#joel looks so OFFENDED | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

softlyspector · 6 months

Text

Juniper

Summary: You're sleepy. Joel knows a good way to put you to sleep.

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!Reader

Word count: ~1.4k

Warnings: unedited and written in a feverish haze in like an hour, pussy eating king Joel, f!receiving oral, uhhh that's it, that's the fic.

A/N: Happy Halloween! This fic has absolutely nothing to do with Halloween. As always, love to hear your lovely thoughts! Thanks for reading!

“I’m too tired, Joel,” you mutter, pushing clumsy fingers through his hair. “Haven’t slept in two days.” His nose pushes against your thigh, beard rough against your skin. “Feels like anyway.”

Nose against the hinge of your knee, fingers under the plush curve of your ass, digging into the soft flesh. His eyes are closed. He looks at peace, the lines by his eyes not as stark, the bags under his eyes not as dark or puffy. “Good thing I ain’t askin’ you to do anything.”

“Mm,” you tug on the dark locks between your fingers, that seems to be peppered and threaded each day with more and more gray. “Aren’t you tired?”

Joel just tugs you closer by your hips, shoulder under your opposite thigh, broad palm splayed across your belly. “Yep. Want this more.”

He isn’t though. Not as tired as he has been in the past. He sleeps without dreaming, and you know sometimes he feels guilty for that, even if he feels better for it. He kisses the hinge of your knee, lips parted when he blinks up at you. His eyes are dark, pupils blown wide with want. “You’re so good to me,” you say, still pulling at the threads of his hair, letting them slip through your fingers. “Aren’t you?”

Joel’s thumb slides over your stomach, the dip of your navel, and you lose his eyes, a noncommittal sound made deep in the back of his throat.

“You are,” you confirm. It’s rosy, the color in his cheeks, even in the dark quiet of your bedroom.

“If you believe it,” he grumbles, tense and irritated about it, mouth working back down your thigh. “I will too.”

“Okay,” you agree. “I believe it.” Always have, you want to add, but you’re dangerously close to making him bristle and pull away, and so you don’t.

His mouth makes it to your hip, the caress of his touch like a dull fire, like a hot blade. He squeezes your ass. “You really too tired?” If you said yes, he would pull away without a word of complaint.

You can barely keep your eyes open but there’s tension locked up in your shoulders from being on your feet for hours, a beginning of want curling around the base of your spine with the slow way he worshiped you. “No,” you admit. “I guess not.”

“Guess?”

You hum and tuck your hands through his hair again, guiding him to your core. “Yeah.”

“Uh-huh,” he says against your clothed cunt, some levity returning to his voice. “Like I said, you ain’t gotta do anything, darlin’. Just lie there and look pretty.”

You stroke the divot between his eyes, chest and stomach cinching tight at his nearness, the hot pulse of his breath against your center. He mouths at your underwear before he hooks a finger in the material and tugs it to the side.

“Joel,” you murmur, and then pinch his cheek. He grunts and jerks away from your offending hand. “I’m holding you to that.”

He rolls his eyes and pinches you back, right on the swell of your ass. You jump, twitching in his grasp, inadvertently bringing your body closer to him. “Yeah. Just like I said.” He soothes the little ache, rubbing the spot he pinched. “You’re fallin’ asleep on me anyhow.”

You do feel closer to sleep than ever, warm in his grasp, safe with his skin against yours, almost too hot where his shoulders rest against the backs of your thighs. It’s comforting, that warmth, the curve of his body under yours, the sharp twinge of want blooming wider in your belly, expansive and vast and needful. It’s knowing too, that he would satiate that vastness and leave you picked cleaned, sucked dry.

He leans in and inhales against you, tongue sliding through your folds, experimental and slow, just tasting, the point of his tongue rubbing over your clit.

“Oh,” you exhale, quiet with it.

You’ve always been self conscious about that, about how you sound, how loud. Even though you aren’t, you know you aren’t.

And Joel wants to hear you. He likes to hear it, even if he’s quiet himself. He likes knowing he’s doing a good job.

The hand cupped around your ass slides down, to the back of your thigh, before he’s unwinding himself from you, pushing two fingers through your curls, through the slick dripping from you.

He groans into you, the vibration of it sending shockwaves up through your chest, unfurling embers around the hooks of your ribs. It spreads you open, spears into the twisting curl of your gut, the want washing like a wave there.

Joel’s fingers circle your entrance, push slow and sure into you, stretching you just right, in a familiar way that makes the sea inside you flood its borders. His mouth comes away from you wet, webs of your want glistening on his lips and in his beard.

He looks dazed and drunk and maybe sleepy, too, just from the taste of you, from minutes and hours spent between your thighs. His fingers curl lazily inside you, digging into that fleshy, spongy part of you, that makes a gasp tear from your throat.

“There y’are,” he says, nose nudging against your pussy again, the messy fringe of his hair falling over his forehead, obscuring the dark cast of his blown open eyes from you.

He drowns in you one slow taking at a time, the caressing curl of the flat of his tongue, the press of his fingers that already knows everything inside you and still asks for more. He’s careful with it, taking his time, building you up slow and careful with attention you think might be better put elsewhere, but he likes to lie it down with you, likes to know every little nerve ending and every pinch and contraction of muscle and sinew.

He can take better care of you that way, after all, if he learned it all well enough.

Your mind is already fuzzy with too many sleepless nights in a row, too many hours on your feet, and the press of him against you, the delicate twitch of muscle in his shoulders, the way he groans into you, drinks from you like he’d gladly stay buried in your pussy forever—it both brings you searingly alive and sends you spiraling closer to sleep, relaxed and coiled impossibly tight all at once.

Joel knows it, too.

But there are still things he doesn’t know, like how when he inadvertently pushes that wide palm of his against your belly as he tries to bring you impossibly closer, it makes everything in you go white hot with the pressure, a bolt of lightening pleasure cracking up your spine, branching out across your whole body. You gasp and grip his hair tight and push him against you, back arching with the effort of it.

There’s just a second’s pause, and then he’s moving, devouring, like a man starved, a snarling, hungry kind of consuming that makes you forget every thought you’ve ever had about being quiet.

Your eyes flutter closed, the image of strong arms and thick shoulders tense with need, with the desperation that you passed onto him so easily, imprinted behind your lids. The curve of your calf presses into his back, urging him to a further closeness that is not possible. Getting closer would mean fusing your bodies together.

He groans again when you come, gushing over his mouth in an almost embarrassing show of arousal. The ever tightening coil burning in your stomach and chest snaps and unravels and unspools, limbs going loose and pliant, muscle twitching sluggishly.

The exhaustion falls over you like a veil, presses in on you from all sides in a dark tide. His fingers slide from your aching hole, pruned with wet that doesn’t stop him from sucking them clean. He grips your hip tight and hauls himself up to kiss you, the taste of your body heavy on his mouth, the scent of his clean skin surrounding you in a cloud—juniper, you think, like that soap you found.

He tastes like you, like salt.

“Christ,” he murmurs against your lips, forehead tight against yours, breathing deep and slow, just like he had between your legs. “You’re so good.”

He’s stiff in the cradle of your thighs, achingly hard.

You curl your arms around his shoulders, urge him in closer. “I’m good ‘cause you’re good to me.” When you push his briefs down and guide him to you, he doesn’t protest, just goes easy with it, willing.

Oops! Sorry for no Halloween fics, you like this anyway. Thanks for reading! Would love to know what you think! 💕

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you

1K notes · View notes

bluebeary-jay · 1 year

Text

That funny feeling

Joel Miller x f!Reader

Summary: pet names are something that's equally very easy and very hard for Joel (based on this request!)

Tags: established relationship, F-L-U-F-F, a grain of angst, idiots in love, a lot of overthinking uGH, mutual dumbassery, love deprived (& soft) Joel, i'm playing with the timeline here a bit, alsoo suggestive undertones hehe

Warnings: swearing and miscommunication, and nothing more ig

Word count: 3.6K

A/N: i'm finally feeling okay!! it took a while and i'm sorry for the wait. as always i hope you all will like what i came up with, and thank you again dear for requesting 💕

One of the things you noticed during those first few months of being in a relationship with Joel – and one which probably surprised you the most – was his fondness for using endearments when he was addressing you.

He called you by many names – darlin’, sweetheart and baby were just a tip of the iceberg.

And you adored it. Every single one of them.

How could you not when those pet names sounded so precious in that low and gruff voice of his? When the fact that he chose to let you get a glimpse at his softer side made you feel so special?

He clearly liked doing this, too – and, as you suspected, watching your reaction when you received them. The tug of his lips and that dimple you so loved were an indicator enough that he wasn’t doing it out of obligation or because it was somehow expected of him.

Another thing that surprised you was how casual he was about it. Having not been in a proper relationship before made you feel out of your depth here, but from what you gathered, neither was he. At least for some time.

And yet, he seemed to have no problem or reservations about addressing you this way. He started even before he kissed you for the first time. You suspected that back then it was his strategy to show you – without voicing his intentions out loud – how he felt about you. It worked, somehow (because how were you supposed to resist that southern charm of his?), and once you both settled who you want to be for one another, it was like a switch flipped inside him.

But instead of turning it off, it only amplified his new habit and added more love and tenderness to the tone of his voice when he was calling you pet names.

You certainly were not complaining – especially when Joel was muttering those sweet words in a raspy voice into your skin when you were just waking up, or whispering them in your ear when you were passing each other during the day, brushing his hand against your waist.

So it was probably no surprise that you wanted to return the favor. The longer you were with each other, the more you wondered about what it would be like to call Joel by one of those endearments he used for you. If he would smile, if his eyes would crinkle in that adorable way…

Something was stopping you, though. Every time you were in public and Joel wasn’t currently looking at you, you were reminded of what kind of man you thought he was before you actually got to know him. His expression, the look in his eyes and his very presence were so intimidating that it gave you a pause each time. You knew he was a sweet, loving soul inside and it wasn’t like he’d be offended by being called by an affectionate nickname, or like your relationship would spiral down because of that.

…right?

What you did know, however, was that Joel Miller was a caretaker. A giver. And you wanted to take care of him, too, to make him feel as loved and cherished as he was making you feel – something you hadn’t a clue if you were doing right due to your own inexperience.

So one day, while you were tending to horses in the stables – one of your responsibilities in Jackson – you finally decided to stop overthinking and just… do what feels right to you. You were two grown-ass people. If anything happens – but probably nothing will – you’ll talk it out like adults.

You got lost in your own thoughts as you absent-mindedly brushed the coat of one of the horses. Suddenly, your attention was drawn by the animal neighing loudly but before you could look up, two strong arms embraced you from behind and a pair of lips pressed themselves to your neck.

You squealed in surprise, and then burst into giggles, when you felt Joel’s beard tickling your skin as he planted tender kisses on your neck, going down to your shoulder.

“Mornin’, sweetheart.”

It was not morning, but you haven’t seen him at all today since he left very early to help Tommy and some other men build a new storage house near the main street. As usual, you planned on meeting him when you’re done in the stables, but you were more than happy that he chose to surprise you.

“Hi,” you giggled. You tried to turn around to face him, but Joel grumbled and held you tighter to his chest, so you settled for putting your hand on the back of his head in an awkward half-hug. “You have some nerve coming here after you left me so rudely in the morning.”

He let out a sound between a groan and a chuckle.

“I tried to say goodbye, but you were out cold.”

“You didn’t try hard enough, then.”

“Fine. Next time I’ll shake you awake.” He pressed his lips to your pulse, planting a soft kiss there, and then another one a little bit lower, murmuring into your skin. “But you wouldn’t do that either if you were me and had an angel in your bed.”

You blew a raspberry and shook your head, making him hum against your neck with a smile. “Too much?”

“Just a little.” You turned around in his arms, and he dropped his head on your shoulder. “How’s work going?”

The man sighed heavily.

“It’s goin’. But I swear to God, Tommy gets more insufferable the sooner due date is. He almost lost it when some of the materials went missin’.”

“Well, it’s understandable with a little Miller on the way,” you replied, ruffling the hair on the back of his head and making Joel give you the stink eye. You scrunched your nose at him teasingly. “Get that pout off your face, mister, and better start thinking about what we’re watching tonight. My place, right?”

“Mhm.” He opened his mouth to say something else, but then angled his head to the side. There was a distant shouting from the direction of the road and you could faintly hear Tommy’s voice among the noise. Joel took a deep breath and his warm eyes met yours. “Alright, I better go before he does somethin’ stupid again. I’ll meet you tonight after guitar practice with Ellie.”

“Don’t be late again or I won’t let you in this time,” you said sweetly and a smirk danced on his lips.

“You’re annoyin’, you know that?” Joel leaned in and gave you a quick kiss on the lips, and then a lingering one on your forehead. “I’ll be on time, promise.”

You smiled and pushed his chest gently, letting him know that he should get back to his brother. He laughed – this actual rare and heartfelt laugh of his, which reminded you yet again how much you loved him – and took a couple of steps back.

“I’m holding you to it, handsome. Now go.”

Joel started to turn around, but then came to a sudden stop as soon as he heard you. It came out a bit awkward because he was mid-step and his feet kind of tangled up together, making him stumble before he managed to catch his balance.

You snorted and tilted your head to the side to peer at him, but his face was unreadable, almost blank. Like that rare and genuine laugh from earlier wiped all the emotions out of him.

“Hey. You okay?” you asked with a playful smile, taking in his expression. Joel looked over at you but didn’t answer, and you raised your eyebrows. “Joel?”

He parted his lips, like he wanted to say something, but no sound came out.

Something wasn’t right. His sudden silence wasn’t anything new – one of Joel’s main traits was being untalkative, though it got better since you two started dating, so you were used to it. But this was different. In his eyes there was a look of… you honestly couldn’t tell if it was awe or hurt. But you’ve never seen an expression like this on his face before.

He still didn’t say anything. You started feeling uneasy, but tried to play it off.

“Or… I could swing by Ellie’s before you two finish and–”

“I gotta go,” Joel muttered suddenly. “I’ll… see you later.”

He turned to the exit, but you quickly went around him and blocked his way with a frown. “Hey, hey, hey, wait. I’m serious now, are you okay?”

Joel glanced at you again, but then averted his eyes almost immediately. You gave him a weird look when he turned his head, as if looking for someone to get him out of here, but then a grin spread across your face when you noticed…

“Is this… Are you blushing?” you asked quietly. Joel winced and your smile got even wider. “You are! Does that–”

“I really gotta go, dar–” he stopped himself and patted your arm in a slapdash manner, not meeting your eyes. “I’ll see you later, alrigh’?”

Before you had a chance to ask or stop him, he walked away quickly, leaving you behind.

Your shoulders slumped and the smile disappeared from your face.

It wasn’t supposed to go like this.

*****

He did not see you later.

In fact, you didn’t have a chance to talk to him at all that day.

Once you finished your shift, you went looking for him but Joel wasn’t at the construction site, nor could you find him anywhere in town. You tried asking Tommy and Ellie about his whereabouts, but while his brother was as clueless as you, the teen seemed suspiciously quiet, and the second you took your eyes off her, she disappeared as well.

He didn’t come to your house that evening, and as it turned out, didn’t have guitar practice with Ellie, either. You felt a little hurt by the sudden disappearance, but ultimately decided against going to his house and invading his space when he clearly needed it.

It wasn’t until the next day that you saw the man again, but you never got a chance to ask him about what happened.

Joel came unannounced to your house and – literally and figuratively – swept you off your feet, acting a little softer and more… well, handsy than usual, but still in his normal Joel-like fashion, as if nothing ever happened. He did apologize for disappearing but it also seemed like he was trying really hard to avoid talking about yesterday altogether. So eventually you let it go.

The only explanation you could come up with was that you scared him off. Maybe it was too soon, maybe he just wasn’t okay with it – whatever the reason, it was evident he didn’t want you to bring it up.

So you decided to respect his boundaries and let the topic go. At least for now.

*****

Almost a week has passed, and you didn’t call him that again.

And fuck, if Joel wasn’t dying to hear that word from you just once more.

What he felt in that millisecond in the stables was so sudden and new – this weird, fluttery feeling in his stomach when you called him ‘handsome’ – that he honestly was at a loss how to react. Yes, he panicked (he wasn’t proud of that) and then when you pointed out the traitorous blush on his cheeks… it overwhelmed him.

Avoiding you for the rest of the day was a cowardly thing to do, but he needed some time to think about his next move before he could face you again.

He screwed up, that much was obvious. Joel didn’t know how to fix it, but he did have an idea how to make you feel comfortable enough to maybe do it again. A chance for him to react accordingly this time.

So since then, he made sure to show and tell you more often how important you were to him and how much he loved you, even though he was dying of cringe at times. His efforts were rewarding, of course – your every smile, every look in his direction was considered a win and a blessing in itself – and it seemed you forgot about his freak-out from the other day.

But you didn’t try it again.

And Joel didn’t know what to do. He’d never ask anyone for advice (God forbid Tommy ever finds out how big of a deal it was to his brother), and talking it out with you seemed like the most unattainable and impossible idea in the world.

You continued calling him by his name – and he couldn’t exactly complain when his name sounded so fucking perfect in your voice – but hell if Joel didn’t wish you try something else.

It didn’t even need to be this ‘handsome’ one you used. Any stupid nickname you come up with, he’d revel in it and this time wouldn’t chicken out.

Jesus, he had it bad. It was almost pathetic.

It wasn’t a life-changing, world-moving issue, though, and Joel wasn’t spending every waking moment thinking about shit like that. There was still work needed to be done in Jackson, he and you still had your own lifes, and… days passed.

It was just over a week later, when Joel came back home from a late-night job to find you asleep in his living room, that he thought about it again.

His heart swelled with adoration when he saw your form curled up on the couch. You must’ve been waiting for his return, but neither of you expected his work to take this long.

Joel bent over and put one arm under your knees and the other wrapped around your body, grunting at the pain in his back. You inhaled sharply when he picked you up, grumbling something incoherent.

“Shh, babygirl, it’s me,” he whispered soothingly, cradling you against his chest. “I’ll put you in bed. Or do you want to go back home?”

You made a noise of disagreement and breathed him in deeply, not opening your eyes.

“You’re late,” you slurred instead of answering him, nuzzling into his chest. Joel sighed tiredly.

“I know, baby, I’m sorry,” he whispered back. “The guys needed more help at the construction site.”

“Alright,” you mumbled again. “M’just glad you’re home now, honey.”

Joel’s feet stopped moving – gradually this time, not putting you at risk of being dropped – and he took a deep breath to tether himself before continuing his way to the bedroom.

You were asleep, he told himself while he was laying you down. It would be wrong to wake you and talk about it now. It could wait. He could wait.

Joel paused, then crouched at the head of the bed where he put you down, and delicately brushed some hair out of your forehead. His face was stoic, though those thoughts raged on like a hurricane inside his mind.

He had no idea how to do this. How to talk about this.

But he knew two things – he knew that his heart belonged to you, and that he didn’t want to settle for those pet names you accidentally muttered when half-awake, all because he was too much of a coward to admit what he wanted.

“Darlin’?”

“Hm?” you hummed, snuggling into his pillow.

Joel’s heart was beating so damn loud, he thought it was about to jump out of his chest. He took a grounding breath, brushing his knuckles against your cheek softly.

“Say that again,” he asked quietly in a raspy voice.

You made a face, keeping your eyes closed.

“I didn’t say anything.”

Joel swallowed hard and he was so nervous, he had to remind himself to unclench his jaw not to break all of his teeth.

Fucking Christ, he could take on the swarm of infected any day without losing his cool, so why was admitting stuff like this so damn difficult?

“Not now. Before. The…” he cleared his throat with embarrassment. His tongue felt like it was made of lead, and his face like it was shoved into a campfire, “pet name.”

That word finally got your attention. In a blink of an eye you were wide awake and lifted yourself on your elbows, rubbing your eyes. Joel almost regretted having said anything.

“Pet name?” you repeated, and then a shy, uncertain smile crept over your face. “Oh… I thought you said you didn’t like it.”

Don’t run, don’t you dare run now…

“I never said that,” he grumbled and furrowed his eyebrows, angry at himself that he made such a big deal out of it, that he had to talk about it now, a whole week later. You winced sheepishly.

“Well… Yeah, you didn’t, but the last time…” You sat up straight on the bed, rubbing your eyes again like you wanted to make sure you were entirely awake and focused for this conversation – which made Joel wishing even more that he had kept his mouth shut. “You ran off and I thought… I dunno, that…”

You shrugged, but you didn’t need to finish, for he understood how it must’ve looked.

Joel sighed heavily and put his forehead on your knee with fatigue. He felt your hands smoothing the shirt on his shoulders and back, and once again wondered what he did to ever deserve you.

“What do you say we don’t talk ‘bout this?” he proposed softly, feeling like a goddamn fool now. “Just… It felt nice. Good. And I want you to do it again… sometimes.”

“I want to talk about it, though.” You cupped his cheeks and lifted his head to look him in the eyes. A thought ran briefly through Joel’s mind about how fitting it was – he on his knees, looking up at you like the miracle you were. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable, Joel. I just don’t understand why you didn’t tell me.”

“What do you think?” he whispered, looking away, though your hands kept his head in place. He raised one of his own to cover your fingers with his, keeping it there. “It’s… goddammit,” he swore and closed his eyes, squeezing your hand faintly. “It’s all just kinda new for me, too,” he said at last. “As dumb as it sounds.”

You swiped your thumbs over his cheekbones. “It’s not dumb.” He didn’t say anything, and after a couple of seconds you sighed. “Okay, we don’t have to discuss it if you don’t want to. Just… maybe try to give me a sign next time,” you offered gently. “I don’t always know what’s going on in that pretty head of yours.”

You were trying to lighten the atmosphere, bless your kind heart, and the corner of his lips tugged upwards despite the turmoil in his heart.

“Darlin’, that’s what I’ve been tryin’ to do for the past week. I’m not good at talkin’ but I… shit, I don’t know, I thought that if I start callin’ you like that more, it’ll… prompt you to do the same, I guess.”

At that, your hands slid off his cheeks and your face turned blank.

“Oh,” you breathed. Joel lifted his eyebrows in question and you added hurriedly: “I thought you were doing this to… I don’t know, let me know that you feel more comfortable calling me that than getting called…”

It was Joel’s turn to look at you blankly.

“Are you fuckin’ kiddin’ me?” he whispered with disbelief clear in his voice. “I tried to somehow show you that it’s fine. Do you…” he paused when you slowly started to giggle, which soon turned into a fit of laughter at the tone of his voice. “Do you have any idea how embarrassin’ it was for me at times? And not once–”

He tried to sound accusatory, but your bright smile was too contagious and soon Joel was grinning, too. He covered the bottom part of his face with his hand, trying to regain his composure, and shook his head while muttering under his breath.

Then he felt your hands on both sides of his head again when you leaned forward and, still with that big, gorgeous smile of yours, started peppering his face in kisses. He tried to swat you away but it didn’t take long before he gave in to his fate.

