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nerdytyrantphantom · 1 year

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shattered but not lonely (joel miller x f!reader)

This is my 2nd request! Hope you love it, anon 💖

request: hey!! could you do joel x reader (maybe smut) where joel gets super protective over the reader after saving them from a dangerous situation?❤️❤️ word count: 3.9k rating: 18+ explicit warning: SMUT. reader was kidnapped by raiders and joel rescues her and they have sweet, sensual reunion sex after she heals. soft!joel, pet names ("sweetheart" "baby"), light mentions of captivity, oral (f receiving), reader gets super fucking wet, joel is very into it, p in v sex (be smart etc.) a/n: my goal with this piece was to write the filthiest yet equally loving/romantic smut possible :o) i hope you like it! also, to the anon who made this request - i have a second (less fluffy) interpretation of this prompt i plan to post in the near future :) p.s. title is from the song "my favorite book" by stars

“Joel?” you whispered. If the figure in the doorway wasn’t who you thought it was, you prayed for a quick death.

But as the man’s silhouette approached, your breathing steadied; it was him. Despite your blurred vision from two swollen black eyes, your brain recognized the fragments that formed Joel Miller’s unmistakable presence: the broad shoulders, firm gait, and weight of his rifle slung over his shoulder. A hot wave of tears rose at the realization that Joel had found you. You were going to be okay.

Upon reaching your side, Joel sank to his knees. His battered hands carefully cupped your wet cheeks as his bloodshot eyes desperately searched yours. You’d never seen this Joel before – a Joel who was scared, whose vulnerability was laid bare – and your heart wrenched with pain at the tears threatening to spill from his own eyes.

“Sweetheart,” he choked, like he couldn’t decide whether to laugh or to cry. His bottom lip quivered as his thumb gently brushed your cheek, as if he was checking to make sure that you were real, that it was really you beneath the bruises and the bloodshed. His voice cracked with sorrow, guilt seeping through every word: “I’m so sorry I wasn’t there.”

The iron fist that wrapped around your heart squeezed knowing that Joel blamed himself. It was in his nature to take on the weight of the world and responsibility for those he loved and you were no exception. You knew Joel and understood the depths to which he would punish himself for not protecting you. In reality, there was nothing he could’ve done. But in Joel’s tormented mind, such reasoning held no solace.

You struggled for the right words to take away his burden. “It’s okay,” you assured, your hands tenderly covering his that still cradled your face. “I’m okay. I promise.” Joel saw through your forced smile, but knew there was nothing he could say. “Let’s just go home.”

Silently, Joel cradled you in his arms, holding you close against his chest. As he carried you, he felt the weight of your body relax, surrendering to the comfort and safety he provided. Your head rested against him, your breaths becoming steady and peaceful as sleep claimed you.

Time blurred as the days passed. Hazy memories floated in and out of your consciousness — glimpses of Joel spoon-feeding you, of tenderly replacing bandages, and the featherlight touch of his lips pressing kisses to your forehead.

Finally, one night as twilight painted the sky in shades of purple, you stirred awake. As if on cue, Joel entered the room with a glass of water. His boots scuffed the hardwood floor as he approached and set the glass down on the bedside table. Taking a seat on the edge of the bed beside you, he reached out, gently tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. Then leaning forward, his lips pecked your temple.

"Hey there,” he whispered. “How are you feeling?"

You took hold of his hand, bringing it to your lips, pressing a tender kiss to each knuckle. "Better," you whispered, as though the two of you were sharing a secret. Your lips trailed up his hand, skimming along the inside of his wrist until you found yourself pulling him closer, causing Joel to lose his balance slightly as he leaned in to embrace you.

You nuzzled into his neck, seeking the comfort that only he could provide. "Missed you," you murmured, your words vibrating against his skin, as you breathed in the familiar scent that defined him.

His strong arms enveloped you, pulling you tightly against him. "I'm right here, sweetheart," he promised, his fingers stroking your hair. "Never gonna change that." In that moment, time stood still as you both immersed yourselves in the simple joy of being together again. The outside world faded away – the QZ, raiders, the infected – and all that mattered was the warmth of your bodies and shared breaths and sighs between you.

As your lips brushed against Joel's ear, you confessed with a hint of playfulness: "I think I need a shower."

Joel's arms gave you one final squeeze before releasing their hold. He leaned back to look at you, his eyes still filled with a mixture of awe and disbelief, as if he still couldn't quite believe if you were real. You gave him a small smile. "I'm here," you reassured him. “I’m okay.”

As you stood from the bed, a mask of determination veiled the pain that still raked through your body. Joel stood beside you, a silent pillar of support, guiding you with gentle hands to maintain your stability as you found your renewed sense of balance. Together, you made your way into the bathroom.

Joel reached out and turned on the shower, the sound of running water filling the space, creating a soothing backdrop to the moment. He stood by your side, his presence a steady reassurance as you prepared to cleanse away the remnants of your ordeal. With quiet care, he helped you disrobe, removing each piece of clothing with a delicate touch.

As you lifted your arms for Joel to remove your shirt, you couldn’t hide the whimper that escaped your lips, a sharp burst of pain radiating throughout your spine, as he tugged the garment over your head. You tried to quickly conceal the pain, but Joel saw through your facade – he knew you better than anyone.

To your relief, he didn’t scold you for moving into normalcy too fast or decide that the shower was a bad idea; instead, he held his hand under the stream of water, adjusting the temperature to ensure it was just right.

Then, you watched as he slowly shed his own clothes, standing before you naked and vulnerable, mirroring your own state of undress. He held your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours, as you both stepped into the warm fall of the cascading water.

Under the torrent of the shower, steam billowed, welcoming you in a cloud of wet warmth. With practiced hands, Joel lathered shampoo in his palms, his fingers working their way through your hair, massaging and cleansing with a confident yet gentle touch. You observed him in silence, captivated by the sight of his muscles flexing with each movement, displaying strength tempered with tenderness. The white suds built up, creating a frothy veil over your hair, as Joel carefully lifted your locks into the stream of water, rinsing away the traces of the past.

Gently, Joel turned you around so that your back was to him, his hands lathered in soap. With the utmost care, he began to massage your shoulders and trace a path down your arms, his touch both soothing and deliberate. He lifted your arms slightly, ensuring no part of your body was left untouched, as his hands moved down your back, tracing gentle circles and washing away the remnants of your captivity. Leaning forward, resting his chin on your shoulder, he guided his hands over your stomach and breasts, the suds gliding down your body, renewing your skin.

The moment held a sensual undercurrent, but it was devoid of pressure or expectation. This act of washing was an expression of pure love, a quiet gesture of nurturing your body back to health. Yet, even in this gentle intimacy, feeling Joel's body against yours, his hands caressing every inch and crevice of your body, a dizziness washed over you. A sense of lightheadedness and longing swirled within you, the desire to melt into his touch and be swept away.

After the shower, Joel wrapped you in a soft towel, cocooning you in its warmth. He then tenderly placed a second towel over your head, gently drying your hair, revealing your face with a renewed glow and cleansed complexion. As his eyes took in the sight of you, a mixture of relief and adoration danced in their depths, forming the first soft smile you had witnessed since your return. He leaned his forehead against yours, creating a sacred space between you.

"Tell me what you need, baby," he whispered, his voice carrying a blend of tenderness and desperation. His commitment to taking care of you was unwavering, his desire to meet your every need palpable. In this moment, he wanted nothing more than to provide solace and support, to be the anchor that would guide you through the storm.

Hugging your towel against you, you burrowed into Joel, a silent request for him to hold you that didn’t require words for him to understand. As he wrapped you in his embrace, you spoke into his bare chest, voice muffled: “You. Just need you, Joel.”

"I'm right here, baby," he murmured, his touch a comforting presence against your back. Your body stirred with a different kind of ache as you gazed up at him, a longing that transcended the physical. His soft, pillowy lips beckoned to be kissed, the scruff on his face tempting your touch. You could spend a lifetime tracing the lines and contours of his face, exploring every inch of him with a blind devotion.

Locked in his gaze, Joel understood the unspoken desires that flickered within you. Like a language only the two of you shared, he deciphered the quickening of your heartbeat, the subtle lick of your lips, and the faint furrow of your brow that betrayed both frustration and longing. He blinked, a silent affirmation that he felt it too, as he gently guided you towards the bed.

"Come on," Joel beckoned, his voice laced with a mixture of invitation and anticipation. You observed as he skillfully arranged the pillows against the headboard. He draped the towel that had once enveloped your damp hair onto the mattress, purposefully positioning it where your body would inevitably find its place. You then climbed onto the bed, positioning yourself with your back nestled against the plush pillows, your abdomen resting upon the soft towel, and the second towel still wrapped around your shoulders, offering warmth and security.

From this vantage point, your gaze fixated upon Joel, who stood at the foot of the bed, an arresting sight that never failed to steal your breath away.

No matter how many times your eyes met his, the effect remained unchanged—an overwhelming wave of captivation that surged through your veins. This moment was no exception. His hair, still damp from the shower, was slicked back, save for a single rebellious curl that dared to escape its confines. His flushed chest glistened under the subtle glow of amber light, adorned with droplets of water that cascaded over his skin. The only barrier between you and his complete vulnerability was the white towel that draped enticingly around his waist. Its snug embrace accentuated the contours of his hips, hinting at the sculpted muscles that lay beneath the fabric, while the mere suggestion of movement threatened to loosen its grip.

A tremor of anticipation coursed through you as Joel's eyes roamed over your form, mirroring the same intensity with which you had studied his. A slow, deliberate stroke of his jaw accompanied the journey of his gaze, traveling up your legs, lingering over the heat of your core, trailing across the curves of your breasts, until finally, his eyes connected with your own. His thumb traced a path over his bottom lip, an unspoken question hovering between you.

"Will you let me take care of you, baby?" he asked, a confident plea that resonated with sincerity. He closed the distance, taking a purposeful step toward the bed, his touch grazing over the delicate skin of your foot, tracing invisible patterns.

A lump formed in your throat, your mouth suddenly dry as you nodded, your eyes conveying an unspoken affirmation. "Always," you managed to whisper, the weight of your words hanging in the air, sealing the unbreakable bond that bound you two together.

You bit back a moan as the towel wrapped around Joel’s waist teasingly fell lower, the outline of his half-hard cock rising beneath the white cotton. He then crawled up the bed between your legs until he was able to nuzzle his nose into the soft skin behind your ear.

“That’s all I ever want,” he murmured, his warm breath sending a shiver down your spine. He planted a small kiss onto your skin, humming with pleasure as he grazed your neck. “To hold you,” he continued, moving down to kiss the constellation of freckles that spanned over your shoulder, “to kiss you.”

As he continued his onslaught of kisses and pecks, you felt the heat rising within you. Finally, as though Joel could sense your desperation, he brought his lips to yours. He softly worked over them – the soft, wet sounds filling the air – before delicately swiping his tongue over your bottom lip. As you opened your mouth and permitted his entry, his warm taste filled your senses, igniting a carnal desire that only Joel could fuel. You moaned hungrily into the kiss and raised your arms to wrap around Joel’s chest to pull him closer, but then groaned as another shock of pain rippled throughout you.

“Shhhhh, baby,” Joel cooed, resting his forehead against your own. He fought back an amused smile as he lovingly stroked your cheek and pecked at the corner of your lips. “Can’t have you hurtin’ yourself on me, sweet girl.”

Your cheeks burned with a mix of embarrassment and frustration. You felt like your body was betraying you from what your mind – and your hormones – severely desired.

“Just lean back and relax,” Joel coaxed, returning to the spot where your neck met your shoulder. He planted more kisses, featherlight, as he continued, “Just let me take care of my girl.”

