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futureman · 8 months

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give in

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

summary: joel shows you how to love yourself the way you deserve

warnings: 18+ MDNI, jackson era, soft!joel, age gap, comfort, smut, size kink, guided masturbation, mutual masturbation, fingering, exploring sexual trauma, mentions of guilt & shame, intrusive thoughts

word count: 2.8k

“Doin’ real good, baby. That’s it, nice and slow. No need to rush it.”

Joel needs you to believe it.

He can feel your discomfort and sense the intrusive thoughts threatening to overtake you, but he needs you to know that everything you're doing right now is okay.

It’s normal and natural, and, under his roof, highly encouraged. All he's ever wanted is for you to feel good. For you to allow yourself the grace and gratification of coming undone at your own, perfect hand.

But you live by an unspoken rule, one that doesn't apply to anyone else but you. There's nothing you love more than watching Joel touch himself, whether it's quick and dirty, or drawn-out and meticulous, his body teetering on the edge of all-consuming release for hours. Yet, when it comes to your personal pleasure, there’s only shame.

He's beginning to realize that your aversion goes beyond a lack of education. You were young when the outbreak hit, and while FEDRA schools aren’t exactly known for their top-tier sex ed classes, that isn't what's holding you back.

There's something else there, too, buried beneath the surface. A lifetime's worth of guilt and doubt that he alone gets the privilege of unraveling. So, whenever you come to him for help, he leads you to his bed and gently coaxes you to self-completion.

He takes it slow and keeps his hands to himself unless you tell him otherwise—and you always tell him otherwise. But those are your boundaries to set. New, spoken rules to replace the old ones.

Pressed firmly into your side, he whispers soft reassurances in your ear, his lips brushing the wispy baby hairs framing your forehead with every word. He swallows every gasp and moan, and cherishes the sharp sting of your nails biting into his skin as you reach your peak.

And when you come down from the clouds and turn to him with hazy eyes and a blissful smile, he knows it's all worth it. Even if it takes years more, he’ll continue to talk you through it, banishing the cruel thoughts that plague you and replacing them with the promise of relief.

Just like he is right now.

"Tell me what you're feelin'. I wanna know what's goin' on in that pretty head of yours."

You shake your head, exhaling a long, frustrated breath. Your body never responds to you the way it does to Joel, and, on the rare occasion it does, it just isn't the same. It takes too long, and there's none of the gradual build-up that allows you to lose yourself in it. Not in the pleasure of it, anyway.

"S'a little...dry," you mumble, slowing to a stop. It'll start to burn if you keep going like this, but you're not sure what else you can do. Joel presses a gentle kiss to the shell of your ear before pulling back.

"Lemme see your hand, sugar," he says, gesturing for yours with his own. Confused, you remove your fingers from between your legs to hold up in front of his face.

You're waiting for him to inspect them, or come up with a valid reason why they're not working, when he abruptly sucks them into his mouth. His tongue feels hot, searingly so, as he laves over the pads of your middle and ring fingers, then dips between them to caress your knuckles down to where they meet.

A wave of heat almost identical to the one enveloping your hand begins to pool at the base of your spine, and you feel a sudden, heady whoosh at the apex of your thighs. If he could just keep doing that, exactly that, but further down your body—

But, to your disappointment, he stops as suddenly as he started and slides your fingers from his mouth with a lewd pop before guiding them back to your core.

"How 'bout now?" he asks earnestly, and Christ. He's so good at that. He always knows how to work your body, even by proxy.

You're wet. You don't even need the added moisture of Joel's saliva, anymore. Just the action itself has you breathing heavier, enticing a craving you never knew you had. Your fingers slip clumsily through the slick leaking out of you, and your eyelids flutter at the fleeting sensation of your fingertips catching your entrance.

"B-better...feels better," you stumble over your words. Your fingers continue to explore your folds without your permission, stoking the fire in your belly. And also your doubt. "But I'm—J-Joel it's..."

That telltale embarrassment is starting to creep in again, reminding you that you're doing something wrong. It feels too good, and you really don't want to stop, but what does that say about you? Sinner, slut. The intrusive thoughts are louder than Joel's gentle panting in your ear, now.

As if he can hear them, he snakes a hand past your stomach to grip the soft plush of your thigh. He spreads you open for him, exposing your cunt to the open air as he massages soothing shapes into your skin, silencing the ugly words with his kind touch.

"S'alright, sugar, you can keep goin'. You liked that, right? That's good. You're treatin' your body the way she deserves," he says encouragingly. His hand inches closer to where you're dribbling onto the sheets, but stops the moment his thumb reaches your coarse curls.

You ache to wrap your soaked fingers around his to tug him closer, but you know you can't. And that feels surprisingly okay. For the first time in a long time, you're actually keeping yourself sated enough without his help.

