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joelmillersdumbslut · 9 months

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I think it's time you had a pink cloud summer (part one) (joel miller x f!reader) 18+

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summary: After losing your job and moving back to your hometown, you begin a fast-paced and steamy summer romance with your parents' friend, Joel Miller. (no outbreak AU, no use of y/n)

rating: 18+ explicit (minors do NOT interact)

warnings (for this chapter): age gap (reader is in late 20's, joel is in his 50's), dirty talk, pet names, hand kink (if you squint), mutual masturbation, fingering, hand job, soft!joel, dbf!joel, just a mix of smut and fluff

word count: 5.2k

a/n: this is my self-indulgent attempt at a smut and fluff series featuring my fav, joel miller. hope you enjoy it! ♡

ao3 link

You’re a loser. You’ve resigned to that fact. Your career has abruptly ended at the ripe age of twenty-eight. Over a fucking Zoom meeting, of all the ways to be laid off.

We appreciate all the hard work you’ve done for us.

You’re just not the right fit for this company.

We wish you luck with your future endeavors.

The job you fought so hard for. The one you studied and practiced hours for the interviews alone. The late nights spent at the office, weekends of writing emails and checking for messages from your coworkers. All gone in an instant.

After a few days of crying and wallowing in your misery, you call your parents. They drop everything to help you move back to your childhood home in Austin.

Your room is untouched. Pink bedding, unicorn decals on the walls, plastic glow-in-the-dark stars clinging to the ceiling. You cringe and beg your mom to let you paint over it. But, she loves reminiscing about the good ol’ days of your youth, and asks you to think about it before making any “irrational” decisions. You leave it as is. For now.

While you’re hauling the last box from your car to the house, a hand touches your shoulder. You spin around to see a man. Graying hair, scruffy beard, dressed in dirty jeans and a black t-shirt. His biceps protruding through the cloth. Your first thought is how attractive he is. And how he looks so familiar.

“Hey there, remember me?”

You squint at first before it hits you.

“Mr. Miller? I haven’t seen you since… Since I don’t know when,” you set the box down and he embraces you. His cologne fills your nostrils and you take a deep breath, hoping to remember the smell.

“You call me Joel now, we’re both adults, right?” he chuckles.

Joel lets go, his eyes trained on you. “Thought you were livin’ in Dallas. Had you a big girl job.”

Your face falls, you play with your hair nervously, “Well, I did. Guess they had enough of me.”

“Sorry, babygirl,” he mutters, the word knocking the wind out of you. “Sure you’ll find somethin’.”

“Yeah, if you have any leads, let me know,” you laugh awkwardly.

Since when did Joel get so handsome? Was he always this way, but you were too young to notice? Or care? His long, thick fingers comb out the curls in his hair and your heart skips a beat. Salacious thoughts about those fingers run through your mind before Joel’s gravelly voice brings you back down to Earth.

“Your mama invited me over for dinner. Lemme carry that for you.” Joel picks up the box and heads for the door.

—

“I know it’s weird. Please don’t judge me,” you feel embarrassed at the fact that the hot, older friend of your parents is standing in your childhood bedroom. You feel the urge to rip the decals off the walls, throw the girly bedding out the window. Anything to prove to him you’re not a kid anymore. Your anxiety doesn’t seem to faze him though. He sets the box down on the desk next to your computer, taking in the scenery around him.

“I like the stars,” he says, nodding at the ceiling.

“It’s been so long since I’ve seen a night full of real stars,” you admit. “It’s hard to see them in the city.”

A prolonged pause fills the air. Joel raises his eyebrows, looking to test the waters.

“Maybe I could take you,” he murmurs.

“Like, the two of us?” you ask, stepping closer to him.

“Yeah, just like that,” he affirms. He closes the distance between the two of you. You’re standing face to face. Joel reaches out to caress your cheek. Your body is on fire.

“I’d like that,” you hum.

Joel seems to be thinking. Weighing the options of his situation. You bite your lower lip in anticipation.

And before you know it, Joel’s hand is reaching for yours. It happens so suddenly. His lips crash into you. His beard tickling your skin. You reciprocate, kissing him back, your hand clutching his fingers for dear life. You don’t dare pull away. Not yet. His tongue enters your mouth and collides with yours. Instinctively, you moan, and Joel drops your hand to wrap his arms around your body, pulling you even closer to him. You can feel something poking you through his pants. Your hand moves lower and lower and—

“Honey, dinner’s ready! Have you seen Mr. Miller?” your mom’s voice calls from the hallway.

The two of you separate. Quickly. Joel stands beside the desk, the box blocking his lower half from view. You sit on the bed, ignoring the wetness growing between your thighs.

Your mom is now in the doorway, apron tied around her waist. A delighted expression shines on her face. She has no idea what events just transpired in her daughter’s childhood bedroom. And you are going to make sure she never finds out.

“Joel was just helping me with my moving boxes,” your smile is as sweet as saccharine.

The older man gruffs and moves to tousle your hair, “It’s good to have her back.”

—

You think about his tongue, what it would be like between your thighs. You think about his fingers, wondering what it would feel like if they were to hold your breasts. You think about his cock straining against the denim of his jeans, desperate and hungry. Just for you.

You masturbate all night long.

Thinking of him.

—

In the morning, you decide to go for a walk. You can’t job hunt. Not yet. Not with your mind clouded like this.

You need to figure out where this is going first.

You head down the street and round the corner. Joel’s house is on the left. It’s Monday, but you hope he’s there. Maybe he took the day off from work. How could anyone be expected to focus after that moment in your bedroom?

He’s waiting for you on the front porch. His hands are occupied with his guitar, morning sunlight gleaming against the wood of the instrument. It reminds you of the way he’d play songs for you when you were a teenager. You would sit on the floor of his living room, watching in awe as his fingers danced across the neck of the guitar. You’re trying to recall what exactly he played for you, maybe it was Bob Dylan or Pink Floyd, but that memory soon escapes your brain when Joel glances up at you. He smiles as you carefully take the steps, each foot landing on the wood with a heavy thud. You cross the porch and sit down on the swing next to him.

“Good morning,” you finally say. Your hands are already shaking. Afraid you read the signals wrong. Terrified he may turn you down.

“What do I owe this pleasure?” he asks, setting the guitar down against the porch railing. His arm envelops your frame, pulling you a little closer. Your heart is nearly beating out of your chest.

Your answer is honest. Straight-forward. Simple.

“I came back for more.”

—

You find yourself standing in Joel’s living room. It’s been so many years, but it’s just like how you remember it. Knick knacks, magazines, and books spread out across shelves. A record player with a stack of vinyl in the corner. You thumb through the collection, settling on a Soundgarden album. You vaguely remember Joel telling you about them when you were going through your “emo phase.” You had preferred Nirvana instead. Once you slide the record onto the slipmat of the player and drop the needle, the heavy, sludgy rock music fills the air. You turn back to face him.

He’s been watching you intently, a small grin on his face. “Just makin’ yourself at home, huh, babygirl?”

You blush at that word again. It fills you with a warm, fuzzy feeling. One that feels so wrong that it’s got to be right.

“What, you like when I call you that?” he teases, his hand brushing a strand of hair behind your ear.

“What are we doing?” you ask quietly, your skin burning against his slightest touch. You know exactly what you’re doing. You know what’s about to happen in this house. You just want to hear him say it. Make it come to life. Make your fantasy a reality.

“Whatever you want, pretty girl,” he kisses your forehead, moving down to your neck. The small nips and bites he leaves have you aching for more, but you silently pray he doesn’t create any marks for your parents to see. How would you even begin to explain that?

“Is what we’re doing okay?” you mumble between his kisses, fighting off all the moans trying to escape your lips. “What if my parents find out?”

Joel pulls away, holding your hands. His soft brown eyes stare into yours.

“We don’t gotta do anything you don’t wanna do. We’ll go at your pace,” he whispers. “And if they find out, I’ll take care of it. How’s that sound?”

It’s an offer you can’t refuse.

—

“Ri-right here?” your voice trembles as Joel leads you to the couch. He had suggested you start there before making your way to his bedroom. On one hand, it feels rather adolescent. But on the other hand, there’s something about sneaking around like a couple of teenagers that excites you.

“Remember what I told you,” Joel plants kisses along your hairline as he helps you sit down on the couch. “Whatever you wanna do. Whatever you’re comfortable with.”

He heads into the dining room, returning with a chair. He sits across from you, waiting for you to make the first move.

Moments pass. Joel’s hand reaches out, caressing your cheek. You can feel yourself melt as his calloused fingertips brush against your skin.

“It’s—It’s been a long time since I’ve done anything, with anybody,” you say suddenly, mindlessly picking at your fingernails. “Work kept me busy. I guess I don’t… I don’t even know where to start.”

Joel stares at you, deep in thought. Finally, he asks, “You wanna watch me?”

You glance up at him, amused. You’ve never done this with a partner before. Especially not with an older man like Joel. But, you aren’t going to let your lack of experience stop you.

“Okay,” you grin.

At your command, Joel unbuttons his jeans. He slowly pulls the zipper down. You observe his fluid movements as his cock springs from his boxers, and he begins to stroke himself. Soft moans slip away from his lips. He occasionally looks at you to smile.

After a few minutes of watching Joel touch himself, you begin to feel your insides throb. Thinking about how badly you want him. Your nerves dissipate as you remember what he told you. Whatever you want. At your pace.

“I can’t let you have all the fun,” you giggle as you slip out of your shorts. Joel groans at the sight of you in your underwear.

“Such a pretty thing,” he murmurs, pumping into his hand at a quicker pace. “You gonna play with yourself for me?”

Your hand slips into your panties and you start rubbing your clit. Your fingers moving in slow circles against your already sensitive bud. You whine from your own touch, which causes Joel to crack a smile as he further examines you.

The two of you watch each other. The only sounds in the room consist of your simultaneous labored breathing and the record player needle reaching the end of the vinyl, a dull scratching noise on repeat.

“Can I see you, babygirl?” a whimper breaks away from Joel’s throat. You can see the head of his cock is now glistening in precum. You wonder how close he is.

With a smirk, you kick off your underwear, spreading your legs for him. You swear the old man’s heart stops for just a moment as he stares straight into your dripping pussy. Absolutely hypnotized.

“So pretty,” he exhales, his hand quickening its strokes, “That all for me?��

“It is,” you reply in a hush, “Is that cock all for me?”

“Just for you, babygirl, just for you,” Joel sighs.

You buck your hips as you keep touching yourself. You can feel your orgasm building quickly as you watch Joel. Imagining his cock inside you is pushing you over the edge.

“I think I might cum soon,” you whisper, your fingers moving faster against your clit, fire growing deep inside your belly.

“Can I help you, babygirl?” Joel asks, removing his hand from his cock. You nod frantically, needing something, anything to help you release the tension building inside your body.

The long and thick middle finger of Joel’s hand is suddenly curling up inside you, hitting places you forgot had existed. Places your own fingers can’t even reach. He moves in and out gently. Your body stiffens right as you’re about to let go. You hear Joel mumbling words of encouragement, plenty of them including “babygirl,” as you cum all over his couch, your arousal trickling down the back of your thighs and sticking to the fabric.

Joel follows you soon after. He takes your slick from his finger, using it as lube for his cock. He mutters obscenities as you watch him orgasm, long liquid ropes splattering in the palms of his hands. He breathes heavily in the afterglow, looking up at you to grin.

“How was that, babygirl?”

You nod, your brain still thinking of his fingers, his cock, his mouth, his everything, unable to find the words you’re looking for. Joel stands up and walks to the kitchen.

You begin looking around for your clothing, not remembering where you had tossed it during all of the commotion. You hear the kitchen sink running as you pull on your underwear, reaching for your shorts next. Once you’re fully dressed again, you make your way to the record player on the other side of the living room and flip the vinyl to the next side. Trying to find excuses to stay a little longer in case he wants you to leave. Your heart sinks, hoping that’s not the case. Hoping you’re more than just material to jack off to.

To your surprise, Joel’s arms wrap around you from behind, and he leans down to kiss you.

“You don’t have anywhere to be, right?” his voice is a little wobbly. You wonder what he’s got to be nervous about. If anything, you feel like you should be the anxious one.

“I was hoping to stay for a while. If that’s okay,” you answer, turning around to face him.

“Good,” his smile is genuine, warm. “I was plannin’ on takin’ you to see the stars.”

—

When dusk rolls around, Joel leads you to his truck. He holds the door open for you as you settle into the passenger seat with plastic bags filled to the brim with snacks and drinks. You set them on the floorboard and put on your seatbelt as Joel sits down next to you in the driver’s seat. You’re looking through your phone for songs to play on your mini-road trip when you receive a call.

“Shit, it’s my dad,” you mutter, eyes darting between the “Answer” and “Decline” icons on your screen. You never told your parents where you were headed when you left this morning.