After a couple of seconds of this sweet torture, you pulled back a little, leaving the tingly feeling of your lips all over his face.

“So, just to make sure. I can call you that?” you asked semi-shyly, though there was a mischievous glimmer in your eye, which made Joel smirk lopsidedly.

“Already told you, beautiful,” he murmured in a low voice, swiping his thumb across your cheekbone lovingly. “But nothin’ over-the-top, alright?”

“Alright,” you agreed, just as quietly, and then leaned in to kiss him lightly.

The suffocating coils of embarrassment in his stomach disappeared the moment you touched him. Joel decided that if suffering through those moments of vulnerability would end up with you in his arms and his lips on yours, he was able to survive them.

“Now come to bed, handsome,” you whispered against his mouth with a smile. Your voice had that downright sinful tone to it, which you knew was driving him insane. “I got cold waiting for you all alone.”

Little minx.

He gave you a smirk before crawling on top of you and scooping you in his arms. The sound of your laugh filled the room as he rolled both of you over, pulling you closer and onto his chest.

“Whatever you wish, sweetheart.”

#joel miller x reader #the last of us #joel miller #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #the last of us fanfiction #joel tlou #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #tlou hbo

4K notes · View notes

aurorawritestoescape · 23 days

Text

FEED ME || Joel Miller x f!reader || 2,3k

Summary: Joel is hungry but not for dinner

Tw: 18+ mdni, smut, pwp, food play, object insertion, m/f!oral, swearing, cum eating, Joel is a horny menace, fingering, a bit of degradation, Joel can pick up reader, reader wears a dress, has hair that can be pulled

A/n: hugs and smooches to @iamasaddie for the gif🌸

MASTERLIST

*****

“What are we making?”

You jump hearing Joel’s gruff voice right at your ear.

“Joel! I’m holding a knife!” you exclaim, pressing your free hand to your chest. Your heart is booming under your palm as you are silently cursing your sneaky husband.

He hugs you from behind, caging you against the counter, and you breathe out your tension, feeling his warm body pressed to your back.

“What are you cooking, baby?” His scruff is rubbing your shoulder as he’s pushing the fabric of your home dress out of his way and kisses the spot at the crease of your neck.

You smile already melting from this cute gesture but don’t turn around. You focus back on the task at hand - chopping a pepper.

“Salad,” you reply.

He hums and you feel his hands glide from your waist down to your sides. While you’re working the knife, trying not to cut your finger off, he bunches up the skirt of your dress and his warm palms grab your hips.

“Nah-ah,” you slither out of his embrace and step to the sink. “I’m hungry, Joel,” you say, feeling a pang of guilt for refusing him but nonetheless enjoying the way he glares at you under his brows, hands still braced on the counter. He looks so sexy like this.

“You can wait until after the dinner, right?”

You give him a sweet smile before turning on the water. You grab a cucumber out of a big bowl and start washing it. Joel’s intent stare is focused on you while your hands are gliding around the vegetable. You forget about your audience for a second doing a thorough job cleaning the cucumber until it squeaks under your palms. Suddenly Joel curses under his breath and storms out of the room.

You furrow your brows, confused by his behavior and hoping that you haven’t offended him. But Joel is caring and always attentive to your needs, even when he’s thinking with his perfect cock.

So you dry the cucumber and return to your chopping board.

Joel doesn’t sneak up on you this time but you still jump when you hear him shout, “DON’T! Don’t cut it!”

You freeze clutching the knife in your hand, but now it’s trembling with rage rather than with fear like before.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?!” You shrill and turn around before throwing the knife on the counter.

Joel walks to one of the cupboards, opens it and after a few seconds of consideration takes something out.

Your eyes are wide and you hope the heat of your fiery glower can burn him. It seems that he feels it, judging by the way he inches towards you with a little apologetic smile, holding out a protein bar.

“Sorry for scaring you, baby,” he coos, stepping up to you, “Here. Have a snack.”

“I don’t want a fucking snack, Joel,” you grumble looking up at the man from behind your eyebrows, “From now on you’re banned from the kitchen when I’m cooking, you hear me?

“Yeah, yeah. But after today, ‘k?” He opens the protein bar and brings it to your lips. You don’t eat it, standing immovable in front of him, still throwing daggers at his handsome face.

“C’mon, sweetheart. I really want you.” He puts the bar on the counter and his hands start gently rubbing your arms, moving up and down. He pecks your cheek, the other one, plants a kiss on your nose and forehead. His moustache tickles you and you giggle trying to dodge the kisses he’s peppering all over your face.

With your palms on his broad chest, you give up and let him embrace you. He presses his hips to yours and you feel him hard against your mound.

You whimper, blaming your weak pussy for the way you crumble only after sensing the shape of his stiff cock.

Joel licks his lips and leans down to give you a heady kiss, passionate but soft. His hands are touching you everywhere - kneading your breasts, squeezing your ass cheeks, running through your hair and pulling on it lightly.

Soon you’re moaning into his mouth, soaking your panties, and buck your hips into his.

“Oh, what is it? Thought you were hungry, baby. Guess your slutty pussy wants to swallow my cock more, huh?”

You whine nuzzling his neck while a fire starts burning inside your core. Dinner be damned, you want to be filled with his cock.

“That’s what I thought,” he smirks, pushes the board and the knife to the side and lifts you, setting you on the counter.

In a second your panties are discarded on the floor and Joel is kneeling next to them.

He grabs your ankle and pushes your leg up, placing one foot on the counter. Your glistening pussy blooms for him and you bite your lip when cold air hits your heated folds.

Not waiting for an invitation, Joel latches onto your clit and you mewl with pleasure, eyes shut, hands pulling on his hair. His hot tongue is swirling eights against your bud while his thick fingers prod your wet hole before he pushes them in and starts pumping in and out. He curves them just right and you come undone, clit twitching against his tongue, pussy clenching on his digits.

Joel pulls them out and licks them clean while you’re panting, mind and vision hazy after a bright orgasm.

Joel gets up and while you’re reveling in the post orgasmic euphoria you don’t notice his hand sneaking behind you.

Something cold touches your leg and you open your eyes seeing Joel slide a tip of the cucumber up and down your inner thigh.

"Joel, what are you doing?" you giggle nervously trying to close your legs.

"Shh... l've got an idea," he says, holding your legs open for him with his big hands on your inner thighs. "All your fault, sweetheart. When you were washing it...Damn it. The way your hands glided over this thing. My dick loved it."

"Ehm,” is the only thing you can say. You're surprised and even more so when he takes out a condom out of his pocket. You haven't used one in a while with you being on the pill and him being the biggest fan of creampies.

"I can, right, baby?" He asks before opening the package with his teeth and pulling the condom out.

"Do you... what do you..?" You mumble trying to gather your thoughts after the recent orgasm and wrap your head around whatever his intention is.

Your jaw drops when you watch him put the condom on the long thick vegetable like it's some weird sex ed class and he says,

"Gonna fuck you with this cucumber, 'k?"

“But Joel…it’s big,” you mewl, eyeing the thing and trying to imagine it in your pussy.

“My cock is big, baby, and you take it so well. And I’ll get you ready, sweetheart, don’t worry.”

You look at the cucumber, then into Joel’s pleading eyes and feel your pussy get curious and start tingling again at the promise of something long and thick stuffed inside it.

You nod and Joel beams at you and takes you in his arms.

“Let’s get you to the bed.”

***

A few moments later you’re lying on your bed, completely naked, with a couple of pillows stuffed under your back, so you could see and control what’s about to happen to your pussy.

Joel’s sitting on his heels between your legs, spotting a giant tent in his boxers but he doesn’t do anything about it. His hand is gripping your knee, and he’s holding a bottle of lube in the other, warming it up. The cucumber is on the bed next to your hip, looking thicker and longer than Joel’s cock. And Joel’s cock is huge. You swallow loudly and Joel notices your tension.

“Breathe, baby,” Joel says, giving you a warm smile. “I’ll be careful,” he murmurs and you know he will. Something warm and fuzzy moves in your stomach and you whisper back, “I trust you.”

His eyes are blown with lust, lips glistening and you feel you can come just from an image of him being so thirsty for you.

His fingers trail from your knee to your pussy until he brings them to your clit and begins gently stroking it.

Joel puts the lube on the bed and slowly pushes three fingers into your hole, palm up. They move in and out easily but apparently it’s not enough.

“Play with your tits, sweetheart. C’mon,”

He doesn’t have to repeat it, in a second you’re kneading your breasts, twitching your hardened nipples and your pussy clenches as a new wave of arousal ripples through your body. You moan and rock your hips desperate for more stimulation.

“Joel, stick it in me already!”

He chuckles as his little finger joins the other three inside your pussy.

“Attagirl. Ready?”

You nod and open your thighs wider. Joel's digits leave your stretched hole and he gets the unconventional sex toy ready, squirting some lube on it and spreading it with his fingers. Caressing your bud with one hand, he brings the cucumber to your crying hole and nudges it with the tip.

You breathe in sharply feeling something cold and hard at the softest and warmest place of your body.

You whimper when he slides the firm vegetable between your folds and then starts slowly pushing it in your wet entrance. The stretch makes your muscles tense but Joel swirls your clit between his fingers and the dull pain subsides almost instantly.

“Tell me and I’ll stop,” he says, love and affection coating his voice.

Joel doesn’t tear his eyes from the sight of him feeding this huge cucumber to your pussy. He inserts a few inches of the stiff vegetable in and pulls it out almost to the end and then pushes it in again, deeper now.

He repeats these actions a few times and you whimper, clutching the sheets with your fingers as the cucumber’s bumps are deliciously massaging your walls.

“Damn it, baby, I wanna be this thing so fucking much right now,” Joel groans and grips your thigh harder.

“Yeah?” you breathe out, fluttering your eyes shut when you feel the tip rub against your soft spot.

You love when Joel's cock ruins your little cunt but you’re experiencing such an unusual novice sensation at this moment that you don’t want it to leave your pussy yet.

“Don’t stop, Joel. Please,” You plead as your cunt clenches around the vegetable.

“Fuck, look at it.”

His hand leaves the cucumber and when your walls contract, your cunt sucks it deeper on its own. You’re both mesmerized, eyes half lidded and hazy, mouths slightly opened, watching the cucumber stick out of your hungry hole.

“She’s swallowing it on her own. Greedy little pussy. You’re really enjoying it, huh?”

You nod eagerly and he smiles.

“That’s my girl.”

“Joel?” You call when he gets a hold of the cucumber again. “Come here. Give me your cock.”

You motion to the spot next to you on the bed.

“But don’t stop fucking me with it,” you hastily add, earning a chuckle from Joel.

“At this rate you won’t need me anymore,” he complains, pouting his lips but breathing into a grin.

“Never, I love the taste of your cock too much.”

Joel gently pulls the cucumber out of your pussy and gets closer to your face.

He stands on his knees and pulls his cock out. It’s painfully hard, bobbing over your face and dripping precum everywhere.

“Oh, Joel, give it.” You lick your lips and lift yourself on your elbows.

Your mouth reaches his fat head and you lick and suck it, drinking his salty precum. His desperate moan makes you feel slightly guilty for not offering to blow him earlier.

Joel leans down a little and starts fucking you with the cucumber again. You take his length deeper in your mouth and suck on his stiff cock caressing the underside with your tongue. His soft lower belly rubs against your forehead while he’s thrusting the vegetable in and out with faster strokes. You’re a complete mess, the mixture of lube and your slick sliding down to your asshole and soaking the bedding under you.

“Fuck…won’t last, sweetheart. Your mouth is killing me…damn, wish you could see your pussy, baby…you’re talking it so fucking well…my perfect girl.”

You gasp around his cock when he leans lower and takes your throbbing clit between his lips again. He’s sloppily licking your folds, sucking on your sensitive bud and you feel the warmth of your upcoming climax turn into scorching heat. He pushes the cucumber in and out once, twice and you explode, crying and whimpering, mouth full of his cock.

Apparently Joel was waiting just for that.

He finally erupts into your throat with a loud groan and you’re swallowing his warm cum as your back arches, pussy clumps on the stiffness inside you and fireworks burst in your mind.

You drink him to the last drop, and his mouth doesn’t leave your pussy either, he’s rubbing your clit with the flat of his tongue until you push him away, being overstimulated.

You part from his softening cock and plop your back on the bed catching your breath. Joel slowly pulls the cucumber out of your soaked hole and falls next to you panting heavily.

“Thank you for letting me do this, baby,” he coos before giving you a gentle kiss. Then he takes the glistening condom off, throws it on the bed and hands you the cucumber. “Here’s your dinner back,” he chuckles and you giggle with him.

“No way, Joel. First of all, we’re ordering in tonight and second,” you press the cucumber to your chest, making heart eyes at it, “I’m not eating him.”

“Him?”

“Yep. He’s living with us now,” you say trying to contain your laughter, “I’m gonna call him Dave.”

“Little slut,” Joel growls, pins you to the bed and shuts you up with a kiss.

*****

Thank you for reading!🌸

Comments and reblogs will make me very happy and help to spread my work!💖

Masterlist

Tag list: @milla-frenchy @harriedandharassed @missannfairy @iamasaddie @nervousmumbling @bbyanarchist @stevie75 @puduvallee @auteurdelabre @mountainsandmayhem @senoratess @flamingochick55 @theoraekenslover

#pedro pascal #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #pedro pascal characters #joel miller x you #the last of us #joel miller tlou #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller fan fiction #pedro pascal smut #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfic #joel miller the last of us

724 notes · View notes

toxicanonymity · 1 year

Text

Joel Miller Masterlist - NSFW

And other Pedro characters

Version 4/5/24 (new: free use masterlist)

Blog FAQ (updated 4/15/24)

⚠️ I do not give permission for any of my work to be copied, reposted*, translated, made into bots, put into AI, etc. *reblogging is encouraged, using the 🔁 in the bottom right corner.

A reblog of this post will not stay up-to-date. Follow @toxicfics if you want notifs and @toxicrecs for fic recs. If you can't decide where to start, Buzzfeed quizzes are at the bottom 😅

18+ joel x f!reader unless otherwise noted. Darkness ratings (D - Darkish to Dark, DD - Extra Dark, DDD - ultra dark) are subjective and don't automatically mean it has dubcon (DC) or noncon (NC). The NC I write is physically enjoyed by reader. DC is often situations that diminish the ability to truly consent. Like drugs, captivity, or power imbalance, but in many DC fics, reader is willing or even enthusiastic.

🍒 innocent reader | 💤 somnophilia | 👴/🧔‍♂️ explicit age gap

MASTERLISTS - AUs, Collections, and Series

Night walks (AU) 👴 D, DC (drugs). hot, older pothead neighbor who talks dirty.

Raider Joel DD. NC (at first, via implicit threat), DC (stockholm syndrome). This is a big AU with lots of lore and interaction.

Silence can never be bought (dbf, AU)👴⭐ You catch him in a compromising position.

Left in Lincoln (dbf x virgin) 👴🍒 DD Your dads trust him to look in on you while they're gone.

Stepdad 🧔‍♂️D You catch him perving on your insta and start toying with him. You seduce him.

Slasher Joel DD DC - You're DTF but end up fcking for your life when you offend him.

Vampire Joel DC - he's been waiting for you for centuries and can't let you go once he finds you.

The Raid DC - Javi and Steve find you on a drug raid and take you under their wing, so to speak.

Speakeasy (Collection, no plot) - Exhibitionist one shots and drabbles.

Thighs out (bf's dad) - Your bf strays and his hot, slutty dad makes you feel better, much better.

Brotherly Sharing - Several pairs of miller bros. including uncle tommy & leopard print.

✨Free Use - D, DC, 💤 👫

for survival (2003)

For Survival (1.4k) - Joel, a stranger, saves your life, you fuck during evacuation.

For Survival 2 (1.4k) - fucking in your sleeping bag trying to be silent.

dark mode!Joel ULTRA dark - DDD, 👫

Dark mode (knife)You activate Joel's dark mode for your own enjoyment.

Clicking (horny! joel -> dark mode) He won't stop when a clicker appears. You try to punish him.

just the tip D, DC (power imbalance) 🧔‍♂️🍒

Just the tip 🍒 he coaxes you into full piv.

surveillance (imagine) he watches you.

Just the tip (really) you've been trying not to fuck him and this time it's really just the tip.

VIRGINS

Aches, thoughts, and needs 👴🍒 outbreak

Night Talks 🧔‍♂️🍒 D, DC best friend's dad

Patrol - pt. 1; virgin patrol 👴🍒 DD, DC

Virgin sex worker (v loss) D 🍒

Ready for her ( part of Miller Bros)

See also, Lincoln series and Just the Tip above.

⬇️ ONE SHOTS, miniseries, misc⬇️

Post-outbreak

you almost die then get used D, NC, 👫

Possessive cum play D, 👫

Secret breeder!Joel Refuses to pull out D, 👫

Jealous of you/Tess (degradation) D, DC mean

Bone broth (consensual noncon) 👫

non-con while you sleep D, NC 💤

movie night (in public) 👫 Under a blanket

Caught DDD very mean Joel, ✨At the table

Lazaretto (NC. sex pollen)👴, PART 2, DC

caught masturbating (300) D

the old fashioned way (1k) D He breeds you

Pre/Non-oubreak/AUs

pawn shop (GILF Joel) ��D

canopy, pt 2 (caught) ��🧔‍♂️ dbf in your old bed

Fucking Joel at your dad's house dbf

Breeding couple ; Pregnant , 👫

in the ass like a good girl anal drabble

Window (peeping tom) pt.2 date next door D

caught Drinking ( DDDNE) 🧔‍♂️DDD, NC sarah's friend is punished

sleeping Beauty 👴💤, 👫 CNC.

that's the spot (masseur!Joel)

gas station skeeze (300) 👴

packing: butcher!Joel DD, DC

personal trainer , part 2 D, DC

daddy Joel ��🧔‍♂️, a day in the filth

miniseries: jalbird - cellmate's nephew

dark nurse!Joel (sex pollen imagines)

✨locket - DC best friends dad x dark! reader

HCs, imagines, other

Free Use / Objectification HCs - you can put Joel in different modes for your enjoyment.

Your Dirty Little Mouth - talking dirty in Spanish in public to get Joel all riled up. Reader is not a native Spanish speaker.

Therapist (Dr. Rock), pt 2 D - meta (x writer)

Brothel Reality Show

Multi-Joel Art & Misc

Lmk if yours is missing, ✨section in progress✨

Joelkémon cards by @gasolinerainbowpuddles

JOELS AS CATS by @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog

Joel's as cats pt. 2 not-a-unique-snowflake-blog

Dick HCs - size, appearance, and more

random hot things from HBO canon

Joelkémon astrology by @wannab-urs

Mood board of joels by @milla-frenchy

joels as texts by @iamasaddie

Buzzfeed Quizzes

by @missannfairy & @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog

Which Joel are you most compatible with?

Which Joel are you?

Which Joel to spend the holidays with?

Compatability: Valentine's Edition

Other pedro characters

Javi G. - Watch you watch him fuck his wife. Nick watches. You're Javi's wife.

Ezra - Sleep time: pt. one (250), two 💤(850) D You bait Ezra pt.3 Ezra strikes back. DC

Javi P.

hunt and peck (2.7k) 6/30

THE RAID ongoing series

#joel miller x reader #joel miller #joel miller smut #toxicanonymity ☠️#joel miller masterlist #pedro pascal masterlist

5K notes · View notes

beefrobeefcal · 2 months

Text

the BEEF | #1: Joel Miller

Summary: no-outbreak AU, Joel has a headache and that headache wants his attention. [based on a prompt THOT up in collaboration with @strang3lov3]

Pairing: Joel Miller x F!Reader | Rating: Explicit 18+ (MDNI) | Word Count: 3,833

Content Warning: Smutty smutty smut smut, angry fools who want to play hide the sausage, angry joel, shovel violence against a truck, monster cock, age gap (joel is in his 50's, reader is younger), p in the v (unwrapped), rough dresser sex,

Author's Notes: welcome to the BEEF. Each P-boy has a thorn in their side that has to be dealt with. Thank you to @covetyou for inspiring the idea, and thank you @neverwheremoonchild, @strang3lov3, @rebel-held & @bitchesuntitled for their brains and eyes.

and thank you to every friendo in the Bistro - it's all for you, babies.

Joel Miller was your street’s cranky asshole. No one dared throw a party or hold a garage sale without letting him know first. No one dared let their grass get over a certain length and the whole neighbourhood breathed a sigh of relief when he would go out of a town and not see the kids scribble with chalk on the sidewalks in the summer. He never called the cops; no, instead he showed up and berated whoever was hosting an event or engaging in an activity he found offensive. And he was intimidating. He wasn’t the tallest, but he was built like a brick shithouse. You’d lived on the block for almost nine years, and in that time, Joel had gone from being a broad, sturdy single father to a single, empty nester who lived off HungryMan frozen meals. He was a big man with linebacker shoulders and a meaty chest stacked on top of a boulderous belly. His plaid button up shirts always looked like they were holding on for dear life to avoid his temper.

And you were utterly in love with him.

Before the most recent snowfall, you’d been in your room on your bed with the window open a crack to let in some fresh air. Right below your window was Joel’s front porch, and as soon as you heard his door fly open, you grabbed your vibrator and listened.

“Get off my lawn!”, you heard him bellow at who ever had dared to approach his house.

You smiled to yourself and turned on your purple silicon friend and shoved it in your underwear.

As Joel berated the hapless victim of his temper, you nudged yourself closer to the edge. As you did, you cared less about the volume of your cries and let your noises out at top volume. By the time you came, Joel was standing on his porch with his mouth agape, staring at your bedroom window and the offending party walked away with a look of disgust.

*****

Shit. Shit shit shit shit shit.

You watched as your snow shovel slipped out of your hands and hit your Joel’s truck. The one with the vanity plate ‘SM 9000’ that you had no clue what it meant. You could only sit back and watch as it fell and gouged in the paint job on Joel’s 1989 Dodge Ram pickup, your panties grew damp as you heard his front door open and slam against his house.

You turned around, raising your hands, trying to look like you were de-escalating the situation. “Joel, I-“

“The fuck’re you think you’re doin’?!”, he bellowed, stomping towards you.

As he yelled and flew into a tantrum over your shovel’s sins, you couldn’t help the stupid, lovesick half grin blooming on your face.

“… and you ain’t got no respect for no one’s property and…”, he stopped, took a breath, and looked you over, face twisting in a confused rage as he tried to figure out why you were looking at him as if he were a can of tuna and you were a cat watching him being pulled open ever so gently.

“The fuck is wrong with you?!”, he yelled, stepping forward, trying to scare you to no avail. He huffed and stomped his foot, trying to snap you out of whatever trance you were in.

You sighed and tilted your head, loving the attention he was finally bestowing on you, not caring that your reaction was essentially dumping gasoline on a house fire.

