#husband!joel | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

joelsdagger · 2 months ago

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a love so fine || one shot

joel miller x f!reader

for my girl, @dinandwhiskey, happy belated birthday babe! ily so dearly. massive shout out to my beloveds, @phoeberidgers and @pedrospatch for being my eyes, my brain and my heart, without them, i am equivalent to the tin man (they also keep me sane) <33

pairing: jackson joel x f!reader summary: an evening in with your husband helps to quiet the brain noise. warnings: jackson era [around tlou part ii timeline], canon divergent [golfing doesn’t happen and everyone is happy and thriving bc i said so], implied age gap [no specific age for reader but joel is late 50’s], established relationship, HUSBAND joel, DOMESTIC JOEL, sickly-sweet fluff, reader can’t cook [i swear i can], pet names [baby, sweet baby, darlin’, (1) use of the word kiddo, an excessive amount of the use of the word “baby” bc i can’t seem to help myself], JOEL IN A THIGH HOLSTER, dirty talk, unprotected p in v sex, biiiiiiig breeding kink [ruh roh], joel says dagum bc he’s old, hint of a mama kink, praise kink, (1) (2) (3) uses of the word “daddy”, smidgen of begging + teasing, a bit of mocking, angst in the form of internal turmoil [duh it’s me what did you expect], feelings of inadequacy + guilt/shame, hurt/comfort, tinge of sex as a coping mechanism, soft emotional smut, finger sucking, oral [m!receiving], cock and ball worship [girl’s got a big oral fixation let her live], hand kink, blink and you miss subby!joel, switch reader, hint of dacryphilia, gentle–turned–semi–rough sex, soft dom!joel, mean!joel [but the sexy kind], prone bone, doggy style, hair pulling, light spanking, creampie, size kink [joel is huuuge and big and strong and at one point lifts reader onto a counter], & reader has hair long enough to grab. word count: 6.4k dividers by @saradika-graphics

masterlist || ao3 || follow @joelsdaggerupdates for notifs!!

gorgeous moodboard by @here-briefly

Cold air whimpers into the house as Joel steps through the front door when you’re pulling the semi-burnt meat pies out of the oven, the cold nip blanketed by the heat emanating from the cavity. You set them aside, and turn your attention to the pot of soup on the burner, your mom’s old family recipe, when you’re greeted by Joel’s figure materializing behind you. Broad palms splay across the expanse of your back, big, thick arms wrapping around your middle, shivering at the cold bite of his cheek against yours. You sink into his embrace, allowing him to feed off of your warmth.

“Was patrol okay?” you ask, unfocused as your eyes scan over the creased paper for what feels like the hundredth time in the last two hours.

His chin dips. Snow dusts from his head onto your shoulder. “Was fine. Couple of stragglers. Took care of them,” scruff of his face scratches at your neck as he nuzzles into your skin. “You’re home early.”

You hum, your free hand drifts to meet his.“Surprisingly slow day at the clinic. Closed up by six, the staff booked it to the bar afterward.” You tilt your head to rest against his, basking in the crisp scent of snow, pine, and gunpowder on him, one you’ve come to recognize as home.

“Y’didn’t wanna go with them?” he asks, thumb stroking over your stomach.

“Nah, the clinic kicked me on my ass today. Wanted to come home, make somethin’ nice for us,” you say, reaching over the stovetop, turning the rusted knob up a few notches, flame sizzling beneath the pot.

“Already got my something nice,” he purrs, dips his nose into your hair, reveling in the scent of your shampoo as he presses two kisses in quick succession to your temple, broad hands retreating and sneaking into your jean pockets over your ass, squeezing as he leans in to nip at your carotid.

You shrug him off in jest. “Alright, slow your roll, cowboy. You’re pulling my focus here.” His chest rumbles with a laugh against you.

“This one’s still giving you trouble, huh?” his lips pressed up against the shell of your ear as he peers over your shoulder.

You set the wooden spoon aside, opting to let the broth simmer, flavors marry that way. “I just don’t get how she did it. I’ve tried it about a million times. It never comes out right,” you sigh exasperatedly.

He chuckles. “Honey, you’ve been cooking all of what? Five seconds? This recipe’s been in your family for years. Cut yourself some slack here, baby.” He leans against the counter and crosses his arms.

You can’t help rolling your eyes because this isn’t your first attempt. You’re exhausted and hungry, and you know Joel is too. You’re more than capable at work, cleaning up blood from surface wounds, expertly wrapping the occasional tourniquet, extracting bullets lodged in patrollers without even blinking. But in this slice of your life, you know you could be doing more.

He doesn’t hesitate, head wobbles a bit, right shoulder tips, “I know it’s a lot to ask of ya,” he says softly.

You huff slightly. “Alright, alright, enough,” sparing him a quick glance, picking up the spoon again.