“You should tell ‘em where you are,” Joel suggests, turning the key in the ignition to start the vehicle.

“You gotta help me then,” you respond, your eyes full of fear. You aren’t sure how your parents would react if they were to find out you spent the day messing around with their longtime friend. And even though you’re an adult who is capable of making her own decisions, even if that includes developing a relationship with an older man, you're still afraid of their reactions.

“‘Course I will, babygirl,” Joel grips your thigh as you tap on the “Answer” icon.

“Hello?” you try to remain cool and collected when you pick up the phone.

“Honey, where have you been? Your mom and I have been worried sick,” your dad’s voice echoes through the speaker.

“I know, I’m sorry. I lost track of time,” you explain. Not totally a lie. You just won’t tell him what you spent your time doing.

“Where are you?” your dad asks.

You glance at Joel, your eyes pleading for help.

“Don’t worry, she’s with me,” Joel answers. “Found her a temporary job while she’s lookin’.”

“Joel, is that you?” your dad’s voice is drenched in confusion, “What did you find for her to do?”

“Figured she could organize my paperwork and my blueprints,” Joel says calmly. Your eyes light up as you remember Joel’s carpentry business. It’s a good cover.

“Yeah, he needs all the help he can get,” you add with a grin. Joel smiles back at you.

Your dad lets out a sigh of relief, “That’s mighty kind of you, Joel. Just make sure she’s not out too late.”

“Dad, I’m twenty-eight years old. I’m in good hands with… Mr. Miller,” you remark.

“I know, I know. We’ll see you when you get home,” your dad says and the call ends.

You stare at your phone, wondering how the hell you just pulled that off.

“You know, you’re gonna have to actually work for me now,” Joel teases you as he backs the truck out of the driveway, turning onto the street.

“I don’t know, seems like a lot of effort. What exactly do I get out of it?” you joke back at him.

“I’ll make it worth your while,” Joel chuckles, his hand reaching for yours as he drives toward the highway.

—

An hour later, you’re fifty miles outside of Austin. On the way to your destination, Joel tells you about this river with beachside parking that’s great for stargazing. It’s hard to focus on the conversation when his fingers are interlaced with yours. Those same fingers that were touching you just hours earlier. You snap back to reality when Joel squeezes your hand.

It’s pitch black when you pull into the parking lot at the river. The sky is littered with stars and planets and the blinking lights of airplanes flying overhead. Just begging for you to see what wonders it holds.

You climb into the bed of Joel’s truck, laying on your back. You forget about how uncomfortable it is when Joel joins you, his arm wrapping around you.

“See that one right there? That’s Jupiter,” he whispers, his scruff grazing your ear.

“How do you know?” you squint your eyes, trying to see it a little better. A bright blue glowing dot in the nighttime sky. Millions of miles away from you.

“Looked it up before we came here. Wanted to impress you,” Joel sheepishly admits.

Your heart skips a beat as the two of you continue to look up into the atmosphere.

“You know,” Joel breaks the silence, “It’s been about ten years since I last saw you. We got a lot to catch up on.”

“Well, we’ve got all the time in the world now,” you lean over and kiss his nose. It’s hard to see in the dark, but you swear his face briefly turned red.

You nod at one of the clusters of stars in the sky and ask, “Which one is that?”

“Which one? Hard to see with all of ‘em so close together.”

“That one riiiight there,” you smirk, your finger pointing at a star at the very edge of the cluster. All by its lonesome.

“Don’t know,” Joel laughs, “Maybe that could be our star.”

“I like the sound of that,” you murmur, cuddling closer to him.

—

You spend your days at Joel’s house. He actually puts you to work organizing his carpentry blueprints and filing business paperwork. But, it’s easy and you’re grateful for something to keep you busy. Spending time in Joel’s presence is an added bonus.

It’s been a few weeks since you watched each other. Glimpses of that moment keep swirling around in your mind. You try to focus on alphabetizing Joel’s client list, but all you can think about is the way his hand wrapped around his cock. Sliding up and down his length. You think about how you wish that was your hand instead. You wonder what his skin feels like, you wonder what it tastes like, you wonder what it would feel like inside of you—

“You workin’ hard or hardly workin’?” Joel’s voice disrupts your impure daydreams and you nearly jump out of your seat.

“I’m almost done,” you stammer, spinning around in your chair to face Joel. He’s standing just inside the doorframe of the home office. He’s covered in dirt and sawdust and sweat.

“Gonna take a shower. You wanna hang out when you’re done?” he looks at you expectantly.

You’ve been skipping dinner with your parents a few nights a week to “hang out” with Joel. Which entails making out on his couch, your hands traveling across each other’s clothed bodies, kisses on cheeks and necks and shoulders. Every night, you pray that it leads to something more.

“If you wanna hang out, I’ll be free,” you can feel your face burn, wondering if he has anything special in mind for the two of you tonight. Maybe it’s just wishful thinking.

“Good. Got a surprise for you.”

Or maybe it’s not.

—

“We’re here,” Joel puts the truck in park, glancing over at you with an enthusiastic expression.

“A record store?” your face is planted against the glass window of the truck as you marvel at the flashing neon “open” sign hanging on the shop door.

“Thought maybe we could pick out some new albums together,” Joel runs his fingers through his hair, “Since you like my record player so much.”

You beam at him and lean across the console of the truck to hug him. He seems surprised, but returns your embrace, his hand rubbing your back.

“Come on, let’s go!” you break away from him and push open the truck door. Joel scurries after you.

The inside of the store is filled with racks and shelves. The vinyl records are organized by genre, mostly in alphabetical order. A little anarchy seems to exist in certain sections, but what you’re focused on is rock. The bridge that connects you and Joel.

You thumb through the albums whose artists start with the letter “N,” already knowing exactly what you’re looking for. Joel joins you, amusement dancing across his face as he watches you.

“Oh my god, they have it!” you exclaim, carefully sliding a record out from the batch before you.

“What’s that?” Joel scrunches his eyes as you show him the cover.

“Only one of the most monumental albums in history! It’s from when Nirvana played acoustic versions of their songs live on MTV,” you explain quickly, your excitement growing.

“Were you even alive back then?” Joel teases, scanning a stack of records in front of him.

“Can we get it, Joel? Please?” you bat your eyelashes, fully prepared to go all doe-eyed in the case that he tells you to put it back.

“Only if we can get this,” he says, holding up a dark pink album cover with hands and arms reaching up to the text of the band’s name.

“Pearl Jam? You still listen to them?” you smile, remembering that Joel had given you a burned copy of one of their albums when you were in high school. You don’t remember ever listening to it, but now you hope you have it packed away somewhere in one of the moving boxes in your bedroom.

“‘Course I do. You think I’m old or somethin’?”

“You’re not that old,” you playfully punch his arm.

You feel the urge to say something. You’re not sure if the two of you are there yet, but you want to see how he reacts. See if this is going where you think it might be. Better to figure it out now than get your heart broken later on down the line.

“This is probably the best second date ever,” you confess hesitantly.

Joel looks surprised, but not startled. He takes your hand, leading you to the cash register.

“‘Probably?’ Anything I can do to make it the best second date ever?” he asks, a small grin appearing on his face.

“I’m sure you can think of something,” you smirk, relief washing over you.

—

Once you get back to Joel’s house, you kick off your shoes in front of the door, making your way to the living room. It’s late and you should be home by now. Your parents are probably worried. You know you should hurry home. But, you have to arrange the albums perfectly. You decide to organize Joel’s existing pile into alphabetical order after he admitted to you that he normally leaves the records lying around when he’s not listening to them.

After spending a few minutes getting everything systematized, you finally place Nirvana and Pearl Jam next to each other in the stack, standing back to admire your handiwork. Ever since you lost your job, you’ve been feeling like you don’t have control over anything. But, at least Joel lets you have this with his albums and his paperwork. A little bit of calm amidst turbulence.

“It’s gettin’ late,” Joel is standing behind you now, “You should probably head home.”

“Yeah,” you respond somewhat sullenly. Spending time with Joel has recently become the highlight of your days. You always manage to find reasons to stay. Because leaving is the hardest part.

“Unless…” Joel begins.

You turn around, your eyes darting between his face and his hands.

“Unless what?” you ask.

Joel’s hand reaches up. He tips your chin as he leans in to kiss you. The press of his lips is soft, doting, sweet. You ache for more. You always do. With him, it’s never enough.

“Can I touch you, babygirl?” he asks between bated breaths. Pulling away, he looks into your eyes. Waiting for your confirmation.

“Please,” you whimper, “Please touch me.”

Joel guides you to the couch, gesturing for you to lay down. You shimmy out of your pants and underwear, letting them pool onto the floor. As soon as you’re on your back against the cushions, Joel climbs on top of you. His kisses are ravenous as he nibbles your collar bones, leaving his mark for you to see, to admire later on when you’re alone.

“You ready?” his hand moves from playing with your breast to just below your belly. He hovers over your sex, waiting for you to give him the word.

“I’m ready.”

“If you don’t wanna do this anymore, you tell me to stop. Okay?” Joel refuses to break eye contact with you until you nod.

His middle finger easily penetrates you and slips inside your body. A gasp evades your throat and you arch your back. Joel begins to move slowly, his calloused fingertip hitting your sweet spot just right.

“How’s that feel, babygirl?” he asks, kissing your jaw.

“So fucking good,” you murmur, focusing on the pleasure being transmitted from your core to your limbs to your brain to your teeth to your toes.

“Want another one?”

He certainly doesn’t have to ask twice because you’re wildly nodding, silently begging and pleading for more.

“You let me know if it hurts,” Joel adds another finger, sliding deep inside you, pumping in and out a little bit faster now.

“So, so good,” you can already feel your orgasm building, climbing up from deep down inside your depths.

“I know, babygirl, you’re so fucking wet. Just imagine how wet and tight you’ll be when I finally fuck you,” he cooes.

“I want you so bad, Joel,” you whine, panting faster as your body exudes your satisfaction.

“Soon, babygirl, soon. Just focus right here, right here on my fingers. Cum for me.”

And you do. You cum all over the couch, liquid dripping from between your legs. Joel fucks you through it, slowing down once you’ve reached the end. He gently removes his fingers from your pussy, holding them up to his mouth. He sucks on them and you feel desire rise up inside you again. You want him so bad. You feel insatiable.

“You taste so good, babygirl,” he leans down and kisses you, letting you taste yourself on his tongue.

“Can… Can I touch you?” The words barrel past your lips.

Joel sits up, leaning back against the couch. He unzips his jeans, reaching into his boxers. He eases his cock out. It’s already hard, waiting just for you.

“Come here,” he smiles.

You suddenly sit up, leaning against him. Your hand makes contact with him. The skin is soft and smooth. Just like you had imagined it.

It’s been a long time since you’ve touched another person. So, you mimic what he had done a few weeks earlier. You start out slow, your hand gliding up and down his shaft. You glance up at him to gauge his reaction. Joel is breathing deeply, his eyes closed. Focusing all on you.

“How does it feel?” you question him, your hand moving a little faster now.

“Feels good, babygirl,” he murmurs. His head tilts toward you, his kisses along your neck are driven by desire and lust.

“Bet it would feel better if my pussy was wrapped around you,” you purr mischievously.

That gets a groan out of Joel. His sighs are getting shorter, raspier. He must be reaching the edge.

“You got a mouth on you, you know that?” he teases.

You hurry your hand’s pace, hoping to help Joel arrive at his climax. Your thumb grazes the head of his cock, you can feel arousal dribbling out.

“Doin’ such a good job for me,” Joel moans, “You’re gonna make me cum, babygirl.”

You stroke faster as he releases into your hand, covering your palm in a sticky, ropy substance. You slow down, kissing him on the cheek.

Then you climb into Joel’s lap, holding him close to you. Your chests rising and falling as one. You spend several moments like this. Just existing. Together. Joel’s fingers interlace with yours, combining each other’s fluids.

“I don’t wanna go,” you whisper.

“You don’t have to,” his lips brush against you, “Stay here with me for a little while.”

A little while turns into several hours. Time spent kissing and listening to music and dancing in the living room. You sneak back into your bedroom after 4 a.m. You’re careful not to wake your parents. You wouldn’t even know how to begin to explain the bruises on your skin, the pounding in your chest, the yearning in your heart.

You fall asleep thinking about how losing your job and moving back home originally felt like a death sentence. But, now with Joel, it feels like the beginning of a new life.

And there’s so much yet to experience.

