rsquared31

[rsquared31]

This is everything I need 🥺🥹🥰🫠🖤

Look at me doin' a lil moodboard for a Frankie fall 🍂🍁

[rsquared31]

If you're looking for Joel smut perfection... 🫠🥵😭🙌🏼

Soaked 💦

Pairing: Joel Miller x F!reader

Rating: 18+ Explicit

Word Count: 5.3k

Summary: Joel wants to see how much you can give him and how much you can take. So much so that when he pushes just a tad too far, he makes you squirt for the first time.

Warnings: 18+ SMUT, zero plot (opps?), no use of Y/N, not much description of reader but she has hair long enough to pull, age of reader isn’t mentioned but I do love an age gap (I can’t help it), pet names, dirty talk, hair pulling, dom!Joel (but he’s soft too), M!masturbation, F!oral, overstimulation, P in V, doggy 😈, unprotected sex (don’t do this!), reader has multiple orgasms (Joel’s insane in the bedroom you should know this), squirting, creampie.

🩵 Hi lovely people! Here’s another fic for you guys to enjoy 🫶 this one is just pure filth so let me know what you think!

🤍 I want to start adding tag list to my work as I’ve had a few people mention that they’d like to be added to one! If you’re interested please let me know and I’ll be happy to add you! @harriedandharassed @millercontracting @mumma-moonchild @chyannealaniz 🤍

Joel knows precisely how to have you crumbling under his touch.

Right now, all of your senses are heightened, and your skin is easily sensitive to touch as your body lays against the softness of your mattress. Your back falls in deeper to the cotton, and your hips are locked tightly in place, being firmly fixed down by two muscular arms. Your foreheads cascaded in a thin sheen of sweat, your bare chest lifting vigorously as your lungs struggle for air, short but heavy gasps filling your parted lips. Your spines curved upwards, raising off the covers and shaky hands gripping hard to soft streaks of hair. You can’t stop the profound feeling of pleasure sliding from your needy mouth, every moan and whimper tickling the back of your throat as Joel rests his head in between your thighs.

You knew this would be happening tonight, something Joel had wanted to delve deeper into for a while. He had warned you beforehand, but fuck, you’ve never been this drunk off Joel’s touch before. His hold on your sides cascades down and all around your body, every limb and muscle reacting to his minor touches, his mouth already delivering an intense orgasm from your sensitive cunt.

You thought he’d let you rest, give you some time to recover and regain some energy until he brings his mouth down once again to explore your throbbing heat. But he doesn’t. Joel has no intention to stop his attack on your core, his words continuing to echo in the back of your mind, reminding you that he was, in fact, nowhere near done with you.

His tall frame looks down at you, almost towering over as his calloused thumb strokes the plushness of your lips, “this is what’s gonna happen, baby. M’gonna make you come all over my mouth…” You can see how his pupils dilate, his stare taking in your reaction, and how you respond to his words, “n’ I ain’t stopping until I have you screaming by the end of the night.”

You can’t move. His command shivers its way deep into your heat, your arousal already seeping onto your panties as his profound, southern words claim the fabric. All you can courage is a simple nod, too afraid that your voice will deceive you. Joel’s eyes move across your face and linger lower at every inch of your skin as you stand at the edge of the bed, quivering hands planted on your bare thighs. You feel nervous, that unknown certainty of what’s to come filling your throat, but yet you can’t help the excitement corrupt its way down in your lower stomach.

“You know what to say if it gets too much. Don’t ya, darlin’.”

You nod again.

Joel moistens the skin on his lips, a low tut pulling from his teeth, the harsh sound lingering in the thick air. “Words, sweetheart. Don’t be shy with me, baby, need you nice and vocal f’me, telling me how y’feeling. Think you can do that?”

Fuck the effect this man has on you. He needs to hear your voice, a simple nod of your head not being a good enough answer, “Y-yes, Joel.”

A smirk forms its way across his strong features, “now that’s a good girl.”

Joel gently removes your top, pulling it up and over your shoulders, leaving your top half naked. You can hear him growl at the newly shown skin, your nipples perking up from the sudden cold breeze on your hot chest. His fingers glide across the curves of your breasts and down the sides of your rib cage, “no bra, baby? Fuck I can’t wait to get my hands on you.” A shaky exhale leaves your lips as he removes the last item of clothing, slowly pulling your panties down your legs. He starts kissing and sucking every part of new skin and gripping as much flesh he can gather in his hands, moving your body with him so he can lie you at the top of his bed. Joel groans at the image in front of him, your naked body forever imprinting itself on his brain, your pureness remaining at the back of his eyelids even in your absence.

His gaze doesn’t leave yours. Both his feet stay planted firmly on the cold wooded floor as his hands begin to remove the remains of his clothes. The air in the room is covered in thick desire. The sound of shuffling and the heavy metal of a belt dropping onto the floor makes your heart thump as more of Joel’s skin becomes visible to your eyes. You lie there and watch him undress, observe him while he reveals all of himself to you.

You take all of him in; his sharp facial features, his tanned skin, wide shoulders covered in sun freckles, the broadness of his arms, and the plushness of his tummy have you melting for him. Your eyes wander lower and lock onto his thickness. His cocks now fully hard, resting high between his muscular thighs. His heads pulsing and becoming a deep shade of red, the tip of him now shiny as his pre-come starts to travel down his long shaft right down to the base.

Joel stands still. Watching as you look all over him and take in his whole frame. He brings his hand down and wraps it around his aching cock, hissing through his teeth at the touch. His hand covers himself so effortlessly, so different to how it looks when it’s your own, barely being able to wrap himself fully in your small grasp. The thought of how big he is compared to you sends shivers down your spine, becoming slightly impatient that he’s not touched you yet, where he knows you crave him the most.

“Please, Joel,” you continue to watch him as you usher him over with your hand, every pump of his cock creating more arousal in between your legs, “please touch me.” His thumb rubs the tip of his cock, teasing the sensitive area as the sides of his fingers begin to glisten with his arousal, “can’t help it, baby—y’just so fucking pretty to look at, lying there lookin’ so sweet.”

You thrust your hips in the air, a small chuckle leaving Joel’s lips at your neediness, loving how effective you become to his actions, “Open your legs, darlin’, go on. Lemme see ya, show me that pretty pussy.”

Bottom lip pulled between your teeth, you part your legs over the covers and plant both feet flat onto the mattress, revealing your drenched core to hungry eyes.

You’re a fucking sight to behold, your cunt pulsing in anticipation from just his darkened stare. He crawls his way up the bed, looking like a predator eyeing its prey, his gaze locking on your pussy that’s now only inches away from his face.

He bites the flesh of your inner thighs as he lies his body flat on the mattress, both of his arms caging you close as his hands land on your stomach. “Fuck baby you're so wet—always s’wet aren’t you. So fuckin’ needy.”

He doesn’t wait for permission. He doesn’t have to; your moans and desperate words from before are all he needs to dive in.

It only takes you a few minutes to come on his tongue the first time. Joel’s skilful mouth quickly pushes you to that edge, body convulsing under him as your clit pulses in between his lips, barely lifting his mouth off you as his praises help you through it. “Fuck yes, baby, that’s it—come on my mouth— that’s a good girl.”

It’s all so overwhelming, your cunt dripping from your release and all over Joel’s mouth and chin, his tongue catching every single drop of your sweetness. You can feel your pussy already becoming sensitive and overstimulated, his tongue pressing down hard on your swollen clit. This is where he’d remove his face from between your thighs and fuck you, pulling another orgasm out of you with his cock. But he doesn’t stop. His mouth and tongue continue their motions, fully committed to pushing you through another orgasm.

Joel wants more from you. No, he needs more. Not stopping his assault as he continues to urge you closer to your second orgasm. At this point, you don’t think you can; your pussy is already feeling so sensitive it begins to feel too much. But by the look in Joel’s eyes, he has no intention of stopping.

You don’t realise you’re doing it, hands attempting to push his head away from you, the pressure of Joel’s tongue on your clit sending your mind elsewhere. But Joel’s hold remains firm, being so much stronger than yourself, and his mouth laps tightly onto you, breathing heavily through his nose. Your mouths agape, whines echoing onto the walls, “f-fuck Joel, I don’t think I can— this feels— oh my fuck!”

Joel’s head stays in between your thighs as he continues to flick and suck your clit into his mouth, every so often moving his attention lower to your neglected hole, making sure to swallow every single drop of you so it coats all of his tastebuds. Completely drunk off the taste of you.

Joel needed more, and he was getting it.

“Fuck, this pussy tastes s’good darlin’, need to feel ya come again.” He lifts his head, giving you time to breathe as your arousal coats the bottom half of his face, sticking to your inner thighs. The sight below you is filthy, Joel’s thumb rubbing your clit in small circles to keep the pleasure right there while he pushes you through it with his words.

He can sense your uncertainty, “You can do it, baby. It’s okay. Jus’ try n’ relax. Y’wanna make me happy, don’t you?” You nod for him, always wanting to show him how well you’ll be for him, your desperate whines clinging to the skin on your lips.

“Then show me how this pussy comes f’me.”

You look down at him, body completely submissive, “F-uck Joel, I can’t, just fuck me please—it’s too much.”

A low hum escapes his plush, swollen lips, “I will, baby. Just give me one more, and I’ll give it to you. One more, and you can have my cock.”

Fuck, this man was going to be the death of you.

He brings one hand down from its place on your stomach, two of his digits teasing the entrance of your pussy, “What d’you need, baby. Tell me. Need my fingers filling you up? Will that make her come?”

The thought of his wide, calloused fingers fucking you sends shockwaves down your whole body, moaning into the thick air as he prods them just at the seam of your entrance. A smug smile erupts across his features, “fuck she does, doesn’t she. She’s so greedy—needing to be filled. Okay, darlin’, you can have them— lemme make y’feel good.”

He doesn’t give you time to adjust, abruptly shoving his digits into your pussy as you praise his name, “Joel—f-uck!”

He bites the plush skin of your thigh, “That’s it, baby, there she is. I can already feel you clenching down on my fingers— fuck baby, such a good girl. Doing s’well f’me.”

His tongue drops back down on your clit, flicking and swirling it around his mouth. He moans into your pussy as his eyes drop shut, giving in to the feeling of your cunt pulsing in his mouth as the vibration of his lips adds to the pleasure. His digits curve upwards, hitting that spongy spot inside that has your eyes rolling to the back of your head; the sound of your arousal and Joel’s mouth slurping your juices sends you that much closer to pinnacle bliss.

Your one hand grips hard on the quilt below you, and the other is back into his curls, pulling harshly to counteract the sensitive touch of his tongue on your core. Joel doesn’t seem to mind; the tight pull on his hair sends blood straight down to his leaking cock, his hips rustling against the covers underneath him, coating the fabric with his arousal.

You feel dizzy, that tightness bubbling up in your lower stomach again, ready to boil over. “J-Joel fuck—fuck y’gonna make me come—oh my god.”

He smirks against your pussy, knowing you just needed that extra push from him to get you there, “That’s it, baby, let go—want this pussy to come on my face, lemme feel it.”

The orgasm that pulses through you is forceful, your whole body withering and convulsing under Joel’s grip as he holds you still. You’re chanting his name, Joel, Joel, Joel, like it’s the only word in your vocabulary, your mind holding only him behind it. You push his head closer to your heat, thighs closing in as your body spasms from the waves of pleasure that Joel’s igniting from you. Long and deep “mmm’s” leave Joel’s lips as he continues to fuck you with his tongue and fingers, pushing you through your high, swirling your hips in small circles so you can feel everything he’s giving you.

Once Joel feels your walls relax around his fingers and notices that your features have softened, he removes his mouth and digits from you. “Fuck y’did s’good baby. Christ, you’re incredible,” he mumbles against your lower stomach, kissing his way up your body until his lips make contact with your breasts. He begins to suck and squeeze the soft flesh, twirling each nipple around his tongue and sucking them into his mouth, your hands pulling his face closer to your chest.

Your eyes are glazed over, lungs deprived as they try and pull in desperate heaps of air. Your mind is clouded with lust and the smell of Joel, the husky scent of him filling your senses. “Oh my god Joel—” Your lips pulling in another deep breath, “fuck that was…” He looks into your half-open eyes, moving the little strands of hair stuck to your forehead behind your ears, your blushed face fully coming into view.

“I know, sweetheart, you did so well. My sweet girl.” He places small and quick pecks across your reddened cheeks and lips, his stubble scratching the softness of your skin as satisfied hums coat the side of his face. He connects his lips again with yours, still parted as you try to catch your breath. You can taste yourself on his mouth, your arousal surrounding your tastebuds, “y’taste so fuckin’ good baby, could spend hours in between your legs—love it so much.”

He pulls himself onto his knees, looking down at your spent form, “but d’you know what I love the most?” He raises his eyebrows at you, a wide cocky smile brushing his face as small lines appear across his forehead. His words seem so far away, miles in the distance, but his touch burns deep marks into your hips, clawing his digits into the flesh.

Your mind is cloudy, trying to piece the words together in hopes of giving him an answer. Your throat is tight, your vocal cords dry as you gather the energy to speak, “W-what’s that, Joel?”

The side of his mouth curves up, and without any warning, he’s flipping you onto your hands and knees, moulding you into shape like you’re made just for him. Your eyes widen, your body attempting to react quickly to the unexpected movement as you gather the strength to hold both arms out, planting your palms firmly onto the creased quilt below.

Suddenly, Joel’s warmth coats the skin of your back, his chest and stomach shaping so perfectly in the curve of your spine as his heat envelopes your whole body. His hands stay firm on your hips, pushing your bum up close to his groin, his hard cock nestling in between your cheeks.

His lips are so close to your ear. He nibs at the skin, and you gasp, his mouth sending shocks all over your body. He chuckles against you, loving how easily affected you are by his rough and confident demeanour, “—I love how good this pussy feels wrapped around my cock, how fucking incredible it feels when you come all over me, your pussy sucking me in.”