Closing your eyes, you forced yourself to relax under Joel’s direction. As you sank into the pillows, you concentrated on the touch of Joel’s mouth moving further down your body. “That’s it,” he murmured as your breathing steadied. “That’s my girl.”

Your heartbeat quickened as Joel’s hands gently pushed away the towel you had slung over your shoulders, revealing your bare chest. With great care, Joel cupped your breasts, massaging the plush skin soothingly beneath his fingertips, while his thumbs lazily circled each nipple. As they became erect under his touch, he popped one into his mouth, suckling the sensitive skin between his teeth.

“Oh, Joel,” you whispered, your voice both a warning and a plea. He knew what you liked. He knew exactly how to give you what you wanted. And right now was one of those moments, when he suspended the passing of time and acted as though his life’s sole purpose was purely to worship and please you.

His tongue continued to swipe over your nipple before releasing it with a pop and moving to the next one. When you looked down, butterflies fluttered in the pit of your stomach at the sight of him; he looked so content with his long eyelashes covering his shut eyes, his nose slightly squashed against your breasts, and his lips wrapped around your nipple like he could stay that way pacified forever.

As you melted further into the pillows, Joel’s kisses moved down your belly. “My sweet girl,” he murmured – more to himself than to you – as he reached the pubic hair covering your mound. He pushed himself lower onto the bed and arranged himself so that he was neatly between your legs, before carefully lifting your thighs over his shoulders. As you settled into the position, arousal pummeled into your core at the touch of Joel secure between your legs and your bare feet grazing the muscles of his back.

“Sweet, sweet girl,” Joel repeated, his voice just a muffled murmur as he continued to plant kisses over your thick curls of hair. He turned his head to skim the tip of his nose over the inside of your leg, before dipping himself into the deepest crevice of your thigh, where he dragged his tongue along the crack. “My baby,” he whispered.

Joel hadn’t even touched you where it counted yet, and already, your core was dripping. Hearing Joel’s whispers of sweet nothings, tickled by his hot breath ghosting your skin, smelling the soap and shampoo mingle with the scent that was pure Joel, and feeling his plush pillows hug you from behind – it was all building so fast to be too much for you to take. Without a second thought, you spread your legs further, exposing the slick web of arousal between your legs to Joel.

He groaned with ravenous desperation, the sound only turning you on further. He squeezed the dough of your thighs over his shoulders as he buried his nose between your folds, the sticky spread of you smearing onto his face. Your breath hitched as you felt him deeply inhale your scent, before dragging his tongue along your folds. “Give you anything you want,” he mumbled, gently gliding his tongue up and down your slit. His tongue worked lavishly against you, slowly, with deliberate movements that were in no rush. As you felt his tongue dip into every curve and crevice of your core, your fingers found their way weaving through his hair.

“Joel,” you whimpered, wanting to buck your hips into him further but knowing your pain wouldn’t let you. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head with pleasure.

Joel shushed you as he continued to lick, his scruff tickling your skin and the sensation electrifying you more. “Sweet, sweet girl,” he continued, a groan pouring from his throat as he licked up a stripe of slick that oozed from inside you. With someone else, you may have been embarrassed or ashamed by how wet you got. But Joel treated it like a gift, like he’d discovered a secret that was all his, and he never failed to express how much he enjoyed it.

For what felt like hours, he stayed like that, his fingers gently massaging the dough of your thighs while his mouth sucked and slurped every part of your core. As perspiration formed on your forehead and your cheeks began to flush, you squirmed with want under Joel’s touch. But like always, he understood.

“You ready to cum, sweetheart?” he asked, looking up at you from between your legs. Despite what he was doing, his brown eyes looked so innocent. As you eagerly nodded your head, Joel pecked up your folds tenderly until he reached your clit. “Okay, baby,” he said soothingly. “You can cum whenever you want.” And with that, he sucked your clit into his mouth. Your stomach churned at the sensation of his tongue toying with your clit like it were candy, his soft strokes perfectly brushing against your sensitive bundle of nerves with kitten licks.

“Joel,” you cried, cradling his head in your hands. You felt white hot flames licking you from the inside out as the coil in your stomach threatened to snap. Heat rose into your chest and your cheeks as you fell deeper into the pillows, the cushions swallowing you whole.

Your hips rose just an inch, and though it hurt, the pleasure far outweighed the pain. At this perfect angle, Joel continued to swipe his tongue against your clit until all at once you were seeing fireworks bursting behind your eyes, a wave of euphoria rippling throughout your body. You cried his name as tears streamed down your cheeks.

As the aftershock continued to radiate throughout your body while you tried to catch your breath, Joel crawled up so that he could face you again. His dark eyes were blown out, his pink lips swollen and shiny with your slick. You whimpered as you watched him greedily lick his lips.

“Thank you,” you choked, wiping the tears that streaked your face. Joel kissed your face and hummed with content. “Still want you, though,” you sniffled, gazing up at him through your eyelashes. “Want to feel you inside me.”

Joel’s eyebrows furrowed in a mix of pain and arousal. “Are you sure, baby?” he asked, breath hitching, as your hips rose to grind against his. His towel had since fallen off and now you could feel it, his hard length begging to be buried inside of you.

You nodded confidently. “I’m positive,” you assured him, nosing into his neck. You nibbled his skin, the perfect button you could press to get what you wanted that would drive Joel crazy and whispered, “Please. Want you to fill me up.”

Joel groaned at your words; there was no way he could argue with you, and he didn’t want to. He fisted his cock in his hands and guided the tip along your folds. “You’re so wet for me, baby,” he commented, his eyes staring straight into yours.

You stroked his cheek and nodded, licking your lips. “All for you,” you promised him, studying every scar and scratch that etched his face.

You watched as his jaw fell slack as he pushed himself in, his entire cock filling you up with ease. You moaned instantly. Joel was accustomed to the way you’d mewl for him to fill you completely. He knew how much you loved his cock – the length, the girth, the way it filled you to the hilt – and he could read it on your face every time he had the chance to enter you. As his pubic hair came to brush against your clit, his cock completely sucked inside you, he murmured into your ear: “That’s it, sweetheart. S’all yours.”

As your moans grew louder, Joel pistoned himself deeper, maintaining a steady pace that wasn’t too fast or too slow, but just enough to savor the sensation inch-by-inch. Your nails dug into Joel’s forearms, too weak to wrap around his back, as you clung to him with desperation. “Joel,” you whimpered, not knowing what to do with yourself underneath them. The pleasure was building quicker than you had anticipated. “Joel, I–” you started to say, before sinking your teeth into his arm. You clenched tightly around him as he continued to thrust inside you.

“Can you cum again for me, baby?” Joel whispered sweetly, holding your chin in his hand to make you look at him. His eyes searched your red cheeks, furrowed brows, and watery eyes. As you desperately nodded your head, Joel’s lips frowned. “Yeah?” he asked, stroking your chin, unable to resist just a second of teasing.

But before any frustration could build inside of you, Joel’s hand was between your bodies and his thumb was drawing circles against your clit. “It’s okay, baby,” he encouraged, his own words struggling to come out of his mouth as his jaw became slack watching the pleasure wash over you. As your face contorted in pleasure, the coil in your belly threatening to snap for a second time, fresh tears began to roll down your face. Joel shushed you and kissed them away. “It’s okay, baby, it’s all for you,” he said, his words gradually coming out through gritted teeth as he fucked you deeper. “All yours, baby, every part of me.”

All at once you broke, crying out as a second seismic wave of pleasure erupted in your core and rippled throughout your body. As you gushed around Joel’s cock, his pubic hair drenched and the wet squelch penetrating the room, you felt his movements grow sloppy as he burrowed into your neck. Then he was emptying himself inside you, his warm cum seeping out of your aching hole.

He allowed himself to collapse beside you, careful not to hurt you, his sweat-slicked chest panting. His hand skimmed your chest, cupping your breast, while his face nuzzled into the other one. “My baby,” he murmured, kissing over your areola. He nuzzled into you more. “Never gonna let you go again.”

#joel miller fic #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #pedro pascal fic #tlou fic

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nerdytyrantphantom · 1 year

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#joel miller fic #joel miller x you #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #pedro pascal fic #tlou fic

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nerdytyrantphantom · 1 year

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Hi! :) I just finished reading business or pleasure and I LOVED IT. I’d really love to read more of your works so you have a Masterlist? If not that’s okay don’t worry I just look through your tags or your ao3 account :). Anyway have a good day or night!

omg hi! this ask just made my day :') first of all, i'm so happy you liked business or pleasure! if you have something you'd like to read, don't be shy about making a request :) <33 secondly you can check out my masterlist here -- i hope you find something you like and thank you so much again for reaching out!

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nerdytyrantphantom · 1 year

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the contractor | part one (pre-breakout!joel x f!reader)

summary: a summer of house-sitting for your parents turns into a scorching affair as you find yourself irresistibly drawn to the charismatic contractor, joel miller, amidst the chaos of home renovations. pairing: pre-outbreak!joel miller x f!reader word count: 3k rating: 18+ explicit a/n: i’ll continue this story based on how well part one does! i have a LOT of ideas for things contractor!joel and reader get into >:)

When your parents asked you to house-sit for them over the summer, they warned you of one caveat: the home would be undergoing renovations. However, that seemingly small detail slipped your mind at the time of their request. The only thing you were thinking about when you heard the word “house-sit” was the Texas sunshine baking your skin while you laid out poolside, and the freedom of having an empty two-story house all to yourself for two months.

It wasn’t until you were lying on your childhood bed, feet kicking in the air as you idly scrolled your phone, that you remembered the refurbishment that would be going on in the master bedroom and bathroom. A text bubble from your mother appeared at the top of your screen: “Contractor’s on the way.” You groaned to yourself, dreading that you’d inevitably have to talk to strangers. Then, just seconds after replying with a thumbs up emoji, the doorbell rang.

You quietly padded down the stairs in your socked feet. Making your way through the foyer, you stole a quick glance in the mirror. Could be worse, you thought, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear and lazily tightening the knot of your thin linen shorts.

“Hey, I gotta go. At a client’s,” you overheard the man saying as the door swung open. He turned around to face you as he tucked his phone into his back pocket. While his expression was at first dull – hardened and irritable, eyebrows furrowed in exhaustion – his grimace immediately melted into a smile upon seeing you.

“Hi, I’m Joel,” he introduced himself, his voice tinged with that southern twang you loved coming home to. His brown eyes sparkled with warmth as he extended his hand towards you.

You shook his hand and introduced yourself, feeling a pleasant tingle run through your fingers. “Nice to meet you,” you said, offering a shy smile.

Joel's gaze lingered on you for a moment longer than expected, and a faint blush crept up your cheeks. "Likewise," he said, his voice carrying a hint of intrigue. "Your parents mentioned you'd be house-sitting. I'll do my best to keep the disruption to a minimum."

As you led Joel through the house, you couldn’t help but steal glances at him from the corner of your eye. His presence filled the air with a captivating energy that stirred something new inside of you. With most strangers, you would’ve remained nonchalant, going through the necessary motions of conversation until you could retire to your bedroom in peace. But with Joel, you found yourself not wanting to leave him.

He glanced around the living room, his eyes taking in the floor-to-ceiling windows that showcased the backyard. Outside, the pool’s aquamarine surface sparkled invitingly, while a vibrant red cardinal fluttered next to the birdfeeder. His eyes met yours again. “Your folks have a beautiful home,” he complimented sincerely, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

You smiled bashfully. “Thank you,” you replied, a touch of pride in your voice. “Well, I mean – it’s my parents’ house. But they’d appreciate you saying that,” you clarified. Joel appeared to be suppressing a bigger smile than the one he was showing and nodded.