“Give it here,” he attempts, fingers motioning to hand over the spoon. You scold him in turn, reluctant to seek his help, something else you seem unable to forgo despite the world going to shit.

“Alright,” he starts, as he moves to wrap his strong arms around your waist. “You. Sit here,” he sets you down on the countertop beside the stove.

“Joooeeel,” you protest and begin shifting your weight in readiness to hop off the countertop.

“Nah–” Joel puts his palm up, intercepting your movements.

You roll your eyes but don’t fight him again, fingers curl under the countertop, legs dangling from the edge as you watch him swirl the wooden spoon in the soup. You bite your lip, a knot curling in your chest. Domesticity is a nice look on him. You often tell him as much, but this time you don’t. “Oh – don’t tell me you can cook now. Much less my own family recipe. You can do everything else, can I have this one damn thing.”

His eyes crinkle at the corners, and mouth tugs up. “Says the doctor who spends all her time fixin’ up everyone else in this town. Could probably do it in your sleep.” He spoons the soup, pinching a sliced carrot in the bowl of the spoon, testing its tenderness.

“Alright, but if you burn it, we gotta eat at the community hall again.” You lean back, your head resting against the cabinet.

He lifts the spoon to his lips, eyes closing as he savors the bite and swallows. “You even taste it? ‘Cause it’s pretty darn good, sweetheart.”

When you don’t respond, he dips his index finger into the pot, strides over to you, and slants himself in between your legs. He taps the bottom of your lip. “Open up,” he commands softly.

You do as he says and close your lips around the digit and hum.

A balanced blend of rich sweetness and delicious saltiness with a hint of tang on the finish dances on your taste buds.

He’s right; it’s pretty good. But you don’t revel in it. Your mind focused on Joel’s lips parting at the sight, his eyes trained on your lips around his finger. You watch him, your lips curving into a smirk as he removes his index finger, swiped clean, and replaces it with his thumb, pushing past your lips and onto your tongue.

One of your hands instinctively reaches up to wrap around his wrist, his head dips slightly lower, lips only a hairsbreadth from yours, woodsy-salty taste of him and the heat from the burner melding together, clouding your mind. You feel the hitch in his breath against your lips, black slowly taking up the hazel hues in his eyes as they stay trained on your mouth, sucking his thumb.

“Good girl,” he whispers softly, almost casually.

You preen at his praise. Teeth barely grazing the pad of his thumb. You can feel the bulge against your belly, sitting firm between layers and layers of clothing, growing more and more evident with every passing second his thumb stays pressed into your mouth.

You release his thumb with a soft pop, biting back a grin, your hand reaching up to card your fingers through his too-long hair, “tastes good.”

You both know you’re not just talking about the soup.

You tuck a curl behind his ear. The corner of his mouth tugs up, and his thumb traces the shape of your lips, lustful eyes focused on yours as his soft lips envelop yours, the hairs of his mustache tickling your face. You giggle into his mouth. Then both his hands cradle your face, the metal of his wedding band bitingly cold against your cheek, you shiver.

Your finger hooks into the holster on his thigh, drawing him in, grinning when you feel the tightness behind his jeans, rock solid, and throbbing. You grind upwards, rolling your clothed cunt against his bulge, a deep groan pours from his mouth into yours. Arousal clouds your senses as you fuse your body to his, nails digging into the leather of his strap, lungs fighting for air between heavy pants until—

A loud sputtering sound from beside you forces you apart, and your heads dart towards the stove.

Shit shit shit.

You hastily hop down from the counter, lunging for the knob, your other hand simultaneously pulling the pot off the burner.

You let out a sigh of relief, “Thank God. It’s not burnt. Think it’s ready if you wanna eat now, or do you wanna run through the shower first?” you ask over your shoulder.

Joel huffs out a quiet laugh, places a firm hand on the small of your back as he reaches for the tethered cabinet above your head, “let’s eat darlin.’”

—

You’d been glancing to and fro between your sketchbook and Joel propped up beside you with a book in bed for the last fifteen or so minutes. The soft glow from the lamp on the nightstand to your left, capturing his features just right for you to doodle them as accurately as you can.

His post shower hair combed back into soft waves, tucked behind his ears and down his neck. It’s getting quite long; curls threaten to slip into the collar of his sleep shirt. He’s long overdue for a trim really, but you love it this way. He won’t admit it, and you won’t remind him, so it stays.

A thin pair of old rimless reading glasses are perched on the scarred bridge of his nose. He’s got his free hand stretched out and resting on the top of your thigh beneath the covers, thumb slowly stroking your skin — always needing to touch you. The hour is quiet. Peaceful. You could stay like this forever with him; bellies full and freshly showered, in bed before ten. If he’ll still have you.

