoulders—eyes steadily welling up in tears from the growing ache.
“Wanna be my GPS so badly dontcha’, sugar?” He taunts,“go ‘head. Tell daddy how many miles he has left.”
You grimaced at his tone. You should’ve known punishment wasn’t going to taste sweet.
Every goddamned dip in the road had you biting back a moan. Weakly, you glanced outside the car windows. “T-Two.” You manage. Eyes fluttered shut with hot tears staining Joel’s flannel.
Your cunt tightens around Joel’s cock involuntarily. You lift your hips an inch to give yourself the bare minimum stimulation, gasping softly at every single jerk of the truck.
“You best quit doin’ that if you want daddy to fuck you, baby.” He warns.
You hiccup, forehead rubbing against Joel’s shoulders pitifully. “Joel…” You whined against his chest.
“I know, sweetheart. How else are you gonna learn, huh? Testin’ me all damn—...“ He heaves, rocking you upwards until you come slamming down back onto his cock. “—day.” Grunting at the way your pussy grips around him like vice. You let out a stifled cry against his shoulder.
Thighs quivering now at the lack of proper attention to your cunt.
“I-I’m sorry—…can’t—…Joel.” You begged, lifting your head up to trace the curve of your nose up the scuff of his jaw.
Joel wasn’t a man of steel for sure, just feeling the wetness of his wife’s tears against his chest was enough for him to give in and fuck her like the pretty little slut she was for him.
He clenches his jaw. Letting you pepper needy kisses up his neck. “Please…please please—…”
“Need him, baby.”
The car nearly comes into a screeching halt when Joel stops in front of Tommy’s garage.
You feel a firm tug at the back of your head. Cheeks flushed visibly. “Poor baby, you need him now do you?” He mutters softly. Joel gazes at you. Your pretty, tear stricken face making his cock throb even harder than he knew possible.
“Even after you were such a fuckin’ brat?” You shake your head, not daring to move your hips in the slightest, in fear he might deny you. You didn’t think you could endure it any longer.
“I’m sorry—…M’sorry.” You babbled, not even sure what exactly you were begging for anymore. You just needed something, anything to ease the ache.
With a content smirk, Joel’s hands run down your back in a soothing effort.
“Keep quiet f’me?” He whispers.
Your head tips back with a groan when Joel’s cock slams hard in you once, and again.
And again. And again.
He steadies your hips with a firm grip, snapping his hips upwards to meet the effort you took to grind your hips back down. Joel leans his head back against the seat. “Shit.” He whispers.
It was bad enough he held back cumming into your tight little pussy for twenty minutes—but the way you were milking him now had him groaning in pain just to make sure you came before he did.
“Sweet girl.” He coos. A rough palm sliding upwards to hold your jaw firm, facing him. “C’mon. Can’t come without you.”
His thumb massages steadily against your clit, giving you the nudge you needed. Your palms shift to grip around his thighs. Arching your back in a way you didn’t know you even could before your entire body tenses. It doesn’t take long after for Joel to grunt with a heaving effort, flooding your pussy with his thick spend. He slides his hand down your throat, cupping around your waist to hold you against him.
The both of you remained there, panting heavily in the wake of what was possibly the best orgasms you’d had since your honeymoon.
The haze of lust was short lived when the loud sound of Tommy’s garage door opening caught your attention.
Joel laughs and you do too, he leans in to kiss the valley between your breasts up to your collarbone. You were officially a whole hour and a half late.
“Think they’ll ever invite us again?”
“Not a chance in hell.”
#joel miller#joel miller x reader#joel miller smut#joel x reader#joel miller x y/n#joel the last of us#tlou fanfiction#pedro pascal#IM SO TURNT BY HUSBAND JOEL I CANT
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Rotten | cowboy!joel x f!reader
Part II
Summary: Joel just can't leave you alone, and you hate it. Rating: 18+ Explicit MDNI Word Count: 6.5k Warnings: No-Outbreak AU, banter and arguing, mentions of guns/violence, smoking, explicit language, sexual tension, brat taming, mild dubious elements, spanking, slapping, choking, rough unprotected piv sex, orgasm denial, multiple orgasms, squirting, facial/cum eating, joel doesn't really take no for an answer, lots of angst A/N: I just couldn't get enough of these two. all my love to @lotusbxtch and @mermaidgirl30 for squealing over the filth every single day with me. ride that cowboy girlies, it's worth it ;) Part I
Masterlist | Ko-Fi
Your fingers were wet from the condensation rolling off your glass of sweet tea, the steady stream of droplets splattering against your bare thighs. The day had been exhausting; the cattle were abnormally restless and decided to drift too far out in the fields. Hours riding Mac left your legs sore, and honestly, you just wanted to smoke your Marlboros and sip on your tea. With your boots kicked up on the porch railing and a cigarette between your lips, you were blissfully content.
That is, until your peace and quiet were shattered.
Dirt kicked up in the distance, and the steady rhythmic hum of an engine grew louder as it drifted closer to your house. You groaned in frustration, already knowing who to expect. Dear God, was Joel Miller relentless. You reached behind your porch chair, fingers curling around the shotgun propped up against the wood. You warned him.
His beat-up Red Chevy stopped beside your home, and you tracked his movements as he opened the door. Lifting the gun to your eye level, you aimed the barrel toward his truck. Your finger hovered over the trigger, steady and calm. Joel stepped out of the driver's seat, adjusting his belt buckle against his stomach. You wouldn’t kill him; you weren’t that mean, although it was tempting.
One quick pull of the trigger and you sent a warning shot into the side door of his truck, rupturing the metal with a resounding bang. Joel ducked down, letting out a startled grunt before turning his head to inspect the damage. Whipping head toward you, Joel stared you down with narrowed eyes.
“Fuckin’ Christ,” he huffed. “That how y’welcome all your visitors?”
“Only the ones who piss me off!” You shouted.
Joel ran a hand down his scruff, swaying in place as if deciding whether to approach you. Do it, you thought. He made one cautious step, and you rewarded him with another cock of your shotgun, the barrel loaded and ready to fire.
“Take it easy, darlin’. I only wanted to come talk,” Joel cautioned, his hands raised in defeat.
“S’nothin’ to fuckin’ talk about, Miller,” you said, your eye squinting down the barrel line.
Each step of his cowboy boots crunched the earth below, slow steps progressing forward. Joel walked to the edge of the porch; his shoulders hiked to his ears and arms still raised as if he were approaching a wild bull. Serves him right to be scared of you. You may have let him get the best of you the first time around, but you wouldn’t let that happen again.
“Can y’put the damn gun down, darlin’?” He barked.
“Can y’take your ass back to your side of the pasture?” You tossed back.
The closer he got, the clearer his features became; the scruffy graying beard with small bare patches against his jawline, the worry lines deeply etched into his tan skin, and those damn brown eyes that plagued your thoughts night and day. You still thought about how soft they were when he looked at you before he left the stables, a kindness that flickered through the amber specks and filtered out that rage. It was truly unfair that such an insufferable man could be so damn handsome.
Joel’s boots knocked against the first step of the stairs, and your grip tightened around the shotgun. His eyes tracked your fingers as they flexed around the metal, your knuckles tense.
“I ain’t take you for the murderin’ type,” he said cooley.
“Reckon you don’t know much ‘bout me to be assumin’ that. Who knows, maybe I got myself a pile of bodies lyin’ in the grass behind my house.”
A low chuckle rumbled through his chest as he advanced another step, still testing the waters with you. You rocked back in your chair, propping the heel of your boot on the railing for stability.
“Wanna show me all them dead bodies then, darlin’? Prove that you’re not all bark and no bite?” He smirked.
You angled the shotgun past the side of his head and sent a shot flying out into the yard. Joel flinched hard enough to knock himself into the stair railing, his weight jostling the porch. With a coy grin, you lowered the gun an inch and shrugged your shoulders.
“Can’t show ya’ if you’re dead,” you grinned.
Joel lunged at you, ripping the gun from your hand and tossing it feet away from you. He gripped the back of your chair and drew his face closer, his pupils dilating the longer he glared at you. Rolling your tongue across your teeth, you raised your hand to his neck, drifting it up the scruff under his jaw. A shallow breath exhaled from his lips, and he stared at you in anticipation. Oh, he thought you were going to kiss him? Cute.
With a quick snap of your wrist, you smacked your hand across his cheek before shoving him out of your face. Joel barely moved an inch, your hands smacking into solid muscle that wouldn’t budge. All that softness in his eyes was displaced with an unmistakable sense of rage, his friendliness shattering away as his cheek flushed from the impact.
“Now y’done pissed me off, you fuckin’ brat,” Joel snarled.
His hand shot out to your throat, yanking you from your porch chair and to your feet. His grip was hardly as tight as last time but still forceful enough to render you powerless. Your eyes flickered toward the gun across the porch, so far out of reach and unattainable. You should have shot him when you had the chance.
“Be a good girl and invite me in,” Joel ordered, nodding toward your front door.
You wagged your head back and forth, your lips curled up and ready to spew venom. Joel only brought your face closer, his upper lip twitching under his mustache.
“Do it. Now. Or I swear to God, I’ll make last time look like a goddamn walk in the park.”
“Surprised y’got any sex drive left in you, old man,” you gasped, his fingers tightening around your neck.
“Christ, you fuckin’ infuriate me,” Joel grumbled.
He used his grip on your neck to propel your feet backward, guiding you toward your front door and over the threshold. The heel of your boot snagged on the lip of the door, sending you flailing back, only for him to grab you by the waist and yank you forward into his sturdy frame.
Even with his hand wrapped around your throat, Joel had never looked more gorgeous than he did at that moment. Swimming through the rage inside his eyes was a hint of worry, as if he genuinely thought you’d stumble to the ground. The reaction time of his arm circling your waist and the small exhale of breath off his lips, a quiet I got you in his own way.
The moment dwindled as fast as it came, a flickering flame extinguished somewhere between the threshold and the entryway of your tiny farm home. Joel reverted to his aggressive tendencies, manhandling you onto your worn-down floral sofa. The springs beneath the cushions squeaked under the weight of your bodies as he pinned you down, his face a breath apart from yours.
“You ready to play nice, darlin’? Or am I gonna have to ruin that pussy again just to shut you up?” He questioned.
Your hands grazed over his torso, tracing the outline of his soft stomach and over the buttons traveling up toward the collar of his shirt. You watched Joel’s eyes flutter closed for the briefest moment, only to fly wide open as you sunk your nails into the hair at the nape of his neck. You tugged hard on his salt and pepper hair, enough so that his neck strained back.
“Get the fuck off me, Joel,” you seethed, the words snarling out between your teeth.
“We both know that ain’t fuckin’ happenin’.”
Joel wrangled you over and onto your stomach, his hand still firmly clasped around your throat. He quickly caged your legs in between his muscular thighs, molding your body into the sofa cushions. Half your face was smothered into the dingy couch, your hair tossed in streaks over your eyes and clouding your vision. With his free hand, Joel cupped the curve of your ass, his fingers digging into the flesh that peaked out beneath the cut-off of the denim.
“Y’still got my handprints branded into your ass, darlin?” Joel asked.
He didn’t care to know the answer as he smacked his hand down, the bite of his skin against the fabric sending electric jolts of pain up your spine. Truth was, the bruises he left were still there—yellow, horrid welts that were a ceaseless reminder of last time. You wouldn’t ever admit it, but sometimes you found yourself in the mirror tracing the outline of his fingerprints, fantasizing about his hands on your body.
“Answer me,” Joel commanded.
“Fuck you,” you said, your voice muffled into the couch.
“Always gotta have an attitude, don’t you?”
Joel’s hand connected with your ass again, this time hard enough to elicit a small whimper from your lips. You could deny it all you wanted, but it was making you unbearably wet. You squirmed under his grip, finding some sort of relief within the friction of your shorts. Joel caught onto your movements and chuckled at your lost efforts.
“Got you all riled up, huh? This sweet lil’ pussy need takin’ care of?”
He cupped your sex through your jeans, the roughness of his hand spurring you on even more—stupid body for responding the way it did to this man. Joel pressed his fingers against the seam of the denim, finding your swollen clit hidden beneath. You exhaled loudly, your body sagging further into the cushions as he rubbed rough circles over the aching bundle of nerves.
“Right there, darlin’? That feel good for you?” Joel taunted.
“Mhmm,” you whined.
“You wanna cum for me?”
You sunk your teeth into your bottom lip, holding back the plea for release. Joel knew what he was doing; he knew you wouldn’t beg. You were too stubborn and too defiant to ever beg for it. At least, not again. But his fingers worked faster—harder—keeping you on the edge of ecstasy the longer you stayed silent.
“C’mon,” he urged. “Ask nicely, and I’ll let you cum.”
You turned your head into the sofa, burying your face into the cushions as you let out a frustrated cry. Fuck this man. Fuck his ability to turn you pliant and easy. Your body bucked against his hand as he worked at you in tantalizing movements, the friction of his palm against your sex becoming dizzying.
“Please,” you muttered, your voice muffled and quiet.
Joel’s hand unwound from your neck, taking its place within the tresses of your hair. A swift tug back, and your eyes strained to meet his as he loomed over you.
“I didn’t hear you,” he growled.
You swallowed thickly, trying to form another plea, but you couldn’t make a sound. Joel tugged on your hair harder, enough to make you cry at the pain. Your nails dug into the couch, and you managed a small please through a strangled moan.
“Too bad, darlin’. Bratty lil sluts don’t get to cum. I just wanted to hear y’beg for it.”
He released his grip on your head, shoving you back down. You groaned in frustration as his hand vanished from between your legs. The couch shifted beneath you as Joel rose to his feet, wandering around your living room and into your kitchen.
“Where’s your smokes?” He asked, rifling through the drawers as if he owned the place.
You lifted yourself, stretching your neck and detangling your hair with your fingers. Your clit painfully throbbed against your panties, your core still fluttering from the phantom orgasm that never came. Joel continued his search, slamming drawers shut and opening cupboards without a care in the world as if he didn’t just have you pinned down and begging for release. The temptation to run out and grab your gun was thrumming inside your veins; just one shot and you’d be free of him. Joel glanced up at the exact moment you shot to your feet, gunning for the door.
“Don’t even think about it, darlin’,” Joel warned.
“You expect me to let you roam ‘round my house uninvited?” You questioned.
“I expect you to be a good host and find me a damn cigarette,” he snapped.
“Well, they’re on my porch. So, if you’ll let me leave for a damn second, I can bring you one.”
Joel leaned against the kitchen counter, considering you with eyes narrowed. You folded your arms over your chest and stared at him, both of you in a silent showdown. With a lift of his chin, he motioned for you to go ahead and retrieve them. Disappearing out onto the porch, you scooped up your pack of reds and lighter, lingering an extra moment as you considered the gun lying on the ground.
“I’m waitin’!” He called from inside.
“Christ, I fuckin’ hate you,” you said, walking back into the house.
Joel had made himself all too comfortable on your couch, his legs spread open and arm lazily draped over the back cushion. You immediately noticed the bulge in his jeans, a telltale sign that he was just as worked up as you were. Tough fucking luck. If he wouldn’t get you off, you wouldn’t help him either.
“Y’ hate me, huh?” Joel asked, his lips curving into a smug grin.
You didn’t respond as you smacked the bottom of the cigarette carton against your palm. Joel flicked his fingers, urging you closer, yet you stayed planted to the ground.
“Gonna give me one of those, darlin’?”
“Why should I?” You huffed. “Y’come into my home uninvited and act like you own the damn place. Actin’ all demandin’ and rude.”
Joel let out a low whistle, rolling his neck back and forth. You continued smacking the carton, your lips set in a firm line.
“What’s rude is tryna kill someone who only came to talk. So, come here and sit.”
“And if I don’t wanna?”
“For one goddamn minute, can y’just not be so fuckin’ stubborn?” Joel huffed.
“Fine.”
You strode toward the couch, aiming to sit beside Joel, only to have him wrap an arm around your waist and pull you into his lap. Your thighs pressed against his as you settled into his body, the rugged muscles of his legs flexing beneath you. You were too close to him, too aware of the way his eyes sparkled with rich amber flecks in this nearness. Joel studied you without an ounce of anger as if none of what had happened between you ever existed. It made it terribly hard to continue hating him when he looked at you that way.
“Y’gonna be a good girl and give me a smoke now?” Joel asked.
Rolling your eyes, you removed a cigarette from the carton, offering it to him. Joel only shrugged, parting his lips ever so slightly to invite it into his awaiting mouth. Your fingers brushed against the scruff of his jaw as you placed it between his lips, his mouth quirked up in satisfaction.
“You trust me with a light?” You questioned.
Joel squeezed your waist softly, his other arm still thrown across the couch. You twirled the lighter between your fingers, your thumb rolling over the sparkwheel haphazardly. One good flick of the lighter, and you could send him up in flames—burn your whole house down with him inside, and you’d finally be at peace. He was a ceaseless man with little regard for you or your damn peace, and you were growing tired of entertaining him.
“Light it,” he ordered, the cigarette hanging between his teeth.
You sparked the flame, letting the heat of it ripple over your skin as you brought it to the butt of the cig. The tip ignited with a flicker of embers, the cherry end burning bright as Joel took a long drag. He lifted his hand from the couch—still keeping one firm on your body—and situated the cigarette between two fingers.
“Wanna tell me where y’learned to shoot like that?” He asked, his head tilted to the side.
“My parents. They taught me everything I know,” you admitted.
“Everythin’ aside from manners,” Joel countered.
“Shut up,” you snapped. “I ain’t gonna sit here and let you speak of my parents like that.”
You didn’t like talking about them; the reminder of their absence was sometimes too much to bear. You had so many responsibilities thrown onto your shoulders when they died, and although you took those responsibilities willingly, it didn’t quell the grief still lingering. You didn’t have your parents anymore, but you had their land to care for and their wishes to uphold.
Joel took a sharp inhale from the cigarette, letting the smoke plume between your faces. The stench of smoke was something comforting to you, always had been, but coming from his mouth, it pissed you off.
“Hey, now,” he said softly. “Was only kiddin’, darlin’. Didn’t mean to strike a nerve.”
“Your entire presence strikes a fuckin’ nerve, Joel. Why are y’even here?”
“Like I said, I came here to talk.”
You pulled the cigarette from his lips, taking it to your own and inhaling a long drag. Joel arched a brow, watching as you hollowed your cheeks around it, the flicker of the butt burning brightly in his face.
“Then talk,” you hissed, tilting your head to exhale the smoke.
You leaned back, discarding some of the ashes against the tray on your coffee table. Joel’s hand urged you back to his chest, pinning you closer than you wished to be. You adjusted yourself on his lap, absentmindedly, shifting your body over his hardened cock. Joel choked on a breath, his fingers digging into your waist. Oh. Funny how you had all the power now.
“Talk,” you repeated, grinding your body down against his again.
“I know what you’re doin’,” Joel grumbled.
“Y’gonna talk or what, Miller? I’m waitin’.”
Joel cursed under his breath, grabbing the cigarette from your fingers and returning it to his lips. His eyes never left yours as he drew in a breath, letting the smoke linger inside his mouth a second too long before exhaling. The smoke billowed around your face, and you scrunched your nose in annoyance.
“I wanna negotiate,” Joel offered.
“No.”
It was a quick response, one without a second thought. You wouldn’t even entertain the idea of negotiations. Why? Because there was nothing to fucking negotiate. This land was yours, passed down through generations, and would remain that way. No amount of bitching and moaning from Joel would make you reconsider.
“Y’didn’t even let me finish,” Joel remarked.
“I don’t need to listen to you. I ain’t negotiating my land.”
You reached for the cigarette again, yet Joel suspended it in the air and out of reach. You glared at him, trying to grab his hand to drag it toward you. Joel’s strength outweighed yours, and he had you beat every time you tried aiming for it again. Shoving at his chest, you moved to swing a leg over his lap and climb off, but he dragged you right back to his chest. His hand roamed up your side, curving along your hip and over the swell of your breast. Cupping your face with one large hang, Joel squeezed your cheeks together and forced your lips to part.
You struggled against his grip, your eyes full of rage as you watched him take another drag of the cigarette. With your mouth partially open, he leaned close and blew the smoke over your lips and into your mouth. The fragrant odor of the smoke licked up your nose as you inhaled, your lips inches away from his. You didn’t like it. You didn’t want him close. Joel’s eyes bounced between your eyes and lips, the temptation of drawing you closer palpable in his body language. The nicotine buzzed inside your head, and you pulled away from his face right at the same moment he leaned closer.
