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28 Floors, Part 3 | Joel Miller x f!reader

Pairing: Joel Miller x fem!reader Rating: 18+, minors DNI, don't make it awkward pls. Word count: 4.5K Series summary: You're a good girl. A senator's daughter who is always there to show your support to your father. What he doesn't know is that his best friend, Joel Miller, is practically the only real reason you show up to events to support him. Series warnings etc: [NO OUTBREAK/AU] We'll call him dad's best friend Joel from his time in the Army, fairly soft!joel, age difference (28/47), alcohol, sexual tension, slow burn...and eventually smut, like shitttt that's smut. Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 - You're already here Part ?? - Maybe some drabbles for these two in the future Read on AO3 Chapter summary: You and Joel share a passionate night together, only to wake up and do it all again. It was all perfect, oh yeah, until your dad figures out you were with Joel all night. Don't worry, though - this story has a happy ending. Chapter warnings: References to food and alcohol, oral (both male and female receiving), fingering, unprotected p in v (wrap it up, folks), creampie, praise kink, dirty talk, Soft! Joel, rough!Joel, rough sex...I mean, it's a lot of smut. A/N: Wowowowowow. When I set out to write my first fic, I really didn't think it would get any attention at all. To all of you who have read, reblogged, commented, and encouraged me along the way, thank you - ilysm. While this may be the end of the series for these two, I might still play around with a few drabbles. Thank you for letting me share my thoughts with you! It's been such a fun journey. Onward and upward (get it...elevators) to the next story.

The dimly lit hallway stretches endlessly in front of you.

A nice seductive touch to the night, you think.

With his large hand holding onto yours, Joel walks like a man on a mission.

His only goal is to get you tucked away into his room so he can finally have you, all of you.

The patterned paisley floor swirls under your feet as you get closer and closer to his room. Maybe it was the alcohol, but you’re pretty sure it was the electric charge between you two causing your senses to blend and play tricks on you.

You both walk fast, eager.

Just like that, you’re at the door.

Your breath comes out in ragged pants, and the heat between you two practically shimmers in the air.

You think you hear a muffled ping in your purse, but you can’t be sure. You’re too focused on Joel.

Joel, Joel, Joel, your mind thinks on repeat like a broken record, reminding you that you want one thing and one thing only.

He places one hand on the doorknob and dips the other into his suit jacket pocket to reveal a white keycard.

The beep the lock emits acts as a go-signal, like the sound of a shotgun at a race, and he’s pulling you through the threshold of the now open door to reveal a warmly lit and inviting space.

As the door falls shut behind you, he pins you against it, your lips meeting in a clash of urgency.

Your hands roam freely over his body, and you need more.

You push off of the door and urge him back into the room, only slightly stumbling over your heels as you do.

These things have got to go.

Lips still locked on his, you briefly open your eyes to step out of your heels when you see it – a large ottoman, up against the back wall of the room.

Suddenly, you’re the one in control.

With a firm push, you send him sprawling back onto the plush cushions. He hits them with a faint oof. The breadth of him spans wide, as he drapes his arms along the back of the ottoman, waiting with baited breath for what you’ll do next.

His eyes watch your silhouette, a tantalizing vision against the backdrop of the room, as your fingers dance with bold assurance at the hem of your dress.

A smirk curls your lips, and it blows Joel’s pupils open even wider.

You peel off your dress, and reveal yourself to him – braless, with only a thin scrape of fabric covering your lower half.

You toss the dress into the air, a forgotten memory.

You see lust flicker across his face as he watches the fabric pool on the floor.

At that moment, it’s not just a dress you’ve discarded; it’s all inhibitions, all rules, and all pretenses.

You walk closer to him, and lower yourself to your knees.

You place your seemingly tiny palms on his very large thighs and glide them up to meet his belt. You watch his face as you make quick work of unbuckling it.

Pants next, you pull the zipper down with a potent zzzrrrrp and slip them off, flinging them to meet your dress on the floor.

You pause to palm the length of him under the single piece of fabric left on him, before pulling his boxers down far enough for his cock to finally spring free.

The length of him slaps against his soft tummy, leaving a little smear of pre-cum in its wake.

You take his large member in your hand and begin to stroke it slow and rhythmically, admiring it’s size. Joel's head falls back as if to gaze at the ceiling – you’ve barely touched him and already he’s melting like putty.