His other hand props up the book holding his attention. An Idiot’s Guide to Space, reads the broken purple spine. The book so small in his big hands. Heat blooms in your chest for the second time, the first when he pulled it out of his nightstand an hour prior. Something he does at the end of each night.

Joel found it on patrol one morning. He kept it to himself at first, tucked away in his top drawer, until you stumbled upon it while putting his folded clothes away. A freshly showered Joel emerged from the bathroom, Ellie’s always goin’ on and on about space. Ain’t got a damn clue about any of it, he admitted shyly.

Sometimes he’ll blurt out a fact or two while you’re in bed or padding out of the bathroom. His voice cutting through your reverie –

“Baby, says here you could cross the damn Milky Way in twelve fuckin’ years. Did you know that?” he chances a glance at you.

You chuckle at him. “Yes, I did know that, baby,” shaking your head a little.

“Shit. So it’s just me with the two of you experts?” he asks with a laugh.

You smile to yourself. You don’t tell him that Ellie's the one who told you that little tidbit.

You tuck your pen between the pages and close your sketchbook, laying it on the small table beside you, “We’ll get you there someday, baby,” you tease.

Joel snorts, reaching for your arm and tucking you into his side. You rest your head on his chest, his fingertips softly brushing the skin of your arm. “Quit yankin’ my chain, ‘cause baby, you got no idea what you’re playin’ at.”

Oh. But you do.

You peer up at him, studying the hard lines in his face and the soft gray shadows under his eyes from exhaustion, too much violence.

You shift to dip your head lower down the curve of his belly. Your hand traces a line down his middle, following the thickening trail of hair down his supple belly, slipping beneath the covers, fingertips grazing the outline of his length over gray sweats, hand cupping his semi-hard cock.

Joel flinches, glasses jolt. It spurs you on.

You palm him through his pants, and he hisses through clenched teeth.

“Whaddya doin’ down there, kiddo?” he asks tersely, his gaze lifting over the top of his glasses.

Heat rises to your cheeks. That damn pet name. One that he uses more often these days, when you’re being a pain in his ass. The one that reminds you just how much older he is.

Liquid heat pools between your thighs.

You gaze up at him, “I just wanna play with him a little. Is that okay?” Falsely innocent eyes sparkling, your fingers circling the head of his cock over his pants.

He makes a low sound, and stirs. “Darlin’ if I ever say no to you, you take my revolver n’ use it on me.” A hint of playfulness in his tone.

You giggle softly. “As fun as that would be, cowboy, that’d deprive me of my happiness,” fingers pulling the blanket and his sweats down in one fluid motion, revealing his hardening cock.

Deft fingers now stroking through your hair. “Lemme guess. That happiness got more to do with my dick than anythin’ else?” he asks, lips curling with a soft laugh.

You don’t respond, you suspect the smirk that quirks your lips is answer enough for him. Your head dips lower; grabbing the full length of him in both of your hands — so fucking big. Your lips close around the wide head, and you hum.

He rests the book on his stomach, tucks an arm behind his head, and watches you as you get to work on his length. You pull your lips off him. “You want me to continue? You better keep readin’ that book of yours, Miller,” you say firmly.

A blush creeps up his thick neck; watch as his Adam’s apple bops in his throat. “Yes, ma’am,” raising the book again and continuing where he left off.

Satisfied, you shift to move down the mattress, the sheets moving with you and bunching at the foot of the bed.

Your mouth gets back to work on his cock, now fully stiff in your grasp, head swollen and flushed red. Your lips curling around it, your other hand wrapped around the base, fingers barely wrapping around the thick girth of him. You lathe a wet kiss to the tip, and then suction the mushroom shape of him hard, an obscene sound filling the quiet of your bedroom. The heavy weight of him pulses and leaks onto the pink softness of your tongue. You lap up the salty precum leaking at the slit and in your periphery, catch Joel fisting the corner of your pillow. He’s panting, shaky breaths escape him while he attempts to read. You smirk around him. He likes it like this; slow, lazy – sloppy.

Your gaze drops back down as you pull off him and dip your head down to his low-hanging balls, heavy and already set to burst. You take one in your mouth, the tip of your tongue slowly draws circles along the thin, stretchy flesh, while your other hand slowly pumps the long length of him. You feel a strong hand meeting the back of your skull, fingers sewn through the strands of your hair, his muscles beneath you tightening.

You feel the heat of his gaze, almost impossible to ignore, it urges you on. Your other hand cups his other ball, gently fondling the heavy weight of it, fingers gently twiddling the skin. You suckle softly at his sac, eliciting a strained whimper from Joel, his hips cant upwards, cock twitching in your face.

“Fuckin’ love them,” you whisper, turning your attention to the other, laying a soft kiss on the underside of his ball. That one is just for you.

“Yeah?” he exhales. “Keep goin’ then, baby,” fingers curling around the back of your neck, instructing you with the faintest bit of pressure.