“So, what about you then?” he asked, turning his attention towards you. “You live here as well or visiting from out of town?” His tone was gentle and curious, something you weren’t used to hearing in the voices of most men your age.

You giggled nervously from the attention. “Sorta,” you said, scratching the back of your neck. “I just finished my spring semester of school,” you explained. You finally let yourself resume eye contact with him and tried not to squirm under his penetrating gaze. “So, I’m just house-sitting for the summer. Then it’s back off to the dorms.”

Joel chuckled. “Ah, a smart college girl, huh?” he said, like he’d uncovered a secret about you. Your stomach fluttered and for a moment you felt like you were floating. Shy yet appreciative of his comment, you mumbled: “Something like that.”

Once you showed Joel the rooms he’d be remodeling, you tried your best to listen as he explained the scope of the renovations and the timeline for completion. As he spoke, you couldn’t stop your eyes from drifting to his lips or drinking in the sight of his biceps rippling underneath his t-shirt.

Maybe it was all in your head, but part of you wanted to believe that there was a subtle tension between you. It was as if the air itself crackled with unspoken words and wants for something more. You ached to believe that the attraction between you was undeniable and intensifying with each passing moment, but that bubble burst quickly when Joel’s cell phone interrupted your conversation – and spiraling fantasies.

He apologized and scanned the caller ID. Holding a finger up to indicate that he’d only be a minute, the two of you exited the bedroom. You watched him idly wander into the foyer and stop in front of the mirror. He ran a hand through his tousled hair, adjusting his appearance with a casual confidence, before tossing his head back in annoyance.

“Yes, Tommy, I’ll take care of it,” you heard him say exasperated, before he was sliding his phone back into his pocket and returning to the living room.

He quickly shook his head, as though he were shooing away the conversation he just had. "So, where were we?" he asked, his voice carrying a subtle undertone of playfulness.

You couldn't help but smile, feeling a surge of excitement coursing through your veins. "We were discussing the renovations," you replied, feeling a mixture of relief and anticipation that the interruption was over. "You were explaining the timeline and what needs to be done."

Joel nodded, his gaze locked with yours. "Right, right," he said, his voice filled with a touch of enthusiasm. "Well, it's going to be a bit of work, but I'll make sure to keep things as smooth as possible. I want you to enjoy your time here without too much disruption."

“Oh, please,” you assured him, quickly brushing away his concerns. “You’ll be fine, don’t worry about me. I’ll be set.” You nervously placed your hands on your hips, and then at your sides, before putting them on your hips again.

Joel began to head towards the door. “Well, I got just one more question for you and then I’ll be out of your hair,” he said over his shoulder. You walked closely behind him, hanging on to his every word. “Besides house-sitting, any other plans for the college girl this summer?” he asked.

You felt your face warm. “Oh, you know,” you said, bouncing on your heels. “Just hanging out here at home, laying out by the pool…” as your voice trailed, your gaze absentmindedly wandered over his arms one last time, committing the sight to memory.

Joel smiled. “Sounds like we’ll be seeing each other a lot then,” he said, opening the door.

You stood behind him, watching him walk towards his truck. “Looking forward to it,” you blurted, immediately cursing yourself.

But Joel just laughed and threw a wave over his shoulder. “Me too.”

So, that’s how your summer began. Joel and his crew would arrive in the mornings, retiring to their trucks for their lunch break, and then continue to work late into the afternoon. You’d be sprawled out on your bed, texting a boy you were only half-interested in, when you’d hear knuckles rapping against your door just before five. “Just letting you know we’re heading out for the night,” Joel would say. “Be back around the same time tomorrow.”

He was considerate like that – always communicating, always setting your expectations, always making sure you were comfortable and at ease despite sharing a roof with a bunch of men you didn’t know for the majority of the day. Part of you wanted to be annoyed and have something to complain about, like the house full of strangers or the noise from the drills. But then you’d be sitting at the kitchen table, eyes concentrated on your bowl of cereal, and you’d look up to catch Joel using the bottom of his shirt to wipe away sweat from his forehead. You’d ache at the sight of his tanned stomach and black happy trail snaking into his pants, and everything would be okay. You wouldn’t’ve changed a thing.

Over time, though, Joel’s presence under your roof began to feel natural. You slowly became more relaxed around him, finally able to maintain your composure most of the time without being a babbling, blushing, giggling mess. You gave up on trying to look picture-perfect everyday, and with that, started prioritizing getting attention from boys your own age. You and Joel even developed a repertoire, him frequently teasing you about the stupid smile you had while staring at your phone. But your giddiness with men who weren’t Joel was short-lived.

After one particularly bad day when you decided fuck all men, you changed into your swimsuit and aggressively lathered yourself in coconut oil. After greasing your skin, you dried your hands enough to pour a steep cocktail – aka vodka with a splash of orange juice – and marched outside on a mission to do nothing but work on your tan and ruminate on your hatred for the opposite sex.

Sure, in the back of your head, you knew Joel was an exception – but Joel was also out of your league. There was no way you were going to have a chance with the contractor your parents hired to renovate their bedroom, the same way there was no chance you were ever going to find a guy your age in Texas who was worth a damn.

After chugging your drink on the comfort of your lounge chair, you rolled over to tan your back. The afternoon sun rays mingled with the booze in your blood, and before you knew it, you had dozed off into a tipsy slumber. It wasn’t until you heard your name being called from somewhere in the distance that you began to stir from your stupor. Suddenly, a shadow cast over you; you squinted up at the silhouette beside you.

“Joel?” you blinked, your voice groggy and thick. Everything felt disoriented. As the haze of sleep lifted, a sharp stinging sensation spread across your skin, accompanied by the realization that you had fallen asleep under the scorching Texas sun without any sunscreen.

“Hey,” Joel cooed, crouching on the ground beside you. His deep, dark eyes swam with gentle concern. “You need to get inside, darlin’,” he said softly, and for a moment you wondered if you were dreaming. “Sun’s done burnt you to a crisp.”

You winced, feeling the heat radiating from your reddened skin. "Oh, shit," you muttered, pushing yourself up into a sitting position. The pain intensified, making you wince again. "I didn't realize how long I was out here."

Joel picked up your empty cup and waited for you to stand beside him. As you got to your feet, the world immediately felt lopsided. You were woozy, disoriented, and utterly confused. Without enough time to realize what was happening, you began to lose your balance before clinging to Joel’s arm for stability.

“Whoa, whoa,” he said, smoothly wrapping his arm around you to prevent you from falling. Through the perplexed state you were in, you managed to make out an amused smile on Joel’s face. “Jesus, girl,” he said, gradually guiding you back towards the house. “Sunburnt, drunk, and dehydrated. What am I gonna do with you?”

Before you could think, you heard yourself blurt out: “Whatever you want.” As soon as the words slipped from your lips, you felt a mixture of surprise, embarrassment, and a strange thrill coursing through your body. The air around you seemed to hold its breath for a moment, as if waiting for Joel's response. You tried to steal a quick glance at him, but the movement just made you feel dizzier.

Joel's steps momentarily faltered, his grip on your arm tightening slightly. Uncertainty crept in, and you worried that your impulsive confession had crossed a line, jeopardizing the comfortable dynamic you had developed over the past weeks. But then, a soft chuckle escaped his lips, diffusing the tension and bringing relief to your body.

"Well, darlin', I appreciate the offer," he replied, his voice tinged with a mix of amusement and a hint of something more. "But I think our first priority is getting you inside and taking care of that sunburn. We can talk about the 'whatever I want' part later."

Blushing with the realization of what you had said, you nodded gratefully, relieved that Joel had taken it in stride. Supported by him, you made your way back to the house, a whirlwind of embarrassment and excitement swirling within you.

Once inside, Joel gently guided you to the kitchen and motioned you to the table. "Sit," he instructed before heading to his truck. Upon his return, he carried a jar of aloe vera and a small packet that resembled powdered flavoring for a drink.

Curiosity piqued, you watched as Joel rummaged through the cabinets for glasses, finally locating them and proceeding to fill one with water from the refrigerator dispenser. As he approached, he placed the glass on the table before biting the tip off the packet, pouring its contents into the glass. With a swirl, he set the concoction in front of you. "Drink up," he urged.

Feeling a hint of childlike reprimand, you took a sip of the orange-infused mixture, finding it surprisingly palatable. Tilting your head back, you finished the glass, momentarily forgetting your discomfort. Meanwhile, Joel stood behind you, bottle of aloe in hand.

"Why do you have all this stuff?" you asked, feeling a sudden chill as Joel gently collected your hair over your shoulder to better expose your back. You listened to him open the tub and dip his fingers into the ointment. "I keep it in my truck for the days we’re outside," he explained. "Can't afford to take any chances with the heat."

Nodding your head, the pieces fell into place—Joel's preparedness as a contractor, contrasting with your impulsive decisions as a college student. A sense of defeat began to weigh upon you, your head hanging low, as the consequences of your actions caught up with you. Then, a sudden icy glide across your shoulders made you gasp, intensifying the burn.

"F-uck!" you exclaimed, jumping in your seat as the pain flared.

Joel paused, his touch retreating. "I know it hurts," he said gently, his hand no longer on your skin. "But it's going to hurt a lot more if you don't do this. Do you want me to stop?"

Shaking your head, you squeezed the chair underneath you. "No, keep going," you meekly replied, hoping for relief from the discomfort.

Joel resumed applying the aloe vera to your sunburned shoulders, his touch remaining gentle yet purposeful. As his cool fingertips glided over your heated skin, a soothing sensation gradually replaced the intense stinging. You couldn't help but relax under his ministrations, feeling a growing sense of trust and safety in his presence.

The room fell into a momentary silence, the only sound filling the air being the rhythm of your breath. You took the last sip from the liquid IV, feeling its replenishing effects coursing through your body. With an embarrassed sigh, you mustered the courage to address the weight of your current state.

"Sorry, I'm such a mess," you confessed, feeling shame flood your body, now exposed in both physical and emotional ways.

Joel's touch paused momentarily, his warm hand stilling on your shoulder. His voice held a genuine reassurance as he spoke, "Hey, we all have our moments, darlin'. Don't be too hard on yourself.” You heard a smile in his voice. “And hell, if this is the worst thing you’re doing at your age, you’re doing pretty good in my book.”

“That’s true,” you agreed, a faint, crooked smile gracing your lips as you contemplated the choices you hadn't made, the ones that had spared you from further disappointment. But amidst that reflection, the memory of your recent mistake pierced through, reminding you of the sting of being let down by yet another guy. A bitter sigh escaped your lips, and you couldn't help but voice your frustration to Joel.

"Boys just suck, Joel," you declared, your words tinged with a mix of resignation and exasperation.

Joel's laughter resonated behind you, a sound that held both amusement and understanding. "Well, I won't argue with you there," he replied, his voice a blend of sympathy and camaraderie. "Can't say I have any immediate consolation for you on that front." His hands descended lower, settling on the backs of your arms, a gesture that surprised you but also felt strangely comforting. You allowed yourself to lean into his touch, savoring the soothing strokes of his fingers as they skillfully massaged the aloe vera into your skin. It was more than a mere application of ointment; it was a gesture of care and tenderness.

As Joel's fingers worked their magic, a wave of sensations washed over you, and you found yourself sinking into the moment. His voice, low and intimate, drifted close to your ear, sending shivers down your spine. The warmth of his breath caressed your skin, and his words reverberated with an intense sincerity.

"There's someone out there for you, darlin'," he murmured, his voice filled with a deep conviction. "You just gotta give it some time."

The blissful overload of Joel's proximity, his voice, and his touch engulfed you, and your eyes fluttered closed, reveling in the sheer sensory experience. But just as you were fully surrendering to the moment, he withdrew, sealing the lid on the jar of aloe vera, as if closing a chapter.