Now that your legs are parted, it all feels...different. Heightened, almost. It's because you're hyperaware of every movement you're making, you realize, and it turns you on way more than it should. Or, no. No. Exactly as much as it should.

Joel isn't immune to it, either.

As your bedroom fills with the sounds of crisp, rustling sheets and the slick motions of your fingers roaming your folds, you can feel Joel fighting harder not to rut into your side. His body is tense beside you, and the bicep pillowing your head flexes intermittently every time your hips swivel to meet your hand. His praise is also starting to take on an edge, now tinged with something a little...filthier.

"Y'hear that? You're gettin' so loud, sugar. So wet," he grits out, his expression pained. "Just look at'cha. Needy, perfect girl. Doin' everythin' right."

His eyes dart up to your face, observing the delicate scrunch of your nose and your parted lips. He's watching you a little too intently, likely to avoid the image of your glistening palm and fingertips working to bring yourself closer and closer to the edge. You're making a huge mess.

And it's making Joel hard as a rock. Twitching and leaking, and temptingly bare against the sweet friction of your hip bone. You know he's doing everything he can to focus on you, but he can't even begin to imagine how much his reaction is spurring you on.

More. You want to give yourself so much more.

"Joel, I don't think I'm doing it right," you twist to whine into his tousled, graying hair. You breathe him in, and the familiar scent of pine and suede makes your head spin and your fingers stutter. "S'not enough. I-I need more, I keep losing it."

He sucks in a harsh breath through his teeth, wrenching his gaze away from you to glance down the bed. Christ, he can't even hide how badly he wants to touch you. His cock jerks the moment he catches sight of you again, smearing precum across your skin, and you involuntarily mimic him, your hips bucking up into your unpracticed touch.

Blunt nails dig into your thigh before his hand trails back up to your stomach. It trembles as he guides you, languidly and with a hint of desperation.

"S'okay, just follow me," he instructs you, swirling his middle and ring fingers in a tight circle around your belly button. You shiver at the raspiness of his voice. "Right around your clit. Remember where that is?"

But before you can shake your head, his arm slides out from under you and he shifts further down your body to lean over you, propping himself on his elbow. His fingers continue their ministrations on your stomach while he moves lower to gently tug up the hood of your clit, revealing your swollen nub.

"Fuckin' hell," he swears quietly under his breath, his stomach visibly tensing. He's careful to steer clear of everything else, giving you enough space to heed his lesson.

"Alright, c'mere, sugar. There ya go. See? You remember," he releases you, shifting a hand to your thigh and wrapping the other tightly around the base of his cock. He keens, his back nearly bowing with the pent-up tension in his body. "That's it. Nice, tight circles. Just like when I make you cum with my mouth."

You choke on your next moan, squeezing your eyes shut as you're suddenly inundated with memories of Joel between your legs, fucking you with his tongue until you gush into his mouth. You press down harder, swirl faster. No guilt, no disgust. It all still feels so good.

He notices the change in your breathing immediately and begins to stroke himself in time with the rapid rise and fall of your breasts. The hazel of his eyes sharpens to pitch black. A warning, preparing you for the ecstasy to come.

"Oh, you like that, huh? S'good, you're doin' so good. Can ya give yourself two fingers? Wanna show ya all the ways I make you squeeze mine," he croons, teasing just below the ridge of his head with his thumb while he waits for your response.

"I...yeah, y-yes," you whimper, your brows furrowing as you slip your fingers lower to circle your entrance. But as you start to press into yourself, you hesitate. "W-wait, it feels like too much. I don't want it to hurt."

At that, he all but winces like he's in physical pain, and his hand shoots to the base of his cock again, squeezing hard.

"Christ," he grits through his teeth, but it sounds more akin to a growl. It wasn't your intention to make him fight his own body like this, but you won't lie and say you're not devouring every second of it. He exhales sharply through his nose to ground himself. "Does it feel good when ya take my cock?"

Those dark eyes are on yours, now, but somehow they're still so gentle. He's not saying any of this for himself. You can tell, it's all for you. Reminders that you can do this if you want it, and that he'd never ask you to do anything that could harm you.

You nod quickly because it does feel good. You need him to know that having his cock inside you feels so, so good.

"Look at those pretty, little fingers of yours. They bigger than I am?"

Your eyes drop to where his hand is still wrapped tightly around himself. He's leaking all over his fingers, thick and tinged an angry shade of red.

"No, Joel. You're bigger," you whisper, your pleasure intensifying the longer you watch him. His lips quirk into the beginnings of a smirk.

"Now, ya don't have to. You can get yourself there just like that. S'just as good," his drawl commands your attention. "But I think you'd like knowin' how it feels like to cum around 'em—"

The tips of your fingers begin to sink into your heat before he finishes his sentence. The sensation is...everything. Too much to keep your eyes from rolling back or your jaw from dropping. It's so different. As you bottom out, you wonder how this is even possible for Joel. How he ever manages to fit.