You wet your lips, duck down to the base of his shaft, and plant a small kiss at the base of his cock.

“Don’t play w’me,” he torts.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” you say with a wink.

You hum as you flatten your tongue and lick a long, wet stripe up the underside of his dick and stop at the top with your mouth open wide.

As you hold the tip of him in your mouth, your tongue darts out to taste the salty heady flavor of his pre-cum. You let the saliva pool and dribble out of your mouth for a moment, and then you finally take him.

Joel lets out a small grunt as you unhinge your jaw further to open your throat and take more of him. You move up and down, and one of Joel’s hands meets the back of your head, and he grabs a fistful of your hair.

With his grip on you, he begins to guide your mouth as he fiercely thrusts up.

Your head bobs up and down, trying to keep up with the pace of him, and tears begin to prickle in your eyes. You can feel your lips swelling. With the tip of his cock reaching the back of your throat, you let out a small gag and he pauses at the hilt.

“Fuck, baby,” Joel pants, “woulda put this mouth to good use long ago had I known you could do this.”

His praise melts you like cotton candy on a warm tongue.

He lets you continue to mouth fuck him just like that, lost in his own pleasure, when you reach up to cradle his balls.

Ooo, he likes that.

“Shit, gonna have to stop sweetheart or I’m gonna cum,” Joel huffs.

You stop.

You need him – down to the last drop – inside of you tonight.

You’d have to wait to taste him for another time.

Will there be a next time?

You let the silent wish float away as you rise from the floor, knees cherry red, not much unlike the cherries from your whiskey earlier at the bar. He stands and pulls you up the rest of the way by the undersides of your elbows.

He yanks your body to his, his wet and pulsing cock between you when suddenly both of his hands are on the underside of your ass and he yanks you up off the floor to straddle his ribs.

You let out an excited little yelp, not expecting to leave the floor, and wrap both arms around his shoulders.

Joel walks you across the room to the bed, planting kisses on your chest and breasts that rest so perfectly in his face as he does.

He stops when the front of his legs meet the edge of the bed, and he releases you, your back hitting the mattress with a small thud.

Joel crawls on top of you and pauses to momentarily hover over you.

This is it.

He’s finally going to fuck you.

Wrong.

He looks down between your bodies and begins to follow the path, using his tongue as a trail of bread crumbs back to your mouth all the way down your body, until he finds himself at the foot of the bed on his knees.

They hurt like hell, but he didn’t give a shit.

He grabs both of your ankles and pulls you closer to him.

“Told you I was gonna take my time with ya,” he whispers.

He plants soft kisses up your leg, your inner thigh, and finally pauses once he reaches your mound.

His thumbs come up to meet your hip bones. They grip the skimpy piece of fabric, and he slides them down off your legs.

He takes a small whiff before he throws them in the growing clothes pile.

You blush, partially out of embarrassment, but by the look on his face it does nothing but stoke the fire within him.

His tender tongue comes out to lap up your sweetness.

He makes small licks towards your slick entrance, and he stays on the outskirts of your folds, just barely pushing past them to where you want him to be.

Always such a fucking tease.

You buck your hips up to his face, and you’ve made your point.

He moves back up toward your clit, and begins to drag his tongue over you, working at you slowly, devouring every drop of you, igniting every one of your nerves down there as he does.

You grab a fistful of his hair, alternating between closing your eyes in sheer delight and looking down at the sight of him between your legs.

His grip on your thighs doesn’t relent. Neither does yours.

You cry out his name, but it comes out weak and wet.

Joel’s lips suck and lap at your clit, as he slowly begins to press one of his fingers inside.

“mmm, feels so good, more, please,” you say.

You know he loves his manners.

One becomes two.

“You’re so tight, baby,” he admires, “Gotta stretch you out, get you ready f’me.”

Two becomes three.

Your back naturally comes off the bed in a graceful arch as you feel him move inside you, his fingers gently curled as he scissored in and out, his mouth still on your sensitive nub.

He has you right where he wants you, on the verge of total release. You’re shaking, a woman drowning in the pleasure coursing through your veins.

Holy shit. You’ve never orgasmed so much from one man in your life, and certainly not like this.

A moan slips past your lips, and your mind goes foggy as your whole body stiffens. Joel rides out your orgasm with you and doesn’t stop until you totally soften under him, slightly shaking from overstimulation.