—

#joel miller #joel miller fanfic #joel miller fic #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel x reader #joel tlou #joel x you #the last of us #pedro pascal characters #joel the last of us #tlou

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joelmillersdumbslut · 9 months

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screaming crying throwing up how could you do this to me i love you i’m gonna cry if it all ends badly i’ll patiently wait as long as you need for the next chapter(s) of this story like please ):

thank you for taking the time to read my story!! i was actually thinking of discontinuing it after i received some negative messages about it, but your kind words make me want to keep writing 🥺 i promise these two will be happy at the end, but there will be more ups and downs before we get there. thank you again for your support ❤️

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joelmillersdumbslut · 9 months

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♥ fic masterlist ♥

warning: please note that all fics are explicit. please read the warning tags carefully. thank you for your support! ♥

series:

I took your matches before fire could catch me part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4

I think it's time you had a pink cloud summer part 1

---

oneshots/drabble:

Only bought this dress so you could take it off

#joel miller #joel miller fanfic #joel miller fic #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel tlou #joel x reader #joel x you #the last of us #tlou #pedro pascal characters

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joelmillersdumbslut · 9 months

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I took your matches before fire could catch me (part four)

(joel miller x f!reader) 18+

masterlist

summary: After Joel Miller ghosts you for three weeks, you drive to his house to find answers. (no outbreak. no use of y/n)

rating: 18+ explicit (minors do NOT interact)

warnings (for this chapter): age gap (reader is in late 20's, joel is mid 50's), dirty talk, pet names, fingering, unprotected p in v sex, daddy kink, alcohol consumption, so much angst

word count: 3k

a/n: thank you again for all the love on my first series. i'm really nervous with how this chapter turned out, but i hope you still enjoy it ♡

ao3 link

Joel hasn’t answered any of your texts for three weeks.

You sit on the couch in your living room, wearing the last shirt he had given you. Inhaling the faint smell as best as you can. Anything to remember him. You’ve been spending your nights and days staring off into space. Wondering if maybe you were wrong. But, how can your emotions be wrong? How can your feelings be wrong?

Tonight, your eyes wander, finally settling on the bottle of wine he had gifted you. It’s unopened. Gradually collecting dust on the counter. You remember the way he smiled when you removed it from the crumpled paper bag.

Your chest feels heavy.

You grab your keys and head out the door.

—

You park across the street like you always do. You march up the porch steps with purpose, but pause once you raise your hand to knock on the door. You hear voices inside. Your heart sinks immediately. What if he’s moved on without you?

Fuck Joel.

You need answers.

Your fist bangs on the door. You keep whacking the surface with all your might, wondering if your knuckles will soon be pierced with splinters when suddenly the door is whipped open.

He’s standing there with a beer in hand. He seems annoyed at first, but his negative emotions are alleviated once he realizes it’s you.

“Babygirl,” Joel breathes softly, “What are you doin’ here?”

“What do you think I’m doing here?” you hiss. Crossing your arms and staring him down.

“Look, I can’t talk right now—“

“Joel, I need to talk to you. I have to talk to you. You just can’t leave me like that with no explanation,” your voice becomes shrill with emotion.

He looks exasperated, defeated. A voice emerges from behind him, “Joel, what’s goin’ on?”

A hand clapping on Joel’s back. For the first time since you’ve known him, you see fear in his eyes. Something you didn’t think was possible for Joel to experience. The figure pushes past Joel to acknowledge you.

“Hey the…. What the fuck are you doin’ here?”

Tommy’s lip curls into a snarl. His nostrils flare and you swear to God this man is seeing red. You want to rub your eyes, pinch your skin. You need to wake up from this fucking nightmare.

“Joel, is this some kinda sick joke? What’s she doin’ here?”

“What are you doing here?” you counter, your hands ball into fists and begin to shake at your sides.

“This is my fuckin’ brother’s house, I can be here as often as I’d like,” Tommy seethes, “Did you come back to ruin my life again?”

He pauses, turning to look at Joel, finally connecting the puzzle pieces together, “Or did you come here to ruin his?”

Tears are rolling down your cheeks as you glance over at Joel. He’s staring into his beer bottle. You want to shake him, scream in his face. But, you can’t. You’re frozen in place.

“Joel, you gonna take care of this trash or should I?” Tommy growls, his eyes fixated on you.

“If you touch her, I will rip you apart,” Joel doesn’t even look up from his beer bottle, “What y’all did happened long ago. You gotta get over it, Tommy.”

Tommy’s eyes are bulging out of his head, “You're jokin’, right, Joel? You’re not seriously bangin’ this—”

Joel is now standing in front of you, “You call her any names, I will end you. I mean it, Tommy.”

Joel’s younger brother pushes past you, nearly knocking you off your feet, but Joel is quick to steady you. Tommy silently fumes as he walks off the porch, heading to his vehicle parked in the driveway.

“Fuck you,” Tommy hollers as he opens the truck door, “Fuck both of you.”

Then, he peels out of Joel’s house, speeding down the street.

Joel takes a long sip of his beer. Your feet are glued to the porch. Not sure whether you should go inside or if you should leave. You look at Joel, hoping he can give you an answer.

“You happy now?” Joel huffs.

That certainly wasn’t the answer you were expecting.

You stare at him in disbelief, wiping the tears from your cheeks. “Why the fuck would I be happy about this?”

“You seem to like fuckin’ everything up,” he retorts, tossing the bottle onto the porch. It rolls away from his feet. Hitting the steps and cracking into pieces.

“What did I fuck up exactly? Please. Enlighten me,” you can feel rage burning in your chest. Your throat is tight and it’s getting harder to breathe.

“What we had goin’. It was a good deal. Then you went and said what you said,” he waves his hand in the air. Like your confession, your feelings, your vulnerability mean nothing to him. “Then you come over here and piss off my brother. Probably never gonna talk to me again.”

“Then you should’ve never fucked around with me in the first place!” your voice is sharp and resentful. “You knew what you were getting into, Joel, don’t blame this on me. Don’t you dare. These are the consequences of your actions.”

“How is it the consequences of my actions?” he snaps.

“You were the one who was nice to me! You were the one who came running when I needed you, you were my shoulder to cry on. We even shared our lives with each other. You shouldn’t have done any of those things if you didn’t want me to love you,” you choke out the last words, your vision blurry from the tears welling up inside the corners of your eyes.

The two of you glare at each other. You step closer to Joel, feeling the heat radiating off his body. Even though you're so angry at him, you can’t help but stare at his muscles protruding through the fabric of his shirt. You think about the way you want those arms around you, holding you, protecting you. You think about how you want things to go back to the way they were just a few short weeks ago.

But, Joel’s right.

You went and fucked it all up.

Joel leans down and kisses you. Hard. You’re taken aback, but you kiss him back just as hard, your tongue entering his mouth and crashing into his. Joel’s hands are moving up and down your body, his touch is rough and careless. He pulls away from your embrace, taking you by the hand and leading you into the house.

—

“Is Sarah home?” you whisper as Joel’s hand clutches your wrist, guiding you through the dimly lit house.

“Do you ever shut up?” he quips.

Even though you stumble around in the darkness, you still remember how to get to his room. You practically know the layout of the house by heart now with how often you come over. After you stagger into the bedroom, Joel locks the door behind him. He’s gazing at you like a beast freed from its cage.

“Tell me what you want,” his voice is quiet, he closes the distance between the two of you.

“I want you to touch me,” you whisper. “I want you so much.”

He says nothing at first as he reaches out and cups one of your breasts, your hardening nipple rolling between his thumb and index finger. You stifle a moan, unbuttoning your jeans and kicking them off. Joel pushes you onto the bed, towering over you.

“You don’t love me,” he murmurs, nipping at your neck and collarbones. Purple splotches already forming underneath the surface of your skin.

“I do love you,” you whimper beneath him, “I don’t know why you’re too stubborn to see it.”

Joel yanks your underwear to the side, his thumb rubbing your clit in fast circles. But, then he pauses once he notices how wet you are already. His index finger slides up and down your slit, collecting slick on his fingertip before he dives into your entrance.

“What are you interested in an old man for anyway? Should be with a guy your age,” he gruffs, his finger thrusting in and out of you. Your body tenses up at the bliss emanating from your core.

“I don’t wanna be with a guy my age. I told you that on our first date,” your breath hitches, “I’ve always liked older men.”

“Lucky me.”

Joel adds another finger, his digits sinking into you, massaging that sweet spot deep inside your body. His rhythm is unstable and messy, but you can still feel your orgasm bubbling up to the surface. You missed this so much.

“Fuck, I’m—” you gasp, arching your back as the tension expands even faster throughout your body. You’re so close, your legs begin to shake, your head is dizzy.

“Call me by my name,” Joel growls.

“Fuck you,” you pant, “I’m not calling you that anymore. Not if you don’t even like me.”

His fingers pull out of your pussy, leaving a sticky residue all over his hand. You throb and pulse, aching for more.

“Never said I didn’t like you,” Joel sits up. His expression is indignant as he stares at you.

You feel lightheaded, so many things running through your mind. So many things you want to say.

If you like me, why don’t you say it then?

Why do you act like you care about me one minute, then you act like you couldn’t give a fuck about me the next?

Why do you insist on punishing me?

Instead, the two of you remain silent for a long time. Until he speaks.

“Tell me one thing,” he mutters, “What did you think you were gonna get out of this?”

You sit with your knees pulled up to your chest. Even though it’s been a couple months since you met Joel, you never really put much thought into this. Your original intention of joining Lily was to find someone to start a relationship with. Instead, you have… this. A situationship where you’re all in, but he’s constantly hot and cold, non-committal, and giving off mixed signals.

What did you think you were gonna get out of this?

“I don’t know,” you whisper, “I didn’t mean to fall in love with you. I thought we would just keep fucking, doing our thing. But, then you were being nice to me. Like you cared about me. And I thought…”

“You thought what?” he seems… a little calmer now. Like he’s actually considering what you have to say this time.

“I thought I actually had a chance with you,” your bottom lip quivers. You’re on the verge of crying again. You turn away from him, the back of your hand rubbing the corner of your eye.

Joel sighs deeply. “Come here, babygirl,” he holds his arms out for you, “Hate seein’ you like this.”

“You sure didn’t give a fuck about me earlier,” you seethe. You’re not gonna fall for his fake niceties. Not again.

“How do you know?” Joel raises his voice, “Do you know how bad I wanted to punch Tommy for what he said ‘bout you? Because you don’t deserve that. And you sure as hell don’t deserve someone like me.”

You blink.

What does he mean by that?

“I want you, Joel. You’re all I want,” you hiccup, trying to hold in the tears. “I don’t care about what anyone has to say, especially your brother.”

He reaches out, taking your hand. “It’s gettin’ late. Why don’t you stay here?”

You say nothing. You get out of bed, picking up your shirt from the floor and pulling it on over your head. Your eyes are red and puffy. You cross your arms and sniffle, staring down at the floor.

“What are you so afraid of, Joel?”

“We ain’t talkin’ ‘bout this,” he growls.

“Why not?” you exclaim.

“I’m afraid it’ll end up like the last time. That you’ll leave me and I’ll be alone. I’m afraid this’ll all be for nothin’. There, you happy?” Joel’s nostrils flare.

You shake your head in confusion, sitting down on the bed next to him. Your hand caresses his cheek, your thumb slowly brushing through his scruff.

“Are you talking about Sarah’s mom?” you whisper.

“You need to go to bed,” Joel huffs, standing up from the bed and gesturing to your side. The side you always sleep on when you stay over. The side with extra pillows because Joel knows you can’t fall asleep unless you have a mountain of them.

He knows so much about you. Sometimes, he even seems to genuinely care about you. But, he’ll never admit it. Especially not to your face. And you’re beginning to realize that.

“I’ll go to bed,” you nod in defeat. You clamber to your spot on the mattress, pulling the covers up over your body.

Joel stands at the foot of the bed, readying to leave you. “Gonna go have another beer,” he murmurs.

But, you have to say something first.

“Wait,” you whimper.

He turns around, those brown eyes piercing your soul. The very same ones you fell in love with through his pictures on the dating app.

“I don’t know what happened. But, I’m not like her. That’s all I wanna say.”

He’s quiet for a moment, looking down at the floor. Then he walks to the bed and sits down next to you.

“I know, babygirl,” he brushes a strand of your hair behind your ear. “That’s why I’m afraid.”

He kisses your forehead, shuts off the light, and heads downstairs.

—

You see yourself standing inside what appears to be a castle. You lift your hand, grazing your fingertips against the jagged limestone wall in front of you. You hear a voice calling your name. You turn to see Joel on the opposite end of the hallway. He’s beckoning you, gesturing for you to follow him. You begin to run, but the floor crumbles underneath you. You fall and fall and fall forever. The last thing you see before you disappear into the darkness is Joel smiling wickedly.

—

You wake up in a cold sweat. The clock on Joel’s bedside table reads 3:47 a.m. He’s sleeping rather soundly next to you, his arm covering your torso.

Your heart is still beating out of your chest, it feels like you’re still falling from the dream world. You stare up at the ceiling. Waiting to fall back asleep. But, you can’t.

The clock now reads 5:05 a.m.

You know one thing that will help you sleep.