Your head drops behind you, landing onto his shoulder from his confession, his name pouring effortlessly from your lips, “fuck Joel.” He moves his lips to your neck and inhales your sweet scent, your shampoo and floral musk filling his nostrils. His cock pulses from just the sheer aroma coming off of you, eager to feel you wrapped around him. He grabs hold of his aching member, his pre-come dripping from the tip and coating his hand once again, rubbing his stiffness through your wet folds.

He loves to tease; he loves to push you so far that he’ll have you begging for him, desperate pleas and wants to move past your lips, to then finally thanking him as he fills you to the brim. “Tell me, darlin’. Tell me how badly you want this cock inside you.”

He can feel your entrance pulsing on his tip when he teases your hole, moving his cock down until he catches your clit, swirling his head around your bundle of nerves as he grunts deeply into your back.

You're silent, completely lost for words. You try to speak, but his tip rubbing circles on your clit stops you from doing anything, too encased in your own pleasure. Unsatisfied with your silence, he grips your hair into a makeshift ponytail, pulling it tightly into his hand, pushing your face up and to the side so he can see your features, “Go on, baby. Say it. Fuckin’ say how badly you want it.”

You whine his name pathetically, “J-Joel,” the pull on your hair has your pussy dripping onto his cock, the harsh tug on your scalp making you whimper. You can feel your stomach twist in suspense, like any small action will send you over the edge, and he isn’t even inside you yet. “Please, Joel—need it s’bad, w-want your cock inside me—please.”

The moment the words leave your lips, he pushes his tip past your entrance. He coo’s in your ear, “Good girl,” his cock gliding so effortlessly inside you from how wet you both are. Once he knows you feel comfortable, he gives you more of him, inching his cock further inside, “Good fucking girl.”

Once he’s fully settled inside you, he holds your hips flushed against his groin, keeping you still as he takes in every clench and vibration of your inner walls wrapping so perfectly around him, your pussy trying to accommodate his big size.

You’re so sensitive, your thighs buckling under as you attempt to keep yourself stationary on the mattress. You feel so full; every inch of him knocking all the sense out of you, your brain turning to mush.

“Fuck darlin’,” Joel pulls in his bottom lip, wincing at how much you’re clenching down hard on him, “s’fuckin’ tight. You can never get used to me, can you, baby? Christ you feel s’good.”

He wants to go slow; that’s what he likes to tell himself. He knows you’ve given him so much already, so at least he can do is ease you into it. But fuck, the moment he feels your warm cunt wrapped around him, all he wants to do is fuck into you as hard as he can. Long and hard thrust that’ll have you falling weak under his weight as he gives you all of him.

He straightens his back and pulls his cock out so only half of him is shielded inside of you and pushes back in. His head is thrown back with how soft and homey you feel. It doesn’t take him long to set a fast and heavy pace, burying his cock deep inside your warmth as you wither under him.

“Oh, my goddd— fuck Joel!” His thrusts feel everywhere all at the same time, your pussy engulfing him whole as he continues to set an intense rhythm. Your body feels like jelly, limbs shaking and eyes glazed over as tears cling to your lashes.

Joel removes his hand from your hair, needing to feel you raw and deep, “shit— darlin’, that’s it. Take it, wanna feel you come on my cock.” He brings your arms around so they’re behind your back, flushing your cheek into the pillow as he holds both your wrists in his hand. He uses his other hand to weigh part of him on your shoulder, curving his back over you and keeping your hips high in the air, pushing your top half deeper into the mattress.

In this position, the tip of his cock is hitting your sweet spot relentlessly, your nails digging hard into his hand to brace yourself from his forceful thrusts, “fuck that’s it, baby, can feel your pussy gripping down so hard on me. Y’gonna come again aren’t you—go on baby—give it t’me.”

Your skin feels like it’s on fire, and high-pitched moans escape your lips, which are mumbled by the pillow below you. Your body reaches a point where white specks start to cover your vision, that knot in your stomach creeping higher and higher. Behind all the power of his thrust and the way his balls tap on your clit with each push of his thighs, there’s somehow another feeling developing. Something you haven’t felt before as your brain starts to process it, to panic.

“J-Joel fuck somethings happening—what’s— shit I can’t—,” you frantically look across to him, but Joel’s eyes are clenched fully shut. His chest is covered in sweat, and his eyebrows are furrowed in concentration, utterly numb to the noise around him, your pussy knocking all sense out of him.

His breath quickens, feeling the way your cunt pulses and quivers around him, “fuck sweet girl, can feel you—shit—can feel y’coming on my cock. Christ, y’such a good girl.”

That’s when it hits you. Your pussy comes, and it’s a sensation you’ve never felt before. It’s so much more intense, your whole body shaking from the pressure, your walls unintentionally pushing Joel out of you.

It’s happening so quickly. Joel’s eyes open wide at the sudden push as his cock leaves your fucked out hole. When his tip falls out, you drench his upper thighs in spurts of your arousal and drench the covers below him, showering him with your release. His mouth agape, watching intensely as your pussy convulses and wets him.

It doesn’t take Joel long to know exactly what he’s pulled from you, pushing in two of his thick digits inside you in hopes of prolonging the orgasm that’s coursing through your body. “Holy shit, sweetheart fuck— that’s it—soak me.” He can feel your walls still fluttering but now on his fingers, squeezing him so tightly. You're gasping into the pillow and mumbling words that Joel can only slightly make out.

Sounding something like fuck Joel and shit shit shit and oh my god.

Joel holds you firm against him, releasing your wrists and wrapping his arm around your stomach, keeping you up as his fingers continue to ease you through your high. You’ve never done that before, but your orgasm is so intense you can’t concentrate on the fact that you’ve completely soaked the sheets and Joel’s bottom half, your body delving too deep into the pleasure.

After what feels like hours, you can feel your body fall back down to the surface, becoming in control of yourself again as Joel keeps you flushed up against his chest, holding your jaw so he can see your expression, “fuck darlin’, you okay?”

It takes you a few moments to catch your breath, “fuck Joel, I don’t—I can’t believe I did that, I’ve never—shit, I’m sorry.”

The way you look at him right now has his knees shaking and chest rising, his cock reacting quickly to how innocent you are. How could you think what you’ve just done is a bad thing? “What y’sorry for darlin’? Fuck, sweetheart, that was hot. I told you to come f’me, didn’t I? Y’did jus’ what I asked of ya.”

The mixture of his words and his firm grasp wrapped around you makes you relax, “I just didn’t expect it.” Joel chuckles, catching your lips in a quick kiss, “Me either, sweetheart, but fuck, it was a sight to see,” the both of you sighing into each other's mouths.

Once your heart rate slows down to a gentle rhythm, you deepen the kiss, brushing your tongue across Joel’s lips and demanding entrance into his mouth. His hold on your jaw tightens, keeping you up and close to him as his tongue starts to dance with yours. It becomes messy, heated, and sloppy once you allow him to easily fight dominance over you. “You think you can do one more darlin’? Jus’ one more f’me?”

He cradles you close, his gaze lighting up as he takes in your features, watching the way your eyes glimmer, pupils filling with eagerness, “Yes, Joel, please—wanna make you feel good.”

He laughs into your mouth, “You do, baby. Always makin’ me feel good. Go and lie down f’me.”

You’re thankful that Joel wants you like this, in this position. Your body falls against the opposite side of the mattress with ease, massaging the knots and aches in your muscles from the position he had you in just moments before. He hovers above you, trailing his lips back down to your chest, pecking your skin with light kisses, his touch radiating onto yours and igniting that flame back to life.

He grasps tightly onto his hard cock, rubbing it through your folds to gather some of your release. In instinct, you wrap both of your legs around his lower back, pushing his groin closer to your core. “Fuck—” Joel grunts into your parted mouth, the sound vibrating down to where you’re connected, your pussy pulling him in, “so fuckin’ perfect.”

Once again, your pussy swallows him in, slowly sheathing himself fully inside. His eyes peer down at you, his continuous praises falling into your mouth; that’s it, darlin’, just feel it, relax f’me, his reassuring words making you adjust as his thighs push into you. The memories start to flood back to him; your warmth, your taste, the tightness of your cunt and how your walls pulled him in. No matter how many times he’d fuck you, either hard or slow, locking you in different positions, you always felt so fucking tight.

He should wait for you to fully adjust, but he’s too far gone. His cock craving release while he pulls out of you to only set a quick pace, gritting his teeth as he watches your face contort in pleasure and slight discomfort from the size of him.

You grip onto his shoulders, bracing yourself as he brings his one hand under the curve of your ass, drawing your legs closer than they were before. He squeezes your cheek in his palm and cups the softness of your skin, the calloused texture of his fingers making you shudder.

He grunts into your skin, “You feeling okay, baby? It’s not t’much is it?”

God, he’s so reassuring, his words reaching that velvety spot inside you, “N-no Joel fuck—feels good. Please don’t stop, I can take it.”

He chuckles into the side of your cheek, “I ain’t gonna stop baby, not until I feel ya coming on my cock.”

He keeps up with his pace, pressing himself inside you deeper and deeper with each thrust until his groin harshly hits the back of your thighs. He makes you ache and hot to the touch, a perfect combination of pleasure and pain, whilst he breaks his hold on your ass to press down lightly onto your abused clit.

“Joel, please—” you whine, his lips silencing your pleas, ready to give you everything you deserve.

“It’s okay, baby, I’ve got you.”

He knows you’re close. He can always tell when you’re about to come; both of your legs shaking against him, he knows it’s about to happen. He loves watching how your bottom lip quivers, the soft sound of his name leaving your lips in a faint like cry. He loves how you can’t control yourself, squirming underneath him as he holds you firm up to his chest, both your sweaty bodies adhering together. “Go on, baby. You can come—show me how good this cocks making y’feel—fuck your pussy’s s’good.”

His words are what make you fall apart, your fourth orgasm of the night rippling through you like it’s the only thing you know. Joel relishes in the way you come, taking in every sound, every breath and every response you give him. He slows his moments slightly, not wanting to overstimulate you but wanting to help ease you through it smoothly. “That’s it, baby, doing so well, so fucking sweet.”

The way your pussy pulses around his girth has his thrust faltering, becoming incoherent and sloppy as he moans heatedly into your mouth, “Christ, y’gonna make me come.” Joel knows he can only hold on for so long, the feeling of your cunt causing his stomach to tighten and head to become clouded and lightheaded.

Once your orgasm subsides, you bring your palms up and rest them on his face, small thumbs smoothing the patchy stubble on his cheeks and jawline, “come, Joel. Y’deserve it. Want you to come for me.”

His arms holding himself up start to buckle and shake, “fuck baby, I’m coming—shit.” Joel’s head drops into your shoulder, biting the skin as hot spurts of his come claim your walls, your pussy milking him for all he’s worth. You can feel his cock throb, your insides becoming hot and full as he continues to pump himself through his high. His arms, which were once strong and held his body up, are now dropping onto the bed, welcoming arms saving his abrupt fall. His chest heaves against the curve of your breasts, rushed pants of air covering the skin of your shoulder blade.

You stay like that for a couple of minutes, tired bodies regaining energy once Joel’s completely emptied himself inside you. Your hands trace feather-like patterns across his back, with his fingers following every line and muscle. The both of you wince in sync when he pulls out of your warmth, feeling his come drip out and onto the quilt below. You don’t care, knowing your own release has already claimed the sheets.

He pulls you onto your side, wide arms surrounding your spent frame, his heartbeat thumping quickly against your back. “You okay, darlin’? Tell me how y’feeling.”

Joel, just moments ago, had pulled four intense orgasms out of you, had your face embedded into the sheets while he fucked you hard from behind, made you come on his mouth and fingers twice and now is asking if you’re alright? His words make you smile, warming to the way his actions and words can change so drastically, “I’m feeling good, Joel, really good— amazing, actually.”

He kisses the side of your cheek, “I’m glad, sweetheart. Happy it wasn’t too much for you”, he hums contently.

A couple of minutes go by, the both of you resting in silence and just enjoying the warmth of each other. The thought of him leaving your side right now makes you feel lost. From what you’ve just shared to how he’s embracing you, Joel’s always made you feel connected and safe.

Your mind rewinds back to all the moments you’ve just had together. Joel’s voice in your ear is what brings you back to the room, “still can’t believe I got you to squirt. Fuck darlin’, that was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.”

You playfully hit his shoulder, “Oh my god, Joel— stop it, please—.” You hide your face into your pillow, “please don’t remind me,” that slight embarrassment rushing across your reddened cheeks. He chuckles against your skin, knowing how easy it is to wind you up, “It ain’t happening again, I promise you that. That was a one-time thing.”

Joel abruptly pulls your body flat onto the bed so you’re facing him, his large hand grabbing your leg and wrapping it around his waist. A surprised yelp falls from your lips from the sudden change in position, his cock hardening against your thigh. You can see his eyes growing darker from your words.

“Now, is that a challenge, baby? Cause it’s definitely happening again.”

Joel was never a man to break his word.

🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵

Tysm for reading! Please let me know what you thought and I hope you enjoyed! Lots of love 🫶🤍

[rsquared31]

🫠🥵😩

If you're still taking requests! 😇 I'd love to see 73. “What happened to my good girl?” and 75. “You'll cum as many times as i want, got it?”... Because overstimulation with Carmy might just fix me 😵‍💫🫠🥵

i absolutely was for sleepover when you sent this my friend!!! i gotchu let's get overstimulated as fuck

73. “what happened to my good girl?” + 75. “you’ll cum as many times as i want, got it?” — from ; bratty/degrading smut prompts

🎀 let's have a sleepover — submissions closed 🎀

⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆

You'd been in a bad, miserable, shit-ass mood all day. And it showed. You were just acting off, Carmy could tell when you even snapped at him.

"Hey, what happened to my good girl, hm?" He muttered, trying not to take offense to you being so pissy.

"She's grumpy." You responded with an eye roll.

"Think I could fix that for you, sweetheart?" Carmy asked, gently grabbing your hips.

His idea of "help" was not what you'd expected. You thought maybe he'd make you comfort food, maybe a back rub, something along those lines. But, as he looked up from your thighs after making you cum for the third time, you realized you were wrong.

"C-Carm, fuck, I don' think I can—"

"You'll cum as many times as I want, got it?" He told you firmly. It wasn't really a question, more of a statement.