Your eyes glance up in time to find him dragging his other hand down his face, book now stacked haphazardly upon the others on his side table. His glasses sit low on the tip of his nose, eyes shut tight, dark brows pinched. All his features meld together in pleasure as he loses himself in you.

You asked him to continue reading but you can’t deny this is what you wanted all along. He looks beautiful like this; in the soft golden glow in the bedroom, tan sun-freckled skin all bare for you, mouth ajar and chest heaving with ragged breaths, veins in his neck thick and prominent as his chin tilts upward. The sight makes you ache.

You never minded this. Matter of fact, you love it. Giving. Taking care of him, encouraging him to chase after something he wants. You never used to enjoy it before but Joel Miller so rarely takes. So rarely selfish. And seeing strong, stoic men, your man, come apart for you just from your mouth makes you rub your thighs together to soothe the brimming ache.

Joel Miller – the man who despite the kinder, slower years spent in Jackson and never once hesitating to lend a hand to those in need, who still had a mean reputation, allowing himself to revel in the feeling of you taking care of him. The hard lines of his usual scowl gone from his face and replaced with twisted lines of pleasure. Letting himself take take take and being shameless in doing so.

You suck hard on the ball in your mouth and he moans loudly, feel it draw up between your lips. “Oh – fuck – that’s good,” his head topples back against the headboard with a hard thud, “so good,” he breathes.

Your clothed core tightens, feel the ruined material cling to your lips.

And because you can. You pull off him and give the head of his cock a little wet kiss.

You blink up at him to find him watching you with bated breath, hazel eyes blown completely black. You gather saliva beneath your tongue, let a strand drool, and land directly on his slit. Joel’s entire body shivers, hips thrusting upwards into the air on instinct, his fingers in your hair tighten, blunt fingertips digging into your heated skin. “Dagum you’re good at that, baby.”

You smile and pump the length of him slowly, twisting upwards and running your thumb over his tip. Your mouth retakes its place on his length, lips stretching open around the bulbous head as you ease your head lower and lower on his length, pushing him in, in, in past your gag reflex. Tears prick at your eyes, pushing him in until his cock coaxes the back of your throat; you gag around him, and Joel groans raggedly at the sound. He loves it. You lift your head and hum around him as you begin bopping your head up and down the length of him, your fist pumps what you can’t fit into your mouth. And Joel whimpers, and jerks, hips canting to meet every bob and every stroke, every lick and every kiss.

A tear cascades down your cheek when you swallow, the silken walls of your throat tighten around him, and at that, Joel makes a pained noise. “Get up here,” he growls, his hand drawing your mouth off him.

You prop yourself up, shove up his shirt to lay wet kisses up the trail of his graying hair. Your mouth dips left of his belly button, pecking the deep scar, an unwelcome reminder of his fall that nearly ended in fatality.

Your lips press a kiss south of his belly button before you tongue at it. You feel the muscles in his belly quiver beneath the softness of your tongue, goosebumps ghosting his skin, your hand still wrapped around the thick girth of him — it pulses in your grasp. “Fuck– You’re gonna make me come,” he tugs at your neck again, dragging you up to straddle his lap.

“That’s kind of the point here, baby,” you say as you pepper the whiskered corners of his mouth in little kisses. “I wanted you to come in my mouth.” You brush your lips against his, and he chuckles. The hand still at the base of your neck holds you there as his tongue sneaks into your mouth, licks along the line of your gums to taste the salty flavor of himself, you moan in unison.

He’s still panting when your fingers run through his tousled hair, feeling droplets of sweat at his temple. You kiss at the shadows under his eyes, glasses long forgotten somewhere. Joel’s tongue flicks the corner of his lips, thumbs away the tear beneath your eye then at the thin string of saliva clinging to the skin on your chin and he presses another quick peck to your lips, and against your lips.

“You look so goddamn sexy like this,” he whispers softly, before pushing his lips to yours once again.

You smile against him. “That mean I can continue?” you whisper.

You feel his lips twitch, he peels your shirt from your body, then his, and then his hands find your hips, swiftly flipping you over, his broad form towering over you. “Got another idea, little mama.”

“Like what daddy,” dropping your voice at the word “daddy”. You’ve never thought to try the nickname out but you know you’ve plucked a chord when you feel his cock twitch between your bodies and you’re mentally kicking yourself that you’ve waited this long.

Who knew Joel Miller, at the ripe old age of fifty-nine would realize he had a daddy kink.

A low growl slips from his lips, “say it again.”

You bite back a grin that threatens to pull over your lips, your chest blooming at the thought of Joel Miller growing so comfortable with you that he’s unashamed in asking you for things that make him feel good. You want nothing more than to give that to him, so you do.

“What are you gonna do with me, daddy?” you ask, feigning seriousness.