You just don’t know if Joel will give it to you.

“Joel,” you whisper, moving so your forehead is touching his. “Joel, are you awake?”

He groans, his eyes not quite open yet, “What’s goin’ on?”

“I had a bad dream. I can’t sleep,” you whine.

“You need daddy’s help, don’t you?” Even with the streetlight shining faintly through the window of the dark bedroom, you swear you can see him grinning.

It’s been three weeks. You’re so hungry for him and he knows it. You decide to shove your dignity aside and give in.

“Yes, daddy,” you whimper, already squirming.

So much for trying to prove a point.

“Come here,” he holds out his arms and you inch even closer, accepting his embrace. The two of you lay there for several moments, just holding each other, breathing in sync.

Then Joel kisses your lips, his hand trailing down your body to your underwear. His fingers slip into the fabric, he sleepily fumbles for a moment before finding your clit. You let out a deep breath as he begins to rub your bundle of nerves, already sensitive, already begging for more. His movement is slow and meticulous. Then his hand moves lower, accumulating the arousal gathering between your thighs. Those long, thick fingers enter you, curling up inside you just right. You moan Joel’s name into his neck, holding him close to you.

“Gonna wake up the whole neighborhood,” he teases you in a low voice, bringing you closer and closer to the edge.

“Just like that,” you hum, your hips grinding down harder on his fingers.

“Never seen you this horny,” he muses, pumping in and out of you faster, “Maybe we should have fights more often.”

You’re about to glare at him when your orgasm is suddenly front and center, pleasure spreading from your belly to your limbs, from your toes to your teeth.

“Joel, I’m gonna–”

“Cum for me, babygirl.”

You pant wildly and Joel continues to fuck you as you cum all over his fingers. You can feel the wetness flowing from your pussy, dripping into his palm. He slows down, planting kisses on your cheek.

“Such a good girl for me. Think you need another one,” Joel chuckles, throwing the blankets to the side of the bed. “Come here.”

He rips off his boxers and pulls you on top of him. The head of his cock is already shining, precum leaking out. All because of you.

Joel helps you get situated, his hands on your waist as you slide down his length. You let out a moan once he’s fully seated inside you.

“You missed daddy’s cock, didn’t you?” he groans, his hands drift down to your hips and he begins to rock you gently.

“Three weeks without you is too long,” you agree, obscene noises escaping your lips.

Joel groans, his fingertips digging further into your skin. You begin to tremble once you feel another orgasm building inside you, climbing up from the depths of your core. You close your eyes and Joel rubs your clit with his thumb, riding the high with you before it comes crashing down. Joel pulls out of you, stroking himself quickly as hot, sticky ropes of liquid hit your stomach. Both of you are breathing strenuously, you lean forward to lay on Joel’s chest.

“I do care ‘bout you,” he whispers as you drift off to sleep.

Everything feels right with Joel again.

You never want it to end.

But, it does.

—

#joel miller #joel miller fanfic #joel miller fic #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel tlou #joel x reader #joel x you #the last of us #pedro pascal characters

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joelmillersdumbslut · 9 months

Text

just an update that i’m working on the next couple parts of “i took your matches before fire could catch me.” hopefully, part 4 will be up soon 💜

it’s getting kind of dark and i’m worried no one will like it 💀

i’m hoping some folks will enjoy it lol. i’m sure having a fun time writing it ☺️

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joelmillersdumbslut · 9 months

Note

the new chapter was so good! the ending stung omg, cant wait to see what’s next for them, hopefully joel explains why he ran away

thank you so much for reading!! 🥺 the ending stung for me too (even though i was the one who wrote it Lol), but i’m working on the next chapter as we speak! we’ll get some answers from joel soon ❤️

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joelmillersdumbslut · 9 months

Text

I took your matches before fire could catch me (part three) (joel miller x f!reader) 18+

summary: After making a "friends with benefits" deal with Joel Miller, you find yourself getting closer to him. Maybe too close. (no outbreak. no use of y/n)

rating: 18+ explicit (minors do NOT interact)

warnings (for this chapter): age gap (reader is in late 20's, joel is mid 50's), dirty talk, pet names, masturbation, sexting, fingering, unprotected p in v sex, oral sex (f! and m! receiving), daddy kink, hand kink, creampie, mentions of alcohol (no consumption), sarah makes a guest appearance, some fluff

word count: 3.6k

a/n: thank you so much for all the love on my first fic series, it truly means the world to me. i hope you enjoy this chapter as much as i do! ♡

a03 link

You delete Lily as soon as you get home that morning. You figure you don’t have much of a use for it anymore. Plus, Joel was the only guy you had swiped on anyway.

The app asks if you found love as a reason for deleting your account. You decline to answer.

Joel had given you his number and you end up sexting each other for the next week. Your hands and vibrator work overtime as you fantasize over the texts he sends you.

Gonna bend you over the kitchen counter.

Gonna slide my cock into that tight pussy.

You like it when daddy fills you up, don’t you?

The anticipation of your next meetup is killing you. You wait for Joel to make the next move. And he does on Saturday morning.

Sarah’s at a friend’s house.

Well, it was more of a statement than an invitation. But, you ran with it anyway. You talk your way out of a speeding ticket on the way there. Surprisingly, the excuse that your grandmother is in the hospital works better than “My fuck buddy is waiting on me.” You park across the street again, Joel had said he didn’t want the neighbors to notice an unusual car stationed in front of the house. You think it’s overkill, but you obey like the good girl you are.

Today, you don’t have to knock to announce your arrival. Joel is already waiting on the porch, guitar in hand. He’s strumming chords to a song you don’t know. As you approach the steps, you watch his long fingers move between strings, slide between frets. You hate to admit it, but it’s turning you on already.

“What are you doing?” you greet him, leaning against the railing.

“What’s it look like?” he gruffs back at you.

“Are you planning to serenade me? I think that’s the sexiest kind of foreplay.”

“Did you come over just to be a smart-ass?”

“I was hoping maybe you’d fuck it out of me.”

He’s trying not to smile.

—

“We should be able to communicate with each other, right?” you ask Joel, flinging your bra across the room.

He makes a face as your dress and underwear are soon scattered around his already disorganized bedroom floor, but his annoyance disappears once he sees you naked.

“Sure,” he grunts, pulling off his own boxers, motioning for you to get on the bed.

You plop down on the mattress, the box spring squeaking against your movement.

“Good. Because I need to ask you something,” you say, sheepishly fiddling with a strand of your hair.

Joel raises his eyebrows. You take that as encouragement to continue.

“Can you like… Make me cum more than once?” you try to draw out your request as humorous and lighthearted, but your inflection is desperate. Horny. Unsatisfied.

Joel frowns, crawling onto the bed. He says nothing at first as he lays between your legs. His finger traces circles on the inside of your thigh.

“I just—I need more of you. One isn’t enough,” you mumble. Your stomach churns, wondering if maybe you shouldn’t have said anything at all.

“You gotta be a good girl.”

You’re not happy with his answer.

“I am a good girl. We talked about this, Joel. I’m tired of this ‘good girl’ shit.”

Silence.

Just as you are about to tell him to forget it, that you take it all back and you’ll accept whatever number of orgasms he gives you, even if it’s nothing at all, he begins to eat your pussy. You notice again that it’s different from your first encounter at the bar. He starts out slow, his tongue rolling across your clit. He creates delicate stripes up and down your slit, but not before nudging his tongue inside your entrance. You can feel an inferno burning inside your stomach already and you restrain yourself from moaning, but Joel peers up from between your legs. His gaze is soft. And sweet. You can’t stop staring into his eyes.

“Wanna hear you,” he murmurs, his tongue rippling against your body even faster.

You let yourself go, shaking and flailing against his touch. You expect to switch positions, for Joel to be the one being pleased now, but he keeps going down on you. A rather unexpected welcome to your current dynamic. You close your eyes, focusing on the pleasure radiating throughout your body.

After your fourth orgasm, you fall asleep in Joel’s bed. You’re too sleepy to notice that he wrapped you up in a blanket and brushed the hair out of your face.

—

You’re disoriented when you wake up. Your eyes grow accustomed again to Joel’s bedroom, mid-afternoon light pouring in through the window. There’s noises downstairs and you wonder if he’s cooking for you again. The desire to keep sleeping fills you, but then you remember.

Joel didn’t cum at all.

You leap out of bed, gathering up your clothes and putting them on as you head downstairs. Once you get to the kitchen, you spot Joel setting pizza boxes down on the kitchen island. No one else is around. His daughter must not be home yet.

“I’m sorry,” you exclaim, hurriedly approaching him. You begin to undo his belt buckle. To your surprise, he’s already hard.

“Sorry for what?” he asks, amusement radiating across his face. He wants you to say it. He wants you to acknowledge what he did.

“You made me cum four times and you didn’t get to cum at all,” you whisper, turning around to bend yourself over the counter. “Come on, it’s your turn.”

Joel chuckles as he lifts up the hem of your sundress, pulling your panties to the side.

“You really are a good girl,” he purrs. The tip of his cock teases your entrance. “Already wet for me and you just woke up?”

You breathe deeply as he slides in. It hurts a little, but you quickly get used to the feeling of him stretching you. He starts pumping slowly and you rub your clit with one hand while keeping yourself upright against the counter with the other. Your body quivers as you feel the pressure building within your lower abdomen. You’re insatiable and Joel’s dick has you begging for more.

“Babygirl, why are you so tight?” he murmurs, thrusting faster now. “You gonna cum again? Four times ain’t enough?”

“If you keep hitting that spot right there, you’re gonna make it five times,” you whine, trying to maintain your balance against the kitchen counter.

“What, this spot right here?” you can hear Joel smile as he repositions himself, hitting that spongy area deep inside you. Your fingers move faster against your clit.

“Fuck, Joel, I’m gonna—”

“What’s my name, babygirl?” he grunts back at you, “Call me by my name.”

Your heart skips a beat when you realize what he’s asking for. Your pussy throbs with each thrust and you find yourself whimpering, “I’m cumming, daddy.”

Joel fucks you through your orgasm, his hand rubbing your shoulder blade as you shake and shiver from his touch.

“I’m close,” he whispers, his cock drilling into you, “Where you want it?”

“My back,” you sputter between breaths as he hoists your dress higher, exposing your lower back to him. You instantly feel the liquid hit your skin, hot and viscous. The two of you breathe laboriously, and you hear Joel buckle his pants again.

“Babygirl, I—” he begins, but the two of you freeze as the sound of the front door opening rings through your ears.

“Shit,” he exclaims, yanking your dress back down to cover your ass. “Fuck, it got on your dress again.”

“Again? Joel, you’re gonna owe me a brand-new wardrobe after this,” you hiss, looking around fearfully for a place to hide. You start to wonder if there’s enough room for you behind the refrigerator when the sound of footsteps becomes louder.

“Take this,” Joel says, ripping off his button-down shirt and tossing it to you. You finish slipping it on over your newly stained dress and Joel smooths out the wrinkles of his t-shirt right as his daughter strolls into the kitchen.

“Dad, you’ll never guess who’s comin’ to Austin on tour!” Sarah pauses, registering your presence next to his. She glances between the two of you, then expectantly looks at her father for an explanation.

“Sarah, this is…” he looks to you, his eyes screaming for help.

“I’m his friend!” you push Joel out of the way, holding out your hand to shake Sarah’s. “I’ve heard so much about you, so nice to meet you. Who’s gonna be in Austin?”

Sarah notices your determined ambition to change the subject and she accepts it, still eyeing you a little suspiciously. “Taylor Swift,” she answers.

“No way! I’m a Swiftie too. Her ‘Reputation’ album is—” you hold your fingers up to your lips and kiss them. “Chef’s kiss. Just amazing.”

You glance at Joel, who’s now pulling plates out of the cabinet. You wonder how he could possibly be acting so calm at a time like this, when your cover has practically been blown, when rule number one has been torn to shreds.

A slow grin appears on Sarah’s face, “Hey, Dad, maybe you can take us?”

“Yeah, you and your friends will have a great time, Taylor puts on a great show,” you ramble, making small steps toward the hallway. You need to escape. Like now.

“No, I mean, the three of us,” Sarah smirks. “She can come with us, right, Dad?”

“Oh, I don’t want to impose–” you start, but Joel cuts you off.

“‘Course she can. I’ll look at tickets tomorrow.”

“Cool,” Sarah beams, turning back to you. “You’re stayin’ for dinner, right? Dad, can she stay?”

Joel’s composure doesn’t crack a bit. “You’re stayin’, right?”

You smile nervously, eyes darting back and forth between the father and daughter. “Sure, I love pizza.”

Joel places his hand on the small of your back and you squirm as the drying cum sticks to your skin. He lets out a low laugh, clearly knowing what he’s doing to you.

“I thought we were ‘friends,’” you mumble.