"There," Joel said, breaking the spell and placing the jar of aloe vera on the table. He took your glass and walked to the sink, his movements carrying a sense of completion. "All set."

Your eyes reluctantly opened, adjusting to the sudden shift in the atmosphere. The intensity of the moment slowly ebbed away, leaving behind a lingering warmth and a tinge of longing. You sat there, momentarily lost in your thoughts, grateful for Joel's presence and the temporary respite he had provided.

"Thank you," you expressed, your voice carrying a mix of appreciation and longing. You observed Joel as he unclipped his keys from his belt loop, a subtle indication that his departure was imminent. Part of you yearned for him to stay, to continue soothing your aching body and reassuring your troubled heart. You wished for his presence to fill the void and offer solace.

However, all you could do was watch as he flashed a warm smile and playfully winked at you. "Anytime," he replied, before making his way toward the door. Just before stepping out, his voice reached your ears once more, a final parting remark. "Be good."

#joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller x you #joel miller fic #pedro pascal fic #tlou fic

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nerdytyrantphantom · 1 year

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discovered your blog a few days ago and i'm obsessed with your writing!!

thank you so much, sweet anon!!! <333 so happy you're here <3 let me know if you have something you'd like to read!

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nerdytyrantphantom · 1 year

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omg “business or pleasure” was soooooo good #godbless

thank you so much! it was a pleasure to write ^_^

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nerdytyrantphantom · 1 year

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I have a Joel x fem reader if you’re open to it! Him and reader being cold and “professional” with each other but also being sexually addicted to each other becauseu he loved making her whine, cry and melt under him and she loved having him be in love and soft towards her

Thank you for the request, dear anon! You can find what I wrote for this prompt here. I hope you like it! <3

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nerdytyrantphantom · 1 year

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business or pleasure (joel miller x f!reader)

This was my first request! 💗 If you have something you’d like to read, let me know here!

request: “I have a Joel x fem reader if you’re open to it! Him and reader being cold and “professional” with each other but also being sexually addicted to each other becauseu he loved making her whine, cry and melt under him and she loved having him be in love and soft towards her” word count: 2.9k rating: 18+ explicit warning: unprotected p in v sex, creampie, praise kink kinda, slight dom!joel a/n: This one’s for you, anon! <33

“I want Joel with you on this one,” Tess said, her hand squeezing your shoulder. She knew you preferred to work alone, but she couldn’t risk your safety on this mission. “I know you don’t want to hear that, but that’s how this one’s gotta go.”

Your eyes shot to the man standing behind her. With his arms crossed in purposeless defiance, Joel toed the dirt beneath him. He glanced up, locking eyes with yours for a split second, before furrowing his brows in concentration as he returned his gaze to the ground.

“You got that, Joel?” Tess called over her shoulder, ensuring the silent man was paying attention.

He gave a stiff nod. “Yeah, I got it,” he confirmed.

That’s how you ended up working alongside the stoic man on a smuggling operation. While Tess knew you were skilled with a blade, she was concerned you’d need more muscle – a shooter, to be specific – and that’s where Joel came in.

You were loosely familiar with each other. Occasionally you’d share a bottle of booze with Tess in her apartment, but for the most part, you both kept your distance, an invisible wall wedged between you.

But some nights, you felt it: a magnetic attraction to Joel that tinged the air with electricity. Tess would drunkenly excuse herself, stumbling into the bathroom, leaving you and Joel cloaked in a heavy silence. You’d watch his scarred finger trace the contours of his beer bottle and immediately ache, wishing those were your curves Joel was focused on.

He’d catch your gaze and smile a smile you rarely got to see, the whiskey in his blood lowering his guard. The salacious glint in his eyes would send a surge of heat straight to your core, and you felt like he knew everything you were thinking. You would’ve sworn he was thinking it, too. But then the next day would come, and it was back to business.

You didn’t need anyone to tell you that this excursion with Joel was strictly business as well. Not when he marched three steps ahead of you. Not when he insisted on keeping watch each night – “No arguing with me.” And not when he refused to ever make eye contact. The further you pushed yourself to get over it, the harder it became for you to accept.

Finally, on your last night before the smuggling operation went down, you spoke up, unafraid of the consequences. At this point, you figured you had nothing to lose.

“Why don’t you ever look at me?” you asked curiously as you lazily plucked the tattered threads at the end of your shirt sleeve. You and Joel had settled in an abandoned apartment for the night. You laid on your side, propped up on your elbow, while Joel hunched over criss-cross beside you. Between you was nothing but a lantern, the only source of light in the desolate room.

Joel’s face crinkled in confusion. “What?” he asked like he hadn’t heard you.

You rolled your eyes. Of course he was going to be difficult. “I said,” you emphasized, dramatizing your annoyance. “Why don’t you ever look at me?”

For the first time since departing the QZ, Joel’s gaze found you. The glow of the lantern danced in his dark eyes as he scanned your body without shame. You felt him start with your socked feet – “You’re gonna wish you left your boots on if we have to run” – and drift to your denim-clad thighs. They lingered on your breasts, the curve of your neck, your lips, before finally settling on your eyes.

The corner of his mouth tugged into a crooked smile. “I’m looking at you now,” he said simply, catching you off guard. You expected resistance or an awkward moment – not for the man to make up for lost time.

Heat flooded your cheeks. Trying your best to maintain a cool demeanor, you pressed, keeping your voice steady: “Is there a reason why you weren’t looking at me before?”

Joel’s smile faded and he looked away. “It’s not professional,” he said, his voice low. He chewed the inside of his cheek, lost in thought. Then, his expression changed – a familiar glint in his eye – “Why, darlin’?” he asked, the pet name triggering a bout of heat straight to your core. His tone grew cocky. “You want me to?”

The warmth in your face refused to wane. You absentmindedly wet your lips. “Maybe,” you shrugged, refocusing on pulling the loose threads of your shirt. You could still feel Joel’s eyes devouring you as a silence settled. “Kinda like it when you look at me,” you admitted softly. Despite the nonchalant attitude you wished to convey, you avoided looking up to read Joel’s face.

He chuckled low in his throat, the sound sending shivers down your spine. “I’ve noticed,” he said, voice rough. He shifted closer to you, his hand reaching out to tilt your chin up so that you were forced to meet his gaze. "I like looking at you, too," he said, his eyes locked onto yours. "If I’m honest,” he continued, thumb stroking your bottom lip, “I’ve been wanting to do a lot more than just look at you.”

Your breath caught in your throat as Joel leaned in, his lips hovering just inches away from yours. You could feel the heat radiating off his body, and your own body responded instinctively, leaning towards him. Just as his lips were about to caress your own, he grinned and pulled back. “Busy day tomorrow, though,” he reminded you, grunting as he stood up.

Joel nodded towards your sleeping bag. “Get some rest,” he encouraged, picking up his rifle and heading towards the window overlooking the city. He propped his feet up on the windowsill. Thanks to the light of the moon highlighting his face, you caught him wink. “I’ll take first watch.”

Incredibly frustrated, you rolled onto your side and cocooned deep into your sleeping bag. “Asshole,” you grumbled, and you swore you heard him laugh underneath his breath.

The next day, everything went according to plan. You dropped off the goods and scored some valuable loot on the way home. You’d come across some raiders you were able to stealth by and a couple of clickers Joel annihilated instantly. All in all, the mission was a breeze.

While the conversation never returned to the promiscuous place it had ventured to on your night in the old apartment complex, you were convinced Joel was teasing you. Once again, you never caught him looking at you, yet there were moments he’d make it obvious he was. Like when you didn’t realize your backpack was open. Joel had come behind you to zip it closed. Afterward, he adjusted the straps, his thick fingers brushing against your shoulders. “There,” he murmured, his breath tickling the back of your neck. “Better distributes the weight.”

When you arrived back at Tess’s apartment that night, the hardened lines in her face melted away upon seeing you. “How’d it go?” she asked, taking the bag of loot from Joel and dumping the contents onto the table. She rummaged through each item, checking them carefully.

“Fine,” you said with a nod.

“Come across anything dangerous?” she asked, still inspecting everything.

You spoke before you thought: “Just this one,” you teased, gesturing towards Joel.

Tess glanced at you just in time to catch the shy smile on your face, but pretended not to. Suppressing her own grin, she said pleased: “Glad everything worked out.”

As you and Joel bid Tess a good night and headed out to leave, Joel’s arm slunk around your waist colliding your hip with his. “Where you think you’re goin’ off to, huh?” he asked, a dirty smirk etched across his face. He nodded his head in the opposite direction of the hallway – where his room was – and gestured for you to follow. “Come on.”

A mix of nervousness and excitement flooded throughout you. “We celebrating our victory?” you asked, trying to keep up with him. As he pulled out the keys to his door, he gave you a devious wink: “Something like that.”

Entering his apartment felt surreal. You couldn’t believe you were finally seeing the sanctuary of the man who had always been so private. After tossing the keys onto the counter, Joel sunk into the couch, one arm outstretched beside him while the other rested on his spread out thighs. He cocked his head to the side and gazed up at you, who stood in the middle of the room unsure how to follow his lead.

You nervously traced your lip with your thumb, feeling yourself flush underneath the warm glow of his living room lighting. “What?” you finally said, fidgeting and fighting a coy smile.

Joel gave you a single nod. “You know, sweetheart.”

As his eyes crawled your body, you found your hands acting on their own accord; slowly, you began to unbutton your flannel shirt. Confidence bloomed inside of you as you watched lust wash over Joel’s face. “You finally gonna give me what I want?” you asked, a coquette grin sneaking across your lips. You could feel the room warming up with each second that passed.

The thrill of the unknown sent shivers down your spine. There was no denying that Joel enjoyed seeing you this way – speaking up, challenging him to deliver everything you desired. With each button you released, revealing glimpses of the allure hidden beneath your shirt, the tension in the room grew thicker. The space between you seemed to shrink, as if drawn together by an invisible force.

He watched intently as you peeled off your shirt, revealing a plain black bra that barely contained your breasts. Joel’s eyes drank in the sight, the hunger in them almost palpable. He licked his lips slowly, savoring the moment before him.

“You have no idea,” he growled, standing up from the couch and striding towards you. He took your face in his hands and kissed you fiercely, his tongue pushing past your lips to taste you. You moaned into him as your hands reached up to tangle in his hair.

His hands roamed over your body, exploring every inch of your skin as though he was trying to memorize it. He pulled away from the kiss and tugged at the hem of your pants, silently asking for permission to take them off. You nodded eagerly, your hands fumbling with the button and zipper as he helped you out of them.

“Over here,” he said, guiding you to the couch once he had you completely naked. He sank back into his seat and pulled you onto his lap, your bare back against his clothed chest.

“What about your clothes?” you questioned, but your wonder was quickly cut short when Joel’s fingers found your slick lips. Carefully studying the curves of your pussy, Joel nuzzled into your ear.

“Hm?” he asked, his fingers gradually becoming covered in your wetness as they gently thrust inside of you. The wet squelch of his fingers entering your heat made you squirm with embarrassment. “What were you saying, sweetheart?” he asked innocently, nosing against your skin.

Your thoughts had been wiped, though, the only thought in your head being Joel, Joel, Joel. As his fingers worked over you, you desperately squeezed his wrist. “F-feels so good, Joel,” you whimpered, ashamed at how quickly you were losing your composure. You earnestly spread your legs further and Joel chuckled against you.

“Aw, baby,” he cooed in your ear, his thumb now swiping against your clit. “You know I love to wind you up,” he said, kissing your neck, “just so I can watch you fall apart.”

