#Baby miller tlou

[steeb-stn]

Ellie and baby miller (whos a teenager at this point, but to Ellie will always be the Baby) getting attacked while out beyond the gates. Baby getting bit

and ellie takes their face in her hands and kisses their forehead and says. Im gonna take care of you. Dont you worry. Sit down next to me and hold my hand, and we will make up stories about outer space like we did when you were little. Its gonna be okay, dont be scared. Im right here.

and ellies prepared to do what she has to do, shes even prepared to go back to tommy and maria and look them in the eyes and tell them she killed their child, but after that? After that shes not so sure shes prepared to keep breathing

(This got very sappy and also dark) BUT THEN.

But then baby miller doesnt get sick. Two days, three days, a week, and she doesnt turn. The bite becomes an gnarly scar on her leg

Because ellies been slowly inoculating her family and her town over the years, exhaling spores that dont make them sick but give them immunity against cordyceps

ellie saving the people she loves, saving the world, just by being alive

[gutsby]

Make It Stick

Pairing: Old!Joel x Reader

Summary: Joel never thought he’d need a vasectomy. Then, one night, he accidentally finishes inside you.

Warnings: 18+. Unprotected-peepaw-p-in-v (I’m sorry). Accidental creampie. Age gap. Cumplay. Breeding kink. Ovulation has led me places I wouldn’t go with a gun.

Note: Convergence is a painting by Jackson Pollock. We studied it in high school and I thought it looked like jizz idk

Word count: 4.7k

He should’ve gotten snipped when he had the chance.

Should’ve taken the plunge, faced his fears of needles and fluorescent-washed doctor’s offices like any man his age could have done and gotten the damn vasectomy. Now he was here, nearly two decades older and still none the wiser in this cold, dead world with a pretty young thing like you between his sheets. In lieu of elective surgery, Joel Miller had only to grit his teeth, bite hard, and repeat over and over again in his head, desperate:

‘Don’t cum, don’t cum, don’t cum, don’t cum, DON’T—’

Words like those normally worked. With women that weren’t you, they tended to serve him exceedingly well.

But you were just so tight. And wet. And welcoming. And try as Joel might to pretend like he got laid on a regular basis, the truth was that he didn’t. Wouldn’t. Couldn’t seem to think straight when it came to this fixation he’d developed for you, so, instead, he let his dick do all the decision-making whenever he found himself around you. Ten times out of ten that ended in:

“J-J-Joel—oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck—I’m gonna CUM.”

And that made it worth every last life-endangering drop.

Feeling how your flushed, lithe body came apart beneath his touch. How you needed him. How your eyes grew to half the size of your face and you gaped up at the man, lips parted, like you couldn’t even comprehend how the friction of seven inches could make you feel so good.

If he had it his way, he would’ve loved nothing more than to show you that feeling every night, and twice the next morning if his hip wasn’t giving him too much trouble.

But, at present, the man had bigger fish to fry. Like not becoming a new father at fifty-nine if he could help it.

With the last two fluttering pulses of your heat, and almost going cross-eyed from the pleasure as he felt it, Joel yanked his big, slippery cock out of your body and made a fist around his member as he always knew to do. Tugged and pulled and grunted above you—‘Sweet girl, you’re so fuckin’ good to me’—and watched your tits and your belly for the milky white ropes to ensue.

Strangely, though, your skin stayed the same.

No cum-spray Convergence appeared before him, no opaque and cloudy fluids dribbling down your ribs, nothing. Your stomach was as bare as the rest of you, save for a few beads of sweat, and that was all there was.

Joel shook his dick harder, confused. Beneath him, you were still coming down from your high smiling ear-to-ear and staring blissfully at the ceiling. Your chest rose and fell, rose and fell in quick succession, and while you endeavored to recollect your mind, Joel was losing his.

Where the FUCK was his cum?

In no naked horizontal tango to date had Joel simply…cum without noticing. Shit like that just didn’t happen to men, least of all to ones his age, so when he’d wrung his poor cock like a sodden towel and still saw nothing come out, he felt his stomach turn and plummet inside him.

He dropped to his hands and knees in less than a moment and lowered his head between your legs.

“No, Joel!” you squealed, giggling. Kicking your feet, “Another round and I’m gonna combust, you old perv!”

But Joel wasn’t looking to get his dick wet again. He was inspecting you. Or trying to, anyway. Quickly realizing he couldn’t see a thing in the darkness, he let out a breath through his nose and lifted you off the bed. Your naked frame thrown over his shoulder, bare hip beside his head and your strangled, muffled cry of, ‘What the hell, Joel?!’ hardly seemed to register with the man carrying you off.

You were toted to the bathroom. Joel was about to ease you down on your feet. Then, appearing to change his mind at the last second, he set you onto the sink instead. Your skin bristled with indignation, anger. A little arousal.

“Last time we did it on a sink we broke the faucet,” you reminded him, feigning more dismay than you really felt inside. If anything, you liked it when your fossil-age fuckbuddy switched things up. You were just exhausted.

Heedless of your words, Joel kneeled on the floor and pried your legs apart before him. When you swatted at his silver-flecked head, he brushed your hand away.

“Hold still,” he grunted.

“How come?”

“‘Cause I said.”

How quickly he commanded that tone of a father.

“Wanna sleep,” you groaned, about to roll your eyes.

But you couldn’t deny you liked being doted on by him.

Joel’s touch was gentle. Probing. Spidering down the most sensitive parts of your bare lower half, between your thighs, and slowly coaxing you closer to the edge of the sink. Your breath hitched when you saw his head tilt.

He appeared to be deep in thought—a rare sight for anyone who’d seen Joel Miller in the postcoital state. Most every time he’d blown his load before, the man was dead asleep within ten minutes. His joints could barely hold himself upright after a half hour of plowing the back forty, much less carry you, too, so you were puzzled now.

He thumbed at the seam of your cunt, and you whined:

“Jo-el—”

“Can ya…push, baby?” His eyes flitted up quickly.

“Push?”

“Yeah, just…” With a look you couldn’t quite read, he placed the palm of his other hand on your belly. Then, pressing, “Like this. Like you’re squeezin’ somethin’ out.”

You cocked a brow in muted confusion but did as he asked. You watched his gaze, and it stayed on you.

Or, rather, on that soft and pliant spot between your legs the old man seemed to favor so much. On any other occasion, in a position like this, he surely would’ve been wearing a smile. Tonight, his lips curled into a grimace.

And twisted even further when you ‘pushed’ like you did.

At first you felt nothing. A gentle clench of your walls supplied little more than a sense of having been stretched—no novel concept to you, who’d spent the last three-and-a-half months or so getting fucked by the finest AARP affiliate alive most every night. It wasn’t until you clamped down again that you got the feeling there was something else. Something thick and warm and slow as molasses trickling out from between your folds.

You let out a low, tender, ‘Mmph’ without meaning to; it felt kind of nice. Beneath you, Joel’s face turned grave.

He watched as his spend oozed out of your freshly-fucked hole and thought of vasectomies again.

You were young—too young to know better. Too sweet and naïve to see any peril in spreading your legs for a man like him, in a world like this. And Joel swore he’d be careful. But no post-apocalyptic birth control method was perfect, or even close to it, and it was clear he’d relied too heavily on reflexes to keep him from cumming inside you. Joel was old—too old to be doing this shit.

Too grown and well-versed in sex to be making mistakes as stupid as that. His brow pinched in, and he drew his next breath as if the air around him was growing scarce.

“Joel, what’s—”

“When’s the last time you— you— uh…bled?”

Hardly more in control of his face than the rate his heart went thudding in his chest, Joel winced at the end. This time, you were the one to knit your eyebrows together. You could tell by that tight, discomfited tone he wasn’t talking papercuts, but were still unsure of his purpose.

“Like two, two and a half weeks ago. Why?”

Well, fuck.

Joel buried his face in his hands. You scooted closer to the sink’s edge, thinking little of his cum leaking out.

“Why?” you tried again. Softer this time.

An old, weathered head lifted to greet you. It was bleak.

“You see this?” Joel paused. Swiping his finger through the viscous white substance that had trickled out on the counter, in a puddle now, “Y’know what it means, right?”

You let his look, and the question, remain suspended in air for a second. Then another. Then you shrugged.

“Yeah. But…you’re old,” came your answer at length.

You’re old.

Joel and you both knew as much, but the former wasn’t quite following your train of thought. Still wanting to try and mitigate damages while he could, though, Joel reached for the roll of toilet paper that was fastened to the wall and tore himself a strip. He bunched it up and, reaching for one of your knees to spread you further for him, took to daubing the tissue across your entrance.

“What’s me bein’ old got to do with anything?” A little sharp, then, seeing you flinch when he drew too close to your clit, “‘m sorry, baby, just— gotta get this out of you.”

You made a face but let him continue anyway. Your eyes followed each movement of his hand, and reflexively, the muscles in your thighs tightened. Why bother with this when the man has so many better uses for his hands?

For a second, your eyes fluttered half-shut.

“Maria says old folks are, uh…infertile. Got something to do with a middle pause,” you said, breaths labored.

Joel stopped just long enough to shoot you a look.

“Menopause,” he corrected, all too matter-of-fact, before returning to his work, “is a woman thing.”