You nodded, eyes glazed a bit as you watched him sit up. You were flipped onto your stomach, his hips meeting yours as he slipped into your wet cunt.

"Fuck— fuck!" You squealed, Carmy's pace unrelenting. He was obviously determined to fuck this bad mood out of you.

"Good girl, baby, takin' my dick s'good." He groaned, tugging at your hair a bit. "Cum for me again. Cum on my dick, sweetheart."

[rsquared31]

Congrats on your follower milestone! We love a celebration 😊 Now comes the tough part for me to choose, as there are multiple prompts from those lists that I'd love to see for Carmy... But I'm gonna request from the NSFW/Smut Dialogue prompts... 

29. “Come one more time for me, I know you’ve got it in you.” 

And/or...

65. “I know, baby, I know. I’m right here, just breathe.”

There's nothing I want envision more than a stressed out baby Bear after a long hard night, needing to release all that tension on me...as many times as he wants and I'm more than willing to help him 🫠🥵

i'll go with just 29, i've already done 65 with Carmy right here! <3 and yes I totally agree. As many times as he wants I will GO GO GO. Also I'm... taking some creative liberty with this thank you

29. “Come one more time for me, I know you’ve got it in you.” ; from 100 nsfw/smut prompts

Content Tags: Breeding kink, overstimulation

come request something → 💌 100 follower special

“Come one more time for me, I know you’ve got it in you.”

He'd cum in you twice already, he was so fucking pent up from work and stress - he was basically just using you as a fuck doll at this point.

"Carm... so... full... 's too... much..." You whimpered, looking pitifully at him.

That made him grin a little bit, his hand pressed down on your abdomen. "I know, baby, but look how pretty you are... all full of me. I think you like being full, don't you?"

You couldn't help giggling a little. "One more time..."

Tears streamed down your cheeks when he was inside of you again. You were truly about to be so full that it fucking ached.

[rsquared31]

Submitting for angsty Frankie thoughts!

We usually see Frank being very self-deprecating, thinking he's a bad person or doesn't deserve anything good, but what if it was the other way around... Maybe she's early on in a relationship with Frank, but she deals with depression/anxiety, or trust issues, or she's just never had someone love her like that, and has a hard time believing or accepting that she's good enough/pretty enough for someone like Frank Castle... 🥺 She brushes off his compliments, or thinks that he wouldn't want to "put up with" her for long (Meanwhile she's doing nothing wrong). But as usual, he is ever observant and understanding, and gently persistent in proving her wrong 😩

(I know it seems like this is a common theme, many of us here feel that way or have felt something similar at one point or another. I just really love that through writing/reading fics like these, it has actually helped some people feel better or realize they deserve good things and happiness too.) 🖤

Eeeeeepp this gets me in the heart because soooooo many women can relate. Sweet Frankie would handle it so gently 😩

Frank Castle x Emotionally Insecure Reader

It was so silly, really. It was just your little tinkering hobby and it was just the local library. Yes, they agreed to display your "abandoned miniatures" in the glass case on the main floor but that was only because you sheepishly asked if they'd be interested, having seen other local art in the case. They were so kind to agree and that was validation enough-- you couldn't fathom telling anyone, let alone Frank, that they would be there. This would be your small personal moment of pride and not a burden for others-- everyone had busy lives.

Except Frank was already quite friendly with the librarians, being an avid reader himself. It was one of the few places Frank even got "chatty" in his life, with the local librarians who were all too delighted to have big scary Frank share his thoughts on some of the great classics. He'd grown a bit of camaraderie with them and decided he was going to make a plea to get the new book by your favorite author into the library's circulation.

He stepped up to the desk in the middle of the day on Thursday looking for an update on the book, hoping to surprise you with it for the weekend and they'd proudly handed it over, adding "Oh and tell your girlfriend we're so excited for her display! I love miniatures. Remind her to bring a printed photograph of herself too." The librarian was met with a blank stare as Frank scratched the back of his head in confusion.

"Display?" he asked, cocking his head to the side.

"Yeah, the display. Of her art? The case is all ready, just cleaned it out this morning" the librarian responded, pointing to the empty case. Frank played along, determined to extract the details he needed.

"Ah yeah, yeah. Right, the display. Remind me, when is she settin' that up again?" he asks.

"Saturday at 10am I think," the librarian responds.

"Yeah that's right. Saturday. Alright, thanks again," Frank adds before heading out with the book in hand.

Later that evening Frank was itching to give you the new book and attempt to understand why you hadn't told him about your art display.

"I said close 'em doll. Come on," he urged, making you sit on the couch and close your eyes.

"Frank I hope you didn't go out of your way for something. It's not my birthday or anything," you reply, sitting reluctantly on the couch. it's not that you hated surprises you just never felt all that worthy of a grand gesture.

"It ain't gotta be your birthday for me to treat you nice sweetheart," Frank replies, filing away for later that he needed to unpack where this desire to not be a burden came from in the first place.

Frank gingerly places the fresh, crisp book in your hands and murmurs, "alright open 'em honey."

Your eyes land on the book in your hands and you feel speechless for a moment. How had he remembered this was your favorite author? And how did he manage to get the first copy from the library? It was on waitlists across the city for weeks. You were tearful at the gesture.

"Frank.... how... how did you--" you start, looking up to meet his eyes, creased in the corners from the faint smile on his face.

"Eh, those librarians like me. Got 'em to give me a couple favors," he explains.

"But.... it's just, I mentioned this author maybe once, before we even started dating. How did you know?" you ask, incredulously.

Frank's face screws up a moment, making sense of a question he thought had an obvious answer. "Sweetheart, you've got about eight dog-eared copies of the other books in your apartment and I remembered the way you talked about them like they were magic or somethin' that night on the porch," he answers.

"Oh...I didn't think you'd remember" you answer sort of incredulously, shocked by his consideration. "Why'd you go through so much trouble Frank? I feel so bad if it was a bother," you add, the guilt of being accommodated already settling in.

There was that look again. Frank furrowed his brows, considering how much effort it would take to knock the teeth out of whoever made you think you weren't worth an effort.

"I did it because you're worth doin' it for sweetheart," Frank responds gently, almost like reminding you of a long-forgotten truth. "And I like seein' you happy and bein' the one to do it," he adds, reaching his hand to cup you jaw and stroke it with his thumb. He takes the moment to inspect your face, hoping his stare could bore right into your brain and fix whatever felt broken.

"Hey listen, let's find a good coffee shop this weekend-- we'll read for hours yeah?" he asks, tugging you back from wherever your thoughts were pulling you away.

"Yeah, I'd really love that Frankie. Maybe sometime after Saturday morning?" you ask, remembering your plans to construct the display case.

"Yeah honey," Frank replies, waiting to see if you intended to mention the case, "that'll work fine. You got something you're doing Saturday mornin'?"

"Yeah it's nothing. It's just this thing at --- eh, forget it. Just a thing I have to finish," you reply, halting at inviting Frank. He had already seen your miniatures, he didn't need to see them in the case too. He'd already done so much, you felt so silly asking for more from him.

He nods and you think you notice sadness dance on his face for a moment but it's gone as fast as it came. "Alright honey, Saturday afternoon it is."

-----

You were putting the finishes touches on the case, adjusting the accessories to a few pieces that got dislodged in travel. One of the librarians hovered nearby, nearly squealing at your work.

"Oh my god, it looks so cool. How'd you learn all this stuff??" she asks as her eyes wander over every piece.

Your cheeks burn beet red at the compliment. "Oh geez, thank you. It was a lot of trial and error. And a lot of YouTube," you add with a shrug.

"Well I love it," she says, turning back to the circulation desk. "Oh hey Frank," she adds with a wave.

You go stock still at her greeting. Had she said Frank? Your Frank? You gently place down the tweezers you held and turn slowly toward the desk, Frank's familiar silhouette only three yards away.

"Hi beautiful," he murmurs, that face-lighting grin on his face. He's holding the single largest bouquet of flowers you'd ever seen and he's stepping towards you with his eyes locked on yours.

"Frank- I'm so sorr--" you start but he's shaking his head no.

"Don't you dare apologize doll," he says with a smile, stepping in front of you and guiding your face to his with his free hand to kiss you.

"I should have told you. I just didn't think it was worth your time," you admit, "It's not like it's The Met," you joke with a timid laugh.

He only grins a moment before he's back to attempting to read your mind with his eyes alone. He pulls you a fraction closer, your front pushed against the sturdy wall of his chest, held in place by the arm anchored around your lower back. "You gotta let me in a little bit," he murmurs, bending to say it directly in your ear.

You feel the heat rise to your cheeks, Frank reading you like a book. You're conflicted at the overwhelming desire to let Frank love you the way you dreamed of being loved and the ever-present voice in your head that told you that you weren't worthy of that love.

You make the choice then and there to be vulnerable.

"But what if I let you in and you find there's nothing to love there," you answer him, a whisper in the quiet library, not even able to meet Frank's eye as you said it.

"Hey," Frank says, concern crossing his features, "hey look at me sweetheart" and you reluctantly comply, casting your eyes up while your head remains lowered. "It's not possible. Every ounce you're willin' to give me makes me love you more and more. I feel like I'm drunk on it half the time," he adds with a chuckle and you crack a smile.

"That's my girl," he adds, brushing a thumb along your jaw. "You don't have to believe it yet, but just lemme keep provin' it to ya, yeah?" he asks, requesting your permission to let him love you. You nod, scared as hell but safe in his arms.

[rsquared31]

There aren't words sufficient enough to describe what This Frank does to me... 😵‍💫😩🥵🫠🔥🙌🏼

Girl, you're not insane (If you are, so am I 🤪)

The Frank Castle and sex pollen...stirred thots and feelings 😵‍💫🥵 How about (even without sex pollen lol) he decides to see how many times he can make you cum before you tap out... 🫠💦💀 GODDDD he is the epitome of a soft dom praise king 👑😩

Ok, no joke, the sex pollen smut was like... a little too easy to write? Just flowing out of my fingertips. But even without the sex pollen...

------

Frank Decides To See How Many Times He Can Make You Cum

It's a Tuesday night and Frank had just a pulled a leg-quaking orgasm out of you. Under normal circumstances, he'd be pretty pleased with himself, seeing you all flushed and panting, but tonight the sunset was peeping through the sheer curtains and painting your body in purples and pinks and oranges and you looked like fucking fine art and he wanted to give you more. You deserved more. He felt so hard it almost hurt, his cock throbbing and every surface of his length was hugged in your velvety warmth.

With a muttered "fuck sweetheart" he laces his hand behind your back and scoops you from the bed so you're flush to him, your tits pressed to his chest as he seats you in his lap. His hand reaches up behind your back to cup your head, bringing your ear close to his mouth as he instructs you to "hold onto me honey." You've barely got time to obey when you feel him rutting into you forcefully and you let out a breathy gasp at the sting of him.

You curl into the crook of his neck and your fingernails make crescents on his back. He shushes you, his hand holding you softly on your lower back as he comforts you, "know it's tight baby. takin' it so well ok? remember to breath honey." You can only nod your head in reply, sucking in a slow inhale through your nose and long breath out of pursed lips. The action eases your tense muscles so you repeat it, feeling how it allows another half inch of Frank's length to sink deep into your core.

Almost instantly you feel the winding. The tip of his cock positioned to softly punch that tender spongey spot deep inside your core. You mewl and wrap your arms tightly around the thick column of his neck, your body nearly like a ragdoll in his lap. "Sssh sshh, that's it honey. Just let go, lemme see the way you cum. Come on doll," he murmurs in the shell of your ear. It's only another moment before it tears through you, an orgasm so intense you can't attempt to quiet your scream and Frank stops his thrusts as you quake, planting soft kisses down your neck as you whimper through the aftershocks.

He was so fucking proud of the way you took him, the way your body responded. Selfishly, he wanted more. He wanted the sight of you cumming tattooed on his brain. He gives you only a moment to recover, his cock still buried deep inside you before he stands gingerly and lays you back on the bed, pulling his cock from you with a hiss. You whine -- "Frankie please --" before he sinks to his knees and runs two thick, calloused hands up the backs of your thighs as he pushes your legs up and open to make space for his head to find your pink, glistening mound.

He kisses it softly. The plush pillows of his lips making a wet smacking sound as you squeak out a whimper. He takes a long, languid lick with his wide tongue, the action separating your puffy lips and reaching your achey nub. Your back arches off the bed and he instinctively lands a hand softly on your stomach, anchoring you back to the bed. He licks the wetness of your slit again and again, a glutton for your sticky sweetness until he finally anchors his lips to your nub as he sucks gently. He guides a finger, then two, into your walls as he sucks on your needy pearl, your thighs beginning to clamp tight against his head as you feel the impossible -- another impending orgasm. His fingers pump your hole as his tongue draws you closer, your moans nearly driving him to his own release. He mumbles "mmmm fuck sweetheart, taste so fuckin' good," before devouring you again, his fingers making a lewd squelch as they pump your drenched core.

All is once you feel it, barely a moment to grab a pillow to muffle the scream of his name from your lips. His fingers never lose pace but he reaches to tug the pillow off you, a gentle admonishment saying "nah nah doll, lemme see you when you cum." Your cheeks burn red as he watches you intently, the way his fingers drag out the remaining trembles of your orgasm. You look spent, your body covered in a thin sheen of sweat and your hair a fucking perfect halo around your head.

He knew he exhausted you but he needed just one more. The feral part of him wanted you on your hands and knees so he could drive into you from behind, a stinging slap landing on your perfect ass from time to time, watching is jiggle deliciously as he watched the length of him enter you over and over. But he knew you were nearly comatose and your comfort was always his top priority. He guides you gently to your side so he can lay behind you, your back pressed to his front. He tugs you close and murmurs in your ear, "So proud of you sweetheart. I know I've been rough tonight. I'm gonna give you one more, alright? Can you do that f'me baby?"

You nod and mumble "yes frankie," your words nearly a slur as you reach behind to find his face and run your hand through his hair. At your permission he responds "good girl," as he guides your leg to drape over his hip and he presses the bulbous head of his cock into your warm entrance. Once he's deeply seated he stills himself, your tightness enough to make him coat your walls then and there. He squeezes his eyes shut as he begins slow, calculated pumps, the drag of his length gliding against your achey clit and the depth of his cock hitting you deep in the belly.