“Don’t,” you warned, smoke exhaling from your lips.
Joel dropped his hand from your face, a clear shift in his mood arising as you watched his eyes flicker with disappointment. It was all over his face: the furrow between his brows, the downturn of his lips… He wanted to kiss you. You wouldn’t let him, though; that was too much. If he wanted to manhandle you and fuck you however he pleased, that was fine. You welcomed it, actually, because you knew one taste of his mouth, and you’d be ruined. You didn’t want intimacy with Joel, not when your family’s land was hanging in the balance. He’d reel you in with false pretenses and have you aching for more, only to tear it all away.
He cursed under his breath as he pressed his body to yours, leaning forward to discard the cigarette into the ashtray. The bulge beneath his jeans prodded your sex at this angle, eliciting a ripple of pleasure up your spine. A small gasp bubbled out of you as Joel readjusted himself beneath you.
“You don’t wanna talk?” Joel asked, raising his voice. “Fine. Better not say a damn word unless it’s my name while I fuck you.”
In a millisecond, Joel had you pinned down to the couch again, your hair splayed around you and your breath whooshing from your lungs. His fingers worked at the zipper of your jeans, yanking them down your legs and discarding them over his shoulder. Propping a knee onto the couch, Joel undid his belt buckle and freed his cock from the confines of his jeans. Precum glistened on the tip, and he stroked himself slowly as he pulled your legs apart, molding you into the position he desired.
“Only wanna hear y’scream my name. Y’understand that?” He growled.
Joel coated the head of his cock with the slick covering your folds, pushing himself in with one deep thrust. You groaned, squeezing your eyes shut as your body adjusted to his size. This angle was so much different than last time, and you could feel every vein and ridge of his cock rub against your fluttering walls. You focused on your breathing while he plunged deeper, breaking you open and fucking into you with hard thrusts.
Caressing the back of your knee, Joel drew your leg up and over his shoulder, bending you in half until he was spearing into your core.
“Look at me,” he ordered.
You shook your head, whimpering at the sensation of his cock splitting you in half. Searing pain bloomed across your face as Joel’s hand connected with your cheek. Your eyes shot open, tears welling on your waterline, the sting of the pain churning into a wave of pleasure through your core. You forgot how addictive his touch could be when he was angry. His pupils swallowed the entirety of his eyes, a dark, endless abyss staring straight back at you.
“Do. You. Understand?” He grunted between thrusts.
You didn’t respond, a tear slipping down your cheek. The phantom touch of his fingers on your skin lingered still, and your clit throbbed with a sudden flurry of arousal. Joel’s hand wrapped around your jaw, forcing your mouth open. He leaned down, pressing his weight into you as his face neared yours. A trail of spit fell off his tongue and crashed into the back of your throat, and you flinched away from Joel as he pressed harder.
“Swallow, brat.”
You struggled to swallow it; your throat constricted as his grip around your jaw tightened. He plowed into you, drilling your core with violent strokes until a gargled wail left your mouth. His spit slid down your throat, and he hummed in approval.
“Good girl.”
He stretched your other leg up and over his shoulder, your ass lifting off the couch. You wanted to beg him to stop, yet nothing would leave your lips. Not even a sound as the noise of his hips slapping against yours filled the air. The thrum of your heartbeat vibrated through your chest, the pressure inside your stomach growing stronger as you propelled closer to the edge of your orgasm. Every muscle in your body grew taut, your clit aching to be touched…aching for relief from the violent flames lapping at your spine. So close. It was so close you craved for more.
Maybe you didn’t want him to stop.
“If you ain’t gonna listen to me in a normal conversation, then you’re gonna listen now,” he gritted.
You flexed your jaw under his hand, trying to shy away from his piercing stare. You didn’t want to look at him, didn’t want to listen… didn’t want anything but the opportunity to seek release. You could handle the pain—you welcomed it. The harder he fucked you, the less you had to think. And if you kept thinking, you’d drown in the consequences of your doubt. Keep him angry, you thought. Keep him the enemy. You couldn’t let him be anything more.
“I don’t want your land,” Joel punched out through clenched teeth. “Keep it. I don’t give a shit.”
The buzzing inside your skin dulled out at his words. It was so hard to focus on what he was saying when your mind was melting from the inside out, his cock driving into you with brutal speed. He didn’t want…
“What?” You choked out.
Joel’s hand clamped down on your mouth, muffling your words as he bottomed out and kept himself seated inside you. The rhythm of his thrusts stopped, and he let his hips press into yours as he stared down at your tearful face. You were so fucking full of him you couldn’t breathe.
“Listen,” he snapped.
You muffled out his name, the sound slipping through the space between his fingers. He only pressed harder, your body folded in half beneath his weight. You clenched around his cock, rocking your hips slightly to quell the need curling inside your stomach.
“I ain’t gonna take your land from you, ‘kay? All I’m askin’ for is permission to come ‘round without you tryna kill me.”
No. The word was lost inside the palm of his hand. You wanted your land, and you wanted Joel gone. You didn’t trust him when he said he didn’t want your land. How could you trust him when he had you pinned to the sofa?
“This is what’s gonna happen,” Joel offered, snaking a free hand down between your legs. “You’re gonna agree with me and let me come and go as I please. Then maybe I’ll let you cum.”
Calloused fingers circled your clit, forcing a cry from your mouth. Tantalizing, slow draws over your sensitive bud pulled desperate sounds out of you, each one of them stifled against his warm hand. Joel worked himself into shallow thrusts, pulling out to the tip and driving right back into you. You couldn’t fend off the orgasm bubbling under the surface, the nerves inside you lighting on fire.
“Please!” You screamed between his fingers.
Joel’s lips twisted into a sneer, beads of sweat rolling down his temples as he pressed his fingers harder against your clit. Your eyes glossed over with fresh tears as you fought off the impending release rolling through your body.
“Say it.”
Your back arched off the couch as you chased the strokes of Joel’s fingers. Circling and circling… You were so close to the threshold of ecstasy, and you knew he’d tear it away from you if you didn’t relent.
Joel ripped his hand from your mouth, tangling in the hair at the crown of your head. He forced your eyes down to where your bodies connected, your focus on his cock as it disappeared inside you.
“Y’wanna cum on my cock, darlin’?” Joel taunted.
“Fuck! Please, Joel!” You gasped.
With your chin tucked into your chest, your legs dangling over his shoulders, and his cock spearing into your core… you couldn’t hold back your orgasm any longer.
“Say it!” Joel commanded.
“Okay!” You sobbed. “Just let me cum, Joel! Please!”
Joel assaulted you with a repetition of thrusts, each stronger than the last, until your orgasm exploded through your body. His name tore from your lips as your back curved off the couch and your legs squeezed around his neck. He kept his thumb circling your clit, your orgasm never ceasing to end as the inferno burned inside your core. Wet, hot arousal gushed out of you, splattering onto Joel’s navel and staining his denim shirt. His eyes flicked up to yours, a wicked grin splitting his face.
“Look at the mess you’re makin’. Just drenchin’ my fuckin’ cock.”
“Joel!” You whined, squirming against his hand.
“Nuh uh, darlin’. Wanna see how messy y’can get. Keep goin’.”
He released his grip on your hair, forcing your head to fall against the arm of the sofa. Shuffling his knees forward, Joel continued his brutal thrusts until your arousal sprayed around his cock and dripped down the seam of your ass. There wasn’t enough air in your lungs as you alternated between screaming his name and begging him to stop.
“Since y’wanted to cum so goddamn bad, you’re gonna keep takin’ my fuckin’ cock ‘til you ruin this damn couch,” Joel grunted.
You were crying… hard. Your mind was on the precipice of hysteria as waves of your orgasm bolted through your veins. Lewd sounds of his body slapping against your wetness echoed through the room, the cushion beneath you soaked from your arousal. You attempted to claw yourself backward and away from Joel, but his grip was violent, and he only yanked you closer.
“I can’t—I can’t anymore!” you sobbed. “Please, Joel…please.”
“Gimmie one more,” he demanded.
You shook your head in protest, your sobs hiccuping inside your chest. Your core was too fucked out, your clit was painfully sensitive, and you were sitting in a pool of your arousal. How did Joel manage to turn the events of the day around in his favor? You had control at the start—you had the gun— but now he had you folded in half and strewn out in a heap of tears.
“I can’t!” You wailed. “Too much—too much…”
“Poor thing,” Joel taunted. “Always beggin’ for it but can’t take it.”
You writhed beneath him, your body twisting and bending to alleviate the painful sensations rolling through your nerve endings. This was it; this was how you died. Drunk on pleasure and torn apart by the man you wanted to hate.
Another orgasm tore through your body, consuming you from the inside out. Your scream pierced through the air, and you collapsed into the cushions, soaked with sweat and tears. Joel made a strangled noise above you as your sex clamped down around his cock, no doubt pulsating harder than it had the last several orgasms. His cock slipped from inside you, leaving you hollow and aching to be filled again. Your body craved the fullness, yet you sagged with relief knowing he stopped.
“C’mere,” Joel grunted.
He slung your legs off his shoulders and yanked you down the couch by your ankle. Positioned over your face, Joel stroked his cock above you, his fingers glistening from the arousal that stuck to his velvety skin.
“Open that fuckin’ mouth, darlin',” Joel urged.
Your head was so hazy you hardly registered his words. Parting your lips, you whined softly and stared at him…waiting. Joel’s eyes connected with yours, that deep furrow in his brow more prominent than before. Rage still sparked behind his eyes, but in your delirium, you saw more. You saw right past his facade, just as he saw right past yours. Whatever terror etched itself into your features, it caught his attention, but he was painting your lips and face with his release before he could decipher it. Hot ropes of cum spattered against your lips, the salty taste covering your tongue as it trailed into your mouth. Remnants of his release coated your chin and neck, warm reminders of his futile efforts at staking his claim.
He hadn’t claimed you, no matter how hard he fucked you. You wouldn’t let him claim you. And you most certainly wouldn’t let him claim your land.
Joel slid his finger through the mess along your neck, scooping his cum onto the pad of his finger and dragging it across your lips.
“So fuckin’ pretty all covered in my cum,” he praised.
“Fuck you,” you whispered, though your words meant shit, as you rolled your tongue over your bottom lip.
Joel gave you a soft grin, smoothing down your hair and cleaning the mess off your face with one hand. The same hand that had inflicted pain just moments ago, the hand that brought you to release more times than you could physically endure.
But now the touch was soft—caring, even. And that frightened you more than the violence he showed when he was provoked. It was this side of Joel that made you scared, and you wanted to run as far from it as you could.
“Let’s get you up, darlin’,” Joel said, hoisting you by the shoulders until you sat under his shadow.
He massaged your legs as you swung them over the couch, attempting to relieve the tension within your muscles. You shrunk away, standing on unbalanced limbs, and distanced yourself from his wandering hands.
“I need a shower,” you decided. “Y’can see yourself out.”
“I ain’t done talkin’ to you.”
“Well, I’m done fuckin’ talking!” You argued.
You spun on your heel, your hands clenched at your sides. Joel’s eyes stayed focused on you as he worked at stuffing his cock back into his jeans. Half-naked before him, you felt a million times smaller than you had when he arrived.
“Why are you so hateful?” He questioned, rising to his feet.
Your lips curled up, a slew of spiteful words dancing on the tip of your tongue. But Joel wasn’t finished.
“This is your land,” he said, stepping closer. “I ain’t gonna argue that anymore ‘cause it’s a lost cause. And I ain’t tryna steal it from you. I can promise you that.” Another step closer. “So, why do y’hate the idea of me comin’ around?”
“Because I hate you,” you responded.
“You hate me, huh? Is that how y’feel ‘bout me when I’m pullin’ orgasms from your body? ‘Cause I think you fuckin’ love it. You love bein’ fucked by me. You get me all riled up ‘cause y’know what’s comin’ for you.”
“I hate you,” you repeated.
Joel lifted his hand to your face, cupping your cheek with a featherlike touch. You wanted to shy away, but you were too tired to move.
“I don’t think y’hate me at all, darlin’,” he whispered.
He leaned closer, placing a kiss on your forehead. You squeezed your eyes shut, holding off another round of tears brimming over the surface. Pushing your hands against his chest, you shoved Joel away, your body staggering back with the force of your action.
“Get the hell outta my house,” you cried, no longer keeping the tears at bay.
Joel stared at you with a pained expression, his eyes searching through your glassy eyes for the falter within your words. He didn’t budge; he didn’t move an inch. You shoved at his chest again, but it was no use as he wrangled you into his arms and lifted your chin to meet his eyes.
“When are you gonna quit fightin’ me?” He asked softly.
It was a sincere question; you saw it swimming behind the rich chocolate of his irises. Pleading. Begging. He wanted the truth, but you wouldn’t give in. You couldn’t.
“I’ll quit fightin’ when y’learn to leave me alone.”
“What if I don’t wanna?”
He was a breath away from your lips, the rich scent of farmland wafting off his skin as it mixed with the smell of sex. It was intoxicating being this close—close enough to wonder what his lips would feel like on yours. While your body ached for him in one way, your heart ached differently. It was an ache you wanted to keep fighting because the moment you lost that battle, you’d lose everything.
“I don’t want you comin’ here anymore, Joel.”
“Why?” he pressed.
Silence blanketed over you, weighing down the words lodged in your throat. The rapid beating of your heart matched his as he kept you tight to his chest. You were suffocated by the emotions you couldn’t say, and you were slowly sinking further down.
You struggled against the arm that bound around your waist, helplessly trying to break free of his hold. He finally relented in defeat, letting you shuffle back until there was a healthy gap between your bodies. Running a hand down the scruff on his chin, Joel gave you a simple nod and retreated toward the front door.
“Until you can give me a reason, I’m gonna keep comin’ back.”
He left without a glance over his shoulder, the room around you shrinking in size without his presence looming over you. Searching for your shorts, you quickly dressed and hid behind the window curtains as you watched his truck rumble to life and speed down the dirt roads. There was no goodbye between you, and you knew there wouldn’t be. Joel wasn’t giving up, no matter how hard you pushed him away, and eventually, he’d win.
And you hated knowing the truth.
**
Behind the billowing dirt trail of his truck, Joel watched as your house faded from view. His knuckles were white around the steering wheel as he thought about the way he left. He was doing this for fun; at least, that’s what it felt like at the start. Getting on your nerves, pissing you off, seeing you completely unraveled underneath his hands, Joel loved it. He loved the thrill of having you tamed down and quiet, compliant to anything he asked and did.
Then he had you pinned underneath him, and he saw the fear in your eyes. You weren’t scared of him. You were scared of the emotions electrifying between the both of you. Then you pulled away from him, denying him any affection, and he fucking hated it.
He couldn’t understand why you got under his skin the way you did, nor why he cared so much. It wasn’t supposed to end up this way, yet Joel wanted to keep tearing down your walls. He wanted to hear you tell him the truth.
He wasn’t going to stop until he got it.
#joel miller#joel miller fanfic#joel miller x f!reader#joel miller x reader#joel x f!reader#joel x reader#tlou#cowboy!joel#no outbreak!joel miller#no outbreak au#smut#mini series#joel miller smut#joel miller tlou
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'The other side of the door'
Not outbreak!Joel Miller x f!reader
summary: Joel is giving you the silent treatment until you come back home hurt, and he wasn't there.
w.c: idk.
warnings: angst, miscommunication, mentions of a broken arm, fluff.
a/n: this is me after having an outburst about not writing again. If this flops I will have another one and I'll take a break forever. Reblogs and comments are always appreciated 💌
dividers by: @/saradika-graphics
It was 2 a.m., and you were sobbing on the cold bathroom floor like a little girl, asking for her mother to kiss the tears away. The pain on your now broken arm was unbearable, but the stillness in your heart was worse, enveloped in a shirt that belonged to your brother-in-law instead of your boyfriend because he didn’t pick up the phone after the officers called him.
Instead, Tommy picked you up, rushing to you the moment he saw you by the ambulance with a sling around your left side and a bandage on your forehead.
“Oh my god! Are you okay? Where is Joel?” He said something, touching your face for some sort of answer, but you stopped listening to him after Joel’s name was mentioned.
“I don’t know where Joel is.” You said it monotonously.
Tommy's face paled as he realized the gravity of the situation. "It's going to be alright; we'll find him," he said, though his voice trembled with uncertainty.
“He didn’t pick up the phone,” you said again. “He hasn’t talked to me in a week, Tommy.”
“My brother can be grumpy sometimes; you know him,” he said, trying to find a way to make you smile, but you felt just ashamed.
You didn’t mean to be hit by a car on the on the way home, but everything happened so fast, and your mind was everywhere but focused on the road ahead of you.
“What if I call him?” he offered.
“He turned off the phone after my call,” you said, standing up slowly with the help of the paramedic.
Tommy helped you into the backseat of his truck, making sure you were secure before he slid into the driver’s seat. The drive to your house was quiet, save for your occasional wince of pain and Tommy’s sighs of worry. He kept glancing at you through the rearview mirror, his concern evident.
Once home, Tommy guided you inside, supporting your weight gently. He settled you on the couch and handed you a glass of water. "You need to rest," he said softly. "I’m sure you both will figure this out in the morning."
You nodded weakly, too exhausted to argue. The pain in your arm was a constant reminder of the accident, but the ache in your heart was a dull, persistent throb. You clutched Joel’s shirt tighter around you, its familiar scent providing a small comfort.
“Do you want me to stay here and beat him once he arrives?” He asked jokingly, making you smile for a mere second.
“No, I don’t think that’s necessary,” you said, managing a weak smile despite the situation. “But thank you, Tommy.”
He chuckled softly, sitting down beside you. “I just want to make sure you’re okay. Joel can be stubborn, but he loves you. I’m sure he’ll come around.”
You leaned your head back, closing your eyes for a moment. The exhaustion was overwhelming, but sleep was still a distant hope.
Tommy stayed with you for a little while longer, making sure you were comfortable. He adjusted the pillows around you and tucked the blanket more securely. "You should get some sleep," he said gently. "I'll stay until you do."
You nodded, too tired to argue, but you couldn't shake the feeling of emptiness. You tried to focus on the comforting presence of Tommy, the warmth of Joel's shirt, and the hope that things would be better in the morning.
Eventually, Tommy rose from the couch. "I'm going to head out now. You can call me if you need anything, okay?"
You managed a small nod. "Thanks, Tommy. I really appreciate it."
He gave you a reassuring smile, though the worry never left his eyes. "Get some rest. We’ll figure everything out in the morning." He squeezed your shoulder gently before heading to the door.
You listened to the sound of the door closing and the silence that followed. The house felt impossibly quiet and empty. The weight of the evening pressed down on you, and tears welled up in your eyes again.
There was Joel’s shirt on the couch, and you clutched it tighter with your left arm, breathing in the faint scent of him. The memories of the accident replayed in your mind—the screeching tires, the impact, the confusion. But what hurt the most was Joel’s absence, his phone turned off, and the uncertainty of where he was or why he hadn’t answered.
You stood up, walking upstairs towards your and Joel’s bedroom, but instead of lying on the bed, you walked to the bathroom, closing the door behind you, and slid down, sitting on the floor. Tears began to flow down your cheeks.
Joel wasn't home. Now that you needed him, he was out somewhere, still avoiding you.
You sat on the cold bathroom floor, your back against the door, and let the tears flow freely. The pain in your arm was nothing compared to the ache in your heart. You felt abandoned, hurt, and utterly alone.
As the minutes passed, you lost track of time, consumed by the overwhelming sadness. The sound of your sobs echoed off the tiled walls, and you didn’t hear the faint sound of a key turning in the front door or the footsteps on the stairs.
Joel moved through the house with a growing sense of urgency, the emptiness and silence amplifying his fear. It wasn't until he stepped inside the bedroom that he heard you wiping from the bedroom.
Gently, he opened the door and saw you sitting on the cold floor, clutching to your own arm and sobbing uncontrollably. The sight broke his heart, and he immediately kneeled beside you, his presence startling you from your sorrow.
"What the hell happened?" he asked softly, ignoring your plea. He didn’t understand why you were this hurt when, in the morning, you were perfectly fine.
"Go." You whispered, ashamed of yourself for being hurt and crying.
"Now you want to talk?" you asked, standing up carefully and using the wall for support.