"S'hard to move," you pump your fingers in and out experimentally, moaning quietly at the addictive way they drag against your sensitive walls.

You're not too naive to realize your body stretches to accommodate him, but you're too caught up in the sight of his hand resuming its previous pace to recall that knowledge. He looks a little desperate now and sounds even more so.

"Fuck me. S'it tight? Tell me, sugar. Tell me how tight ya are," he pants heavily, unable to stop himself from fucking into his fist. You unknowingly match his pace, clenching around yourself every time your palm slaps into your clit.

"M'so tight, Joel. And wet and warm," your eyes flutter closed as you lose yourself in the beauty of your own body.

Letting the slick sound of his hand slamming into his pelvic bone be your guide, you bring yourself closer and closer to your own, distinctive state of nirvana. The same explosive release Joel gives you all the time that you're finally allowing your body to experience with itself.

"Joel, I'm...I...," you sob around your words, barely able to force them out as your entire being quakes with your impending orgasm. "...I can't—m'gonna cum, Joel, I can't."

Without warning, he throws a leg over your body to straddle your hips and crashes his lips into yours. He continues to work himself as he coaxes your mouth open, his tongue brushing yours fleetingly before he pulls back.

"Ya can. Let go, sugar. Give in to it, s'okay. I got ya, I'm right here," he breathes against your lips, and you tilt your head to meet his again. When your head drops back onto the bed, your eyes are pleading. You need his help.

And he understands. That's what he's here for.

"Cum with me," he murmurs, dropping his forehead to yours. "C'mon, perfect girl, you deserve it."

You believe him. The shame and never-ending guilt that twists and snags like barbed wire in your chest is nowhere to be found right now. There's only silence, save for you and Joel teetering on the cusp, and his tender reassurances in your ear. He's right. You can have this.

"Ngh—Joel, it's...cumming. Fuck, fuck, m'cumming."

It creeps up on you, a gentle crescendo that abruptly peaks, then slams into you like a freight train. His name leaves your lips in a sharp exhale of sheer relief, repeated like a prayer while you ride it out.

You're vaguely aware of a ragged, drawn-out groan above you as you soak the sheets beneath you, your cunt squeezing your fingers hard with every spasm, just like he said it would. You feel it all.

Then, you feel him, splattering across your stomach and breasts in thick, white streaks, his release as messy and prolonged as yours. Gasping, you continue through your aftershocks together until sensitivity sets in.

Joel collapses on the bed next to you and immediately pulls you into his arms, uncaring of the sticky, drying residue smearing between you. He cups your cheek and kisses you, firmly but chastely, before reluctantly pulling away.

His eyes search yours carefully like he's looking for something. Peace, maybe? A sense of calm, an absence of the cloudiness he so often sees there and fights to keep at bay. Whatever it is, he must've found it because, then, his lips are on yours again, a longer, deeper kiss that you melt into with loose limbs and a light heart.

"How we doin', sugar?" he asks tentatively as he parts from you.

You take a moment to respond, appraising your body and everything it can sense right now. The wetness between your legs and on your chest, your aching wrist and thighs, and that sweet, pleasant buzz settling at the top of your spine.

"Good," you tell him honestly. You gaze up at him with a blissful smile, preening at the affectionate one he gives you in return, before burying your face in the crook of his neck.

"Thanks...for this," you continue, mumbling carefully into the warmth of his skin. "And for putting up with me. I know all of this is shitty and weird, and not fun. Just...thank you—for never giving up on me."

He sighs, pulling you impossibly closer and enveloping you in his strong, soothing embrace. It feels safe here. In Joel's bed, surrounded by his scent and heat, and unwavering patience, you start to feel hopeful. He lifts your hand to his lips and softly kisses the pads of each finger, then the center of your palm.

"Ya don't have to thank me for any of that. We'll keep doin' this, s'long as it takes," he murmurs, urging you out of your hiding spot to meet his eyes. "Not a damn thing wrong with ya. Ya hear me? You're perfect."

Maybe one day, you'll be able to believe him outside of this bedroom. But, for right now, you just feel lucky to be loved by a man like Joel. One who accepts your trauma and your past, and will always be there to save you, even from yourself.

thanks for reading!

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

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thyme-in-a-bubble · 1 year

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sunrise

plum, chapter fourteen

warnings: Joel Miller x reader, MILD SPOILERS for the last of us (both games and the hbo series), timeline wise this is set in between the first and second game (so when they live in Jackson), slow burn, age gap (20 years), heavy angst, rape recovery, ptsd, nightmares, panic attack, crying

word count: 629

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An immediate cry burst free as you jolted awake. Panting, your body blurred the line between reality and dream, and you slowly sat up in bed. Feeling the mattress dip beside you, a groggy hand brushed against your thigh, which you instinctually shifted, clutching both your knees to your chest as tears dripped from your chin down onto the duvet below. Hearing a soft groan as the man beside you woke, it didn’t take long before your sobs pierced his peaceful rest.