“Might need to stuff that slutty mouth of yours again,” the amber in his eyes so warm and filled with lust.

You shrug, exaggerate a sigh, “I wouldn’t complain.”

He shakes his head but you catch the creases around his eyes, feel the low chuckle reverberate through the slats of his ribs.

“No, you wouldn’t,” he begins and his fingers hook around the waistband of your panties, “but like I said, I’ve got other plans for you tonight.”

“And what exactly do those plans entail, daddy?” you ask, your fingers ghost over his shoulders, up his neck and into his dampened temples. A smirk tugging the corner of your lips at the slow drag of your underwear down your legs.

He doesn’t answer. His hand cups your mound, feels the sticky wet at your opening, your body jolts at the first fleeting sliver of attention your hungry cunt’s received all night. “Pussy’s this wet all ‘cause you blowin’ me, hm? You like it that much, baby?” He cocks his head, a smug grin plastered on his face.

A blissful sigh falls from your lips, he encourages you further when he guides the head of his cock to your messy pussy.

You arch and squirm and moan on instinct, the agonizingly slow drag of his cock through your puffy folds meticulous in measured movements. Your head falls back, fists clenching, pussy fluttering, and Joel just smirks.

“Yeah she likes that, don’t she?” he asks, his hazel eyes burning into yours.

Your heart falls. A wanton moan slips past your lips. You want to respond. You do. But you can’t ignore that sudden, all too familiar spike of fear beginning to flare in your chest.

His hand cups your chin almost immediately. Joel knows you all too well. Before you even know it yourself, he sees it in the storms in your eyes, the slight tremble of your fingers, the sudden rapid rise and fall of your chest. Joel’s observant, always functioning on high alert. He’s helped you through moments like this over the years, and both of you thought they were long gone. But the guilt and shame claw their way back tonight, decidedly paying a visit.

“Hey. Stay with me, honey,” he implores, brows pinching.

Unbidden tears prickle your eyes. Your eyes slip shut. I can’t. You want to say. It’s too much. The sharp blackening teeth of shame sinking into your skin, gnawing a hole low in your belly. How do you tell your husband that even after six years together you’re still afraid to put yourself first. Afraid that if you do, he’ll abandon you just as everybody else has. How do you tell him that even though he’s never shown you he has any intention of doing so, you’ve made yourself believe that he will. That small noise in your brain ugly, rotten. And no matter how hard you try you can never seem to quiet it. How do you tell him that all you want is for him to fuck you. So hard he brings you to tears. To quiet the noise. Stamp out the flame. But you can’t seem to form the words. Can’t bring yourself to tell him and maybe even worse, you still don’t understand why after all these years spent with him. I don’t know how.

He hinges forward, broad form crowding yours into the mattress, hands find yours beside your head, a soft clink ricochets in your ears when the metal of your wedding bands meet.

“Talk to me, baby, what is it?” he whispers, his cock still gliding through your lower lips.

“I–” your stammering cuts off into a soft whine, eyes flittering.

“What?” He cocks his head, warm breath fanning across your face.

Your guilt-ridden mind screaming at you to scramble for words. To get him to understand. Little do you know, he does. Has for a long time. Your past often makes you forget. Here. In the now, he reminds you.

“I can’t–” you sigh when he kisses the corner of your mouth, “Joel– I–”

“I– I– I–” Joel mocks above you. “Can’t use your words cause you’re only thinking of my cock ain’t ya?”

You keen at that, cheeks bloom. He’s right. Only you rarely ask for it.

“Always want it, but you never ask for it. Been your husband for two years and I still oughta show you I ain’t ever leavin’, is that it?”

You mewl all petulant and small.

He reaches to bring your left hand to his mouth, pressing a fleeting kiss to the cold metal of your wedding band. “Y’know m’all yours, sweetheart. Haven’t I shown you?” He presses another kiss to the band. “Or these mean nothin’ to ya?” A hint of smirk passes over his lips as he lays a third kiss to your fingers, your skin ablaze.

They mean everything to you. He means everything to you. The words die on your tongue but he knows. He’s only teasing you because he needs to hear it, needs to hear that honey sweet giggle to bring you back to him. And although you wish he didn’t have to, you can’t deny that his persistent efforts make you feel just as desirable as the day he slanted his mouth over yours and made you his forever. Long before solemn vows and makeshift wedding venues. Before ratty ‘his and hers’ bath towels and engraved silver bands. He claimed you as his and he as yours and even still, it doesn’t seem to be enough. Your mind slips and the pulp of his forefinger traces down your sternum, follows the line of your stomach, goosebumps rising in its wake.

“Joel–” you giggle quietly, and his eyes gleam.

“Ah. There she is,” he says so softly in that honey Texan drawl that makes your stomach fall away.

His hand flattens, broad palm drifts down the softness of your belly and settles beneath your navel, the cold bite of his wedding finger making you quiver.