“Fuckin’ disrespectful shit…”, he snarled as he grabbed your arm and dragged you towards his house.

“Joel? What’re you doing? Where we going?”, you asked with a big dumb grin on your face then wincing at the harsh grip he had on your elbow. Your boots slipped and skidded on the icy walkway and you tripped heading up the stairs.

“Fuckin’ clumsy dumbass…”, he grumbled, shoving you through his front door and slamming it behind you both.

You looked around his entry way, noting the ugly wallpaper and the stale cigarette smell lingering. You crinkled your nose, and he turned around, his frown deepening into a scowl.

“Boots off!”, he barked, harshly motioning to your feet.

You didn’t miss a beat and toed them off quickly, kicking them into the wall. His jaw clenched as he watched the dirty snow clumps slide slowly down, leaving wet patches on his yellow-turned-brown floral wallpaper.

His eyes snapped up to yours, expecting an apologetic look. Instead, he was met with…

“Why the fuck you lookin’ at me like a love sick puppy?”

Joel was enraged. You didn’t run away or beg for forgiveness. No. You stood in his entry way, kicking your boots and making a mess, looking like he was David Cassidy or Patrick Swayze. You smiled back softly and that was the last straw for him.

“WHAT IN THE FRESH HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU?!”

You could have cum right there. Joel Miller was yelling right in your face. You’d gotten off by listening to him lose his shit at anyone trying to fundraiser or collect donations who had dared knock on his door but having a front row seat to a live performance was better than you could have ever imagined.

Joel watched your lips part and your brows twitch as they furrowed and your head tilt back slightly. He heard your breath hitch between his furious growling breaths, and his eyes slid down your parka-clad frame and he swore he saw your thighs clench.

His eyes went wide as he realized the effect he was having on you.

“You fuckin’ dirty little shit…”

The whimper he received in response made his cock twitch in his WalMart Levi’s. He sucked in a harsh breath and swallowed hard. He hadn’t had a woman look at him like that since he went to the strip club with his brother for his bachelor party, and he knew she was looking for a hefty tip. But you – the only thing he could think of is that you were trying to find a way to get out of paying for the damage your shovel caused. There was no waythat you were actually interested in him in that way. No. No woman had wanted to fuck him since before his daughter, Sarah, had been in junior high. He was a fat old asshole and you… you weren’t.

“Joel…”

Your soft voice pulled him back and the frown he carried all but left his face, being replaced with eyebrows to his hairline and his mouth open in confusion and shock.

“Joel, I… I’m sorry about your truck.”

You grabbed the zipper to your parka and pulled down, opening it to reveal your great aunt’s knitted sweater with a loon on it. Joel’s widened eyes swept over you and his brows furrowed.

“The hell you up to?”, he croaked, trying to sound intimidating.

“It’s warm in here”, you respond, tossing your parka on to, but missing completely, the stair banister.

His mind was racing. You actually seemed to be coming on to him as you stepped closer in your mismatched socks. You looked up at him through your lashes while your hands slowly slid up your legging-clad thighs and up to the hem of your sweater. He watched as you pulled it over your head slowly, getting it stuck for a moment, revealing a worn out white t-shirt with a faded image of a marshmallow peep and the slogan ‘Holla At My Peeps!’. He took another step back and you tossed your sweater at him, and he stumbled back, falling onto his recliner.

“Jesus, woman!”, he hollered, ripping your sweater off his head just in time to see you standing above him.

“You know how hot you are?”, you asked, leaning forward over him.

He froze. He must be dead. Or asleep. Or maybe he slipped when he stormed out the door to yell at you and hit his head. Or maybe he was drunk. Maybe he took a NyQuil tablet instead of the Omega 3-6-9 fish oil pills.

“The hell is wrong with you?”, he sputtered out, looking at you wide-eyed.

You didn’t answer. You only leaned forward, nudging your nose against his and letting out a breathy giggle. He tried to speak again, but his words got lost in the high pitch grunt he let out when your knee came up and nestled in between his thighs, pushing against the considerable bulge that had developed.

His hand involuntarily gripped your wrist that was supported on his arm rest, and he sucked in a deep breath.

“I know exactly what you need, Joel Miller.”, you cooed, tongue jutting out and licking your teeth, trying to sound seductive. “You need a good fuck.”

His mouth hung open in shock. You grinned wildly and kissed the tip of his nose before nipping at his bottom lip and tugging it between your teeth.

Joel let out a groan and closed his eyes, the hand on your wrist moving to your t-shirt’s hem and slipped underneath it. You nudged your knee against his crotch again and kissed him, tasting no-name waffles and burnt coffee.

The kiss seemed to break something in Joel. This wasn’t a dream, or an antihistamine induced hallucination or a concussion - this was real. You, his hot, young, stupid neighbour was crawling onto his lap and shoving your tongue down his throat.

He grunted lowly and pushed you back, looking up at you with dark eyes. You tried moving forward again, but his hand held you back.

A whine emanated from your throat, and he shook his head. “I’m not fucking you-“

You scoffed and he shushed you.

“Oh, hush and lemme finish, you loony shit!”, he huffed. “I was sayin’ that I'm not gonna fuck you in this chair; it barely holds my weight and if you’re gonna be bouncin’ on me, this fuckin’ thing’ll screw the pooch.”

You shrugged your shoulders, irritated. “Okay, fine. Then where?”

“My bed, you nimrod!”, he snapped with a scowl, then grinned. “Got a nice mattress with good lumbar support.”

*****

You had followed Joel to his room and were pleasantly… let down. You weren’t sure what you were expecting, but the beige walls and the picture of a horse above his non-exciting bed were not what you had thought he would have. What surprised you was the essential oil diffuser plugged in on his bedside table, giving the air a fresh lavender smell.

The fact that the rest of his house looked like a rejected concept for an early nineties sitcom and his bedroom looked like a bed and breakfast that had no theme, for some reason, made you want him more. This man and his lack of consistency. You needed him in you now.

Grabbing his arm and turning him around, you pulled him into a desperate kiss; teeth and tongues, fighting for real estate in each other’s mouths.

“Get naked, sugar.”, he grunted as he broke the kiss with a lopsided grin. He unsnapped his shirt, revealing a grey, stained undershirt, its ribbing pulled tight and stretched over his belly while his mouth and surrounding patchy facial hair glistened with your saliva.

While he wasn’t being that polite, he wasn’t being mean. That was a problem. Even with how mundane he’d revealed himself to be, it wasn’t enough. The residual dampness that made your panties stick to your core was a result of him yelling at you out front, and that goodwill your pussy had shown was slowly drying up.

Joel’s hands began to make quick work of his belt and stretch denim jeans, but he noticed you not moving to do the same.

His hand flapped at you in an urging motion, “Make with the no clothes. Can’t fuck you with them on.”

His eyes narrowed as he noted your lack of movement, and he paused. You began to see signs that Joel was getting mad, and your mind flipped through every situation you’d witnessed him lose his shit in. What was it that would set him off quick? You weren’t about to throw a block party in his room, nor were you a religious group knocking at his door early on a Saturday. Then it clicked.

A devious grin broke out slowly on your face as you sat on his Temperpedic mattress and crossed your arms.

“Make me.”

“You indignant little shit…”, he growled, clenching his fist.

A flutter in your lower belly. More.

“Come on. Make me.”

“You fuckin’ tease… Fuck you!” His eyes were filling with fire.

An almost painful need bloomed in your core. More!

“Fuck me yourself, coward.”

He sputtered and guffawed, eyes wide in rage.

“You fuckin’ shit! Bangin’ up my truck and actin’ like a needy Jezabel just to fuckin’ tease me like this!”

You could have cum right there, between the iron grip on your wrist and his loud belittling.

You couldn’t stop the giggle that erupted, and he snarled. He grabbed your hand and yanked you up off the bed. You truly thought his back was bad enough that the effort of getting you up alone would be too much, but he shoved you against his dresser, then slamming his weight into your back. You whined, feeling your pussy clenching on nothing.

“You’re such a shit!”, he grunted, grabbing your elasticized waistband, and yanking your leggings and panties down on one side while your hand went to the other; the two of you awkwardly working towards removing your barrier.

When they were low enough on your legs to step out of, you clumsily did so, then tried to turn around to help Joel. He wasn’t fast enough, swearing under his breath as your hands lifted his belly to access his strained button fly. His mouth was on your neck, sucking and biting like a dog on a window while a steak was being grilled just on the other side.

You pushed his jeans down around his hips and they pooled around his ankles. He kicked them off and bit down on the crux of your neck and shoulder as your hand cupped and felt up his hard cock.

Jesus. Oh fuck.

Joel was hung. Like unreasonably so. You’d had your fair share of men slamming their pork steeples into your wet cunt, but none of them could even hold a candle to the monstrosity that sat heavy and covered in satin in your hand. You planted your hand on his chest and pushed him back, needing to get a peek at what Joel was packing. You immediately looked down, seeing the Wile E. Coyote faux-satin boxers protruding out in an impressive, and frankly intimidating, bulge.

“Oh shit...”, you breathed out, contemplating on whether you truly needed to do any serious sitting for the next week, or if you could maybe just get away with laying down at work.

His hand snapped to your jaw, forcing you to look him in the eye, and he gave you a dark smile, “Showed up to a gun fight with a knife, sugar?”

You didn’t have time to respond because Joel shoved his hand between your legs and harshly began rubbing your clit.

Your eyes fluttered and rolled back. Joel watched, an approving sneer on his face.

“’S fucked up … you like this?”

“uh…. Uh-huh…”

“You’re a lunatic…”

You smiled lazily. “You’re fingering a lunatic… w-what’s that say about you?”

He paused then huffed out, “That I’m fingering a lunatic, you moron.”

You let out a throaty laugh that bleeds into a moan as Joel shoves two thick fingers into your hole, slowly dragging them out before plunging them back in.

“You’re a sick little shit… you seducin’ and teasin’ an old man, an’gettin’ me all wound up… Neighbourhood headache… that’s you. Fuckin’ shit up and walkin’ away with a smile on her dumb face.”

“’M close… don’t…. don’t stop…”

His fingers kept the slow languid pace going as he leaned in and harshly whispered, “Unlike you, sugar, I don’t like to leave people disappointed.”

His eyes never left you, watching your every move. Every involuntary twitch and shudder, every flutter of your eyelids and breath leave your parted lips. He could feel it around his fingers and see it on your face that you were feeling everything intensely and now that he had you like this, he wasn’t going to let you go without making sure you weren’t going to pull this shit again.

Joel was many things, but a man who could let things go was not one of them. He was tired of hearing you cream and cry on whatever silicon thing you were shoving into yourself through your bedroom window as he lost his shit on someone; tired of seeing you make eyes at him while you sat in your front yard as he grumbled at a neighbour for the state of their lawn. He was still furious at you for once letting your hand - your soft, sweet, tender hand - linger on his when handing him his mail that was accidentally delivered to your home, forcing him to sit in his shitty recliner and try to finish with his calloused, rough, and hard hand. He never came.

You were going to pay for that. He’d promised himself that for almost five years and now here you were, on your way to being a muppet with how his hand played in your pussy. Joel’s time had come.

You came, moaning, on his hand as he watched, his fingers still moving in and out of you, and his thumb took up the task of tending to your twitching clit. Your face twisted and you cried out, trying to push his hand away.

Your tongue felt thick in your mouth and a moan seeped out. As you rode the wave, he yanked his hand out and grabbed your arm, throwing you onto the bed.

“Goddammit, you’re such a pretty shit.”, he grumbled, reaching for your ankle, and tugging your ass to the edge of the bed. You tried sitting up on your elbows, but he shoved you back down with his body weight.

His weight. Good god, he felt heavier and better than you ever thought he could as he pressed you down into the mattress.

But he got up off you, trying to wrangle your ankles and pull your exposed pussy to just the right spot to save his back from being strained. You tried sitting up again, wanting to have some sort of control over the situation, but Joel growled and grabbed your hips, and, in an impressive feat, flipped you onto your front all while grumbling about what a pain in the ass you were.

“Can’t even fuckin’ be considerate enough to stay put…”

You heard him spit then grunt, figuring he was priming that fucking meat wagon between his legs, and you let out an impatient huff.

“Knock that shit off!”, he snapped, flicking you on your ass cheek. “You just came, nimrod. You can fuckin’ wait!”

“Yeah… but I wanna cum again!”, you whined out with a smile, trying to not laugh at how irritated he was with you.

“I bet you do… but you’re on my time, and I am a patient man, sugar.”, he crooned lowly, snaking his hand up your back and to your hip. You squirmed a bit, but his hold kept you planted in place, and his other hand held his cock as he nudged it against your opening.

The smile on your face dropped as his huge member pushed in; your mouth opened, and out came a gasp followed by a choked moan.

“That’s it… Jesus Murphy… not even fuckin’ your throat and I got you to shut your mouth…”

Yes, you knew Joel was huge. But it was just an abstract concept up until that moment. Now that he was shoving his massive dick into you, you felt like the universe’s mysteries were now clearly laid out. You knew what religion was right, who shot JFK, how they made the moon landing look real…

Nothing in life would ever surprise you again because you were being split open by this grumpy, fat man. You were being ruined by Joel Miller.

He grunted as he pulled back and then slammed into you.

“Tight little snatch, sugar… takin’ me like a champ.”

You couldn’t respond. Your brain had melted and left your skull empty, and you were unable to do anything but breathe loudly and moan, “S’too big… too big…”

Joel snickered and grunted, snapping his hips and shoving himself deep. You wriggled and squirmed, simultaneously needing him stop and to fuck you harder. Your head began to feel faint, and your core squeezed him, forcing a groan out of him.

He began to snap his hips faster, panting and grunting like the fat kid in gym class being forced to run a mile. You whined and squirmed, trying to get your knees under your body to be able to push back against him, to get him deeper, but he grabbed your calf and bit your leg right above your sock with a growl then groaned, “Stay… stay put… don’t move… jus’lemme… lemme finish…”

You let out a yelp than melted into a moan, throwing yourself into another orgasm. Joel’s thrusts became hurried and more erratic. The high-pitched whine that ripped out of Joel sounded like a dog begging for table scraps as he shot his load into you.

He collapsed onto your back, both of you panting. After what felt like hours but in reality, was only about 30 seconds, Joel had gone quiet. You nudged him, hoping to god he didn’t die from a pussy-induced heart attack. He grunted and struggled to push himself up off you, then flopped on the bed next to you. You rolled over onto your back and looked at him. His cheeks were flushed, and his brows furrowed; his wispy salt and pepper hair stuck to his forehead and his eyes were closed. He was still breathing heavily through his mouth. You smiled, feeling a fulfillment you hadn’t since you’d convinced your parents that it was your sister who broke the CD-ROM drive in the family computer even though it was really you. Cuddling into his, your fingers drew heart shapes in his sweat coated chest hair.

Now that he’d fucked you, you wanted to clear the air as it were, and make sure he wasn’t going to make you pay for any damage to his truck. “So…”

Joel grunted in response, one eye opening and looking at you.

“I was just wondering… what’s your licence plate mean?”

He sighed and closed his eye again. He said the meaning quietly and at first you weren’t sure you heard him right.

“What?”

His cheeks flushed a little harder and he rubbed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, letting out a huff.

“ShagMaster 9000.”

TAGLIST: @theywhowriteandknowthings @toxicanonymity @harriedandharassed @neverwheremoonchild @rebel-held @beee-haw @nevergoingbacknowshine @idolatrybarbie @v4vayha @lalocitos @xdaddysprincessxx @deathsholywaterr @heareball @lyssramscal @wintrwinchestr @nerdieforpedro @southernbe @starkeydaviss @noxturnalpascal @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog@vabeachazn @clawdee @iamasaddie @jennaispunk @tightjeansjavi @rubyfruitjungle @lilmizmoz @strang3lov3 @pedroshotwifey @harryleatherfit @bitchesuntitled

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfiction #chubby!joel miller #chubby!joel #joel miller x you #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x reader #chubby joe #chubby pedro rights !!!#chubby pedro pascal #fat belly #pedro pascal tummy nation #beefro's bistro #beefro is sweating #you asked beefro answered #🥩#the BEEF

760 notes · View notes

futureman · 10 months

Text

keep it on the low

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

summary: just because you and joel broke up doesn't mean you can't still (secretly) enjoy each other's company

warnings: 18+ MDNI, language, hurt/angst, ex!joel, possessive!joel, pwp, smut, post-breakup sex, rough sex, mild exhibitionism

word count: 3k

a/n: all i can say is oops. blame sza, i guess. and of course, couch gif for obvious reasons. as always, thoughts and feedback are always appreciated!

Joel’s being obvious again. Discretion’s never been his strong suit, but he’s especially attuned to you today, and not in a good way. He’s not undressing you with his eyes, itching for the moment he can take you home like he usually is.

Nope, he just looks irritated as fuck. Way too angry for someone who just happens to be sitting in the same room as his ex. If he keeps this up, you’re going to get caught, and then what are you going to do? Fuck other people?

Like that’ll ever happen. You and Joel broke up almost three months ago and yet here you are, still hooking up like there’s no one else in this town to have sex with. But you have an agreement…sort of. You keep sleeping together, you don’t talk about it, and you definitely don’t tell anyone else. It’s high school-level dramatic and, honestly, you’re both way too old for this shit.

You know everyone’s gossiping about you behind your back, trying to figure out why you’re not together anymore. It was a bad breakup, probably the worst you’ve ever had and the biggest Jackson’s ever seen. The second this town hall is over, they’ll all be chatting amongst themselves, analyzing your behavior like it’s any of their business.

And Joel’s only giving them more to talk about. Seriously, why is he staring at you like that? If you can keep your eyes to yourself for an hour, surely he can at least pretend to be listening to what Maria’s saying, even though it’s boring as hell and doesn’t apply to either of you in the slightest. The winter dance next week really isn't your thing, no offense to her, but at least you're trying to look interested.

You shoot him a quick glare across the room, and he rolls his eyes, finally shifting his focus elsewhere. Apparently, that little interaction is all it takes to stir up the gossip mill because you can already hear a few of the worst offenders whispering to each other.

Fucking vultures. You’re pretty sure half of them are trying to make a move on Joel now that you’re over. Too bad he’s still busy spending his nights buried inside you.

The meeting ends pretty quickly after that, and everyone gets up from their seats, some staying to help put away folding chairs and others loitering around before they head to dinner. Somehow, Joel ends up next to you as you’re walking out, probably on purpose, and you take the opportunity to tell him off.

“Way to be fucking obvious, asshole,” you mumble, hoping no one else can hear you. “Did you have to stare at me like that? You made it seem like I spat in your fucking coffee this morning.”

He scoffs loudly, and you elbow him in the side, throwing him a warning glance. He’s acting like he wants everyone to know what you’re trying so hard to hide and it’s really starting to piss you off.

“Wasn’t lookin’ at you any sorta way, darlin’. You’re the one makin’ a fuss and gettin’ everyone’s attention,” he smirks. It’s not even fair how good he looks when he does that.

You feel a strong urge to slap it off his face, but that’s not really an option right now. An annoyingly intrusive thought tells you to save it for later when you’re alone, but you push it to the back of your mind. He’d probably enjoy that, anyways.

You quirk an eyebrow as subtly as you can. “…Are you kidding me? I wasn’t the one glaring at you the entire meeting.”

He looks around pointedly. “Ya think you’re not makin' it worse right now?”

You pause to take in your surroundings, and he’s right. You’re making a scene unnecessarily when you could’ve just ignored him and gone home like you’d planned. This is exactly why everyone thinks the breakup was your fault. Why they all think you're the villain in his story.

Joel knows just how to bring out the worst in you and you hate it. It’s one of the reasons you broke up in the first place. He pretends like everything’s fine and nothing’s ever his fault, and you’re constantly tricked into proving him right. But today he’s being purposely antagonistic and you can’t tell why.

“Oh, fuck you, Joel,” you grit through your teeth. “Stay the fuck away from me.”

He doesn’t.

Not even a few hours later, he’s at your back door—like always, so no one sees him come and go—eyeing you a little wildly. Hungrily. And suddenly, it all makes sense.

He's horny. Probably has been all day, judging by his behavior earlier. He doesn’t say anything, just lurches forward to kiss you, to get his hands on you, but your arms shoot out to stop him.

“Uhh, what are you doing? Pretty sure I told you to leave me the fuck alone.”

He’s already panting as if he ran all the way here, but the tent in his pants tells you otherwise. His heart is racing under your palms, and while you haven’t forgotten how furious you still are, the fact that he’s this desperate for you makes you want to.

"Yeah, but ya didn't mean it. Ya never mean it,” he says like he knows you so well. You hate that he does, but the last thing you’re going to do is admit it.

“Why the fuck would I say it if I didn't?" you scoff.

"'Cus it's more fun that way," he leans in again, but you jerk your head back. Is he serious? It’s not like you normally have a nice little chat before you fuck, but he usually has more patience than this.

“Joel, stop. Are you trying to get us caught?” you eye him incredulously. It’s dark out and, yeah, you’re not having this conversation on the porch where anyone can see you, but other people’s windows still face your yard. He’s acting ridiculous.

"Maybe I wanna get caught,” he replies smugly, crowding you against the door. “Maybe I want everyone to know who ya belong to.”

His eyes are unreadable, and you’re caught between shock and intense curiosity. But then, that familiar feeling of fury returns, and you allow that to win out. You reach behind you for the doorknob, twisting it open to back inside.

“No. Nope, that’s not happening today,” you say with finality, yanking him by the collar into the house. You shove his back against the door, slamming it shut, and your grip tightens on his shirt. He’s smirking again, and it somehow looks even better on his face now than it did earlier.

“There’s my girl,” he breathes out, his hands finding your waist to pull you closer. It sends an unwitting wave of heat through you, a gasp escaping your lips before you can stop it. Fuck. He hasn’t called you that since before the breakup. Because it hasn’t been true since then, or at least that’s what you tell yourself.

“Only in here. Right, Joel?” He nods his head slowly, but his eyes betray him. He doesn’t believe that for one second.

“Sure, darlin’. Whatever you say.”

And, for now, that’s enough for you. You crash your lips into his hard enough to bruise and he groans into your mouth, rocking his hips into your belly so you can feel him straining in his jeans. It’s a little dizzying knowing just how much he wants you. How much he always wants you.

Flipping your positions to lead him backward, you reach down to unbutton his pants, your lips still moving languidly against his. Your fingertips purposely skim his bulge as you tug down his zipper, and he bucks into your hand, something soft and needy rumbling out of his chest.

More layers of clothing are stripped off and thrown haphazardly on the floor, leaving a trail from the kitchen to the living room, until the backs of his legs bump into the couch. All that's left now are his boxers, your underwear, and your bra. You make quick work of the latter yourself, dropping it to the floor, and then kick off your underwear, smirking at the look of sheer yearning on his face.

He reaches out to touch you, fingertips only managing to graze the side of your breast before you slap his hand away. He's not allowed to touch you until the playing field is even and he's as bare as you are. He already knows that.