“Sarah ain’t stupid. Just play along, will ya?” he whispers back.

You nod slowly, picking up a plate off the counter and plopping a slice of pizza onto it. All you can think about is how you want to run to your car and never come back. How Sarah doesn’t recognize you is beyond you. You think it must be impossible that Sarah didn’t hear about the girl Uncle Tommy slept with. Your anxiety is conjuring up images of Tommy describing you in detail to the whole family, demanding they stay away from a harlot such as yourself.

But, by some miracle, Sarah doesn’t say a single word to you about that. Instead, she interrogates you about Joel.

“So, how’d you two meet?”

You stare at Joel. His mouth is conveniently full, so he gestures for you to answer.

“Um. A dating app,” you respond, picking pepperoni off the slice on your plate. You gingerly take a bite and chew thoroughly before swallowing. You wonder if you could fake an illness or injury, find a way to get out the door faster.

Sarah smiles insidiously, “So, you’re not just friends then… What did y’all do on your first date?”

“We, uh. We met at the bar,” you squawk, feeling feverish as you recall the events that transpired in that dirty bar bathroom.

“Played pool. Sang some karaoke. Didn’t we, sweetheart?” Joel’s lie is masked by a dark smile. He squeezes your arm, his gigantic fingers wrapping around your wrist. All you can think about is his touch, and you wonder if you’re going to pass out on the kitchen floor.

“You got my dad to sing karaoke?” Sarah narrows her eyes as if she’s caught you again in your elaborate lie, “What song was it?”

“Pearl Jam,” Joel answers for you. “She really likes ‘em.”

“Yeah,” you stutter, totally not knowing what the hell a Pearl Jam is, “Great songs for karaoke. Especially… Ah, you know, that one Joel really likes. He, uh, even played it for me on his guitar.”

You feel sweat clinging to your hairline. You’re not a good liar. You can feel the lightning in the clouds preparing to strike you down right here in Joel’s kitchen.

“Dad played you a song on his guitar?” she scoffs, nibbling on the crust of her pizza. “He doesn’t even do that for me. He must really like you.” She punctuates her sentence with an eyebrow waggle.

Your face burns red and you stare down at your plate. Remembering those words Joel had said to you only a week ago.

I don’t like you.

You’re about to excuse yourself, ready to grab your purse and run out the door, when Joel places his arm around your waist.

“Sure do,” he murmurs.

—

After dinner, Joel offers to walk you to your car. You wrap yourself in his shirt even tighter as you stand outside the door of your vehicle, Joel’s hands in his pockets.

“Do you actually like me?” you blurt out, then cover your mouth with your hand. Why the fuck did you say that?

Joel pulls your hand away. He holds it in his, staring at your fingers before he looks at you and speaks.

“Look. I realized I was wrong. What happened with you and my brother…” he shrugs. “Not entirely your fault. You were a kid. Guess you still kinda are.”

Relief washes over you. But, you realize he still hasn’t answered your question yet. And you realize you may never know. And for some reason, that fills you with dread. You wobble back and forth on the balls of your feet, your hand reaching for your car’s door handle.

“You know,” Joel says suddenly, “Sarah’s watchin’ us from the window.”

“She is?” you ask, trying to peer past him.

“Gotta make this look real,” he chuckles.

Then he’s leaning in to kiss you. You can’t help but hold onto him for dear life as his lips crash into yours. A moan bubbles up from within your chest, Joel wrapping you up in his arms. The space between you diminishing by the second. Your fingers dig into the fabric of his t-shirt as he pulls away and you quietly pray for more. Then he kisses your forehead in finality.

“You’re cute, babygirl.”

The line between truth and fiction is quickly becoming a blur for you.

—

It’s not until you’re blowing Joel in your living room that you realize you’re developing feelings for him.

It crops up suddenly when you’re on your knees, with him sitting on the couch. His eyes are closed while you take him in your mouth, your head bobbing up and down along his length. He’s absentmindedly playing with your hair as your tongue flicks against his skin. You’re content in this moment. You think about how you’re going to order takeout after you’re done fucking, probably Chinese food again. You think about how you’re going to curl up in bed together before round two, talk about your respective days at work, how Sarah’s doing in school. You think about how you’re secretly hoping that he kisses you on your lips. A real kiss, like he gave you when you were lying together in his bed. Or like the one he gave you when Sarah was watching you in the driveway. And maybe he’ll kiss you for real again. And again. And again.

Actually. Maybe you had these feelings all along.

And when Joel cums in your mouth as he groans, “Babygirl,” you realize you’ve broken his no attachments rule.

What are you gonna do about it?

—

I need you.

Erase. You sound pathetic and pitiful. It worked one time, but would it work again? You sound and feel desperate. But, you are.

Can you come over? Bad day at work.

The truth. You missed some deadlines, got yelled at by your boss, spilled coffee all over your paperwork. But, does Joel need to know you want him to come running to you every time something goes wrong? Isn’t that a little too domestic for your situationship?

You groan and fling your phone onto your bed. You hold your head in your hands. You wish it could be simpler. You wish the past could stay in the past, but you know it’s going to come back to rear its ugly head.

And it’s all your fault.

Your phone vibrates and you retrieve it from the mountain of pillows on your bed. It’s Joel.

Hey, babygirl.

Haven’t heard from you.

You okay?

It’s only been a day since you last texted him. And he’s worried? Maybe you’re projecting. He probably just wants to fuck.

No.

You don’t know what else to say. You wonder if he’ll leave you be to wallow. You wonder if he’s sitting there, contemplating a response. You wonder if you’re even worthy of receiving one. But, he texts back immediately.

On my way.

How can you not be in love with Joel?

—

Joel arrives with a paper bag in his hands. He sets it down on the counter. It’s late at night and you’re already wearing your pajamas. He doesn’t seem to mind, especially since he can tell you’re not wearing a bra.

The two of you stand in the kitchen, looking around aimlessly.

Finally, you break the awkward silence.

“What’d ya bring me?” you ask, taking a peek inside the bag.

“Just a little somethin’,” Joel responds, and you swear you could see his smile underneath the glow of the kitchen light.

You pull out a blue bottle, marveling at the label. It’s your favorite wine. He remembered. How did he remember? Why did he remember?

“You didn’t have to do that,” you blush, and he takes your hand in his.

“Come on, babygirl. Let daddy make you feel better.”

—

Joel is looming over you. He just peeled off your shirt and he’s now playing with the drawstring of your shorts. Taking his sweet time. Making you ravenous and wet beneath him. He leaves kisses on your collarbones, his saliva sticking to your skin. In your apartment, you can be as loud and unabashed as you want. And you are.

“Whaddya say we get these off you?” Joel smirks, helping you shimmy out of your pajama shorts. He toys with the waistband of your underwear, you squirm underneath him. You want him. So badly.

“What’s wrong, babygirl?” He lowers himself down to the bed, kissing your thighs.

“Nothing’s wrong,” you sigh, maybe a little too contentedly, “I just… I just want you.”

“Where do you want me?” he asks, his lips brushing up against your clothed pussy.

You inhale. Sharply. “Right. There,” you whine.

“How many times you think I can make you cum tonight?” his words reverberate against you, his fingers rubbing you from the outside of the fabric.

Your breath hitches, it takes everything in you not to tear off your underwear yourself. But, you've learned with Joel that you have to be patient. That you have to be a good girl. And you will be rewarded.

“At least three,” you mumble.

“Then, we’ll make it three,” he agrees.

—

Joel pushes into you with ease. He breathes deeply, cracking a grin.

“Don’t think I could ever get tired of this pussy,” he pumps in and out of you. Slowly at first. But, your moans inspire him to speed up.

Your arms drape around his frame, you dig your fingernails into his back, sure to leave marks in the morning. He doesn’t care. He’ll wear them with pride.

You move one of your hands down to your clit, massaging the bundle of nerves as fast as you can. The stimulation is almost overpowering. Your eyes are closed, your body clenching down on his.

“This number three, sweetheart?” Joel’s lips graze your earlobe. You can tell he’s getting close too, his voice shaky, his movements sloppy. “Let it all out, cum all over me.”

And you do as you’re told, your cum soaking his cock even more.

“Where you want me, babygirl?” He pounds into you harder, faster.

“Inside,” you whimper underneath him.

And he cums without hesitation. His cock pulses and twitches inside you. His seed overflowing between your legs.

You lay there. Joel on top of you. He stares into your eyes, his hand caressing your cheek.

You have to do it.

You have to say what’s been on your mind for the past week.

“Joel, I love you.”

The words hang in the air. Swaying back and forth between you two like a pendulum. The world stops turning, if just for a moment. You wait for him to say something. Anything. Your bottom lip quivers. His eye twitches. He opens his mouth.

And just as quickly as it had stopped, the world is back to spinning. And it’s spinning so fucking fast. Everything’s out of control. Joel sits up. He’s out of bed. He’s snatching up his clothes from the floor. He’s bolting out of your room. The apartment door slams.

You’re all alone.

—

#joel miller #joel miller fanfic #joel miller fic #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel tlou #joel x reader #joel x you #the last of us #pedro pascal characters

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joelmillersdumbslut · 9 months

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Only bought this dress so you could take it off (joel miller x f!reader) 18+

summary: You spend your workdays pining over your favorite customer, Joel Miller, until he finally asks you out on a date. (no outbreak au. no use of y/n)

rating: 18+ explicit (minors do NOT interact)

warnings: age gap (reader is in early 20's, joel is early 40's), dirty talk, hand kink, pet names, reader is inexperienced, oral sex (f! and m! receiving), fingering, handjob, p in v sex, a little fluff at the end, basically smut with the tiniest bit of plot

word count: 3.3k

a/n: i just really wanted to write a smutty oneshot! hope you enjoy it ♡

ao3 link

Normally, when customers hit on you, you’re quick to shut them down.

“No, thanks, I have a boyfriend.”

“Sorry, I have night classes.”

“My parents won’t let me date until I’m 35.”

Or straight up, “No.”

But, when Joel Miller first walked into the coffee shop you work at, you couldn’t take your eyes off him. You had just finished steaming milk for a latte when your coworker rang him up at the register. You fumbled with the steel pitcher as Joel shot a glance your way, his brown eyes burrowing into you. The frothy milk burned the back of your hand, but it didn’t even compare to the burning you felt deep inside your abdomen.

For the next few weeks, Joel would chat you up at the pickup counter while you poured his coffee. He takes it black. No milk, no sugar, no bullshit. He’d ask you questions about the beans. Where they’re grown, how do you get them, what setting you grind them at for the best taste. All you could think about was the way his lips curled into a small smile after the first sip. Or how his fingers brushed against yours as you handed him his coffee. It felt wrong, sometimes immoral, to be so smitten with a man old enough to be your father. You couldn’t help but get doe-eyed every time he walked in through the door. Even your coworkers started teasing you, telling you Joel came in on your day off and asked for you. You’d brush it off and pretend it didn’t happen, but you secretly hoped that it did. You were dying to get to know him better, or at least find out more than just how he takes his coffee.

So, when he came in on a dreary Monday, looking a little pale and feverish, you asked him what was going on. He exhaled sharply through his nose as you let the coffee cascade from the brewer into the paper cup. But, his words were floundering in the sea of coffee shop noises and you couldn’t hear him well. You beckoned him to lean across the counter, cupping your ear. When his mouth grazed against your lobe, your belly ignited once again when you heard the words, “What I’m tryin’ to say is… would you wanna go out on a date with me?”

—

You’d never put out on the first date before. At least not until now. Joel Miller took you to see a movie, but you can’t remember what it was about. Probably because he had a firm grip on your thigh the entire time. His fingers slowly dragging their way up your leg as the movie played on the big screen. It’s a good thing you picked seats in the very back row where no one could see you leaning over to kiss him. It took him by surprise, but he welcomed it nonetheless. You placed your hand on his cheek, turning him towards you as you gently brushed your lips against his. He returned the favor, and soon enough his tongue was poking through your lips to meet your own. Just as you were about to reach for his belt buckle, the overhead lights came on and you both jolted back. You smoothing out your dress, Joel hiding the front of his jeans with a popcorn bucket. He held your hand all the way to the car, and even opened the door for you.

—

It was hard to resist a gentleman like Joel Miller. He walked you to your apartment door, lingering in the hallway while you pulled a set of keys out of your purse. He was about to bid you a good night, when something possessed you to mention, “You know, my roommate’s working the night shift. If you wanna come in.”

A slow smile creeped up on his face, “Whaddya have in mind?”

You could feel your cheeks burn, your eyes dropping to the floor. “I’m not that kind of girl,” your whisper almost inaudible, “I mean. Maybe I am. But, just for you. Because… I like you.”

Joel lifted your chin, his gaze meeting yours. “I like you too.”

Then he gestured towards the door, “I’ll come in. Stay a while.”

Your heart skipped a beat as you opened the door and his hand rested on the small of your back.