Joel reached out to steady you, his touch gentle but firm. "Please, just tell me what happened," he said, his voice filled with concern.
You took a deep breath, trying to steady your emotions. "I was hit by a car on my way home. It happened so fast, and I was so scared. The officers called you, but you didn't answer. Tommy came instead."
Joel's face paled, his eyes widening with shock and guilt. "I had no idea. My phone died, and I was out of town.”
You could see the sincerity in his eyes, but the hurt and anger you felt couldn’t be ignored. "You haven't talked to me in a week, Joel. I needed you, and you weren't there."
Joel's shoulders slumped, and he looked down, his voice barely above a whisper. "I know. I’ve been a fool, and I’m so sorry. I let my pride get in the way, and I hurt you because of it. Please, let me make it right."
You looked at him, and the regret was evident on his face. It mirrored your own feelings, and slowly, the anger began to melt away, replaced by a longing for things to be better. "I just needed you," you repeated, your voice trembling.
Joel took a step closer, his eyes filled with tears. "I'm here now. I promise, I’ll never let you down again.”
"You didn't seem to care about me for the last week, Joel."
"Lo—"
"Don't you dare call me that now. I'm mad at you," you interrupted, your eyes flashing with anger.
Joel looked stricken, his mouth opening and closing as he searched for the right words. "I know I messed up. I know I've been distant, and I'm so sorry. But please believe me, I do care about you more than anything."
You took a step back, needing space to think and process everything. "If you care so much, why did you ignore me? Why did you shut me out over missing dinner?"
His heart broke at the sight of you, staring away from him with dried tears on your cheeks. He didn't have words left to make this better, nor a way to ask for forgiveness or soothe your heart after breaking it without real intention behind it.
He was angry at you for missing the dinner, and he wanted to get it back at you.
But this? This wasn't what he wanted.
"I can't say how sorry I am," Joel continued, his voice cracking.
"Well, don't say it then," you snapped back.
"Love—"
“No! I'm tired, and everything hurts. My arm is broken, and I feel so humiliated right now. I just want to go to sleep,” you cried out, the words pouring out in a torrent of emotion.
"Okay, let me help you,” he said, reaching out to touch your shoulder, but you stepped back from him.
"No, everything you have done for the past week makes me cry," you said, the weight of your words hanging in the air. "You make me cry," you sobbed into your hand, trying to sweep the tears away.
Lifting your gaze, you looked at Joel, who seemed to be conflicted. His brown eyes, now glassy with unshed tears, almost made you give in.
"Could you please sleep in the guest room tonight?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.
Joel's face fell, but he nodded slowly, understanding the need for space. "Okay," he said softly. "I'll be in the guest room. If you need anything, anything at all, just call me."
You nodded, too drained to respond further. Joel hesitated for a moment, then turned and left the room, the weight of his footsteps heavy on the floor. As he reached the bedroom, he turned towards you.
“Do you want to know why I was so mad at you for missing that dinner?” He asked, his voice low and filled with a mix of regret and vulnerability.
You looked at him, the exhaustion and pain making it hard to process everything, but you nodded slightly, curious despite yourself.
Joel took a deep breath, his eyes locking onto yours. “It wasn’t just about the dinner. It was because I had planned to ask you to marry me that night.”
The words hung in the air between you, heavy with emotion. You stared at him, the weight of his confession taking a moment to sink in. You felt your heart beating so fast.
“Joel,” you started, your voice trembling. “I had no idea.”
“I know,” he said softly. “And that’s on me. I should have talked to you instead of shutting you out. I’ve been a fool, and I’m so sorry for everything.”
The revelation left you feeling even more conflicted. The pain of the past week, the accident, and now this. You didn’t know how to respond, so you simply nodded, feeling the tears welling up again.
Joel took a step back, giving you space, but not without planting a gentle kiss on your forehead, just next to the bandage. “Goodnight,” he said gently, before turning and walking to the guest room.
After that, you lay down, clutching Joel's pillow tightly against your chest, the familiar scent providing a small comfort amidst the chaos of your emotions. As you closed your eyes, the weight of the day slowly began to lift.
The night dragged on, each minute feeling like an eternity. You tossed and turned in bed, unable to find comfort. The weight of Joel's confession and the emotional turmoil of the past week kept you from sleeping peacefully. The silence of the house was deafening, and the pain in your arm felt almost secondary to the ache in your heart.
Around 3 a.m., unable to bear the loneliness any longer, you decided to go to the guest room. Moving slowly and carefully, you made your way down the hallway, each step mindful of your broken arm. The pain was a constant reminder of the day’s events, but the burning desire to be near Joel overpowered it.
You opened the guest room door quietly, the creak of the hinges making you wince slightly. Joel was lying on the bed, his back turned to you. You carefully slipped into the room, trying not to disturb him too much. The guest bed was slightly too small, but you managed to settle in beside him, positioning yourself so as not to jostle your arm too much.
Joel stirred, his eyes fluttering open. He blinked, his gaze shifting to you. Confusion and surprise crossed his face as he saw you lying next to him. He sat up, pushing himself on one elbow, his brow furrowed in concern.
“What are you doing here?” he asked softly, his voice still heavy with sleep.
You shifted slightly to face him, your voice barely above a whisper. “I couldn’t sleep... I needed to be close to you.”
Joel’s eyes softened, and he reached out carefully, his hand brushing against your cheek. “Are you okay? Does your arm hurt?”
“It hurts,” you admitted, your voice trembling. “But I just needed to be near you, to feel like everything might be okay.”
Joel nodded, understanding the depth of your need. “I’m sorry for everything,” he said again, though his tone was gentler this time. “I know I’ve hurt you, and I’ll do everything I can to make it right. Please, just let me be here for you.”
You reached out and took his hand, feeling curiosity creeping up. “About the proposal,” you began. “Are you planning to ask me soon?”
Joel's eyes softened, and he looked at you with a mixture of hope and vulnerability. “I was planning to ask you that night,” he admitted, his voice low and filled with regret. “But now I don’t feel like I deserve you.”
You searched his face, seeing the sincerity in his eyes.
Joel took a deep breath, his expression serious yet tender. “Now, I want to make sure we’re in a good place before I ask you. I want it to be right, and I don’t want to rush into it just to fix things. But I can’t deny that I’ve been thinking about it a lot.”
You smiled softly in the darkness, your heart swelling with emotion. “I would love for you to ask me now,” you whispered.
Joel chuckled softly, a sound that was warm and comforting in the quiet of the night. “Even with the broken arm?” he asked, his voice light with affection.
You nodded, your smile widening. “Even with the broken arm, I know we have things to work through, but I’d still say yes.”
Joel’s laughter was gentle, filled with relief and affection. “You never cease to amaze me,” he said, brushing a gentle kiss against your forehead. “Alright, then. I promise that when the time is right, I’ll ask you properly. For now, let’s focus on getting better and being here for each other.”
You nestled closer to him, feeling the comfort of his embrace. “I don’t need a fancy proposal in a fancy restaurant, Joel. I just want you,” you said softly.
Joel’s expression softened even more, his hand gently stroking your hair. “And you have me,” he said, his voice filled with sincerity. “No matter what, I’m here for you. We’ll get through this together, and when the time is right, we’ll take the next step together too.”
You let out a small, playful sigh. “Okay, if there isn’t a ring on my breakfast tomorrow, I’ll be mad,” you joked, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips.
Joel laughed softly, the sound a comforting balm to your troubled heart. “I’ll keep that in mind,” he said, his tone light but warm.
He took a deep breath, his gaze steady and sincere. “So, would you like to marry me?” he asked softly, his eyes searching yours for a response.
The question hung in the air, tender and unexpected. You looked at him, your heart swelling with emotion. The warmth and love you felt in that moment made it clear that you were ready to take that next step.
With a smile that spoke of both relief and joy, you nodded. “Yes, Joel. I would love to marry you.”
Joel’s face lit up with a mixture of happiness and relief. He pulled you into a gentle embrace, his arms wrapping around you with tenderness to avoid hurting your broken arm. “I’m so glad,” he murmured into your hair. “We’ll make it work, I promise.”
You snuggled closer to him, the sense of security and love filling you with a peaceful calm. As you closed your eyes, the laughter and playful banter gave way to a hopeful, contented sleep, wrapped in the warmth of his presence and the promise of a future together.
#joel miller x reader#joel miller x you#joel miller x y/n#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller x f!reader#pedro pascal character fanfiction#joel miller series#the last of us fanfiction#joel miller#joel miller imagine#joel miller angst#tlou fanfiction#joel the last of us#joel x reader#Joel Miller#pedro pascal x reader#pedro pascal fanfiction#the last of us#pedro pascal imagine#pedro pascal
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Knuckle Deep in the Backseat (Joel Miller x Fem! reader smut)
rating: 18+
word count: 3k
summary: Joel convinced you to learn how to drive and offers to teach you, but ends up in the back seat with you.
warning: Smut, age gap (Joel is in his 50s, reader is in 20s). Fingering, dirty talk, Daddy kink, pet names, car sex, established relationship.
A/N: Title is inspired but causal by Chappell Roan but the fic has nothing to do with the song. This actually was in my draft since last year and was "finished" but it needed work lol.
The sun is barely up bit its still too bright, and the birds are chirping too loudly. You can feel the crisp fall air as you stand outside. You hated being up this early. You don’t even remember how Joel got you to wake up this early. Joel knew you weren't a morning person, but he had convinced you with shitty coffee to practice driving after finding a couple of gas cans. Said it might come in handy, and he doesn’t want you to be unprepared. The thought was sweet, but waking you up at 7:00 a.m. wasn’t. You figured it would be later in the day like 12pm not the ass crack of dawn. You followed him to the truck, your eyebrows frowning due to how early it was.
“Good morning, baby. ‘You ready to drive? I woke you up ages ago. What took you so long?”
Joel greets you with a big smile. He's leaning against the old truck, way more energetic than you are. Over the years, he’s gotten used to waking up early, which you didn’t understand. You hated how chipper he was in the morning; you couldn’t relate. You’d be lucky if you rolled out of bed before noon.
You walk up to him, flipping him off before taking the coffee from his hand. He laughs and watches as you take a sip of coffee. You walk to the driver's side of the car, and he follows behind you. You watch as he opens the door and starts hot-wiring the car to start it.
You see him standing next to an old four-door black truck, holding the coffee he had promised, smiling. “You know I used to have a truck like this; it was black—” You nod, staring at him, not really listening to him go on about his old pre end of the world truck he used to own. You're still trying to wake up, zoning out a bit. You stare at him briefly, and he realizes that you haven't been listening.
He stops rambling about the mileage he had on his old truck and the deal he got on it. “You ever drove one of these before?” he asked, even though he already knew the answer. You give him a deadpanned stare, narrowing your eyes,
“And when would I have driven one of these, Joel? Considering most cars stopped working about 20 years ago.” You knew you were being cranky, but you didn’t appreciate being up before noon if your life wasn’t depending on it.
He looks up from hot wiring, mumbling under his breath, “fucking smart ass” You roll you’re eyes and watch as he continues messing with wires until you hear the car turns on; you stare at him as he walks around.
His ass looks particularly good in his jeans as he walks around the truck to get into the passenger seat. Normally, you would try to make your staring more subtly, but it was hard since you’re barely awake; he just looked so good. The greying hair, his pretty brown eyes, the wrinkles around his forehead from frowning for the last 20 years, the cuts around his face, his muscles peeking through his shirt sleeves. You’re broken out of your trance when you hear his deep Texas voice that had lured you out here in the first place.
“Are you gonna stand there and check me out all day, or are you gonna get your ass in the car.”
You stop daydreaming, his words snapping you out of your semi-dirty thoughts. You walk to the car and get into the driver’s seat. You’re sitting in the driver's seat as he asks, “Ok, so tell me what you remember.”
“Well, not much, considering the last time I was in a car that worked, I was a toddler,” You answer again sarcastically, rolling your eyes, still cranky and grumpy.
Joel turns his head to look at you, narrowing his eyes at your snark. He knows it usually takes a good 30 minutes or so for you to be yourself when he woke you up early, but today, you seemed extra grumpy.
The first time Joel woke you up early in the morning, you gave him short responses or cursed him out every other sentence all morning. It was earlier on when he met you. Joel thought you were pissed at him or that he did something, so he responded back with short responses and attitude, which led to a lot of tension the rest of the day. But after a couple of weeks of early morning runs, he saw that that was just how you are, and he eventually got used to it. He also realized that if he gave you coffee and was patient, you’d eventually wake up faster. Still, it didn't work every time, and it seemed like this was one of those mornings where you were extra cranky and a pain in the ass.
You take another sip of his coffee and sigh, realizing you were being too bitchy; you hand the coffee back to him. “I’m sorry. That was a bit much. I’ll tone it down. Promise.”
He looks at you as he puts the coffee in the cup holder, unsure if he believes you. He replies dry and sarcastically. “I'm sure you will.” He starts talking about something, but honestly, you weren’t listening, too lost in those brown eyes of his to focus on what he was saying again.
You see him motion to the thing with numbers above the steering. You know it's probably important, but you're far more interested in how good his hands look as he gestures to the different parts of the car. Fuck why did he have to be so hot?
“So, um, 20 years ago, you would’ve had to take a test and worry about a lot of different rules of the road and deal with people riding your ass, tailgating, and a lot of other shit, but um, now I guess the important thing is just getting somewhere as fast as possible isn't it? You’d probably not gonna drive often, but it's good to know.”
You nod, paying attention to his words now instead of all the dirty things you want him to do to you, trying to focus on getting ready to drive.
“Alright, you feel those two pedals down there. The one on the left is the brake, and the one on the right is the gas; you only want to use one foot while driving; you can really mess up the car if you press both at the same time. See these here are your shifts to D for drive, P for park, R for reverse.” He pauses, thinking about anything he might’ve missed, but he remembers you weren’t gonna be driving like he used to, “Thats all you really need to know.”
You watch as he explains everything to you. He tells you to put it into drive, and the car starts moving forward slightly. You shakily put your hands on the wheel, gripping it tightly, and press down the gas pedal, nervously chewing on your lip. He guides you through an old road that wasn’t too overgrown or hard to navigate. After a few minutes, you feel like you're starting to get the hang of it. You feel Joel place his hand on your thigh, resting it there. You look over at him slightly, wondering if you have messed up or done something wrong. Still, he says nothing about letting you drive, resting his hand on your thigh, and occasionally squeezing it.
“Am I doing okay?” you ask quietly as his hand continues to rest on your thigh, slowly rubbing further up your thighs. You feel his hand creep up higher and the air in the truck getting hotter as his hand makes you feel warm. You lose focus on what you are doing and feel the car drifting off the road as his hand reaches further up your shorts. You feel the arousal building in your core.
“Doin' great baby, just try to keep the wheel straight; you're drifting sideways a little.” He leans over you, grabbing the wheel to make it straight before letting you take over again, “Atta girl, see, you're doing perfectly.”
His hand lightly squeezes your thigh reassuringly. You swallow hard, trying not to let his actions and deep voice affect you, trying to focus your attention back on the road. But that went out the window once you felt his hand rub the place you needed him most through your pants.
“Joel,” you whisper his name. It comes out more of a moan than you intended; he leans over the gear shift, kissing your neck and sucking on your skin. You close your eyes, feeling your body getting hotter and your heart beating faster. You had forgotten you were supposed to control a vehicle until he moved his lips off your neck.
“Focus on the road, baby; after all the shit I’ve been through, I don't wanna die because you drove us into a damn tree.”
You open your eyes, listening to him, and focus back on driving. At least you try to, but you fail once his fingers start unbuttoning your jeans. His hands go down your pants and slowly caress against your pussy over your panties. You feel your face heat up, getting wetter, more turned on by his fingers teasing you.
You don’t know how you’d manage to drive this much without crashing the truck, but you lose what little self-control you have left when Joel moves your panties to the side. Your foot moves off the gas pedal, the car stops, and you can't take it anymore. You close your eyes, feeling yourself get wetter.
“Joel! I can't–ah– I need you please, please, please, I need you,” you beg and whine to him, wanting him to do more, but all you hear is his deep voice laugh at you as he removes his hand from your pants.
“All of a sudden, you have manners, and bein’ polite.” he mocks you as he moves back into his seat, watching you get a bit mad.. “What happened to all that attitude and snark you gave me 10 minutes ago.” He continues as you look at him, your face flush and hot. No way you continue with this driving lesson after feeling his fingers against your core.
“I'm sorry, I'm sorry I won't be a pain in the ass anymore.” You try to apologize, hoping he’ll accept it and put his hand back. You look at him with soft eyes, practically beginning him to fuck you.
He looks at you for a few minutes before shaking his head and giving you a smirk, not being easily won over by your apologies or the 180 in your attitude.
“What?. You think a few sorrys gonna have me forget how much attitude you gave me for no reason?” You frown as he continues, “No, sweetheart, you’ve been an extra wiseass this morning, and I don't think you deserve it.”
You shake your head to apologize again, hoping to convince. “Joel… Please, I said I was sorry. You know I’m not a morning person, and I never mean it.” He doesn't say anything as he looks at you. You can tell he’s debating whether to drive back to Jackson or go to the back of the truck. “Alright, fine baby, get in the back. But I ain't letting you get that easy,” he grunts in a deep Texas voice. You smile, glad he had given in.
You unbuckle your seat belt and crawl into the truck's back seat. You're about to leave the car, but Joel places a hand on your shoulder, stopping you.
“You gotta put it into park, darling, or we’ll go rolling into a tree.” He gently reminds you as he opens the passenger door.
You glance at the gear shift, remembering you were supposed to be a driving lesson that had taken a turn.
“Oh, right.” You sit back in the driver's seat, putting the gearshift into P. You couldn't turn the car off since it was hot-wired, so you watch as Joel reaches over and pulls another small lever thing up, not exactly sure what it is for.
“The emergency brake. Just to be safe.”
After parking the car and making sure the car wasn't going to roll backward, You hop over the console and crawl into the back seat, waiting for him to join you. You watch as Joel gets out of the passenger seat, closing the door behind him. Your eyebrow frowns slightly, confused as to why he was not hoping into the backseat with you. “Aren't you- where are you going?” Your frown confused why he wasn't hopping over the seat like you. He smiles at you before closing the passenger door; he opens the back seat door, closing it behind him, and climbs in, sitting in the middle seat, getting into the backseat,
“I ain't as young, and with my bad back and knees. There's no way I’m hopping over the console and crawling into the goddamn back seat like that. My knees are already bad enough.”
You smile as he sits next to you, forgetting about your age difference, “Guess thats the con of dating an old man, huh.” You joke as he grabs your hips, gently pushes you down on the back seat, and unbuttons your jeans, hovering over you as you lay on your back.
“Yea, but who's getting in the back seat with said old man and begging this old man to fuck you.”
You laugh for a bit at his very valid reply. You feel him pull your jeans down and your underwear all at once. You sit with him as he tosses your clothes to the backseat floor. He moves a bit to sit on the seats, pulling you next to him, and his rough hands grab your hips. You feel him rub up your thigh with one and place his index and middle finger on the other hand against your lips. You open your mouth, sucking on them, gazing up at Joel.
Joel lets out a groan under his breath as he looks at you, “Fuck sweetheart, look so pretty sucking on my fingers.” His praise gets you wetter as he takes his finger out of your mouth and slowly pushes them inside you. He starts off slow but gradually increases his speed as his fingers curl inside you, hitting that spot deep in you. You shudder under his touch, grinding against his fingers.
“Fuck baby, you’re soaking my fingers.” he drawls out as he continues fucking you with his fingers. You whimper at his words, hearing the sounds of your wetness as his finger fuck deeper into you. You grab onto his bicep to steady yourself, clenching around his fingers as you get closer to your release. Your moans grow louder as you feel his fingers rub against your clit.
“Yes! Yes! Daddy, I’m so close!” You feel the pressure building, your breath gets shakier, and your moans get louder, filling the old truck, until you feel his hand cover your mouth, muffling you’re growing moans. He leans over, hovering over you more, his fingers stopping inside you.
“You need to shut the hell up before you attract a whole hoard of clickers.” His stern tone still turns you on more, his eyes staring into yours intensely. Making sure you understand him, you give him a nod with glossy eyes staring back at him.