“Y/n?” you felt Joel sit up beside you.

“I-,” you gasped for air, “I can’t breathe.”

“Okay, alright,” you shakily turned your head to look at him, “just, um, look at me, focus on me,” he haphazardly thought of a way to help, “you’re right here, you’re in Jackson, you’re safe,” he abstained the urge to reach out and touch you, almost as if it could burn him, or maybe more correctly, that he could burn you.

Trembling, your hand found his, vibrating against it for but a moment before he enveloped his long fingers around it, his shoulders relaxing slightly at the gesture. Your chaotic eyes flickered down towards his chest for guidance, your laboured breathing still lived on as short little puffs that were beginning to make you feel like you’d faint.

Noticing, Joel raised your clasped hands up and pressed them against his chest, letting your palm feel how it rose and fell underneath his worn t-shirt. Gradually, as the soft thumping of his heart tickled your palm and accompanied the intakes of air, you regained more control and your own lungs began to return to a more normal pace. Eventually, your desperate sobs turned into just a gentle trickle of tears till they too began to run out.

“I’m sorry I woke you,” you uttered, absolutely exhausted from that start to your day.

“It’s fine,” his thumb brushed over the back of your hand, then after a moment asked you softly, “are you okay?”

“I-, uh,” a shiver ran down your spine, “I don’t know…”

“Okay,” Joel nodded simply, letting your enveloped hands drift down from the guiding touch against his chest.

Glancing wearily out the nearby window, you uttered absentmindedly, “it’s not light out yet.”

“No, it is not,” he agreed softly.

Having no idea how many hours were left of the eerie night, you spoke, “you should go back to sleep, you can probably still get enough rest to somewhat resemble a human tomorrow.”

“Do you wanna go back to sleep?”

“No,” your answer came out instantly, the shadowy moonlight keeping the memories of the nightmare alive and preventing you from shaking it completely, “I don’t-, I-… No.”

“Okay,” his voice again was as soft as the duvet that enveloped you, “what do you need right now? What could help?”

“I don’t know…” your lip quivered as tears welled up in your eyes once more, “I just want it to be day again. You know, things are always a bit better when the sun is out… maybe that’s silly, but it just feels like it. Things kinda loosen their grip on you easier when you’re not drowning in darkness…”

“So, then we’ll wait,” he shifted his fingers to improve his grip on your hand.

“Oh, you don’t have to wait with me, it’s okay, I’m okay now that I’m awake-” you attempted, but with little success as he interrupted your fib.

“We will wait,” his eyes found yours in the darkness.

“…Okay,” you exhaled, your shoulders relaxing a bit.

And there you remained for who knows how long, watching together from the warm bed as the dark skies out the nearby window lightened, presenting clouds in shades of rose and lavender and the sun eventually cresting from beyond the adjacent mountains.

#lea’s writing #plum #joel miller x reader #joel miller imagine #joel miller hbo x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x ofc #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller drabble #joel miller fanfic #joel miller x y/n #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x fem!reader #joel miller angst #joel miller series #joel miller hurt/comfort #joel miller fanfiction #pedro pascal x reader #joel miller fluff

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dancewithdeath11 · 8 months

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Stop runnin' from it...

Summary: An encounter with Joel Miller...

Warnings: 18+, smut, pussy eating, fingering, rough sex???, petnames (babygirl mostly), creampie, I was watching...savory content...and all I could think about was Joel, no use of Y/N, help, unedited cuz I’m lazy 💅

Word Count: 2.6K

_________________

“Shit-”

How did you end up here? You don’t remember, nor do you care. Because damn…he’s good.

Your fingers flew to his unruly salt and pepper curls from where they tickled your thighs as he devoured you whole.

Soft moans and whimpers filling the air alongside the lewd slurping noises he made against your cunt. A harsh suck to your clit has you moaning loudly, practically sitting upright at the sudden unexpected pleasure. He pulled back with a wet pop as you whined at the loss, having been so close to the edge. “No…Joel- please!” You pleaded weakly between staggered pants.

“Gotta keep it down, babygirl. Or Imma stop.” He threatened in that low Texas drawl that only got you wetter.

“‘M sorry…’m sorry, please…please-” you cut yourself off with a surpressed squeal as he dove right back between your thighs. You fell back against the table with a dull thud, more items being knocked over and shuffled around. His big hands— wide palms and long fingers rough from wear, grabbed at your thighs and hoisted them over his broad shoulders as he pressed closer. Your legs being forced apart just by his broadness. Your hips bucking off the table at an unexpected suck on your clit. A hand left your thigh, settling over top of your hips and gripping the opposite side harshly. Effectively securing you in place.