His dark eyes flicker. “How about I really fill you up? Hm?” His hand drifts further south, grips the root of his cock between your bodies, glides the underside of his cock, featherlight, through your swollen lips, the angry red almost purple tip bumps your throbbing clit before he slides it back down through your folds, letting the head catch at your drooling hole. “You wanted to know what I plan on doin’ to ya? M’gettin’ my wife pregnant. Give my sweet baby a baby? Would you like that?”

The rest of what he wants to say lingers on the tip of his tongue, mulling around in his mouth, show you, I ain’t goin’ nowhere.

Your breath hitches, eyes go wide. Your thoughts are clouded by him. Your belly swelling, carrying your child. His child. Yes. Yes. Yes. You want it. You want it with him.

You breathe out a desperate moan, “God, yes. Joel. Yes.”

His cock, heavy and thick, still glides through your messy folds, the head of his cock catching, catching, catching at your hole, coating his length in webs of your slick. The sweet sound of your wet echoing loudly in your shared bedroom.

“That sound like I wanna leave you?” He asks gruffly.

You shake your head vigorously, your hips canting upwards, chasing after him.

You hiss when his tip bumps your clit. You pout at him. “Joel. You’re being mean–” your words tapering off into a soft sob.

He laughs at that, presses the incredibly wide head in, then back out and up again, “Not being mean, baby. Just tryna get you outta your head s’all.” And he says it like it’s the easiest thing in the world. Like breathing. Your chest swells. He’s right fucking there. Right in front of you. But it seems as if there is no end in sight for the longing you feel for him.

“You want it? You oughta ask for it nice, sweet baby,” he says simply.

Your pout grows more petulant, but you concede. You’re always the first to let up between the two of you. You’re easy for him that way.

“Joel, please fuck me. Need you to fuck me, please,” you plead, words slipping into a soft moan.

His eyes scan your face, feel his lashes flutter against your skin. He lines himself up at the opening of your cunt. “I will. I always fuck you well don’t I?”

You nod numbly, biting your lip and guiltily averting your gaze. Finger tracing up a line up his strong thigh, over his soft belly that protrudes over his still hard cock, circle the scarred tissue on his lower abdomen.

He takes your hand in his, lays a kiss to your palm before settling it to cradle his own face. “M’gonna fuck you real good, sweetheart. Remind you how good you are for me.”

You make a soft sound that halts his movements, fingers squeezing his. “I want it hard, Joel,” you say. And he nods in understanding. Always meeting you where you are. There’s no halfway with him. He sits back, gently taps the side of your thigh, turn around.

You do as silently requested and twist; your stomach and chest meet the sheets, body prone on the mattress — your favorite way of taking him.

He presses his body weight into you, his entire form enveloping yours while his hand dips south to line himself up. He thrusts forward, moaning in unison as he breaches and stretches you wide, quelling the ache when he fills your cunt in one sharp thrust. He bites your shoulder on instinct, and your eyes pinch shut in response. Joel sets a blistering pace that has your cunt constricting around him. His soft belly is flush to the small of your back, feel the sweat sliding between your bodies, welcome tears spill from your eyes, and the guilt that sat in the pit of your belly turns molten.

“That’s it, thatta’girl,” he grits into the dampened space behind your ear.

His words make you clench, and in response, his hand finds the nape of your neck, fingers curling and smothering your face into the mattress, and you practically sing for him in return. Your legs clamp shut, limiting the space he has to fuck into you and he groans so beautifully for you. His hand sneaks around your front, scrubs expertly at your throbbing clit, and your vision begins to blur, fists clutching the linens so tight you’re tearing them.

“Oh god, Joel,” you cry out, the intense pleasure beginning to overwhelm you.

“That’s it–fuck–” he grunts, “make–me–so damn–happy, baby–fuck, never—never–known it before you,” Joel rasps, punctuating every word with a sharp thrust.

You mewl and writhe beneath him in tandem, and then his massive hand grips your face, angles it towards him so your lips meet his, his index finger in your mouth, hooked behind the line of your gums to take take take. Your body jolts as his cock kisses your womb on every brutal thrust.

“Joel, harder, please, harder,” you beg against his lips. So fucking desperate for more.

He pulls out suddenly; a lewd, wet squelch of gaping emptiness escapes your cunt when it closes around his absence. He takes you with him, collecting you in his arms and moving the two of you up the bed and guiding you to your knees, facing the headboard. His chest fuses to your back again, knuckles brushing the globe of your ass as he parts the flesh to sink into you once more. Your head topples back onto his shoulder, buries his face into the crook of your neck, muffling the guttural moan that elicits from him as you take him deeper.