What the hell were they teaching in Jackson’s sex ed classes, anyway? Then Joel remembered how his brother sincerely believed that women peed out of their vaginas until he was twenty-three, and the thought of you not knowing the ins and outs of male virility wasn’t the most far-fetched idea in the universe. Besides, sexual health wasn’t exactly the community’s highest priority when the world around it was in a perpetual state of decay and hordes of fungus-faced fuckers ran rampant in the wild.

He curved a tender, careful finger against the ring of muscles framing your sex, trying to absorb more cum, and your grip on the edge of the countertop tightened.

“S-So, you—” You swallowed, throat constricting a little too, “You’re sayin’…men can make babies…whenever?”

You sounded so innocent as you said it. Joel wanted nothing more than to club himself over the head for being the cause of this predicament—of being such an instrumental part of the perceived corruption, as it was.

Meanwhile, your head was swimming in filthier thoughts.

Deeper, Joel, keep…pushing in…dee-e-per. You would have scarcely had more luck giving a fuck what Joel was talking about now than if he’d just said the room was on fire. By his voice, you knew you should’ve been paying attention, but the dexterity of his fingers was too much. He was caressing the first couple inches of your inner walls, attempting to scrape what bits of his release he could get unstuck from the flesh, but it seemed he was succeeding mostly in just turning you on. Rendering you deaf to the drone of his words as you pictured him pushing something else inside your tight, throbbing—

“—whole lotta problems for us if you’re, uh…ovulating,” Joel finished, expression taut and oblivious. You hadn’t heard the first part of that sentence and didn’t care to.

“Ovulating,” you repeated slowly. Indifferent.

Joel carried on without a hitch.

“Kids just ain’t fit for this world. I know you know that.”

You nodded along, not hearing a word.

“And if you’re— if y’ever did consider, maybe…”

Your lungs took an extra sharp inhale when Joel’s fingers coaxed out a warm, sticky glob of his load, and he petted your folds with his thumb. Then let out a breath himself.

“…y’oughta start a family with someone your own age—”

That part snagged your attention. Too swiftly, it came:

“My own age?”

Sighing, in spite of those welts of pleasure so heightened by his touch that the space between your legs began to throb and ache. Hardly possessed of more sense to form words that weren’t just echoes of his own, you tried communication from a simpler source—your foot.

You nudged his shoulder, and Joel looked up.

“What?”

“What?”

Parroting was, evidently, a hard habit to kill. Your toes curled into the bare skin of Joel’s shoulder, and when he re-inserted his finger, you ground your heel even deeper.

“When’s that ev…ever stopped us from doing it before, hm?” you said, tone strained but laced with some humor too, “Thought you liked sayin’ you’d make me a mama.”

Joel’s face flooded pink at the recollection—as a matter of fact, there had been several such memories. Instead of answering immediately, he just averted his gaze again. He anchored one hand to your thigh, and with the other teased out another string of your shared arousal before wiping his finger on the tissue, clinically, and repeating. All he had to offer in reply after was: ‘That’s different.’

And it was, to some extent. Joel wasn’t blind to the sea of uneasy looks that trailed behind you both whenever you walked the streets of Jackson together. How wide the eyes would get when instead of observing some filial display of affection play out before them, as expected, you’d loop your arms around his waist and take his lip between your teeth as you kissed—‘Can we please go home now, baby?’—that Joel was certain he’d been cemented as the resident pervert among everyone in town. Just how much worse that reputation was liable to get if there ever happened to be a round and swollen belly between that embrace someday was unthinkable. Dirty talk was one thing; parenthood another entirely.

This is for the best, became the low, grating refrain in his skull. Why he dug so hard, pushed so far inside the wet, velvety interior of your body without a thought for his own desires in that moment; he had to cull every trace of himself out of there, before he had half a chance to think.

“Baby, hey, hey, no—” Joel cut in a second later, abrupt.

No, no, no. You weren’t thinking either. Wrapping your hand around his wrist, pushing his fingers deeper inside.

Smiling a little, too.

“What are you— no, honey, don’t— you can’t,” Joel’s words splintered in every direction, watching you plunge his own index and middle fingers into the slick and the warmth he’d just been trying to get his cum out of. He looked up and saw your lids were heavy, about to close.

“What are you doin’? This ain’t…no, baby, it ain’t…safe.”

Back to sounding like a dad in no time at all.

“What’s wrong with leaving it in a bit longer? Feels nice.”

You had no idea what you were talking about. Joel pulled back on his hand and, in less than a second, had it freed.

“I just told you,” he huffed, “You’re too young—”

“I’m plenty old, Joel,” you returned, eyes snapping open, “You’ve shown me that more times than I can count.”

Joel was silent, stunned. He rose to his feet as your eyes seared holes into his, and for a second, he was uncertain whether to take a step back or reach out for you again.

“Baby…”

To his surprise, something like hurt surfaced behind your eyes. You set your lips in a tighter line, and your grip on the counter grew firmer just the same. He would’ve taken that move as his cue to lean in gently, slot his body between your thighs, and venture an apology of some sort, when the next thing you did stopped him cold.

Without a word, you slipped your free hand between your legs—eyeing Joel closely, almost scornfully, as you did.

You took your middle and ring fingers and sank them into your cunt. Not intending to let a drop of his spend leak out, you wedged them in as far as they’d go. Joel watched. Gawked. Once sufficiently pleased with the look of shock taking over his handsome, aged features, you withdrew the fingers. You brought them up to your mouth, wrapped your lips around the tips, and sucked.

It was a rare thing to get a taste of you and Joel together like this, so you savored it. You moved your mouth further down to drink it all in, peering up with wide, indulgent eyes and a look that was meant to punish.

Feels nice.

Tastes alright, too.

You’d licked the last bit of this glaze off your hand when your stomach clenched. You knew it would happen. Full as you were, you feared your body still hungered for more. As such, it hardly came as a surprise when next your muscles tensed, and you shifted closer to Joel.

“Maybe I don’t want babies with someone my own age.”

Either one of your knees were nudging his hips. Drawing him in. Joel appeared to waver for a second, unsure, but the look on his face made it clear this was mostly a matter of a delayed reaction. He couldn’t get his legs to move because the rest of him was still in awe. Staring at your lips, where the residue of his spend was glistening, then to your eyes, which were no less inviting, then up to the crown of your head and over it, to fix his stare on the mirror behind it. You watched him watch his own reflection with a look that was both hard and unkind, breathing slow. When he didn’t stir from that position after a minute, you touched a hand to his lower stomach.

And, brushing the heel of your palm against what felt like a hundred grey hairs in the old man’s happy trail—your favorite ones—you smoothed a caress along his belly, back and forth, before moving it left. Your hand came to rest on a mound of muscle and fat sitting right above his hip. Love handles, Joel had remarked one morning with vague distaste. Love handles, you’d repeated, beaming. You held on tightly now, appreciatively, and used your well-loved wall of flesh to pull him closer. As with any beckoning of yours, Joel didn’t have so much as half a mind to resist. He did, however, refuse to meet your gaze while you tilted your hips and spread your legs wider, before winding your ankles around the backs of his legs.

“Don’t you think I’d look pretty?” You pouted up at him. Your folds made a light, warm suction rubbing along the front of Joel’s cock—of course he’d grown hard again, and you could hold him, point him down to that wet embrace awaiting him patiently at the edge of the sink.

Joel cursed under his breath.

“‘Course I do…” he said, voice hoarse, “Y’always look—”

“I mean…with your baby inside me, Joel. Right here.”

As if to put a finer point on your words, you nestled the head of his cock inside the first inch of your body. Joel had to seize the laminate underneath you and grit his teeth to keep from letting out a groan too loud. That tip may as well have been a first-rate conductor of heat, and your warmth the thing that might send him spilling again

“You don’t—” Joel choked out, nearly incensed, “—don’t know what the hell you’re sayin’, baby. What that means.”

In truth, there wasn’t a world Joel Miller could imagine where a girl like you could give more than a passing thought to getting knocked up by him—a man his age. What good would it do? You had your whole life laid out before you like a four-course dinner spread; there was no sense whatsoever in letting the meal go to waste on him.

He communicated as much by moving to pull out.

You met the effort with a push of your own, sinking down another inch or two on his shaft and smiling when you saw his eyes roll back in his head at the dizzying friction.

“I know more than enough, old man—” Grin stretching ear-to-ear as you dug your heels in his ass and tugged him deeper, “—who do you think taught me all this?”

Of course, it had been Joel.

Always, always him—the only one, in fact.

Your walls drew him in like a hug. For once, Joel conjured up the strength to take a look between your lower half and his, and when he did, the next moan was inevitable. It trickled through his lips. Your body looked sublime swallowing a third of his cock, and it was almost as though a maggot had crawled into his brain, chanting:

‘Make her full. Make her yours. Tell any man who’d even think of looking her way she belongs to someone else.’

He couldn’t.

Joel would never be so selfish. Just think of her youth.

But when his gaze drifted back to yours, every thought and any word besides seemed gently to melt away. Beneath him, your eyes were two pools of desire.

“You like this…don’t you, Joel?” Your voice was tiny.

“I do.”

In fact, he loved it.