He keeps this pace, letting the steel of his cock do the work, letting you sink deeper into his embrace as he wraps his arm to your front and applies feather-light pressure to your clit. He could feel instantly how close you were, your clit engorged and your breathing shallow. You mumble "gonna cum frankie," and he replies "that's a good girl, cum sweetheart," his pace faltering just a moment as he delays his own release. He only needs to pump three more times until he feels the pressure of your squirt force the head of his cock out of your walls. He gently but quickly pulls out to allow the stream of clear, warm liquid to exit your pulsing cunt, rocking you just a but in his arms as you quake. "So fuckin' pretty for me honey. fuck," he huffs into your ear as he gently presses his cock into your warmth again and pumps his own release a moment later.

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

Oops I'm insane!!!!!

[rsquared31]

Hey doll! I love the way you write Frank so much! You nail his sexy tough guy attitude and the way he speaks, as well as his caring side who's a softy teddy bear for his girl. 🥰

Not sure if this would fall under a headcanon or request for a drabble, but this idea keeps popping in my head and thought you'd be great to write it... What if you're with Frank, but you finally meet Karen and/or Madani (who are just friends with Frank) They are gorgeous women who seem to have some sort of history with him, and suddenly you feel super self-conscious, unworthy, or jealous...? Comparing yourself to her/them. Frank being a *man* may not get what's happening with you at first? How would he react when he realizes? If you'd like to run with that in any way, I'd LOVE to see it! Because Oof I love angsty Frank Castle... 🫠🖤

Oooooo I love this! Thank you so much for the suggestion!

How Boyfriend!Frank Would Respond to You Being Jealous of Karen

"You gonna tell me what's wrong?" Frank asks, eyes still on the road.

"Nothing, just tired," you lie, choosing isolation instead of confrontation. The truth felt too mortifying anyway.

"Nah, that's not it," he replies, somehow like an order, and you know the issue won't resolve on it's own because Frank won't let it.

"Frank, it's nothing. If it were something I would tell you," you lie with maybe a little too much desperate pleading in your voice. A silent scream to please just drop it.

"Yeah, like when you were starvin' yourself. Like that time sweetheart?" he asks, sarcasm coloring every word.

"That's not.... come on... it's not like..." you fumble for words but come up with nothing because it was sort of exactly like that.

It had felt monumental but you were trying so hard to play it cool at first. Frank was introducing you to Karen. THE Karen. The Karen who was like one of five people Frank really trusted and adored and thought of as family. He kept a tight-night circle and protected the hell outta them and you were equal parts giddy and anxious to finally be introduced to someone so close to him. This was a milestone in your relationship and you were desperate for Karen to like you.

And by all accounts, it went great! Karen was warm and wonderful and it was obvious why she meant a great deal to Frank. And that would be good if she weren't also alarmingly stunning-- all angles and golden hair and clear blue eyes that seemed to bore into Frank and anticipate his moves and needs as if they had a lifetime of history between them. Which they did-- one you weren't a part of and couldn't dare amount to.

And intellectually, you knew this was good for Frank -- to have such a nurturing relationship with someone after having suffered so much loss. And intellectually, you knew that their bond wasn't based on romance but in deep mutual care and respect. And intellectually, you knew Frank loved and adored YOU-- proudly and happily.

But emotionally, you just... couldn't shake it. That insurmountable feeling of inferiority. You're no Karen -- all poise and grace and stunning intellect. You felt shrunk in her presence, suddenly so keenly aware of the caliber of woman Frank kept close. Maybe you were a fraud. Maybe you'd managed to fool Frank all along and this meeting with Karen would bring the reality-- the reality of YOU-- slamming into clear focus.

"I see the way you're pickin' at your fingernails. Don't tell me it's nothin' sweetheart," he responds, maybe some anger in his tone but you knew concern was what had him so persistent.

You shove your hands under your thighs to stop from picking and let out a long sigh. Your head drops low as you contemplate how to navigate the conversation.

"I'm not Karen," you say plainly.

"Yeah no shit," he scoffs.

You gulp and nod, tears pricking at your eyes at his confirmation. "So then... we don't have to.... Listen, I get it if tonight was eye-opening. It was for me. I would understand," you respond.

"Understand what doll?" has asks, his brows stitched in confusion as he ventures a quick glance to the passenger seat.

"Understand if you feel like, I dunno, you have regrets or something," you stutter out.

He pauses, his eyes scanning the road before he checks his rear view and pulls over to the shoulder, puts the truck in park and smashes his finger into the button to turn on the hazards.

"Frank what are--" you start but you're cut off.

"You mind tellin' me what exactly I'd be having regrets about?" he asks, shifting in his chair to face you.

"Well... you know..." you answer, gesturing sort of vaguely at yourself.

"No, I don't think I do know. Why don't you be specific," he says unblinking, his eyes bored into yours, feeling like you were on the other end of an interrogation.

"About me, Frank. I'm not like her. Not even close. Like, she's so damn perfect and you guys together are so-" you blurt out, stopping yourself before you regretted it.

"So wrong, sweetheart. Karen and I are wrong together. I don't love her, not like that at least," he answers with conviction.

"But-" your sputter.

"But what? You gonna tell me how I feel now?" he retorts, raising his brows in question.

"Well no but the way you two are.... it's just special. And she's so, just so gorgeous and kind and..." you reply, your sentence fizzling into the air like mist as his brows furrow again.

He shakes his head at your reply and huffs air out of his nose before reaching across to your seat belt and unlatching it, tugging you across the seat of the truck cab and firmly into his lap. Two calloused hands land on either side of your face and his warm brown eyes scan your face as he brushes a stray hair from your forehead.

"We gotta get you glasses sweetheart," he murmurs.

You contort your face in confusion, muttering "what are you talking about Frank?"

"Cuz you don't see what I see," he answers and you roll your eyes a little at his dad joke.

"I don't think they make glasses like that," you joke back, but the complicated feelings were still stuck, their little grippers dug deep into your feelings.

"Nah I mean it. You really don't see it and that's a problem," he adds, your face flashing to him in concern before he continues, "that I'll consider my duty to solve."

"Unless you're a licensed therapist, you may regret that," you reply flatly. His hands leave your face to land on your hips and he tugs you an inch closer, your chest pressed to his.

"Then I'll happily die tryin' doll," he replies, using a hand to nudge your chin up and meet your eyes again. He plants a tender kiss on your lips then another and another and another until he feels you melt a fraction in his arms.

You pull away for a moment, lip gloss smudged on your face and his, pupils already blown as you feel the pads of his fingers sink into your fleshy hips and you say, "You kisses are no match for my cripplingly low self esteem."

At this he barks out a laugh and responds, "Well fuck sweetheart, I'll guess we'll have try more than kisses then huh?"

[rsquared31]

Softy smutty Joel perfection 🥹😍🥵🫠🤌🏼

Lovely To Be Rained On With You

Summary: 3K. Reader and Joel rush to find shelter from the storm

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, post-outbreak, oral f!receiving, unprotected PIV, creampie

A/N: okay I have spent so much time on here reading other Joel fics and enjoying myself so I kinda wanted to give back. but first of all I need to get three things off my chest. one, it's been a long time since I've written anything. two, this is my first writing The Last of Us. three, and probably most important as I beg for kindness, it's my first time writing smut. this has been sitting in my docs for too long so Imma just press post and walk away. enjoy! AO3

The weather was changing rapidly. Not long ago it had only been partly cloudy, but now, for as far as the eye could see, the sky was one massive, threatening cloud. The leaves danced on their branches as the gusting wind flowed through them; their rustling a constant melody accompanied by the quickening beat of two pairs of boots.

Tightening the grip on your rifle, you look up at the darkening sky. The weapon could protect you from a lot, but not from this. It had been four days since you left camp and it was still another day’s walk until you returned. 

There was no outrunning this storm.

A few feet ahead of you Joel Miller marches onward, his broad frame and long legs setting a rapid pace you struggle to keep up with. The pack on your back is overfilled and heavy with recently looted goods. It causes your steps to be slow, more cautious and measured. 

You take a deep breath, “Joel…?” you begin. You’re both thinking it. Someone has to say it out loud. “It’s gonna pour in any minute.”

His graying curls dance along with the leaves in the wind. He steps over a fallen tree then turns and offers his hand to help you over. You graciously accept it, sliding your fingers over his calloused hand. The weight of the bag digs into your shoulders as you step over. Had it not been for the heavy sack you would have been closer to camp by now, but those supplies are the sole reason the two of you journeyed so far away.

“I know,” he says as you join him on the other side of the log. 

“We’re too far from camp—”

“I know,” he repeats, his brows furrowing. He scouts the distance, bright eyes scanning left and right, through the trees and beyond. A bead of sweat slowly falls down his face, the unseasonable hot May weather demanding to be acknowledged.

“There was a cabin…” he trails off, lost in thought. You look ahead, only seeing trees. “D’you remember? Was it before or after all those alliums we saw?”

You think back and try to remember this area from a few days ago but a lot had happened since: Joel injured his shoulder wrestling with a jammed door; you found and promptly devoured a can of ravioli; there were two separate attacks with solitary infected; finding the motherlode of supplies in what looked like a doomsday prepper’s basement; oh, and then there was last night. 

Still riding the high of finding all those medical supplies and ammunition (and a bottle of bourbon), the two of you spent last evening in high spirits. You shared stories and laughed and drank. Joel hummed a tune that had you swaying your hips and smiling towards the obsidian sky. For a moment things felt so easy and normal. 

At some point that night, with only a sliver of the moon in the sky, you stumbled in the darkness and fell into Joel’s arms. You had looked up at him, your hand rested on his strong chest as you breathed in the scent of him. Your body tingled where his hands pressed into your waist. The stars twinkled above him as he smiled crookedly and whispered, “y’okay, sweetheart?” and you nearly confessed. Nearly told him how you truly felt about him. Nearly revealed you knew he watched you when he thought you couldn’t see. 

Nearly kissed his gorgeous face. 

But then he dropped his hands, the magic of the moment gone, and you swallowed your feelings. You fell asleep last night wishing things were different. Wishing Joel was yours. 

A single raindrop plopping on your forehead brings you back to the present. “We saw the cabin first,” you recall. “And then the flowers.”

Joel nods, walking forward even faster than he had before. He too must have felt a raindrop. 

The two of you continue onwards, the sky teasing you with singular drops of rain as you migrant the woodsy terrain. It doesn’t take long until you see them in the distance. 

Alliums. The purple flowers, towering high on skinny stalks, sway in the wind. The bulbous plant, petals like bursting fireworks, are scattered across the field. The sight of them brings you relief. It shouldn’t be much longer until you find the cabin. 

Just as you walk past the last bunch of flowers the sky begins to open up. The rain comes softly at first. Small drops that slide off your skin and moisten your clothing. Foolishly, you believe if it continues like this you’ll be fine. But as lightning shoots across the sky and thunder shakes your body, the drops grow heavier, their frequency increasing. 

The rain continues to fall harder as you trek on. The sound of water blanketing the land drowns out everything else. Joel turns and looks behind at you, his normally bouncy hair weighted down and plastered to his face. Another clap of thunder rings as the rain soaks through you. It seeps all the layers of your clothing, through your jeans, through your socks, pooling in your boots. 

Walking is becoming more difficult as your boots sink into the mud, your clothes are soaked through and heavy and your cumbersome backpack doesn’t help. You’re about to yell ahead, tell Joel it doesn’t even matter anymore, that you’re too tired, but then you see the cabin. 

It’s a tiny little thing. The sheltered patio leads into one cozy room. To your right is a kitchenette, directly in front of you is a small living space, and further back, against the wall rests a bed. There’s a closed off area there as well, presumably a bathroom. 

Joel crosses the cabin, his hand resting on the pistol holstered to his hip, and peers into the smaller room. His posture relaxes and he gives a quick nod. The cabin is safe. 

You rest your rifle against the wall by the door and unceremoniously drop your bag. Relief spreads through your bones. You arch your back and stretch your arms upwards, pulling the muscles along your spine. You glance across the room and there it is again—Joel is watching you. His eyes travel your body and linger where your soaked top clings to your chest.

He’s lost in the sight of you. You raise your arms higher, his gaze warming your cheeks and your core, and you push your chest further out to taunt him. The wet fabric is unforgiving and you're sure he can see your hardened nipples even from across the room. 

You decide to break the silence. “You think it will last long?”

Joel snaps to attention, his eyes finding yours as he runs his fingers through his hair. “Huh? What was that?”

“The storm,” you pause to lick your lips. “Do you think it’ll last long?”

Joel sets his backpack down at the head of the bed. “Not too sure,” he looks past you out the window at the turbulent weather, “regardless, we should stay here for the night.” He opens his bag and begins to rummage through it. 

You nod as you walk over to the foot of bed. With your back facing him you sit on the edge. “In that case I’m gonna get out of these clothes.”

You wrap your fingers under the hem of your shirt and pull it over your head. You toss the clothing and it lands with a loud slap on the wooden floor. After kicking off your boots and socks you lift your hips off the bed enough to push your jeans to your thighs. You struggle to get the tight and stiff wet denim off your legs. 

You lean back on your forearms and look behind at Joel. He’s suddenly very interested in his bag. You watch as he digs around, the muscles in his arms pressing against his tee. His face is glistening wet and it highlights the slope of his nose and the curve of his jaw. He’s just as handsome as always. 

“Hey, Joel?” You bite your lip and wait for his attention. 

His hands still as he looks down at you. “Yes, sweetheart?”

The endearment makes your heart swell. You swing your dangling legs. “Can you help me out of these? They’re giving me trouble.”

He looks at the jeans halfway down your thighs. You’ve changed in front of Joel before but after last night, after spending so much time alone with him, things have gotten intimate.  You feel exposed half undressed in your mismatched undergarments, but it’s also exciting and your breath quickens under Joel’s glare. 