Your head fell onto his shoulder in bliss. Hearing his dirty words infiltrate your mind drove you to the edge, threatening to make you spill yourself all over his scarred hand that was nearly three fingers deep inside now.

“Joel,” you whined, struggling to concentrate on not coming yet. You didn’t want him to see how eager you were – how much you needed it.

But Joel knew you were close. He knew how to get you there. “Wish you could see how pretty you look right now,” he murmured, finally shoving his third finger to the hilt. His mouth opened in awe as he watched the pleasure paint your face.

“Oh my god,” you gasped, looking down. You watched Joel’s thick fingers penetrate you with such ease while his thumb continued to worship your clit with slow, gentle strokes. You squeezed your eyes shut, preparing to come apart on his digits that were stuffed so deeply inside of you, when suddenly he stopped, removing his hand completely.

You cried out in agony. “What the fuck, Joel,” you cursed, slamming your fists against his jean-clad thighs. Pain radiated from your core at the absence of Joel’s touch.

“Hush, baby,” Joel murmured, and before you could retaliate further, he was lifting you up like you were nothing and spinning you around. In seconds, he freed his cock from his jeans, and pulled you on top of him. Without warning – not that you needed it at this point – he shoved you down on top of him, his thickness breaching your inner walls and filling you completely.

“Oh my god, Joel,” you cried, shocked by his size – the girth, the length, the way it hit your insides so deep. All you could do was haphazardly unbutton his shirt halfway before you gave up, overwhelmed by the sensation of his tip prodding that special spot.

As you struggled to find your balance, he squeezed your hips to angle you more sharply on top of him. “How’s that feel, baby?” he asked, looking up at you through his eyelashes, checking in. You nodded, sinking your teeth into your bottom lip. You were lost at sea on a wave of pleasure, too far from land to speak coherently. “So d-deep,” you whimpered, eyes sliding shut.

Joel smiled wickedly as he drank in the sight of you unabashedly riding him without any fear or shame. “That’s it, baby,” he said, loving the way your breasts jumped with each bounce on his cock. “Take what you need.”

After what felt like a marathon of straddling Joel’s cock until your legs burned, you couldn’t help but slow your pace from the exhaustion threatening to take over. Luckily for you, Joel took this as his cue to lead. With his hands squeezing your hips to hold you in place, he bucked himself hard inside of you, helping you discover an entirely new depth you didn’t know he could reach.

“Joel!” you cried, clinging to his half-unbuttoned shirt. Your eyes caught his chest glistening in sweat, the dark hairs pasted to his tanned skin, and the sight only fueled you further into ecstasy.

He moved one of his hands from your hip to the back of your head and gently pulled at your hair, forcing you to look at him. “Atta girl,” he praised, his lips again forming that devious smirk. “Take it all in, baby,” he said. His other hand squeezed your hip tighter as he refused to relent on fucking you. He released your hair to press against your stomach. “You feel me in here?” he asked, his voice feigned with innocence. As you struggled to nod your head, Joel continued to lower his hand while still pressing against you, until his thumb could reach your clit. He began to trace the bundle of nerves, building up to the perfect pace.

“Joel!” you yelped, feeling the pressure build instantly inside you. You weren’t sure how much longer you could hold out for. “Joel, you’re gonna make me…” you trailed, desperate to hang on. Your jaw grew slack as he held you and rocked inside of you. When you finally gazed up at him with a half-lidded stare, eyebrows furrowed, cheeks flushed, Joel groaned.

“Fuck,” he said, nibbling your chin. “Fucking love watching you lose control, baby,” he admitted, his words rapidly spilling from his mouth. “Poor thing doesn’t know how bad she needs it.” As his hips started to grow sloppy, you felt yourself reaching the edge. You tried to warn Joel, but all you could do was mewl pathetically.

“That’s it, baby girl,” Joel encouraged, kissing every inch of your cheek. “Thaaat’s it, baby, cum all over my cock.” It was that that broke the band inside you, forcing you to gush around him. You felt your slick coating his cock as he continued to thrust in and out.

“Oh my god,” you whined as he continued to bounce you, the stimulation becoming too much to bear. As tears flooded your eyes, you watched Joel’s own eyebrows furrow in pleasure as his tongue licked the sweat above his lip. With a drawn out groan, you felt Joel’s grip on you tighten just as hot ropes of his cum shot deep inside of you. As he lowered his hands from your hips, where you were sure bruises would be forming, you curled into his chest tucking yourself under his chin. You breathed in his scent – the sweat and musk and deliciousness that was Joel Miller – and panted with happiness.

“Joel,” you breathed, catching your breath. You wrapped your arms around his torso and hugged him closely. Your clammy skin felt soothed against his. “That was incredible.”

He stroked your back and traveled his hand up behind your head to massage your scalp, holding you close against him. He hummed in agreement. “I know, baby,” he said, pecking the top of your head.

Then he pulled you back to look at you – really look at you – and smiled. “I think we’re gonna like doing business together.”

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller smut #joel miller fic #pedro pascal fic #tlou fic

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nerdytyrantphantom · 1 year

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sharpshooter (joel miller x f!reader)

summary: after a long game of cat-and-mouse, you finally have joel miller where you want him. little do you know, you’ve walked right into his trap. pairing: joel miller x f!reader word count: 2.7k rating: 18+ explicit warning: oral (f receiving), unprotected p in v sex, creampie ao3 link: click here a/n: enemies to lovers! porn with no plot! FILTHY CONSENT! this story was really just an outlet for me to release a bunch of my sexual frustrations lately lmao. enjoy!

You’d been tracking him for weeks and it was finally about to pay off – literally and figuratively. As the sun sank into the horizon, Joel Miller’s silhouette disappeared into an abandoned shelter on the outskirts of the woods, and you knew this was your opportunity to get your reward from the Fireflies.

Once the moon’s glow lit the pathway to the safehaven, you began your descent towards the shelter. Snow crunched beneath your boots as you approached the rotting door, and with an aching creak of the hinges, you were inside.

Silence. As your eyes adjusted to the darkness, you realized the interior was seemingly unscathed. No cabinet doors swung open revealing their emptiness. No overturned shelves littering the floors. It appeared like no one had ever looted the place – a rare sight in this world.

You clicked on your flashlight for further investigation. There was a staircase in a corner of the room and you knew that’s where your target had to have disappeared to. As your flashlight shined over the room – the empty dining table, rickety shairs, dusty shelves – you noticed footprints.

Puzzled, you realized the footprints didn’t lead to the staircase like you thought they would. Instead, they had only gone a couple feet in front of where you stood before they disappeared. Everything went still.

By the time you turned around, it was too late; Joel had his gun pointed at your head the same way you had yours aimed at his.

For a moment, the two of you stood there with your eyes locked in a fierce stare. You had been told of the atrocities the man had committed, but had never been warned of how attractive he was. As your eyes bore into each other’s, there was a change – something shifted. There was a spark of something – what, exactly, you weren’t sure – but suddenly you were blinking, losing concentration.

Joel spoke first. “You’re not a bad shot,” he said, a hint of admiration in his voice.

You kept your tone even. “You’re not so bad yourself.”

He cautiously lowered his rifle. “Look,” he sighed, raising his hands in surrender. “I don’t know about you, but I’m getting tired of playing this game.”

You held steady. Focus. “Yeah? And what game is that?”

A smirk ghosted his lips. “The one where you pretend like you’re gonna finally shoot me.”

Livid by his insinuation, your fingers darted to the trigger – but Joel was faster. He instantly redirected the muzzle of your gun over his shoulder, sending a bullet flying through the air and shattering a window on the wall behind him, before shoving you against the wall.

“Careful there, rookie,” he chided, pinning your arms above your head. “Might do something you regret.” Towering over you with his calloused hands firmly locked around your wrists, you tried to ignore the flickers of fire stirring inside you.

“I wouldn’t regret it,” you seethed through gritted teeth. You pounded your head against the wall in frustration – for not killing him when you had the chance, for getting caught in his trap, for feeling an undeniable desire infect your thoughts. You glared up at him through your eyelashes. “I’d get my fucking pay and move on with my life.”

Joel’s grip tightened. His jaw clenched as he considered your words. “That it then?” he asked, cocking his head to the side. His dilated pupils scanned your face. “You just taking orders?”

You ignored his question and winced. He was squeezing your pressure points and he knew it. While your eyes searched for a way to break free, your mind became further plagued by the man in front of you. His body was so close. His warmth was so palpable. And he smelled of pine and whiskey – the scent sending your hormones into a frenzy. You swore you were getting drunk off his closeness alone.

In seconds, he flipped you around and flattened your chest against the wall. “I asked you a question,” he warned, now holding your wrists at the small of your back.

Despite the hostile environment, he kept a respectful distance from your body. Besides his hands that shackled your own, he didn’t touch you – and it made you absolutely ache.

With nothing at this point left to lose, you couldn’t help yourself. You listened to the carnal urges whispering in your ear and gave in to fueling the fire inside of you.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Joel asked as your hand massaged his pants from behind you. It was hard to perfectly align your palm with his crotch, but your intentions were clear.

“Something I won’t regret,” you answered, your voice much softer than you intended. There was a hint of a plea in your tone. Pathetic. However, your movements grew confident as you felt his pants tightening beneath your touch.

Joel traced the tip of his nose over the skin behind your ear, testing you. “This some sort of trick?” he murmured, his breath sending goosebumps down your spine. “Or is this real?”

Your eyes fell shut at his touch. His deep voice and southern drawl were as smooth as honey as he spoke into your ear. Your body buzzed with want as your hand grew more fervent over his pants.

You arched your back against him, attempting to rub your ass over his crotch, while your hand now clung to the hem of his shirt. “I’ll show you,” you whispered over your shoulder, raising your head to give him further access to your neck, “if you let me.”

Joel loosened his grip on your right wrist, but continued to hold your left one secured against your back. “Go on then, baby,” he murmured. “Show me what you want.”

You placed your hand over his own and guided it across your body. Slowly, you traveled up the span of your stomach to your chest and squeezed your hand over his, letting him feel your pebbled nipple through your shirt. He tenderly massaged your breast and already, you could tell so much about the man you had been hired to kill - how his touch was strong yet gentle, careful yet confident.

Under your hand’s lead, he continued to explore your body lower. As your hand snaked into the waist of your baggy pants, Joel buried his head into the crook of your neck, deeply inhaling. Your teeth sank into your bottom lip as you guided his fingers over the top of your panties.

Relinquishing control, you placed your hand against the wall now as Joel fingered the wet warmth pooling in the center of your underwear. “This all for me?” he purred into your neck before nibbling gently. You gasped at the sudden contact of his teeth, but eagerly nodded as his fingers delicately traced every dip and curve of your core.

“I told you,” you panted, cautiously turning around to be face-to-face again. “It’s real.”

For a moment Joel studied you like he was trying to figure out what to do next with you. You resisted the urge to beg him to touch you and did your best to wait patiently. Then, in one fluid motion, he was lifting you up and sitting you on the edge of the table.

Your hands planted on the surface behind you as Joel lifted your foot. With slow, deliberate movements, he began unlacing your boots one at a time. Next, he instructed you to lift your hips and pulled off your pants, leaving you in nothing but your shirt, coat, and soaked panties while he remained fully dressed.

Once he had your bottom half how he wanted it, he remained standing and placed your foot over his shoulder. “Been a long time since you were properly fucked?” he asked, turning his head to place a delicate kiss on the inside of your ankle. His scruff tickled your skin and you found his leisurely pace torturously frustrating.

“Y-Yeah,” you nodded, eyebrows furrowed in anticipation as you watched his lips trail more kisses up your calve towards your thigh. His eyes locked with yours for a moment and your stomach dipped at the delicious look painting his face. He looked like a starving man about to devour his first meal.