“Then why can’t we?” Why shouldn’t we?

Minuscule now, the words that reached him barely exceeded a whisper. It was as though the moment itself had drained all fear from your face—and out of Joel, all common sense from his brain—leaving you both to stare at the other with shared, stupid, anoetic looks of bliss. The man who had you beat by thirty-odd years seemed nearly of the same mind, with almost identical ignorance.

Idiocy.

“Just once?” Joel croaked.

Somewhere underneath, unseen, you smiled.

“Just one?” you murmured back.

He sank in another inch. When your walls contracted around him, Joel’s hands found your hips by force of habit and pushed your back against the glass behind it. The mirror was cool, and inside you, Joel was throbbing.

“Once,” he repeated, not thinking too deeply.

“One,” you said, with a world of more purpose.

Joel relinquished the last three inches, and with it, all of his resolve. The handsome, scarred, and plainly greying features all twisted as one, and the expression that you knew too well to mean that the man was feeling good took on the slightest hint of guilt. He gripped you tighter.

“One?” Joel panted. Confused.

He pulled out halfway just to find his home again. Your pearly slick mixed together with his spend, and both coated over Joel’s shaft in a pretty, generous sheen.

“One more of you, I mean.” You sounded too sweet. There was no way in hell you’d actually meant it.

Joel’s cheeks flushed again, but he didn’t stop, either.

“Baby…” he trailed off instead. He pushed in, pulled out, felt your tender little hole make an ‘o’ around his shaft, and then he kissed the edge of your left cheek—maybe to rein in the need in his words before he spoke again: “One’a me takes and I’m givin’ ya fifteen more, y’hear?”

The smile he received told him as much as he needed to hear. He probably wouldn’t have believed it even if you’d said the words yourself. Joel’s thrusts sped up, and as the pleasure distended in the pit of his stomach with the friction and the feel, his words flowed a little more freely.

In disbelief, “Wanna be a mama that bad for me, huh?”

Your grin grew bigger. You nodded your head.

“Make your old man a daddy, is that it?”

Exactly. Senseless as it was, your look said it all.

To have slipped between the grooves and ridges of Joel’s brain and caught wind of even a fraction of the things he wanted to do to you then, a smarter girl would have run. Would have shoved him back out as swiftly as she’d let him in and told him no, that’s gross, and gone home. And, had the grey matter floating inside your own skull not been so completely dominated by primal need and wanting, that’s likely what you would have done, too. Instead, with a head full of lewd, youthful stupidity, you seized the black-grey curls dangling at the nape of his neck and drew him closer. You spread your legs wider.

“That is what you’ve wanted this whole time, right?”

Under his scruff, a muscle tensed as Joel bit down.

That’s all he’s ever wanted.

Let the neighbors talk.

Let them say what they wanted to say—it was probably all true to the point they were trying to make, anyway. That Joel was a pervert, of course. That you were naïve, also true. That you would look too good not to stare in a white cotton frock with a bump underneath, absolutely. These were the ideas permeating your brain and his while Joel took a firmer hold of your sides and brought his nose to rest against yours. With every stab of his hips, he pressed kisses to your soft, parted lips, speaking low:

“That what you want, too, darlin’?” More serious now.

The head of his cock nicked a sensitive ridge inside you, eliciting a whimper, but you nodded. You nodded again, feeling the brush of his stubble at your mouth and your chin, and nodded again when he bottomed out, stuffing you tight. It felt a little more momentous than any other time in the past, now that you were picturing a fullness that wasn’t just him. Him and you: a concrete being to soothe the sting of his absence long after Joel withdrew.

Something to stick.

“Please say it, baby.”

Someone to call yours.

“I want it,” you said, sounding desperate.

A coil was just starting to form in the place you felt him. Drifting up, pulling tight, making your eyes go glossy and wide while they stuck to Joel’s and begged him for more.

“Want what?” He sped up, and his thrusts got sloppy.

“Want you,” you breathed, “Inside me, Joel, please.”

As if predicting your next thoughts, the man lowered his hand to your belly. You hadn’t even noticed the smallest bulge had taken shape beneath the skin. Joel slowed, momentarily, then rubbed the base of his palm against the mound where your body was obliged to make room for his cock inside you. He drew soft, tender circles there and, with the motion, sent stars flying before your eyes.

“Good girl,” he murmured, “Right here?”

“Ri— right there. Right there.”

Joel adored that sound. The soft, elated look, the gentle knoll of flesh in a bump below his hand, the whimpers rolling off your tongue repeatedly, quicker and quicker the more the pleasure inside you continued to build. Joel’s release was coming soon, too. For the hundredth time that night, he silently wished he were a little younger; so he could fill you up once, twice, twenty more times until your insides were stuffed and painted white. As if reading his mind, as he had for you, you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him in for a kiss.

“Hope our baby has your eyes,” you murmured to him.

It shouldn’t have had such a strong effect—but of course, it did. Joel pictured the small, sweet infant with irises that shone a bit like his, and his stomach caved in.

Tonight, tomorrow, or ten months down the line, he was getting you pregnant. He’d clear his whole schedule for it

“That right?” And now he couldn’t stop the smile as he spoke, leaning even further in, “What about their nose?”

He kissed the tip of yours.

“Hope they get this.”

He kissed either one of your cheeks.

“These too.”

You had to fight back a laugh while his scruff tickled skin. Two deep strokes away from the brink of release and he still somehow always stayed in tune with your needs.

The threat of your peak was perilously near. Joel’s spend and your slick, tender glaze made a chorus of sounds at each thrust, and the deeper he went, the bigger it swelled. Your smiles couldn’t stay for much longer when the feeling inside you both was being amplified like that. Sensing this, Joel took hold of your face and slipped his touch to cup your chin. He made you tilt your head up to him, as if to ask again, ‘Are you sure?’ and when you nodded, his lips twitched again. A fleeting hint of a grin, like he couldn’t be more eager to finish now if he tried.

Holding your face, cock swollen and throbbing and desperate between your walls, he felt a familiar twitch.

There it is.

[pedgito]

JOEL MILLER in every scene — 3/?

[bitchthefuck1]

Something about how physically small Ellie looks in this episode just makes it all so much more intense. How little she is curled next to Joel, how big the rifle looks when she holds it, the way David is able to pick her up so easily. The contrast in the size of their hands when he's telling her that she, a 14-year-old, is his only equal, and how tiny hers look when she wraps her arms around Joel; the way his coat reaches her knees when he drapes it over her. Every second the camera spends on her is forcing you to look at how young she is and it just makes it all so much more awful.

[alloftheimagines]

joel miller | complications

masterlist | tag list

words: 2.9k warnings: 18+ | angst, near death experience, blood, reader has a traumatic birth w/complications, PTSD naturally, joel reminded of sarah's death, newbown baby (yes they can be spooky! but this one is cute and safe), (please just somebody take that poor man's pain away) (or not because then what would we write about?) (also he and ellie are a little estranged like in tlou2) prompt: I was thinking maybe Jackson! Joel era and pregnant reader and then she almost dies while giving birth to the baby! Gives room for a lot of drama and angst, and potential comfort right at the end for our favorite old man. tags: (i know it's been a while since I last posted so let me know if you want to be untagged) @sweetbabygirlsworld @m4tthewmurd0ck @domaniquessidehoe @spideysimpossiblegirl note: you can read this as pedro's joel if you so wish, but i am in my game!joel feels rn

“I can’t do this, Joel.” Your face creased with pain as another contraction wracked through you. You’d known that labour would hurt, of course, but you hadn’t expected it to come on this quickly, and so strong. You hadn’t yet passed the eight-month mark, and you weren’t prepared. Not even a little. You hadn’t even sorted the nursery yet, or found a crib.

Joel held your hand on the floor of your living room, keeping you supported while you braced against the couch. He brushed the hair from your face, calm and unreadable as ever, but even you didn’t miss the way his fingers trembled against your skin. “You got this, baby girl. I know you can.”

“Don’t think you have much of a choice.” Your doctor, one of the few midwives in town, lifted her head. She sat at your feet, peeling off her gloves after your examination. “You’re fully dilated. This baby is coming right now.”

“There’s no time to get to the infirmary?” you questioned, voice rising in panic. The contractions had barely started an hour ago, and sure, you’d left it a little late before confessing that they were getting painful. Ellie had rushed out not fifteen minutes ago to call for your midwife’s help, and now…

Now, the baby was coming, and all you could think was that it wasn’t supposed to be like this. The pregnancy had been a shock to your system. You hadn’t even been sure that Joel would want to go through with it after everything he’d experienced before. But he’d held your hand through each ultrasound, felt your belly for the first kick, and even when you saw fear — dread, even — cross his features, you could easily reassure him that this time was different. This time, it was safe. You’d lived in Jackson for over a year now, and it was the security of the community that had made motherhood feel possible. 

The midwife shook her head. “I’m sorry. You need to start pushing on your next contraction.”

“Oh, god,” you whispered, teeth chattering as the weight of the situation hit you.

“Hey, look at me.” Joel tilted your chin gently. “It’s gonna be just fine, darlin’. You just breathe and push, okay? We’ll do the rest.” 

“Right, just breathe and push,” you muttered. “Of course, you forgot the part about shoving a small human out of my hoo-ha.” 