—

Joel Miller is hard to resist. Especially with the way his tongue grazed the inside of your thighs.

You led him to your room, locking the door behind you. A switch flipped, his eyes hungry, his pants tightening around his thighs. You stood together in your dimly lit bedroom, tongues colliding, hands groping in places you’d never let a stranger go before. It wasn’t long before you pulled away abruptly.

“I have to tell you something first,” you looked around nervously, and sat down on the edge of the bed. Joel’s expression softened, sitting down next to you, pulling your hand into his lap.

“I know it may not seem like it. But, I don’t really have much experience. So, you’ll have to… go slow with me. Maybe even teach me how to do certain things, I guess,” you admitted, absentmindedly picking at a loose thread on your dress hem with your free hand.

Joel brushed your hair out of your face, kissing your shoulder, and then your neck. “Don’t worry, darlin’. I’ll teach you everything you need to know.”

A beat. Then he asked, “Have you… done it before?”

You could feel your face turn flush again as you looked at his hand holding yours. It’s so… huge. Calloused. You wondered if he’s a construction worker or some kind of laborer. You couldn’t remember if he’s ever mentioned his occupation. Then you wondered what it would be like to have those fingers inside you. Sliding in and out as he massages your favorite spot. You might soon find out.

You shook those thoughts from the forefront of your mind to answer his question, “I have. But, just a few times. I never really got anything out of it.”

Your words came with a sheepish inflection. But, Joel didn’t make you feel inadequate or insecure. Instead, he gently held your face, those rough hands against your soft skin.

“I’ll show you,” is all he said.

—

Joel Miller clouded your mind as you pulled your dress over your head, suddenly feeling embarrassed that today of all days you had chosen not to wear a bra. You were exposing your breasts to this man you hardly knew. A man old enough to have raised you. But, Joel didn’t seem to mind. He palmed his bulge through his jeans, watching you undress.

“Do you… Want me to take these off?” you asked, thumbing the waistband of your underwear.

He stepped closer to you, still touching himself through his clothes. “Not now. I’ll tell you when to take ‘em off,” he grunted. “Get on the bed.”

Fire began to burn inside your lower stomach. Maybe you were overthinking this, but Joel was definitely not like the guy you’d been with before. And you realized it was turning you on, Joel being so much older and taking control over you. What could you do to keep him that way? Your answer came swiftly, as you climbed onto the bed and laid down for him. All you needed to do was be obedient.

“What should I do now?” you asked, your breath faltering as he began taking off his pants.

A smirk danced across Joel’s face as he ignored your question, “You like watchin’ me?”

“Yes,” you answered quietly, your core burning hotter than a thousand suns.

After stripping down to his boxers, Joel laid down next to you, his hand firmly planted on your thigh.

“You thinkin’ ‘bout me earlier? At the movie theater?”

“Yes,” you began to melt, wondering if it was possible to explode from his touch alone.

“Good girl,” he cooed, his hand moving towards your underwear. He stopped at the fabric, his hand rubbing the outside. Your breath hitched and he chuckled. His fingers dipped inside, rubbing your clit. Then sliding down to your entrance. You gasped for air as he pulled away. It had been so long since you’d been touched like that, you nearly forgot what it felt like. In fact, it almost felt like nothing you’d ever felt before. You decided to allow this brand-new feeling to wash over you, as Joel nipped at your neck, leaving marks for the world to see.

“God, you’re so wet already,” he murmured. “That all for me?”

“Yes, Joel,” you whispered.

The smirk returned to his face as he crawled down the bed, “Take those off.”

You instantly did as you were told. An excitement brewed inside you, curious to see where this would go. Joel spread your legs apart, a whimper involuntarily leaving your throat as he examined you. He smiled again, shaking his head slightly.

“So pretty,” he grinned, looking up at you. “Anyone ever eat your pussy?”

“N-no. My ex wouldn’t do that,” you explained, suddenly ashamed by your lack of experience. That didn’t seem to deter the older man though. If anything, it fueled his ego even more.

“Don’t worry, darlin’. I’ll make you feel better than that kid ever did.”

—

And you soon learned Joel Miller kept his word.

He began licking you gently, starting at your clit. It took you by surprise, how something you’ve never experienced could feel so fucking good. His tongue shifted up and down, making you moan. Instinctively, you covered your mouth so your neighbors, or even worse, your soon-to-arrive-home roommate, wouldn’t be able to hear you, but Joel reached up to pull your arm away.

“I want everyone in this building to hear you, baby.” He started sucking on your clit, making you whimper even louder. “That’s it, make some noise for me.”

He picked up the pace, your body tensing up, the pleasure coursing through your veins. You began to wonder if you could cum simply from his mouth alone, but soon his fingertips were tracing your hole.

“Please tell me your boyfriend at least fingered you,” Joel teased, dipping inside of you gingerly. You wanted him so badly, but you forgot how to use your words. This seemed to amuse Joel, as he continued to trace the outline with his fingertips.

“Yes,” you stifled another moan, “B-but, he never got me off.”

“Well, you don’t have to worry about that with me, sweetheart, I’m gonna make you cum as hard and as often as I can,” Joel slowly inserted a finger, making you inhale deeply. “That feel okay? Need at least two, maybe three to get you ready for me.”

Hard? Often? Three fingers?! Before you could even begin to process his arrogance, Joel quickly worked his magic, curling his finger inside you. He easily added another one for good measure, your vision going blurry from the satisfaction you were receiving.

“Fuck,” you exclaimed, feeling the wave rising up inside you immediately. You realized it wasn’t arrogance after all. He truly knew what he was doing to you. And he was doing it well. “Joel, I-I think you’re gonna make me cum already.”

“That’s okay, baby, cum all over me,” he murmured and resumed sucking on your clit. And soon enough, your hips convulsed, legs shaking as Joel rode the high with you. He slowed down as you returned to Earth, glancing up at you with a twinkle in his eyes.

“I’m sorry,” you nervously blurted out, “I don’t usually get off that fast.”

His hand reached for yours as he repositioned himself on the mattress, kneeling at your side. “No need to apologize, darlin’. Besides, you’re so pretty when you cum.” He leaned down to kiss you lightly, and you realized his boxers were still on. His cock straining against the fabric. You looked up at him expectantly, biting your lip.

“Alright, sweetheart. Your turn to make me feel good now,” he brought your hand to his waistband. “Take these off,” he growled, the hunger returning to his brown eyes.

You quickly got to work, helping Joel remove what little was left of his clothing. The sight of his cock made your eyes widen. You could feel the wetness dripping down your thighs at the mere thought of what it’d feel like to have him pumping inside you.

You don’t have to imagine that for long though, as Joel’s southern drawl snapped you back to reality. “Touch me,” he ordered, on his knees again next to you. “Show me what you can do.”

Your hand wrapped around his cock. Starting at the base, you moved upward slowly. You kept glancing at Joel to gauge his enjoyment, or worse, any potential displeasure. But, you didn’t need to worry about that. The room was filled with his grunts and moans. You wanted to impress him, so as your hand travelled back up again and your thumb grazed his slit, gathering precum, making the slide back down his shaft even easier.

“Think you were lyin’ to me, darlin’. You know exactly what you’re doin’,” Joel groaned, a sly smile spreading across his face. “Why don’t you try takin’ me in your mouth?”

A fire roared deep within your belly again as you sat up a little straighter. You leaned over with your mouth agape, beginning to suck the tip of his cock. Joel’s whimper startled you, but the sounds of pleasure encouraged you to take more of him. Or as much as you could. He was bigger than you had imagined. Spit dribbled down your chin as Joel reached the back of your throat. You peered up at him as he took a handful of your hair, guiding you as he gently fucked your mouth.

“You look so pretty with your lips wrapped around my cock,” he sighed, “Are you ready for me, baby?”

You nodded, maybe a little too eagerly. It made Joel chuckle as he pushed you back onto the bed, spreading your legs far apart. Holding his cock, he lined up to your entrance, stroking the tip up and down against your pussy. A guttural moan erupted from inside you at the feeling. The primal feeling of needing him inside you now.

“This might hurt,” he whispered, “But, I know you can take my cock.”

His words rang through your ears, making you lightheaded and dripping wet. You nodded slowly and the fire burned even brighter, your eyes meeting his.

Joel stroked himself again as he propped your legs up, “Gonna go nice and slow for you. Just relax and let me make you feel good.”

His fingers dipped inside you again as his other hand wrapped around his cock. He rubbed against your sweet spot, the pressure beginning to build again already.

“Tell me when you’re ready, baby.”

“I’m ready,” you whispered.

—

You couldn’t believe it. After weeks of pining and longing for your favorite customer, Joel Miller, he was finally inside you.

It hurt at first, your body could only manage to take the tip. Guess he was right about needing three fingers. You initially cried out at the strange mix of pleasure and pain. Joel was quick to kiss you, holding you tenderly until you were ready to try again. The second time was the charm. He penetrated you slowly as he grabbed your hand. He placed it over your clit, helping you move in small circles. The bliss radiated throughout your body as Joel continued to enter you until his length went as far as it could go without hurting you any more.

“Knew you could take my cock,” he purred, “Good girl.”

He pumped slowly and deeply, managing to be careful enough not to hit any areas that might hurt you again. “This good, baby? Wanna hear you.”

Joel could hear you alright. You kept rubbing your clit and with each thrust, he hit your G-spot. It was the perfect combination, something you didn’t know could possibly exist. You just knew your sheets were going to be soaked, if they weren’t already.

“If you keep doing this, I’m gonna cum again,” the whine slipped off your lips.

He chuckled, his pace quickening. “Good. Need to get you there a couple more times before it’s my turn. Cum for me.”

And the pressure inside you released and you exploded all over his cock, your cum streaming down the insides of your thighs.

Joel laughed, slowing down to fix your hair. “How was that, baby?”

Your lips quivered as you nodded frantically, practically begging him for more. The sex with your ex-boyfriend completely paled in comparison to this session with Joel. You were starting to hope maybe it could become a regular thing. Maybe Joel could keep showing you the nooks and crannies you didn’t know existed within your body.

Before you had the chance to ask, Joel pulled you up into a sitting position, laying next to you on his back.

“Ever ride before? Think you’ll like it,” he winked, gesturing for you to get on top of him.

You crawled onto his lap, his cock swaying before you. You stared down at him, your legs on either side of his hips, still shaking from your last orgasm.

“Don’t get shy on me now, sweetheart. You need my help?”

You nodded, feeling a little self-conscious. Despite being prone, Joel lifted you up, guiding his cock back inside you. Your eyes widened as it hit new places you had never discovered before. You began to resent your ex a little for being a shitty lover. But, Joel pulled you back into the real world with his honeyed words.

“You’re the one in control, baby. Move the way that feels good,” he encouraged you, setting his hands on your hips.

You began to experiment, rolling your body back and forth slowly. You quickly found a rhythm that worked best for both of you, your moans bouncing off Joel’s sighs. His hand moved forward, thumbing your clit while you rocked your hips. You could feel another orgasm building inside your core, but you slowed down in an attempt to last longer. Joel, of course, noticed.

“You can cum, baby, I don’t mind.”

“But-“

“But, what?”

“I wanna cum with you.”

His eyes sparkled, and he started rubbing your clit faster.

“Wanna cum with me? Say it.”

“I wanna cum with you,” you repeated, tears welling at the corners of your eyes, the stimulation becoming overpowering.

“Say it again, darlin’.”

You couldn’t take it anymore, you were so desperate to feel your release.

“I wanna cum with you.”

And as soon as your words hit the air, your orgasm toppled over you, screams erupting from your throat. Joel followed suit, muttering incoherent nonsense, but the few words you could catch amidst the chaos were, “good girl.” Your hands rested on the headboard as you leaned over Joel, panting like you just finished a marathon. Well, you supposed you kind of did. Glancing at the clock, it had been three hours since you brought him back to your room. In the past, it was usually three minutes.

You lowered yourself back onto the bed, curling up in the crook of Joel’s arm. His scruff brushed against your cheek as he kissed you.

“How was that, baby? You learn anything?”

You giggled, still mesmerized by his touch. And his cock. “I was hoping maybe you could teach me more,” you admitted, taking his hand in yours.

Joel chuckled before kissing you again. “I’ll teach you everything, baby.”