As he approached your thighs, Joel repositioned himself on his knees. He gently lifted your legs and placed them over his shoulders, before returning to your supple flesh. “You really need it, huh?” he mused, dragging his tongue up towards your panties. When you could only swallow a lump in your throat and nod, voice dry, Joel cooed. “Poor baby.”

Unable to restrain yourself, your fingers threaded through Joel’s dark peppered hair, the thick curls lacing between each digit. You cradled his head in your hands, fighting the urge to finally make his lips meet your heat, and instead studied his face with quiet desperation.

“You want me to fuck you good, baby?” he asked. With his lips on the very edge of your panties planting a delicate kiss, he looked up at you for your response.

Your hands squeezed at his scalp as you nodded. “Please, Joel,” you whimpered, uttering his name for the first time. The sound seemed to trigger something in him as a glint of arousal flashed through his eyes.

“Say it all together,” Joel instructed, his warm breath fanning over the wet spot of your panties. He started to kiss through the fabric, letting his tongue suck and lick right where you were desperate for it.

Your head shot back in pleasure as you pulled Joel’s face against you. He allowed you to flatten his nose against your panties as you instinctively bucked your hips. “I want you to fuck me, Joel,” you whimpered, massaging his scalp as you held him against you. You grinded against his face. “A-And I want you to taste me.”

Joel growled in satisfaction as he swiped your panties to the side. Finally, you felt his breath directly on your skin, and keened at the sensation. Without missing a beat, he dragged his tongue up your opening, before taking your clit into his mouth. With a pleasurable hum, he sucked and stroked his tongue over your sensitive bundle of nerves. Meanwhile, his hands hugged your thighs, pulling your body against him as much as possible.

A white-hot euphoria overtook your body. With Joel in complete control, the only thing you could do was hold on and ride the wave he was sending you on. “Joel,” you tried to warn him, leaning over his body. His lips continued to work against you, his warm mouth like a magnet to your heat. “Joel, you’re gonna make me…” you trailed, continuing to cradle his head.

Joel hummed in response and massaged his fingers against your thighs. “That’s it, sweetheart,” he encouraged, nuzzling his nose into you. His mustache tickled with every word and the combination of sensations was becoming unbearable to handle. “That’s it, let me see how good you taste, baby,” he murmured.

You made the mistake of looking down at him and that was it – you were done. At the sight of his strong arms hugging your thighs on either side of his head, his sharp nose flattened against your core, and his deliciously dark eyes staring into yours, you felt an electric wash of pleasure cascade throughout your body.

You arched your back and practically wept as you came. Panting, you struggled to pull him off of you, his hungry mouth desperate to lap up everything you’d given. “J-Joel,” you whispered, desperate to catch your breath. “Too much,” you explained, but he was deaf to your plea, still eating away at you. The pleasure faded into an overstimulated pain as he pushed you onto your back and continued to work over your clit.

“I’m not done with you yet,” he murmured, finally giving you a break and kissing up through the pubic hair covering your mound towards your belly button. He pulled your shirt up over your breasts and tugged down your bra. As your nipple met the cool air, it was quickly warmed up by Joel’s hot mouth and rugged breathing.

As he feasted on your chest, you heard the fumbling of his belt buckle. In seconds, the leaking tip of his cock was teasing your entrance. You raised your head, desperate for a look at his cock tantalizingly close to your opening, but were blocked by Joel still on your chest.

“What is it, baby?” he asked, trailing his mouth to your collarbones. “You want to watch the moment I slide my cock inside of you?” he asked. His lips enclosed around your chin and nibbled up your jawline.

“Mhm,” you nodded with a fervent whimper. Joel smirked. He rested his forehead against your own and took in the sight of you watching him guide his cock inside. The combination of pain and pleasure was instant; as he stretched you open, your parted your legs wider,

“Oh, my God,” you whined as he bottomed out inside you. The way he filled you completely and pressed against you was unreal. Your hands clawed at his shoulders for purchase. “You’re so fucking big,” you said, your breath hitching as he began to establish a rhythm.

“Shhh,” he cooed, tucking your hair behind your ear as he increased his speed. “You can take it, baby,” he encouraged, burying his nose into your neck. “That’s my girl.”

Your eyes rolled into the back of your head at his praises. Every touch lit your body on fire: his pubic hair tickling against your clit, his thick girth filling you completely, and the tip that kept hitting that perfect spot deep inside you. As Joel wrapped his arms around you in an embrace, your body started to melt.

“Come on, baby,” Joel purred, feeling your body grow limp in his arms. “Stay with me.” He took one of his hands and slid it down your body. Before you could protest the contact, his finger was already toying with your clit.

“Joel!” you cried, keening at the overwhelming sensation. His callused finger continued to rub slow swirls over you as his mouth came to the corner of your own. “It’s okay, baby,” he murmured, kissing the edge of your lips, “you can take it.”

His other hand rose to the back of your neck and held your head steady as he stared into your eyes and continued to thrust into you. Just as your eyebrows began to furrow in pleasure, Joel’s mirrored yours, and you could feel his own orgasm nearing as his movements became sloppy.

“Come in me,” you begged, feeling that familiar pleasure wash over you a second time. “Please come in me, Joel,” you repeated, squeezing your eyes shut as your mouth fell open in ecstasy.

Joel squeezed the back of your neck. “Look at me, baby,” he pleaded, and it was then, just as you opened your watery eyes brimming with tears, that Joel grunted in pleasure and you felt his warm spend shooting deep inside of you. The moment seemed to last forever, until finally, Joel collapsed onto the table beside you.

“Jesus Christ,” Joel panted, his hand lazily reaching out to stroke your belly while he caught his breath. Your eyes stayed shut as you panted, tongue absentmindedly licking your lips as you savored the moment. “That was something.”

A goofy smile spread across your face as you came back to planet Earth. You turned to face him and he immediately wrapped his arms around you pulling you close. “Yeah, that was,” you agreed, burying your face into his neck. As you breathed in his scent again, you held back another moan at the feeling of his warm cum leaking from between your legs. “Fucking amazing,” you added.

Joel squeezed you against him and massaged your scalp as he held you close. For a moment, you two simply enjoyed the moment, the only sounds your shallow breathing and beating hearts.

Then you felt Joel angle his lips against your head. “By the way,” he trailed, his hand lowering to stroke your back. You felt his lips start to grin against you. “I never got a chance to ask: what’s your name?”

#joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller x you #joel miller fic #pedro pascal fic #tlou fic

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nerdytyrantphantom · 1 year

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🌸nerdytyrantphantom’s masterlist🌸

Warning: The following works are all explicit and rated 18+.

Requests: Open! Have something you want to read? Let me know.

Note: None of these works use “y/n”.

THE LAST OF US

S E R I E S

The Contractor Summary: A summer of house-sitting for your parents turns into a scorching affair as you find yourself irresistibly drawn to the charismatic contractor, Joel Miller, amidst the chaos of home renovations.

Part One

Trouble Summary: You’re in charge of cooking and preparing the meals for a subsidiary of the Jackson City commune. Life is monotonous yet manageable – until Joel Miller arrives.

Chapter 1: Say a Little Prayer

– – – – –

O N E - S H O T S

Business or Pleasure Summary: Joel Miller has always been all work and no play. But after a successful smuggling operation, he decides to celebrate the victory with you.

Shattered But Not Lonely Summary: Joel almost loses you after you’re held captive by raiders. After he rescues you and nurses you back to health, he intimately shows you just how much you mean to him.

Sharpshooter Summary: After a long game of cat-and-mouse, you finally have Joel Miller where you want him. Little do you know, you’ve walked right into his trap.

– – – – –

D R A B B L E S

cockwarming with joel

morning sex with joel

STRANGER THINGS

O N E - S H O T S

Murphy’s Law (Eddie Munson x f!reader) Summary: What happens when your truck breaks down at your best friend’s house late one cold, rainy night?

Some Like It Hot (Eddie Munson x Steve Harrington x f!reader) Summary: Your best friend Eddie and coworker Steve help you cool off on a hot summer’s day.

I Wanna Be Your Dog (Eddie Munson x f!reader) Summary: Your boyfriend Eddie gets nervous before his Corroded Coffin shows; you help calm his nerves.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller smut #pedro pascal fic #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #masterlist

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nerdytyrantphantom · 1 year

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morning sex with joel | drabble (18+)

a sequel to cockwarming with joel. 18+ MINORS DNI

your body had memorized what time your alarm would sound. and so like clockwork, you’d awaken an hour early, the morning sunlight streaming through the curtains and illuminating the pixie dust that floated in the air.

you’d wake up the same way you’d fallen asleep: on your side, with joel’s arms wrapped around you, the soft rise and fall of his chest undulating against your back, and his light sighs ghosting the crook of your neck. apart, neither of you slept, both tossing and turning throughout the night. but together, you two slept like rocks, encased in a blanket of safety and security knowing the other was there. if you had your way, you’d stay like this forever, fossilizing the moment in warm liquid amber.

when you woke up, you genuinely tried your best not to wake joel. you’d only stroke the toned arm that held you, tracing the scars etched into his skin, counting each freckle that sprinkled the surface. but the longer that time passed, the more you found yourself stirring just a bit, involuntarily grinding your hips against him as your core grew wet with want.

right on cue, you’d feel joel rouse awake and exhale a deep yawn. with a lazy squeeze of your breast, like he was trying to make sure you were right where you left him, nothing had changed – and of course it hadn’t – joel would hum with content and nuzzle his face further into your neck.

words weren’t needed. his hand would crawl up your chest towards the column of your neck, where his strong fingers would firmly grip. it wasn’t an aggressive or dominating move – rather a way for him to hold you in place as he guided his growing erection between your cheeks.

you’d smirk into the pillow as he gently bucked his hips, using your butt to warm himself up. your stomach somersaulted at the feeling of his cock hardening with each shallow thrust, the tip of him threatening to leak over your supple cheeks. “good morning, baby,” you’d purr, crossing your arms over his, refusing him from letting go of the hold he had on you. you’d arch your back into his touch, rolling your head back over his shoulder in surrender.

after his sleep, joel was full of energy. like a bear awakening from hibernation ready for its first meal, he would become full of carnal pangs, hungry and unsatiated – an appetite that needed to be fed. he’d testingly sink his teeth into your neck, softening his bite the second it became too sharp, and then tenderly lick the flesh that blossomed with a bruise, like he were delicately placing a band-aid.

while his left hand remained wrapped around your shoulders, holding your neck in place, his right hand would slide between your thighs with lazy curiosity. his fingertips would glide up your lips, spooning up the wetness oozing from your core, before plunging his lubricated index finger into your heat. carefully, he’d massage your pussy, feeling your body buzz and clench around his digit. with a hum of satisfaction, his finger becoming soaked in your juices, he’d slip his middle finger in after it.

for what felt like eternity most days, joel would do that. just hold your body flushed against him while he explored your insides, maintaining a leisurely pace finger-fucking you raw until droplets of perspiration collected on your forehead and pasted your hair to your face.

when you needed more, you’d tug his hand up to your lips, sucking his thumb into your mouth. “joel,” you’d whine, voice muffled by his finger. he’d continue to let you suck, pacifying your hushed pleas, while his fingers would teasingly move towards your clit. coated in your own juices, he’d wetten the small bundle of nerves with your own slick, drawing lazy circles over it until it was swelling like a flower in bloom. you’d cry out around his thumb, eyes prickling with tears at the pleasure.

finally, he would speak. “come on, baby,” he’d encourage in a hushed whisper, nosing against your cheek. he’d kiss away the tears of ecstasy that streamed down your face. “tell me what you need, sweet girl.”