“Yeah, I can help,” he nearly whispers. He drops his bag on the floor, the stuff within no longer important, and rounds the bed. You lift your legs when he gets close and await his touch. 

He holds your ankles first. Gathering the material there, he attempts to pull, but the jeans barely move. So his hands climb up, over your calves, then behind your knees, and when they reach your thighs he pauses. He hooks onto the edge of the material, his thick fingers touching your bare skin, and pulls.

The jeans start to give way. As he tugs your body jostles, your breasts bouncing lightly in your worn bra, each jerk becoming more arousing. Once he’s peeled your pants off he discards them onto the floor along with your shirt. 

“There ya go,” he says as he comes between your legs and leans in. “Will you be needin’ anything else?”

He looks at you, his eyes intense and questioning. He’s so close you can feel his body heat, even with his cool wet shirt brushing against your bare torso. A flash of lightning briefly brightens the room. You swallow hard and wait for the resounding thunder. You won’t repeat last night. You won’t let this moment pass. 

“Kiss me,” you whisper. 

And suddenly Joel’s lips are pressed against yours. He kisses you hungrily, mashing himself against you, finally feeding the longing you’ve both felt for some time. You part your mouth and allow his tongue entry as you melt into him. You explore each other, your hands running along his chest as you’re rendered breathless under his kissing. Your fingers tangle in his shirt. You pull at the fabric wanting to feel his skin against yours. 

Joel breaks from the heated kiss and straightens his body. His eyes are dark and filled with lust as he yanks his shirt off. You watch him as you scoot back on the bed and fully lay down. He kicks off his boots and undoes his belt and jeans. His body is strong from years of manual labor. There’s a line of hair on his soft belly that trails under his boxers.  

“What else do you need, sweetheart?”

You can’t tell if the roaring in your ears is the sound of the rain or of your quickly beating heart. Joel waits for your answer as he unclips the gun holster from his belt and rests it on the floor. His hardening cock springs free when he drops his pants and boxers. 

He strokes himself slowly and you watch as his cock gets harder in his grasp. You rub your thighs together, desperately seeking relief for the growing ache between your legs. You unclasp your bra and cup your breasts. Joel softly grunts when you pinch your nipples between your fingers. 

The sight of him bare and beautiful leaves you breathless. He looks so handsome with his hair slicked back and glossy from the rain. The sight of his cock, hard and ready for you, sets you on fire. He licks his lips and all you can think about is those lips on you. On your mouth, on your tits, on your cunt. You have never wanted someone so badly. 

“You, Joel,” you finally say. “I need you.”

He smiles at your answer and makes his way onto the bed. He takes his time crawling up to you, planting kisses along the way. He pauses when he meets the apex of your legs. 

His fingers curl around the band of your panties and he pulls them down and off. You open your legs, inviting him in, so desperate for his touch. 

He looks up with hungry eyes. “I want to taste you,” he says as his fingers part your pussy lips, opening you even further for him. 

Joel opens his mouth and presses his tongue against your cunt. He licks up, takes his time savoring you until he passes over your sensitive bundle of nerves. The sensation has you moaning and lifting your hips to meet his mouth. 

“Oh, Joel,” you whine as he continues sucking and licking you, alternating between the flat of his tongue and the point of his tip. One of his large fingers finds the entrance to your hole and pushes inside. 

“Fuck, you’re so wet for me already,” he mumbles into your folds. “One of my fingers isn’t enough, is it?”

Your hands run through his hair as he inserts another finger inside you, your walls clenching around him. He pumps his fingers in and out of you, curling them into the spot within you that has you moaning his name. 

Your pleasure grows as Joel finds his rhythm, his mouth and hand working together to bring you closer and closer to orgasm. 

“Please, Joel,” you’re begging, pleading with him. “Don’t stop! I’m so close, please don’t stop!”

So he doesn’t. His moans join your screams of pleasure until the pressure in your core finally snaps. Your back arches and your legs shake as your orgasm rips through you. Joel’s fingers continue to work through your high, prolonging your pleasure until your legs relax and your grip loosens from his hair. 

“Fuck,” you exhale as Joel crawls up, his strong body caging around you. He leans into you, the touch of his skin on yours and the weight of him soothing your body. He nestles his face into the crook of your neck as one of his hands squeezes your breast, his fingers playfully twisting your nipple. 

He’s planting kisses on you again, on your neck, along your jaw, then on your lips. You moan when you taste your own release on his tongue as he slips it between your lips. You spread your legs further underneath him, a fire burning in your core that only he can put out. His cock rests thick and hard between you. 

“I still need you,” you whisper, lifting your hips to grind yourself against the length of him. You need all of him, every pound and every inch. You need his touch, his lips, his moans. You need him around you. You need him in you. 

He grunts as you rub against him, your wet hole eager to be filled. 

“I need you too,” he whispers back as he reaches in between your bodies. He grabs himself and aligns the thick head of his cock at your entrance. 

You whimper as he slowly pushes himself inside you. Inch by inch your walls stretch to accommodate his shaft. Seeds of pleasure start to grow when he’s fully inserted into you. 

Joel stills inside you and looks into your eyes. His face is twisted in bliss. “Goddamn, your pussy is squeezing me so tight,” he rasps. He sharply exhales when you flex your cunt around him. 

You wrap your arms around his neck and pull him in for a kiss. He begins to pump his hips then, making soft shallow thrusts until he’s gotten used to the feeling of you. He moans into your mouth as he picks up the pace, nearly pulling himself out of you entirely before plummeting back into your depths. 

His dick is intoxicating. Waves of pleasure wash over you each time he rams himself deep in you. He fills you completely, your wet hole stretching around the length of him. 

Joel begins stroking faster, his hips snapping into you at a blinding pace. Your fingers dig into his back when he rocks into the spot that makes you arch your back and moan his name. 

He smiles, satisfied with the pleasure his cock gives you. “Right there?” He asks as he continues to mercilessly drill into you, pounding your sweet spot over and over again. 

“Yea—oh my god, Joel—yes!”

He’s already pushing you towards your next orgasm and he can sense it. He repositions your bodies, folding you nearly in half as he brings your knees up. 

You scream out as the altered position lets him stroke deeper inside you. His cock hits your cervix, pain and pleasure meshing together, forcing you closer to the edge. 

“You like that, sweetheart?” Joel asks as your moans increase in volume. “Look at your pretty pussy juices making a mess… so fucking wet.”

You look down where the two of you are connected. You watch as he disappears inside you and then reappears again, shiny with your slick. The image makes your head spin. 

“I… oh fuck! I’m gonna… I’m gonna—”

“You’re gonna cum on my cock for me? Huh?” His strokes are becoming more erratic, his own orgasm approaching. “Gonna let me feel that pussy grip my dick while you cum?”

Joel’s filthy words combined with his dick destroying your cunt sends you over. You yell out as your orgasm knocks over you. Your pussy pulsates around Joel, pushing him over the edge. You milk his cock as he cums, his dick twitching inside you as his warm seed fills your hole. 

The two of you lay there a while, Joel softening inside you as his body envelopes yours. When your body has relaxed and your breathing has slowed Joel softly presses his lips to yours. He rises and slowly pulls out. You feel your combined arousal spill out of you once he’s completely out of the warmth of your cunt. You immediately miss the fullness he gave you when he rolls over to lay beside you. 

The storm continues on outside. Fat raindrops pellet the cabin and the wind rattles the windows. Staying in was a good call, the sky was already darkening with the approaching night. 

You look over to Joel. His eyes are closed, his face is soft and relaxed. You don’t think you’ve ever seen him look so calm before.

“Y’okay, sweetheart,” you ask, mirroring Joel’s words from last night. 

Joel chuckles as he intertwines his fingers in yours. “Yeah. I am now.”

[rsquared31]

We really got played tonight... 😩😭🤡💀

raise your hand if you’ve ever felt personally victimized by pedro pascal not going to the met gala

[rsquared31]

This is amazing 🙌🏻🖤

Obligation [Joel x f!reader]

Read on Ao3

Fandom: The Last of Us

Ship: Joel Miller x you/f!reader who is 52.

Tags/warnings: Throwing up, unplanned pregnancy, angst, Joel doesn't take it well but is soft, implied abortion.

Summary: You've been fucking Joel Miller for a couple of months when you realize that you're pregnant - which you didn't think possible because you thought you were menopausal. How does one get an abortion in Jackson - and how are you going to tell Joel?

Words: 4,267

A/N: For all my old gals out there, as well as those who don't want kids.

My masterlist

I think I may be pregnant.

The realization reverberates through you, bringing with it another wave of nausea. You barely have time to stick your head down the toilet before you throw up. The acrid taste of bile fills your mouth and nose, and tears stream down your cheeks. You grip the toilet seat as you continue retching, your stomach hellbent on emptying itself.

Shit. Shit. Shit. Fuck. Shit. No. No, no, no, no, no, how can this be?

What an idiot question. You almost laugh at yourself in the midst of this misery. How does one become pregnant? Well, fucking someone like Joel Miller on a regular basis is a good start. He fucks you deep and good, the bed and his body creaking in unison as he has you pinned underneath him, his broad, heavy body a welcome weight on you, his cock balls deep inside your wet cunt when he finishes and leaves you full even after he's pulled out. His thick, creamy cum dripping out of you when you fall into blissful sleep, sometimes with him staying over.

You know how babies are made, for God's sake. You just didn't count on you still being able to make them. You're past 50,  and your period stopped years ago. This is new to you, you’ve never been pregnant before or even had an interest in trying, but you’re not stupid. You’ve been feeling tired lately, out of sorts, a dull nagging feeling in the pit of your stomach like just before your period, and last night when Joel grabbed your breasts, you almost punched him. Even now they’re so sore even the weight of them hurts.

And now this. Morning sickness. You haven’t eaten anything strange, you were okay last night, and paired up with everything else that has been going on… you must be pregnant.

Thank God Joel isn’t here, you think dimly. He didn't stay over last night, quoting an early morning today to go on patrol. You didn't mind. What you have together is casual, and you're not the one who needs to be cuddled – or coddled, for that matter. You like it when he stays over, but don’t care if he doesn’t. It has worked out well for a few months now.

And now this. You draw a quivering breath, and slump against the wall. It seems like your stomach has settled, so after a couple of minutes, you carefully stand up and bend over the sink, rinsing out your mouth with cold water before splashing some in your face. Straightening your back, you meet your tired gaze in the small mirror above the sink. There is nothing different there, except a lack of energy, but nothing that could reveal the fact that you are carrying a growing clump of cells in your belly.

The thought makes you nauseous again, and you step back to the toilet, expecting to be sick, but there is nothing else to expel, so you flush the toilet, and slowly make your way to the kitchen. Despite being sick, or because of it, you’re hungry, so you take out what provisions you have, and sit down at the table. You usually take your meals in the dining hall, but you don’t want to show yourself right now. God knows what will happen if anyone asks you how you are. And what if you eat, and then throw up again?

Slowly, you gnaw away at a slice of bread with cheese on it, while trying to get yourself together and think over your options. But no matter how you try to think about it, there are no options except one: you have to get rid of it. The reasons are many, but the two most pressing ones are the simple fact that you have never wanted children, and this is not a world into which children should be born, as far as you’re concerned. The more you think about it, the more certain you are. But how in the hell are you going to get an abortion? And while you may not be shy, how the actual fuck are you going to tell the doc that you, a 52-year-old woman, didn’t think to protect yourself? Or that you know your own body so badly that you didn’t even know that you’re, in fact, not post-menopausal?

You stopped crying years ago because tears have no function in this world, but now your humiliation makes your tears well up. You sniffle wetly, put down the piece of bread, and angrily wipe at your eyes.

“Fuck,” you mutter, but there is no stopping the tears. When the first one runs down your cheek, you bang your fist to the table and scream.

“FUCK!”

You let the tears fall, confident that there won’t be too many. When you’re done crying, you finish your meagre breakfast, wipe your face, and get dressed. A day of work awaits you, and maybe if you work hard enough…

You shudder at the thought. You may not have any experience in this department, but you know that your age is a liability. Things could go wrong, and you could die. You don’t want to die. You didn’t survive for all these years just to get taken out by a goddamn unwanted pregnancy.

Fortified by your sheer will to live, you open the front door, and get to work.

During your lunch break, you slip into the Jackson library, which is only just one room in the schoolhouse. The collection consists of whatever has been found during raids, as well as works that the residents have brought with them. The stacks are neat, though, thanks to the teacher who also doubles as a librarian. The collection is divided into main classes, and you quickly find the small section for Biology. There is a middle school book with a chapter on human reproduction, but that’s just the basics. You check the Medicine section, finding nothing. You leave the library, mentally chiding yourself for thinking that you’d find anything there to help you deal with the fact that you’re geriatric, pregnant, and in need of an abortion, with no hope of having one because there are no hospitals, only one doctor who operates out of a simple cabin with barely any equipment or drugs.

Anxiety rises in you again, bringing bile with it. You slink in behind the nearest house and bend over. What little breakfast you had lands before your feet, and you spit away the taste.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. What the fuck am I going to do?

You take a steadying breath before reappearing back on the street, aiming for your house. So purposeful are you to get away from people, that you don’t notice the tall man next to you before he puts his hand on your arm.

“Hey.”

You start, jerking back before you recognize Joel’s frowning face.

“Sorry,” he apologizes immediately. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” you nod, casting your eyes down as you continue your walk. “Just didn’t see you there.”

“Going to lunch?”

“I already ate.”

“All right.” His hand is on your arm again, now effectively stopping you in the middle of the street. He stands in front of you, broad, tall, and smelling of horses.

“You sure you’re okay?” His voice is lower now, so as to not have anyone overhear him. “You look a little pale.”

Joel Miller has been nothing but good to you. He doesn’t talk much, and what little he talks, happens in the darkness after you’ve fucked, when there are no barriers left between the two of you. He keeps to himself, to the girl who was with him when he arrived, to his brother. To you, now. You may not be able to make him laugh as Ellie does, but he saves soft smiles for you. He’s loyal, kind, and helpful. And despite all that, you’re going to lie to him.

“I didn’t sleep well.” You look into his eyes, even giving him the ghost of a smile. “You wore me out, but I still couldn’t sleep.”