His eyes are so dark, pupils dilated until that gentle brown has almost completely disappeared, and the way he's looking at you is reminiscent of a different time. You ignore it, focusing on all of the things you know he's about to do to your body instead. It'll help you forget whatever you just recognized in his gaze for a little while.

You tug on the waistband of his boxers, letting them snap back into his hips.

"Off," you tell him simply, giving him enough time to pull them down before you shove him onto the cushions. You climb into his lap, hands settling on his shoulders as you lower yourself down to drag your wet folds across his cock.

He hisses a breath through his teeth, his fingers digging into your hips to guide you, and you let him slick himself up against your pussy. He's so hard below you, looking painfully and almost angrily red at the tip. You sigh at the repeated friction on your clit and he twitches at the sound, dribbling precum that immediately mixes with your wetness.

"Need to be inside you. Now," he moans breathily, burying his face between your tits. He turns his head slightly to nip at the sensitive skin, and you tremble, trailing a hand up the side of his neck to bury in his soft curls. "You ready for me, darlin'?"

You nod quickly, chest heaving as you lift enough to reach down and wrap your fingers around him. Pumping him a few times, you drag the tip between your folds before lining him up with your entrance. He pants damply into your chest, more precum leaking out in anticipation.

And then you're dropping onto him, crying out loudly as you impale yourself on his cock. His hips shoot up off the couch, forcing himself deeper into your cunt, and he lets out a pained whoosh of air, adjusting to you as much as you are to him.

"Shit, that's—," he chokes out a moan as you start to move, "—tight. Fuckin' grippin' me, Christ."

You purposely squeeze him a little harder, exhaling sharply out your nose when his nails bite into your skin.

"Yeah, because you barely fucking fit," you tease breathily.

But it's more than that. You mold around him like you were made to take it, soft sighs leaving your lips as you ride him slowly. He fits perfectly, something that took precious time, his cock finding a home inside you over and over, reshaping your walls in his image. The lock to his key.

You bury that thought, too—with every swivel of your hips, every brush of your clit against his skin. He latches onto your breast, sucking a nipple into his mouth as you continue to work him.

His eyes flutter shut, hands beginning to guide you up and down a little faster as he swirls searing circles around the nub until it peaks. He tugs at it sharply with his teeth and you gasp, a spear of heat lancing through your spine as you gush around him.

It all feels so…fuck, he knows exactly how you like it. And both of you can hear how much you like it, feel how sticky you're making his lap. The slide around his cock is wet and easy, and your pussy's gripping him even tighter, but you need…god, you need—

"Joel, fuck me—come on, fuck me," you whimper, tugging him away from your tits by his hair, and he responds immediately. Taking over, he establishes a frantic, steady rhythm, lifting you until just the tip is inside, and forcing you back down.

But it's still not hard or fast enough to satisfy the way he needs you right now. He wraps his arms fully around your waist to hold you in place, pistoning his hips into you, forcing increasingly louder haahs out of your chest.

"That's it, darlin', take it…take it," he groans, head tilting back so he can observe every subtle change of expression as he gives you exactly you asked for. He leans up to capture your lips, but it's not so much a kiss as an exchange of breath, soft and humid as you pant heavily into each other mouths.

It quiets you for a brief moment—potentially the best possible moment, because out of nowhere, you hear faint voices passing by outside. They're way too close for comfort, and you realize belatedly that you made a huge mistake earlier.

"W-wait, the curtains—shit, the curtains…ngh…are still open," you barely manage to gasp out. "Fuck, the windows are open."

It doesn't deter him in the slightest and, instead, spurs him on. "S'alright, it's dark in here. They can't see us," he rasps, keeping up his merciless pace.

Ducking his head down, he sucks hard on a sensitive spot—your favorite spot—right above your collarbone, and you whimper much louder than you mean to.

"They can still fucking hear us," you all but growl, feeling your thighs start to quake despite your growing panic.

"Good, let 'em," he laughs almost cruelly, and he sounds so possessive that it stuns you momentarily. He takes the opportunity to abruptly tug you off his lap and toss you onto your back across the cushions, fucking back into you before you can even process the shift in position.

Now that he's on top of you, pressing down with his entire weight, his pelvis grinds into your already swollen clit with every single thrust, and you can't help the wail that escapes your parted lips.

He doesn't hesitate to pull you close, hugging your head to his neck as if he's trying to block out the rest of the world. Everything and everyone, but you and him.

"Always so loud for me. C'mon, darlin', lemme hear ya," he murmurs into your hair, hips snapping into yours. "I know you can be louder than that. Scream for me."

And you do. There's nothing else you could've done anyway, not with how he's dragging against everything just right. Your hips desperately swivel into his, chasing that hot, slick friction every time he connects with you.

The slap-slap-slap of your skin on his becomes a deep, wet thock-thock-thock the closer you get, your pussy dripping pathetically down his cock, fluttering with your impending release. He can feel it, you know he can, because he's moaning loud enough to rival even you now. He ruts greedily into you, hitting so much deeper than before.

"Christ…you're gonna make me cum," he warns, voice wrecked, his face still buried in your hair. "Jesus fuckin'…" You keen into his neck, still desperately chasing your own high, but it's not enough.

"J-Joel, I need—," you try to tell him, but he cuts you off.

"—'m fuckin' cummin'. Fuck," he grunts roughly, tumbling over the edge before you get the chance. His hips slow even as he continues to punch his cock as deep as it'll go, flooding your pussy.

No. Shit—no, no, no. He can't slow down, not now. You're almost there—so fucking close. He has to keep going. Just a little bit longer.

"No, Joel, no," you sob, legs kicking up around his waist as you grind up into him needily, increasing your speed. "Please, harder…please, please. Keep going for me—"

You feel rather than hear the groan rumble in his chest as he resumes his previous, unforgiving pace, ramming into you almost painfully.

"'m gonna. Don't'chu fuckin' worry."

At that, your orgasm quickly crashes over you, and you don't even realize you're slapping a hand into his side, still begging him not to stop as you wring him dry.

It's deafening what erupts from your chest when you finally cum. There's no doubt anyone outside can hear everything. Every squelch, every squeal, even the couch creaking, being pushed to its absolute limit.

Joel's name leaves your lips breathily, repeatedly like a prayer. You're shaking like a leaf underneath him, and he pulls back to brush your hair out of your face so he can kiss you, tender and open-mouthed.

This, too, feels gut-wrenchingly familiar but, for some reason, you don't want it to stop. Right now, you don't want to forget how it makes you feel.

He pulls out slowly, shoving two thick fingers inside you before your pussy can leak your combined releases all over the couch, and the sigh that escapes you sounds both content and despairing. He notices right away. Of course, he does.

Watching him leave you after nights like this hurts so much worse lately. Maybe it's nostalgia. Or maybe it's the unavoidable emotional connection you feel when he's inside you.

Even though months have passed since you decided you'd be better off without each other, something inexplicable keeps bringing you back together. It's not just the sex and you know it, no matter how much you choose to pretend otherwise.

He knows it, too. He tells you all the time—in the softness of his kiss, his desire to please you, and his eyes, still only ever focused on you.

And, now, in the possessiveness of his words and actions. Of his touch.

He gazes down at you knowingly, as if he can see every one of your troubled thoughts in the cloudiness of your eyes. He's always been annoyingly good at that.

"Y'know, I don't have to leave just yet," he murmurs, brushing his nose gently against your cheek. "Only in here, right? You're still mine as long as we're right here."

You let him wrap you up in his arms, nodding into his warm, beautifully scar-riddled chest.

"I'm yours."

thanks for reading! 💕

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #tlou fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #joel miller

2K notes · View notes

hischeapcigar · 10 months

Text

𝓈𝓉𝓇𝒶𝓌𝒷𝑒𝓇𝓇𝒾𝑒𝓈 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝒸𝒾𝑔𝒶𝓇𝑒𝓉𝓉𝑒𝓈

Pre-outbreak Joel Miller x reader

Part: 1 2 3 4

Summary: you're falling in love with the person your dad hates the most

Word count: 3.6k ish

Warning: none except your father is a bit deranged so maybe that's all

a/n: it was supposed to be cute little one shot but i think it's gonna be series lolol. reblogs and comments are appreciated. love you mwah

Your dad hated Joel. You never knew why but it had been like this as far as you could think. Your father played the major role in trying his best to keep you away from Joel.

BBQ party? Everyone's invited except Joel.

Your birthday? Everyone but Joel

He’s grumpy all day? Must've had an interaction with Joel

He even hit Joel, who obviously retaliated but the neighbors showed up to resolve the matter.

The whole neighborhood knew. How could they not? Your dad insulted him behind his back, which some entertained, but most of them grumbled and left the room. Because they knew Joel and they knew your dad too.

Even you felt pity for Joel, the few rare interactions told you he may look big and fierce, but he was a charmer. Sarah’s happy face was proof of his kind nature and your anxious state of mind was a reflection of your dad’s nature.

You once tried to defend Joel, but your father smashed the glass so hard, a sharp piece pierced the skin of your foot, leaving a scar.

Your parents always change the subject every time you try to bring it up,

“Its past, it doesn’t matter,” they’d say

But it mattered to you, a lot. Since the small get-together in the field the other night, when you first saw him. Sarah had lost track of his father, so you went looking for him with her, and that's when you first met him properly after like forever.

Eyes locked and you swore brown became your favorite color. Your breath hitched; mouth slightly agape. He mirrored your reaction but both of you let go just as quickly, minding Sarah’s presence. They left but he turned back to bless his eyes one more time, stealing one more glance at you. The smile he slipped, held your heart forever. You prayed to the heavens to let you both meet again.

Working in the cafe which Sarah and her friends called their “second home”, you had befriended all those little girls. It was fun to be around them, and they loved your company.

You never officially met any of their parents but one of them captured your mind since that night. You didn't know what you could do without offending Sarah.

But you didn't have to do anything, because Joel took the wheel as he showed up the next day in the cafe. Sunday meant Sarah and her friends were having breakfast together in their corner spot.

You came out from the kitchen, passing the tray of coffee to your coworker as you absentmindedly made your way to the counter, ruffling around with the drawer and all the papers.

“Hey” your head shot up to the sound of the voice and the unmistakable familiarity it carried.

“Hi” you replied breathlessly, hands frozen on the paper you just grabbed.

“Um, can I please get a pancake?” his thick Texan accent flowed like honey, his eyes warm and eager.

“Y-yeah, sure,” you could bet that you conjured him from your imaginations. Seeing him again in a person in less than a week was unbelievable

You quickly turned around to pass the order to the kitchen window but stopped just as quick, lightly smacking your forehead as you returned to him,

“Sorry, uh, which flavor would you like?” you cursed yourself for being so clumsy

He tilted his head to the side, contemplating, before he turned on his good old charm, “su’prise me, sweetheart,” he smirked seeing the look on your face.

Absolutely flustered at the nickname he just gave you, and how easily it rolled off his tongue.

You smiled, mumbling a little, “okay,” before you disappeared in the back

You took a moment, taking a deep breath steadying yourself. Hoping no one notices your flushed cheeks, and no one did.

In a few minutes, you prepared yourself to serve him. Running a hand on your outfit once smoothing it, you took the tray and made your way to Joel. You were glad he busied himself reading a magazine because if he looked at you, you would have forgotten how to walk.

“Hello again,” you announced, and he quickly abandoned whatever article he was reading,

“Hey” he smiled, looking curiously at the pancake plate you just put down, followed by a cup of coffee

“I didn’t order coffee-”

“It's on the house, since we believe it's your first time and because your daughter is our loyal customer,” you snickered

He chuckled, “I- thank you, so much, y’didn’t have to though”

“Also, i chose strawberry flavor because it’s my favorite so I'm hoping you’d like it too,” you shrugged lightly before taking a step back, leaving him with his breakfast,

Just as you turned to leave, you heard him call your name, and God that was the sweetest music to your ears. You had no idea how he knew your name, maybe sarah mentioned it, you figured

You cocked an eyebrow,

“You looked pretty that night”

Your heart warmed at the confession, “thank you Joel, you looked great too” you smiled before you left

You couldn't keep your eyes off of him. Every now and then your gaze found its way to Joel. Even after he caught you stealing glances, he just smirked. He knew what he was doing to you, you knew what you were doing to him. A game for two.

You had your back on the counter, conversing with your coworker, when she pointed behind you. You turned to see Joel standing there, ready to leave.

“Thank you once again, I loved the pancake, though I can’t tell if it's my favorite”

“You could come by every week to try all the flavors until you find your preference” you suggested. Any excuse to bring him back.

“Tryin’ all the flavors, huh? I had another reasons to come back anyway, might as well try all the other flavors” smile tugging at the corner of his smile

Oh.

You didn’t even get the chance to response when he added, “hey ya mind, if y’get the uh, the cup?” he nodded to his table

“Yeah, sure” you were confused, why would he tell you what to do?

You went anyway and now you know why as you looked at the tissue piece with his number scribbled in a messy handwriting

Such a flirt. You smiled so widely your jaw hurt.

“Is this Joel or some cute stranger left a wrong phone number on the table?”

You read it for the thousandth time, indecisive if you should send it or is it a bold way to start a conversation. But then it’s Joel, he wouldn’t mind, you thought and hit send.

Your heart was beating fast, wanting to throw your phone across the room. Checking every other second if he replied, then a few minutes later,

J- “Stranger? I thought we were befriendin' each other”

you giggled at the response, feeling like a young teenager having her crush moment

“Well, we’re getting there”

J- “That so? Hope you realize your dad isn’t really my fan”

“Yes, and I wonder why” curiosity creeping back up at you,

J- “We got into a fight back then during a job we did, since then we just couldn’t get along”

Now was that too hard to disclose? Your parents were just dramatic, you thought.

Before typing your response, he started typing again so you waited,

J- “Wish it doesn’t change our sweet journey of becoming friends”

you read his text, wide grin plastered on your face , though a little disappointed that he only wants friendship, but you felt giddy nevertheless

The next week was the beginning of your new, fragile relationship. Joel would stop by at your cafe any chance he got.

I missed my morning coffee (he missed it on purpose)

I’m tired and I thought coffee might help (he just wanted to see you)

Sarah and her friends wanted pancakes (he asked them, “you guys don’t have to go, I'll get you your order if you want” he’d say and gets “okay, Mr. Miller!” “that’s so kind, Mr. Miller”)

Weeks went by, and you grew to his presence at random hours. You started to look forward to him showing up randomly. Your coworkers were quick to welcome him, noticing how your face would light up every time he was around.

He made a three-day streak of visiting before he didn’t show up for 2 days. A part of you wanted to text him to find out if he was okay, but you wanted to give it one more day, and you were not even sure about the thing you both had going on.

You were preparing the order, Oliver standing next to you, working on his order and occasionally making you laugh with his corny jokes when Gina, another coworker, showed up at your side, pulling you away from your half-done coffee,

“I’ll take it from here, go and deal with your favorite customer” she nudged your side,

You couldn’t help but let the smile make its way to grace your lips, but you had to play dumb,

“What?”

Gina gave you the stare that said really?

You snickered as you left, your heartbeat quickening, exhaustion already leaving your body as you saw him sitting at his usual spot, the corner table that nobody likes, so it’s always available, your favorite spot since him.

You reached him and instead of staying seated as usual, he got up and walked closer to you. It has been 2 days and you didn't know how much you missed him now that he was standing in front of you, all you wanted was to hug him and never let him out of your sight.

He took one more step towards you, maintaining eye contact as he slowly raised his hand to your waist and pulled you into him in one swift motion. You stiffened at first, then you locked your arms at his nape melting into his big frame. You took a deep breath like this was something you were missing all your life.

“Hello to my favorite customer,” you smiled at him when you detached yourselves from each other

“Hello to you too, my sunshine,” he replied, matching your smile

You both returned to the table, and he slid a small bag towards you, you didn’t have to open to know what was inside, strawberries, as he started getting you those ever since you told him that strawberries were your favorite.

Whenever you got free from your morning shift, you two would sit in the reserved area of the cafe just to talk. That’s what you both did. Talk about everything and anything. You didn’t need to pretend, you were completely yourself around him, and he, with you.

He kept buying you strawberries because you loved them. And in turn you would treat him with extra cup of coffee on random days

Any little time you spent together felt like an escape from reality and everything it offered. There was no toxicity, just pure, innocent and effortless conversations along with different flavors of pancakes.

Sarah admired Joel showing interest in your company. She wasn’t young enough to see how happy you both looked, and she was genuinely glad about that. She would even make excuses for Joel to come to the cafe,

Hey dad, can you please bring my notebook, I forgot it on the table and we’re discussing something

And boy would he be beyond happy whenever he gets the opportunity to show up at the cafe.

But like waking up from a really good dream,

Joel had just entered the cafe, standing on the counter, chatting with you (not blocking the way of customers) while you received orders when your eyes went wide at the figure entering through the door,

“What is it?” Joel asked casually

You ducked your head, “its dad” you whispered and saw how Joel’s face fell. You both knew you weren’t allowed to hang out with Joel, let alone be around him.

Suddenly his demeanor changed as he cleared his throat, looking down at the menu card, feeling your dad approaching. You managed to keep a serious and bothered face as you saw your dad stopping deadly in his tracks as he saw Joel. oh boy

“There are other cafes in the town” your dad grunted, indirectly referring to Joel, who only rolled his eyes in response.

You bit a smile at his reaction, “hey dad! Didn’t know you were coming” you tried to alleviate the thick tension.

Your dad gave you a tight nod, “yeah, get me two blueberry pastries; your mom called”

Never the friendly face, annoyance etched on his face like it was there since he was born. Your father was exactly the kind of customers you hated. Acting like a boss, like you owe a million dollars.

You looked between two of them before you left to get the box. On your return, you didn’t spot Joel. You frowned, wondering if your dad had said something to him. Your thoughts were cut short by your dad;

“No need to serve him, tell him to go any other cafe, there are plenty of them,”

You were speechless, he was being absolutely ridiculous.

“Wha- dad? He’s just a customer, you can't bring your years’ old absurd beef in this-”

“Do as i tell you, and if you can’t, then leave the job, you can do better anyway” he threatened in low voice, pointing his finger at you, before leaving

You knew your dad was overreacting but you kept your mouth shut because you knew he wouldn’t care about the people and just shout on you if you disagreed with him

It was midnight, your mind was running a hundred thoughts a minute since your dad showed up today. You had no idea how to tell Joel to stop coming to the café, like how could you stop him when it made you the happiest?

“Hey, you awake?” you texted joel

He didn’t reply for 10 minutes, then your phone chimed, you quickly turned it on to see his text,

J- “Yeah, I'm up, why aren’t you asleep yet?” he replied

“Wondering what dad told you today at the cafe” there was no filtering when you were with Joel, sharing every piece of your mind and not regretting it

J- “Except telling me to not ‘roam around you’ he didn't really say anything”

You were embarrassed, why did your dad have to be like that? you felt bad for Joel

“I’m sorry” you sent before typing “I just wish he wouldn’t stop you from the cafe, your presence feels natural there”

J- “Don't be sorry, sweetheart, I didn't mind it at all. He’s only looking out for you; we'll figure it out. plus, I think I can sneak in when I get the chance ;)”

You scoffed at his text, looking out for me? More like suffocating me from things that I actually like. But you felt affection for him in the way he was willing to be with you.

It had been a week, he showed up two times. Two times. A day apart. Then he disappeared for the rest of the week.

After the 3rd long day of him not showing up, you started to worry. Two hours of constant contemplating later, you decided to text him,

“Hey, Joel”

It's Sunday afternoon, 2pm. Not that Joel would have something to do so you wait for his text. You toss and twist in bed, smoking cigarettes, reading old magazines, scrolling on your phone, an hour later, there was no reply.

4 hours; nothing.

8 hours; nothing.

Next day, beginning of next week. You passed by his house, praying to get at least a glimpse of him but there was nothing.

You didn’t even see him on the streets, not with Sarah, just nowhere. As if he didn't even exist.

Still your ears pricked up every time you heard the door to the café ring, desperately hoping it was Joel, but it was never him.

Sarah and her friends were seated at their accustomed table. It distressed you to see Sarah, not knowing how to go and ask her about her dad.

It upset you even more when Gina asked you about him every other day, and more hurt when you had to lie, like “oh he’s just busy,”

But Gina knew better when she saw you with pity in her eyes, that look that told you, I'm sorry he ghosted you.

You had to hold back your tears to keep her from knowing that she was right.

But you broke down the second you locked the room to your room, lighting a cigarette, you placed it between your puffy red lips as the tears streamed down your cheeks,

“Where the hell are you, Joel?” you hit send and threw your phone as you sat on the windowsill, watching the cars go buy,

You got out of the bathroom when you heard your phone ding, you all but ran to the bed, grabbing and swiping it on,

J- “Yeah, just around. How’s everything?”

You were taken aback by the carelessness. As if it wasn't bothering him, as much it was bothering you. As if he didn’t miss you at all like you did. As if it all didn’t matter. As if you didn't matter

“Really? You ghosted me for two weeks and now you're acting all chill?” you replied

Frustration getting the best of you, you wanted to cry again.

J- “Look, I think it’s best for the both of us”

“Fuck what you think, fuck you” you sent

You could feel the tears pricking at the corner of your eyes. You threw your phone on the table before falling on the bed, face first.

The next thing you know is you're sobbing, muffling the sounds with the pillow on your face. You didn't realize how much you were attached to him until now, you didn't know how much you wanted to be with him until now.

You got up to smoke a cigarette to release the stress, but you cried while exhaling puffs of smoke in the air

Fuck him. Fuck him. Fuck him

The next two days were a blur. You avoided spending extra time in the cafe, avoided conversations with your coworkers because they ended up asking about Joel. Your father picked a fight with a random guy just because he took longer to deliver some equipment that he ordered online; it was stupid really. You avoided Sarah too, because she painfully reminded you of Joel

I'm only giving it time, I'll get back to normal eventually, you’d tell yourself

The third day, you were brewing coffee when your phone vibrated, turning it on, your heart dropped to the stomach as you read Joel’s name on it

Quickly you swiped to view the message,

J- “Can we talk?” you felt anxiety rising up. A part of you was excited that he texted while the other part of you was furious, he can't just come and go as he pleases

You were lost in your thoughts when you received another message, J- “please?”

You decided to let things be, he ghosted me for a week, now he wants to talk, he can't expect me to go back running

Putting your phone down, you carried on with your work until it was night.

You closed the cafe as you stepped out, you saw a familiar truck parked beside your car.

Unmistakably Joel.

He stood there leaning against his truck, cigarette smoke around him like a halo. He pushed himself up as he spotted you and he made his way to you.

You stood there frozen. Resisting the strong urge to go and hug him and never let go. But you stood there and waited,

He came close but didn't stop until he was only a few inches away from you. Looking at your face, examining it, eyes running all over your features,

“Sarah said you looked horrible, but God you look worse,” he whispered. Scared if he talks loudly, this all would shatter,

“Like you care?” you retorted.