He slowly started moving his finger again, curling up as he reached the spot each time he slid his finger inside you. Your eyes roll back as you move your hips against his fingers. You felt his hand come out of your mouth, and you bit your lip, trying to surprise your moans. You feel you’re self getting closer, your brain getting fuzzy as his fingers move faster.
“Is this what I have to do every morning, gotta make you cum on my fingers, then you’ll be nice?” He taunts you as you continue moaning. Your lips desperately clash with Joel’s messily making out with him. Joel’s other hand spreads your thighs further as he continues to finger fucking you.
You nod absentmindedly, leaning your head against his neck as he continues fucking you with his fingers; his thumb rubs your clit and brings you over the edge. Joel knew, too. He knew your body like the back of your hand, even outside of sex. He always knew when you were scared when you were pissed.
“You’re close, huh I can tell. You wanna cum, sweetheart? You’re gonna cum on daddy’s finger?” He asks softly as he sits beside you, fingers moving deeper inside your dripping cunt.
You immediately nod, “Yes, daddy, please, please. I’m so close.” Your release slows as his fingers pull out of you. You feel your orgasm fading and your eyes open, looking at him disappointed, watching as he puts his two fingers in his mouth, tasting your wetness. He gives you a slight smirk as she shakes his head.
“I don’t know. I’m not sure you deserve it, after how you were this morning, all those smart-ass remarks after you asked me to teach you to drive.” He slowly traces his finger over your clit, teasing you as you whine against him.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’ll be nice!” you apologize frantically, hoping he’ll move his fingers again. Joel smiles before he slips his finger inside your aching pussy accepting your apology, and moves his finger again, the arousal building again. Your moan grows louder as his fingers bring you to your release. He brings his lips to your mouth, sloppily kissing you to quiet your moans. You moan against his lips.
“As pretty as those moans are, you really gotta keep it down, sweetheart. Once we get back to Jackson, you can be as loud as you want. Okay?”
You nod, knowing he’s right. You really don't wanna lure a group of infected or clickers with your moans. In this situation, you’d rather not die mid-sex from clickers. you close your eyes, feeling his fingers move faster. He brings his other hand onto your clit, rubbing it slowly.
“I know, I know but-fuck baby, I’m close, I'm so close.” The sounds of your moans and your wetness from your entrance fill the rundown truck as you get closer to your release.
“Come on baby, atta girl, soak my finger, baby.” He coaxes, his voice guiding you through your orgasm. eye closing as you dissolve into pleasure. you gasp before moaning his name repeatedly. “Joel Joel Joel fuck daddy!” His hand comes over your mouth again to keep your moans quiet. You feel your stomach twist, your wet pussy clenches as you feel your climax. you move, laying your head on his shoulder as his fingers help you ride out your orgasm.
You feel him remove his fingers from you. you breathe heavily, coming down from your high. Just you open your eyes; Joel puts his dripping fingers in his mouth. You watch desperately as he moans at your taste. He smiles, laughing slightly at how you look at him still recovering but, obviously still wanting him. He leans forward, planting a kiss on your forehead, and looks at you.
“You better?” you nod silently. “You awake?” you nod again, feeling a bit weaker between your legs than before you had entered the truck. Joel laughs, gently giving you a soft kiss on your lips. “Good, now get back in the driver’s seat and take us home so I can fuck you. ”
You nod, getting up and hopping back into the front seat. You look back at Joel, watching him get into the passenger seat. He starts the car again, and you start speeding back to Jackson.
“You know, maybe you should give me an orgasm in the morning every day to wake me up.” you smile, making a joke but also being serious.
Joel shakes his head at your words, laughing a bit. His hand comes back to your thigh, rubbing it. “Just focus on driving the damn truck first.”
#joel <3#angel writes#joel miller#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller smut#joel miller x reader#the last of us fanfiction#joel miller one shot#tlou fanfiction#tlou fic#joel miller fic#joel miller x fem!reader#joel miller x reader smut#joel miller x female reader
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𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄, 𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐍𝐎𝐖 | Joel Miller x reader
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summary | set in the world of handsome, dirty, rich. joel is celebrating your one year anniversary with a few surprises. alternatively: how fast can ali turn a new pedro pic into a fic? also, bless @undercoverpena —she set me on a dangerous path with this one.
content warning | sugar daddy!joel, reader has no description other than a vague mention of a dress, thigh riding, borderline public sex/voyeurism, the use of a certain undergarment for pleasure, fingering, established relationship, sneaking around, subtle dom!joel & brat!reader, pure filth i do not apologize, un-beta'd
word count — 2.7k
He’s rented out the entire restaurant. All for you.
It doesn’t dawn on you at first, but as the primly dressed workers attend to you at the door, carefully removing the coat off your shoulders while another guides you toward the table in the corner of the restaurant—the rest of the space was dimly lit, except here. The overhead light casted a warm but pale yellow glow down on the table. Two plush, leather chairs that you were sure cost at least half of your monthly rent—not that you paid that, either. Joel had made sure of that.
You tried to deny it in the beginning, to fend off his constant willingness to make sure you didn’t have to stress or lift a finger when it came to finances—that you could focus on your degree without any outside distractions.
Your relationship was still something kept between the both of you, a sacred bond in a bubble that hadn’t been popped yet. It was perfect, too perfect. And you refused to give that up just yet.
“Really?” You ask, scrunching the dress up near your hips as you take a seat in the pulled out chair, careful that it wouldn’t ride up too high, but it seems futile as the moment you both hit the seat, Joel’s palm is settling between your legs. His palm curls around your left thigh, a comforting gesture he did whenever he had a moment to touch you—it doesn’t move, doesn’t linger too close or too far, it’s just there. You rub your thumb over his knuckles and smile.
“I shoulda told them I wanted the center table, huh?” Joel joked, flashing that perfect smile, his cheek dimpling. “Only the best for my girl.”
“Oh, because the empty restaurant you rented out wasn’t enough?” The playful resonance in your tone makes Joel chuckle, but quickly fades as he sees one of the several waiters approaching.
He orders some fancy bottle of wine you can’t pronounce and you can’t help but stare. He’s so…dressed down, compared to you. A simple white shirt, black jeans that he’s worn on several occasions but always hugging his thighs in a way made your mouth fucking salivate.
You weren’t even five minutes into this date and you were ready to cut short and run, saddle up over his lap in the driver’s seat of his truck and sink down on his cock for a quick five minutes of pure bliss, feeling the full extent and intensity of his love for you in the way he let his guard down in those moments.
The second you’re alone he’s moving his hand from your thigh to the nakedness of your neck, sliding around the back and guiding you toward him, a surprisingly gentle kiss against the column of your throat followed by a soft, “Never enough, baby.”
God, he was in a mood today.
It was nearing a year of making…whatever this was official. It wasn’t asking for your hand in marriage or even to be his girlfriend, just a silent agreement that you both wanted whatever it was that you felt for each other, regardless of labeling it. And that was what worked the easiest for you both. You tried not to think about it too often, the outside distractions and betrayals you were allowing to happen when buying into his attraction to you.
But, right now, that was the last thing on your mind.
Joel does all the ordering—a three course meal of chef’s choice that came with a hefty tip.
So, they were very good at leaving you alone. Just as Joel had requested.
“Did you like your gift?” Joel asks after some time, using the cloth napkin to wipe at his mouth, peering up at you as he forks another piece of food into his mouth.
Gift. You huff a soft laugh through your nose behind closed lips.
“Oh, those—” You roll your eyes playfully, poking at your food with your fork, “yeah—of course.”
And you were absolutely wearing them, just like he asked.
A sleek, lace pair of panties with a matching bralette, but the very obvious bump of a vibrator tucked away in the gusset of your underwear was a dangerous, dangerous game. They didn’t come with a remote but you knew exactly where it was, watching the smile on Joel’s face grow more relaxed as he was on his third cup of wine, but somehow more drunk on the sight of you.
“Wearin ‘em?” Joel asks, just to be sure. “Like I told you?”
“Why don’t you find out, Mr. Miller.”
He hadn’t heard that in a minute, his tongue poking at the inside of his cheek as he reached blindly, but with careful precision for the remote in his pocket.
The buzz startles you at first, but it was faint. You could ignore it easily, so you did.
“Eat up,” You motion to him and his forgotten third-course, a too sweet dessert that neither of you could finish on your own, but you were willing to do anything to distract him, “don’t be rude.”
Joel quirks an eyebrow up and chuckles, “Mouthy tonight? Alright.”
It was a specialty of yours, knowing just the right amount of brattiness to get under Joel’s skin.
The vibration picks up without warning, Joel now leaned back in his chair, left leg crossed over right and his hands resting in his lap, pointedly placed over the obvious growing bulge in his jeans that he was attempting to hide.
You hand grips the table in shock, jostling the silverware slightly.
Another soft laugh from Joel and you shoot daggers in his direction.
“In public? Seriously?”
“We’ve done worse,” He shrugs, “remember that night down at the beach over the summer?”
You did. Very well, in fact.
He had fucked you so hard the ache didn’t go away for a week, right there, on the beach—a group of college kids partying not even less than 20 yards away. You knew they were watching and maybe it was the result of genuine, human curiosity. But, the whistles and shouts—it sent a bolt of excitement down your spine, causing you to squeeze around Joel’s cock as he pumped into you, coming inside of you with your face pressed into the sand.
It wasn’t your proudest moment, but damn did it make the ache between your thighs so much worse as the memory floods your mind and Joel seems to notice you becoming spacey, nudging it up a few more notches and that causes a seering look of warning, teeth gritting as you gripped for his thigh, blunt nails digging in while your other snuck between your thighs, gripping hard on your dress as you squeezed your legs shut against your hand.
“Come here,” Joel says as he beckons with two fingers, curling them in a way you were all too familiar with.
“Joel, not here—” You stress, looking around at the vacant restaurant.
You couldn’t even hear them moving around in the kitchen anymore. You turn back to Joel and he’s still waiting, daring you as he scoots his chair back a few more inches. He offers a hand, gently removing the one gripping his thigh and you feel your body moving against your better judgment, so willing and pliant to his touch.
He maneuvers you until you’re straddling his thigh, hand gripping your waist as he forces you to take a seat, the broadness of his thigh, the taut muscle against the press of the vibrator as it forcefully dug into your already swollen clit. You gasp, gripping the tablecloth in desperation.
“Go on,” Joel encourages, “right here—I already know what you want, baby.”
You used to think he only enjoyed the idea of you using anything but his cock to get yourself off, but you quickly realized that it was your favorite thing to do—it was the only time he got cockier than usual, more teasing, seeing how easily riding his thigh would unravel you. It felt primal, that need for release and it was building in your core, that tingling heat lingering in wait.
“If they come back—”
“They won’t,” He stresses, his voice gruff and low as a palm spreads out over your back, the other one finding its home on your thigh, so dangerously close to the hem of your underwear underneath the silk dress, “slipped them a note—”
“Don’t tell me you t-tipped them so you could get your fuckin’ rocks off in the middle of din—” Joel increases the vibration another level and your jerk, holding back the strangled moan that dared to escape as you cant your hips against his thigh, “fuck, Joel. This is—”
Joel shushes you, fingers crawling up your back until he can grip the back of your neck, holding it tight as he pulls you up, head falling back instinctively against his hand, “Ride it, sweetheart.”
You can’t help the subtle rock of your hips, eyes scanning the room anxiously—you’ve never been this intimate in public, at least not with the looming chance that anyone could walk in and see you; arms spread out to grip the table cloth and Joel’s hands all over you, leaning forward over his leg. The table provided enough cover that unless someone decided to step within a few feet, they couldn’t see anything.
Still, your heart raced.
“Come on,” He teases, the subtle twang to his voice that had you clenching around nothing, the constant hum of the vibrator tucked away in your panties doing nothing to help quell the ache, “I rented out this restaurant for us, asked them to give us some privacy and you’re still feelin’ shy?”
“If someone were to walk by, Joel—”
Joel grips at your neck tighter suddenly, pulling you until his chest is against your back.
“I’ll turn that thing all the way up if I need to and it’ll stay on ‘til we get back home.”
His place, he means. He often called it home because it had become that to you. You had your own place, your own things, but you still found yourself there more often than not. A drawer in his closet tucked away with your belongings, your toiletries tucked away in a cabinet so Sarah wouldn’t ask questions. You’ve become masters of this game of hide and seek, managing to keep this entire thing quiet for close to a year.
Maybe it was just dumb luck.
He adds emphasis on his statement as his other hand slips between your legs and under the silk hem of your dress, palm pressing flat against your cunt and leaving you no room to wiggle away, hips jerking against his touch as you moan out, your hand slapping over your mouth at the sound.
“I’ll give you the next sixty seconds, baby,” Joel warns, glancing down at the shiny Rolex on his wrist, “if you don’t come, it’s gonna be a hell of a ride back.”
As if to make you suffer more, he slips a finger between the wet, sticky fabric of your underwear and over the line of your cunt, dragging through your slick and slipping a finger inside of you wordlessly, angling the vibrator stuffed inside the gusset of your panties against your clit with perfective precision—feeling the throb of your pussy around his fingers, the tight clench of your walls, you find yourself rocking against his thigh mindlessly, desperate to chase that relief.
You couldn’t breathe—the feeling caught in your throat as he lifted his leg only a few centimeters higher, foot raised off his heel, your dress slipping up slightly higher under his grip and allowing him a clear view of your ass, the delicious curve and the black lace that clung to your skin. He could pull his cock out and get himself off there within just a few minutes if he really wanted to and slip himself inside you right as he came, knowing how much you enjoyed being stuffed full of him.
“Attagirl,” He commends you, a grin growing on his face that you unfortunately can’t see, but you feel it—his gaze, the hot press of his hands on your body, “just like that.”
Your eyes fall closed, heading bowing as he releases his hold on your neck to grip at the fabric bunched at your waist, slipping his hand over bare skin, fingertips pressing into the flesh of your waist, aiding in the hurried rock of your hips. The feeling of fullness comes from his fingers when he slips in a second, squeaking out a quiet “Fuck,” as your hand slips, slapping against his other thigh for support, accidently brushing your fingers against the remote tucked away in his pocket and dialing up the vibrator to the max, unknowing that it was only a level off.
“‘’S right there, darlin’,” Joel softens his tone, picking up the pace of his fingers fucking into you, his grip on your hip tighter, undoubtably ruining his jeans for the night, but he clearly didn’t mind.
The feeling builds—the quick and constant stimulation does nothing to help, sending you flying over the edge with a gasp, crying out Joel’s name as he keeps you stuck, pulling out his fingers in an instant and turning off the vibrator, leaving you to wade through the orgasm untouched.
“There you go, baby,” He coos, “makin’ a goddamn mess on my jeans, aren’t you?”
You nod, feeling dizzy as your head spins and your body goes light, whining through the sensitive friction of the denim against your cunt and Joel slides a comforting hand up your spine, rubbing against the middle of your back.
“Still with me, baby?”
You nod quietly, raising your head up slowly.
Joel chuckles lowly, patting gently at your thighs until you turn sideways in his lap. He smiles softly at the disheveled state of you, much less composed than a moment ago.
“What was that about?” You ask after a moment of gentle care, his lips pressing against your neck, chin, before pressing against your lips in the most tame kiss he’s ever given you.
He’s checking in.
“Wanted to cross somethin’ off my list.”
You raise your eyebrows in pleasant surprise, a small laugh bubbling from your chest as you adjust your dress over your chest, “A list? Like…for sex?”
Joel shakes his head, pulling his lips together in a nonchalant frown.
“No—well, there’s some of that on there but…things I wanna do with you.”
“Oh,” Color you intrigued, you push one of his imperfectly styled curls back behind his ear, “care to share?”
Joel swipes a dollop of whipped cream on his fingers and shakes his head, “Where’s the fun in that, baby?” You shrug as he presses the cream to your lips and you open dutifully, allowing him to press the whipped sweetness against your tongue, mixed with the taste of yourself as you close your lips and suck just for show, kissing his fingertip teasingly as he pulls away and pinches playfully at your thigh.
You laugh airily, reaching for your phone on the table as you turn to him, pulling up your camera.
“Wait—you really have to see the look on your face,” Instead of keeping the dumbstruck look on his face, he brings his hands to his mouth in the act of blowing you a kiss and you snap the picture with a smile, letting out a startled yelp as he tips you back slightly, nearly into the table as he angles your body to allow his lips to touch your ear.
“Take those off,” He tells you, “otherwise I’ll be tempted again.”
“No self control, Mr. Miller?”
Joel catches your chin between the thumb and pointer of his left hand, cutting off the small giggle that starts to escape your mouth and his eyes are pensive for a brief moment before softening, “Do as I say, darlin’. We got a long drive back.”
You nod, feeling his thumb swipe over your bottom lip before he’s helping you off his lap, swatting at your ass playfully as your feet hit the floor.
“Yes, sir,” You reply flippantly, leaning in to press a quick kiss to his cheek before you disappear.
Joel smirks to himself as he reaches for his wallet.
You were right, without a doubt.
Joel had no self control when it came to you and he quickly realized that he’d be willing to do just about anything to make you happy.
-
divider creds: @/saradika-graphics
#joel miller#joel miller smut#joel miller x reader#joel miller x you#joel miller x y/n#pedro pascal characters#tlou fanfiction#the last of us fanfiction#pedro pascal fandom#pedro pascal#my writing
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Bad idea
dbf!joel x f!reader.
dividers by @saradika-graphics
main masterlist
summary: teasing joel while on a road trip to houston for a concert was a bad idea. especially with your father tagging along. 3.9k words.
warnings: 18+ MDNI, age gap (23/40), smut, unprotected piv, fingering, dirty talk??, shit load of pet names, banter??, gas stations, no use of y/n, cursing, readers father is oblivious ofc, not beta read we die like losers, uhh idk what else so if i missed anything lmk !!
a/n: omfg this took way longer to write than i'd hoped for but it's here !! it's not the best and it's truthfully my first fic i've completed, written, and posted so if it's horrible that's why. that and i've also never written smut before so this was definitely a learning experience, hopefully as time goes on i'll get better at it but for now it's fuck it we ball, live and learn, anyways enjoy this and also happy birthday to joel miller the loml <3
The tree leaves dance in the wind, a few cars crushing the ones that have fallen and blown into the street leaving only tiny pieces to scatter in the air. It's only the middle of August but the leaves have already started to change colors and fall. at least it's still warm out.
You've watched at least four cars pass since the time Joel was supposed to show up, your dad planned some overnight trip to a concert in Houston. You're all supposed to ride in Joel's truck – he'd offered to be the one to drive there and back – but he still isn't here.
Be nice if it was just you and Joel. It would be like a date, the two of you alone together, spending the day together and having the hotel room all to yourselves for the night.
But that could never happen.
You can hear him from where you're sitting on the porch. your dad. He's been on the phone for the past hour arguing with whoever, he'd gotten loud enough you'd sought reprieve outside, it's proven useless.
You're thankful when you spot the familiar black truck pull up along the sidewalk, you stand from the steps and make your way over to him as he steps out of the truck. “You're late,” you say.
Joel grabs up your bag, tossing it into the bed of the truck. You're not entirely sure how safe that is but you don't bring it up yet.
“Sorry baby, lost track of time and got stuck in traffic.” When he turns to you he leaves one hand on the bed and the other on his hip, you watch the way his hands flex, like he wants nothing more than to wrap you up in his arms and kiss you.
But your dad could walk out the door any second, so he doesn't.
You nod, giving a slight raise of your eyebrows. “Traffic,” is all you say.
“What?” He cocks his head, raising his own eyebrows questioningly.
“Nothing,” you mutter when you hear the screen door open and your dad's voice travels through the air.
“We ready?” he tosses his own bag in the bed, eyeing you two curiously. You both nod in confirmation. “Alright then, let's go.” He rounds the truck, hopping in the passenger's side.
You look at Joel who gives you an apologetic look as he opens the door behind the driver.
This is going to be a long trip.
Joel was right about the traffic, you spend thirty minutes waiting for it to move along the highway. You'd understood the plan of it being an overnight trip but at this rate it might as well be a two day trip.
“God damn, the hell’s takin’ so long?” You hear your dad say, finally breaking the silence that filled the car. “might have to stay longer at this rate, if we even make it,” he mutters.
“‘S why we left so early,” Joel says, there's a hint of agitation laced in his voice, no doubt from the traffic.
You feel the need to make it worse, poke the bear if you will.
“You were late,” you mumble, but you can tell he heard you from the glare you receive through the mirror.