His face softens visibly, a smile playing in the corner of his mouth as he leans in and whispers: “I’m sorry, darling. Just have to try harder next time.”

Something flutters in the pit of your stomach, but it doesn’t translate to the usual heaviness between your legs. Instead, you just feel sick for having lied to him.

Joel’s hand travels down your arm to your hand, thick fingers quickly squeezing years before letting go.

“See you later?”

You hear the question, know what it means.

“I think I better get a good night’s sleep?”

Joel flashes a sympathetic grin. “Good idea. See you around.”

You watch him stride towards the dining hall, broad back squared, head held high in constant vigilance, even here within the walls of Jackson.

He’ll figure it out eventually. He’s smart. He’ll know something’s up.

You shake your head to get rid of those unwanted thoughts, and then you return to work.

The next morning starts the same way the previous one did: with your head down the toilet bowl. This time you feel even more sick because you didn’t get much sleep, and when you finally emerge out of your house, you run into Joel, who’s halfway up your porch.

“Morning,” he greets you, then stops as he sees your ashen face. “What’s wrong?”

“I think I’m coming down with something,” you shrug, stacking another lie upon the previous one.

“Maybe you should stay home, get some rest,” he suggests, and even if he’s wearing his customary frown, you can hear how his voice is laced with concern. Managing a smile, you brush your arm against his.

“I’ll just get antsy. I’ll take it easy today, I promise.”

He’s happy with that and doesn’t question you when you don’t go to communal breakfast.

For the next few days, you do what you can to avoid Joel. You don’t want him to know that you’re sick in the mornings, don’t want him to touch you and find out how tender your breasts are, don’t want to talk to him or even see him because it only reminds you of the solution you inevitably have to find soon. You’re going to have to come clean to the doc at the very least –  unless you try to deal with the situation by yourself somehow. But you have no idea how to do that without hurting yourself, and that’s the last thing you want to do.

Finally, it’s Joel who takes the first step. You have declined his visits for a week when he surprises you by knocking on your door one night. His face is backlit by the porch light that creates a halo around his ragged, curl-prone hair.

“Can I come in?”

“I’m tired,” you mumble, but he speaks your name, and you realize that there is no running away anymore. So, you step to the side to let him in.

He stands before you, arms crossed over his broad chest as he stares at the floor between the two of you. You can’t look at him, so you stare at the same spot. There’s dirt from his boots there, but you don’t care.

“Listen, I…” he starts, clearing his throat. “I know nothing’s been explicitly said here. About us, I mean. It is what it is. But I thought we had a good thing going, and now it seems like you don’t want anything to do with me anymore?”

Your stomach drops, and for a moment you fear that you’ll throw up your dinner as well as you did your breakfast.

“Joel…”

“I just want to know if I did something wrong, so that I can apologize and then leave you be.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” you tell him quietly, wrapping your arms around yourself to prevent the slight trembling that’s starting to travel through your body. Your nerves are shot, and you press your lips together to keep your teeth from chattering.

“Then what is it?” Now he’s looking at you. You can feel his eyes burn into you.

Does he have to sound so fucking gentle? It would be easier if he yelled at you, or stormed out, or hadn’t come at all, but you should have known that Joel Miller would be so fucking gentle about it.

You take a deep breath, then finally look up into his eyes.

“I’m pregnant.”

Joel stares at you, his face blank. There is just nothing there for several breaths before his brows rise and his arms fall to his sides.

“You’re what?”

“You heard me.”

He still looks at you like he doesn’t understand.

“But… how is that possible?”

You lean your head to one side and give him a come on kind of look. Joel scoffs, scratches his head, then shakes it.

“Aren’t you too old?”

“That’s what I thought.”

“You didn’t know?”

You don’t like the hint of accusation in his voice.

“I’m sorry I haven’t seen my healthcare provider in a while!” you snap, now irritated. The change in tone causes in a change in Joel as well.

“If you weren’t sure, then why the hell weren’t you more careful?”

“So it’s my fault?” Your voice is now raised, and your hands come to your hips. “You took one look at me and thought, ‘Oh, this old hag surely has no eggs left’, and then you happily stuck your dick in me, to hell with any other consequences?”

“You should’ve said something!” he growls, now visibly upset. If you weren’t so intimately familiar with just how soft he could be, you’d be afraid of his dark storm cloud demeanor. But you’re not afraid: you’re pissed off.

“I didn’t know,” you articulate. “I haven’t had my period in years, and I’m over fifty! How the fuck could I have known that I could get fucking pregnant!”

“Is it even mine?” Joel retorts, and for some reason, that’s what makes you snap. Before you know it, your palm has connected with his cheek, and you’re pointing at the door.

“Get out. Get the fuck out, now!”

You don’t need to tell him twice: the door slams only a moment after. You’re no longer feeling nauseous, or trembling. You’re just empty inside.

He's back the next morning. You did not expect that, and eye him with apprehension where he stands in the doorway, shame etched into his features.

"Can I please come in?" he asks quietly. You're nauseous again, but you don't want to be a bitch. He's a good one, you know that, despite everything. He deserves a chance.

You let him in, gesture for him to go on through to the kitchen. Following him, you swallow down the nausea, and hope that you won't have to throw up. It would be so humiliating.

Sitting down, you nod to him to do the same. He perches uncomfortably on the edge of his seat, sincere gaze searching for eye contact.

"I'm really sorry," he finally says, his voice low but earnest. "I handled myself poorly."

You give him a Ya think? look but say nothing. He gets the message.

"I didn't expect... or think..." He falls silent, looks down at the scratched surface of the table. You stare him down relentlessly, waiting for him to speak on. He's slowly rubbing the knuckles of his right hand, like they're itchy or in pain.

"I had a daughter, a long time ago. She... I lost her on the first day."

Your heart could break from the choked agony of his voice. Swallowing hard, this time to fight the lump in your throat, not nausea, you reach across the table to put your hand over his.

"Joel..."

He looks up at you, now with a new fire in his eyes.

"It was a long time ago, but I've lived in that pain every day, until Ellie took me out of it. And now... this feels like a second chance."

He raises your hand to his lips and presses a kiss to your palm. You stare at him, suddenly wary.

"What do you mean, second chance?"

"To have a child with you."

You stare at him in bewilderment, barely even sure you heard him right. He hurries to elaborate.

"I'll take my responsibility. I'll help you raise the child. You won't have to do it all alone."

You quickly pull your hand out of his, like you burned yourself.

"Joel... I'm not going to keep it?"

Before Joel can say anything, your stomach revolts, and you shoot out of your chair, only just making it to the sink before you throw up. Spitting and turning on the water to wash away the vomit, you cup your hand under the stream of cold water, and drink to eradicate the sour taste in your mouth. Barely having swallowed the water, you throw up again.

Joel's warm body pushes gently against you, and his hand is on the small of your back.

"That's it," he murmurs, "deep breath, you're okay."

"I'm fine," you gasp, trying to breathe through your mouth to avoid the smell that seems to penetrate everything.

"I know," he replies calmly, reaching for a glass and filling it with water before handing it to you. "Here."

You drink carefully, hoping it'll stay down. The cold water chills your entire stomach, but you do feel better.

"Thanks." You glance up at him, hand holding the glass shaking a little. Joel notices, and takes it from you.

"You're welcome. Wanna sit down?"

You nod mutely, and he leads you back to the kitchen table. You can walk by yourself, but it's comforting to have his hand on your back. You're no longer alone in this, and it's a bigger relief than you thought.

You bow your head and hide your face in your hands for a moment, steadying yourself. Hearing the other chair scrape against the floor, you finally look up at Joel.

He looks sad but resigned.

"How far along are you?" he asks quietly. You shrug.

"No idea."

"Probably over six weeks."

You shrug again and draw your hand through your hair.

"I meant what I said, Joel." You try to sound gentler. "I'm not keeping it. I can't. I don't want it."

He casts his eyes down, and for a second you think you see a tremble in his lower lip. Then he sniffles with a grimace and looks up again.

"Okay."

You raise your brows. "Is that all you're going to say?"

"It's not my decision, sweetheart." This term of endearment is new, and you're not sure what to make of it.

"You're not going to try to convince me to keep it?" you dare him, but without vehemence. You're just tired.

Joel shakes his head, but you can see that he has something on his mind.

"Joel?" you prompt, and he finally sighs deeply.

"Are you sure you won't regret it?" His voice is eerily toneless, like he's trying his best not to sound accusatory. You rub your forehead with both palms in an attempt to suppress the headache that you can feel building up behind your frontal lobe.

"I've never wanted kids," you tell him in the same, dispassionate voice. "Not when I was younger, and surely not now. Not in this world, not at my age. Not at all."

He flinches, like your words hurt him, but then he nods solemnly.

"Okay. What are you going to do?"

You take a deep breath to steady yourself, because the question faced you with the fact that you have absolutely no idea how to deal with this.

"I don't know."

Your voice breaks, and the first tears well up in your eyes.

"Fuck." The tears spill down your cheeks, and you hide your face from Joel, embarrassed by this sudden display of desperation.

"Hey..."

He's around the table in a heartbeat, crouching by your chair and collecting you into his arms.

"It's okay, sweetheart, we'll figure it out. We'll talk to the doc."

The tears multiply, and you sob audibly from sheer relief of having someone else take charge. You haven't lived with the knowledge of your condition for barely a week, but it has weighed you down more than you knew. And now Joel knows, and he is telling you that it's going to be all right.

"I - just - feel - so - stupid!" you whimper between the sobbing, and Joel strokes his hand down your back.

"Not as stupid as I feel. It's okay, I promise you it'll be okay."

You draw a deep, quivering breath, and square your shoulders. They feel lighter, and you wipe your eyes and cheeks before smiling weakly at Joel.

"Thank you."

"I got you," he smiles back, a dimple appearing in his cheek. You haven't seen it before. It feels like a promise.

Carl, Jackson's doctor, is a GP, but has had to deal with a variety of emergencies over the years. He doesn't bat an eye when you, seated next to Joel, tell him of your predicament, and that you want a termination. He asks for a urine sample, handing you a cup that you, frowning, take with you into the bathroom, do your business, and leave it on the counter, as per Carl's instructions. Coming out of the bathroom, Carl asks you to come back in the afternoon. You agree on a time before you and Joel step out. He squeezes your hand before you part to go to work.

Returning later to Carl's office, you find out that you are, with a seventy percent accuracy, indeed pregnant.

"It's the best test I have," Carl explains. "If a thin film forms over the urine, pregnancy is likely. If not, there is no pregnancy."

"And it couldn't be anything else?" Joel asks, surprising you. Carl looks pained for a moment, and you realize what a difficult question that is. Your hand moves on top of Joel's on the arm rest.

"Given the symptoms; breast tenderness, morning sickness, light cramping... I can't think of anything else to explore."

 "How do we stop it?" you want to know. "Can we even?"

"A surgical abortion is technically possible," Carl nods, and you feel your shoulders relax. "I've done it a couple of times before I came to Jackson, even."

"Well, good."

"Is it safe?" Joel's voice seems tight. "Is it doable here, in these conditions?"

Carl hesitates for a moment before leaning forward to rest his forearms on his desk.

"The procedure itself doesn't take longer than fifteen minutes, but our conditions are, as you probably understand, not ideal. I can sterilize the equipment, but our biggest concern, apart from post-surgical infections, is pain relief."

He lets the information sink in before he adds: "I simply do not have the means to sedate you or give you the pain relief that you are going to need. I wish I could tell you this in any other way, but I can't: It's going to hurt a lot."

You swallow tightly. Joel's thumb passes over the back of your hand.

"Okay," you tell him in a small voice. "I don't have a choice. I'm not going to have a kid in this world. There's no way. We have to do it."

Later, after an extensive talk with the doc, you step out onto the main street of Jackson, Joel right behind you. Without words, the two of you slowly walk towards your house. Not until reaching it, do you sit down on the porch steps. Joel sits down next to you, shoulder to shoulder.

"Are you okay?"

"That's a hard question to answer," you sigh, rubbing your forehead. Joel sighs as well.

"Yeah."

You sit in silence and watch people go by. Ellie passes further away together with a friend, waving hello to you but not coming over to chat. You and Joel wave back.

"What does she know about us?" you ask quietly. Joel grunts.

"She knows we hang out, that I like your company, but I haven’t told her that we… you know.”

"I’m sure she knows. She's a smart girl."

"That she is."

You wet your lips. "Listen, Joel... I just want to say... thank you, I guess. For being there for me."

"Of course," he replies softly. "And I really am sorry for how I reacted."

"I'm sorry for slapping you."

"I deserved it."

"Kind of." You shoot a quick grin at him, and he grins back.

"Don't think about that," you shake your head. "And I want you to know that you don't have to be involved in what comes next."

"I'm not going to - "

"You wouldn't mind having a baby," you cut him off, "so I'm not going to have you watch me take one away."

"It's not a baby yet," he reminds you pragmatically. "And I said we'd figure this out together. I'll be there, every step of the way. I'll make sure you get through this."

He speaks with a quiet, gentle confidence that makes you want to cry again. You never knew how much you have longed for someone like him.

"You don't have an obligation," you try one last time. Joel turns towards you and cups the back of your head with one large hand.

"I want to be obliged to you, sweetheart."

He leans forward to let his lips brush over yours.

"Let me," he whispers, and you wrap your arms around him, accepting both his offer and his kiss.

[rsquared31]

🙌🏼😍

Hiii! Forgive me if you already have this info posted somewhere that I didn't find, but I have been in desperate need of some Comfort Joel Miller... 🥺👉🏻👈🏻 Because real life has been stressful enough and riddled with anxiety 😩 And while I'm ALL about smutty goodness, I could really use some Emotional Hurt/comfort (or physical/protective), depressy/anxy, supportive bby boi shit to read. I'm not sure the best way to go about finding those stories specifically... So I figured I'd ask if you or writers you know have fic recommendations in those categories?? If so, that would be amazing 🖤

Hellooooo. I adore getting fic rec requests. Most of these are gonna have smut in them because I am just a girl (gn), but a few don't. I included some alternative stuff that's a little outside what you asked for, but similar enough.