That's when you saw in his eyes. Regret. Remorse. Before he hung his head down,

Slowly he reached for your hands, hanging on your sides, silently interlacing your fingers. You didn't stop him. You couldn’t

“Please, can we talk?” his voice was small as he looked at you

You nodded

He released a breath, that even he didn’t know he was holding, as he nodded too

With your fingers still interlaced, he tugged you toward his truck. You both walked the distance, hand in hand as you felt droplets of water kissing your skin.

You went rigid making Joel turn and face you, watching you wipe away the water beads from your face. A few more drops on both of you before the rain lashes down.

Joel instinctively became your human shield, as you both ran towards his truck, even though that wouldn’t keep you from drenching, but the action was so Joel. Reaching there, he quickly opened the door for you before getting himself inside from the other side.

Both of your breaths were ragged as you sat in silence.

He ignited the engine bringing his truck to life,

“Where are we going?” you broke the silence

He sighed, “I- uh, had tis place in mind but,” he looked out the window, at the rain, “‘s rainin’ so we can stay in the truck, I guess,”

“What place?” you were confused,

“Y’gonna love it, trus’ me” a small smirk growing in the corner of his lips

--------------------------------------------------------------

Part: 1 2 3

Tags: @strawberri-blonde

#im never getting over #joel miller #or #the last of us #soft joel miller #joel miller fanfic #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller smut #joel miller fluff #joel miller angst #joel miller tlou #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #the last of us

2K notes · View notes

macfrog · 11 months

Text

welcome home cowboy like me chapter five

he's back!!! and he's putting up DECORATIONS part v is yours, loves. if ya wanna read the first four (!! how did we get here) parts, you can check out my masterlist right here 😊 as always your support means the WORLD to me. i love talking with y'all & hearing your thoughts. lmk what we think of this one!!!

pairing: dbf!joel x fem!reader

summary: joel requests your help to decorate his house for sarah’s return…and a few other things, too

warnings: 18+ minors dni!!! the smut is smutting. oral (f receiving), unprotected p in v sex (wrap it the fuck UP), praise kink, lil bit of overstimulation, age gap (reader is 23, joel is 48), un poco consumption of alcohol, cursing, soft!joel at the end tbh i'm a sucker for him

word count: 5.4k

series masterlist | main masterlist | playlist

It’s where this was headed anyway, wasn’t it? You’ve fucked around with Joel three times now, and none of your clothes have ever made it off your bodies. This is a first. You’ve never had an empty house plus the time and space to really do it. Always someone about to walk in, or someone waiting for one of you. When, if not right this fucking second? “I want,” you breathe, fingers now taking hold of the waistband of his black boxers, “you,” you slip them down, “inside me,” exposing the base of his hard cock, “right now.”

The two front legs of your chair scrape against the wooden floor as you lift it to sit down. Your dad had an early finish today, so said he’d cook dinner. From scratch.

He’d refused your help when you offered to keep an eye on the chicken, was more offended when you said you’d cook the asparagus, and now, looking at your scrunched nose as you stare down at the lumpy mashed potatoes, looks just plain insulted.

“Sit, eat, don’t say a word.”

“I offered to help.”

His fork hits off the porcelain plate and he sighs. “I had a lot to tend to, alright?”

“Chicken, asparagus, and…mashed potatoes?” you say, dragging your fork through the mash – though it’s more lump than it is mash.

“Eat. It.”

You tuck in, ignoring the rattle of the table as you tug your knife back and forth to cut the chicken. Your dad’s face reddens as you chew your way through his meal.

“How was work?”

You throw your mouthful back your throat with a gulp and take a big swig of water. “Good,” you try not to choke out, “Sal let me go early ‘cause it was so quiet.”

“Yeah?”

You nod. “Bill was in lookin’ for screws or something. Was Anna who helped him–”

Your sentence is cut short by your dad’s ringtone, and he leans back in his chair to the sideboard behind to retrieve it.

“Yep?” he says, and you know who’s on the other end. Yep? means Joel. “Shoot, I forgot to ask her. Well, she’s right here, gimme a sec.”

He covers the bottom of his phone with his palm, and nods toward you.

“You alright to head over to Joel’s tonight ‘n help ‘im with the house for Sarah comin’ home?”

You narrow your eyes, head tilting. “What…?”

“He’s got some banner or something. Joel, what is it you got? Yeah, a banner. Decorations.”

He cocks an eyebrow and looks at you blankly.

You slowly nod, teeth pulling asparagus off your fork. “I can help.”

“She’ll be over in a bit, Joel. Alright. Alright. Bye, now.”

The phone is thrown onto the table with a clatter. Your dad silently resumes eating.

You clear your throat, trying to sound normal over something you feel very not normal about.

“You volunteerin’ me for things again? I thought we talked about this when you told Rita I’d fix up her flowerbeds for her.”

“Oh, we’re bringin’ up the past, are we?”

“Just sayin’,” you mutter, staring down at your lumpy potatoes.

“Wasn’t me, anyways. Joel asked for you specially this afternoon. Told him you were workin’, he said to ask you when you got back. Was his idea.”

Was it, now? That’s…interesting.

“What time’s he wanting me over?”

“Whenever. He’s in all night.”

Suddenly you’re not so hungry for overcooked chicken and not-mashed potatoes anymore.

You swallow down what you can – what’s edible, anyway – and head upstairs to get ready. Trying to act casual enough that your dad won’t sense your eagerness.

Sure, just grabbing my shoes. I just want the house to look nice for Sarah. It’s really her I’m thinking of. Okay, cool, see you, bye.

You throw a pair of sneakers on, check yourself once over in the mirror, and grab your keys.

“That was quick,” your dad remarks when you reach the bottom of the stairs. He’s still powering through his asparagus.

“Just…wanna get it done. For Sarah, y’know.”

He nods. “You lookin’ forward to havin’ her back? Your ol’ pal?”

“Sure. Alright, I’m off. Don’t wait up.”

You practically throw yourself out the front door before he can get another word in, striding over to your car. You’re thankful when the late sun hits you to only be in sweat shorts and a vest top; it may be seven in the evening, but the heat is still stifling.

You pull up in Joel’s drive and climb out, giving the neighborhood a quick scan as you walk over to the front door, trying not to skip. Being handed an excuse to spend a few hours alone with him in an empty house feels like winning the lottery, you’re a little embarrassed to admit.

Joel’s in the living room laying out the decorations he’s bought when you walk in. He’s wearing a denim shirt and white Rangers tee underneath, his regular old jeans on the bottom.

His Hello is comprised of a glance up, a lift of his eyebrows, and a quick scan over your body as you approach. You take a deep breath to dissipate the bubbling feeling in your stomach.

“So, you asked for me specially, huh?”

He nods. “It was either you or your dad, and his ass ain’t as nice to look at as yours.”

“Oh, nice. Glad to be of service. Looks good,” you muse, nodding downward.

The supplies are sprawled out over the coffee table between you both. A huge banner folded up; the beginning of the word Welcome visible. A few packets of multi-colored streamers, balloons, and other gold and silver colored stuff lay around it.

“Probably won’t use it all,” Joel says, sniffing. “Just wanted to give her a big welcome home.”

“All my dad did was pick me up at the airport,” you scoff.

Joel looks up, misses a beat, then says, “Well, your welcome home gift is me.”

“Ha. Good one. C’mon. Let’s get started.”

You task Joel with blowing up balloons while you balance along the back of his couch to tape streamers to the top of the walls. It’s a struggle, though, since Joel keeps tying balloons and hitting them over to you, aiming for your head. He titters to himself when your hair begins to go static.

“That funny to you?” you yell, whacking the fifth balloon out of your face.

“Yeah,” he chuckles back. “You should see your hair, kid.”

By the time the streamers are suspended from the ceiling, dancing in the breeze from the open windows, Joel’s out of breath and sweating.

“Hard fuckin’ work,” he mutters, taking off his shirt. He throws it onto the couch without looking, but still, you suspect he knows exactly what you’ll do.

With a sideward glance to him, you lean back and fish it from the couch, throwing it over yourself. There’s something intoxicating about wearing his clothes, smelling him all over yourself, feeling the warmth from his body. Joel knows it. When he glances over at you to see his shirt hanging off your shoulders, he smirks.

“I think we deserve a break,” he says, eyes lingering.

When he makes off for the kitchen, you throw yourself down on his couch, head falling back against the soft cushions.

He returns with two beers, handing one down to you before laying back beside you. Your shoulders rub against one another as you both take a swig.

“Your dad really didn’t do nothin’? When you got home?”

“I guess you could say he did the barbecue,” you reply, shrugging.

“The neighborhood barbecue, that everyone takes a turn at hostin’? The same one he had you out buyin’ steaks and soda for, two hours before it started?”

“I don’t need a welcome home party. I am the welcome home party.” Your middle finger meets your thumb and you give your wrist a shake in the air, and Joel laughs.

“You deserve one.”

“You wanna throw me one?”

“Can do. If you want.”

You smile in response.

A few moments of silence pass. Comfortable silence. You lie, temple resting against Joel’s shoulder, listening to the trees in his back yard rustle, the birds singing. Peaceful, tranquil. Content.

You like talking with Joel. You like when he’s doing other stuff to you, sure, but you like just being around him. It’s different to spending time with anyone else his age. They all want to ask about your future, your career, are you dating anyone?

Joel just lets you be. Doesn’t push nothin’, doesn’t make you worry. Just wants to make you feel good.

Both mentally and physically, of course.

“Heard any more from Arthur Kennedy?” you ask, more just to hear his voice again than anything. You’re kinda worried he’s falling asleep over there.

Joel takes a deep breath, starts playing with the label on his beer bottle. “Nope,” he says, taking a quick sip, “and don’t wanna.”

“What is it with him, anyways? Why is he the way he is?”

“Just a dirtbag of a man. You get ‘em, y’know? Ain’t none of us really like him. I was pissed at your dad for askin’ him the other day.”

“What does he say at Frank’s? What kinda talk does he give?”

Joel shakes his head like he doesn’t even want to open his mouth. When you nudge him, he clears his throat and then speaks.

“Just all this, ‘I bagged this chick last week’, ‘I was messin’ ‘round with this little beauty’… ‘Tighter ‘n a’ this, ‘Wetter ‘n a’ that. We all know he’s just talkin’ load. The man’s too old to even get an erection anymore.”

You snort. “I bet I could run rings around ‘im, if I ever caught him talking like that.”

Joel half laughs, but it falls apart when his tone gets quietly serious again.

“Just…do me a favor, and stay away from him,” he says in a soft voice. “You’d have me up all night if I thought him ‘n his sleazy hands were anywhere near you.”

He turns his head to lean his jaw on your hair. You think over what he just said. The thought of Joel, awake all night with worry about some sleazeball being within a four-house radius of you makes your stomach flutter.

The idea of him being worried about you. The thought of what he’d do if he ever caught wind Arthur Kennedy had even so much as looked at you twice.

Before your stomach lurches out of your throat with the butterflies soaring around it, you decide to cut the moment short.

“Where’s the banner goin’?” You lean forward, placing your beer on the coffee table and taking hold of the sign.

“Was thinkin’ on that wall,” Joel nods to the wall across from the living room door, “so it’s the first thing she sees when she comes in.”

“Uhuh,” you reply, nodding.

“C’mere,” he says, standing up. “Climb on.”

“Climb on what?”

“My shoulders. I can’t reach all the way up there, what with the TV in the way and all.”

“You’re, like, six feet.”

“It’s a big banner,” he grumbles, kneeling to let you swing your legs over his shoulders. “C’mon. Up.”

“Pfft, okay, old man.”

“Old–? Did you just–? That’s not even funny.”

Joel straightens up and you clutch your stomach with laughter.

“Will you just get on, baby?”

“Alright, alright. Stay still.”

You carefully mount his shoulders and his steady hands wrap around your knees, holding you in place. You wobble as he straightens his legs, lifting you so high your head brushes off the ceiling.

“Alright, be careful. No sudden movements.”

“Right here?” you ask, positioning it.

“Little to the left,” he groans, craning his neck to see. “Right there, that’s it.”

You push the pin through the banner and into the wall, releasing your breath once it’s secured. Joel slowly shuffles over to the other side where you line it up and do the same there.

Once all four corners are in place, he steps back, your legs still wrapped over his neck, and you both admire your teamwork. Joel’s thumbs are gently rubbing your thighs.

“Looks good, huh?”

“Mhm,” you reply. “Anything else to go up?”

“Nah. That’ll do.”

“You just keepin’ me up here for company, then?” you ask, leaning over to look at his face.

He looks back up at you and snorts. “Sorry, darlin’.”

Joel slowly makes over to the couch and bends a little, letting you dismount him to stand on the leather cushion. You’re only slightly taller than him, even standing on his furniture.

He doesn’t take his eyes off you, scanning from your lips down to your chest, curtained by his shirt, then over your stomach and down your legs. You know that look. You’ve seen it enough by now. It means…

“What’s next?” you innocently ask, and his eyes snap back up to your face.

Instead of answering, he steps forward, taking your waist in his hands and pulling you against him. His chin tilts up and you smile as you dip your head, connecting your lips.

You immediately deepen the kiss, feeling Joel’s hunger, and satiating your own, too. Your arms drape over his shoulders, relaxing as his form holds you, allowing you to fold into him.

His arms take a grip of you as he bends at the waist, lowering you both down onto the couch, laughing against each other’s lips. He pulls your thighs apart to lean his hips between yours.

His hands begin exploring your body, feeling from your hips over your breasts, making you moan into the kiss, and settle on the collar of his shirt, pushing the sleeves down your shoulders to remove it. In return, your fingers find the hem of his tee and pull it up over his midriff, hunger growing with each hot second that passes.

He leans back, giving you room to whip the shirt over his head, before his naked torso is back on you. His fingers then dance along the waistband of your shorts, untying them whilst his other hand plays at the hem of your vest.

Your shorts lying loose on your hips, he peels your top off of your body, and your shoulders lift to let it over your head. Joel takes the opportunity while your back is off the couch to unclip your bra, throwing the article to the floor.

“Nice,” you whisper into his mouth, and he chuckles in response.

His bare chest, decorated lightly with dark brown hair, is against yours; his lips move to your neck, biting another mark into the sensitive skin. Your head tilts back and you let out a moan, wanting more, but Joel’s taking his time. He’s making every second count.

You buck your hips against his and he lifts his head, giving you a knowing smirk and obeying your silent request. He begins making his way down, not forgetting to stop off by your tits and run his tongue over your nipples.

Your hands find home in his hair and your back arches some as he caresses the hardened buds, lips forming an O shape to suck on one while tending to the other with his thumb and index finger.

When you whine and your hips lift a second time, he moves across your tummy and toward your lowering shorts.

Eyes glazed with lust, you watch as he yanks them down, your panties the only thing separating you from him now. You hear your shorts hit the floor when he drops them, and places a wet kiss over your clothed cunt.

“Joel,” you moan, head falling back against the cushion. He’s driving you fucking insane.

“Mhm,” he murmurs, kissing the insides of your thighs. “Tell me, baby, tell me what you want.”

You writhe under his touch; he’s so close, and yet so far.

“Your tongue,” you whimper.

“Huh? Can’t hear you over your moanin’, pretty girl.”

“Fuck– Need your fucking tongue,” you say as clearly as you can, still whining some.

“Good girl.”

He uncovers your soaking cunt and tears – literally, tears – your panties off of your body, balling them up in a tight fist. You gasp, both delighted and relieved, watching him discard the ripped fabric by his side.

Neither of you give a fuck. You’re desperate to feel each other, be on each other, be in each other.

He dips his head to your sex, and drags a long stripe up to your clit, collecting your juices on his tongue as he does. His tongue runs between your folds, swirling around, licking and threatening to dip further, before he lifts away again.

You let out a long moan, hands still tugging at his hair, attempting to push his head harder on your pussy. He doesn’t budge.

“Patience, baby,” he’s whispering, lowering his chin again to place his soft lips against your swollen clit.

He knows what he’s fucking doing – teasing you and making you wait like this. He wants it to build, really build, before you cum. He’s not cutting any corners.

His lips center over your bud, tongue tapping against it as he sucks, and brings his fingers up to sift through your folds. Your cunt aches for him; your hips find rhythm against his mouth as you fuck yourself off of him, and he lets you.

Feeling how wet you are, he plunges two long, curved fingers into your pussy, and your back, sticky with sweat, peels off of the couch for the second time.

“Fuck, Joel,” you gasp, feeling the stretch of his fingers inside you.

He hums against you, the vibrations of his deep voice pleasuring you more. He’s loving it as much as you are; tasting you, hearing you, breathing all of it in like it’s fresh air to his lungs.

Your breathing begins to falter, your chest rising and falling, your entire body ignited by his touch. You’re panting his name over and over, whining every time his fingers hit the spongey walls of your cunt.

He’s so fucking good at this.

He removes his fingers and replaces them with his lips, mouth planted firmly against your pussy. You widen your legs and he pushes down on your thighs, keeping them apart to make room for his jaw against your core, tongue licking between your folds again.

“Tongue,” you remind him.

“I hear ya,” he mumbles, and opens his lips.

His wet tongue slips into your cunt like it’s made to be there. You screw your eyes shut, pushing your upper back into the couch to lift your ass to him. His top lip cups around your clit as he eats you out, moans strumming against your sex, tongue exploring your wet hole.

“I’m close,” you whisper, and he removes his lips for two seconds to tell you to “Keep goin’, baby.”

“Doin’ so well for me,” he laps at your juices, “taste so fucking good, beautiful.”

He inserts his fingers again to bring you nearer your climax, and your mind starts to blank. You know what’s coming.

You can’t even form the shape of his name with your mouth as you draw nearer and nearer to your high; all you can focus on is the feeling of his hand fucking you, pumping in and out of your tight pussy, the way his tongue soaks your clit, the rutting of your hips all over his face.

It’s so fucking filthy, and so fucking good.

When Joel’s voice breaks through the fog in your brain, telling you to “Let go, baby, I’m here,” you obey him.

The edges of the room start to bleed white as your body lifts, fingers gripping onto Joel’s hair, hips digging further into the cushion.

It’s only ten o’clock; for all you know, Joel’s neighbors might be out in their backyard enjoying the warm night breeze. Do you care? Fuck no. You cry his name loud enough that the whole street might hear.

He coaxes you through it, drinking in your orgasm, moaning when your walls lock around his fingers and you cover his tongue in your sweet wet.

He slips his soaked fingers from your core and you whine at the loss; Joel makes up for it by gently massaging your aching clit as you come down, spreading your cum all over you.

“That’s it, baby, did so good. That felt good, huh?”

Still coming to, you don’t reply; you feel his weight back on top of yours, his safe arms wrapping around your shoulders.

“’s okay, darlin’,” he coos as your sight starts to return. He peppers your neck with gentle, wet kisses, bringing you back to earth.

Before even you realize it, your fingers are grasping at his jeans, blindly trying to undo the button and zipper. Joel laughs, lifting his hips to give you better access.

You giggle, loosening them and hauling them past his hips, and he sits up to drag them down his legs and shove them off near your shorts.

“What now, sweet girl?”

Your voice is low, serious. Barely above a whisper.

“Fuck me.”

He almost looks taken aback. As if he never thought he’d hear those words escape your lips. Like he’d been pushing you, further and further, expecting you to always hold back, always bounce back from the edge.

And here you are, clutching his arms and hauling him over with you.

It’s where this was headed anyway, wasn’t it? You’ve fucked around with Joel three times now, and none of your clothes have ever made it off your bodies. This is a first.

You’ve never had an empty house plus the time and space to really do it. Always someone about to walk in, or someone waiting for one of you. When, if not right this fucking second?

“I want,” you breathe, fingers now taking hold of the waistband of his black boxers, “you,” you slip them down, “inside me,” exposing the base of his hard cock, “right now.”

Joel’s eyes darken just as his huge cock bounces free from his underwear.

He’s watching your lips breathe out the words like it’s all he ever wanted to hear, all he’s thought about since that first night with your hands on his thighs, looking up at him so innocently.

Just waiting to be fucking ruined by him.

You slur the words again. “F-fuck me.”

“Yeah? ‘s that what you want?”

“Mhm.”

He’s kneeling over you now, helping you tug the underwear down his legs, precum-coated tip of his cock drawing circles on your stomach.

When he’s fully naked, he presses his body against yours, speaking to you between hot, wet kisses.

“You sure you can take it, pretty girl?”

“I’m sure,” you reply, lust taking over any remnants of your orgasm. Just fucking fuck me.

Joel’s hips raise, and he looks down to guide his cock to your hole. You bring your knees up, positioning them just under his biceps.

“Good,” he mumbles under his breath.

You’re so wet that when he runs his shaft through your folds, slicking himself up, his tip kisses the entrance of your cunt, drawing a gasp from you and a growl from Joel. You’re desperate for him to just slide in, make himself at home where he belongs, between your hips.

And when he does, it’s fucking euphoric.

He’s big. You knew this already. But feeling him inside you is different.

He pushes in halfway first, letting you get used to him.

“Okay?” he asks quietly.

You nod; your voice catches in your throat as he falls out of you, just to thrust in again and let his cock dive through your soaked, swollen folds straight into your warm cunt.

He’s so big that when he bottoms out inside you for the first time, your mouth falls open wordlessly, and your brain shuts down for a few minutes. Nothing but the feeling of him slipping in and out of your cunt slowly, fucking you dumb.

When he knows you can take him, he picks up the pace, dragging his hips back and forth against yours, filling you up until his tip kisses the edge of your cervix, and pulling out until he’s between your folds again.

You’re holding onto his shoulders like you’re hanging off a cliff edge. The feeling of his hot skin under your arms is the only thing keeping you grounded right now; the pressure between your legs with each thrust of his huge cock threatening to pull you off the edge of the abyss.

When his voice breathes in your ear between his groans, you snap back to reality. Thighs burning, nails scratching, pussy throbbing reality.

“You okay, baby?”

“Mhm.”

“Let me hear you, pretty girl, tell me how good it feels.”

He’s going faster still, balls smacking against your ass every time he bottoms out, sighs and whimpers passing your lips.

You whine his name, telling him, “Harder,” and he obliges, hips snapping ever stronger. His pubic bone grinds against your clit as he thrusts, the pressure spreading spots of pure bliss across your vision.

You look down to where your bodies connect, mesmerized by the sight of his cock pumping in and out of you. It turns you on even more.

“We look good, huh?” his voice lulls from above, and you look back up to find him watching you.

He dips his head and kisses you, and you start to near your second high.

“Joel,” you mewl, the feeling so good you can’t even form the words to tell him.

He knows, anyway.

“So good, baby,” he’s panting, sweaty forehead leaning against yours, “gonna cum all over me again?”

You nod, eyes screwing shut. He’s fucking you so good you’re barely remembering to breathe.