He smirked, planting a kiss on your forehead. “Oh, right. That little detail.”

“I kinda hate you right now.” Just as you said it, another contraction hit, and your head fell back as you moaned. 

“Push now if you feel like you should!” your midwife reminded. Then, to Ellie: “Go get some clean towels, hon. Lots of ‘em.”

In the doorway, Ellie looked grateful to be given a job and scampered off. 

You did as instructed, dipping your chin into your chest as you pushed, pushed, pushed. A scream ripped through you at the pain it brought, each moment worse than the last. 

“You’re doing so good, baby. So good. She’s gonna be here so soon,” Joel whispered, his grip around you the only thing keeping you tethered to the here and now. 

Dizziness consumed you as your contraction finally eased. “Is she okay?”

“I’m seeing the head.” The midwife beamed. “Just a few more pushes, okay?”

Somehow, you breathed, and you pushed, and you felt your way through the pain as your body broke and mended and then broke again. Joel kept his grip on your hand tight, reassuring, but you saw him bite his lip toward the end and knew that he might have been just as terrified as you. 

The final push finally came, and you sunk back as the newborn's cry rang out.

“She’s here. You did it,” Joel murmured, kissing your clammy temple. He laughed into your skin, the sound of joy and disbelief sending a shiver through you. You tried to lift your head, to see your daughter, but everything felt wrong. Heavy. It still hurt, and black spots dotted your vision. 

“Le’ me see her.” Your words were slurred, your voice far away.

The last thing you heard was Joel calling your name, his voice raw and broken — terrified. 

***

“What’s wrong with her?” he demanded. 

“She’s bleeding too heavily. I need to get her to the infirmary.”  The midwife shook her head, handing him the screaming newborn. His screaming newborn. It had taken months to quell the panic of becoming a father again — not that he had ever truly stopped. Sarah had lived in his heart all these years, and Ellie was his daughter, even if she hated him for what he did. 

He made the mistake of looking at you, and the sight of the blood made him sick. So much of it. There was so damn much of it. He’d seen a lot of people bleed out, but he couldn’t remember ever seeing this much. 

“Shit," he cursed.

He didn’t know when Ellie had returned, but she stood wan and she’ll shocked beside him now.

“Please, take her.” He shoved the baby into her arms before lowering back to his knees to grab your hand. “Don’t you dare do this to me, baby. Not now.” 

“Can you carry her to the infirmary?” the midwife asked desperately.

He didn’t think twice, slipping his arms under your limp body. 

“Joel! She’s gonna be alright, right?” Ellie stuttered, and he heard the panic in her voice, too, as she swayed the baby from side to side, swaddling her in blankets. You were the closest thing Ellie had to a mother. If either of them lost you…

He couldn’t even try to find an answer, as much as he wanted it to be yes.

He gritted his teeth, hauling you up on shaky legs. Thankfully, the infirmary was only a few blocks away, and nobody was there to slow him down so late at night. 

He couldn’t make sense of it. One minute, he’d been settling down for the night after a long patrol shift. The next, you were curled up in pain, claiming the baby was coming. 

“Stay with me,” he pleaded, fingers curling into your old sweater. His old sweater, if he was being particular, but you’d stolen it from him so long ago that it smelled completely of you now: soap and fresh air. Blood. 

He staggered into the infirmary with that smell still in his nostrils, dampness spreading across his hands, and he damn near passed out on the threshold. But he wouldn’t, couldn’t, leave you, even when flashes of him holding Sarah this exact way raced through his mind. Even when a broken sob stuck in his throat, because he was holding on, and you weren’t, and she wasn’t, and why did he always have to be the one to watch the life seep from them? To end the night with nothing but their blood on his hands?

He set you down on the first bed he came to, drawing the alarmed attention of the nurses, who had a moment ago been ready to dose off on their night shift. In such a small community, they weren’t often needed after dark.

Behind him, the midwife called out orders, wheeling you away into the surgery theatre. He watched you disappear into a white-walled room, a tiny thing that never would have sufficed in the old world. 

In the old world, you probably wouldn’t have given birth in a living room. In the old world, he wouldn’t be stiff with a fear he couldn’t control, frozen with memories that refused to ever leave him.

He spun around and felt unsettled to see Ellie cradling the baby, mouth agape with the same cluelessness he felt. His baby. His. He had to be a father now, but he didn’t know how when you weren’t here with him. He felt like that thing he was always losing in his dreams was finally gone for good. Ripped from him one last time.

He couldn’t look at the baby’s cherubic face. Couldn’t even look at Ellie.

He couldn’t remember why he’d been so relaxed just yesterday to think of the little life you’d both been impatiently waiting to begin. Couldn’t remember how he’d found the strength to sing a lullaby to your bump, laughing when a foot kicked his palm as though telling him to shut the hell up. 

What the fuck was he supposed to do now? She was so tiny and pink and new, wrapped in bloody blankets, and he…

“Go give her to one of the nurses,” he whispered. 

“Joel—” Ellie made to protest, but he couldn’t hear it. Wouldn't.

“Ellie,” he snapped. “Go give her to one of the damn nurses. I can’t.”

“Well, you don’t have a fucking choice, because she’s yours now.” Ellie shoved her into his hands without warning. He tensed with the new weight, bile rising in his stomach. No. No. No. Everything he held, he broke. 

But then the baby let out a gurgle, her feet kicking his palm just like the night before when she was still safe in your belly, and he couldn’t keep from looking down at her. Couldn’t keep from seeing you in all her innocent features. Eyes, nose, even the fine tuft of hair on her head. 

“I can clean her down and check she’s doing okay,” a nurse offered, and suddenly, he was reluctant to let her go. 

And then he remembered you, the blood, your motionless body after so long spent screaming, Ellie’s hatred, Tess, Sarah, and he was glad for somebody else to take care of her. The further away that kid was, the better. He was a fucking curse, and she…

He scraped a hand over his face, pacing over to the surgery room. He didn’t dare march in, no matter how badly he wanted to. 

“She’s going to be okay,” Ellie said from behind him gently. “She’s strong, and I’m sure shit like this happens all the time.” 

“I told her we’d be okay,” Joel rasped out, face crumpling finally. “I told her that it would turn out alright, that we could be… That we could make something good here.”

“And you will,” Ellie said. 

He shook his head. “I might as well have killed her my damn self.” He looked down at his bloodied hands as though they weren’t his. They shook more than they ever had before. 

“Stop it! She’s going to make it. She has to!” Ellie’s yell took him aback, piercing in such a quiet, echoey space. She jabbed a finger into Joel’s shoulder. “And you have to hold it together. I know it’s fucking hard, alright, but you don’t get to lose it now! You can’t blame yourself for everything that goes wrong in our lives, Joel! That’s not how it works!”

He swallowed down his own self-loathing, head bowed. “I can’t do it without her,” he whispered. 

The rawness in his voice must have been visceral, because Ellie paused, her eyes filling with tears. 

And then she hugged him, tight enough that he thought maybe she was trying to keep him in one piece. He let out a ragged breath and held her. And then he did what she asked. He tried to hold it together. 

***

You woke to whispers and gurgles and wondered for a moment if you were dreaming. Your lids were heavy, body distant, and you couldn’t quite remember where you were or who was supposed to be with you. 

Until you prised your eyes open and found IVs plugged into your veins. 

“There she is,” a voice said softly. 

You blinked, searching for the source, and found it in a bleary version of Joel. He sat in a chair beside your bed, a tiny baby in his arms. His smile was shaky, distorted, and you didn’t know why. Not until he leaned forward and brushed your hair from your face with his free arm.

“Thought you’d left me there for a second.” 

“Is she okay?” Your throat was hoarse. 

He nodded. “Right as rain. It’s you we were worried about.” 

You frowned, trying to remember. One minute, you were pushing as though your life depended on it, and then the next, you were just… gone. 

“You had a heavy bleed. Needed a transfusion,” Joel explained finally. “But they reckon you’re gonna be okay, thank god.” 

“But she’s okay?” You stared at the baby nestled against his chest, not quite sure how she was here. When had this being growing inside of you become a real, tangible thing? How much of her life had you already missed?

Joel sighed impatiently. “Yes, baby. She’s perfect. Takes after her mom in that department.”

He moved to perch beside you so that you could get a closer look. He was right, of course. She was a little smaller than most newborns, but she was perfect. Pink apple cheeks, wide eyes, tiny fingernails. Looking at her felt like everything had finally fallen into place. You tickled her chin and her lips twitched with something content. Something right.

“How’s it feel, being a daddy again?” you asked gently, looking up at him. 

“Right now, it feels like hell. You can’t go scaring me like that.” He wouldn’t look at you, frown set firmly on his daughter. “Thought I was gonna have a heart attack."

“I’m sorry.” You couldn’t imagine how scared he must have been. After everything, you’d finally thought that danger, terror, was a thing of the past. You’d done a great job of ruining that, even if it wasn’t on purpose. Joel had lost too much before to deal with all this, and you had no idea how you’d cope in his shoes. 

He chuckled. “You’re sorry.” Shook his head. “I ain’t trying to make you apologise for almost dying, darlin’. You don’t gotta worry about me.”