Joel lets his grip on your thighs fall, as he rises up, smile on his face, beard glistening from your release.

A devilish grin sweeps across his face. “Taste so sweet,” he compliments, before planting a kiss on your lips.

His head falls to the side of yours in the crook of your neck, his breath heavy.

The woody aroma of his cologne catches you once more, and you just can’t hold out anymore.

“Joel, I need you to fuck me. I need to feel you inside of me, please, I can’t wait anymore,” you beg.

You’re not one to ask for it so outwardly, not really, but Joel certainly has a special way of making you beg for it.

“You’ve got me, sweetheart.”

He takes his heavy cock in hand and notches his weeping tip at your entrance, and begins to push himself inside you.

He pauses a moment to let you adjust, but not for long, his patience wearing thin – Joel has waited far too long to know what you feel like.

He slowly backs the tip out, and you whine, but before you can say anything, he buries himself in you in one strong push.

Your face twists at the adjustment.

“Joel, fuck,” you pant, “so big.”

Joel loves the compliment.

He begins to fuck you in earnest, cashing in on his promise in the elevator to wreck you.

“I know, Darlin’,” he pants – “but you’re taking it so good.”

“Perfect,” he thrusts.

“Fucking,” he thrusts again.

“Cunt,” he slams into you this time.

You swear you see stars.

He slightly pulls back, but not all the way, and flips your right leg over your body to the left, and you’re straddling his lower torso like some sort of sexy pretzel.

He holds onto your right leg for leverage, as he begins to fuck you deep.

The sound your bodies make with each thrust is filthy.

You begin to bury your face into the bicep that rested on the bed, hands reaching for anything in their grasp as he stretches you out.

He brings his thumb to your clit once more, and you flinch – part pleasure, part pain.

You’re so fucked out already, but you can tell he isn’t going to let you off easy.

Still fucking you, his thumb makes slow circles on your swollen clit, bringing you back to full pressure.

“Fuck,” you cry, unable to finish your sentence before another intense orgasm hits you like a truck.

Joel slows, “there’s my good girl, being so good, coming all over me, felt so good,” he praises.

Joel flips you so you’re on your belly, and the he’s yanking you up by the creases of your hips into doggy.

His cock was fiercely hard, pumping in and out of you, just twitching with the need to release.

“Where do you want me, baby?” he asks.

“Inside me. I want you to come inside me. I want to feel all of you. I’m on the pill. Please.”

You and your begging tonight.

You don’t have to do much convincing.

A few quick more thrusts, and Joel is coming hard and fast, your pussy milking him of everything he’s got.

He collapses onto you, breath and body tense, before you both collapse onto the bed.

A long moment of comfortable silence passes, and he pulls out of you and rolls to his side.

He lifts his head to scan your face.

You’re a wreck.

He’s a wreck.

But you both look at each other like you’ve just seen the sunset for the first time.

Your heavy limbs and sleepy eyes begin to melt into the mattress, your body warm and gooey from the buzz of the night.

Joel collapses once more beside you, and his heavy arm drapes around your waist. He pulls you into his side and kisses your temple.

Without saying anything, you both let your eyelids fall, the events of the night catching up with you.

You both drift peacefully into sleep, only to find each other again in your dreams.

As dawn breaks, the first light of day slithers through the crack in the hotel's heavy curtains, refusing to acknowledge any societal norms of 'do not disturb'.

You flutter your eyelids open to a mess of tangled sheets and scattered clothing, a testament to a night lived passionately and unapologetically, on your own terms.

You stare at the ceiling, reminiscing about last night – you really fucked Joel Miller.

God, his cock.

You’re wet again just thinking about him.

You roll onto your side to face Joel and interlace both of your palms like a pillow under your cheek.

Joel’s still deep in slumber, giving you a quiet moment to soak in and admire how beautiful he truly is – his aquiline nose, his soft lips, his sun-kissed skin, the little freckles on his neck and chest.

The butterflies are back.

Your eyes dance over him, taking in the visuals of the crisp white sheets draped over his chiseled features, revealing the truly physical nature of his job.

Ugh, he’s so hot.

Just the sight of him once again causes the chorus of electric tingles to erupt in your belly, you feel a familiar tug at your navel.