Heat pooled in your lower abdomen as he worked you higher and higher with nothing but his mouth. Your legs trembled, hands searching for something to ground yourself. Settling with one hand in his hair again, and the other white-knucking the edge of the table. The quiet moans tumbling past your lips raised in pitch and came more frequently now. Chanting his name like a prayer as he brought you to the edge. “Shit- shit! Joel, I’m-” He just growled against you and doubled his efforts, hurling you right over into the oblivion of bliss. You bite down on your bottom lip to keep yourself from being too loud.

You pant as you come down. He’d calmed down as well as he lazily makes out with your pussy for a few minutes. Humming and sighing as he soothed over your cunt with his tongue. Laving over it tenderly. But he just doesn’t stop. Eventually it becomes too much as he continues to abuse your pussy with his mouth. The scratch of his facial hair and his hot wet tongue making you overstimulated.

You try pushing his head away, panting heavily when he doesn’t let up. Wanting it to stop but fuck…the pain almost feels good.

A loud whimper breaks past your lips as he shoves two fingers in unexpectedly, knuckles deep into your weeping hole. “Thattt’s it, good girl. Sound so pretty for me, babygirl…” He mutters softly to you, sucking a hickey onto your thigh as he curls his thick fingers inside you. As if coaxing out the stuttered moan that crawls out of your throat.

Holy shit-

“Joel-” you whine softly, trying to pull him up from where he was sucking your clit while thrusting his fingers in and out of you.

With a short pause, he pulls his fingers out and grabs your thighs. You can feel how wet his fingers were as your cum and his spit smeared on the skin there. He leaned over to meet you face to face. Only glancing away briefly to put his fingers back in caused you to whimper again.

“What is it? C’mon…” He muttered softly as you tried to stutter out what you wanted. Only for him to work his fingers faster, harder. Hitting that little spongy spot that makes you stop thinking. Your head lulled to the side as your spine tingled with pure pleasure, jaw going slack. He licks up your neck before settling his lips against the shell of your ear. Hot breaths fanning across the side of your face making you shiver. “C’mon pretty, good girls use their words…” you moan as he licks the shell of your ear before nibbling gently. But you could only babble nonsense as he merely rams his fingers inside of you, your mind short circuiting. He chuckles darkly. Clearly enjoying that he’s made you dumb with only his mouth and fingers. His wide palm settled just below your belly button. His thumb reached down to work your wet clit.

Without warning you came again, tensing up before going limp against the wood. “Goddamn…So fuckin’ pretty. All for me, yeah?” Joel murmurs as he pressed a long kiss to your jaw, then your cheek, and finally your lips. Effectively stealing your breath away. “Think you can handle more, babygirl?” He hums against your lips.

“Please…” You whimper softly. Grabbing at his strong shoulders as he smiled, his hands starting to work on his pants.

What are you doing? This all started with a fucking argument with this man. You’d let Ellie borrow… you can’t remember… when she wanted to go out and find Dina because she claimed Dina went out beyond the border and that she was really upset. So, you trusted the teen to protect herself and come back before sundown. She did. But that doesn’t mean that she told Joel before she went out. So he came to your shop, pissed off and ready to tell you off. One thing led to another and he had your dress bunched around your waist eating you out on a random table in your back room.

You kissed him passionately, chasing his lips when he tried to pull away. Sitting up as you followed him, your hands on his neck. Somehow you stood up. Pressing your front to his as he hunched down and kissed you back with just as much passion. “Baby-” He whispered into the kiss, trying to get you back to the table. You just whimpered and pushed his pants and boxers down a little more. Freeing his hard and leaking cock. The tip flushed and angry as it slapped against his stomach from how fast you pushed his pants down.

He’s big… all over. His dick is relatively long, but fuck it’s thick too. You don’t know if you’d be able to wrap your hand around it all the way…would you be able to connect your thumb to your fingers? His hands found your hips and he manhandled you around to face the table. “Hands on the table, darlin’.”

You did as told and he ran his hands along the flesh of your ass, gripping it as you pushed back a little into his hold. He groaned in appreciation, giving a firm but playful slap to one cheek making you gasp. Humming when he rubbed over it affectionately. His hands smoothed up to your lower back, pressing down to get you to arch slightly. Then a hand disappeared for a few moments before you felt his blunt tip pressing against your entrance. “Sorry, babygirl.” He muttered.

“Wh-” He thrusts all the way in in one go. You cry out, falling forward against the table from the force of it. His hands flew to your hips to pull you back against him, making you mewl weakly from how overwhelming it was to be filled so suddenly, “Joel-” You cried weakly as he pressed his chest to your back.

“Shhhh…I know, I know, fuck…” He groaned as you clenched involuntarily to try and fend off the ache from the stretch. “‘M sorry, babygirl. But it’s just easier like this.” He grunts out as he presses small kisses to your back and shoulders. You reach back and grab at his thick forearm to try and ground yourself. The man pants and groans in your ear as your body struggles to adjust to the sheer size of him.