—

#joel miller #joel miller fanfic #joel miller fic #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel tlou #joel x reader #joel x you #the last of us #pedro pascal characters #tlou

1K notes · View notes

joelmillersdumbslut · 9 months

Note

you slayed so hard with that new chapter omg I love it

thank you so much, this literally means the world to me 🥺 this is the first fic i’ve ever written and i’m so grateful for all the love!! ❤️

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joelmillersdumbslut · 9 months

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I took your matches before fire could catch me (part two)

(joel miller x f!reader) 18+

summary: After your first date with Joel Miller, you wind up at his house begging him for more. (no outbreak. no use of y/n) rating: 18+ explicit (minors do NOT interact) warnings (for this chapter): age gap (reader is in late 20's, joel is mid 50's), dirty talk, pet names, reader is kind of a brat, masturbation, fingering, unprotected p in v sex, oral sex (f! receiving), daddy kink, hand kink, referenced cheating, degradation, angst, orgasm delay/denial, bondage (gags) word count: 2.8k a/n: thanks for the love on the first chapter, hope you all enjoy this one too <3

a03 link

It’s been a week and you can’t stop thinking about Joel’s cock. You’ve masturbated every night to the thought of him fucking you in that bar bathroom, the way his large fingers curled up inside you, bringing you to the brink of losing control. But, your self-induced orgasms are nothing compared to the one you had with Joel. You keep chasing it. Every night when you get off work, you scurry to your room, using your hands, toys, vibrators, pillows, anything to get you close to that feeling you had with Joel. You even wore his unwashed flannel, the smell of him lingering while you touched yourself. It just didn’t work.

So, after another lame attempt at a messy and desperate masturbation session, you look up his profile on Lily. A sigh of relief escapes you as you realize you’re still matched, the last message being from you saying you had arrived at the bar.

You type. Then erase. You type. Then erase. What the fuck are you supposed to say?

Hey Joel, I had a fun time last week. Can you fuck my brains out again?

Or maybe…

Hey Joel, I’m sending you an invoice for the dry cleaning for my favorite dress. Can you cum on me again?

You’re about to throw your phone in frustration, when you realize you had accidentally hit “send” on one of your drafts. And it was possibly the most pathetic message you could have sent.

I need you.

You groan out loud, but not before your phone vibrates almost immediately. It’s a message from Joel. It’s an address.

Then another message.

Babygirl.

Come home now.

—

You drive. Fast. You’re wearing his flannel shirt, opting for an unbuttoned look to show off your black bralette underneath. And a pair of high-waisted denim shorts that show off the curve of your ass. You had dressed quickly, but calculated, hoping he’d be there waiting for you. Visions of Joel touching himself, pacing back and forth in his home waiting just for you to arrive fills your mind. You daydream through intersections and stop signs.

You finally pull up to a cozy home on the other side of town, parking across the street. You realize you had been white knuckling the steering wheel. You take a deep breath and step outside the vehicle. The house looks dark. Maybe he’s not home? Your knuckles rap on the door anyway. It opens swiftly after your second knock. You bite your lip, noticing something growing in Joel’s pajama pants.

“Sarah’s sleepin’, so you need to be quiet,” he whispers. “You gonna be a good girl tonight?”

You nod quickly, following him inside.

—

His room is huge. But, the bed is even bigger. He locks the door behind you, a table lamp emitting a dim light throughout the room. There’s a framed painting on the wall, something abstract. You don’t know enough about art to care. There’s an exercise bike in one corner of the room, although it’s currently being used as a clothes hanger. You notice more odds and ends, like books and blueprints scattered among a desk and the surface of his dresser. Definitely the kind of bedroom that belongs to a man.

You inch yourself closer to the bed. Kick off your shoes. Then you turn around to stare at him, unsure of who should make the first move. So, Joel does.

“Why are you here?” he suddenly asks, pulling his shirt over his head.

You raise your eyebrows, “You invited me.”

“I know that, smart-ass,” he marches toward you, his large hands wrapping around your waist. “Why’d you message me?”

Suddenly, you feel guilty. Like maybe you shouldn’t be here after all. You realize how dumb and cock hungry you are. Pining over the older man you met online who turned out to be the brother of your affair partner from years ago. Isn’t this kind of weird?

Well, your body certainly doesn’t think so. You can feel yourself getting wet already.

“I… I want you,” you whisper.

Joel starts biting your neck, leaving hot kisses against your skin. You can’t help but moan. He pulls back, his eyes shooting daggers.

“Thought I told you to be quiet.”

“Then why’d you want me to be so loud in the bar?”

Joel glares again and your eyes narrow at him.

“So, you’re gonna be a brat tonight,” he huffs, leaving you to retrieve something from his dresser.

You stand there, hands on your hips. “Yeah, I guess I am.”

He returns with a tie. It’s floral with flamingos. You get ready to make a joke at Joel’s expense, but he begins to wrap the fabric around your head as a makeshift gag. Your skin burns against his touch, you can feel yourself soaking your underwear even more. You want to protest, but you can’t. Not with this stupid piece of fabric stuffed in your mouth.

“Only good girls get to cum,” he says.

—

Joel strips you of your clothing until you’re standing naked in his room. Couple that with the gag in your mouth, you start to feel self-conscious and cross your arms. Pretending you’re annoyed with him, but secretly you’re doing this in a feeble attempt to hide the parts of your body you don’t like. Your insecurity doesn’t seem to bother Joel, though, who’s looking straight at you, palming himself through his pajama pants.

“Get on the bed,” he growls.

You do as you're told, laying down flat on your back. Joel finishes undressing, your eyes widening. You had felt how big his cock was, but you actually hadn’t seen it until now. No wonder you couldn’t get off by yourself. Your toys and hands were a complete and utter disappointment compared to what was lying in wait between his legs. You begin to squirm in anticipation.

To your surprise, Joel smiles briefly. You didn’t think he was capable of expressing that kind of emotion. He shakes his head and climbs onto the mattress, towering over you.

“You get this cock when you behave. Understand?”

You nod frantically, eyes widening. I’ll be a good girl, I’ll be a good girl, I promise! you want to scream. Joel kisses your neck again, trailing down your body. He takes a handful of your breast, squeezing gently and playing with your nipple. His touch is irresistible, and your whines are muffled beneath the fabric of his flamingo tie. You so wish you could scream right now.

Reading your mind, Joel puts a finger up to his lips, “Gotta be quiet if you want daddy to fuck you.”

You choke on the makeshift gag, your pussy throbbing as he makes his way to your inner thighs. His lips brush against your clit and you writhe around underneath him.

“Did Tommy go down on you, babygirl?” Joel asks, his tongue lapping up the liquid seeping from between your legs.

You shake your head furiously, your hands burrowing into the blankets around you. Sure, you’ve done this with guys before, but with Joel, it felt like a whole new world. How does he know exactly what to do to make you feel this way? And without you even guiding him?

“You’re so fuckin’ wet,” he murmurs, his lips sucking and kissing your clit. He glances up at you with a mischievous grin.

“You really liked it when daddy fucked you with his fingers, didn’t you,” he mutters, his long fingers pressing against your entrance. You silently plead with him with your eyes and after teasing you for a few more moments, he hurriedly sinks his digits inside you. You bite the cloth of the tie as hard as you can to prevent yourself from making any noise. You feel lightheaded as his fingers pump in and out of you while his tongue washes over you, suppressed moans from both of you bouncing around the room.

“You thinkin’ ‘bout Tommy when I touch you? When I eat this pussy?” his words vibrate against you.

You shake your head again, feeling hot tears roll down your cheeks as you get closer and closer to climax. It’s so overwhelming in the best way imaginable.

“Then who are you thinkin’ ‘bout?” a smirk dances across his face. Every nerve in your body is set ablaze.

Joel.

You realize you’re not just thinking his name, but you’re screaming it too. Or, at least you’re trying your damnedest to scream with that flamingo tie jammed down your fucking throat.

And then you realize you’re about to cum. What you had been waiting an entire week for is almost within your grasp. But, Joel knows and he pulls out. An exasperated sigh departs your lungs and your eyes flutter closed, feeling your clit pulsate. The punishment continues.

But, then, something slides into you. It hurts a little, and you open your eyes again. Joel is leaning over you, breathing heavily, his cock pushing into you. Your scowl quickly turns into a sneer as you think about how unfortunate it is that you’re gagged, that you can’t make another joke about Joel’s inability to last long while he’s inside you.

But, something feels… different. He runs his thumb over your clit while he fucks you, nice and slow. Not at a ravenous pace like he was the week before. It almost feels gentle and soft compared to the encounter in the bar bathroom.

“You were a good girl,” he pants, and your eyes begin to roll to the back of your skull once he finds your sweet spot. Your pussy getting wetter, tightening around him.

“You gonna cum? I wanna feel you, babygirl.”

Those few words were all it took for you to cum all over Joel’s cock without any warning. And apparently that’s all it took for Joel too as he pulls out, stroking himself once. Twice. Then warm, sticky strings exploding across your soft stomach. The two of you lay next to each other, chests rising and falling. Joel glances over at you, motioning for you to sit up. You do so, vision still blurry from your orgasm, and he unties the gag from your mouth.

Before you can say anything, he kisses you. Maybe you’re still cock drunk because it feels like a real kiss. One that fills your belly with butterflies. Making you see stars and planets floating through a galaxy. You don’t have time to think more about it before you’re asleep in the crook of his arm.

—

You wake up to sunlight piercing through the curtains. Which is weird because you have blackout curtains. As your eyes dart around the room, you suddenly realize you’re not in your bed.

Where the fuck are you?

Then you remember what happened last night. How you broke down and messaged Joel on that stupid dating app. How he invited you over to his house and fucked you senseless again. But, then he kissed you. And not a sloppy kiss either, but one filled with sweetness and intention.

And then you remember falling asleep in his arms.

What the fuck?

You rub your eyes and look around the bedroom. Joel’s gone. Did he up and leave you? In his own house?

You crawl out of bed, examining the room for any sign of life. You notice your clothes are folded in a neat pile on a chair in the corner of the room. There’s a note too.

Take a shower. Come downstairs.

—

After scrubbing yourself clean from the night before, you step back into the bedroom to get dressed. You notice Joe had laid out another one of his flannel shirts for you. It’s navy blue. You put it on, making sure to button up all the way this time in case his daughter is downstairs. That would be mega awkward. Maybe not as awkward as her hearing you fuck her dad though.

You bound down the stairs, following the smell of bacon. You wander into the kitchen, spotting Joel, who is fully dressed and standing at the stove. Pops and sizzles fill the air. He looks back over his shoulder, nodding at you to sit at one of the bar stool chairs propped up against the kitchen island. You do as you’re silently told. You stare at his back while he finishes up the cooking. Sitting as still as possible.

Joel chuckles, still not looking at you.

“What’s so funny?” you ask, narrowing your eyes.

“You’re behaving this morning. Just surprised is all,” he answers, sliding some eggs onto a plate. He turns around and sets it down in front of you.

“I behaved last night too,” you say in a hushed tone, your eyes scanning the kitchen in case his daughter is nearby.

“Not at first,” Joel corrects you.

You roll your eyes and begin to dig in. The eggs are scrambled to perfection, with sprinkles of cheese mixed in. You’re about to give your compliments to the chef when you notice he’s been gazing at you, waiting to speak.

“We need to talk.”

“About?”

“You know what.”

You swallow. Hard.

“Sarah can’t know about this,” his voice transforms into a whisper, “Tommy can’t know about this. No one can know about this.”

You push the plate forward, your hands shaking. You certainly weren’t expecting a relationship out of this, but you analyze the severity of the situation. You’re gonna fuck this guy in secret and sneak around? Especially after you ruined his family once already? You don’t want to do it. You don’t want this to burn out as quickly as it began. But, you decide maybe it’s best to cut your losses while you’re ahead. Before you get attached. Before it ends like all the rest.

“I’ll go home. Thanks for breakfast,” you say, standing up from your seat.

Joel reaches for you, grabbing your hand. His calloused fingers intertwine with yours, squeezing you tight. You don’t pull away. But, you know you need to say something.

“Look, Joel,” you can feel tears welling at the corners of your eyes while you babble, “I don’t know what the fuck you want from me. You give me the most mixed signals in the world and expect me to understand them. You hate me because I fucked your brother. But, then you have sex with me in the bathroom of a bar. Then you invite me over after I message you just so you can fuck me again. And you have to constantly humiliate me and remind me of the choice I made six fucking years ago. The one I want to forget so badly. But, then you tell me what a good girl I am when you hate fuck me. Can you see why I’m so confused?”

He’s staring at you. Nodding. Your eyes widen as you realize he’s actually listening to you intently. You keep rambling.

“I don’t know what we’re doing, but wouldn’t it be, like, weird if your brother found out? What would your daughter say? Maybe we should stop.”

Joel is silent. He lets go of your hand.

“If that’s what you want,” he huffs.

If that’s what you want…

If that’s what you want???

“Do you even know what I want, Joel?”

He raises his eyebrows, waiting for you to continue.

“I want you to keep fucking me. Because you make me feel things I’ve never felt before. Feelings and sensations I’ve never experienced by myself or with any other man. Not even that one time with your brother. And even though it’s only been a week, I can’t stop thinking about you. There’s something about you that I just can’t quit.”

You fumble with the buttons on the cuff of the flannel shirt, not bothering to look up at Joel. You think you've said all that needs to be said.