“We said we could do this right,” you whispered. “I promised you it’d be different.” 

“Yeah, well… feels like things’ll never be different for me.” 

You snapped your head up. “What’s that mean?” 

“Nothin’.” He sighed, kissing your temple, and yet still, he wouldn’t meet your eye. “How about you get some rest? I’ll keep the little missus company.” 

“Joel.” You cupped his jaw, pleading now. Everything felt so wrong. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. Even though the proof was right in front of you, it was hard to believe your baby was happy and healthy after all the trauma you’d faced. “We’re not gonna start her life this way. Tell me what you mean.”

He placed the baby down in the crib beside your bed before pinching the bridge of his nose. “I keep having to plan a life where I’m alone again, and honestly, I don’t know how I’d do it if I had to. Not this time.”

“But you’re not alone. I’m right here.”

“But you weren’t. For a minute there, I thought…” His voice grew thick, and he shook his head. “Sarah’s gone. Ellie hates me. Why the hell did I think it’d be third time lucky? She’s not even a day old, and she almost lost her mom! And there was nothing I could do. There’s never anything I can do.”

Your heart ached for him. One day, you prayed he wouldn’t hold the responsibility of every single person he loved on his shoulders. Maybe he was right. Maybe you’d been foolish to go into this thinking it could be better. The world would never be safe, not even here in Jackson, and the pain he must live with every day sure as hell wouldn’t ease now he had another daughter to raise. 

You felt hollow at the thought that maybe he’d leave. You wouldn’t blame him, not really. You were scared, too. But you’d only found the strength to do this because you were together, and you’d survived the odds so far. If that stopped feeling true… what then?

Devastation must have been written all over your face, because he pursed his lips. “Don’t listen to me, baby. I shouldn’t be sayin’ all this. You’re barely out of the woods.” 

“I don’t think we can keep doing this if you don’t let some of that guilt and blame go, Joel,” you admitted. “I think your daughter is gonna need a man who doesn’t hate himself for every single thing that’s wrong in the world. You’re right. There was nothing you could have done to stop this from happening. It was my body, and things like this happened even before the outbreak. I can’t imagine how scared you were, love, but fuck, you can’t keep making it your fault. It isn’t. It never was, especially not with Sarah. And this baby? She isn't Sarah." 

He winced at her name, as he often still did. Collapsing back in his chair, he took your hand. Slowly, his lower lip began to wobble as he finally met your gaze. “I love you too much to lose you. And her… How the hell am I gonna do this?” 

“I can’t answer that,” you said. “We knew it wouldn’t be easy.”

He snorted. “Ain’t that the truth.” Then, he bowed his head to press a kiss to the back of your hand. “Gonna try to be better. I promise. I'll hold it together."

“You don’t need to be better, and you don't need to hold it together. You’re already a good man, and talking about all this is important - for both of us. And for her.” You squeezed his fingers tightly. “I love you so much.” You teared up as you looked at the baby dozing in her crib. “And god, I love her. Can you believe we made her?” 

He hummed. “What the hell are we gonna call her?” 

“And where the hell are we gonna put her?” you added, worrying at your lip. “We never even found a crib.”

He shrugged, teasing. “I’m sure we’ll find a corner somewhere.” He leaned forward, tracing circles along your arm. “We’ll make do. Between the four of us, we’ll find a way. I’ll cut the damn trees down and build us a place from scratch myself if I have to.”

You smiled, peace finally flooding your exhausted body. You saw Ellie standing in the doorway, leaning against the frame with her arms crossed, and knew Joel was right. Your family was complete now. It would be a little broken at times, as all things were, but you’d do everything in your power to keep it whole. 

Even if it meant reminding Joel every damn day that he had to be gentle with himself.

[ellieabbyy]

the fact that this is her face the first time she walks into Joel's house after everything… i’m gonna cry

[myfandomistingling]

SAME ENERGY.

[scrambledslut]

[josephquinnswhore]

hiking - joel miller x female reader

summary: as a family, you go on a hike with your daughter.

word count: 1k

content warning: joel wanting to have another baby omlll, NO smut. Fluff!! Dad joel.

a/n: the second photo (of the waterfall) is my own. Do not edit or repost without permission!!!! Took this today while on a hike hehe.

The burning ache in your calves serve as a reminder to you that you’re not the woman you once were. Activities like this, hiking, walking along a perfectly cured tar track was more of an effort than it had ever been. You’d grown a bit slack in your usual adventures, ones that are demanding now; were so simple back then.

Now, there’s the ache in your back that hasn’t left since you’d entered your third trimester years ago, it’s a constant reminder of why you haven’t had a second child after Sarah.

An ache constricts in your chest, pneumonia wracks your lungs, burning and causing strain on your breathing. You carry a small bag on your back, a few water bottles and some snacks for Sarah, not to mention your asthma puffer. Joel had insisted, in case you’d collapse, he was more worried than your mother most days.

He didn’t want you out of the house, his face almost turning white when you’d brought up the idea of going hiking like this, for the first time since Sarah had been born, nonetheless. She was almost three now. He’d been keeping a close eye on you, turning back to make sure you’re okay. Offering that subtle smile, supportive.

The tar track is slippery, bright green moss has grown in between the cracks of the concrete, making it slippery. You’re conscious of it now, making a mental note to watch your step.

“Nearly there darlin’, you’re doin’ great.” Joel praised softly as he stopped, turning back to wait for you, where you linger a few paces back, keeping a mindful eye on Sarah to make sure she didn’t wonder off track. Joel had her though, he did. He was always aware, always scanning for anything that could or might be a threat or hazard to his little girl.

“C’here baby girl. Hold daddies hand.” He’d murmur for the tenth time, his giant hand contorts around her own, and Sarah giggles.

The sight warms your heart, swelling with pride and adoration. This was your family, your husband. You’d picked the right man, you’d known it since you met him.

“Come on mommy!” Sarah fleets with joy and excitement. It’s enough for you to push through the burn on each inhale.

“I’m gonna get ya baby!” You put your hands up, mocking a monster, roaring as you take big stomps towards her as she tries to drag Joel along to run.

“Run daddy, run! Mommy’s a scary monster!” Joel plays along, gasping dramatically as he lets Sarah lead him up the path.

The sound of water is thunderous and distracting, too loud for Sarah to keep up her charade of playing monsters. She tilts her head. “What’s that noise?”

“That’s the waterfall, baby, what we came to see.” Joel explains, pointing to the huge waterfall. It’s hundreds of meters deep, the water is brown, rushing through the rocks down into the pool of stagnant water below, where the water begins to foam. A small family of ducks occupy the water.

Sarah squeals in joy as she sees a peek of the waterfall from her height, the trees obscure her view. “I wanna see! I wanna see more daddy!”

“Just a few more steps baby, then we can get a real good look.” Joel encourages with a big toothy smile, turning to you, ensuring you get the hint that the encouragement was meant for you too.

The lookout is stunning, fenced all around, and safe. You remember the view, from before you fell pregnant. It hadn’t changed a bit. The rain sprinkles down onto you, and Sarah rushes up to see the waterfall.

“Wow. Water!” She exclaims, trying to show Joel. “Look daddy, a bird!”

It’s clear she was in awe of how many animals she’d seen, pointing out every duck, bird and bug she could see.

Lifting Sarah up against your chest, you give her a better view, clear of the obstruction of the fence. One her little body couldn’t yet compromise. “Ain’t that pretty?” You murmur softly to her, pressing a small kiss to her cheek.

“Turn around darlin’.” Joel calls softly, getting your attention, you turn around and Joel’s getting his new phone out. An iPhone he was still learning to use for work.

He fumbled for a second before snapping a family photo of all of you. “We’re gonna have to find room on the wall for this,” he hums.

“Show me that,” you scold lightly, and you grimace once you see the photo. Your cheeks are red and you look sick. You are sick—but that’s besides the point.

Joel knows you’re about to protest, to whinge or huff. “You look beautiful. This is us remaking memories with out little girl. Maybe good enough to have another?” He pries softly.

He’s been bugging you for another baby. You almost give in.

“My backs already killing me,” a simple reminder and he makes a noise of resignation. “But I didn’t say no,” you murmur. The thought of a second baby was on your mind too.

His brown eyes twinkle with hope. He’d have to bring this up later at home.

The rain trickles down a little harder, and Sarah starts to get a little unsettled. It’s cold and wet and the wind is picking up. “Come on baby, let’s walk back to the car.” You offer your hand out for her to hold, and Sarah shakes her head, tears welling up in her brown eyes.

“No! Cuddle!” She demands, holding her arms up for you to pick up her.

“I can’t baby, you know mommy can’t carry you all the way back,” you explain softly.

Joel steps in. He won’t allow you to pick Sarah up while you’re sick, or while your back hurts.

“Daddy will put you up on his shoulders, how’s that sound baby?” Sarah looks up at him and nods, her cheeks and nose are turning red.

He swings her up, and she sits on his shoulders, she clings onto the curls on top his head. Your fingers fumble to find your phone in your jumper pocket, snapping an image, unbeknownst to Joel.

“You gonna make it back?” Joel asked, concern abrupt in his tone.

“I’ll be okay.” You reassure softly. “Let’s get going.”