The concert doesn't start till seven, you'd left early – far too early if you're being honest – enough so there was time to get ready, you aren't too sure how that will plan out now from the traffic but Houston isn't very far now.
You honestly wish it was just you and Joel. The car ride so far has been pretty boring, if it was just the two of you the ride wouldn't be so dull. Instead you've listened to your dad talk about sports and work while Joel nodded along, occasionally replying with a sentence or two.
You'd be lying if you said it didn't bother you that all of Joel's attention was elsewhere. But you'd also be lying if you weren't about to make his life impossible.
Because that's exactly what you do.
It's honestly not a good idea, it's risky, but you're beyond caring at this point.
You reach over for your bag, grabbing out a few snack foods you'd packed earlier. You opt out of the chips, they're probably not the most sultry thing you could eat, instead you reach for the cream puff you'd bought a few days ago and forgot about.
You'd packed it for that reason, but now it has a new purpose.
The sound of the wrapping catches the two men's attention, your dad turns in his seat to see what the noise was when he spots the pastry between your hands. “Be careful with that, don't go makin’ a mess in Joel's truck,” he says, scolds almost.
You roll your eyes slightly. “I won't,” your eyes meet Joel's in the mirror, you smile at him as you take a bite of the puff.
His eyes track you, occasionally flitting back to the road. You can tell he's trying to figure out your game, not that it's too complicated to figure out.
You pull the pastry from your mouth, your other hand coming down to cup under your chin slightly. Joel's eyes are like daggers on you as he watches you, you can see the moment he spots the cream on your lips – you spotted it too.
Your tongue darts out slowly to lick at your lips, cleaning the mess left behind running your thumb along your bottom lip for extra measure. Joel stiffens in his seat, his hand tightening on the steering wheel, his jaw ticking to the side as he watches your little performance.
You smile innocently, but you both know what you're doing.
“Light’s green bud,” your dad's voice booms, breaking Joel from his trance as his eyes move from the mirror back to the road.
You’ve stopped for gas twice now, the first time was before you’d left because Joel forgot to fill his truck up the night before. You’d be worried about not making it on time but you’ve made pretty decent time.
You’re about half way when Joel pulls into a gas station, pulling up to a pump and shutting off the car. The sound of the passenger door opening catches Joel's attention. “We all goin’?” he asks, looking back at your dad who’s already out of the car.
“Yeah, figured we could stretch our legs and all that,” your dad says, emphasizing his statement by stretching out his body.
You’re wondering about the candy section when your dad finds you. “Hey, Joel's outside filling the truck, you almost done?”
You scan the aisle one more time, snatching up a lollipop as you nod. “Yep, now I am,” you say, following him to the counter.
You swear the line takes forever, you don’t think you’ve ever seen a gas station so busy before, you stand next to your dad as he checks out, your eyes wander out one of the windows, you spot Joel almost immediately. His broad shoulders squared as he stands next to the pump.
You feel a tap on your shoulder, turning to see your dad gesturing towards the door. You follow him out, unwrapping the lollipop as you both make your way back to the truck. “Shit,” your dad mutters, ruffling through the plastic bag. “I'll be right back, forgot something.”
You nod, leaning against the side of the truck, watching as your dad jogs back into the store leaving you and Joel to finish filling the tank.
Your eyes catch Joel's, he’s standing at the bed of the truck his arms crossed along his chest, you watch the way his shirt stretches along with it.
You can tell he’s caught onto your game, has for a while now if the way the muscle in his jaw jumps says anything.
“The hell you doin’?”
You smile, pulling the sucker from your mouth with a pop. “What do you mean?”
Joel shakes his head, grabbing the pump and putting it back freeing up his pathway as he steps closer to you. “Don’t give me that, you know what I'm talking about,” he says, crowding your space slighting.
You look up at him through your lashes, doing your best to keep your expression unreadable. “You’re going to have to be specific joel,”
His jaw ticks to the side, scanning the area quickly before gripping your chin between his fingers, tilting your face upwards more as he leans in. “Your little stunt in the car with the cream puff, tryna get me hot and bothered, hm?” He whispers, his tone dropping an octave sending shivers down your back.
This is the closest he’s been in hours and he still isn’t close enough.
“Wanna get us caught, hm? Is that it?” His hand slides to the base of your throat, “let your daddy find out i’m fucking his daughter?”
You part your lips, his eyes drop at the movement, you want nothing more than for him to kiss you right now to run your hands through his hair while he all but devours you. He’s thinking the same, the way his hand tightens ever so slightly around your neck as his eyes flit between your lips and your eyes.
“Joel,” you breathe, you’re not sure what you’re trying to ask but you never get a chance before the sound of your dad’s voice causes you both to spring apart.
“Are we ready?” your dad asks, tossing his things in the car and looking at you both.
“Yep,” Joel clears his throat, running a hand across his face before getting in the truck.
Your legs are practically screaming at you, sitting in the back of a pickup for hours and then climbing a set of stairs is leaving your calves burning in the worst way.
You’d finally made it to the motel you’d be staying at for the night with plenty of time to spare thankfully. When you walk into the room you’re immediately met with the ac, it’s a relief on your skin from the hot air outside.
The room’s what you’d expect a motel room to be, two double beds spaced apart with two dark night stands next to them. They’re neatly made, meaning it’ll be a battle to get into. You venture further in the room, passing by the bathroom and heading towards another door within the room.
When you open the door you’re met with another room, it’s slightly smaller with no other way out of it than the main door, there’s a single double bed in the center of the room that’s made up the same way as the other two.
Conjoined rooms. It makes sense, you toss your things on the bed closing the door. You rummage around in your bag looking for the dress you’d packed, you didn’t pack a whole lot given that you weren’t staying for very long but now as you’re searching for something to wear it feels like you did.
You end up dumping the bag, your pajamas and make up layed out on the bed as you flatten out the wrinkles of your dress, it wasn’t anything too extravagant just a simple dress that fell just above your knees.
You’re just about to put your hair up to do your makeup when the door opens, you turn to see Joell standing in the doorway, his broad frame practically taking up the entire space. He’s dressed in the same clothes he’d shown up this morning in, — save for the flannel he’d stripped himself of — a dark blue shirt that hugs his arms paired with dark washed jeans.
He stands leaning against the frame in silence as his eyes rack up your body taking you in. “Y’look pretty,” he says, finally pushing off the frame taking slow deliberate steps towards you.
You watch his movements stood in the middle of the room, your heart rate picks up heat pooling in the bottom of your stomach from the way he’s looking at you. The atmosphere in the room is thick with need, you have half a mind to ask where your dad is.
“Oh, now you’re worried ‘bout your dad?” your eyes widen, you hadn’t thought you’d said that aloud. Joel crowds your space, his hand coming up to cup your face, his thumb under your chin as he tilts your head slightly.
“He left to get food, won’t be back for a little while,”
“It’s just us then?”
“Mhm,”
You all but drag him down to your lips, your hands locked together around the back of his neck. Joel stumbles at your eagerness catching himself before he can fall, his hands falling to your waist bunching up your dress as he squeezes your sides.
You gasp softly when Joel pulls you closer, the prominent bulge of his cock digging into your hip, you grind your hips upwards seeking some sort of friction for the ache already forming between your legs.
Joel pulls away, you whine at the loss. “Should finish gettin’ ready sweetheart,” he mumbles, putting distance between you, his hands still firmly in place at your waist.
He’s teasing you now, getting you back for the car ride. But you’ve lost the patience to be teased right now, your core practically throbbing already and Joel is looking at you with a smug smirk well aware of the state you’re in.
“Joel,” you whine out, trying uselessly to pull him back towards you.
He raises his brows, keeping his distance. “Yes babygirl?” He says, rubbing circles along your sides.
“Please,”
“Please what, darlin’?”
You groan in annoyance, if you weren’t so worked up you’d strangle him for making you beg, but you are. “Please, fuck me,”
Joel hums, looking up as if he’s contemplating, you’re certainly starting to reconsider strangling him. “Dunno know baby, might just make you wait til we get home,”
You could honestly start screaming, you’re running out of time and he’s just messing with you. You look up at him, his eyes already on you an almost amused look on his face.
You lay your hands on his shoulders as you plead. “Please. I’ll do anything just, please,”
“Yeah?” He steps closer, leading you backwards towards the bed, you nod slowly carefully walking til the back of your knees hit the edge of the bed.
Joel lays you back, pushing whatever's on the bed to the floor as he follows you down, he nudges your legs apart so he can nestle himself between them. You wrap your hands around his neck again, pulling him down once more to your lips.
His mouth slots over yours, his tongue slipping into your mouth. Your body is on fire as his hands wander, sliding lower to where you need him most.
You moan into Joel's mouth, your hips grinding upwards as one of his hands slip under the hem of your dress finding your clit through the fabric of your underwear, damp from the slick leaking from your core.
He rubs gentle circles against your clit, kissing his way down your neck. You run your hands through his hair gripping the strands as you gasp and moan.
Joel pulls his hand away from your core, you whine at the loss, he pulls away from you, his hands sliding up your legs. His fingers slip under your waistband, pulling your underwear down off your legs and stuffing them in his pocket.
“Joel,” you squirm under him, his eyes flick back up to yours, he watches you, his eyes never leaving yours as his hand slides back up your leg spreading them so he can nestle between them again.
“I know,” he rasps, two of his fingers running through your arousal, collecting the slick before sliding the two digits past your entrance slowly, your head falling back against the pillows as you moan softly.
He thrusts his fingers, a slow back and forth rhythm, curling them upward on every inward thrust. Your hips rock up encouraging him to move faster, every inward thrust paired with the rock your hips has Joel hitting the spongy spot inside you that has you seeing stars.
His thumb finds your clit rubbing circles on the bud, your hands seek purchase on his shoulders, rumpling his shirt as you ball your fists. “This what you wanted, baby?” He taunts, pulling his fingers almost completely out then thrusting them back in.
You nod, your voice lost to the moans and gasps. “Could've asked ‘stead of teasin’ me all day,” Joel drawls, his voice thick with lust, his hips slowly rutting into the mattress.
“Yeah, but where’s the fun in that?” You finally breathe out.
You hear Joel grumble something under his breath, you don’t catch what before he’s back to thrusting his fingers at a fast pace, his hips grinding down matching the rhythm of his fingers.
You can feel yourself teetering on the edge, the warmth building at the bottom of your stomach. Joel can sense it too, his fingers working more determinedly, his thumb applying more pressure on your clit as he works to push you over the edge. “You gonna cum?” He drawls in your ear lowly, placing delicate kisses below your ear.
A soft moan elicits itself from your throat, nodding your head quickly, your toes curling up as your orgasm approaches. “Words darlin’,” he nips at your earlobe.
“y– ha – yes,”
“That's it babygirl, let go,” he coo’s gently, encouraging you, and you do. You grip Joel's arms, tossing your head back, your mouth agape, a chain of moans escaping. Your walls clench around his fingers, your body shuddering under the weight of your orgasm.
“There you go, good girl,” Joel praises softly, slowing his fingers as you come down from your high. He watches the way your chest rises and falls rapidly, your body relaxing into the bed. You haven’t fully come down from your high before beginning to fumble with the button of his jeans, Joel's hand lays over yours stopping your movements. “Woah, slow down darlin’,” he chuckles.
You groan in frustration, throwing your head back against the pillows once more. “Joel.” you grumble.
“Ask nicely,” he says, raising an eyebrow.
You groan again looking up at him again. “Please,”
He pulls your hand away, carefully pinning it above your head as he deftly works open the button of his pants, swiftly pushing them past his hips along with his underwear. You can tell he’s running out of patience — and time — to keep teasing you from the way he all but hurriedly frees his aching cock.
You watch as he strokes himself, a careful back and forth motion, his brows furrowed in pleasure. He nudges your legs further apart nestling his hips between your thighs, you wrap your legs around him pulling him closer to you. The head of his cock nudges against your clit eliciting a gasp.
“Fuck,” Joel breathes, closing his eyes tightly, his teeth grinding together slightly.
He lets out a breath, composing himself, he wraps his hand around the base of his cock, sliding the tip along your folds and through arousal using it to slick himself up. Holding your breath everytime the tip catches your clit.
He does that a few more times, his cock only catching your entrance before pulling away. “Just, fuck me,” you huff irritatedly.
“Bein’ a real brat, y’know that?” Joel grumbles, lining his cock up with your entrance. “Should leave you like this, let you go to the concert soakin’,” he never gives you the chance to say anything before he’s pushing his hips forward, stretching you open.
You moan out your legs tightening around his hips, he sets a brutal rhythm, his hips snapping upwards, the head of his cock pushing further on every thrust.
Your hands find their way to Joel’s hair, pulling the strands as you toss your head back in pleasure, your eyes rolling backwards. Joel groans, his head falling on your chest, his hot breath ghosting the skin there.
The room was filled with both of your breaths, soft moans mixing with heavy groans as Joel fucked into your heat. His hand slides down your side, his thumb finding your clit once more drawing tight circles, your moans growing in pitch. Joel slots his mouth over yours, muffling your moans slightly in a heated kiss, your teeth clashing together.
“Be. Quiet.” He manages to gasp out between kisses. You mumble out what sounds like an affirmative, he moves down your neck leaving open mouthed kisses along the skin there, his teeth lightly nipping there. But he knows better than to leave any marks.
His hips continue to ground into you, his cock pushing further and further, his tip grazing against the spot inside you that leaves you breathless. “Yeah? Right there?” He quirks an eyebrow, watching as you bite your lower lip in an effort to muffle your moans.
You nod your head, unable to form any words, your walls tighten around him, you can feel yourself getting closer. His pace quickens, his hips pounding into you faster working vigorously to get you there before him. “Go on baby, le — fuck — let go,” he stutters, his hips faltering slightly.
Your legs tighten around his hips as your orgasm gets closer, the feel of his cock pushing you over the edge. Your walls clamp down, your legs practically going numb as your eyes rolling as pleasure washed over you. Joel’s movements slow as you come around him. “That’s it babygirl, there you go. Cum around me, good girl,” he soothes, a desperate moan escaping.
When you finally come down from your high Joel’s movements pick up speed again, working desperately to push himself over the edge he’d been teetering on for a while now.
You run your hands through his hair, pulling him closer, trailing kisses up his neck and below his ear, lightly biting the lobe as his hips begin to stutter. “Fuck darilin’, so fuckin’ pretty it hurts,” he rambles, his head falling to your shoulder.
He groans, his hips stopping as he cums, his warm load coating the inside of your walls. His body slackens slightly, careful not to put his weight on you. For a while the only sound filling the room is that of both your breaths.
After a few more bouts of silence Joel finally speaks up. “Should get cleaned up and finish gettin’ ready,” he says, groaning as he slowly pulls out, carefully tucking himself away before extracting himself from the bed. “C’mon,” he pats your leg, moving towards the door.
You sit up on your elbows, watching him from the bed. “What about my underwear?” You ask, Joel turns to face you from the doorway.
“What about them?” He doesn’t say anything else, never gives you the chance to say anything either before he’s out the door a smug smirk plastered across his face.
You stare out the door at a loss, eventually falling back against the bed, you know you should get up and finish getting ready before your dad gets back, but if you’re being honest you don’t think you could get up right now.
Instead you lay there staring at the ceiling, a ridiculous grin spread across your face. Teasing Joel with your dad around may have been a bad idea, but you’d do it again if it got you here.
#joel x reader#dbf!joel#road trip#smut#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller smut#joel miller x reader#i'm literally terrified to share this omg#concert without the concert#happy tlou day and happy birthday to joel#dbf trope has me in a chokehold
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stranded
pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader
words: 2.6k
summary: your shitty boyfriend dumps you on the side of the road after a fight. joel miller finds you.
warnings: 18+ minors dni, no outbreak, explicit smut, oral (f receiving) (joel miller is a munch and u cannot convince me otherwise), slight angst, reader has a shitty/abusive (ex) bf (only briefly mentioned), allusions to piv sex, i think that's it? lmk if i missed anything!
a/n: this is my entry for the summer lovin' writing challenge put together by the incredible @pedgito, @amanitacowboy, and @chaotic-mystery (ily all so much), based on the above moodboard with the location hiking (i went for hitchhiking) and the quote "i'm your only hope". i haven't written in what feels like years & am admittedly rusty, but alas! it was so much fun to get back into writing with a little challenge. dividers by @/saradika-graphics. this was minimally edited; all mistakes are my own.
His red pickup truck had been the first car you'd seen in hours. Rain pouring down, drenching your t-shirt and streaking mascara along the apples of your cheeks, it'd been like a beacon through the fog.
You’d asked to borrow his cell phone to call a friend. Don't have one, he’d drawled. Got a landline at my place, but the whole county’s without power.
And though you knew nothing about the man in the driver's seat -- not his name nor his history with the law -- you'd still gotten in when he'd pushed open the passenger-side door. After all, you had little other choice.
It was either that, or risk freezing to death on the side of the road where your boyfriend had deserted you. Ex boyfriend, now. That asshole had taken everything from you: your phone, your keys, your dignity -- and left you for dead. So really, how much worse could this admittedly handsome stranger be?
Just a bit, it turns out.
Okay, so he's giving you a lift. Back to his place to wait out the storm and call a friend on his landline once the power returns. And he's not hurling nonsensical accusations at you with hands curled tightly around the steering wheel. No declarations of, "My buddy swears he saw you dancing with another guy. Why would he lie about that?"
Still, his silence is beyond off-putting. His brows seem permanently contorted downward, his eyes narrowed on the road ahead as he drives, the highway closer and closer to flooding with every mile that passes. He hasn't asked if you're okay despite the fact that you're holding your ankle in your lap, its incessant throbbing a reminder of when your ex pushed you out of his car earlier. No, he hasn't even offered his name.
You wonder if you're driving to your death.
The first words he speak are muttered under his breath, a quick, "it's just down this road," as pavement turns to gravel. He slows the truck, tires crunching and mud splattering until the trees give way to a tiny wood cabin. The driveway is a long stretch of dirt that winds through an unkempt yard, all tall grass and overgrown shrubs.
It's dark, the sky an angry black as you hobble out of the truck. Your ankle stings and your heart pounds when the strange man rounds on you, and you flinch when he outstretches a hand.
"You hurt?"
His voice, though unamused, drips like thick, rich honey. Pools at your feet with the rainwater.
"Yeah," you respond meekly. Your fingers curl against your palm, nails digging into the skin there. "It's uh, my ankle." His eyes follow yours down to your feet. Widen at the sight of black and blue.
"Shit."
It's quiet for a long moment. You can tell he's trying to piece it all together: how you ended up alone on the side of the road, hurt. He still doesn't ask though. Not until a particularly loud rumble of thunder sounds overhead, causing you to nearly jump out of your skin.
He sighs, a half-hearted comforting hand on your shoulder.
"Someone dump you out there?"
"Yeah," you sigh. "Boyfriend. We got into a fight and he just...lost it."
The man nods. Takes a small step forward as you hop on one foot next to him.
It must take five whole minutes to get to the front door. Your ankle only feels worse by the time you step onto the porch, throbbing having turned into searing pain somewhere along the way. You bite down hard on your bottom lip as he jostles the key in the doorknob, the metallic taste of your own blood a temporary distraction.
He motions for you to follow him in, which you do, albeit hesitantly. His house is as you'd expect it to be from your brief encounter: little furniture or decoration, dishes in the sink, a general air of…man…throughout the small, dark space.
“Sit down,” he says. “I'll get a first-aid-kit.”
“Wait,” you stop him, because for some reason it seems of utmost importance in this very moment, despite the flash flood outside and your inability to walk, to know–
“What's your name?”
“Joel.”
You situate yourself on the couch as you wait for him to return. Scan the room for any signs of imminent danger. There’s a bookshelf on the far wall, stacked top to bottom with hardcovers and carved wooden trinkets. You wonder if he – Joel – made them himself.
You wonder if the books keep him company out here; if the stories of Huck Finn and Moby Dick make him feel less alone.
You wonder why he’s so isolated in the first place.
You have little time to dwell on it though, as he re-enters the room promptly, dusty first-aid-kit in one hand and a lantern in the other. He places the latter down by his feet before pulling up a footstool. Opens up the kit and pulls out a roll of gauze.
“Might hurt a little,” he warns, beginning to unravel it.
You nod. Brace yourself.