He sighs.

“Listen. I don’t like you. Not after what you did to my family.”

Your heart sinks into your stomach. As if you had a chance with him anyway. However, he continues.

“But, there’s somethin’ ‘bout you that I just can’t quit either. So, I propose this.”

You look him in his brown eyes, eagerly waiting for what he has to say.

“You and I keep this a secret. You only come over when Sarah’s gone or otherwise incapacitated. I go over to your place when it’s best for you. No attachments. And no one finds out. Deal?”

He holds out his hand, waiting for you to shake on it. You stare at his fingers, the ones that have already casted a spell on you. Your hand slips into his.

“Deal.”

—

#joel miller fanfic #joel miller fic #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller smut #tlou #joel tlou #joel x you #joel x reader #joel miller #the last of us #pedro pascal characters

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joelmillersdumbslut · 10 months

Text

I took your matches before fire could catch me

(joel miller x f!reader) 18+ part one

summary: Who knew meeting Joel Miller on a dating app would turn into the world's worst first date? (no outbreak. no use of y/n) rating: 18+ explicit (minors do NOT interact) warnings (for this chapter): age gap (reader is in late 20's, joel is mid 50's), dirty talk, pet names, fingering, dubious consent, p in v sex, unprotected sex, daddy kink, drinking, hand kink, referenced cheating, degradation, angst, orgasm delay/denial. word count: 2.4k a/n: this is my first ever fic, please be gentle :')) a03 link

Another Friday night with a bottle of wine and shitty reality tv to keep you company. It suddenly hits you. Pangs of loneliness. You’re nearly 28 years old and you’re destined for the single life. Relationships never seem to last with you, or at least make it past the honeymoon phase. You take a sip straight from the bottle as you curse the boys who pretend to be men. The ones who’ve fucked you over, the ones who “aren’t ready for a relationship” after declaring their love for you and fucking you for six months, but will change their status and post a picture on Facebook with their arms wrapped around a new woman days after your breakup. When will it be your turn?

You’re soon drunk enough to make questionable decisions. You download that new dating app your friends keep gushing about. Lily. You tap on your phone screen, a picture of a flower loading up with the catchphrase “Are you ready for your love to bloom?” You groan at that alone, tempted to turn right around and delete the app already. But, something inside you tugs at you to give it a try anyway. You upload pictures, some selfies, some with friends, some candids at the beach, at a concert, at the park. Your bio is hard to come up with though. How can you use 400 characters to describe yourself to a stranger? You settle with including your name, a generic title of your occupation, some of your hobbies, and ending it with an open invitation for drinks. There. Easy enough, right?

Now, it’s time to swipe. Apparently when you like someone’s profile, you send them a virtual flower. A lily, to be exact. In order to message someone, they have to send you a lily back. You start to wonder if this app can get any cornier when your first profile appears in the queue. He’s an older man. 56 to be exact. You don’t remember setting an age limit, but you’re intrigued by his handsome appearance. His dark hair appears to be graying, his brown eyes sinking into you from beyond the screen. You swipe through his profile. He has nothing written so you have to guess his personality and hobbies from the pictures alone. There’s a picture of him with a teenage girl. Maybe his daughter? Another one of him playing guitar. Maybe he likes music. Maybe he’s a rockstar. He looks rugged enough to be one. A picture of him sitting at a table in red flannel with a beer in hand, a small smile emerging from behind his facial hair. He’s… hot. And too old for you. Fuck it. You send him a lily. Then you throw your phone down and pace all night wondering if he’ll send you one back.

In the morning, you're matched with Joel.

—

You ask Joel out for drinks. Immediately within your first message. All the dating advice given to you by the Internet says not to wait. Get to know someone as fast as possible for best results. No time to get attached if it doesn’t work out. You’re not much of a texter anyway, so you ask him if he wants to grab some beers at your favorite dive bar. You hate beer. You hate dive bars. But, you’d be willing to drink a thousand pale ales if it meant you got to share this attractive man’s air supply.

Joel simply says, “Yes.”

—

You realize you stand out at the bar. And not in a good way. You wanted to wear something to reflect your personality. So, you picked out a baby pink bodycon dress that stops at the middle of your thighs. You paired it with your favorite white ankle strap heels. Perfect for a night club. Not for meeting a middle aged dad at a dive bar. You decided you’d worry about that later.

You’re early. Like always. You belly up to the bar, unsure of what to order. You assume they don’t have your favorite brand of white wine, so you ask for your dad’s go-to. Whiskey on the rocks. It’s bitter, and you begin to gag as a man comes up behind you, resting his hand on the small of your back. The smell of sandalwood and dirt pierces your nostrils. You turn to see Joel. He’s wearing jeans and that red flannel from his picture.

“I like women who can hold their liquor,” he states, looking you up and down.

“Well, that’s not me,” you wince, eager to change the subject. “You must be Joel?”

You choose to go for a hug, he holds out his hand instead. The two of you stare at each other, reaching a stalemate, the jukebox in this shitty ass bar blasting a country song you hate. You shake his hand. Noticing his fingers are rough, calloused, and thick. Probably from the guitar playing. Maybe he really is a rockstar.

You sit down on the bar stool, crossing your legs as best as you can. It’s probably not wise to flash a man on the first date. Joel requests a beer from the bartender, and the two of you look anywhere but each other. You start to ask questions.

“So. You play guitar?”

“Yeah.”

“What music do you play?”

“All kinds.”

“Okay. What’s your favorite song to play?”

“Don’t know.”

You pound back your whiskey, slam the glass on the counter, and motion the bartender for another.

“Is that your daughter in your picture?”

“Yeah.”

“What’s her name?”

“Sarah.”

“Oh, that’s nice. How old is she?”

“Sixteen.”

“Cool. You a single dad then?”

“Yeah.”

You squint at him. This is worse than pulling teeth without Novocain. You decide to launch the ball into his court.

“So. Is there anything you wanna know about me?”

“Yeah, actually. Ain’t you the one who fucked Tommy? While he was still married?”

Your skin ignited. The wind completely knocked out of you. How does he know about… that? How does he know about the guy you slept with one time in college? And even worse, does he know how much you enjoyed the affair, even though you ruined that guy’s marriage and, ostensibly, the rest of his life?

“I’m not sure I know what you’re talking about,” you muse, trying to keep your cool.

Joel slams the beer bottle on the counter, its contents flying out the neck and hitting your dress. You stand up, wobbly deer in headlights.

“How do you know?” is all you can whisper.

“Because he’s my brother.”

Tears began welling up in your eyes, your hands shaking. “I was 21, I didn’t know any better.”

“Whatever.” Joel says, turning away from you.

You grab your purse and sprint to the bathroom. Congratulations, you’ve just set a new record for the world's worst first date.

—

You stare in the mirror. Tears streaming down your face. Your makeup is ruined. You’ve accepted that. You’re so angry that this old memory is bubbling up to the surface. The one you’ve tried so hard to push down for the past six years. You met Tommy at a bar while out with your college friends. You noticed the wedding ring, the framed photos on the walls of his living room, but you fucked him anyways. And you left your underwear behind for his wife to find. You enjoyed every moment of it. You even got off to the memories of that one night stand for months after the fact. You’re a goddamn monster. You’ve accepted that.

But, what you can’t accept is that Joel just ruined your favorite dress.

You take a deep breath between sobs, scrounging through your purse for a Xanax. The bathroom door is kicked open, and you turn to yell at the intruder to get out.

But, it’s Joel.

You stare at him with a blank expression while he locks the door behind him. Something you were too distressed to do.

“What are you doing?” you whisper. “Haven’t you had enough from humiliating me in public?”

“No,” he exhales.

Joel quickly shoves you up against the wall. Your purse and its belongings clatter against the dirty floor. You gulp as his left arm leans against the wall, the other reaching up to caress your cheek.

“What was it like?” he asks.

“What was... what like?” you counter.

“Don’t get smart with me.”

You feel like you should be scared. But, you’re not. If anything, you’re super turned on right now while the brother of the man you had an affair with all those years ago begins to fondle you in the bathroom of a dive bar.

Joel’s right hand grabs your breast, he toys with it while staring into your eyes. You can’t help but moan and he pinches harder.

“Answer me,” he growls.

“It was… It was stupid. I was a dumb college girl and what I did was wrong.”

“Then, why’d you do it?”

You swallow. His hand moves down, brushing against your stomach, heading towards the hem of your dress.

“Is this how you treat every girl on the first date? Corner her and interrogate her li-li-like a creep?” you try to sound venomous, but your words are shaky. He notices.

“You can leave any time you want, babygirl.”

The word “babygirl” causes a sensation to ripple through your core. You feel a wetness spreading between your thighs. What the fuck is wrong with you?

You finally answer, “I just wanted his attention. I’ve always liked… Older men.”

Joel pauses, his hand hovering over your thighs. He meets your gaze again.

“Do you now?”

Then he pounces. Before you can even comprehend what’s happening, his fingers are inside your underwear, rubbing your clit. Your head hangs forward as you moan against his touch.

“That what you sounded like when Tommy touched you?”

“N-no,” you sputter, your hips bucking up involuntarily.

“I wanna hear what you sounded like.”

Joel spins you around so you’re facing the wall now, his fingers still groping your pussy. He hikes up your dress and pulls your underwear to the side.

“Wh-why do you wanna hear? You a pervert?” you shoot back at him, but your body betrays you and a gush of wetness secretes from between your thighs.

“You’re a naughty fuckin’ girl, you know that?” Joel mutters in your ear. You hear the sound of his belt unbuckling, something prodding against your back. Something big.

“Someone needs to teach you a lesson,” he adds, his fingers now tracing your entrance.

“For what? Fucking your brother? Sounds like someone’s jealous,” you spit. “Like you can still get it up anyway.”

And with that, Joel’s fingers pound into you, a whine fleeing your throat. It hurts at first, but the enjoyment you’re experiencing is quickly overpowering. You shudder at the way his fingers glide in and out of you at a rapid pace.

“Too quiet,” Joel grumbles, biting at your neck. “I wanna hear what you sounded like.”

“You wanna hear me? I’ll make sure everybody in the fucking bar hears me,” you hiss back at him and begin to wail with pleasure.

You quickly feel a pressure growing inside your lower belly. You feel startled, your hands grasping against the wall for anything to hold onto.

“Did Tommy make you cum like this?” Joel whispers in your ear.

You shake your head violently. How does this man know you’re so close already?

“Wanna hear you, babygirl.”

Fuck. There it is again.

You moan Joel’s name as loud as you physically can while your body tenses up and you ultimately surrender to its release. You glance in the mirror on the other side of the room. Watching yourself get finger fucked by this strange old man in a bar bathroom sends you over the edge. What kind of person have you turned into?

Before you can even catch your breath, you feel the tip of his cock plunging into you. You let out a yelp, and you feel Joel’s hand on top of yours. He’s still covered in your cum, and his fingers interlace with yours.

“If you can fuck Tommy, you can take daddy’s cock.”

Your eyes are nearly bulging out of your fucking skull. You try to distract yourself from how turned on you are, how your pussy is already throbbing for more. Especially at the mere mention of Joel calling himself, “daddy.”

“Daddy, huh? You really are a pervert,” you cough as Joel pushes into you.

“You need to be punished,” is all he says. You feel his cock sitting inside you, but Joel doesn’t move. You start whining, rocking your hips back and forth in an attempt to get friction, something, anything. Joel’s hands are immediately on your hips, forcing you to sit still.

“You ruined my favorite dress, the least you can do is make me cum,” you snap at him, squirming in place.

“And you ruined my brother’s life, the least you can do is take your punishment like a good girl.”

This was the most you’d heard him speak all evening. Was he really this hung up on something that happened years ago? And not even directly to him?

Before you can unleash another quip, a heavy groan escapes Joel as he begins to pump relentlessly. Guess he had enough of trying to punish you too.

“You’re a brat, you know that?” he snarls, his fingers digging into your hips again, bruises already forming underneath your soft skin.

“I always get what I want,” you murmur, feeling the pressure building inside you again. Your body starts clenching down on his, you begin to pant against the wall. You’re so fucking close.

“Don’t think so, babygirl,” Joel grunts, quickly pulling out.

Instinctively, you whine, and are about to call him a two pump chump when you realize he’s cumming all over your back. His sticky essence dripping down your skin. Your pussy throbs, dissatisfied with the neglect he gave you. Turning around, you see his pants already buckled again and he’s taking off his flannel, tossing it at you. Before you can process what is happening, you glance in the mirror realizing there are now not only beer stains, but also cum stains all over your favorite dress. You catch the shirt in your hands and stand there, mouth agape, as Joel leaves the restroom in a huff.

—

#joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller x you #joel miller fic #tlou #the last of us #joel miller fanfic #joel x you #joel x reader #joel miller #joel tlou

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