eyes rolling into the back of your head, you’d release his thumb with a pop. “n-need you,” you’d whimper, mouth dry, as the blood rushed to your face. you got drunk off of joel – the sensation of his rough, calloused fingers toying with you like a plaything, the heat of his body radiating onto yours, the prodding of his cock still teasingly rubbing against your ass. “please, joel.”

he’d lower his hand from your lips and caress your jaw, delicately holding you like you were made of glass as he turned your face towards his. “shhh,” he’d coo, lips planting kisses all along your forehead, your cheeks, where your chin met your jaw. “‘gonna get you there, baby,” he’d promise, finally releasing his fingers from your clit and placing his hand on the inside of your thigh.

gently, he’d raise your leg before lining his cock with your entrance. at night, you were accustomed to him slowly working his way in, carefully easing himself inside with no rush or agenda. but now, when your pussy was dripping and begging to be filled, there was no need for patience. with one strong thrust, he’d push himself in until the thatch of hair above his cock pressed against your back.

you’d release a sharp cry followed by a sigh of relief. unable to restrain yourself, you’d shove back your hips, desperate for friction. “fuck,” you’d seethe, your hand reaching over your head to cling to joel’s hair. as your fingers threaded through his thick locks, you’d tug, a silent way of begging him for more.

joel knew what you needed and how to give it to you. he knew how to strike the perfect balance between gentle and rough, how hard he could push himself inside of you, and how to make you melt under a soft bouquet of kisses. and he knew when you were ready for him to guide you onto your stomach, making you parallel with the mattress, so that he could position himself as deep and close to you as possible.

flat on your stomach, you’d raise your hips for joel. what you two shared was a gift of reciprocity; you promised to give joel everything he wanted to take, and joel promised to deliver everything he had. with his arms caged around you, the comforting weight of his body pressed against your back, the wet squelch of joel stuffing you full was the only sound filling the air.

“fuck, baby,” joel would groan, his southern drawl and sleep-laced voice rocking further waves of arousal throughout your body. he’d lift himself up momentarily, watching the way his cock disappeared inside of you, while his palms would trace the contours of your back and shoulders. then he’d fall back down, burrowing his face back into your ear.

this was your favorite joel miller – the one who let you help him come undone and completely let go, living in the moment and allowing his body to be raptured in pleasure, unafraid to speak his mind. you’d listen to the unfiltered hymns spill from his mouth, savoring each word and phrase. “god,” he’d whimper, his body growing weak with pleasure. with his lips against your ear, his voice would travel throughout your body, straight to your heat, further clenching around him.

as his own sweat dripped onto you, both of your faces framed in wet strands of hair that clung to your skin, he’d continue. “your pussy takes me so well,” he’d murmur, the speed of his words quickening as he neared his climax. “so warm and so wet.” he’d grunt as his hips pounded against you more sloppily, the wet smack of his thighs echoing in the sun-soaked room. “it’s all for me, isn’t it?” he’d ask – a rhetorical question – but one that drove him to the edge when you answered it.

“yes, baby,” you’d plead, squeezing your pillow as joel hammered into you. the feeling of his body blanketing you was perfect, and despite the heat, you never wanted him to leave. “it’s all yours, joel,” you promised, grinding your hips up to meet his, close to your own orgasm. “always will be.”

a low groan fell from joel’s lips. he bucked his hips into you one, two, three times, before he was collapsing on top of you, your own shock of pleasure radiating throughout your body. as joel caught his breath, still buried against your ear, you closed your eyes and basked in the warmth of his cum filling you up and seeping from between your legs. you savored the moment for as long as it lasted, grateful to be joel miller’s escape.

“god, baby,” he’d pant, his sweat-soaked body still pressing against yours. “you’re so fucking perfect.” then he’d roll off of you, making you chest-to-chest, and pull you against him. with utmost tenderness, he’d swipe your hair out of your face, eyes taking in your tear-stricken ones, your rosy cheeks, swollen lips.

his mouth would crack into a crooked smile as his fingers tucked your hair behind your ears. “you know that?” he’d ask, pecking the corner of your lips. resting his forehead against your own, he’d repeat it: “you’re perfect.”

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller smut #joel miller fic #pedro pascal fic #tlou fic #drabble

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nerdytyrantphantom · 1 year

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cockwarming with joel | drabble (18+)

cockwarming with joel. that’s it, that’s the post. MINOR DNI

you knew the nights that he needed it. you’d already be tucked into bed in nothing but a t-shirt reading a book by the warm glow of a lamp when you’d hear him: the slow twist of the latch unlocking, the gentle close of the door behind him, and the heavy sigh as he sat down to untie his boots for the day. over time, you’d learned he preferred to come home this way – in silence and without a welcome party, despite how much you always wanted to wrap your arms around his neck the second he walked through the door. but joel didn’t like feeling like you’d been waiting on him. and he had learned how to ask for what he needed.

laying on your side with your back to the bedroom entrance, your tired eyes would struggle to read the lines of your novel. joel’s feet would pad into the room, rousing you back awake, and the fact he was home would be enough comfort to nearly slip you back into a slumber.

as curfew struck, silence would fall over the streets of the qz like a blanket. the only sounds would be the dull buzz of the lamp’s lightbulb, the hushed crinkle as you turned the pages of your book, and joel’s fingers as he unbuttoned his shirt. you’d hear the unzipping of his fly followed by the soft thud of his pants falling into a heap on the floor. and then, there it was – the gentle dip of the mattress.

just as his calloused hand would glide over the curve of your hip, his nose would settle into place in the nook between your neck and shoulder. the sound of him inhaling your scent would send your eyes closing in satisfaction as his fingers would gently caress your soft skin.

“hi, baby,” you’d whisper, your voice barely audible. joel would hum in response as you’d lift his hand that was splayed across your belly, tenderly kissing each bruised and cut knuckle. “‘m glad you’re home.” with one last kiss, you’d return his hand to your stomach and let him continue to touch you as he pleased.

then his hand would trail further down your body, to the hem of your shirt, where his fingertips would ghost the top of your thigh. it was his way of silently asking for permission, his nose burying into your neck as he waited for your admittance. you’d slightly part your legs and arch your back, just enough to give him access, before your breath would hitch at the sensation of his cock breaching your entrance.

you never got tired of it. the stretch of your opening followed by the rich fullness of joel’s cock sheathed in your wet warmth. sleepy and satisfied, a lone tear would prickle your eye and tempt to spill onto your pillow as you eased into the sensation of joel inside you. and joel did the same. as he became enveloped by your soft and soaked heat, he’d tighten his embrace and pull you as close as he could as you spooned. he’d turn his lips towards you ear, the hairs of his mustache tickling your lobe and making you giggle, as he murmured earnestly, “thank you, baby.”

and like that, your body would fall limp, joel’s melting right beside yours, and together you’d hold one another as you fell into a deep sleep.

-- -- --

read the sequel: morning sex with joel

#joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller x you #joe miller fic #pedro pascal fic #tlou fic #drabble

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nerdytyrantphantom · 1 year

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TROUBLE | Chapter 1: Say a Little Prayer

Summary: You and Tommy Miller were responsible for providing a small sector of Jackson City their bread and booze. Life is monotonous yet manageable —and then one day Joel Miller arrived. Pairing: Joel Miller x F!Reader (No use of “Y/N.”) Word count: 3.2k Warnings: MINORS DNI 18+ implied SA attempt, blood (from an accidental knife cut), language. Smut in future chapters. AO3 Link: click here A/N: If you like slow burns and character development, this is for you. :) Also, this is my first TLOU fic—lmk if you have something you’d like to read!

On the outskirts of Jackson City, Wyoming, an A-framed ski lodge called The Summit pierced the sky. Towering pine trees lined the rustic structure, providing ample protection from the elements through harsh winters. Not far from the stone trail that led to the establishment’s entrance, a babbling stream weaved through the mountainous landscape. In another time period, the scene would’ve made a perfect postcard. But in this world, it was simply a safe haven for a subsidiary of the greater Jackson City commune.

Far on the west wing of the lodge, tucked away in the kitchen, you spent your evenings cooking suppers, washing dishes, and prepping the next day’s meals. For the most part, you couldn’t complain: you got the entire dining hall and kitchen area to yourself. Most importantly, it was a sufficient distraction from the rest of the world. At least, that was the case most nights.

But tonight wasn’t like most nights.

You were retrieving the last remaining dirty dishes from the expo window when you saw them: a cohort of soon-to-be belligerent men filing through the double doors. The bartender – Tommy – had instilled a rule that folks could drink on premise so long as it was done safely inside the lodge. In other words, the men would leave for days at a time scavenging for booze, and return to the bar for Tommy to pour it for them. “It keeps them from doing anything stupid on their own,” Tommy had said while wiping down the countertops, “while giving me the chance to make sure they don’t push their limits.”

The lingering families from the dinner crowd quickly took this as their cue to leave just as you knew to retreat to the back of the kitchen. You dropped the dirty dishes into the warm, sudsy water that filled the sink and submerged your arms to wash each plate clean. Once that was finished, you wiped down a cutting board and fetched a slab of meat to prep tomorrow’s meals.

It was here that you felt the most at peace. There was something therapeutic about sharpening your knife on the honing steel, perfecting the edge, and losing yourself in the monotonous task of carving and cutting the meat.

“The moment I wake up,” you sang to yourself in a blind focus, “before I put on my make-up.” But before you could sing the next line, a raucous clatter of pots and pans reverberated from behind you. Your knife sliced through your finger, unzipping the skin, and blood was already bubbling to the surface. But this was a secondary concern – your first was confronting the source of the noise behind you.

You spun around to see who else but Curtis: one of Jackson City’s infamous drunks.

A guilty smile crept across his gaunt face. “Whoops,” he said. His beady eyes scanned the monochromatic cookware that now littered the floor then slowly returned to you. “My bad,” he chuckled.

“What do you want, Curtis?” you asked, squeezing your left hand into a fist to put pressure on the bleeding. Curtis was oblivious to your wound.

“Haven’t seen you in a while,” he said, swaying towards you. He used a hand to slick his thinning hair back and attempted a wink.

You stood your ground, your right hand that still held your knife now squeezing just as tightly as your left. “I know,” you agreed.

The smell of dark liquor permeated the cool air of the kitchen as he moved closer. His hand drifted down towards the fly of his pants, fumbling with the button. “Miss seeing you around more,” he pouted.

“Curtis,” you said calmly. Blood was beginning to drip from your hand onto the gray tiled floors.

As he took a step closer, you took a step back. Your body leaned against the table until it was pressed against the wall leaving you cornered.

“What’re you holdin’ that knife for, swee’heart?” he slurred, each word a jumbled sound falling out of his mouth with no rhythm or purpose. He was only a step away from you now, his fingers finally releasing the button of his jeans.

“I was back here working,” you said. Your voice didn’t shake, but you couldn’t ignore the panic slowly starting to course through your veins.

“And you’re gonna let her get back to doing that,” someone interjected. It was a deep voice you’d never heard before, tinged with the same southern drawl as Tommy’s. And though the stranger’s words were simple, the message cut through the air like a cleaver – an undeniable warning in the tone – stunning both you and Curtis into silence.

You turned to stare at the stranger: Joel Miller – the lone wolf who’d shown up to the settlement just a week or so ago with a pup he called Ellie. You knew nothing about him other than that he was Tommy’s older brother.

His brown eyes were bloodshot – no doubt he’d been at the bar with the others – but there was a sober rage sleeping beneath the surface. His alcohol didn’t inebriate him like the others. At least not now.