By the look of his hands – large and gruff – you expect him to be a bit rough. But he’s gentle, surprisingly so, cradling the lower half of your leg and wrapping your ankle with laser focus. His fingers, though calloused, skate across your skin with a near-startling softness.
You watch his face as he works on you, quickly finding yourself transfixed by the way his brows contort and his eyes narrow, by the absentminded twitch of his mouth. He looks so much less intimidating like this, and you inadvertently begin to relax into his touch.
He seems to notice this, leaning in closer to your body, and while you know it's just to get a better angle, more precision, it still sends a rather confusing shockwave of electricity up your spine. In this proximity, you can practically feel the heat radiating off of his body. Can practically see every fiber of muscle in his biceps as they flex under his flannel shirt.
This close, you're met with the rather inconvenient realization that Joel is beautiful.
You try to tell yourself that it's purely situational, that if you hadn't just been dumped on the side of the road by your asshole boyfriend, you wouldn't be seeking the physical comfort of another man. Still, this does nothing to stop the steady acceleration of your heartbeat, nor the growing arousal between your thighs.
All of this, despite the pain in your ankle.
You almost don't realize he's done mending you, the shifting of his hand to your opposite calf sending you into a prompt spell of dizziness. Mind flooded with images of him spreading you apart, taking you right here on this worn, leather couch, you're silently reeling.
His eyes flit up to meet yours, a little darker than you recall them being. His fingers curl against your skin and your breath hitches.
Does he feel this too?
You shift experimentally. Let your legs fall apart just an inch. To your dismay, he pulls his hand back; clears his throat.
And just like that – the bubble bursts.
“All set,” he announces as he stands, before practically running out of the room.
A little humiliated, you retreat back into yourself. Stare out the window and pretend not to notice when he rejoins you in the living room and wordlessly drags his footstool to the opposite side of the room.
The remainder of the day passes agonizingly slow. Minutes feel like hours, the sky only growing darker, and it’s a wonder how Joel can even see the pages of the book he’s currently got his nose stuck into.
Not that he’d offered you one.
Instead, you’ve been stuck in place. A prisoner to this couch, the springs of which are digging into your back uncomfortably. Staring out the window like some harrowed female protagonist in a period piece.
Joel doesn’t seem to notice your presence, after a while. He reads, drinks warm beer, and quite literally twiddles his thumbs. Anything to avoid talking to you.
You’re not sure what you did wrong. Had you said something to offend him without realizing? Had your subtle pass at him been less subtle than you’d thought? Had you crossed a line? You’d really just considered it innocent flirting. Maybe Joel hadn’t.
Regardless, it makes you wonder why he even brought you here. Maybe he’d just wanted to feel like a hero – hadn’t thought about what came after. About you occupying his precious space.
After a while of sitting in the same place, your muscles begin to ache. Plus, your throat feels dry. You need to stand, need to get something to drink. Except, when you move to get up, Joel immediately stops you.
“Where you goin’?”
“Need a drink.”
“I’ll get you one,” he offers. “What do you want?”
What you really want is to go home. To forget this entire day even happened.
So you settle on–
“Vodka?”
He hums. “Don’t got that.”
“Tequila?”
“Got some scotch left. Might be one more beer. Was really hopin’ to have it though.”
You scoff.
“Okay. Water, then?”
“That I can do.”
He disappears into the kitchen and returns moments later with a glass. Hands it over without making eye contact.
“Thanks,” you mutter. He says nothing in response. Just collects his empty beer bottles from off the floor and retreats once again.
By the time he comes back, the sun is setting – at least, what can be seen of it through the dark clouds that still rage in the sky.
He seems tense, fixating himself by the window and watching the storm with such acuity you think he may be waiting for the second it ends to kick you out.
“Have you heard anything about when this is supposed to pass?” you ask.
“Have no electricity,” he grumbles. “So, no.”
You stretch out your back. Stand. This time, Joel doesn't stop you. “Just didn't know if you had a radio or something.”
“I don't.”
Rounding on him, you attempt to get him to look in your direction. Still, he stares straight ahead, like you're not even there. Frustration bubbles in you, quickly reaching a full boil.
"What is your problem?"
He finally looks at you. And then he laughs, though you get the sense that he's not amused in the slightest.
"My problem?”
You nod. Raise your eyebrows at him.
“I'm lettin' you wait out a storm in my house right now,” he says. “Doesn't seem like somethin' you should be asking me."
You scoff. "I just don't know what I did to piss you off."
He turns to face you completely now.
"Are you kidding? Haven't done nothing but inconvenience me since you got in my truck. Askin’ for a fuckin’ cocktail like this is some kind of resort. Starin’ at me all day like i'm a guest in my own home.”
Is he fucking serious?
“Why’d you even pick me up?"
"Wasn't gonna drive by a stranded girl on the side of the road, was I?"
You're both silent for a long moment. You can't exactly be mad at him for rescuing you. Still, you feel extremely uncomfortable now, knowing that he doesn't want you here. Tears pickle the corners of your eyes threateningly. You choke them back.
"Well fine, if i'm such a fucking burden, i'll leave."
You're expecting him to open the door for you. Throw you out to the wolves. So you're more than taken aback when he shakes his head at you disapprovingly.
"Like hell you will. There's about two feet of water out there. Where you gonna go?"
"I don't know,” you admit. “But i'll figure it out."
"You'll figure it out?"
"That's what I said."
Joel tuts. "Look at the state of you right now. You can barely even walk. There’s no power anywhere. Just face it: you wanna get home safely, before tomorrow, i'm your only hope."
“Fuck you,” you spit, stepping closer to him. Where does he get off, acting like such a righteous savior? You're going to brush past him, leave anyway, but as soon as you go to move, his hand is winding around your arm.
“Don't.”
“Or what?” you hiss.
“Just – don't.” His voice is less angry; more pleading.
“You don't want me here,” you say. It's not a question, but he nods anyway.
“Yes I do. I mean – I don't want anything to happen to you out there. Please just – let me make this up to you.”
His hand slides up to your shoulder. Squeezes gently. Your eyes wander to where he holds you. When they flit up to his face again, you find he's already gazing at you.
You're not sure who moves first.
You're back on his couch in an instant, your shorts being tugged down and off your legs, along with your panties. And then Joel is shouldering himself between your legs, shimmying down the couch and situating his face right in front of your pussy.
His nails dig into the skin of your thighs as he gets his first taste of you, and he groans. You shudder at the sight of him, the sound of him. Your fingers find their way to the curls at the crown of his head and grasp tightly onto them.
“Is this what you need, baby?” he slurs, and you nod deliriously.
“Yeah,” he smirks. “I know.”
His tongue dips into your apex, greedily lapping up some of your sweet nectar before he finally decides to put you out of your misery, dragging it up to swipe over your swollen clit.
You instinctually buck against his face, trying to force him closer, and he chuckles. Grabs onto your thighs and pulls you toward his mouth. His tongue begins to relentlessly massage your clit and you cry out, a needy little whine that echoes through the room.
“Mhm,” he hums against you in understanding, the vibrations of his voice sending a wave of pleasure coursing through your core. And then he pulls away, only momentarily, to spit on your pussy, the sound of it so obscene that your eyes roll back in response. He's back on you immediately, plunging two fingers into your soaked cunt and curling them against your g-spot as his tongue laves at you.
In less than a minute, you're coming hard, gushing all over his chin and his hand. He doesn't relent until you're gasping for him to stop, scratching at his shoulders in desperation. And then he's kissing you, the taste of your arousal on his mouth, and though satiated, you've never felt so starving.
“Need you,” you mumble against his lips, your hands roving restlessly across any part of him you can reach, grasping at fabric and skin.
He nibbles at your neck and you inhale the scent of him. Commit the smell of his sweat and musk to memory. This'll probably be the only time you have him, after all. You push that thought to the back of your mind.
Sitting back on his haunches, Joel pulls off his shirt and undoes his belt. Shucks his jeans off. He hovers back over you with a newfound ferocity in his eyes.
“Up,” he orders. Helps you sit. You pull your own shirt off and toss it aside. Unclasp your bra and let it fall from your body as Joel stares wolfishly at your exposed chest.
Your eyes, on the other hand, fly straight to his cock. It tents in his boxer, his bulge a bit intimidating, and you feel yourself beginning to salivate.
He chuckles above you, hand coming to rest placatingly on your waist.
“Think you can take it, baby?”
In truth, you're not entirely sure. But you're sure as hell not about to waste any more time wondering.
“Please just – fuck me.”
He shifts his weight. Props your ankle atop his back and rests with his elbows on either side of you. And then he grinds against you, the heft of his hard cock rubbing against your bare pussy.
“Patience,” he tuts. “We got nothin’ but time.”
#summerlovin24#joel miller fic#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller x reader#joel miller x f!reader#joel miller x female reader#tlou fic#the last of us fanfiction#pedro pascal fic#pedro pascal characters
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Wingman
Pairing: Himbo!Joel x Reader
Summary: Your bestie braves the tampon aisle for you.
Warnings: 18+. Period crackfic starring Himbo!Joel—don’t take it too seriously. R has a uterus that hates her. Mentions of blood, cramps, & hangover-induced puking. Dirty talk, f!masturbation. One (1) Mean Girls reference.
Word count: 1.7k
You were fucked ten ways to Wednesday if you didn’t get your hands on some soap, a steamer, and a supersized box of maxi-pads in the span of the next eleven minutes.
Joel Miller moved like molasses on a flat slab of granite.
“WILL YOU HURRY— THE FUCK— UP?”
Your cheeks were hot. The night air was cold.
Every other word that managed to claw out of your throat was punctuated by a breath—your stomach clenched, and the sex organ below it was in hysterics.
Joel continued to lace up his loafer, clumsy as ever.
“O-kay, okay,” he hummed, “Steamer, soap, and, uh…”
“Pads!”
“Uh-huh. Right. So what kinda…blood stuff is it, again?”
The words were like an aspersion on his tongue. At the ripe old age of forty-seven, Joel still hadn’t quite learned to jibe with the menstrual product lingo, and it showed.
“Heavy flow. Any brand. With wings,” you hissed.
“Boneless or traditional?”
And if he hadn’t been standing outside the truck, foot propped up against the driver’s seat while he tied his shoe, you likely would’ve smacked him upside the head. The glare you gave him was sufficiently vicious to extinguish the smirk, though. Your hand made a fist in the front of your dress, and you groaned, leaning inward.
Joel got the picture and finished his bunny ears quick.
“Sorry.”
Then, a little more sheepish as he straightened up,
“I’m goin’. Be just a minute.”
And he was off.
Your body curled into a ball as soon as he left. It cried in pain, to nothing and no one around but that fugly slut, the nastiest skank bitch you’d ever met, your uterus.
There was no way you and Joel were making it to this rehearsal dinner. You needed to be at the venue by 7:00, the clock on the dash read 6:11, and you were, currently, twenty miles shy of Fredericksburg with a rag between your legs and your best friend scouring the local H-E-B.
That afternoon you’d been running late, so of course you’d thrown on your thin, satin, pre-wedding-ready dress before you left—and forgotten a change of clothes. Joel had been hungover from all the batshit bachelor party antics, so of course you’d had to stop three times along the way just so he could throw up on the side of the road. And, though your friend was many, many things, discreet was not one of them, so of course he’d told you, point-blank, when he saw you reaching for something in the backseat with your butt sticking up:
“You been pissin’ tomato juice or somethin’?”
And you’d looked back in abject horror.
Of course your period had come a week early and made you bleed straight through your bright yellow dress.
Maria was your best friend. You were her maid of honor. Tommy’s groomsmen happened to be the most fuckable bunch you’d ever seen—save for Joel—so there was no way you’d be caught dead at that dinner with the flag of Japan on your ass. And Maria had bought the dress just for you, so you felt like you had to get this bloodstain out.
You lifted your head to peer out the window. Even with the help of a fistful of ibuprofen, you could barely move.
6:29
“Dude, where are you?!”
It was like your phone and the FaceTime call to Joel had just materialized on their own. The man on the screen was blinking slow. Ogling something in front of him.
“So ‘L’ stands for…long?” he said after a beat.
“No, that’s light, Joel, I need a heavy one.”
“This one’s got cardboard in it, I think.”
“That’s a tampon applicator, dipshit.”
In a blink, Joel’s eyes flitted to his phone. His nostrils flared, and he met your gaze with a scowl of his own.
“Well how the hell am I supposed to know that? Only stuck two— three things in a pussy before and it sure as fuck wasn’t cotton,” he griped, and if he were any less mature he likely would’ve rolled his eyes. Drama king.
You winced as another cramp rolled through you. You shook your head and tried to regain your composure.
“Just find a heavy-flow. pad. with wings. for me. Please.”
Joel sighed and turned back to the shelf, eyes searching.
It shouldn’t have been this hard, but it was. You had no doubt Joel had never willingly touched a pussy product before in his life, so the road ahead was treacherous. Silently, you felt the urge to tell him he had no business being in pussy at all if he didn’t bother to learn what came out of one every month, but you let him cook.
His dark, greyish brows drew together in concentration. He leaned forward and reached for a box. Then stopped.
Went low to grab another, before pausing to show you.
“Very close, Joel. That’s a pantyliner.”
You felt somewhat like a mother showing a headstrong four-year-old how to copy shapes onto paper. No, darling, that’s a diva cup—and be careful with that crayon. Joel stood and he stewed and, by the look in his eyes, you’d already resigned yourself to another ten minutes of this back-and-forth rummaging at least.
Then you shifted in your seat, pushing your legs down a bit. They rubbed, of course. In spite of the pain that had seized your whole lower half, you felt a sweet, dull pulse.
You stared hard at Joel’s face on-screen to make sure he hadn’t seen it in yours, but damn that friction felt nice.
Sensitivity elevated with the influx of hormones, no doubt, you sat tight and tried to enjoy the feeling on purpose for a moment. You slowly sucked in a breath.
“Aw, hell, there’s just too many’a these damn boxes.”
You flexed your thigh muscles and let out a sigh.
“I don’t know how y’all do it,” Joel grumbled.
Keep looking, Miller. Just keep looking.
Slowly, your hips began to stir, and one small grain of pleasure gave way to a jolt—a twist in the pit of your belly that made the pain less grating. You leaned into it more.
Holding your phone, you could feel when Joel let out a frustrated groan. The sound low and almost enticing.
Wait.
Wait.
“Gross,” you said out loud, half-whispered.
You couldn’t help it. Joel was one of your closest friends; a man who loved beer die, Pall Malls, and Keith Whitley like nobody’s business and gave suffocating bear hugs whenever he was sweaty just to gross you out. You weren’t supposed to find men like that attractive.
But when the grit of his voice was just so nice…
“What?” Joel stopped to look down again.
“What?” you shot back, instantly.
A frown tugged at his lips.
“What’s ‘gross’? Me?”
Not…exactly, no.
More disgusted with yourself than anyone else, you clamped your legs together and shook your head. You tried to swallow, as if the action might suck the pleasure down with it, but the hot, throbbing sensation only grew.
You were practically grinding into the towel that had been stuffed between your thighs when you heard:
“Wings!”
An exceptionally proud Joel displayed a box of extra heavy-duty maxi-pads, with wings. He was grinning.
You weren’t sure if you thanked him next, congratulated the man, or what. You probably strung some words together and tried to return the smile as best you could, but who knew? The next thing you saw was that the line had gone dead, the truck was silent, and all that could be heard above the hum of the engine were your moans.
You braced yourself against the seat and rolled your hips even harder. Out of habit, you caught your lip between your teeth to prevent a louder sound from escaping, but then you remembered there was no one to hear you but you—for now. Your palm pressed flat on the dashboard, your knees squeezed even closer, and your vision flooded with soft, minuscule pinpricks of an all-too-familiar hue.
The only thing new to you here was Joel—the thought of him had never crossed your mind in moments like these.
But now you were closing your eyes, humping the seat with nothing between your body and the old, weathered upholstery but a scrap of fabric. And you were moaning his name. Imagining a face that was littered with coarse, grey stubble—you might’ve teased him for that once or twice before—and lips that were soft. So soft against your own that you wouldn’t think twice if he tried to slip his tongue inside and hold the sides of your face as he filled your cunt to the brim. In fact, Joel’s mouth would be a welcome distraction. Knowing how foul he was in even friendly confab, he’d undoubtedly be whispering the most vile things in your ear while he fucked you.
Reminding you, quietly, that you made such a pretty cocksleeve for him—why didn’t we try this sooner?— and how you’d be the sweetest thing if you just gave his cock another squeeze and made yourself cum all over it.
The mental image of that alone was inducement enough.
You felt a hot, euphoric band of something start to give way inside you. It tightened up, twisted—then snapped. Your mouth fell open and your thighs clenched tighter, grinding desperately in tandem with a pace you’d hoped Joel might’ve set if he were laying there underneath you. You clung to one last thought of him gripping your hips and bruising your walls with the force of his cock driving in and out, over and over again until, eventually, his cum was leaking out through each fluid thrusting movement. It was all your body could take, conjuring thoughts of his load spilling into you and onto him in warm, wet, sticky—
Whistling.
Someone was whistling outside. Walking up to the truck.
You were still coming down from the staggering heights of your climax when the driver’s side door swung open. You blinked furiously, as though to drive all the filth and depravity and need from your eyes before he could see.
It didn’t matter.
Joel was too amped up off a white plastic baggy to be concerned with much else as he plopped down beside you and smiled—beamed, really. Completely oblivious.
Your extremities were still twitching with the residuum of bliss when he reached for your hand. His eyes somehow warmer than they’d been all that day, they sparkled and shone and crinkled at the corners in a way that seemed to say the words before his mouth had uttered a sound.
“I got three boxes to be safe…”
Joel was really too sweet.
“…and some chocolate for your cramps…”
Always so considerate.
“…and you look real pretty when you cum, by the way.”
This motherfucker.
#THINKING ABOUT……..….....….BIG DUMB IDIOT MEN AND OPEN-MOUTHED KISSING 💔💔#AND A LITTLE BIT OF CHICKEN FRIED#COLD BEER ON A FRIDAY NIGHT#A PAIR OF JEANS THAT FIT JUST RIGHT#AND THE RADIO UUUUUUUUP 😫#joel miller smut#joel miller#joel miller x reader#joel miller x you#joel miller tlou#joel miller imagine#joel miller one shot#joel miller fanfiction#the last of us#tlou#the last of us fic
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Joel Miller Masterlist - NSFW
and: Javi P., Ezra, Javi G.
Version 1/17/25 (cleaned up, last added: no hard feelings)
Blog FAQ / MAIN MASTERLIST / notifs: @toxicfics / recs: @toxicrecs
📢 You can find my latest fics here, on @toxicfics, or on my profile header by clicking "latest fics."
⚠️ I do not give permission for any of my work to be copied, translated, made into bots, put into AI, etc.
⚠️ 18+ x f!reader unless otherwise noted. Read warnings! Sometimes dark means it has dubcon (DC) or noncon (NC). the NC I write is physically enjoyed by reader. DC can involve a diminished ability to truly consent. Like drugs, captivity, or power imbalance. sometimes it may look like enthusiastic consent.
If you can't decide where to start, Buzzfeed quizzes are at the bottom. They're just for fun but might help lol
🍒 innocent reader | 💤 somnophilia | 👴/🧔♂️ explicit age gap | ⭐ fave | subjective ratings: D - darkish | DD - dark | DDD - ultra dark
JOEL MILLER
JOEL MASTERLISTS
AUs, Collections, and Series
POST-OUTBREAK JOEL MASTERLISTS
Raider DD. After making his men spare you, Joel decides to take you for himself. Emotional slow burn, smut all along. Extensive masterlist.
Left in Lincoln (dbf x virgin) 👴🍒 DD Your parents trust Joel to look in on you while they're gone. You yearn to have him carnally.
Aches, thoughts, and needs (4 parts) 👴🍒 you join Joel on his journey to Jackson, and soon there's only one sleeping bag.
Speakeasy (Collection, no plot) - Exhibitionist one shots and drabbles set in a Speakeasy.
ALTERNATE UNIVERSE JOEL MASTERLISTS
Night walks 👴 D, DC (drugs). Your hot, sleazy pothead neighbor is a little obsessed.
Slasher Joel DD, DC - You're DTF the sleazy tow truck driver but end up fucking for your life.
Stepdad 🧔♂️D You catch him perving on your insta and start toying with him. You seduce him.
Thighs out (bf's dad) - Your bf strays and his hot, slutty dad makes you feel better, much better.