Maybe—you would do this more often from now on.

[goldenispunk]

I’m convinced being held by him for one (1) minute would heal me

[steeb-stn]

Joel making toys for baby Miller, wooden blocks and a choo choo train and noahs ark with all the animals and a barn and a whole doll house when they get older

[daydreamingmiller]

joel miller 15/?

[softpascalito]

I Baby, I'm Your National Anthem I 2003!DBF!Joel Miller I

Summary: You are back from college for the summer and your family happens to throw the annual Fourth of July Barbecue for your street. Your next-door neighbor and dad's best friend Joel Miller is invited—and you decide to wear a bold outfit. It definitely catches his attention.

Pairing: 2003!DBF!Joel Miller x F!Reader Rating: Explicit / MDNI Word count: 3.3k Tags: Explicit, Smut, Age Difference, Pre-Cordyceps Outbreak, Fourth of July, DBF!Joel, Fingering, P in V Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Pool Sex, Unsafe Sex, Dirty Talk, Biting, Teasing, Making Out, Outdoor Sex, Alcohol (like two beers)

AO3 LINK // Masterlist

notes: i saw one (1) tiktok with this fucking glorious fourth of july outfit and somehow this happened. consider this fanfic to be my application to be invited to your 4th of july party next year (yes, you specifically). enjoy the filth <3 (also highly recommend listening to national anthem by lana while reading!)

The sound of the sprinklers rotating on the lawn in front of your window and the slamming of a truck door alerted you that your father was back with the last minute groceries. You quickly got up, heading out to the driveway to help carry the brown bags.

“Take those first, it’s ice cream for the kids. Don’t want it melting,” he advised as he busied himself with grabbing the cooler off the truck bed, disappearing towards the garden, the fence running along it already decorated with red, white and blue, matching the tablecloths and flags hung from the large tree in your backyard to the porch.

You had just got back from college for the summer and had been more than ready to enjoy your time off as you usually did, by lounging in the sun behind your house or going for a swim in the neighbor’s pool. The honeymoon phase of holidays, before they turned into the unavoidable boredom that followed once all reunions had been completed and, at the same time, reminded you precisely why you’d gotten out of the small neighborhood in Austin at your first chance.

The bag you’d brought home was still on the floor in your room, barely half unpacked. Sitting on top of it was the outfit you had picked out weeks ago—at the precise moment your father had called to let you know it was your family's turn to host your street's traditional barbecue on the Fourth of July.

A blue and white checkered bikini, the bottoms made of much less fabric than you’d ever seen sold in Austin. A pair of shorts that seemed barely bigger, cut low enough to give a peak of the set below—and a crop top, the words ‘Miss America’ splayed across your chest in curved, red letters, complete with two red bows attached to the straps. You were certain that, if your father still had a say in your clothing choices, this would not go—and that was precisely why it was perfect. If your father hated it, so would his best friend.

Joel Miller had been little more than your kind next-door neighbor for years—until you’d come back from college for your first break. Suddenly, you questioned how for years you’d been able to miss the way his shirt strained over his broad shoulders or the small grunts that left him when he was tinkering with his truck in the driveway.

You ignored your father’s muttered comments about your outfit as you returned to the kitchen a few minutes later and busied yourself with the last few preparations.

“It’s what all the girls at college wear.” He shook his head but stayed quiet.

Joel and Sarah arrived a little later than the other guests, greeting your father as they stepped into the backyard and you caught something about a mess-up at the construction site as the two men embraced. You turned your attention towards Sarah, who excitedly asked your opinion about her new sneakers and didn’t run off to join the other kids playing football at the far end of the backyard until you reassured her that they were indeed very cool, throwing in a comment about how you’d seen someone at University wear them—making her positively beam.

You turned towards the house just in time to see Joel’s eyes land on you. Oh boy.

His gaze trailed down your body, tracing your curves, no doubt taking in the shape of your body. It took him a few moments to snap out of it, shifting as his gaze returned to your face before he hesitantly crossed the space between you. The polite, strained expression on his face told you exactly how hard he was trying to keep his eyes from wandering.

“Back from college then?” he asked, clearly keeping the conversation light. Though you did like to think, unlike many others, that he actually wanted to know. That he cared.

“For the summer,” you responded, smiling up at him innocently, still aware of his eyes on you.

“How d’you like it?” Joel placed a hand on his hip, looking at you expectantly.

“It's good. A little exhausting sometimes. Lots of studying.” You grinned as you saw him raise a brow.

“Studying, eh?” There was something twinkling in his eyes, a certain sense of mischief you hadn't seen in him before. “That what all the kids do up there these days?”

“That and a few parties,” you admitted with a small smirk. “You know, finding the balance of life. But college boys are—”

Both your heads flew around as you heard your dad call your name and for a second, your heart felt like it stopped. You'd wanted to tease Joel by talking about college boys, not reveal your love life to your father. But clearly, he hadn't heard. “Get Joel a beer, will you?”

Joel opened his mouth—but then he shook his head. His voice sounded strained as he spoke. “Beer sounds good.”

You led him towards the cooler, reaching down to grab two bottles, handing one to him. A bemused smile played around his lips as he nodded towards the bottle still clutched in your hand. “Your old man letting you sneak beers?”

“He doesn't have to,” you said with a satisfied smirk, grabbing the bottle opener and handing it to him. “Turned twenty-one this spring.”

You could see Joel's hand shaking slightly as he opened his beer before motioning for you to give him yours and doing the same for you. “Quite the gentleman,” you mumbled, taking in the way his green flannel sat a bit too tight around his broad chest.

“You don't know half of it.”

During the afternoon, the light blue sky seemed to be celebrating the holiday as much as the people below it. The barbecue was fired up by your father, the other fathers gathering around as he explained the new, improved features, making you roll your eyes. You drifted back and forth between the adults and the children, joining the latter for a few rounds of football until the sun began to set.

Joel kept his distance and, with a slightly heavy heart, you followed his lead. He was rather quiet but still, you could see his eyes flying towards you occasionally. You began to wonder if you had miscalculated.

When the salad bowl ran low for the second time, you volunteered yourself to head inside to refill it. You had barely placed it on the kitchen counter when you felt him standing in the doorway, leaning casually against the dark wood. His eyes trailed down your form more slowly than before, leaving no doubt in your mind that the outfit had fulfilled its purpose of getting his attention.

“Quite a party.” His gaze was still not meeting yours, lingering on your chest.

“Wait until they bring out the fireworks. My dad bought enough to light up the whole street.” Your voice shook slightly as you spoke.

Joel shook his head, a tiny smile forming on his face as he stepped forward. “Ain’t what I meant.” His hand brushed over your thigh and you sent an anxious glimpse out the window, making sure that you weren't in anyone's line of sight.

“It's a pretty bikini,” Joel mumbled, lowering his voice. His thumb was brushing over the checkered fabric where it peeked out from under your shorts. “Shame you aren't taking a swim in it.”

An involuntary breath left your throat as you felt his free hand coming up to your face, nudging your chin up slightly. You couldn't remember ever being so close to him, your brain going into overdrive as it tried to figure out which part of his face to commit to memory first. Desire burned in your core brighter than ever and between that and the beer possibly clouding your judgment, you bit your lip, sending the man in front of you a shy smile and yet abandoning all care. You'd be back to college in a few weeks. If this went wrong, you'd never have to speak to him again.

“Is that an offer?”

“Damn sure is, darling,” Joel mused, his hand squeezing your hip and you let out a small breath of relief.

You thanked all your lucky stars for the architect who had built your house some 50 years ago—and had clearly taken into account that you would one day need to sneak out the back door with your dads best friend—preferably without being seen. It faced towards the high fence that separated your yard from the Miller’s, making it feel almost too easy for the two of you to sneak off.

You hadn’t even reached the pool when you dropped your shirt and pants to the floor, making Joel whistle lowly behind you. “I was right. It is a fucking pretty bikini.” You felt your cheeks flush at the compliment, his eyes still raking over your body as his clothes joined yours on the floor, leaving him in only his boxers.

You’d seen him shirtless a few times. When you'd brought over something you had borrowed and he was in the pool or the one time you'd been over to help Sarah with some homework and he'd just gotten out of the shower, a beige towel wrapped around his waist. You’d felt like some fucking creep when you had recalled the sight of his naked chest, and the trail of hair leading further down, at night and slipped a hand between your own thighs, thinking that you stood no chance with the man who was frequently whispered about by the single ladies of the neighbourhood, despite rarely showing interest in them.

You lowered yourself into the water and felt it ripple around you as Joel followed. The next moment, he was beside you, pushing you towards the other edge of the pool, strong arms caging you in on either side. You could still hear the party going on behind the fence, voices and music, the smell of barbecue drifting through the air. And a few lights—tiny holes in the fence allowing them to travel through, the warm glow reflecting on the surface of the pool.

Joel growled as he nipped at your skin, hard enough that you already knew it'd leave marks. Good.

“Can't let you go back to college without something to remind you of me,” he muttered and you sucked in a breath in response, the words going straight to your core. His teeth scraped over the notch between your collarbones and you felt a moan begin to travel up your throat. Before it could escape however, Joel's hand clasped firmly over your mouth, forcing you to breathe through your nose as your eyes widened slightly.