“Whoa, whoa, hey now,” Curtis said, raising his hands to prove his innocence. He immediately began to retreat at the sight of Joel. “I don’t want no trouble,” he said, cheeks fading from red to pale. His forehead shined with sweat.

“Get moving then,” Joel ordered, advancing on Curtis. He roughly grabbed the surrendering man by the shoulder and shoved him towards the exit. “Now.”

Once Curtis was out of view, Joel turned to you. You’d never seen the man up close before and found it hard not to stare. He was a man of contrasts; behind his glassy, red eyes there was an unmistakable softness. But right now they were hardened and full of rage. His tanned skin spoke of days under the sun, and his brunette hair was peppered with flecks of gray, seemingly betraying his age.

His voice softened, but just barely. “You alright?” he asked. He took a step closer to you and gestured to your finger.

For a moment you’d forgotten all about your injury. You raised your hand to inspect the wound and grimaced at the blood now staining the crevices of your palm. “Y-Yeah, I’m good. Just nicked it is all,” you said. You both knew that was an understatement.

“Can I look?” Joel asked, careful not to encroach. After you gave him a swift nod, he carefully lifted your hand to his eye level. While his eyes focused on your finger, your own eyes drifted over his body: the broad shoulders, round biceps, and fitted button-down that hugged his frame. “Looks deep,” he noted. You returned your gaze to your finger.

Joel gently released your hand and straightened his stance. “Need help stitching it up?” he asked. He placed his hands on his hips and looked around the kitchen.

“I’m good,” you said. But to be honest, you felt lightheaded – and not entirely in a bad way. While the initial shock of Curtis’s actions lingered, you were also still taken aback by Joel’s kindness. You offered him a small smile. “Not the first time it’s happened.”

Joel tried to return your smile, but just ended up looking pained, the anger still evident across his face. “Alright then,” he said with finality and a slight nod. “I’m sorry for the trouble.”

And just as starkly as he had appeared, Joel Miller headed out of the kitchen, leaving you alone with your wound – and the budding hope that you may see him again.

The next morning you woke up to your finger still throbbing. You thought little of it, however, and proceeded to get dressed for the day.

As you buttoned your pants, memories of last night flooded your head. You grimaced at the thought of Curtis – his glistening upper lip and rat-like features. The way his gangly fingers fumbled with his fly.

But then you allowed your mind to drift to Joel. You thought about the way his strong hands effortlessly subdued Curtis. The piercing concentration of his deep, brown eyes. And the scruff that contoured his boyish yet masculine face…

Where had he come from–both in general, and specifically last night? Had he overheard the commotion caused by Curtis in the kitchen? And why did he seem like he was genuinely concerned about you?

You shook your head to physically shoo away the thoughts. There was no point in humoring these ideas.

With Joel finally out of your head, you began your walk down the residential wing of The Summit towards the dining hall. Another perk of being part of the kitchen crew was having your own set of keys. Late in the mornings, you and Tommy would briefly reconvene over a steaming pot of coffee. Then he would disappear into the back to count inventory, while you enjoyed sitting next to one of the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the Wyoming wilderness. In the corner of the room, a hand-cranked portable record player rested, playing the sweet sounds of Dionne Warwick and Sam Cooke. This was a rare moment of peace - enjoying a hot cup of coffee, listening to music, and basking in the sunbeam. However, upon unlocking the doors to the dining hall, you were surprised to find Joel engaged in a heated conversation with Tommy at the empty bar.

“I’m telling you, Tommy, I’m up to my ears in shit with him,” Joel seethed, leaning over the counter. He hadn’t noticed you’d entered the lodge until Tommy cleared his throat and nodded in your direction.

“Morning,” Tommy called, dismissing Joel entirely.

Joel glanced over his shoulder at you and for a moment, you were caught in his intense gaze. His eyes held a mix of anger and something else that you couldn't quite place. You quickly averted your eyes, feeling a flush creeping up your neck.

“Morning,” you replied, making your way to the coffee pot. “Didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“Oh, no – not at all,” Tommy assured you, beating you to the coffee pot. “This one’s yours,” he said, filling a mug and setting it on the empty bar next to Joel, who was nursing his own cup. You cautiously took a seat beside him.

“Have you two met before?” Tommy asked cordially, standing on the opposite side of the bar between the two of you.

“Sort of–” you said. “Not formally–” Joel spoke. You both hushed, exchanging a quick glance.

A smirk began to sneak across Tommy’s face as he raised an eyebrow. “Do I wanna know?” he teased playfully, oblivious to the tension in the air.

Joel quickly spoke up to explain before Tommy could jump to any conclusions. “Curtis got in the kitchen last night.”

Tommy’s smirk fell into a solemn line. "Curtis got into the kitchen?" he repeated, a flicker of recognition crossing his face. He turned to you for confirmation, and you nodded. "Where was I when that happened?" he asked, puzzled. Joel explained that he had been taking out the trash.

Tommy smacked his rag against the counter. “Jesus,” he sighed, pacing behind the bar. “Look, I’m sorry I let that happen,” Tommy regretted. “He didn’t hurt you, did he?”

You immediately shook your head. “No,” you promised. “I just cut my finger is all. Wasn’t expecting him, you know.”

Silence fell, and you glanced at the pair to see them communicating through a stare you couldn’t decode. “Anyway,” you said, feeling uncomfortable. “The cut’s healing nicely.” You proudly raised your hand to show off your blood-soaked bandage.

The tension suddenly dissipated as Joel muffled a laugh.

He stared at your hand and then back at you. A timid smile began to form on his face, making your cheeks flush. He glanced at Tommy before returning his eyes to you.

“Look,” Joel began kindly, his tone making you nervous. “You may be sharp with a knife, but your bandaging skills leave room for improvement.”

Confused, you examined your finger – the haphazardly bandaging, the red splotches soaked through the absorbent pad – and fought a lopsided smile. Guilty.

“I didn’t think it was that bad,” you gently defended, taking a swig from your coffee.

“I’ll just say it could be a lot better,” Joel insisted. He downed his last sip of coffee and stood from his barstool. “Come on. I’ll patch it up right for you.”

Tommy suppressed a smile, but his reassuring nod gave you the confidence to take his brother up on his offer.

You followed Joel down the residential wing, the late morning sunlight pouring in through the expansive windows to your left. The clear blue sky and towering forest outside were a sight to behold, with wildflowers springing up from the earth. The newness of spring made you smile to yourself.

After a moment, Joel broke the silence. "I didn't catch your name."

“Oh, right,” you remembered, oddly feeling like you’d known Joel much longer than you had. You told him your name and he repeated it to himself. “That’s nice,” he commented quietly.

Just as another smile fought to adorn your face, Joel stopped at one of the apartment doors and began digging in his pocket for his keys. But it wasn’t just any door he had stopped at – it was the one right next door to yours. You were neighbors.

Before you could comment on the coincidence, Joel opened the door. The apartment was identical to yours – a small kitchen, square living room, with two bedrooms on either side of a bathroom – except for it had fewer possessions.

“Here,” Joel said, dragging a chair out from under the table for you to sit in. He disappeared into the bathroom and returned with a first-aid kit.

He dragged a second chair in front of you and fell to the seat. “Alright,” he said, scooting towards you. “Let me take a look.”

As Joel meticulously unwrapped your shoddy bandaging, you felt the same heat you’d felt the night before begin to spread through your body like wildfire. What was it about Joel Miller that made you feel instantly safe – and incredibly turned on? You fought away your dirty thoughts as crimson blossoms bloomed up your neck and onto your cheeks.

Trying to look anywhere but his face – and desperate to hide your flushed complexion – you let your head hang down. But even that was a mistake, for now your eyes were trained on his thighs, weak at the sight of his legs securely placed on both sides of your own. Your leg began to bounce.

“You okay?” Joel asked, pausing from his task. When you could only stare in confusion, Joel glanced down at your antsy leg.

“Oh,” you realized, embarrassed. “No, yeah. Sorry. I’m good.” You attempted a reassuring smile.

A small smile ghosted Joel’s lips. “Okay,” he said, returning to your finger. He poured a bottle cap’s worth of Peroxide over the cut, the white liquid foaming to the surface, and you winced. “You know,” Joel continued, taking your mind off the stinging sensation. “Tommy’s told me some stories. Sounds like you’re pretty good with a knife. You know, in spite of this,” he teased, nodding towards your finger.

For a moment, you wondered what stories Tommy had shared. Most of them weren’t ones you were keen to remember. Despite that, though, you found an odd source of comfort in knowing Joel knew more about you than you’d originally thought.

You relaxed a bit in your chair. “I should be by this point, considering I spend most of my days cutting meat and vegetables,” you joked, keeping the conversation lighthearted to avoid going down the dark path of memory lane.

Joel delicately squeezed a tube of ointment over your freshly cleaned incision. You swore you could feel his body heat toasting you up like a radiator. “Well, I guess that makes me feel safer knowing you can handle yourself if things get rough.”

You finally allowed yourself to look at Joel’s eyes, which were still zeroed in on your wound. You lowered your voice just a touch. “You planning on causing any trouble?” you teased.

Joel’s tongue toyed at the inside of his cheek. He looked up at you through his eyelashes, a grin daring to tug at his lips. “No, ma’am,” he promised, letting his eyes linger on yours. For a moment, his gaze drifted to your lips, before returning to your eyes again. “No trouble from me.”

A comfortable if not passionate silence burned between you. You watched without fear of being caught as Joel finished rewrapping your finger.

“There,” he said, gently releasing your finger from his calloused hands. He sat back in his chair and rested his hands on his knees. “Good as new.”

“Thank you,” you said, your voice coming out much quieter than you intended. You cleared your throat. “I really appreciate it.”

Joel assessed you opposite in his chair, head slightly cocked to the side. As usual, his expression was difficult to decipher completely, but for the most part, he seemed content – maybe even happy. A humble smile that made your stomach dip adorned his face. “Anytime,” he said.

The two of you sat in silence, but it was a comfortable one. After a moment, you spoke up. "I meant to mention earlier, when we came in – I live next door."

“That so?” Joel asked, raising an eyebrow.

You tried not to squirm so much in your seat. “Yeah,” you confirmed, flashing another smile. “Right there,” you pointed to the wall on the east of his apartment.

There was an alluring glint in Joel’s eyes as he leaned over in his chair towards you, opening his mouth to speak. “Well, I think –” he started to say, until the apartment door suddenly flung open.

“What the fuck, Joel?” a young girl exclaimed, slinging a backpack onto the floor without abandon. “Barely here a week and you’re already bringing home girls?” she teased.

“Ellie,” Joel snapped, squeezing the bridge of his nose. “Please. This is our neighbor. I was just helping her fix up a cut she got.”

“Oh shit!” The young rushed over towards you. “Can I see?” she asked, childlike curiosity overruling the morbid nature of her request.

You couldn’t help but find her enthusiasm endearing. “Sorry, kiddo,” you smiled, “it’s all patched up now. But if I get another one, you’ll be the first to know.”

Ellie shrugged and accepted that answer. “Cool. I’m Ellie, by the way.”

“That’s a pretty name,” you complimented, before telling her your own. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ellie.”

Ellie playfully elbowed Joel in the ribs. “Oh, I assure you,” she said, wiggling her eyebrows at Joel, “the pleasure’s all mine.”

“Ellie,” Joel repeated. “Out.”

Ellie gave you and Joel a salute followed by a bow, before flinging her backpack over her shoulder and disappearing into her bedroom.

Joel stared at you silently, unsure whether to explain the boisterous teenager who’d just interrupted, or to return to what he was originally going to say.

But you beat him to the punch with a genuine smile: “Welcome to the neighborhood, Joel. I’m glad you’re here.”

#joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller x you #joel miller fic #pedro pascal fic #tlou fic

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