“Let go, darlin’, let me hear you,” he whispers, and you fold.

Joel bites into the crook of your neck and lets out a loud groan as he feels your pussy clamp around him. He fucks you through it, only slowing for a few seconds to let it wash over you, then picks the pace straight back up when you quieten and your breathing calms.

You’re so fucking overstimulated, but he’s not done, and you know what he wants. You want something, too. Maybe you two could work together.

“Joel?”

“Mhm?” He’s gone quiet, chasing his own high. You hear his breathing stammer when you say it.

“Want you to do it from behind.”

“Beh–” He’s almost gasping for breath, but when he understands what you mean, he wastes no time.

Wordlessly, he loosens his grip on you and pushes himself up, dick slipping out. You moan at the feeling of emptiness as it pulls out of you.

He gives you space to turn over, helping you move further up the couch with steady hands on your hips. When you settle, he lifts your ass up.

“Not gonna last long, baby,” he tells you, and you nod. Your right ear lies flat, sweat sticking you to the leather, hands splayed out above your head gripping the cushions.

You feel him line up again, his thighs against yours. Your breathing jilts as his head pushes in, followed by his shaft, filling you up, deeper and deeper until his balls kiss your clit.

You let a deep moan pass your lips. Joel groans, hips leaving your ass, only to smack into them again as he fucks you even deeper from this position.

He’s stretching you out more than you thought possible, cock spearing into you, tears swelling across your half-shut eyes. The feeling, the pain, too good to ask him to stop, but so overwhelming you can feel every thought, every instinct, every other feeling, leave your body with every thrust.

Joel’s all you know. He’s all you want to know.

Your legs start to give, and he places his rough hands on your waist to hold you up, pumping in and out of you at a punishing pace.

“Joel…” you whine.

“I know, baby, I know. I’m there, too.”

You feel his weight pushing on the back of your thighs and open your eyes to see him leaning over you, hands placed either side of your head. You lace your fingers with his and let him fuck you, totally mindless to everything around you except for the man at your ass, pummeling his dick inside you so deep your cunt is aching.

It pushes you over the edge.

Your walls squeeze his dick, threatening to pull him over with you. Your vision blanks for the third time tonight; what energy you have left is poured into the filthy cry which escapes your lips as Joel’s hard cock splits you open.

“So tight, baby, good fuckin’ girl.”

Joel begins to falter, his thrusts become sloppy, and he pushes your ass off of him so not to finish inside you. You kinda feel disappointed, wishing he’d just stay inside and fill you to the brim with his cum.

Joel gives himself a couple more strokes before you feel his seed coat your ass, warm, dripping down the small of your back and the underside of your thighs.

You moan at the feeling of him spilling all over you, the grunts he lets slip as his orgasm washes over him. You smile dumbly at the thought that you’re the one doing this to him; you’re the one covered in his cum. You’re his, even if it’s only in this moment.

He’s panting behind you. He almost collapses on top of your back, propping himself on his elbows to keep some of his weight off.

He gently leans down and nuzzles his nose against your ear, eliciting a quiet giggle from you.

“You okay?” he breathes.

You nod. “Better than okay.”

“You sore?”

“A little.”

“Baby…” he coos, and pushes himself up.

You sigh as his weight leaves you, and you hear his footsteps pad into the kitchen. You stay put, in part to keep from staining Joel’s couch with…well, Joel, but mostly because you’re too fucked-out to even move. Too fucked to feel your thighs, your back, never mind between your legs.

Joel returns with paper towel, and softly wipes from your back to your thighs, cleaning up his mess. He massages your muscles as he goes, and your eyes shut over with the sweet feeling.

When he’s done, he rolls you over and takes hold of your ankle, pulling you down the leather to his grasp, where he puts his tee over your head and helps you feed your arms through the sleeves. The Rangers logo sits just below your chest.

He pulls his boxers back on, before taking your outstretched arms and scooping you up in his. Your head falls limp in the crook of his neck, his arms wrapped securely around your waist.

He carries you, completely dazed and fucked, out of the living room and upstairs. He makes a right at the top, down the dim hallway, past the same closet he went down on you in just two days ago, toward a door at the end. He knocks it open and takes you through.

Even in your half-sleeping state, you know exactly where you are. You’re in Joel’s bedroom.

You’ve been in here before, maybe only a couple times, when Sarah’s needed something or you’ve accompanied your dad to help repair something for Joel, but it feels different now.

It’s dark, the sun almost set on the other side of the house and the streetlights’ glow a burning orange right above Joel’s headboard.

He carries you over to the left side of the bed and lays you down in his soft sheets. He tucks you under the comforter and bends to place a long, tender kiss on top of your head.

You begin to swim in and out of sleep, waking to find him folding your clothes into a neat pile by the bedside, then again to watch him set a glass of water on the nightstand.

Your eyes are glued shut with exhaustion when you feel him lift the duvet behind you and slip in, taking your waist under his forearm and pulling you flush against his frame.

You listen to the faint sound of a cell phone dialing, and then hear his voice; soft, hushed, but still normal Joel.

“Hey, man. Yeah, no, everything’s fine. We were pretty late finishin’ up with these decorations, and then The Shining was on TV, so we stayed up to watch it. She’s pretty exhausted. I let her take Sarah’s room, I hope that’s okay?”

Your dad’s voice is faint down the line as you begin to drop off in Joel’s arms.

“Sure thing, thanks, Joel. You kick her out first thing, you hear? Don’t want her holdin’ you up for gettin’ Sarah.”

When you hear him slide his cell back onto his nightstand, you mumble something incoherent into his arm.

“What, darlin’?” Joel asks, head lifting to hear you better.

“I said, great welcome home party. Thanks.”

His lips press lightly on your shoulder, his breath hot on your skin. Whatever it is he says, you don’t hear it, already long gone to a deep, comfortable sleep.

----------

taglist: @yvonneeeee @subconsciouscollapse @leahlovestwd @peqchsoup @whorror-s @k1ttybean @whichwitchwanda @abuttoncalledsmalls @anner--nanner @jpbplvr @laysmt @ankhmutes @bookishhella @cannolighost @luvrking @mellymbee @yourwinchesterbros @nostalxgic @scottstotts @daiseygriffithx @letsgroovetonighttt @huffle-punk @unbotheredbeeeee @iluvurfather @wildcat116 @godisawomansblog @55vvaa55 @koshkaj-blog @initforthebooks @theywhowriteandknowthings @thatgirljayy@sasakipsposts @casa-boiardi @milla-frenchy @aim-formyheart @taeslarityy @lxstbxyscave23 @joelmillerxapologist @capt-rex @earthtogrogu @serenaxpedro @brittmb115 (lmk if i've missed you out & check my taglist info for how to be added!)

#joel miller #joel miller fic #dbf!joel #dbf!joel miller #joel miller x reader #the last of us #tlou #tlou fic #joel miller smut #pedro pascal #pedro pascal joel miller #cowboy like me

1K notes · View notes

guess-my-next-obsession · 1 year

Text

Elementary, Chapter Four

pairing: pre-outbreak!joel miller x teacher!reader

chapter rating: E (18+ ONLY, oral (fem rec), unprotected piv, dirty talk??, unedited/unbeta’d)

word count: 4.3k

series masterlist | joel masterlist

“Alright, everybody. Please remember to fill out your reading log during the break,” you talked over a room full of distracted tweens excited for the upcoming Spring Break. “Am I talking to air?”

“I hear you,” Sarah answered your question as she approached your desk, her backpack slung over her shoulder. “And I wanted to apologize for last Friday. I was having a bad day and Jessie was making a big deal about me leaving the sleepover—“

“Sarah, sweetheart, you don’t need to apologize,” you assured with a kind smile. “Have you talked to Jessie?”

“Yeah, dad took me over to her house on Sunday night and we talked it out. I guess she was offended by me leaving, but I explained to her that I just get anxious sometimes and can’t—“ She sighed. “It just feels better being at home with my dad. I don’t have to try to be funny or cool or whatever.”

You smiled at the tenderness of Joel and Sarah’s bond.

“But anyways,” she continued. “My dad wanted me to ask if you were busy tonight—he still hasn’t gotten a new cellphone which, if you’re wondering, is why he’s having me act as the messenger.”

“Isn’t he coming to pick you up today?”

“No, him and Uncle Tommy are in San Antonio meeting with a developer or something like that,” she informed. “My grandma is picking me up.”

“Oh, well, you can tell your dad I’m free like always,” you chuckled and tried not to think about the fact that as today’s parking lot attendee, you’d have to come face to face with the mother of the man you’d been casually seeing for three weeks now. “Oh, and tell him he needs to get a new phone so you don’t have to play messenger anymore.”

“Trust me, we’ll probably be waiting years until he finally breaks down and gets himself one.” The two of you shared a laugh.

“In that case—“ You jotted your landline and cellphone number on a post-it note. “Here.”

“Miss? My mom wanted me to let you know that I won’t be doing any of my reading logs this week,” another student approached your desk and very sassily delivered his news. You chuckled out a scoff and fixed your attention on him while Sarah went back to her desk.

“Okay, Michael, why won’t you be doing your reading logs?” You crossed your arms over your chest and waited for his response.

“Because it’s Spring Break,” he defended.

“Yes, I’m aware. That’s why I didn’t assign any homework. All you need to do is keep reading at least a chapter a day of your book—“

“I don’t want to read my book. That’s basically homework.”

You gave him an incredulous look as you tried to gather what little patience remained in you after a long year of teaching fifth graders.

“No, Michael. Homework is what Mrs. Hill gave her students—a packet a day. What I’m asking if you is to do what you’re already supposed to be doing—reading a chapter a day of whatever book you want. That’s not homework, that’s just an activity.”

“Well, I’m not doing it.” He remained firm, mimicking your stance by crossing his arms over his chest.

The bell ringing interrupted whatever onslaught of frustration you were just about to bestow upon him, his smug smirk boiling your blood as he turned and shuffled out of class.

“Have a good break,” you called out to the rest of your students as they shuffled out of the classroom in a single file line.

“Hey,” Joel sighed out his greeting as he entered his mother and father’s ranch home on the outskirts of Austin. Sarah was sat in the living room on the floral loveseat covered in plastic while her grandfather, Paul, sat in his rocking chair fast asleep.

“How did it go?” Sarah offered him a smile as he rounded the corner of the loveseat to plop down beside her.

“Went alright,” he replied. “Got a good chunk of jobs lined up for me and the guys, so we’ll be good on work ‘til the end of the year.”

“That’s good!” She beamed, bringing a hesitant smile to her father’s face. Joel never liked to celebrate his successes—something he likely learned from his father. “Oh,” she tapped his arm as she remembered your conversation from earlier, quickly informing him about your lack of plans for tonight. “She also gave me her number to give to you.”

Joel watched as Sarah fished the note out of her pocket before handing over the crumpled up piece of paper.

“You think she’s home yet?” Joel checked his watch.

“Dunno,” she shrugged. “But grandma was talking about all of us going out for dinner tonight.”

“Oh, was she?” Joel looked disappointed by the sudden emergence of plans when he spent all day hoping that tonight would be spent just with you.

“Joel?” Mary, Joel’s mother, came walking down the stairs with a smile. “Bout time you came to see us.”

“I’m busy with the new company, ma, you know that,” he argued as he stood up to greet her, pressing a kiss to her cheek.

“Busy with the company or with your new lady friend?” she teased with a grin. Joel whipped his eyes over to his daughter who already held her hands up in defense.

“My bad.”

Joel chuckled out a scoff before turning back to his mother. “It’s new.”

“And? That’s all you gotta say about her?”

“To you. For now.” Joel followed her into the kitchen, Sarah trailing shortly behind.

“What do you think I’m gonna do? Hunt her down and force her to look at your baby book?”

“Wouldn’t be the first time,” he retorted with a mischievous smile.

“Joel Miller, I swear if you do not give me at least a summary of this woman—“

“Alright, alright,” Joel sighed and looked to Sarah who was beaming with amusement. “She’s Sarah’s teacher. We met at a parent/teacher conference. She’s…nice.”

“Nice?” Both women repeated the descriptor as if it was an insult.

“Dad, you’re basically in love. I’m sure you can find a better word than nice,” Sarah reasoned.

“She is nice. Everything else is private,” he argued.

“Well, I guess we’ll find out at dinner tonight,” his mother shrugged with a smirk. Joel turned wild in the eyes and shook his head.

“No, no, no. She ain’t—y’all aren’t—no.”

Sarah laughed at her dad’s fluster and looped her arm around his waist hug him. “It’ll be okay, pops. Just breathe.”

“Oh, to hell with that,” Joel shook his head again, turning to his mother. “I haven’t even taken her out for a real dinner yet, ma. I’m not invitin’ her out to deal with y’all.”

“Deal with? Son, we are as civilized as anybody else—“

“Ma, you got a plunger? I clogged the damn toilet!” Tommy shouted from upstairs and Joel gestured in his direction as though to prove his point.

“Well not here. We’re in the comfort of our own home,” she defended as she made her way out of the kitchen to help her son. “She’s comin’ tonight! Better go on and call her up.”

“Christ,” he sighed and stomped over to the landline, his scowl fixed on Sarah as he dialed the number. “If she never speaks to us again, it’s on you.”

“She’ll love us.”

Although it wasn’t what you were expecting for the night, Joel’s call to invite you out to dinner with his family was impossible to decline just due to how much you missed him. Even if you turned into a ball of nerves every time you had to meet “the parents”, it was worth it just to be in the same room with him, especially after the day you had.

At seven, Joel, Sarah, and Tommy came to pick you up, but for once it was you running late. You invited them inside to wait while you finished getting ready, handing Sarah the TV remote and watching as her and Tommy instantly started bickering over what to watch while Joel followed you into your bedroom.

“How is this the first time I’ve ever been in your room?” He found a seat on the foot of your bed while you sat at your vanity, finishing up on taming your hair.

“Because I’m old fashioned,” you turned back to give him a wink. “But also because I can’t seem to get you alone long enough to give you a proper tour.”

“I know,” he sighed and walked over to you, standing behind you. He leaned down to kiss your cheek, the warmth and softness of his lips curing something that had been aching inside of you since the last time he kissed you. “I made a deal with my mom. She watches Sarah this weekend, and I suck it up and allow you to meet my chaotic family.”

“Mm, so I get you all weekend is what you’re saying?” You smirked at him through the mirror.

“All. Damn. Weekend.” He kissed your neck as a promise, your eyes fluttering closed as you relished in his proximity. “No interruptions. Just me and you.”

“S-sounds good,” you stuttered through your haze of lust and Joel smiled against your skin, seemingly amused by his effect on you.

“You got chills,” he rasped, his fingertips trailing up and down your arm. “That all me?”

“Just wait until you see what else you do to me,” you purred back, earning a groan of desperation.

“You two done yet?” Tommy called out from the living room. “We got places to be.”

“Save that thought for after dinner,” Joel mumbled against your cheek as he gave you one more kiss.

Five or so minutes later and you were on your way to the restaurant, nerves now replacing the butterflies you felt in your stomach as you thought about what his parents would be like. If they were anything like Tommy, Sarah, and Joel, you had nothing to worry about, but it was the uncertainty that drove you mad.

“You alright?” Joel stayed back with you as you pretended to have forgotten something in the truck, Tommy and Sarah heading into the restaurant to meet up with Joel’s parents.

“Just nervous,” you shrugged with a soft smile. “Anything I should avoid bringing up?”

“Politics. My dad’s a big Republican, so,” he winced. “But my mom is about as liberal as they come, so at least there’s that.”

“So I should stick to talking to your mom, then,” you joked.

“Come on,” he nudged his head towards the restaurant and laced his fingers with yours. “I’ll be right there next to ya, and as soon as we’re done with dinner it’ll be just us all weekend.”

You took a deep breath of courage and gave him a cheeky but bashful smile, bringing a similar one to his own face.

“God, I just can’t help myself—“ Joel cupped your cheek and tilted your head up to meet him as he leaned in for a surprising kiss, your hand finding purchase on his wrist to ground yourself.

“Mm,” you hummed as you pulled away from him earlier than he would’ve liked. “Let’s not stall anymore. Don’t want your mom to think I’m a bad influence.”

“She knows me well enough to know I’m the bad influence, but alright,” he tugged you off towards the restaurant with your hand in his.

As the hostess guided you through the busy dining room, you leaned further into Joel. He didn’t seem to mind the clinginess, his hand letting go of yours so that he could slide an arm around your waist.

“There y’all are!” A stout woman you presumed to be Joel’s mother stood up from the table where the rest of the Millers were seated, a big, dimpled grin on her face that resembled Joel’s.

“Ma,” Joel introduced the two of you by name, his eyes fixed on you as you shook her hand and allowed her to seat you beside her rather than next to Joel like you’d hoped. You gave Joel a nervous look from across the table as he sat himself directly across from you beside his father.

“It is so nice to meet you, sweetheart,” Mary fixed her attention on you. “Joel’s been pretty tight lipped about ya, so why don’t you tell me a little about yourself.”

“Well,” you chuckled nervously, but Joel’s reassuring eyes from across the table helped calm the frenzy of anxiety coursing through your veins. “I’m a teacher, have been for a few years now but this is my second year in Austin.”

You found it surprisingly easy to talk to Mary, her warm smile and sense of humor similar to that of her children and granddaughter. You told her where you grew up, where you’d been before coming to Austin, about what you liked to do in your free time, but mostly you told her the story of how you and Joel came to be.

Across the table, his father continued to remain stern and silent, only mumbling to his boys or to Sarah every now and again to remind them to use their manners. He seemed like a tough egg to crack, and while you were up for the challenge eventually, earning his respect today seemed unlikely.

“Joel, you ever tell her about your singin’?” Tommy spoke up from down the table, his question bringing a blush to Joel’s face.

“Yeah, I mentioned it.” He looked over to you and cracked the most subtle of smirks, no doubt remembering what occurred shortly after.

“Well, you gonna sing for her?” Mary asked with mischief in her tone, bringing an amused smile to your face.

“Not here,” he sassed, tilting his head at her mockingly.

“Why not here?” You prodded with a smirk, your foot finding his calf beneath the table. Joel gave you a chuckle and shook his head. “Oh, come on. Please?”

“Ya know, I pride myself on my ability to not cave into peer pressure,” he retorted with a quirked eyebrow, daring you to challenge him. You bit your lip and looked down at your plate, too flustered by everything him to look him in the eyes—especially given the current company.

“So, Sarah, how are you likin’ the whole dad datin’ your teacher thing?” Tommy asked, and the question earned the attention of the entire table.

“I don’t mind it,” she shrugged. “Maybe I would if it was Mrs. Clarkson from last year.”

“God,” Joel shook his head at the mere idea. “That woman terrified me and I’m a grown man.”

“Oh,” Sarah called your name. “Did you tell dad about Michael?”

“Michael? Who’s…uh, who’s Michael?” Joel’s jealousy was as clear as day, bringing amused grins to almost everyone’s faces aside from the ever stoic Mr. Miller.

“Michael is my student,” you clarified and eased his concern. “A shitty student at that.”

“Oh yeah?” Tommy asked with a chuckle.

“Yeah, he’s—well, I guess I probably shouldn’t be saying this around you, Sarah.”

“I promise I won’t talk about it,” she replied earnestly and you easily caved.

“He is just the absolute worst. And his parents are even shittier,” you lamented with a laugh. “Today he came up to me while Sarah and I were talking at the end of class, and flat out told me that he wasn’t going to be doing the reading log during the break because his mom said so.”

“Why doesn’t he just fake it like everybody else?” Tommy chimed in but quickly received an elbow from his niece.

“I don’t fake my reading logs,” she corrected.

“Yeah…right.” He gave her a sarcastic nod and turned back to you. “I’m just speaking from experience. I never did any of that shit and I turned out…well, I turned out decent.”

“Yeah. Maybe I am being too demanding,” you shrugged, turning back to your plate.

“No,” Joel was quick to interject. “Don’t listen to Tommy—he couldn’t even get into community college. You’re the one who went to school for six years to do this. You know what you’re doin’, that kid’s just a prick.”

You couldn’t help but fall in love with him a little bit as he stood up for you, his foot pressed to yours beneath the table acting as a sort of promise that he’d always be here to do this—to remind you of your worth.

“Thank you,” you mouthed just to him. “Anyways, it’s his loss—and yours too, Tommy. Reading is fun.”

Tommy mimicked your smile and chuckled. “I guess I’ll take your word for it.”

“Alright, don’t give your grandma a hard time,” Joel ordered Sarah as he hugged her goodbye in the driveway outside your house.

You watched the scene from the doorway, smiling at the way he swayed her and kissed the top of her head. If only all little girls could grow up with a father like Joel—not flawless, but as close to it as a man could get. There was no denying his love for her and vice versa, and the fact that you were being let into this beautiful family felt like nothing less than an honor.

“Alright, go on,” he ruffled the top of her hair with a playful grin. “I love ya, and I’ll see you Sunday night, alright?”

“Love you too,” she gave him one more hug before turning to you standing up the walkway. With a wave, she wished you goodbye as well, your smile widening at the gesture. “See you!”

“See ya, Sarah!”

Joel met you by the front door and watched Tommy and Sarah pull out of your driveway before he turned to you with an anticipatory grin.

“Well, just us now,” he husked, playfulness thick in his southern drawl.

“Whatever will we do?” you teased, hooking your fingers in his belt loops and tugging him closer.

Joel cradled your cheek and jaw with both hands as he leaned down to kiss you, both of you still wearing your grins through it. Walking you backwards into the house, you giggled into his mouth as you nearly stumbled over before he caught you.

“Clumsy,” he accused in a rasp.

“Your fault,” you countered and he laughed against you.

Joel’s hands traveled to your hips to keep you flush against him as he kicked the front door shut, your smiles fading as the kiss deepened into something so filthy even the humor of the almost-fall couldn’t penetrate it.

“God,” he groaned against your lips as he continued walking you through the living room to your bedroom. “I want you so bad, baby girl. Fuck.”

“Remember what we were talking about earlier?” you purred against his jaw as your kisses trailed down to his neck, Joel’s body pinning you against your open bedroom door. He hummed against you in confirmation and you smiled, taking one of his hands off your waist to guide it beneath the linen of your dress, his breath ragged as his fingertip grazed over your thighs until they reached the soaked lace of your panties. “This is what you do to me, Joel.”

“Jesus fuckin—baby, I need you,” he whimpered and sunk to the floor in front of you, his dark and dreamy eyes peering up at you for permission as he lifted the hem of your dress up. “Can I taste you?”

“God, you never have to ask,” you moaned back, taking the fabric bunched in his hands and holding it for him. Joel’s eyes dropped from yours down to the image right in front of him, his tongue swiping along his bottom lip at the sight of your white lace thong.

“You’re gonna make me lose my mind, baby,” he groaned again, his hands now running up and down the outside of your thighs.