You nod eventually, “Move…please?” You murmured weakly. He grunts before pulling away and standing up straight. Grasping at your hips and helping you get back into position. Testing the waters he slowly pulls back before rocking slowly back in. Then he repeats this a few more times, only pulling out a little before stuffing himself back in. Eventually your moans upped in pitch and he took it as a hint that you were really enjoying yourself now. And you were… Steadily he picks up the pace. His hips pulled back further only to slam against your ass. “God…‘S good!” You moaned out absentmindedly.

He grunted in response and settled his hands to rest on your lower back again, pressing down to get you to arch further. You gasped loudly as he went impossibly deeper.

His tip bruised your cervix making you instinctively run from it with a whine. “Where d’you think you’re goin?” He chuckled as he pulled you back, his hands on your hips again. You whimpered as he kept the pace, but you kept flinching away from it. Your hips eventually running into the table making you hiss in pain. “Push back…” He pulled you back again, delivering a harsh thrust that had you hitting the table again. Your knees are almost buckling with the mix of pain and pleasure alone.

“Ah- Fuck!” You slammed your hand against the table.

Joel just chuckled behind you, a sadistic laugh that told you he was enjoying this. “I said push back.” With a whine you propped yourself up again and pushed back against him. Trying to keep yourself up as he thrusted in and out of you. The next time your body betrayed you he was prepared, gripping your hips with a bruising force. Not letting up for you this time. Keening as your legs started to shake from the pleasure. “Stop runnin’ from it…” You could practically hear the smug smirk you knew he had on his lips right now. He continued to ram into you making noises fall from your mouth non-stop.

Embarrassingly aware of how every time he bottomed out you made a pathetic little uh sound.

Suddenly his hand snakes around and he plays with your clit. Having to lean over just to reach made him hit a whole new spot that made you gasp out. His chest to your back, his softer groans now amplified. He pressed soft kisses to your neck as he thrusted harder than before.

When you mewl louder than intended he pulled back and eased up a bit. The change making him pull his hand away. “Please-! Please do that again!” You sobbed back to him breathily trying to get him back down. Reaching back for his arm again.

“I-I got you Darlin’...” He grunts as he moves into the position again and you gasp in shock. His rough fingers finding your oversensitive and abused clit. Using no precision whatsoever, but rubbing harshly across the slick bundle of nerves. But that coupled with the angle that his cock is bullying its way into your cunt made you feel like you were on cloud nine. “So desperate babygirl, huh? You’ve been such a good girl for me though…” Joel hummed into your ear. Your stomach did a flip at the praise, the coil pulling tighter as you moan in appreciation. He grunts, “Like being my good girl, baby? Is that it?”

You nod dumbly, managing out a warning that you were close again and you feel him smirk against your skin. He pulls back and you whine at the loss of him being right there. The loss of the incredible angle as you were teetering on another edge.

Your thoughts are cut short as he thrusts so hard it has you balance thrown off again. He grabs your body and pulls you flush to him. Thrusting up into you with the same force as before. “Shit-! Shit! Joel!” You cried out, clawing at his forearm that was holding you up. He grunts, almost sounding angry, before his hand suddenly clamps around your mouth. Your loud moans —near screams— getting muffled into his palm.

“I’m almost there babygirl…Are you? Hmm?” He pants out, a low growl leaving him as you’re starting to tense up with the approach of your orgasm. “Yeah…Yeah you are. Can feel ya squeezin’ me. Don’t gotta wait f’ me, you’ve been a good girl…” Another grunt leaves him as you grasp his wrist tightly. His words were the last thing you needed before you were keening. Tensing up so tightly before the coil snapped and you went . Your body shivering and pussy pulsing with aftershocks from the intense pleasure you were still experiencing as Joel chased his high.

One, two, three thrusts…

Then he stills, a long deep moan leaving him as he gave a few more weak thrusts as he spilled inside you before he relaxed, slumping against you. His hand dropped down to rest on your shoulder letting you open your mouth, panting heavily.

His weight had you stumbling forward with him following you. Your hips pinned to the table as Joel practically slammed his hand on the edge for support. Both of you panting heavily, his lips finding your shoulder as he kissed you there appreciatively. He found his feet again and stood up straighter before easing his cock out making you whimper due to your sensitivity.

“Shhh…Did so good for me, babygirl.” He whispered as he placed his hands on your waist before sliding them down to your hips. Massaging the flesh there where you could already feel bruises forming from his grip and being slammed into the table a few times. “You okay?”

You nod softly, “Yeah…Yeah. That was- fuck, I don’t even know.” You chuckled weakly as you lazily shuffled to turn around. Facing him with a dopey smile on your face.