Disclaimer: I have not read every fic on this list

One shots:

Breathe Through It by @tommysversion

Summary: you have a panic attack. Joel helps.

This is the one I think will be perfect for your request

Illicit Affairs by @schnarfer

Summary:  A little angst-ridden affair with Joel Miller, as a treat?

From the author: "there is a butt load of angst and emotions? He's very supportive (of having an affair with him)"  

Heavy Rain by @lunitawrites

summary: It´s been raining for weeks when Joel finds you curled up on his couch.

recced by @janaispunk !

Walking Through Fire by @macfrog

summary: you’re neck-deep in a bout of seasonal depression. your boyfriend suggests an autumnal walk.

recced by @janaispunk

Observations by @ezrasbirdie

summary: You're not like the other girls, but it'd be easier if you were. Joel Miller doesn't see it that way.

recced by @janaispunk

Series:

One Thing I'm Missing by @joelscruff

you and joel accidentally end up falling asleep together, and what follows is the beginning of a quiet and tender relationship neither of you saw coming

forever is the sweetest con by sistersadeyes (AO3)

Summary: your life, post-apocalypse, and the surly old survivor who darkens your door. Growing up with a doomsday prepper as a father hadn't been easy. But after the Outbreak, you can't help but feel a little grateful to the old man. You're almost sad he didn't make it long enough to see how right he'd been. You inherit the farm, the stockpile, and the bunker months before the Outbreak. And in the aftermath, you use it to prove that human kindness still exists, helping all those you can. Set 5 years after the Outbreak.

I cannot recommend this fic enough dawg

One Day at a Time by @sixhours

Summary: Joel becomes a dad. Again

Lots and lots of emotions, lots of growing together, very sweet, made me cry

A Heart For Eating by @motherofagony

Summary: a vicious raider attack robs you of human connection and lights a fire of destruction in your life in jackson. joel's fixated on you, and your lives tangle. revenge becomes a needful thing.

Mind the warnings, but this one is excellent. Joel's savior complex is nothing to be scoffed at.

WILDCARD -- ever thought about Din and Joel together? Do you like really long series?? I've got the fic for you

Cosmic Oddities by fromthewhales (AO3)

Summary: Turning a clan of two into a clan of four and asking the very important, albeit unhinged question: What if space dad and apocalypse dad were Weird About Each Other?

It's long as hell and it's a weird pairing and it fills my heart with joy. Joel and Din both have some hurt and they both give some comfort. this whole fic just makes me feel soft. It's precious.

Some hurt/comfort one shots but it's Joel that needs comforting:

Father's Day by @proxima-writes

Summary: Father’s Day is hard for Joel Miller after losing his daughter.

Seven by @proxima-writes

Summary: Joel Miller has spent twenty years pushing the grief and guilt surrounding the death of his daughter, Sarah, to the darkest recesses of his brain in favor of survival. Living a more quiet life in Jackson means the ghosts of his past have returned to haunt him. He finds his solace in you, the town librarian.

help me hold on to you by @proxima-writes

Summary: Joel always tries his best to keep his mind from wandering to its darkest corners, but occasionally, the frayed threads holding him together with sloppy stitches start to unravel. Sometimes you need to give him something to hold onto.

[rsquared31]

I don't have much of a following here, but wanted to share this with an audience who might appreciate it. @kenobiwanx is an amazing artist, who also does commissions.

I asked her to create a piece...to let me live out my delulu with my bf Joel Miller 🫠 and I'm so f*ckin obsessed with it! 🥹 She nailed my features and my grumpy sexy tough guy to perfection 😍 (I'm sorry, how cute are we?) 😭 It's exactly what I envisioned and I love it so much 🖤

THANK YOU, GIO! And if anyone is looking for someone to do commission art, of you or your favorite Pedro boy, highly recommend 🥰

[rsquared31]

🥺🥹 This is amazing.

Happy Birthday Babyboy 🖤

happy birthday to pedro pascal 💜

[rsquared31]

🥺🥹🥰 The way I need This Man cannot be accurately explained in words 😩 Thank you @mermaidgirl30 🖤

Congrats on your milestone! 🎉 I've been loving your writing so much, glad I became one of your followers 🥰

📝 I was hoping I could request some Comfort Joel... Normally I'm all about sexy, strong, smutty Joel 🫠 but I've been feeling a bit down and helpless lately, and reading thoughtful, hurt/comfort, reassuring type Joel/reader is so comforting for some reason... 🫣😩 You write him so well! Hopefully you can, no worries if not 🖤

Awee thank you so much and thank you for being here!🩷🩷 Comfort Joel is my favorite! I wrote this on my lunch break, so I hope you like it ☺️

Word count: 432

You sit in a tight ball on the porch, your knees pressed to your chest as you take a deep breath and let another hot tear run down your cheek. Your somber mood almost mixes with the howling wind as it sweeps through the air, the loud noises swishing through your ears as you beg for silence.

Too much, it’s too much.

You jump as a warm, calloused hand clasps down on your bare shoulder, your watery eyes looking up through the fringe of your eyelashes as you see Joel appear like a warm, comforting blanket.

“Hey, what’s wrong? Talk to me,” he says softly as his bright honey eyes demand an answer.

You turn your face away just as he wipes a fresh tear away with the pad of his calloused thumb. “It’s nothing,” you mutter, your voice almost muted from the raging wind.

“You don’t get to do that,” he rasps as he clicks his tongue, “look at me, let me see that pretty face.”

You turn your head slowly back in his direction, your head down so you won’t have to look into those calming eyes.

“Eyes up, darlin’. C’mon now,” he coaxes as he cups your chin softly and pulls your face up to his. You almost gasp at how calm he is, those honeysuckle eyes burning through your vision as he flicks his eyes over your sad features. “Now what’s the matter? What’re you cryin’ for?”

His voice is so calm, gentle. Just like soft waves rolling over the sinking sunset on a sandy beach. You can’t take your eyes off him.

“I just… I’m not enough. Everything's just falling on top of me, and I feel like I’m drowning. It’s too much. I’m not…”

He soothes you over as he hushes you. “Shhh, it’s alright. C’mere, sweetheart.” He picks you up and cradles you in his lap as you wrap your arms tightly around his neck.

Warm. He’s so warm. Your favorite comfort out of anything. It’s him. It’s Joel.

“Hey, hey. Listen to me. You’re doin’ great. You’re more than enough. You don’t always have to carry everything on your shoulders. You’ve got me. I’m right here. So why don’t you just take a load off and relax, I’ve got you. I’ve got you, baby girl.”

He kisses you softly on the forehead as he buries his scruff in your hair. You smell his cologne, his coffee breath, his warm woodsy scent and suddenly everything is quiet, still. You’re alright because you’re with Joel. All your worries seem to subside when you’re in his arms.

[rsquared31]

🙌🏼🧎🏻‍♀️🥵🥰

✨Love and Coffee in the Mornings✨

This was a fun little writing challenge I did for @moonlight-prose and I had so much fun with the prompt “You want me to make you some coffee?” I just wrote this up this morning, so I hope you enjoy! ☕️ Comments and reblogs are always appreciated, always happy to hear your thoughts ☺️

Pairings: Joel x fem! reader

Word Count: 4.3k

Rating: Explicit (18+ Only MDNI)

Tags: Oral, fingering, unprotected p in v, love making, love confessions, outbreak! Joel, soft Joel

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

You awake to specks of light peeking in through the drawn tasseled curtains and a morning dove cooing its soft tune up on the roof. You blink once, twice and rub the sleep from your tired eyes. The room is still, almost a parallel world inside these walls compared to the outside gates of Jackson.

You lay in nothing in the king sized bed, only the tossed up cotton sheets to cover you. That’s not all that covers you though. No. Joel’s massive body crowds your space and his thick arms cage you to him as he drapes them around you and holds you up against his broad chest. His thick fingers are entwined with yours, and you can’t help but feel a wave of intense emotion flow through you from the feel of it all. The feel of him. Joel. Your soft, gentle man that only shows that side of himself to you. Only you.

A smile tugs at your heartstrings and a wet tear rolls down to the pillow from the corner of your eye as you take it all in. He’s yours. Yours, yours, yours. And you belong to him. His, his, his. It’s like a love song that plays through your mind, winding around all your brain cells and making its way down to your beating heart that only beats for him. Just for him, only him.

His slow breaths are relaxed and deep behind you as he sleeps with his head rested in the crook of your neck. You can smell him, taste him as his lips kiss the side of your jawline, the scruff of his beard tickling the inside of your neck, and his tousled curls fall against your cheek, sticking to the sweat that remains from last night.

You remember last night so clearly. It was one of the best nights of your life. Every night with Joel is like that, like a dream you were sucked into, and you just can’t wrap your head around that it’s real. He’s real. Your perfect, brooding man that never goes a day without showing you how much he really loves you.

Love. The first time he ever told you was a week ago while he held you tight in his arms inside the bathtub. You remember, remember like it was just seconds ago. The way he took your hand and turned you around to face him. The way he so gently cupped your chin and stroked his calloused thumb up and down your jawline. The way he looked so intensely into your eyes with those doe eyes that were flecked with spots of sunshine that shine only for you. And the way he called you his ray of sunshine, sending your heart spiraling out of your chest from just the way he was looking at you. His soft gaze said it all. He was in love with you. And the way that the words tumbled from his mouth like it was effortless to him made tears well up in your eyes.

“My ray of sunshine. My beautiful, perfect girl,” he hummed out as he stroked your cheek and pushed back a flyaway hair behind your ear. He paused a second later, his eyes melding into yours like two hearts that beat for each other. And then he said it. He said the words. “I love you,” he whispered down at you, and that’s when the tears fell. Those happy, glistening tears that fell just for him as you said the words back to him. Slow and steady, like how your heart beats for him. Like a sea of galloping horses that run wild together on the shorelines of the ocean, free and happy.

And then there was last night. Your muscles still ached from all the love making, all the different positions he had you twisted in. And how many times did he make you cum? Three, four? You couldn’t remember. That part was a blur as he made you cum over and over again. A fresh wave of slick sticks to your thighs as you squeeze your legs tight as you remember it all.

You remember his head in between your thighs, first. How he worked you nice and slow, building that first orgasm as his rough tongue meticulously lapped circles over your clit, how he tugged and pulled you into his mouth, how his fingers curled up inside you again and again, hitting that sweet spongy spot that made you see stars. Remember the way he thrusted into you time and time again, filling you up with his seed as he rutted his hips into yours over and over again. How your legs were thrown over his shoulders as he crowded your body and showered you with gentle praises and worshipped your body over and over again.

That’s a good girl. Good fuckin’ girl. That’s it, sweetheart. Come on, baby. Look at me, show me how pretty you are when you cum for me, wanna see ya.

God, he was so… perfect. In every way. You just couldn’t get enough of him. Never wanted to get enough.

You hear him stir behind you as a low groan comes from deep within his chest and feel his arms hug you tighter as he slowly opens his eyes to the harsh sunlight. You feel his lips graze your jawline as he leaves gentle kisses all the way up to the shell of your ear which makes your heart skip a beat.

“Mornin’, baby,” he whispers in your ear as another groan leaves his chest as he turns you his way and lets his hands drop down to your waist.

“Morning, handsome,” you say with a huge grin spread taut across your lips. He smiles back at you, and those cute dimples appear on his cheeks, making you blush at the sight. You push his tousled locks back and he groans as your fingers scrape against his skull. A deep groan escapes his mouth, and then he’s pulling your right leg over his thigh, opening you up for him to have access to.

“And how are you feeling this mornin’, sore?” he asks as he slides his hand down your torso, carefully ghosting his hand over your center as you shiver in response.

“Not really,” you gasp out as he slowly runs a finger over your folds, collecting slick on his fingers and spreading it all over your sex. You moan out in response and let him continue, opening your thigh up a little more for him.

“Mmm good. Because I’m hungry, and I know exactly what I want to feast on,” he smirks. “You’re so fuckin’ wet for me already. Fuck,” he growls out as he turns you on your back and slides in between your thighs, slowly lifting your legs over his shoulders as you shutter in response. Touch me, taste me, you want to scream out. But he knows. He knows that’s what you want.

He slowly trails kisses up your thighs as he gets you all worked up. Slowly teasing and making you drip more for him as his thick beard tickles in between your thighs, as his large hands splay across your hips. He gets right to your center and stops just for a second to admire your glistening cunt.

“God, you’re so fuckin’ pretty, baby,” he gawks as his eyes turn an amber color, his love swirling all around the flecks of his irises for you, and it makes your heart nearly stop at the sight.

“Yeah? You like what you see?” you ask with a shaky breath.

“Mhm, fuckin’ love it.” He takes his calloused thumb and spreads you apart, slowly caressing all the most sensitive spots of you. He gets up to your clit and circles and circles, eliciting a moan out of you.

“Fuck,” you whimper out, your hands grabbing the sheets as you bunch them around your fingers.

“You want more?” he asks in a husky breath, his broad shoulders flexing with every movement he makes.

“Mhm, please,” you beg, writhing underneath his touch.

He chuckles under his breath, and his eyes turn darker, more carnal as he stares up at you in between your open legs. He pulls you down further in the bed and gently blows down on your center, making your hips buck up in response. He pushes them back down and lowers his head to your pulsing center. His eyes never leave yours, they stay focused intently on you, just like a hawk watching its prey. And then he licks a long stripe from your dripping hole, all the way up your folds as his pupils expand into black pits. The image has you shuttering under his touch.

“Eyes on me now. That’s it. Just like that,” he commands as he drops back down on your cunt. He spreads your folds with his tongue, eagerly soaking each fold with the base of his tongue, slowly making his way to your aching clit. And when he finds it, he attacks. He circles and circles it with a steady pace, gently pulling it in his mouth and sucking, making your moans echo around the room as he works you up, builds that growing orgasm as you feel it already setting it. It’s right there in the base of your spine, the pressure building in the pit of your stomach. He’s so fucking good at this, at eating you out. You never last long. He’s just that good. The artist that can make love to you with only his tongue, and it feels so good.