“Don't want your dad hearing us, do you?” Joel muttered and indeed you could hear the voice of your father booming through the night air as he delivered some punchline to a no doubt stupid joke. You shook your head softly and that seemed to satisfy Joel because the next moment, his hand left your mouth and began to slide down your body, trailing over it the same way his eyes had earlier tonight. Your breath hitched in your throat as you felt his index finger circle drawing shapes on your hip before slipping under your bikini, brushing past your clit and settling between your folds.

“Hard to tell in here but feels like you’re wet for me,” Joel muttered with a grin and you bit your lip, voice hoarse as you tried to keep quiet.

“Took you long enough to notice,” you teased—and the reaction was immediate. He pushed you further against the side of the pool, trapping you with his broad body.

“Watch it.” His index finger moved upwards—and the next moment, your walls were clenching around it, already begging for more. You felt a second finger drawing large circles around your clit again—when a noise on the other side of the fence made both of you pause, heads swiveling around just in time to see a football land on the lawn.

He cursed under his breath, pushing himself off you and dragging you to the end of the pool least visibly from the house. The deck was raised high enough above the water that if you squeezed yourself against the wall, you just may not be seen—especially in the dark. Once he had pushed you into the corner, he was about to follow when your eyes widened. “Joel, the clothes,” you whispered in a panicked voice.

“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath and crossed the pool in a few strokes, climbing back onto the porch. You watched, holding your breath, as he looked around, finally locating two towels and throwing one over the mixed pile of clothes and wrapping the other around his waist. No second too late, because the next moment one of the men who had marveled at your dads new barbecue earlier strode over the lawn. “Miller, hey! What’re you doing out here?”

Even in the water, you felt your knees go weak. Joel was dripping wet, his cheeks flushed—your only hope was that the other man was either too drunk or too stupid to realize what was happening.

“Heard something thud against the wall.” You heard Joel respond. “Was just taking a shower, Tony spilled his beer all over my shirt earlier.”

The other man let out a small laugh. “Yeah, he’s wasted.” You couldn't see him from where you were standing but you heard him pick up the ball as an idea popped into your head. You shifted slightly, knowing your movement would be visible to Joel, who was still in your sight—and after a moment, you held up your bikini bottoms, smiling innocently. Joel's eyes flickered towards you for a split second—and even in the dark you could see his body tense, adjusting the towel around his waist as the veins on his neck bulged with restraint.

Footsteps told you the other man was leaving, until they paused again. His voice rang through the yard once more. To your horror, it was your name that filled the air. “Do you know where she went? Her father was looking for her I think.”

Joel's face twitched before he forced himself to smile. “No clue. Maybe calling a secret college boyfriend.”

He waited until the man's laughter had drifted away and joined with the noises of the party again before he dropped the towel, his cock straining at the fabric of his boxers.

As soon as he was back in the pool, he was upon you, cowering over you with a hard expression on his face, snatching the small piece of fabric from your hand. “Think it’s fucking funny?” He muttered, his eyes flying over your face. 

The alcohol was definitely having an effect on you because you grinned, nodding weakly. “A little bit.”

Joel actually fucking growled at that.

He made short work of your bikini top, yanking it off to gather your breasts in his large hands, squeezing slightly. “That fucking mouth of yours, darling.”

“Should shut me up,” you muttered back and his eyes briefly searched yours before his mouth was on yours. Neither of you were gentle, much too impatient for soft kisses. His tongue slipped into your mouth, his teeth grazed over your lip and you could feel the vibrations of his groans traveling right from his throat into yours.

When he broke the kiss, you whined in protest, wrapping your own arms around him to pull him closer, making him groan as his still covered cock brushed against your stomach. “Goddamn, baby, you gonna let me fuck you?”

Joel didn't even flinch when you softly bit down on his earlobe. “Like you have to ask, Miller.”

His last name seemed to do as much to him as it did to you because his hands briefly left your sides to yank his boxers down, throwing them carelessly onto the lawn behind you. “Get your ass up here,” he commanded as he hoisted you up and you automatically wrapped your legs around his waist, feeling his cock nudge at your entrance.

Joel swallowed and you could see him struggling to restrain himself. “Do you want me to go and get-”

“Got it covered,” you said impatiently before he could even finish the sentence.

“You sure?” He asked again and you nodded impatiently. And then he was finally pushing his hips upwards, his cockhead parting your lips, requesting entrance. You let your body fall into his rhythm, sinking down on him, forcing a whimper from your throat.

You barely heard the shuffling behind the fence and the voices getting more muted as the party seemed to be moved towards the street, further away from you.

“It ain’t your first time, is it, sweetheart?” Joel suddenly piped up, watching your expression carefully and you could distinctly hear the note of concern in his voice. But you shook your head.

“Told you,” you breathed out. “College boys.”

“This gonna be better than any damn college boy,” Joel mumbled, a grunt leaving his throat as he began to thrust up into you properly, driving any worry out of your mind.

“You knew what you were doing to me tonight?” He muttered, causing you to shake your head despite the fact that you knew exactly, even planned, to do it to him. You wanted to give a snarky response, something smart, but you could barely think straight with his cock nestled so deep inside of you.

“Made me hard all throughout dinner, thinking about all the things i could do with you,” Joel answered his own question before changing his angle slightly, his arms wrapped tightly around you. “Fuck, doing so good for me, darling.”

“Joel—” you choked out, feeling the orgasm that had been lingering for what felt like forever now approaching rapidly. “Want you to come inside, please—”

His eyes darkened as he nodded. And then, suddenly a sparkling light reflected in his eyes—followed by a loud bang far above you. The fireworks had started.

It only took a few more thrusts and Joel's finger returning to your clit to send you rushing towards your orgasm, your fingernails scratching over his back so hard that you were certain you were not going to be the only one with something to remember tomorrow.

“Come on,” Joel edged you on. “Show me how pretty you look coming on my cock, baby.”

And you did, groaning as your body tensed, the feeling inside your stomach so similar to the exploding fireworks above, with Joel following suit, obeying your wish and spilling himself deep inside of you as you clung on to him, so content to finally, finally carry him so deep inside, the thought traveling right to your core again as he gathered you in his arms, both of you tilting your heads back enough to watch the sky above sparkle in different colors.

“Happy fourth, Joel.”

He pressed a kiss to your cheek. “Happy fucking fourth, darling.”

He gathered the clothes in his arms, whispering promises and praise as he led you up the stairs to his bathroom, having insisted to at least get you clean before letting you sneak back home. His hands brushed over your naked skin, causing you to raise a brow. “I thought we were gonna take a shower?” “Oh, I'm not nearly done with you,” Joel muttered in your ear, causing you to smirk. You reached for your clothes but Joel only gave a small tut. “You’ll get them back. Just not—” He raised the checkered bikini bottom. “This. I’m keeping that.”

thank you for reading! every time you leave a comment, a firework explodes over joel miller fucking in a pool btw :)

[that-homoerotic-blouse]

Feral stray at the rescue up for adoption

same stray 1 year after being adopted

[tlou-obsessed]

why is this giving me the same vibe

[tightjeansjavi]

The Rite of Movement | drabble

“Daddy’s not bluffing, baby love”

A/N: you know you’re super dedicated when you find yourself at home ✨practicing✨ just so that the smut makes sense and is easy to visualize 👹 and just when I thought that Joel and baby love couldn’t get any nastier…😮‍💨 oh, and just in case anyone gets confused with the addition of Ellie, this is after she’s adopted (spoilers, but not really bc she’s Joel’s kid in every universe let’s be real)

~word count: 2.0k~

Summary: Ellie is away at Dina’s for the weekend leaving you and Joel with the house completely to yourselves

Pairing | pornstar!joel x pornstar!female reader

Warnings: smut, established relationship. reader and Joel are pornstars, Joel is in his 40’s reader is in her 30’s, big ole fat daddy kink, fingering, unprotected piv, big dom energy from Joel, baby love is acting like brat, sexual punishment, spanking, degrading language but it’s hot, okay?, use of slut, brat, etc, semi-public sex, voyerism (Tommy), language, mentions of alcohol, Ellie exists in this universe!!, reader has no physical descriptions, readers nickname is baby love, +18 minors dni!

series masterlist

Ellie was away for the weekend with Dina and her family leaving you and Joel with the house completely to yourselves…which was a rare occurrence these days.

You and Joel have since then moved the home studio back to the Miller-Co office. You aren’t doing much filming these days, anyway. This was a mutual decision, and this also gave Tommy the opportunity to show Joel that he could handle the business on his own come the day that you and Joel would eventually retire. But with Ellie gone for the weekend, you and Joel had the time to relax and that’s how you found yourselves spending the morning by the pool.

Joel was comfortably laying poolside, cheaters perched on his nose that was buried in the book he was reading that Ellie had recommended to him. Artemis was laying by his feet, bathing in the sun while you were lounging in the pool. You had discarded your bikini top to the pool's edge to avoid any tan lines while you were lounging on your stomach along one of the extremely comfortable, and extra durable inflatables.

Artemis had grown curious of the water as she watched you float by, and before Joel could stop her, she hopped down from the chair and trotted over to the pool's edge. She was an agile little thing, having no problem jumping right onto your bare back and curling up against your warm, sunbathed skin.