The stoic, grumpy man looked more relaxed than he did before. Almost younger as he just gazed down at you with a similar smile on his face. “I’ll take that as a good sign?” He let out a small chuckle. You nod and reach up, brushing back some of the sweat slicked hair that was stuck to his forehead. Resting your hand on his neck as your thumb brushed his scruffy jawline.

“Give me a kiss…” you whispered, causing him to smirk. He licked his lips as he just gazed down at you. Bringing your other hand up you gently tugged him, but didn’t force him down. “C’mere and kiss me…” He shook his head before pressing a kiss to your lips. It was soft and slow. Not rushed and angry like it was when you started. This was tender, you liked it more than his fast ones. It made your stomach fill with butterflies and it made you feel dizzy.

Eventually he pulled back, but then pressed another quick peck to your lips. It made you giggle before he looked around. You bit down on your bottom lip as you adjusted your dress back into place. Squeezing your thighs together as you felt his spend dripping out onto the tops of your thighs. “Shoot- Sorry baby, I gotta run, I had patrol at 6. Tommy’s gonna kill me.” He chuckled as he pulled his flannel back on. Looking over you see that it was 6:18. Joel was known for being the best there was on patrol, so it wasn’t an excuse to run. But it made you feel a bit down. Dreading that this would be a one off thing as you plaster on a fake smile.

“It’s okay…You should get going.” You shook your head. But just as he was about to leave he paused. “Joel?” He spun around and stalked back over to you.

The older man grasped at your lower back and pulled you into him. “Come over for dinner tomorrow night. Seven o’clock,” He pressed a long kiss to your lips before pulling back and looking you over, “Wear this dress again, I like it.” A cocky smirk came across his lips before he turned around and disappeared again. Leaving you a bit shocked as you stared at the doorway he just left through. You huff out a laugh as you lean back against the table.

“Fuck me…”

#joel miller #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller fic

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miraclepooh · 8 months

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🎨 Lavely Miller

Woman with orange coat 2023

Acrylic on paper on canvas

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wordywarriorwrites · 11 months

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Calendar Girl: June, Part 2

Series Masterlist: Calendar Girl Joel Miller Masterlist Author: @wordywarriorwrites Summary: The story of how Joel Miller falls in love again, told over a series of months. Series Warnings: NSFW. Smut. Language. Violence. Discussions of rape and consent. Alcohol consumption. Age-gap.

June: Part 2

For the first time in nearly a month, Joel had slept through the night.

He’d celebrated the return of his energy that morning by making love to you twice. Now, it was the middle of the afternoon, and instead of feeding him or letting him shower or allowing him to take what he believed to be a well-deserved nap, you kept him abed, and asked him to explain the scars that littered his body from damn near head-to-toe.

“What’s this one from?” you wondered.

“Knife, I think?”

“And this one?”

Joel glanced at the puckered skin on his thigh and yawned, “A bat wrapped in barbed wire.”

You let out a low whistle, “And I thought my knicks and burns were bad.”

He hummed, rolled onto his side, and trailed his fingertip along what appeared to be an incision just above your pubic bone. When he observed that you had an intense looking scar of your own, you placed your hand over his and smiled ruefully.

“Lemme guess,” Joel mused aloud. “Battle with a samurai?”

“Adenomyosis diagnosis at seventeen,” you explained quietly. “After they harvested my eggs, I had a hysterectomy.”

“Shit,” Joel exhaled.

“It was better than being in excruciating pain and requiring monthly blood transfusions,” you replied with a slight shrug. “Besides, I figured I could always get a surrogate. But then, the world went to hell in a handbasket, and that was that.”

He swallowed hard and shook his head, “M’sorry, sweetheart.”

You ran your hand down his cheek and trailed your thumb along his chin, “I made my peace with it a long time ago.”

Your solemnity reminded him age was more than simply chronological. You’d grown, lived, and evolved in the before as well as the after. At 17, you probably hadn’t fully taken motherhood into consideration until you were robbed of the choice. As for him, fatherhood had been an unexpected joy cut far too short, and he couldn’t imagine the man he’d be if Sarah hadn’t been born. Yes, he still grieved for her loss, but Joel had you and Ellie now, and for the first time in over twenty years, he felt satisfied.

But in twenty years, could you – would you – say the same?

You rolled onto your side to face him and ran a fingertip over his furrowed brow, “You know, you should be relieved.”

He grasped your hand and pressed a kiss to the back of it, “Yeah? And why’s that?”

“Because you can come inside me instead of pulling out and praying.”

Joel paused. Inhaled sharply. Allowed your remark to sink in. When he looked up at you, your lips twitched, then, slowly spread into a cheeky grin that made his stomach flip. The wicked gleam in your eye suggested your gallows humor had the desired effect, and when he swatted you on the ass for it, you yelped and laughed uproariously.

“Think you’re real fuckin’ funny, don’t ya’?” he murmured as he put you on your back and kissed his way across your collarbone and down your sternum.

You smirked and raked your nails over his scalp, “I’m fuckin’ hilarious.”