He pushes two fingers inside your dripping hole and slowly works them up and down, up and down, curling till he meets that sweet spot that has you sending more slick over his fingers. His tongue doesn’t stop. He keeps working at your throbbing bundle of nerves, keeps sucking and nipping and licking until you’re a puddle underneath him. His beard is glistening with your wetness, and it’s probably the hottest thing you’ve ever seen in your life.

“Joellll, feels so good. I’m so close… I’m almost there-I..” your voice breaks off as he takes you into his mouth again, slowly sucking on that spot that does it for you. You squeeze against his fingers inside you, your walls fluttering as you’re about to shatter. Almost there, almost. You tangle your fingers into his tousled curls, and he groans at the sensation.

“Come on, give it to me. Let me see you cum, baby. Remember, eyes on me. Wanna see those pretty eyes focused on me when I make you cum,” he growls as he pushes up inside you more, licks up and down until he’s pulling you into his mouth again. You feel the cap break inside you, feel the hot sensation taking over as you start to lose it, start to fall apart in your intense orgasm.

“Joel, I… I’m…” you can’t finish your sentence, too fucked out at the moment.

“Let me have it, pretty girl. Give me all you got,” he growls as he sucks you into his hot mouth again. And then it’s over. You’re cumming, hard.

You moan out his name and squeeze your legs around him as your eyesight goes blurry, but you focus on him, never leaving his blown out pupils as he stares up at you like a starving wolf that wants to feast on you. You let yourself go, let your walls clench up before you release white, hot liquid all over his fingers, all over his mouth.

“That’s a good fuckin’ girl,” he praises as he groans out, licking up all your spent liquid as he slowly works his fingers inside you, curling them until he has every ounce of cum that you can give him right now. You breathe out breathy moans as he licks at your now sensitive area, cleaning you up carefully as he devours you, tastes you over and over again. And you can never get enough of this. Of him, his fingers, his tongue, his soft praises. He’s too good, too good.

When he’s finished, he crawls out between your legs and joins you at the head of the bed, wrapping his arms around your waist as he presses a gentle kiss to your forehead. “Did so good for me, baby. So good,” he praises as he traces your bottom lip with his calloused thumb and presses his lips against yours slowly, delicately, like a rose petal just blossomed at the first sight of spring. He’s so gentle, so loving, so perfect.

When he pulls apart, he traces your jawline as his eyes turn to that warm honey color you love. “You want me to make you some coffee?” he asks with a gentle curve of a smile that envelops his mouth.

“I’d love some,” you respond as you beam up at him with a deep blush on your face.

“Okay, I’ll go make you some then,” he says as he pulls away, slowly sliding off the bed.

“Joel, wait,” you say urgently as your hand shoots out to grab his wrist, preventing him from going any further out of the room.

He looks back at you with his dark eyebrow raised, questions lingering in those honeyed eyes of his. God, he looks so good standing there in nothing but a pair of black briefs that hug him close as you see the outline of his hard cock planted against them. His broad chest expands as his breathing is still rapid, his large veins cascading down his thick arms as his tousled locks stick up everywhere, like he’d just had morning sex, which he did. Mornings with him were your favorite thing in the entire world, he was your favorite.

“What is it?” he asks as he stands still, eyes meeting yours in question.

“I need something else from you. You need something from me,” you say shallowly as your eyes trail down to his hard erection under the thin material of his briefs.

“You want me to fuck you?” he asks as his eyes turn a darker shade of molasses, a color you want to drink up, let him devour you with his sweetness.

“Fuck me,” you whisper as you bite your lower lip and spread your legs for him as you show him just how wet you are again. His eyes trail down your body and end at your center as he breathes in and lets out a deep sigh, his hand dragging through his coarse scruff on his face slowly.

“Goddamn,” he groans at the sight of you. He doesn’t waste a second. He drops his briefs to the floor and climbs in between your legs, pushing them apart as he stares in wonder at your glistening sex.

You lean forward and wrap your hand around his thick cock, tracing the lines of his large vein that runs under his glistening head, all the way down his large length. The tip of him is swollen and red, and precum leaks from his slit as you work it up and down him, hearing the wet noises you make as you fist him with your palm, enjoying seeing his eyes cloud over in a fog the more you touch him.

“Fuck, sweetheart. Feels so good,” he groans as you lightly circle his tip, finding all the sensitive spots as more precum gathers over the swollen tip of him. Before you can continue working your hand over him, he pushes you down on the pillow and wraps your legs around his back as he pushes the head of his cock to your opening, barely thrusting inside before he speaks again.

“Hold on tight, love. Gonna make you feel so good,” he groans as he pushes his way inside you, stretching you to the max as he pushes deeper and deeper, until he’s bottoming out and hitting the back of your walls.

“Fuck,” you moan out as he starts to move at a steady pace. In and out, up and down as you hear the wetness of each other as he slams back into you over and over again.

His lips come down and nip at your collarbone as his hands knead over your breasts, making your nipples pebble underneath him as he rolls them under his calloused thumbs. He speeds up his tempo, angling your hips higher as he hits your spongy area time and time again, making your eyes glass over at the intense bliss you’re experiencing.

“Squeezin’ me so tight, baby. Feels so good. You’re so close, so fuckin’ close. Come on and give it to me. Show me how pretty you can cum on this cock,” he growls as he presses down on your throbbing clit, circling you until you’re screaming out his name and breathing ragged moans into his ear.

“Good girl. Come on, baby. Wanna feel it,” he groans as he thrusts into you deeper, circling your clit in the exact spot you need him to. You rake your fingers down his back and moan out as your legs squeeze the back of him. One more circle of your clit, and you’re done for. You clench up around his thick cock and release all your pent up white hot liquid on him and feel your eyes roll back at the blissful, fucked out feeling. Your body feels electric as you hear white noise spread through your ringing ears and take a minute to come back to reality. Back to your body after that blissed out high.

“That’s a good fuckin’ girl. So good,” he groans as he thrusts faster into you, his breathing hitching as his jaw flexes and his hands clamp up around your hips. “Gonna-fuckin’…cum. Ah, fuck,” he moans as he snaps his hips once more into you and releases his seed all over you, filling you up as his jaw goes slack and his eyes roll back. His breathing is heavy and ragged, slowly coming back to himself as he pulls slowly out of you, dragging his spend with him down your thighs.

He collapses next to you, and both of you just breathe as you catch your breath for the next few minutes. “That was incredible,” you gasp out as you fold into his arms, your heart rate going a thousand miles at the moment.

“Mmm, yes. Always is with you,” he groans out, a thick southern accent spilling out of him. And you love it, love his accent, love him.

After a few minutes of snuggling together, he gets up and grabs a towel from the bathroom. When he comes back, he gently cleans you off, careful not to overstimulate your sensitive areas. “There ya go, all cleaned up,” he rasps as he throws the towel on the floor next to his ruined briefs. “Now, how’s about that coffee?” he asks with a smirk as his caramel eyes dance across your body that’s wrapped up in the sheets.

“I could go for a sweet cup of coffee,” you say as you push yourself up to a sitting position, your head still swimming from the thick cloud of arousal.

Joel comes over to put a strong hand on your shoulder and lays you back down, tucking you into the sheets as his hand caresses the back of your head. “No, you stay right here. I’ll bring the coffee up to you. You just relax. I’ll start a hot bath for you when I get back,” he says gently as he pulls on a clean pair of briefs and runs his hand through his tousled curls.

God, he’s pretty.

“Oh, uhh okay,” you reply in a whisper as you’re awestruck at how gentle and loving he’s being towards you. It took a long time to get to this point, but you made it. Now he was your soft, sweet man. Always at your attention when you needed him. And you loved him. God, you loved him. So much, so very much.

“I’ll be back up in a few minutes,” he says as he turns toward the door as the hardwood floor creaks underneath his footsteps.

“Joel?” you call out, stopping him before he can make it through the wooden door.

“Hmm?” he hums as he turns back to you, brown eyes intent on you.

“I love you,” you whisper out, enough for him to hear you through the fog of tension that wraps around the room.

His face softens and a smile splays across his face, his honey eyes shining on you like they never had before. It’s absolutely beautiful how smitten he looks at you, how in love he looks. For you had opened him up, shown him what love really looked like. And when he fell for you, he fell hard. No more rough cut edges, for he was soft now. Loving, caring, beaming for you and only you. And it was the most beautiful thing you ever saw in your entire life.

“I love you, too,” he whispers back as the trace of a teardrop forms over the film of his eyes. And then there’s nothing left in the room except pure love for one another, a cloud so thick and dense that there’s no getting past it. He was yours and you were his. Clear as day. No questions about it. “Be right back, baby,” he says as he exits the room and softly closes the door.

You lean back into the cotton sheets and bury your head against the pillow as you close your eyes, envision yourself in a field full of vibrant flowers with Joel by your side, rolling around in a bed full of roses as you lose yourself in each other. And it brings you peace, fills you with a deep satisfaction. He’s yours as much as you are his. Two souls forming into one, colliding together and ignoring everything else but each other. Your peace, your comfort, your ecstasy. It was Joel, it was always Joel.

A few minutes later, he brings you a steaming cup of coffee. You see it’s drizzled with caramel and French vanilla creamer, and it looks absolutely perfect. “Well, go on and try it. Tell me how you like it,” he says as he sits on the edge of the bed and hands you the cup, slowly sliding his hand up and down your thigh as he waits for you to taste the hot liquid.

You take the cup from him and blow on it, slowly taking a sip of the hot coffee as it encases your taste buds. Drops of caramel and French vanilla slide down your throat, along with the taste of the strong coffee that follows it. It’s warm, heavenly, the perfect cup of coffee you’d ever tasted.

You turn to him and smile, looking up at those honey eyes that sink into yours. “It’s absolutely perfect,” you say as you take another sip and set it on the forest green nightstand that sits next to the bed.

“Glad ya like it,” he smiles as you wrap your arms around his neck and drag him back down to the bed with you, his left arm catching your waist and his right hand gently caressing the back of your neck. He brings you to his lips and crashes them against yours as you feel his warm breath against yours. You part your lips and invite him in as his tongue glides in and finds yours, letting the coffee taste pool all over your mouth as he devours you nice and slow, just how you always like it.

When he pulls back, his calloused fingers hover over your jawline, slowly moving to cup your chin as his thumb dances over your lower lip softly. He looks at you with endearing, loving honey eyes, and you can’t shake the feeling of how completely in love you are with him. Mine, mine, mine, you scream in your head. Mine.

“I love you so much, my little ray of sunshine,” he breathes out against your neck, his eyes telling you everything you need to know.

“And I love you, so much,” you whisper out as you drag your lips across his soft plush lips.

“You wanna go take a bath with me?” he asks as he smiles down at you, his eyes lost in a daze before you.

“There’s nothing more I’d want to do,” you answer as you leave a trail of kisses down his cheek, ending at his lips as he pulls you in again, feeding all your desire for the man of your dreams that lays next to you as he consumes you in full.

“Joel?” you ask as he rolls on his back, laying you on his chest as he hums out and looks up at you with those big brown eyes that you so dearly love.

“What is it, baby?”

“Thank you for showing me what a home looked like again. Thank you for loving me, for never giving up on me,” you choke out as you tear up and smile down at him as you lay against his broad chest.

“Oh, baby. No. Thank you for never giving up on me. I know I wasn’t always easy to deal with. I wasn’t always kind, especially when I first met you. But you evened me out, showed me what real love looks like. And I can’t thank you enough. I just… I just love you, so fuckin’ much. I love you, I love you,” he cries as he cups the back of your head and pulls you down to his level, planting his lips against yours as you fall back into him time and time again.

This is where you belong, where you always want to be. It’s with Joel, it’ll always be with Joel. Your best friend, your saviour, the love of your life. And you’ll never get enough of him. Never, ever. Your forever coffee date, your forever lover, yours.

[rsquared31]

Since we both want all things Protective Joel Miller... How about another one with ❛ You’re lucky you got away with only a scratch. ❜ ... 🫠

if I could have I would order a 150k slowburn overprotective Joel fic 🥹

Pairing: Joel Miller x fem. reader

Warnings: injuries, Joel being Joel

"You’re lucky you got away with only a scratch," he continued to check your body for any further injuries, his face a mix of concern and supressed anger.

He had whirled into the Hospital like a hurricane while you wondered how he found out in the first place, demanding to see you, Tommy behind him giving you a sorry expression as he left you to deal with your man, missing the glare you gave his quickly retreating back.

"He didn't mean anything by it, he's just.... he wanted to help and just took my words literally," you shrugged, grabbing Joel's hands to squeeze them in hopes it would calm him down.

"He threw a hammer after you baby, a hammer," he stressed, "he could have..." he stopped himself, jaw twitching as he took a deep, calming breath and you fought against the smile that wanted to sneak to your face just before he sighed and hung his head, his forehead resting against yours.

"Gonna work on all construction with you from now on to make sure you won't get run over by a fucking wheelbarrow next," he grunted before he kissed you softly.

[rsquared31]

Hiii! Fic sentence request...

I don't know why but ❛ You look like you've got something to say. ❜ jumped out at me, as something that would be said by or to a sassy, sexy, angy Joel Miller... 🫠😘🖤

I want to write all the things with Joel Miller. It's becoming a problem 🙃

Pairing: Joel Miller x fem. reader

Warnings: jealousy, a bit of possessive Joel (and reader)

"You look like you've got something to say," he didn't really look up at you, still sitting on his porch, his guitar in his lap as he played some tunes.

Sucking your bottom lip in nervously you took the last couple of steps up to his porch, walking over to him until you were standing in front of him.

He looked up at you then, putting his guitar down, raising one eyebrow in interest.

"I'm... I'm sorry. I saw you talking with Esther and she had her hands all over you and I got.... I didn't want her touching you because... because...." fuck you sucked at this.

"Because I'm yours," he said and you nodded slowly, talking a small step closer as Joel made space for you between his legs, his hands coming to rest on your thighs.

"And you're mine," he said, his voice deep, demanding, leaving no room for any argument, not that you had any, making you nod immediately, all air leaving your lungs when he had you in his lap the next moment, his hands on the back of your neck pulling you closer until he could kiss you hard.

Want to have your own mini fic? Follow this link