You reach out to place your palm on his chest, and he emits a low grumble and stirs.

His heavy eyelids open and he notices you looking at - okay, eye fucking - him.

“Mornin’ beautiful,” he says with a smile, “See something you like?”

Before you can even clock what he’s doing, he’s got your entire body pulled onto his – chest to chest, face-to-face, both still naked from the night before.

“Yeah…you could say that,” you say as you greet his lips with your own.

That gentle peck morphs into something wild and fervent.

Your lips move in sync, parting and meeting in a rhythm that's as old as time and yet, so uniquely yours and Joel’s.

His massive cock throbs under you.

Looks like you aren’t the only one with a need this morning.

His hands move down to grip your hips, and he begins to grind himself against you.

“mmm, baby – I need you,” he growls into your shoulder. “Need to feel this tight pussy wrapped around me.”

God, you could hear him say that until the end of time and never tire of it.

You happily oblige his request.

You adjust your legs to straddle him and lift yourself up onto your knees as he lines himself up into your entrance. You sink down onto his length, your eyes falling shut as you do.

He’s so big. You pause to give yourself a moment to adjust, and then you find yourself pacing on him, expertly rolling your hips against his.

His hands hold you and he assists your rolls back and forth as you grind your clit against the coarse black hair surrounding his dick, teasing yourself with each move.

Mmm, that feels good.

Your slick makes his member so easy to roll up and down on, your tight walls squeezing and stroking him.

Joel watches you bounce on his cock, your breasts moving fluidly with the motion as one of his palms leaves your hips to grasp it. The added sensation of him playing with your nipple is intense.

You tilt your head back and let out a moan.

“Fuck,” Joel says, “Not gonna last much longer if you keep makin’ sweet sounds like that, sweetheart.”

Joel’s hand sweeps down from your breast, over the softness of your stomach. How is every touch from him so electrifying?

His fingers find your clit in the space between your sticky bodies.

As you ride him, the pressure of his fingers on your clit relentless, you feel the heat rise in your body. Your stomach begins to tense and you can feel your own orgasm not far off.

“Fuckkkkkk, Joel. I’m gonna co..” you trail off, and your vision goes white. You ride the wave of pleasure that extends from your head to your toes.

Hearing – no, feeling – your orgasm sends Joel over the edge.

As your walls pulse around him, his hands find a bruising grip on your ass. He begins to thrust hard and deep all the way to the edge of your cunt.

Your name leaves his mouth in a deep growl, as he finally lets his thick, milky release paint your cervix.

You fall forward, your body limp and sore, as he twitchs under you. Your combined heavy breaths begin to slow.

You pull off of him, sad to no longer have the stretch of him, but satisfied to still have part of him inside you.

As you both lay there in blissful silence, a ping from your phone draws you back to reality.

You lazily roll over and grab your phone from the nightstand.

It’s a text from your dad.

You hastily sit up, and a little rush of seed spills out onto the pristine white sheets beneath you.

“Good morning — just checking in to make sure you’re safe. Tommy mentioned you never called for a ride home last night. Congressmen Allen’s aid also told me she saw you get into an elevator with Joel around midnight?”

Shit.

Joel’s brows furrow as he looks at you, “What is it, Darlin’?”

Words fail you, so you pass the phone to let him read the message for himself.

It’s no use, he can’t read the screen without his reading glasses.

Why is that so hot?

As he reaches for the nightstand to grab them, his phone lights up and emits a beep.

He freezes momentarily, hand pausing right over the device. He takes a deep breath, grabs his glasses, then snags the phone. He unlocks it to find a text, also from your dad. His best friend.

“Were you with my daughter last night?”

Fuck.

FUCK.

Joel whips back to face you, and your wide eyes lock in a death grip.

The air is thick with tension as a silent “what the hell do we do!?” fills the room.

You sit there, facing each other, your faces a mirror of the other’s emotions.

But then, out of nowhere, you break out into laughter, letting a little snort go as you do.

Yeah, a good old-fashioned, unsexy snort.

It hangs in the air for a nanosecond, as does Joel’s confusion about your response.

Then you both explode into laughter.

You clutch your stomach, and tears stream down your face, and further little spurts of cum fall from your folds.

All that tension? Gone.

Because sometimes, life’s too short to take everything so seriously.

Sure, Joel was your dad’s best friend, but he was also a good man.