Joel sank his teeth into your nipple, and when you hissed, he made a mock-contrite sound. You pinched his earlobe in retaliation, and that prompted him to roll his eyes up to meet your gaze, drag his tongue across your chest, and envelope your other nipple with his lips. Joel laved, nibbled, and sucked his way along your body until your spine bowed, and after he administered a tender kiss to the scar on your abdomen, he hitched your legs over his shoulders, and skimmed his hands and nose up your inner thigh.

“This mean we’re done talkin’?” you gasped.

“That’s up to you, sweetheart,” he mumbled against your sex. “You’re the one in charge.”

“Are you speaking to me or my pu – fuck, Joel!”

Face pressed tight against you, Joel alternated between suckling your clit and dipping his tongue inside you. When he languidly added his fingers to the mix, you writhed, and treated him to a delicious view of your belly, breasts, and throat when you arched beneath him. Hands fisted in the sheets and then, in his hair; he knew you were close when your thighs trembled against his ears, and you clenched vice-like around his index and middle fingers.

“That’s it, sweetheart,” Joel crooned. “Come on my mouth.”

You did as commanded – soaked his tongue and beard, and he helped you though it until you’d gone boneless. The kisses he dropped on the path back up were smeared with your release, and after Joel rolled you onto your stomach, he tucked a pillow beneath your hips, and guided your leg up and to the side.

“M’gonna fuck you,” he murmured as he dug his teeth into your shoulder. “Just like this.”

You whimpered and braced your hand on the wall, “Do it. Do whatever you want, Joel.”

Of course, you encouraged him – offered yourself up like some sort of sensuous sacrifice. He thrust into you, all the way to the hilt, and you simply took it – pulled him in and allowed him to keep you pinned down and wide open beneath him. Joel grunted and growled with the effort, more than happy to put his back into it to ensure you were satisfied.

“S’tight. It’s like you don’t want me inside’a you,” Joel rasped against your shoulder.

You pushed back against him, “But I do. You know I do.”

Eyes rolled back, cheek smashed into the pillow, and swollen lips parted – you were a vision, and when he kissed you, it was so damn sloppy – comprised of little more than bared teeth, spit, and tongue, but it was good. Joel took you with deliberate, deep strokes, and it was perfect. You were perfect – so hot and wet around him, your plump ass a flawless cushion for his groin, and when he sought out your clit and rubbed it – firm and slow, just how he knew you liked it – you became utterly magnificent.

“More,” you begged sweetly, breathlessly. “Harder.”

He didn’t hesitate to wrangle your limbs into a position that allowed him to give you exactly what you asked for. One. Two. Three thrusts. You clamped down and he struggled to hold back and see you through it properly, and when you moaned in that rich, satisfied way that made his head buzz and his ego inflate?

He gritted his teeth. Hauled you up off your hands and knees. Pressed his back to your chest and cupped your breasts in his calloused hands. Joel held you tightly in place and used his cock like a piston until he finally, finally felt the heat of his impending release rush through him.

“You feel so fuckin’ good, sweetheart,” he drawled against your temple. “Fuck, you’re gonna make me come.”

You tipped your head back and dug your nails into his flank, “Good. Come inside me, Joel. I want you to.”

Your permission was all he’d needed. Joel’s body flooded with euphoric relief as he spilled into you and filled you to the brim. He held himself deep inside. Stayed until he softened and slipped out, and as you eased back down onto your stomach, his eyes were drawn to your inner thighs, coated in a mixture of his release and yours.

You made that sound again – the one that danced up his spine and made him shiver – and he smirked as he trailed his fingers though the mess he’d made. It was barbaric and hedonistic of him to think that his come was finally where it belonged – that he’d somehow claimed you as his with his cock and spend – and Joel’s chest swelled with something brutally possessive as he watched you slowly turn over and smile up at him.

He stretched out next to you. Pulled you close until you were tucked up beside him. As he held you in his arms, he realized you’d asked about his scars to better understand all he’d seen and been through. While his scars were visible, visceral reminders, yours were mostly secreted away, and the only reason Joel knew about them was because you’d shared that hidden part of yourself with him.

You trusted him.

“Can I make you something to eat?” you asked, lips pressed to his pec.

He nodded. Followed you with his eyes as you slipped out of bed and pushed your arms through the sleeves of his flannel. Breathed you in when you leaned over, kissed him, and told him you’d be right back.

Before you could leave, he sat up, and cupped the back of your neck in his hand.

“Food. Shower. Nap,” Joel listed between kisses. “Then, we’ll talk all you want.”

You quirked a brow, “Promise?”

“Yeah, sweetheart. I promise.”

Chapter 09: July

#joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller smut #pedro pascal character fic #joel miller fan fic #joel miller x F!reader #wordywarriorwrites #calendar girl #pedro pascal character fanfiction

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