Joel shook his head, muttering under his breath as he reached for his phone so he could take a picture while you reached one hand behind your back to give her a few gentle pets.

He posted the photo to his instagram with the caption: my two sun babies 🌞💓

Ellie had texted the family group chat immediately when she saw the photo:

I hope you’re disinfecting the pool before I get home 🙄

Joel: shouldn’t you be off your phone and paying attention to Dina, kiddo? 🤔

Ellie: u text like an old man lol

Baby Love: lol. He does

Tommy: where was my invite?

Joel: I do not text like an old man 😡

-to Tommy: inappropriate

Ellie: do too 🤭

Tommy: inappropriate that I wanna come over and swim?? Get ur head out of the gutter lol

Joel: do not

Baby Love: you’re not gonna win this one, baby.

Ellie: see, even mom agrees!

Joel: there’s too many gals in this household 🙄

Ellie: yea, man! Ur outnumbered lol

Joel: don’t I know it

Tommy: I’m coming over

Joel: no you’re not

Baby Love: can you bring a case of Modelo’s?

Ellie: I don’t think Tommy knows what those are lol

Joel: how would you know what those are? 👀

Ellie: did I say something?

Tommy: why can’t u just be normal and drink Coors Lite lol

Joel: don’t start gaslighting me young lady

Baby Love: because unlike u, I have taste

Ellie: ooooh burn

Tommy: ouch 😓 I thought we were friends!

Joel: 😒

Ellie: I’m more of a Modelo gal myself

Joel: ELLIE

Baby Love: that’s my girl!

-to Tommy: we are friends 🩷 you just have shit taste in beer

Joel: where are u getting beer from

Ellie: that’s none of your beeswax

Joel: Ellie Miller, I will ground your ass so fast the second you get home

Baby Love: it was me. I’m the culprit

Tommy: I don’t forgive u

Ellie: don’t punish mom! She said I can drink as long as I’m safe 😇

Tommy: lol I’m not coming over, I changed my mind!

Baby Love: but my Modelos :(

Joel to Baby Love in a private chat:

“Who the fuck do you think you’re callin’ a pussy?!” He growled from the chair, completely sitting up now with his legs swung over the side just as you quickly tucked your phone underneath your left boob and looked over your shoulder at him with a faux innocent expression on your face.

“I am, pussy.”

“Wanna say that a third time?” He challenged you, standing up with his hands planted on his hips as he approached the edge of the pool. Even Artemis sensed the tension rise so she quickly hopped off your back as soon as the raft was close to the pool's ledge.

“Artie.” You frowned, “come back. Daddy’s only messing! He’s not actually gonna do anything!” You grabbed your phone from under your boob and carefully placed it on the pools ledge so it wouldn’t get wet, and just as you were about to push the raft back to the middle of the pool to float away, Joel hand crouched down and grabbed ahold of the corner of the raft, yanking you towards him.

“I said, wanna say that a third time?” He snipped.

Oh he’s mad now, alright.

You let out a huff, rolling over onto your back so your bare tits were on full display with your arms languidly crossed behind your head as you peered up at him through your sunglasses, smirk plastered on your pretty lips, “daddy’s a pussy and he’s not gonna do anything about it.” You chimed.

“Fuckin’ little brat.” He muttered as he pushed your raft away from the ledge before he dove in underneath it.

You quickly flipped over onto your stomach, pathetically attempting to paddle away just as he resurfaced with his face inches away from your dangling ankles. You let out a playful squeal when he nibbles on your calf as his big hands and broad arms easily slide up your thighs, thumbs looping through the flimsy strings that are barely holding your bikini bottoms together. Even in the deep end of the pool, Joel is standing, more like…looming over the raft and casting a dark shadow over your bare back.

“Don’t think ya heard me the first time, baby love.” He rasps, yanking your bikini bottoms down swiftly over your ass and thighs, “said that you had ‘bout five seconds to take these flimsy ass bikini bottoms off before I did it for you.” He tuts, grasping the outside of your thighs as he pulls you further down the length of the raft as if you’re just a measly rag doll. “And then what do ya do?” He asks, not needing a response.

“You call me a fuckin’ pussy.” He bends over, harshly biting at your left cheek, leaving visible indentations in your skin from his canines, “slutty little brat my girl is, hmm?” He teases, biting down on the right cheek as you let out a squeal.

He pulls back, marveling at his work before he brings the palm of his hand down against the meatiest part of your left cheek hard enough to send your back arching in surprise. He watches your plush skin recoil before he does it again, and then the same to the right cheek.

“I’m—I’m sorry, daddy! You aren’t a pussy! Not even close to being one!”

“You ain't sorry, baby love. Cus’ this is what you wanted all along, right? Wanted your daddy to come in here and teach his bratty little slut a lesson? Well, your wish is comin’ true!” He chuckles, using his thumbs to spread your cheeks apart before he spits a glob of saliva between them, watching it drool and drip between your ass and thighs. “Show me your fuckin’ pussy, baby love. Be a good girl now for daddy.”

“Yes, daddy.” You mewled, “you got me. It was my plan all along.” you suppress a giggle, lifting yourself up on your elbows as you spread your thighs apart, arching your back further so he had a clear and direct view of your pussy. “You gonna give my pussy a kiss daddy? I’m really sorry.” He doesn’t need to see your face to know that you’re pouting.

He scoffs, dropping his hands down from your ass to spread you open further. He intently watches the way your little hole pulses under his harsh stare, begging for any form of stimulation. “You think I’m gonna give your pussy a kiss, baby love? Think you deserve that?” He snickers, leaning in to drag his nose right through your slick folds, inhaling deeply before he pulls back, “think you oughta just take whatever daddy fuckin’ gives ya, sweet girl.”

“Oh, fuck.” You whimpered, dropping your head between your shoulders, “Daddy, please. I’m so sorry for calling you a pussy! I’ll—I’ll never do it again, I swear!”

“Hush up, baby love. Quit your whinin’ and take what daddy fuckin’ gives you.” He growled. It was a miracle that even with his added weight to the float, the damn thing didn’t pop from the pressure as he wasted no time to slip two of his thick fingers inside of your pussy till they were knuckle deep with his palm pressing flat between the apex of your thighs. You felt the weight of his chest and shoulders pressing into your back while his fingers shallowly thrusted inside of you at a merciless pace, scissoring you open with each thrust, creating ripples in the water below the raft.

O—oh—oh fuck! Fuck! Fuccck!” You cried out, lurching forward as his fingers pistoned inside of you, “daddy, please! Please! I’m sorry!” Your eyes rolled back in your skull when he crooks his fingers, curling them against the spongy spot inside of you that has you seeing spots of stars cloud your vision.

He’s leaned over you completely now in a possessive manner. His lips at your ear, teeth nipping and biting anywhere they can, “if you’re a good fuckin’ slut for daddy, maybe he’ll reward you with his cock, because you and I both know that’s what my girl wants is her daddy’s thick cock splittin’ her in fuckin’ half. Ain’t that right, baby love?”

“YES!” You yelled, voice strained and on the verge of cracking as you started to roll your hips back against his hand, meeting the harsh thrusts of his fingers just as the back gate opened—

“Hey! I brought the Modelos—OH FUCK!” Tommy yelled in surprise, nearly dropping the case of beer in his arms at the sight of you coming undone around Joel’s fingers.

“GOD DAMMIT, TOMMY! I FUCKIN’ SAID YOU COULDN’T COME OVER!” Joel snapped, thrusting his fingers faster as he briefly glanced over his shoulder at his brother, “can’t ya damn well see I’m a little busy punishin’ my girl for bein’ a fuckin’ brat?!”

You weakly waved in Tommy’s direction, before completely giving into the pleasure with a blissed out look plastered on your face, “pass me one of those when we’re done! I’m parched!”

“Yeah, you’re fuckin’ parched alright.” Joel growled against your ear.

“Some things never change, ain’t that right Artie?” Tommy snickered as he attempted to crouch down and pet her, but she hissed and swatted at his hand.

“TOMMY!” Joel snapped, using his freehand to push his swim trunks over his hips so that he could replace his fingers with his cock. “Make yourself useful and gimme one of those beers, would ya!” He spit into his palm as his cock sprang free and slapped up against his stomach. He gave the base of his cock a few quick pumps before he slipped his fingers out of you, your pussy made a wet squelching noise as he slowly fed you his cock, inch by inch, stretching you open till he was bottomed out with his hips firmly pressed against your ass. The float had deflated considerably, but man, it was a trooper.

Tommy walked over, beer in hand, doing his best to not smirk at the scene unfolding before him as he held the beer out in Joel’s direction. “What did she do this time?” He mused.

Joel snatched the beer from his hand, twisting the cap off with his teeth before he took a swig, bringing his freehand down against your ass.

“I called him—fuck.” You moaned deeply, lip harshly taken between your teeth when he stretched you open. God, did you love your man’s cock.

“She called me a fuckin’ pussy.” Joel snapped his hips forward with his hand acting as an anchor around your hip. He took another swig from the bottle, blunt fingernails digging into your skin, “now fuck yourself on daddy’s cock like the good little slut that you are, baby love.”

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