Vampire Joel D, DC - he's been waiting for you for centuries and can't let you go once he finds you.
Jalbird - horny miniseries, Joel "Jojo" miller is your cellmate's nephew. Lots of dirty talk
Free Use - D, DC, 💤 PWP drabbles where you and Joel have a free use agreement.
Silence can never be bought (dbf)👴 You catch him in a compromising position.
JOEL & TOMMY MASTERLIST - "brotherly sharing": various Joel & tommy pairs share (different reader for each pair). Includes Miller Bros. (Daddy Joel & Uncle tommy), Leopard Print, Twin Peaks (Biker AU), and Tommy's Hard Day.
JOEL ONE SHOTS & TWO SHOTS
POST-OUTBREAK JOEL FICS
For Survival - outbreak day (1.4k) - Joel saves your life, but you can't clear your heads until the sexual tension is broken. For Survival 2 - sleeping bag (1.4k) - you have to be quiet.
Lazaretto (NC sex pollen)👴 you're quarantined & treated in a tent, and the fog treatment has a strange effect on Joel PART 2, DC
⭐What you're missing D, NC 💤 you share a sleeping bag with Joel on a hunting trip.
Patrol - pt. 1; virgin patrol 👴🍒 DD, DC creep patrol partner, huddling for warmth
Caught DDD very mean dark Joel catches you, then punishes you more At the table with his crew there. Tommy tucks you in.
Dark mode DDD You activate Joel's dark mode for your own enjoyment. Then Clicking (horny! joel -> dark mode)
The old fashioned way (1k) Joel is a breeder for vaccine research, and he makes it feel good.
Ready 🍒 - Tommy provides emotional and physical support as you lose your virginity to Joel.
Movie night in Jackson, you get frisky under a blanket, surrounded by people.
Virgin sex worker (v loss) D 🍒 - Joel finds out he's your first, and does his best to be gentle.
Secret breeder!Joel Refuses to pull out D - established couple, drabble of their typical sexual encounter
caught masturbating (300) D
Parts - You have a crush on Joel and push him until he gets annoyed. Game Joel.
AU JOEL FICS
⭐ Just the tip 🍒 DC (power imbalance) You're a maid and your client coaxes you into full piv. surveillance (imagine). Just the tip really (pt. 2) 2
Pawn shop (GILF Joel) D - you're in a bind, and Joel has cash.
Canopy - close call with dbf in your old bedroom. pt 2 🧔♂️ do you get caught?
That's the spot - you want it harder. Can you get masseur!Joel to cross a line?
Window - peeping Tom jacking off, pt.2 date next door - the tables kinda turn D
Night Talks 🧔♂️🍒 D, DC your best friend's dad coaxes you into getting high, and more.
Locket DD, DC - dark!reader has her way with her friend's dad.
Sleeping Beauty 👴💤, CNC break-in.
Packing: butcher!Joel DD, DC (NC?)
Fucking dbf Joel at your dad's house - your dad leaves you two alone, and you make your move.
Breeding couple ; Red Dress - pregnancy. Joel is happy to breed you, and cant keep his hands off your pregnant body.
Personal trainer , and part 2 D, DC - Joel offers to train you in his private gym. He's inappropriate and it makes you horny.
Mean Daddy Joel 🧔♂️, a day in the filth
Dark nurse!Joel - sex pollen imagines
Trucker Joel (HCs)
Big fat tally mark (fic event entry) - Joel wears an unneeded cock enhancer
No hard feelings (fic event entry) - 80s AU where you break down on the side of the road
JAVIER PEÑA
NARCOS.
Hunt and peck (2.7k)
⭐ THE RAID (DD) - ongoing series, Javi & Steve find you on a dru.g raid and take you with them.
JAVI GUTIERREZ
The Unbearable Weight of Massive Talent
⭐ Watch you watch him fuck his wife. Nick Cage reluctantly watches your husband Javi fuck you.
The Narrative (D) - you're a PR agent and he's a PR nightmare.
EZRA
PROSPECT.
⭐ The Green - Earthly AU - Ezra performs spoken word at a rave in the catacombs. Ft. a special guest p-boy.
Sleep time (DC): pt. one (250), two 💤(850) D You bait Ezra pt.3 Ezra strikes back.
MAIN MASTERLIST
OTHER FANDOMS
BLOG FUN
READER CREATIONS
See fic masterlists for character-specific reader creations. These are cross-fic posts.
Fun Visuals
Joelkémon cards by @gasolinerainbowpuddles
JOELS AS CATS by @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog
Joel's as cats pt. 2 not-a-unique-snowflake-blog
Joelkémon astrology by @wannab-urs
Mood board of joels by @milla-frenchy
joels as texts by @iamasaddie
Lmk if yours is missing. Y'all are so creative and ily!
Buzzfeed Quizzes by @missannfairy & not-a-unique-snowflake-blog
Which Joel are you most compatible with?
Which Joel are you?
Which Joel to spend the holidays with?
Compatability: Valentine's Edition
MY ANTICS
@toxicbrothel is a magical place where my characters live when they're not in their fics. you'll find a variety of crack BUT ALSO actual smut I've written ("the madame's secret fics").
#joel miller x reader#joel miller#joel miller smut#toxicanonymity ☠️#joel miller masterlist#pedro pascal masterlist#x reader#smut
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✨Saving What Was Lost Part 7: Your Hand In Mine✨
Pre-Outbreak! Joel Miller x fem! reader
Series Masterlist
A/N: Get ready to meet soft, angsty Joel in this chapter. I would like to give him a big hug 🥺
Chapter Summary: Your first day of therapy is a little scary, but Joel helps you through it.
Rating: 18+ only MDNI
Word Count: 4.7k
Chapter Tags: Soft! Joel, so much angst, yearning, reader goes to therapy, dual POV, age gap (reader late 20’s, Joel late 40’s), mentions of violence and kidnapping, grief
Dividers by @saradika-graphics
“You nervous?” Joel asks from the driver’s seat, hands locked around the leather steering wheel.
You nod while your hands fidget with your leggings. “Mmm, a little.” But a little’s a lie. You’re downright terrified. You’ve never been to therapy, never talked about yourself before like that. Well, Joel was the closest. You’ve talked to him, and you’re oddly comfortable with that now. But other than that? You haven’t done this.
He must see the lie on your worried face and the terror ringing through your wide eyes. Giving you a gentle smile, he turns his focus back to the road ahead that’s shrouded in mist from the December rain. “Don’t be. Tess is great. You’re going to be great, sweetheart. I know it’s scary, but just know you’re taking that first step into the unknown. That first step of healing, and you’re going to do so well. I jus’ know it.”
He’s always so supportive, so gentle, so easy with you. It makes your heart clench, makes it beat a little more just for him.
You take a good look at him. Watch as he cards a hand back through his tousled curls, watch as his green flannel clings to his flexed biceps, watch as that easy smile melts across his plush mouth. He’s just so nice to watch, so easy to keep your eyes trained on.
Darting your tongue across your bottom lip, you tilt your head toward him and give him an easy smile. “You’re always so sure about me.”
“Yeah, guess I am.” He turns his head toward you and gives you a heart-stopping smile. “I guess I see all the potential in those pretty eyes of yours.”
Your mouth parts, cheeks redden as you repeat that sentence over in your mind. He thinks you have pretty eyes. He’s always so sure of you.
Turning back toward the fogged-up passenger window, you lean against the door and smile. A smile that’s bigger than you’ve ever smiled before. You’re completely smitten by the handsome Texas man with big brown eyes. And he’s just continuing to show you how much life is worth living. Telling you how far he thinks you’ll go. But you don’t want to go far in distance. No. You just want to stay right here beside him. You think you’d follow him anywhere.
When he stops at a red light, you brave another stare at him and smile like your whole heart is right there in his eyes. “Thanks for seeing the potential in me.”
One side of his mouth curls up into a crooked smile, and his cinnamon-brown eyes sparkle against the windshield. “You’re so welcome, sweetheart.”
When you catch your breath from melting, you ask, “Sarah said you see Tess, too?”
He nods as the truck’s engine revs to life again. “She’s right. See her every couple of weeks or so. She’s patient and understanding and she really helps, I think. Helps when the nights get a little too dark for me.”
The way he says the last sentence, his low voice sounds a little weary like maybe he fights the nights as much as you do. And you don’t miss the flinch in his right eye or the way his hand tightens on the steering wheel. He must get them too. The nightmares that haunt your dreams every few nights. You wish you could just scoop them up, replace them with dreams of ocean tides or snowy mountains filled with deep green trees. You wish you could take away his pain, whatever’s hurting him so deeply. He hides it well—the pain. But sometimes it creeps up on him, and it spills in different shades across his shadows that slip in his brown eyes. That’s something you don’t miss.
Steady rain pelts against the windows, making the few trees in the distance look like monsters with tangled vines draping low to the ground. You flick your gaze back to Joel in the driver’s seat and another slow smile brushes against your lips. “Thanks again for driving me.”
“It ain’t no trouble, sweetheart. I’ll drive you till you don’t need me to.”
Another skipped heartbeat, another butterfly flitting through your stomach. The man is so sweet.
Biting your lower lip, you brave a question, mildly testing the waters. “What if I always need you to?” It comes out quiet, but not so quiet that he doesn’t hear you.
He slows to a halt at a stop sign and turns to face you, eyes sparkling with promises. “Then I’ll be there every single time you need me.”
“Promise?”
Another smile. “Cross my heart.” He folds a hand over his chest, promising once again.
You giggle under your breath, your eyes never leaving his. “Well, looks like I can trust you then.”
“You can always trust me, sweetheart.” And he means it. You can always trust him, and you know that. God, you know that.
When the tires start spinning again on the damp pavement and the low sounds of an old Western song plays through the speakers, he clears his throat and speaks. “It’s gonna be a late night for me.”
You flip your eyes back to him and give him a worried stare. “Do you have to go somewhere?” You already know what that means. He’s got an important job to do. One where he might be gone all night, maybe till morning.
He nods subtly. “Got an important run I gotta do with Tommy. So I might not be home till mornin’…” His voice cuts off. He knows you hate it when he’s away so long.
“Gone the whole night?” Your voice is a meek whisper because you’re afraid what his answer will be.
He’s silent a beat. “Afraid so, but hopefully that ain’t the case. But still, even if I am back earlier, it’ll be well after two o’clock in the mornin’.”
Your stomach churns just thinking about it. When he’s not across the hall when you’re sleeping, when he’s not just mere feet apart from you, it’s like something’s missing. There’s a void in the pit of your stomach, and you can’t seem to unravel that feeling till he’s in your space again. “I hate when you’re gone all night…” Your words falter, they break like your voice shakes.
“I know, sweetheart. I know.” His right hand drops to the center console, just inches from yours. He seems conflicted, seems like he wants to reach out and graze his calloused skin against yours, but he doesn’t. But he’s trying. He’s still hesitant to touch you because you’re still so unsure of touch. He doesn’t want to scare you, and you know that. He’s just being careful. And maybe you’re still scared of physical touch, but his touch? That warm, gentle, soft graze he sometimes gives you. Well, it feels like sunlight skimming over you.
Carefully, you move your fingers in his direction. Just enough where you can feel the heat of his skin. You don’t touch him, not quite. But this is enough. This is your middle ground. “I umm… I worry about you at night when you’re not home. I’m always scared that… that...” You can’t even speak it out loud. You’re scared he won’t come back one night. And you can’t bear the thought of that.
His brown eyes soften. “I’ll be alright, sweetheart. I’ll come back. I can promise you that.” You give him a small smile and nod, keeping your fingers right by his just so you can feel the heat cover your own skin.
Physical contact is still something you’re struggling with, but you think Joel understands that. And he does. Always so careful around you. Never one to put you in an uncomfortable situation because he does understand your situation. He knows exactly what you’ve been through, and he wouldn’t dare make the wrong move because he doesn’t want to scare you. And you appreciate that. You appreciate him. So this is enough. Right now in this truck—hands centimeters apart, heat gliding over your fingers, a whispered promise that he’s going to take care of you.
Yes. This is enough.
After a few more minutes, Joel’s pulling into a little parking lot, right in front of a tiny building with a lit-up white sign that says "Essence of Healing.” Your heart starts beating faster, your breath tightening in your chest as your eyes scan the brightly-lit sign. “Well, here we are. You ready?” He turns off the ignition and pulls the key out, his brown eyes flitting over to you.
You swallow once and nod, an array of emotions spinning in your head. “Yeah, I think so,” you breathe out as calmly as you can.
He gives you an encouraging smile and pushes the door open. “C’mon, then.” You open the passenger door slowly and close it with a bang, your knees shaky, legs wobbly with every step you take toward the door.
This is it. You’re actually going to talk to a therapist for the first time in your life. What if you’re not ready, what if you choke, what if you burst out into tears and can’t sputter words from your choked-up throat? These are all valid questions, ones you never really considered, but you’re here. You have to do this. You have to do it for yourself. You owe that much to yourself. You are worth it.
When Joel goes up to the front desk with you, the one covered in green succulents and a calming, trickling desk fountain running the corner, you collect all the paperwork you need to fill out and in exchange give her your photo ID. Joel was kind enough to go with you to get a new one since your old one was lost somewhere in Washington. As for health insurance, Joel was paying out of pocket for you to be seen. But he promised he was working to get you on your own health insurance plan. You still don’t know why he’s being so nice to you, but without him, you’d probably be dead by now…
After a few minutes of fighting with the paperwork and scribbling out wrong information, you’re about to break out in tears. They’re swelling in the backs of your eyes, making your lips quiver and the words blur on the page.
“Hey. You’re alright,” Joel coos, taking the pen from your shaky hand. “Let me help.” And you do let him. He fills out the questions you couldn’t answer yourself—his home address, your phone number you still haven’t memorized, emergency contact information, insurance details, even going as far as helping you fill out medical questions you’re having trouble with.
As you look up at him all focused and intent on getting your paperwork done, a little spark sizzles in your chest. You study him—eyes glued to the page, jaw flexed as his rapt attention is on each question, tousled curls a little disheveled as he cards his fingers attentively while he thumbs through the pages. You’re a little mesmerized, a little surprised he didn’t just leave you to shovel through the numerous papers. Instead, he chose to stay right by your side, saving you from breaking down from the weight of so many unknowns.
You’re scared, a little overwhelmed, a little more nervous than you’d like to be. But with Joel, it seems like you can get through anything.
When the paperwork is all completed and he’s back at your side, waiting patiently for them to call you back, you feel a little better—like you can do anything if he’s there next to you. Call him your knight in shining armor, but he truly is. He keeps saving you, and you hope he’ll never stop.
The nervous jitters start up again when you glance up at the clock. Five till noon, right when your appointment is supposed to be. Your knee is bouncing up and down in tandem with your flexed fingers against your leggings. Fear trickles down your spine, slides into the deepest parts of your veins. And suddenly, you’re downright terrified.
You’re about to get up, run out the door, but Joel senses your worry. He slides the back of his hand against yours, brushing your skin gently, a way to say ‘Hey, I’m right here.’ And when you look up and see those big brown eyes gazing softly down at you, you instantly quiet down inside. Your knee stops bouncing, and you’re left with this overwhelming peace that seems to radiate through every part of your body. Like a quiet forest that soothes your soul, that’s what Joel does to you. He makes everything else around you so still, so quiet.
When you’re about to say something to break the trance you’re in, you faintly hear your name being called from the open office door.
You sit up straight and look toward the door, up at the woman that just called your name. “That’s me,” you call out with a shaky voice.
“Ahh. There you are.” She strides up to you and holds her hand out. You slowly take it. She has long light brown hair, strong cheekbones, welcoming hazel eyes, and a smile that instantly soothes you. “I’m Tess, by the way. It’s so good to meet you. This one’s told me a lot about you.” She flicks her eyes to Joel.
When you take her hand, it’s warm. “It’s nice to meet you, Tess. And of course he has.”
Joel shakes his head and lets a low chuckle leave his lips. “Guilty as charged.”
“You got lucky with this one. He’s one of the good ones,” Tess nods as your hands disconnect.
“He is…” you repeat back, getting lost just for a second in his syrupy brown eyes. He seems to get lost in yours too.
“You ready?” Tess asks.
“Oh, uhh. Yeah.” You take a second to push yourself up off the cushioned leather chair, let your legs stop wobbling beneath you.
When you’re just about to follow her back, Joel’s low voice serenades your ears. “I’ll be right here waitin’. You’re gonna do great, sweetheart.”
“Thanks, Joel.” You give him a lasting smile, until Tess beckons you back to her office.
“Come on. This way.”
With one last glance his way, you watch the front office door shut and what awaits you is a long hallway with mint-green wallpaper. Pictures of oceans, fields of wildflowers, and open spaces fill the painted walls. A small white table sits in the middle of the hall with multi-colored flowers hanging over the table that are tucked inside a cream-colored pot.
When you make it to the fourth door on the left, Tess nods inside and lets you go first. “Welcome to my office. Hope it’s cozy enough for you.”
Gasping, you take in her array of rocks and seashells on her back wall. Dozens of colorful shapes and sizes fill the expanse of it. But what really catches your attention is all the little sand dollars spread out by her computer monitor. Her walls are almost the color of sunlight, and she’s got a massive portrait of a west coast beach framed with love behind her desk chair. A white leather couch sits right across from her mahogany desk, and the scent of soothing lavender fills the air.
“It’s perfect,” you whisper, amazed by all the decorative details of her office. It’s so inviting and welcoming. It instantly calms you down.
“Glad you like it,” she smiles. “Well, have a seat. Get comfortable.” You comply as she gets situated in her chair and pulls up your paperwork. Sifting through it for a minute, she looks up at you with a bright smile lit across her face. “So. This is your first session, is that correct?”
“Yeah. I… I’ve never done this before,” you answer honestly, a little scared of what she might say, but she only gives you another encouraging smile.
“Well, you came to the right place then. We’re just going to take this slow, take it one session at a time. Healing is a journey. There’s no one single path to it. We’ll do what works for you, what you’re comfortable with. That sound okay to you?”
“Mhm,” you nod with your hands clasped tightly in your lap. You’re so fucking nervous, but this is normal, right? Everyone is scared of something they’ve never done before. But this? It seems like all your secrets will surely be unmasked, and that terrifies you. Sharing your past—what happened to you—isn’t going to be easy. Not one bit.
“I can see you’re scared, but you don’t have to be. This is a safe space. You can talk to me about anything. It’s all confidential. Nothing you say goes out that door.”
Your eyes flit to the closed oak door, and you nod in acknowledgment. “Right… Okay.”
She scoots back and crosses one leg over her knee, leaving the open papers splayed on her desk. All attention is on you now. “How about we start from the beginning. Before… before you were taken. Maybe start with your childhood?”
“Oh… I… Well, that’s a lot to tell,” you gulp out nervously. Your childhood trauma is a whole other monster you still haven’t tackled.
She smiles. “We’ve got an entire hour today. And if you come back, we’ll have many more sessions to unravel your past.”
You bite your bottom lip and nod, your nerves getting the best of you, but you push through. “Okay…” You take a deep breath and dive in head first. “Here goes nothing.”
Four o’clock flashes like an alarm on the oven clock, telling him he’s been gone for hours, but really, it feels like it’s been days. He reaches for the open whiskey bottle and pours the amber liquid over the square ice cubes in the glass. Every drop looks like the trickles of fresh blood that’s stained his flannel permanently. He should’ve fucking known tonight was not the night to wear nice flannels.
He scuffs his leather boots against the hardwood floor, dragging his tired legs from the kitchen to the living room, till he’s collapsed in a heap on the leather couch—one hand curled around the cold glass, the other raking down his face excruciatingly slow.
He failed. He was too late. Just minutes from being on time. Maybe he could’ve saved her. Saved that innocent little girl from her executioners. But he couldn’t…
As he closes his eyes, he sees the flash of red covering the dark walls, serenading the lace of her pink dress. Eleven-years-old, just shy of turning twelve, a daughter that’ll never be able to return home to a worried mother and father.
He curses under his breath, feels the tears pour like droplets of water down his cheek. She didn’t deserve to die, didn’t deserve to be scared and all alone. He was supposed to save her, was supposed to get her out. That was his mission, and he fucking failed.