You know that.

Your dad sure as hell knows that.

And even Joel knows that, despite what he might think sometimes.

It’s not like you were a child, for fucks sake.

You are a grown woman, with a life, a job, and responsibilities.

You’re certainly old enough to know that good men are hard to come by in this city.

Without saying a word, Joel seemed to understand that you didn’t really care if your dad knew.

He didn’t care, either. Not really.

A final little breathless chuckle leaves your lungs, and the joint laughter dissipates and is replaced with calm.

Joel looks at you, the hungry and concerned eyes have gone, only to be replaced by something warmer.

With the morning sun shining through, you catch a different shade of amber you hadn’t noticed before.

He pushes a strand of hair out of your face and tucks it gently behind your ear, leaving his large palm on your cheek. His thumb meets your chin, and he pulls you in for a kiss.

It was tender. Soft.

No words were said, but it was in that moment that Joel knew that if he really were a smart man, he’d never let you go.

You’ll come clean to your dad.

You know him – it’ll be okay.

But first, you both need a shower.

For the first time, you don’t find yourself grumbling in the mirror as you get ready for another event.

Sure, there would still be the mind-numbing conversation, that you could count on.

But there would also be food, booze…and Joel.

You dawn a pretty pink dress, conveniently forget your underwear, and slip into your heels.

As you’re applying the finishing touches to your makeup, you look in the mirror and a large figure is perched up against your doorframe.

God, he looks good in a suit.

“You know, I meant what I said on the elevator – your body is gonna be the death of me. Look at you," the words come out sweet like honey.

You walk towards him, taking his large hand in yours. You pause there to feel the thickness of his fingers and rub the pads of your fingers over the rough calluses.

You drag his hand slowly up the top of your thigh, letting the dress gently bunch underneath his touch to reveal your smooth skin. When you reach the top, you hold him there and let him discover that you’re pleasantly wearing nothing underneath.

You feel him tense and the tips of his fingers barely graze where you so desperately want him to be.

But that would have to wait.

“Oh Joel,” you coo seductively, “I’m just getting started with you.” You say with a wink.

This time your words linger in his ears. A threat. A promise. A need.

Joel moans, and palms his growing length to adjust.

You both make a point to leave the apartment quickly, knowing if you stayed too long you’d both lose your resolve to attend the event.

You arrive, and interlace your palm over Joel’s bicep as he guides you through the threshold of the space.

You catch a few wandering, judgemental glances. You catch wind of hushed whispers as you begin to mingle.

Isn’t that the senator's daughter? Isn’t that his best friend?

You don’t care. This feels natural.

Just you and Joel.

You both work the crowd as you normally do, mingling through a series of separate and boring conversations.

Halfway through the night, your eyes lock across the room and Joel gives you that nod.

You know it’s not for just a drink this time.

Joel slips into the hallway.

You graciously excuse yourself from the dull conversation and set your champagne glass on an empty passed tray as you glide across the ballroom floor to follow him.

There he stands, palms interlaced behind his back.

Really pushing the fabric of that suit jacket to the limit, isn’t he? You think to yourself, already noticing a familiar stickiness between your thighs.

Fuck.

Joel's eyes are fixed on the elevator indicator on the wall in front of him as he patiently waits for you.

His broad frame turns as he hears your familiar steps come closer, and his big brown eyes catch yours in a silent hello.

Yeah. If looks could kill.

You swallow and gently bite your bottom lip.

The taste of the future, laced with sweet, raw, passionate love, is deliciously intoxicating.

The corners of your lips lift in a smile and a familiar blush returns to your cheeks as you walk closer to him, knowing what’s to come.

A soft bing echos through the lobby and the metal doors slowly open.

People shuffle off, and the robotic elevator voice reverbs through the air.

“In you go, sweetheart,” Joel says as he ushers you into the lift, his large palm once again finding its favorite resting spot on the small of your back.

You step into the small box and wait for others to join.

As luck would have it, once again, none do.

You glance up at Joel’s face and see a familiar need. That hunger. Pupils blown. Jaw tense.

“My turn,” falls from your lips.

By the time the elevator doors come to a full close, you’re already on your knees, ready to worship at the altar of the your gorgeous man.

This time, Joel Miller doesn’t just have 28 Floors with you.

He has forever.

X X X

END

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