The anticipation could have killed you, your chest heaving and skin prickling with chills from the simple sensation of his breath fanning over the wet spot on your panties, the lust in his eyes. Combing your fingers through his hair, you attempted to silently urge him on and he seemed to pick up on it, his hands sliding back up to your hips to hook into the tiny band of your underwear and slip them down your legs until they were kicked off.

“Baby,” he cooed as you draped one of your knees over his broad shoulders to open yourself up to him, his mouth watering at the sight. “I’m never gonna wanna do anythin’ else but stay right—“ He placed a kiss to your mound and your entire body jerked. “Here.”

His tongue swiped through your folds and you melted against the door behind you, your fingers gripping his hair now as you struggled to stay upright. Joel practically growled at your taste, his hands gripping your thighs as if he was holding on for dear life.

“Fuck,” you moaned as he tensed his tongue to circle your swollen bud until your arousal started to drip down your thighs. “That’s so good.”

Your praise earned you another growl, his tongue now flicking and circling, lapping and sucking against you until your thighs were shaking from the pressure building in your lower stomach.

“Tastes so fuckin’ sweet, baby girl.” He sucked your clit and made you cry out his name. “Yeah, just like that. Keep sayin’ my name, baby. Let everyone know.”

“Joel, fuck!” Your orgasm was imminent, the tingling in your thighs that traveled down to your toes and back up your spine fogging any sense of coherency you may have once had in his presence. “I—fuck, I—“

“I know, baby. Can taste it.” He shook his head and flattened his tongue against your clit, his eyes meeting with yours. You wanted to cry, but the pleasure you were feeling was too consuming. The only thing you could do as Joel sucked your now throbbing bud into his mouth was to cry out his name like a prayer—some sort of wicked salvation that beat out any other holier counterpart. “Come on, baby. Cum on my tongue. Wanna taste it…every fuckin’ drop—“

“Fuck!” You crumpled to the ground, your back sliding against the door until you were kneeling with him on the floor, your body shuddering as you rode out the waves of your euphoria.

Joel was quick to act, guiding you down onto your back while you were still lost in bliss. He kissed your face as if you were his most prized possession, his hands worshipping the curves of your still-clothed body.

“Need you, baby,” he whispered against your jaw as he placed a love bite there, your head nodding to give him consent to do whatever the fuck he wanted to do to you after that mind blowing climax he just gave you.

You only heard the clinking of his belt buckle before feeling his cock stretch you open, a choked cry slipping from your lips in time with Joel’s wanton groan. You peeled your eyes open and looked down at the place you were joined, delighting in the fact that neither of you were undressed, the neediness of the moment turning you both feral.

“God damn,” he groaned and let his head hang as he stilled himself deep inside of you after only a few thrusts. “About to embarrass myself. You feel too fuckin’ good, baby.”

“Don’t worry about lasting long,” you stroked his beard. “I just wanna feel you.”

“God, I—” He choked on his words and leaned over your body, propping himself up by his elbows on either side of your head. You wrapped your legs around his waist and dug your heels into his jean-clad ass to urge him on, desperate to feel him spill inside of you.

“Want you to cum for me,” you moaned, pressing kisses into the side of his face as he buried his head in the crook of your neck. “Cum inside me—“

“Fuck,” he shouted as his cock thrust into you faster and deeper, your wetness squelching around him and filling the room along with both of your ragged moans. “I’m gonna—fuck, baby. You sure?”

“I’m on birth control, it’s okay,” you promised. Joel lifted his head to look into your eyes, his face scrunched up in something akin to agony but you were sure it couldn’t have been further from it.

“Gonna fill you up, beautiful,” he leaned down and pressed his lips against yours. “Gonna have you dripping for me.”

“Yes!” His cock was hitting something inside of you that was making you see stars, your mind going back to that pleasure-dumb state you’d just been lost in, and before you had time to warn him, your walls fluttered in time with his cock spilling inside of you. “I’m coming, Joel, fuck!”

“Me too, baby,” he choked out through a string of profanity and moans. “Fuck, so fuckin’—you’re perfect.”

The two of you stayed there for a while, both of you turned into puddles of post-climactic bliss as you laid in each other’s arms. Joel hissed as he pulled out and rolled over onto the carpet beside you, both of you turning your heads to look at each other with wide, almost childlike grins.

“Be my girlfriend?” Joel choked out, nerves thick in his shaky voice. You laid there speechless for a moment, unsure of how to tell him that ever since you met him you’d been dreaming of the day those words would leave his lips. So, you kept it simple, a smile gracing your face as you reached over to hold his face.

“I would love to.”

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal fluff #joel miller #joel miller fluff #joel miller x y/n #joel miller x reader #joel miller x reader smut #joel miller fic #joel miller reader insert #joel miller smut #joel miller x you #tlou joel #joel tlou #tlou fanfiction #elementary

2K notes · View notes

tinycozycomfort · 7 months

Text

trust fall

pairing: jackson era!joel miller x f!reader

day two of @pascalisbaby and i's joeltober: fluid exchange -> read her day two here

summary: This, that was a shy thing at first, set into motion by some passing remark you’d made all those months ago—that he would do anything for you if you just asked nice enough.

warnings/tags: pwp!, fluid exchange (come eating/spitting), oral sex (f receiving), anal play, dirty talk, mention of unprotected piv, dom/sub dynamics, pet names (honey, sweetheart, etc), praise kink, edging

word count: 1.6k

rating: explicit! 18+ only, mdni

a/n: arguably the filthiest thing i've ever written (nervous) but wow was it great practice. thank you for reading!

main masterlist

“What a mess. Who’s gonna clean all this up, sweetheart?”

He’s thumbing at the crease of your thigh where it folds into your core, pulling against the bend so that your seam widens. You can feel him looking, each cool swing of his breath fanning over the heat at your center. The slow trickle of where he leaks out of you makes your skin tighten, shrinking uncomfortably over muscle in little welts.

Joel doesn’t take well to your lack of focus, choosing to demand your attention instead; the press of his thumb turns harder, meeting the end of his pointer to pinch. The pain is instant, but the delay from your haze makes you skip a yelp all together, straight to words like he wants.

“I’ll clean myself.”

He hums, releasing your flesh, petting the wound where it thrums, “Now how can you reach all the way down here?”

You know this game well—where he means to reduce you to less than incapable, framing it like you’ve lost your way after what he’s just done to you. He wants to act like he can help you, when in reality it’s done to service himself, only further fueling his need to be in control—a role that toes the line between offender and caretaker. He aches to relinquish you of every responsibility, even that of thought.

Joel swipes at the come that refuses to let up where it’s dripping out, making a slow show—one that only he can see and only you can feel—of gathering and pooling and reinserting it, just to watch it slip out again.

“I-I don’t know. But I need to get clean.”

He’s smiling something horrible, eyes shining when you gaze down to plead your case for assistance.

“Oh, poor thing, I know. It’s not your fault,” he dips his thumb into you before trailing up just under the bead of skin above your opening, “There’s just so much. But you’re right, we can’t have you ruining the sheets.” Joel bares his teeth again when you hiss, narrowly missing your clit when you try to maneuver your way into his hand.

You pant, barely able to piece together your cue, “How?”

“Hard to think after the way I fucked you, hm?” He brushes his free hand across the hill of your cheek, pitiful, as he shakes his head in mock disbelief, “I guess I could help you, sweetheart. Do you want that?”

“Yes.”

“Yes?”

“Yes, please.”

“There she goes. My polite girl. Same one who begged for all this mess in the first place—isn’t that right?”

You can’t bear to try and find the words, just letting your head loll to the side so you can nod without the pain of keeping your neck straight. He’s unraveling your grip thread by thread so you can become the soft, helpless thing he needs you to be.

He shoves himself down, ducks his head to be level with your cunt, the hot vent of air around his face bleeding onto you. He’s worked up—you know it from the delicate shudder in his hands, the uneven half-steps in his breathing—and while he swears he can’t, you wish he’d fuck you again. You wriggle, back flat to the bed and knees spreading instinctively.

Joel starts at the slip of skin separating your cunt from what sits beneath it, careful to catch what he couldn’t collect on the last sweep. His mouth is warm and his tongue gentle, but the breath it punches out of you is hard—furious.

You’re humming high in your throat, past the point of well-mannered, and he’s delighted, slipping the muscle between his lips inside of you, tilting his head just enough so that his nose can’t touch where you’re throbbing for him most.

You beg, “Joel. Joel, please,” rolling the knobs of your spine forcefully enough to sting, trying uselessly to make contact. He huffs, forearm mashing haphazardly against the curve of your hip, flustered.

“You don’t need it, honey. Now keep still.”

You’re full-on whining now, little pieces of sound, reedy and loud and not enough to make him feel bad, apparently.

He nestles himself back in, the wide flat of his tongue pressing hard enough to breach your hole, spooning out everything you saved for him inside you and you start to seethe, a thin film of sweat breaking out across your chest—boiling.

The hand you haven’t felt in a while returns to a different place, the tips of his pointer and middle brushing under where he’s eating you, the hole there wet with whatever continues to evade his mouth.

He circles it and you fidget, begging him for anything more, the slow working of his jaw not enough to bring you to the edge.

There’s the other half of the game—if you can’t come before he’s deemed you clean, you don’t get to at all.

A sticky curl of love swells in your belly at how familiar you are now with this routine, how far he’s come—peeling away enough of his distance to show his face, to bring you to this. This, that was a shy thing at first, set into motion by some passing remark you’d made all those months ago—that he would do anything for you if you just asked nicely enough.

Joel’s uncovered desire to see you need him, beg for him, just to make him relent in your favor, was intoxicating. In turn, he continues to make it harder every time for you both, upping the stakes after you barely manage to satisfy his last demand; narrow wins that remind you of just how much power he holds. Always sweet and comforting and protecting, even if from the severity of himself.

Your stomach clenches, trying frantically to pace your breaths, to focus on the feeling of every too-long pass that has him nudging the underside of your clit, the way his fingers tease against your asshole. He hums in warning, almost done, and you knock a fist against the bed in frustration.

He pulls away suddenly and your shoulders cave, upset by his unwarned finish, and you’re ready to apologize within an inch of your life when he pipes up.

“Am I not enough for you, honey? You liked my cock, plenty. Why can’t you do it for my mouth, too?”

“Joel. Joel, you are—you’re enough. I just– right now I need more.”

“No, you don’t. And I’m not going to tell you again. Now—” he uses the hand not already playing with you to dig into the meat of your thigh, nails drawn, maybe a little upset by how many words you’ve managed despite his ministrations, “Make me happy.”

He sways low again, the return of his mouth against-underneath-inside of you making your hands curl, a warm buzz floating up through your legs and forearms to meet together in the middle. He’s fervent, determined to prove you wrong now that you’ve challenged his ability and you’re squealing, so light-headed from the effort to breathe that you’re close to stopping all together.

Joel feeds his lip between his teeth against you reflexively, like he’s trying to hold himself back for a moment, and the idea that he’s gearing up for a long night makes you heave.

He tries to hide his tell, taking the quickest pause to spit onto his fingers, prodding at your asshole to divert your attention, hardly sliding in as to not give you more than you’ve earned, “Don’t get ahead of yourself, now. Haven’t worked for much of anything yet.”

“But–”

“Show me you can be good, first. Shouldn’t be so hard for you, honey, c’mon.” He inches closer once more, breathing out against you, alternating between little puffs of cold exhales and firm pants of hot air.

You writhe, so pent up you feel restricted by your own body, like climbing out from a pool fully-clothed—heavy and sopping and always tipping back with resistance. Your face is on fire, fingers twisting to try and take the brunt of your need to move.

Joel is ecstatic—you can hear the wet slide of his grin—and you’re right at the cusp of giving in when he breaks the gap, hot mouth latching onto your clit and you’re gone. You can feel it spread the length of your core first, filling out quickly to everywhere else and you jolt, legs snapping together fast enough that your knees knock above his head.

He repositions his hands, squeezing between them to pry you open. You wedge a wrist behind you, trying to lift yourself in an effort to stop him but when you peer down, the look on his face is serene, pleading. An exercise in trust maybe—that he’s acquainted enough with your body to know your limit.

You let yourself rest again and inhale deep, letting him work you down to a stop, the feeling of overstimulation falling into a wash of fuzzy static . Only after you unfold does Joel remove himself, pressing light kisses to the peak of your hip bone on his way up—proud.

He leans over your torso, his chest parallel, the damp rub of your skin setting your heart off as you breathe in tandem. Selfishly, you scrabble a bit, wanting desperately to have more claim on his body.

“Hey, hey. Shh. No need to do all that. I’m right here for you.” Joel gathers up your palm between his fingers, sliding your limp knuckles over his cheeks, the little curve of his lip. A moment passes and you reclaim ownership of it, caressing the underside of his jaw faintly.

“Was I good?” you whisper.

“So good. See, I knew you could do it.”

He nudges at the band of rib under your breast, “Maybe even a little too good—looking very empty now, sweetheart. What do you think we oughta do about that?”

#joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #tlou fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller/reader #kinktober #kinktober 2023

765 notes · View notes

sweetercalypso · 11 months

Note

Please can you write about being catcalled when you’re with Joel? Like what do you think he would do?

wc: 0.7k cw: threats/slight violence, suggestive comments

Life in Jackson is quiet.

It’s reminiscent of a time that not many remember. Fit with a heavy artillery of patrolmen and a clinic and a working bar, Jackson made it easy to pretend that danger was no longer a concern.

Some of the men in the community weren’t so well-adjusted to easy living, and learned to find the familiarity of violence wherever they possibly could.

Walking back from Tommy’s house one evening, you’re reminded of how pervasive the threat of humanity can be.

Joel leads you home after dinner with his family. Ellie had stayed behind at Maria and Tommy’s with promises of hot chocolate and a new book that Tommy had procured on patrol the week before. You’re wrapped around Joel’s arm, giggling at whatever nonsense story he was murmuring into the quiet air when a sharp whistle kills the hazy warmth of the night.

Standing alone in the pale-yellow light of a streetlamp, one of the men from a group of newcomers stares darkly at you and Joel as the two of you pass by. His eyes had been stalking you from the time you turned the corner, like he was waiting for the perfect time to make his move.

“Lookin’ good, baby. I’d love to get a piece of that ass.”

Joel stops dead in his tracks like he’d been scorned by the man’s words. It was obvious the stranger was looking to pick a fight, and Joel was not the type to let a remark like that go.

“The fuck did he just say-”

“Ignore ‘em, Joel. He’s just trying to rile you up.”

Your grip on Joel’s sleeve tightens to give the man a chance to reconsider. Maybe he didn’t mean to offend you and he’d apologize. Maybe he’d realize who Joel was and he’d run away. Maybe –

“Let me know when the old man croaks, sweetheart. I’ll show you how a real man takes care of a pretty thing like you.”

Joel whips around abruptly with rage in his eyes and tears his arm out of your grasp before you even realize what’s happening.

He pounces on the man and grabs him by the collar, pushing him backwards until he smacks into the wall of the building behind him.

“Shut the fuck up,” Joel snarls.

He slams his hand against the faded brick, barely missing the side of the man’s face with his palm. Too stunned by the scene playing out in front of you, you’re frozen where you stand in the middle of the street.

Realizing that he had made a mistake, the man puts his hands up in surrender, opening his mouth to speak when Joel cuts him off.

“If I hear another word out of your mouth, I’ll knock your head clean off your shoulders. You got that?”

He nods frantically, clearly aware that he’s not in the position to argue.

“Don’t ever talk about my girl like that again – or any woman here, for that matter. This ain’t the kinda place where people let that slide.”

Barely an inch separates the two men as Joel barks abuse at the creep until he’s red in the face. It’s been a long time since you’ve seen him this upset.

“You so much as look at her again and you’re dead. D’you hear me?”

The man shakes his head in acknowledgement, too stunned to respond.

Joel yanks him forward and away from the wall, almost throwing him to the ground from the rough force he uses. He holds the man at arm’s length, speaking loudly enough for you to hear him where you stand a couple paces away. “Good. Now tell her you’re sorry.”

The man meets your gaze over Joel’s jacket clad shoulder, stammering through his dazed apology. “M’sorry, ma’am. Won’t happen again.”

Joel releases him with a rough shove and backs away nodding. “You’re damn right.”

He walks backwards until he’s beside you again, your hand slinking under his outer layer to rest securely over his chest.

“My hero,” you tease, pressing a kiss to his cheek as the two of you continue your journey back home.

Watching over his shoulder as the the stranger staggers into the night, Joel mutters under his breath,

“I’d rather deal with the damn clickers.”

#lovely anons #calypso writes #Joel Miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller drabble #joel miller hurt/comfort #joel miller fluff #joel x reader #joel x you #joel x y/n #the last of us #tlou #joel tlou #the last of us x reader #pedro pascal x reader

2K notes · View notes

chaotic-mystery · 1 year

Note

Face sitting or maybe face riding with Joel 🤤

Him just in between saying like “oh yeah- like that baby… just like that, keep going”

(A/N: …you nasty slut…I loved this ;) )

The movie your dad chose was still playing in the background as you and Joel were having small talk on the couch, but he was sitting oh so far away from you. Your dad fell asleep an hour into the movie after protesting he could stay up and watch the full thing. You got up to refill the popcorn bowl that was currently just kernels when you felt a squeeze on your ass. “Stop it before you wake him up” you mouthed silently and pointed at your lightly snoring dad, your eyes never leaving the grinning man leaning over the couch to grab you. As you opened the new popcorn packet in the kitchen, you heard your dads recliner close and then him talking to Joel. “Sorry buddy I’m just beat. Were you guys still watching it? I’ll just leave it for you to finish if you want and she can walk ya out when it’s done.” A smile formed on your face at the mere idea of being alone with him again. More words were shared and your dad leaned against the kitchen archway. “I told Joel I’m going to bed, but you guys finish the movie by all means. Just make sure you lock the door behind ya when you guys leave, alright honey? I love ya” and with that he was walking up the steps to his room. “Night dad!” You shouted up the stairway and made your way back to the gorgeous man you left for popcorn neither one of you really wanted.

“C’mere baby, bring your sexy ass here” his words were so seductive but sweet. He pats his lap and with a swift move you’re straddling him, arms wrapped around his neck. “I’ve been waiting to kiss you since you planted one on me earlier behind your daddy’s back. God damn this skirt looks so fuckin good on you baby doll, i just wanna put you on my face and let ya ride until ya cum” he said before he kissed your neck and bit you gently. “You want me to sit on your face?” You asked almost in shock that he’d want that. His brows furrowed when he looked at you, like you just offended him somehow. “Are you kiddin’ me darling? I wanna have to tap your thigh to get air, other than that i want you planted on my face” The impure thoughts came flooding to your mind as well as your panties, and god did it turn you on just thinking about Joel begging you for air underneath you. “So lay back then baby, let me see what you got” teasing him, you got up and let him reposition himself so there was room on both sides of his head for your knees to be planted. He ripped of your panties before you could and ran a finger against your slick folds. “Fuck me, I’m gonna enjoy this” As you hovered over him, he couldn’t help but stare at your glistening pussy. You’ve never had someone worship you like Joel and damn were you loving it. Grabbing your hips and pulling you down on him, the moans left his mouth and vibrated against you.

His tongue was working on your clit and he pulled it between his lips, making a sucking sound before he let go and flicked his tongue on it again. “Yeah, that’s my girl. So turned on watchin me suck your pussy huh, baby?” he mumbled and pulled you onto him even more, applying more pressure. Your hand covered your mouth to muffle the moans you were fighting to keep low enough for just the two of you to hear. Your breathing getting heavier, he reached up and pulled one of your breasts out of your shirt, toying with the hard nipple between his fingers. “You taste so fuckin good pretty girl, this pussy is mine, ya hear?” The fifth coated words went straight through your ears and down to your clit, you could yourself pulsing against his mouth. “Joel p-please I’m gonna cum baby- don’t s-stop” you couldn’t even keep your sentence together without moans slipping between words, and he groaned at the thought of getting you close. “Finish yourself off baby doll, keep going just like I told you.” Looking down at his lustful eyes, he gave you a nod to start riding. Bucking your hips slowly, you began to move your hips back and forth and could feel his tongue working against you. You arched your back as your breathing became deeper and faster, your orgasm building in the pit of your stomach. “Come on baby just like that cum all over my fucking face like the little slut you love being for me” the words were like music to your ears and you moved faster and faster until you felt yourself unravel on him. He held you down to keep going as he lapped up your cum, covering his beard with your slick. His head shook from side to side as he eased his grip on you, soft laughs coming from the man under you. Panting and whimpering, you were trying to get your thoughts together. Joel was the only man who could make your ears ring from an orgasm hitting so hard.

#joel miller #the last of us #dbf!joel #joel tlou #joel miller drabble #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #pedro pascal #dbf! joel smut #joel miller x f!reader #pedro pascal x you

1K notes · View notes

toxicanonymity · 10 months

Text

midnight blow

3.3k / slasher!Joel x f!reader | slasher masterlist

beautiful slasher!Joel art by @bonezone44 💙

joel master / SLASHER JOEL MASTER

Can read alone w/ recap below.

RECAP (midnight tow): You were DTF with your tow truck driver Joel, then you offended him and he almost killed you just because. You fucked for your life and promised him a bj. Now instead of strangling you and shredding your car, Joel is taking you home--just for the night, he claims.

SUMMARY: Joel takes you back to his camper and you suck him off, then go to bed with him where you find a way to take control of the whole situation and make your getaway.

WARNINGS: I8 plus, spanking, hair pulling, oral m receiving, ball sucking, face fcking, degradation, somnophilia, dubcon unsafe P in V, creampie, riding, jacking off, implicit threat of violence, the tables turn, joel is a serial killer. NO Y/N.

dividers by @gasolinerainbowpuddles

Joel drives the tow truck deep into his sprawling, dilapidated property. You’re straddling him the whole time, with his cum trickling out of you and onto his coveralls. He opens the window and you enjoy the breeze. Your dress is pressed up against his dirty white tshirt. Your head is over his shoulder facing the back of the truck. You said you wanted to suck his cock, and you guess that’s what you’re going to do. Yeah, you’re letting him take you to a second location, but it feels like an improvement after having a ligature around your neck thirty minutes ago. You’re going to have to suck it so good he falls into a coma so you can make your escape.

By the time the tow truck rolls to a stop, Joel is getting hard again beneath you, and his hips are moving, grinding into you. He cuts off the engine and puts his hands on your thighs. You pull your head back to look at him. A toothpick rests between his teeth. He grabs it out of his mouth with his thumb and forefinger and says, “you’re a damn good time, sugar. Lucky for you,” before throwing it out the window and returning both hands to your thighs.

His hands slide to your ass, his hips lift into you again, and he says “Mmm.” He tilts his head back against the headrest, falls into a trance and brings his fingers to your cheek. He thumbs your bottom lip and you let your jaw fall open. He wets his lips and murmurs, “you look thirsty, sweetheart. C’mon.”