He lays a harsh slap to your ass, then firmly grips the plush flesh, soothing the sting with a rough squeeze. And then, his right hand finds a home on your hips, dull fingertips digging into your lush flesh. Your head turns, mouth meeting the hinge of his jaw. Your right hand reaches for his scalp, carding a hand through his sweaty curls to pull him closer as you babble breathlessly, fuck–I lo–I love you. I love you, Joel. Joel. Joel. Joel.

He chants in turn, I love you, baby, my sweet baby. I’m not goin’ anywhere. M’not. I swear it, branding each word with messy kisses to your temple. His left hand interlocks with yours, wedding bands clinking, kissing at the close. Your cunt flutters around him when he recites the same words he groaned into your waiting mouth on your wedding night, God, you’re so good for me. S’ you n’ me sweetheart. You n’ me. Always and forever.

His hand releases your right hip, fingers tangling painfully into your hair at the base of your neck, pulling on the strands to drag your mouth to his. He slants his plush lips to yours, a deep groan pours from his mouth into yours when you squeeze around him. His cock grazes that spongy spot he made his long ago, and your hips push back, meeting him thrust for thrust, wanting more. His thrusts grow harsher, faster, stronger, until pain and pleasure coalesce. The pressure of his massive, unrelenting length battering your wasted cunt makes the room spin, vision waning.

“Give it to me, baby. Come with me. I got you darlin’,” he chants as he pounds into you. “Let go for me, honey. C’mon. Show me you’re mine. Need to feel this pussy come for me. Let go, Let go.”

Your walls pulse and Joel moans, low and breathy, something deep in his chest crumbling. You feel his cock jerk inside you, desperate and holding holding holding for you to meet him there. His teeth nip your ear and it’s all it takes for you to fall apart. Your navel tenses, cunt fluttering around his length, as you come with loud broken moans of his name, and he swallows them with deep groans of yours. He breaks, his fist slamming against the oil painting above the bed while he empties himself inside you, his cock spitting his cum at the mouth of your womb.

Your body goes limp against the painting, thighs still trembling against his, his body going lax against yours. Your head drops forward; tacky skin of your forehead meets the sticky surface with a soft thud. Joel groans lowly against your neck, chest heaving as he sears wet kisses to the top of your spine as he comes down.

You stay like that for a while. When Joel’s chest stops heaving, he rolls off you, and when your breathing slowly returns, you flop to the mattress by his side.

You turn to face him, your chest sticking to his, tacky skin glistening with sweat in the moonlight from the window across the room.

He cradles the side of your face in his palm, the pad of his thumb wipes away the tears before pressing it into your mouth. You nip at it gently on instinct, and Joel laughs.

“I don’t got another round in me tonight, baby,” voice throaty and gruff. You giggle and call him an old man.

And he grumbles something that sounds a lot like, m’not that old. To which you quip, whatever you say, grumpy old man.

Joel scoffs. “Yet you still like suckin’ this old man’s cock, ain’t that right, sweetheart?” His hand tracing a line up and down your spine.

You hum blissfully.

A beat passes, and with a smirk on his lips, his hand wanders to your drippy slit, you whine when he dips two fingers inside your cunt — still sore and puffy, still gaping.

He presses deep, the cold nip of his wedding ring inside your cunt making you jolt. “Thought you said you couldn’t go another round, old man?” You say, a little breathless.

His wicked smirk broadens. “I did. That don’t mean the same for you though.”

A gush of his cum pours out of you, coating his ring in your joint mess as his fingers pump in and out of your gaping emptiness.

He grunts and pulls you on top of him. “I said I'd give you a baby, didn’t I? I intend on keepin’ my promise. We oughta make sure it takes”.

For hours, Joel made no effort to pull out of you. He fucked into your used, wet heat with his fingers. And he didn’t stop. Not until the snowflakes sprinkling outside your window turned into darts of rain that softly pelted against the glass. Not until the swirl of pale gray and muted blue in the sky washed away into a blush of dusty pink and petal violet, the sun splitting the clouds on the horizon, a sliver of sun peeking between the curtains and spilling across worn sheets, shrouding your silhouette in a soft golden light. And maybe just maybe, this time, it’ll finally take. And with it, maybe that flame of fear is snuffed for good. Always and forever

#the way i rewrote this so many times it gave me carpal tunnel #so not cool #anyway ciao!#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #jackson!joel x reader #husband!joel #game!joel miller #joel miller fic #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction #noelle's workshop

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honeyedmiller · 1 year ago

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Clouded | Joel Miller

husband!joel miller x wife!reader

rating: 18+, minors dni

warnings: use of marijuana, reader and joel both get high, smut (unprotected piv, two ass slaps, somewhat dirty talk??, brief nipple play, cock warming, joel is touchy), the adlers hate the millers in this one probably, she/her pussy pronouns, a tiny bit of fluff, joel is corny af and makes corny ass jokes (ofc cus what else would he do). let’s pretend that’s joel and not javi in the pic above just for the sake of this horny mess of a fic, cool? cool. no use of y/n.

word count: 1.2k

a/n: idk. this was just pure brainrot what can i say

synopsis: saturdays are meant for errands and chores. joel convinces you otherwise just for once.