Three minutes. He was just three fucking minutes shy of saving her life, but he was too late. He misjudged the distance, didn’t realize the captors were early to their destination. He got there right after they smothered her—silencing her terrified screams forever. He can still hear them like shrill sirens blasting through the base of that rundown building. This isn’t the first time he’s been too late, but God. This one hurts like hell because it reminds him of someone he lost along the way. Someone he loved just as much as Sarah.
And so, he did what he did best. He took them out—all the men that had hurt her. Thankfully, he took backup, including Tommy. He smothered their screams, pushed daggers into their throats, shot them dead in a frenzy of rage while his teeth were clenched and eyes were fogged with held-in tears. When he looked at that poor, lost girl—it nearly took him to his knees. Those eyes. Those same lifeless hazel eyes that still haunt his dreams to this day. They were the same shade as hers… The little girl that forever changed his life. The one that he wishes was still here…
Ellie… That little girl tonight looked just like his lost daughter—the one he saved all those years ago. But he never fully saved her. Not after… not when he let her go…
A wave of emotions floods through his chest as he takes another stiff drink of alcohol, letting the whiskey burn through him while visions of hazel eyes and crimson fill his foggy mind.
He was too late. He fucked up. He misjudged the minute hand from the second hand. Time slipped away from him. And before he knew it, everything he planned for was lost to the eerie night. Instead, it ended in bloodshed and turmoil. He hates it. Hates when things have to get extremely violet, but what choice did he have? He had to take them out because they stole an innocent life—a life he was supposed to keep safe.
He’s so lost in the crimson-stained memories in his mind that he almost misses that small, meek voice of yours. “Joel?”
When he opens his eyes, a part of his soul shatters. There you are, a plush blanket wrapped around your shoulders, heartbreaking eyes shining over to him from the staircase. You take in his half-drank glass of whiskey and the dried tears that stain his cheeks. But also, you see the faint crimson that tarnishes his flannel shirt.
Blood. There was so much blood… like a liquid pool of death.
He adjusts his back against the leather cushion and sits up a little straighter, just so he looks less worn down and broken than he already is. You see right through him though. You always do. “Sweetheart, it’s late. Why don’t you…”
“Are you… okay?” Your voice whispers across the room, silences the crackling embers in the fireplace. Your voice… it sounds broken too.
“I, uhh. Jus’ please, go back to sleep.” He tries to push you away, tries to get you to return to your room so he can sulk in peace. He doesn’t want you to see him like this. Doesn’t want you to see just how physically and mentally defeated he actually is. He’s not as strong as you think he is. He’s fragile, grainy sand that gets blown away by the wind. He’s not rock-solid; he’s quicksand.
You slide into the seat next to him, close enough where your knee could brush against his. “I’m not leaving you.” There’s finality in your tone, still soft but firm on your decision. And there’s those eyes. Those fucking beautiful eyes that could silence all the built-up pain he has piled on his heart.
You’re so fucking beautiful.
“Are you hurt?” You ghost your hand across the leather, reaching out just enough where he feels the heat of your skin. It soothes him over just a tad, but nothing can quite wipe away the excruciating weight of agony he’s carrying now.
“No. I’m jus’… I’m so tired.” He pinches his eyes closed and takes a deep breath, his hand clutching the cool glass of whiskey like it’s his lifeline. “This job weighs on me like solid concrete. Some nights are so fuckin’ hard. Some nights jus’…” He pauses, takes a deep breath in and blows another out. He can’t finish. He’s too tired, too strained from the past few hours, months, years.
He’s so fucking tired; he just needs some rest, some peace, some symbolism that he knows he’ll get to the finish line. But he’s been so struck down ever since he met that certain hazel-eyed little girl. Ellie. His little girl…
“What happened tonight?” Your voice comes off as a whisper. Maybe you’re just as scared to hear what he has to say.
He taps the edge of his thumb against the solid glass and takes a deep breath. “We uhh… I lost her. Her name… her name was Abigail. Just a little eleven-year-old, and I was supposed to save her, to get her back to her parents. But I… I was too late. I was too fuckin’ late.” There it is. The pen drops, another tear splashes down his stained flannel, and he’s lost to grief again.
You pause a beat, but you gasp loud enough for him to hear the horror in your voice. He’s a failure. You must think he’s such a failure. “Joel… I’m so… God. I’m so sorry.” There’s only sorrow in your lilty voice, no anger or resentment that he failed yet another soul. You’re just as sad as him, he thinks.
“I failed her… I failed everyone…” He shakes his head, sets his mind a little straighter just so he can grit the words out. “Sometimes I feel like none of this is worth it, like I don’t make a difference. Because when this happens, it makes me feel like I’m already six feet underground.”
“Oh, Joel. No.” He feels it—the couch creak beneath him, the weight of your body sliding over, your hand inching closer to his. “You save so many lives. You make every bit of difference. You change lives.” There’s so much assurance in your voice; you’re trying to soothe him over.
He snaps his eyes shut and shakes his head, anything to stop the burning sensation in his watery eyes. Maybe if he doesn’t blink then he won’t feel the pain of this gut-wrenching moment. “But I… I couldn’t save her… I couldn’t save…”
Ellie…
With his eyes still shut tight, he feels warmth wrap around his hand, feels the soft caress of your skin. And when he opens his eyes wide, he sees the most beautiful shades of softness gleaming from your pretty eyes.
“You saved me. And that… that means everything to me. You saved me. You saved your daughter. You saved so many lives. You are a hero, and don’t you dare think otherwise. Not for one second.” There’s tears licking your lash line, the most sincere look over your pretty face. A desperate plea to get through to him. And in that moment, he believes you for a second. Believes that he is a hero, even when he doesn’t believe it himself.
His bottom lip trembles as tears gather in his watery eyes. Something hits him deep in the gut. Longing, the fear of losing you, and an all-consuming wave of tender emotions. He sees you. He really sees you. Such a beautiful soul. Such a lovely, amazing woman. To think he almost didn’t go to that auction, almost wasn’t able to save you. What would he do if he never found you? It stings to even think about. Because you… Well, you’re everything all at once. And he’s so fucking soft for you.
Carefully, softly, he laces his fingers through yours, holds on for dear life, praying you never let go.
Don’t let go. Never let go.
Your hand is a perfect fit for his. Every line, edge, dip carved specially for his hand to fit in. The weave of your fingers against his, the light brush of your skin, the heat that spirals into complete warmness when your skin slips against his—you were fucking made for him, just as he was for you, he thinks. Because when your bright eyes and soft smile are in his presence, he sees pure sunlight, sees the pure angelic essence you’re bathed in.
He was made to find you. This much he knows. And whether you choose to stay or go—he’ll have this moment to hold on to. Because he got you once. Your hand in his. This right here is everything he’s ever needed. It may just be your hand brushing against his, your fingers intertwined together, but it feels like home. You feel like home.
So, he lets the soft rain pelt outside against the living room windows, lets the dying fire crackle and pop in the fireplace, and savors the feel of your honey-like soft skin sliding against his. And he stays there for several minutes, maybe an hour, and there’s only silence shrouding the room. But your touch? It screams volumes, makes him feel human again.
For a breath of a moment, you’re his.
Texas rain was a rare phenomenon. Misty showers only a once in a while type thing. But you? You made it pour, made the flood waters wash clear through Austin. He didn’t see it coming, didn’t expect anything like you. But it sure as hell knocked him clear off his feet when you bathed him in your electric thunderstorms.
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[SUMMARY: Sarah’s out of town and calls for her father to pick you up at the bar. While drunk and feeling lonely you say things to your best friend’s father that only make it hard for him to resist you.
Teasing, age difference, masturbation
“That was of course the main secret…you had no idea just how much you aroused him. You had no idea you left him with an ache that he knew he couldn’t fulfill…not with you being Sarah’s friend. “
It was one in the morning on a Saturday night and Joel found himself dozing off on the couch until a call from his daughter woke him up.
“Sarah, what’s the matter?” He sat forward not expecting a call from Sarah so late.
“I’m sorry to bother, I know it’s late. It’s y/n”
“What is it?” He asked.
“She’s super drunk and she thought I was in town and asked me for a ride, I’d call a cab for her but she sounds really out of it. Can you please just pick her up, just let her sleep it off in my room”
“Of course, baby” he stood up and grabbed his keys as his daughter instructed him on where to find you.
Once arriving Joel noticed you out front talking to a man by yourself. Pulling up a few feet away from you, the car screeched as he quickly got out and walked towards you.
“Mr…Miller?” You looked at him confused as he approached you giving the man you spoke to a threatening look.
“Come on, let’s go”
“I was just about to give her a ride home” the man insisted with a beer in hand.
“No need for that, you can leave”
“Mr. Miller….what are you doing…here?” You began to giggle leaning back against the wall. Joel had never seen you this way before, a dress, thigh high tights with heels that you were struggling to balance on while clearly very heavily intoxicated.
“I’m takin’ ya home”
“Oh but I don’t…I don’t wanna go home yet. I was just making a friend…” you grinned.
“Come on, it’s time to go” he took hold of your hand as you stumbled to the side.
“I can take her home man, trust me” the guy insisted as Joel looked at him directly in the eye without letting you go.
“I got about two seconds left in me before ya really piss me off so I suggest you get on outta here” the guy took a step back eventually leaving as you sighed.
“Oh no….whys he leaving?” Joel could tell you were going to give him a hard time and took a deep breath.
“Sorry honey” he whispered before unexpectedly throwing you over his shoulder. You squealed kicking your legs as he held you tightly walking back to his truck.
“What are you doing?!” You yelled as he sat you down in the passenger seat and put the seatbelt over your chest.
“I’m gettin you home” he whispered slightly irritated. Not fighting it you watched as he clicked the belt in and closed the door. His cellphone ringing as he made his way around to the drivers seat.
“Yeah, baby I got her” Joel answered seeing it was Sarah. You looked up hearing him talk as he started the car.
“Where’s Sarah?” You asked as you rubbed your eyes realizing he was speaking to her.
“She’ll be back in the mornin’” Joel responded still holding the phone to his ear.
“I think your dad’s pissed at me” you spoke loud enough for Sarah to hear.
“Sorry dad, she never drinks this much, I guess she was just very upset her boyfriend broke up with her” Sarah sighed.
“It’s alright, I’ll get her home. She’ll be fine” he assured her before driving off.
“You’re soooo mad at me” you spoke softly with your eyes half closed.
“No, honey I ain’t” he responded without looking your way.
Once Joel pulled up into his driveway he looked over at you to see you were asleep.
Picking you up in his arms he bought you inside laying you on the couch so he could prep the room. Once he lay you down you mumbled something in your sleep that he couldn’t understand before opening your eyes.
“What time is it?” You pushed yourself up turning towards him barely balancing yourself.
“Its about to be two”
“Two? I gotta get home-“ you tried to stand up before he quickly sat you back down.
“No, honey you’re stayin’ here tonight. Lay down” your eyes half open as you leaned back and noticed you still had your heels on.
“My shoes…”
“I got em” Joel got down on one knee as he took off the straps sliding each shoe off your foot and placing them aside.
“I hate men…men are such…assholes” you suddenly spoke with your eyes closed. Joel looked up at you silently before your eyes fluttered open.
“Sorry..my stupid…ex left me for some other girl and-“ you raised your brows as you lost train of thought.
“Mr.Miller…” you sighed as you swayed your head from left to right. Your mind not making sense as you thought of how low your ex made you feel.
“Can I ask you something…?” He raised a brow curiously.
“Sure”
“Do you…do you think I’m pretty…?” Your question catching him off guard.
“Honey, I think you need to get some rest-“
“Can you just answer the question” you blurt out. Desperate for anything to make you feel better after being rejected by a man you had loved for four years.
“Course I do” he whispered. You gave him a lazy smile pleased with his response. Of course he thought you were pretty, he always did. Looking down you realized your stockings had rolled down and sighed. Attempting to lean forward to fix them you almost fell towards him until he caught you.
“I got cha” he whispered with his hands on your arms.
“My stockings…I’m trying to fix-“
“I got em, sit still” you leaned back as he propped your foot on his leg. Joels eyes quickly roamed up your legs as you sat before him until he caught himself and cleared his throat. You watched as he lifted the stocking back in place but stopped before your knee.
“They go higher…” of course he knew they went higher but that meant his hands would move further up your legs and he couldn’t have that…not with the feelings he was beginning to have. Feelings he knew he couldn’t have towards his daughter’s friend, it wasn’t appropriate. The thought of his hand coming so close to your-
“Mr.Miller?” He looked up at you with his big brown eyes realizing once again where his mind was drifting off to.
“Hm?” He responded with your foot still on him.
“Can you…can you put them higher?” You asked softly.
Why the hell did you need them higher for? You were only making this harder for him. Taking a deep breath he slowly slid them up to your thighs. You looked down and watched as his hands brushed along your inner thigh making his body tense.
“You have…you have big hands” you whispered as he proceeded to fix the next one. The feel of his hands touching your thighs, you found yourself getting aroused. His eyes focused on where his hands moved as a soft moan escaped your lips making him look up. His heart practically beating out of his chest as he watched your hips slightly squirm moving close against him.
“Mr.Miller?” You murmured.
“Can I ask you something else?”
“Mhm” he held his breath, your leg still on his.
“So you don’t think there’s anything wrong with me..?”
“Not at all” he whispered anxiously awaiting what you had to say. Your eyes struggling to stay open, your words still slurring as you spoke.
“So….if I asked you to…would you fuck me…?”
He froze, speaking your drunken thoughts loudly you didn’t think twice.
“Would you…?” You began to pull the straps of your dress off your shoulder.
“Don’t” he quickly stopped your hand from pulling your straps any further.
“Why…?” You pushed yourself up towards him, barely able to balance your body he held you by your waist keeping you still. Your eyes struggling to stay open as your hands fell on his shoulders slowly moving to his chest.
“Why don’t you wanna fuck me…?”You whispered with a slight frown.
“Just this one time….please…I’m so wet right now..” His jaw clenching as he felt you tug at his shirt, the ache he began to feel throbbing in his pants becoming too much to bear.
“Come on, let’s get you to bed” he abruptly stood up and picked you up as you mumbled things he couldn’t understand drifting in and out of sleep. Drunk wasn’t the word, he wondered if you’d remember any of this in the morning. A part of him hoping you would.
Laying you down, he watched you turn towards the wall falling into a deeper sleep.
Slowly he pulled a blanket over you before taking a step back. Rubbing his face he tried to snap himself out of the thoughts you put in his mind. Thoughts that he knew couldn’t happen as aroused as they may have made him. His phone suddenly buzzing distracting him when he noticed his daughter was calling.
“Hey, she in bed?” Sarah asked.
“Yeah, yeah, she’s asleep” he assured her.
“Was she crying? Or talking your ear off?” She chuckled.
“No no, she uh, went straight to sleep” he responded as if you hadn’t just been asking him to fuck you giving him a massive hard on.
“Oh good, so I’ll be there around eight. See you soon, thanks and goodnight dad”
“Goodnight baby” he clicked his phone off and took a deep breath.
He could barely walk with how hard you left him, he hoped a cold shower would help him as he began to run the water.
Standing in the shower he let the cold water fall over him but nothing seemed to help. His cock was solid as he struggled to stop thinking about the way you practically begged for him.
“Just this one time..” he could hear your voice in his head repeatedly. Unable to help himself any longer he began to stroke himself, picturing you taking in every inch of him. Begging for more and more until you couldn’t take it anymore. His eyes rolling back as his hand moved faster, his body leaned sideways against the wall, he knew he was about to explode. After how long he held himself he couldn’t control it any longer. Balancing himself with one hand on the wall in front of him, he leaned over as he came heavily..
“Holy fuck” he breathed deeply, stroking himself slowly. The cold shower refreshing him as he took a step back and let the water wash over him.
The next day you woke up to a pounding headache and slight nausea.
“I’m never drinking again” you grumbled rubbing your head before you began to look around and noticed where you were.
“Sarah?” You looked to the other side of the room to see you were alone.
“Shit” you sighed, you forgot she had left town a few days ago which only meant her father had bought you here. Struggling to understand how that even came to be you began to get little flashbacks of the night before. His large hands rolling up your stockings you covered your lips in shock with yourself when you remembered something you said.
Did you say it? Or did you just think it?
“Jesus Christ” you whispered rubbing your forehead.
Slowly opening Sarah’s bedroom door tip toed to the bathroom before Joel could see you. Freshening yourself up you looked at yourself in the mirror and took a deep breath. The cold water touching your skin slightly relieving a bit of your headache before you walked out.
Walking to the kitchen you could see Joel with his back to you reading something on the counter. Unsure of what to say you hesitated to walk towards him when he turned around.
“Hi” you whispered awkwardly as he stared at you at the doorway.
“Mornin’” he mumbled low, he wondered if you remembered anything from the night before.
“I um..-“ you took a few steps forward.
“Did Sarah ask you to bring me here?”
“Mhm. You were upset and drunk…she was worried. I found ya outside with some jackass tryna take ya home” you looked down a bit embarrassed.
“But I wasn’t gonna let that happen, I bought cha right back here like Sarah asked” he assured you as he took a couple steps forward.
“Look, I’m so sorry if I said anything-“ you looked up at him noticing how much closer he was. Eagerness in his eyes as he looked down at you holding back from all the things he truly wanted to say.
Just by the look he gave you, you knew what you remembered wasn’t a dream. Last night you were asking your best friends dad to fuck you, your realization leaving you speechless. You wondered if it had gone any further, you wondered what else was said.
“Did we-“
“No” he quickly cut in.
“I wouldn’t have allowed that in your state” he assured you but you could tell he wanted to say more. The tension between you two was something you couldn’t describe.
”What else did I say or do..?” You asked hesitantly. Joel stood silent for a moment, looking to the side he remembered how you attempted to pull your dress down, he remembered how you wrapped your arms around him, tugged at his shirt as you begged to have him inside you…but he didn’t dare admit it. He knew you were embarrassed enough to then go into detail on all the things that aroused him. That was of course the main secret…you had no idea just how much you aroused him. You had no idea you left him with an ache that he knew he couldn’t fulfill…not with you being Sarah’s friend.
“Mr.Miller?” Your voice distracting him from his thoughts making him look up.
“Did I say anything else?” You asked once again as his body language became tense.
“No” he turned away finding something to keep himself busy with in the kitchen. He could feel himself getting hard just thinking about last night and he needed you gone. Now.
“I didn’t expect for Sarah to call you nor did I even plan on drinking that much, I just..” your voice trailing off in the background as he fought the urge he felt.
“I just wanted to apologize” he suddenly slammed his fist down on the counter cutting you off. He couldn’t take it any longer.
“You need to leave” he blurt out without turning back to you
“Oh…I...” he left you speechless, never had he spoken to you this way, you hadn’t even realized he was pissed.
“I’m sorry Mr.Miller” you whispered before grabbing your belongings and quickly walking out. Joel felt guilty asking you to leave the way he did but he knew there was no other way out of this.
Fifteen minutes later Sarah walked in humming to herself expecting to see you.
Joel stood quietly in the kitchen taking a sip of his coffee.
“Hey, how’d you sleep? I was just about to give y/n a ride home” she began to walk towards her room as her father responded.
“She left” she stopped and turned to him with a raised brow.
“When?”
“Just now” he motioned towards the front door without looking at Sarah.
“Why would she leave? Why wouldn’t she wait for me?” Joel stood silent as Sarah walked towards her father in curiosity.
“Did she say anything-“
“Look” he suddenly looked directly into Sarah’s eyes.
“She’s not to come here for some time” his words confusing Sarah. She furrowed her brows dropping her bags.
“What? Why not? Did she do something”
“I don’t need you having that damn influence around ya” he struggled in finding an excuse turning away from her.
“What influence? You know she barely ever drinks, she’s never done this before-“
“Yeah well that’s where it starts and before ya know it you’ll be drunk at some bar with someone loser tryna take ya home” Joel hoped Sarah would drop it. There was no way he could admit the true reason he couldn’t take having you around. Sarah didn’t understand it, shaking her head she crossed her arms.
“Dad she’s my best friend, what am I suppose to tell her?” Joel suddenly turned to Sarah, his eyes looking for answers, wondering what to say.
“Tell her the truth, she’ll understand” he whispered before walking off to his room and slamming the door shut.
Joel frustratedly sat on the edge of his bed. He knew he couldn’t avoid you forever but he hoped the craving he had for you would eventually go away. It had to. He knew nothing could happen between you and him as much as he wanted it to yet his mind couldn’t stop pushing him, pushing him to a point of no return….
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