Joel pulls the handle of the truck door and pushes it open for you. You’ve learned your lesson, and when you climb down, you stand there obediently. It’s still dark out, and you’re parked right at the treeline in front of a small camper. There are party lights strung outside the camper and a blue volvo parked next to it. It’s impossible to tell how dense the woods are or how far the trees go back.

Joel hops down from the tow truck and mumbles, “good girl. smart, too. nowhere to run.” He gestures toward the camper and you obediently walk in front of him. As soon as you’re in front of him, he slaps your ass and says “Ouch!” for you.

When you get to the door, he reaches around you to open it. It isn’t locked. You go inside and to the right where there’s a kitchen area. You stand awkwardly with your arms crossed and look toward him. There’s a sad old sofa with a folding tray in front of it and the cardboard from a Hunger Man meal. The windows are tilted open, and the camper smells faintly of sweat and cigarettes.

As soon as he gets inside, he reaches over his shoulders to pull his dirty t-shirt off over his back and discards it. Then he looks down at the crotch of his jumpsuit and slowly rubs the sticky dark blotch that rests over his hardening cock. “Now look at this mess you made. Must’a stretched you out good.” He looks at you and his face hardens as he tells you, “Sit down,” and points at the sofa. You sit on the old sofa, grateful to be alive, and he disappears into the restroom. There’s a tv across from the sofa.

The water turns on and off a few times, and when he comes back, he’s in dark blue joggers with no shirt. His torso is solid, tan, with only a little chest hair and a happy trail. He’s built, with a little bit of a belly. His arms are hulking. He goes to the refrigerator, pulls out a five pack of beer, and un-rings two of them. He hands one to you as he sits down. He wants to hang out.

He asks you what kind of tv you like. You say reality tv, the first thing that comes to mind.

“No shit,” he nods with a contemplative frown. You sit there and drink your beer, pretending to watch a kitchenware infomercial he seems genuinely fixated on. When your beer’s empty, you put it on the tv dinner stand next to his can and look at him. You’ll never have more liquid courage, so you might as well make a move.

You scoot toward him and put your hand on his closest knee then drag your fingers up his thigh.

He tears his eyes away from the tv and whispers darkly. “There’s my sex kitten."

You massage his inner thigh, getting closer and closer to his cock, watching the bulge in his joggers grow. Then you run your hand over it.

You press your palm into his hard manhood, sliding over the fabric, only moving an inch in either direction as you apply pressure. Then you cradle it with your fingers.

His breath deepens. “Oh you’re purrin’ for it, aren’t ya, kitty.”

You nod.

He drags the TV dinner table out of the way without standing up. “On your knees.”

You get on the floor between his legs and he watches with a scowl as you continue massaging him. The flickering blue light of the tv illuminates him. Your knuckles dig into his lower belly as you hook the fingers of each hand into his waistband.

You pull his cock out, then he holds it by the base.

With his other hand, he reaches between the couch cushion and armrest and fondles a black plastic object. When he sees you eyeing it, he pulls it up out of the couch and a blade emerges. A large knife. He takes his hand away from his shaft and presses the point of the knife into one of his fingertips, admiring the blade as your hands wrap around his cock.

You get up on your knees and lower your head into his lap. When you inhale, his musk sends a pang between your legs. You quickly suck his tip into your mouth. He continues to admire the blade, now just inches from your head. You suck him thirstily, making good on your claim that you really wanted his cock in your mouth. He sighs as you take as much of him into your mouth as you can. He sits back and holds the knife on the armrest. You take his length down your throat. His girth is challenging. Your jaw quickly begins to get sore. You bob your head, slurping and sucking hard with your lips curled over your teeth.

He puts one hand on your head and with the other he fidgets with the knife on the arm of the chair. He moans and you glance up to see his head resting back against the cushion with his eyes closed.

You take the opportunity to glance around to see what you could use for your escape or self-defense. You rotate your knees and change angles so you can better survey the RV for a flashlight or weapon.

He grabs you by the hair and makes you look up at him. “What the hell are you doin’?” He pulls your head off his cock.

You shake your head, “nothing, just curious.”

“Well, get curious about my balls.” He pulls the waistband under his balls and glares at you.

“oh my god,” you whisper with your eyes wide, admiring his cock and balls together.

He nods slowly. You cradle his balls in one hand and take his cock all the way into your mouth with the other, getting it wet for your hand. Then you slowly stroke his shaft while turning your mouth’s attention to his balls. You lick up the seam of his scrotum and he shudders. “Fuck, woman.”

You swirl your tongue around one ball before taking it into your mouth. It really is a mouthful. You suck his ball and stroke his cock and glance up to see his stomach rising and falling, nudging your pinky. He groans as you suck. You give the other one some attention. He shifts under you and you glance at his cock to see precum leaking from his tip.

You try taking both into your mouth at the same time, but it’s too much. He laughs at you. Then you start sucking again and his face darkens. You trail your tongue down and tease his taint. His balls tighten. You lick where they meet his cock, then drag your tongue all the way up to the head and take him into your mouth again. He pulls your head down on his cock again and again. “Fuck, yeah, fuck, oh god” then he twitches between your lips. He slams your head down with his tip at the back of your throat and breathes, “Oh fuck you, kitten,” before exploding into your throat with a groan.

You choke on his cum, but he doesn't let you take your head off his cock yet. Your eyes water and he shakes his head at you, then closes his eyes, emptying the last of his load.

Finally, he releases your head and you let him out of your mouth.

You cough and cough, then you thank him. He stares at you. “For letting me suck your cock,” you clarify. One side of his mouth curls upward and he looks at you darkly.

He tucks himself back into his pants, then holds the knife in his hand and touches the point to a finger, admiring it again. You’re still collecting yourself when he furrows his brow and says, “I dunno if I’m gonna need this. What do you think?”

You shake your head no.

He looks at you skeptically. “long as you're here, you gimme what I want, when I want it.”

“Yeah,” you nod. “But-” He wraps his fingers around the handle.

You continue, “but what about when I want it?”

His face softens in amusement. “Oh-ho-ho, you really are a slut, aren’t ya?”

---

Joel puts the knife down, stands up, and stretches his arms behind his back. His bulge presses out against his joggers as his broad chest juts into the air. His triceps flex behind him. Then he stretches an arm over his head and you get a whiff of his sweat.

“Clothes off," he commands.

You remove your dress and he motions for you to go in front of him. "Shower."

It's a tiny bathroom. He makes you sit on the shower floor while he cleans himself. You hug your knees and watch the gray water go down the drain as he washes away the day. You look up at his hulking quads as he lathers his pubic hair with a bar of soap. He grumbles, "whole bar just to get the whore off me." He puts the soap in the hanging shower caddy.

After showering, Joel dries off then makes you use the same towel. You’re about to put your dress back on when he says, “you’re in luck. just did laundry.” He hands you a light blue laundry bag half-full of clean but wrinkled clothes. You rifle through it and your stomach turns. There are women’s clothes mixed in with his. Different sizes, some of them ripped and stained. You freeze and stare at a crop top with a short cut on the breast and a brown stain around it.

Joel loses patience and asks, “God damn, is it that hard?” He snatches the bag from you. He takes out a heather gray t-shirt and shoves it up against your chest. It has a zombie in sneakers and says The Running Dead 5k. “Heh,” Joel laughs when you hold it out to look at it. There's an open gash down one side of the chest and a brown stain around the collar. When you put it on, your nipple peeks through the gash.

"Shorts?" You ask.

He shakes his head no, then begins to walk back across the camper and picks up his knife from the sofa. "Bed," he says and nods toward it. His bed is notched into the wall at the end of the camper. He follows you to it then grips the back of your neck, still holding the knife with the same hand so the plastic digs into your neck.

He lifts the mattress and pulls out a pair of handcuffs. "I'm not gonna have to use these, am I?" He chains one of the cuffs to a metal lamp that’s screwed to the wall right above the headboard. He leaves the other cuff dangling open. He lets go of your neck to swat the dangling cuff with the point of the knife, then wedges the knife between the mattress and the headboard and abruptly grabs you by the neck again.

He bends you over the bed, pulls his hand back, and slaps your bare ass so hard it’s sure to leave a handprint. "Asked you a question.”

“No, I’m gonna stay right here. You don’t need those.”

“Don't try anything," he warns. Then he pulls his hand back again and slaps you harder on the same cheek. Your ass tingles then it fades to numb. He lowers his voice. "Or you're not gettin’ home tomorrow."

"Okay," you whimper.

"Good girl." He lets you go with a shove and you land face-down on his blue flannel sheets.

“Shit, I’m bein’ selfish, right? Not returnin' the favor?”

He makes you get in bed first so he's blocking you in.

“Maybe I’ll give it to ya in your sleep,” he says. “Bet ya’d like that."

You nod.

"Yeah, there’s my sex kitten. Bet ya can’t get enough'a this.” He lewdly grabs the bulge in his joggers before getting into bed behind you.

While you’re sleeping, Joel slips his hand between your legs. He feels how wet you are and whispers to himself, “oh get the fuck over here” as he gently rolls you onto your back.

He spreads your thighs and gets between them, He feels your cunt again and breathes, “fuck me, sweetheart.” The next thing you feel is his stomach against yours, then his tip at your entrance. You’re disoriented, still not really awake as he shoves himself into you. You sigh but your eyes stay closed. He pulls back then slams into you and bottoms out. It feels like a vivid dream. He grunts and pants as he pounds you. He must have been at it for a while already because his sweat is dripping onto you. Your mouth falls open with a moan and a salty drop lands right on your tongue. You open your eyes with a sigh.

“Fuck yeah, harder," you pant.

He tries his best but he’s already fucking you as hard as he can, and he’s nearly spent.

“Let me ride you,” you beg. “Wanna ride this big cock again. Swallow it whole with my cunt”

He slows his hips. “God damn you got a mouth on you.”

“Please.”

“Whatever,” he sighs as he pulls out of you and lays down on his back. He holds his cock at the base as you straddle him and align yourself over it. His eyes fixate on your nipple poking out of the shirt.

You take his tip slowly, then abruptly sink down onto him. “Ohhh, Joel,” you sigh.

“Yeah, you’re welcome,” he mutters, still catching his breath.

You ride him vocally, and put your hands above his shoulders. His hands are planted on your hips. When you come, you fold your body forward, discreetly grabbing the knife as you groan in pleasure.

“Come inside me,” you breathe, and begin rolling your hips again. “Fill me up.”

“Oh, fuck,” he pants and pinches his eyes shut. Then he pulses inside you and groans as he comes. You bring the knife to your thigh, then get off his cock.

“No,” he sighs. Then you take his cock in your hand and press the flat of the blade against his pubic hair. “What the fuck!” he gasps. “Hold on, hold on,” he begs.You press the edge of the knife against the base of his shaft. “Look, I’m sorry about the wire and all that.”

“Prove it,” you say. “How do I know you’re not gonna kill me?”

“Cause you’re a damn good fuck.”

“Cuff yourself.” You nod toward the handcuffs dangling from the lamp. He hesitates and you tighten your grip on the knife. “Don’t think I won’t. Why wouldn’t I?”

“Okay, okay.” To your astonishment, he actually cuffs himself to the lamp.

Mercifully, you take the knife away from his cock. “Where are your keys? The keys to the volvo.”

“On the hook in the kitchen.”

You grab the keys and come back. “Ya know, you’re not a bad fuck yourself. Maybe I should stick around.”

Instead of leaving, you go to the sofa and turn the tv back on. Something possesses you to clean his camper for him. You can’t stand to be around the mess, and enjoy exerting control over the environment. Like you’re wrecking his vibe and leaving your lasting touch. You spend an hour cleaning, then come back to the bed where he’s dozing off. You wake him up with a palm on his cock.

You pull his joggers all the way off. “C’mon now, kitten” he whines. Then you straddle him with your naked heat against his semi-hard manhood. He sighs and starts getting harder right away.

“Fuck, you’re wet,” he sighs as you grind against him. “You’re nasty, aren’t ya.”

You nod. He uses his free hand to guide your hips. You make room for your hand and cup his balls. “Tank empty or got a little more?”

“Oh, fuck,” he sighs then looks you up and down. “Reckon I’ve always got more.”

You hover right over his cock and he starts trying to thrust up high enough to fuck you. You let his tip graze you a few times, then decisively sink onto him with a moan and he shudders. You move yourself up and down his cock, lean forward and grind against his pubic bone. “I didn’t think you’d really cuff yourself,” you say. “What are you gonna do if I let you go?”

“Give you a ride home,” he pants under you.

“Hah!” you keep riding him.

“Really.” He begins to grunts as you fuck him.

“Why don’t I believe you?” You slow your hips. You lift yourself up and start to let his cock out of you.

“No,” he groans. “Kitten, wait.”

You sink back down and take his free hand in yours, putting it between your legs. “Make me come.” You sit mostly still on his cock as he works his thumb on your clit until you see stars, strangling him with your walls.

When you’re finished coming, you push yourself off him and he groans at the loss. He begins to jack himself off desperately as he watches you get a pair of shorts out of the laundry bag and put them on.

"Oh bad girl," he shakes his head slowly as he keeps fisting himself. "baaaaad girl."

You leave him naked from the waist down, chained to the lamp with his cock in his hand.

“Told ya it was dangerous out here, sweetheart,” he shouts as the door slams behind you. Then you hear him finish loudly as you unlock the Volvo and get in.

----------------

-----------------

----------------

There will be another part but not right away. Follow for lore and more meanwhile.

Thank you so much for reading and an additional thank you to those who engage out here!! 🖤🖤 It really helps and makes me feel good. It's especially helpful bc i get labeled.

I will go back through my requests including slasher when I can.

There are more dark joels on my joel master list. you can follow @toxicfics and turn on notifications for fic alerts.

to @jazziepascal, diehard slasher!joel fan, don't worry he's not done

All Joel:@ethanhoewke @silkiers @eiviea @evyiione @xdaddysprincessxx @queerly-anxious @chernayawidow @ambassadortotrilliusprime @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @jasminespringtime @romanarose @fandomsfallnomore @djarinxore @blackvelveteen1339 @manazo @wolvesandvampires @taeslarityy @str84pedro @lokanda @kyloispunk @filthfairy @fieryglutenfreechickennoodles @harriedandharassed @moonlightdivine @worhols @fan-fiction-floozy @cutesyscreenname @weddingfairy @pedropascal-whore @spideysimpossiblegirl @feministfanboi @gracieispunk @prettypartyfavor @am-3-thyst @babeincolor @milla-frenchy @switchbladedreamz @within-the-depths @am-3-thyst @may-machin @pedromania91 @sloanexx @paleidiot

@bunnyskisses

#joel miller x reader #dark!joel miller #joel miller fic #serial killer!joel miller #slasher!joel miller #tw dubcon #tw somnophilia #joel miller smut #content label #slasher!joel #slasher!joel ☠️#toxicanonymity ☠️

1K notes · View notes

iamasaddie · 10 months

Text

some rotten man

paring: dark!Joel x f!Reader rating: explicit (18+ minors DNI) word count: 1,2k~ summary: you really never thought you'd need this type of training. a/n: I'm all flavors of fucked up and so is Joel, make sure you check out the warnings before you proceed with reading! Special thanks to the literal love of my life, my emotional support human and beta @bearsbeetsbeskar <;3 warnings: dead dove do not eat; PWP (for real, no plot at all); implied non-con; explicit sexual content; rough oral sex (m receiving); degradation; spitting; face slapping (barely); no use of y/n ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ᴀ ᴡᴏʀᴋ ᴏꜰ ꜰɪᴄᴛɪᴏɴ. ɪ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴄᴏɴᴅᴏɴᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱɪᴛᴜᴀᴛɪᴏɴꜱ ᴅᴇꜱᴄʀɪʙᴇᴅ ɪɴ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴡᴏʀᴋ ɪʀʟ. ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ, ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ꜰᴏʀɢᴇᴛ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴡʀɪᴛɪɴɢ ᴀɴᴅ ʀᴇᴀᴅɪɴɢ ꜰɪᴄᴛɪᴏɴ ɪꜱ ᴀ ᴡᴀʏ ᴏꜰ ʜᴇᴀʟɪɴɢ ᴀɴᴅ ᴘʀᴏᴄᴇꜱꜱɪɴɢ ᴛʀᴀᴜᴍᴀ ꜰᴏʀ ꜱᴏᴍᴇ ᴘᴇᴏᴘʟᴇ, ᴀɴᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ᴄᴀɴɴᴏᴛ ᴅɪᴄᴛᴀᴛᴇ ᴏʀ ᴘᴏʟɪᴄᴇ ʜᴏᴡ ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴅᴏ ɪᴛ ᴀɴᴅ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ᴛʏᴘᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴡᴏʀᴋꜱ ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴄʜᴏᴏꜱᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴄʀᴇᴀᴛᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ᴄᴏɴꜱᴜᴍᴇ. ꜱᴛᴀʏ ꜱᴀꜰᴇ, ᴘʀᴀᴄᴛɪᴄᴇ ᴄᴏɴꜱᴇɴꜱᴜᴀʟ ꜱᴇx ᴀɴᴅ ꜱᴘʀᴇᴀᴅ ʟᴏᴠᴇ.

"Now, my little slut, you're going to open that fucking mouth of yours and I'm going to fuck it until you're so full that my cum gushes out of it. Do you understand me?"

You trembled under the man's towering figure, his bloodied hand gripping your hair so tight that tears started welling up in your red eyes.

"I can't fuckin' hear you, baby girl."

"Ye- yes." You stuttered out and nodded, but didn't do anything else to show your consent.

“Well then what are you waiting for, darlin'? Stick that bratty tongue of yours out."

You opened your mouth, following his command. A deep inhale made your throat dry, but when you saw him pulling his cock out your throat became sandpaper. Joel’s cock was massive even with his height and broad frame. It was big to the point that even under different circumstances you'd find it terrifying. The head was deep dusty pink, slit glistening with beads of precum. He was thick, veins covering the shaft made it look even bigger and more intimidating. You tried to swallow with your tongue still licking air, but your throat just contracted, walls sticking to each other unpleasantly.

"You look hungry, little one,” Joel barked a laugh, “let me help you with that.”

He slapped his dick on your tongue, letting you feel the weight of it, before leaning back and furrowing his brows. Joel looked at you, your pathetic position sent shivers down his spine. There was just this one little thing… Before you could even brace yourself, you felt before seeing him spitting directly onto your tongue, and then putting his cock back where he thought it belonged. “Oh, yeah,” he almost sang with pleasure, “that’s better, isn't it?”

You just stayed still, getting used to the foreign weight in your mouth, the meat of his cock filling you completely even though you saw he wasn't halfway in. His hips rocked violently, the tip hitting the back of your throat and he threw his head back. His moan would be deafening if it didn't drown in the sound of you gagging and coughing. You knew that if you'd had anything to eat in the last few days it'd be already all over him. Reflexively, you pushed back as far as you could with your hands tied behind your back. One second his cock fell out of your mouth, and the next a loud slap and a burning sensation on your left cheek made tears spring out of your eyes.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing, hm?” Joel grabbed your cheeks painfully squeezing them between his fingers and yanked you back so hard that your face met his crotch. “Stupid fucking slut," his hand twisted in your hair, roping it around his fist. “We're just getting started.”

You didn't know if he was offended or excited by your physical reaction, but the next time he snapped his cock into your mouth he went even rougher, keeping you tightly pressed even when you started coughing and suffocating on it.

"You either control your breath or you're gonna die on my fat cock, baby.”

His tone was playful, but by the way he gripped your head you knew he was dead serious. You tried to calculate his rhythm and the intensity of his thrusts to get a small window of opportunity to get some air into your lungs even if the air you breathed was filling you with the man just as much. The heavy odor of his musk and a salty hint of sweat.

With each movement of his hips he filled you a little bit more, you were almost grateful to him for not trying to squeeze his whole dick into your throat in one thrust. You didn't know if minutes passed, or hours, the only thing you felt was the overwhelming thickness of his cock in your throat and the pulsating sensation when he stayed inside it for a moment too long. He moaned, enjoying the feeling of your throat contracting around his aching shaft, trying to violently push it out when he forced it to stay in place.

"Fuck, little one, I might just stay in your throat forever.” He whispered harshly, and it felt like his grip on your head became almost gentle as he let go of your hair and scratched the back of your skull with blunt fingernails.

By the time he pulled his cock out of your mouth you thought this was never going to end. You felt your throat burning, saliva dripping from the corners of your mouth as you tried to catch your breath, tears streamed down your cheeks in an uncontrollable stream.

"Not bad for a first, hm, baby?"

You couldn't answer, vocal chords betraying you, but Joel wasn't one to talk into the void. Once again he grabbed you by the hair, yanking it so hard you could swear he ripped a strand or two as he forced you to make eye-contact with him, his glistening cock a threat in front of your lips. "I asked you a fucking question."

"Yes." Your voice was hoarse and barely above whisper.

"Yes what, slut?"

"Yes, Sir."

Talking hurt even more than swallowing his massive shaft down your throat, it was like sandpaper scraping open wounds. Of course he couldn't pass up an opportunity to mention it.

"Got my little cockslut's throat fucked up, didn't I?" His smile was full of animalistic pride as he tutted and shook his head. Joel reached for your cheek with his hand and you braced yourself for another slap, but only a cruelly gentle caress followed. "It's okay, little one, I have the perfect medicine that's gonna cure all the soreness. Open up," he patted your chin, "come on, fucktoy, I'm not going to repeat myself."

As soon as you opened your trembling lips that were already torn on the edges from his abuse, he was quick to shove his cock inside your warmth. By the way you felt it throb on your tongue as it slid further down your throat, you knew that he was close. The man above you was groaning, with every violent thrust of his hips the rough material of his jeans met your burning skin, making you wince. You felt his hand slowly descend from the back of your head and curl around your throat. It was huge, big enough to easily grab half of your neck. You were barely able to inhale between his thrusts and you were terrified that if he squeezed you a bit harder he'd just end up shooting a load down a corpse's throat. But it wasn't his intention. Instead, he tightened his grip just right to feel his cock down your throat but at the same time not cutting off your air flow completely.

“Ughh,” his groan was primal, reverberating from the depths of his chest and vibrating through all of his body. "Perfect. Fucking. Slut.” Each word was accentuated with a thrust, deeper and deeper, you wouldn’t be surprised if your chin was bruised from his efforts already. He squeezed your throat harder than before and moaned as he could almost feel his thick and salty load dripping down the inside of your throat. When you started thrashing, he finally noticed that your face got dangerously purple from the lack of breathing and pulled out, opting to squeeze your bruised cheeks instead.

"That's it, baby, good job." He cooed with a sick sweetness. "You need some training, but it's okay. We've got all the time in the world, and I'm an excellent teacher."

#joel miller x reader #dark!joel miller #serenaxpedro writes #tlou x reader #tlou fanfiction #dark smut #dark!Joel x reader #iamasaddie fic

738 notes · View notes