Saturday mornings were meant for running errands and cleaning the house. At least, that’s what you and your husband agreed to.

But today was different. Today, it started off with Joel mumbling ‘five more minutes’ into your shoulder, hands roaming around your body to feel your bare flesh beneath his calloused palms.

He eventually made his way down to your clit, rubbing slow, lazy circles into you while you ground your ass into his stiff cock.

It was nice. The change of pace was something you were relishing, even if it was short-lived.

You grabbed his hand from underneath the sheets, bringing his middle finger to your mouth to suck on the tip. He groaned when you bit the pad of his finger, and you couldn’t help but giggle at his reaction.

“So needy, Mr. Miller.” You teased, twisting your head so your gaze could lock on his.

His usual honey brown eyes had darkened, pooling with pure lust and desire as his hands gently wrapped around your throat. His thumb and forefinger lifted your jaw up so your lips could easily slot between his, biting your bottom lip as he pulled apart from you.

“What I need is my pretty wife on top ‘a me. Show me how a real cowgirl rides it.” He winks, and you can’t help but laugh at his corny joke.

But still, you oblige. Who were you to say no to being deliciously filled up by your husband’s cock?

You twist out of his grasp and swing a leg over him, straddling his hips. He instinctively grabs onto your waist and slowly guides you down over his erection.

You needed him badly, but you just had to tease him first. Your already-slick cunt settled on top of his cock, and you started to rock your hips slowly to coat his length in your slick.

You both moaned at the contact, Joel closing his eyes as he clenched that familiar muscle in his jaw. His eyes snapped open as he felt you shift your weight above him, watching you lean over to pull something out of your nightstand drawer.

You pulled out the half finished pre-roll you and him had smoked a few nights prior along with the neon green bic lighter stashed to the side. You shoot him a wicked grin before slotting the joint between your lips and flicking the lighter a couple of times before the end of the joint starts to crackle.

You deeply inhale as you stare down at Joel, tossing the lighter onto your nightstand before you grab his length with your hand. You tease yourself with the tip of his cock, a shiver running down your spine as you finally allow yourself to sink down onto him.

Joel plucks the joint from your lips and slots it between his own, groaning at the sensation of your warmth completely enveloping him.

You use both of your hands to grab his thighs behind you to hold yourself upright, smoke escaping your lungs as you let out a strangled moan.

It didn’t matter how many times you two had fucked—the stretch was always something that made you gush every single time.

You gave an experimental roll of your hips, lolling your head back in pure pleasure. Joel’s hand skated up your body and squeezed your breast, toying with your nipple between his forefinger and thumb.

You rolled your head back around so you were looking down at him, and he gently grabbed the back of your neck to coax you down. He used his thumb to open your jaw as he blew smoke into your mouth, gripping your other hip so tight that you felt the imprint of his wedding band into your flesh.

“So fuckin’ pretty, baby. My beautiful wife. Can’t believe you’re all mine.” Joel’s voice is soft and sincere, and you lean down to kiss him before taking the joint from him to slot it between your lips once more.

“You’re pretty too, cowboy.” You wink at him and a laugh rumbles from his sturdy chest, slightly shaking you in the process. He gives your ass a light slap, but you moan and roll your hips to the contact.

Joel shoots you a shit-eating smirk before he slaps your ass again, harder this time, and the sting is fucking delicious.

You lowly moan his name as you begin to ride him faster, and his hands easily find home on your hips as you find a steady rhythm.

Nothing but your pants and slick skin slapping on skin reverberates off of your bedroom walls, and you partially think to yourself you should’ve fucking filmed this for later use.

Joel takes the joint from your hands and stubs it out as quickly as he can before his hand rejoins your hip, groaning at how fucking good you feel.

“Jus’ like that baby. So fuckin’ good.”

You whine at his praise, head cloudy with lust and desire as you ride him even faster. Your hips burn and you’re panting hard, feeling that devilish little burn in the depths of your core.

“C’mon baby, I know you’re close. Can feel ya. She’s fuckin’ squeezin’ me so goddamn good.” He continues, and at this point he takes matters into his own hands and starts to fuck up into you.

You cry out in pleasure as you rest your hands on his chest, nails digging little crescent marks into his hot skin.

Your mind was so foggy and all you wanted was for that coil to fucking snap. It was wound up so tight, and Joel’s cock was nudging that perfect spot inside of you. The wiry hairs at the base of his cock added that extra bit of friction, creating the perfect cocktail for a most blissful orgasm.

“Atta girl, there you go baby. I know you wanna fuckin’ come for me.”

And you did. Your body went rigid as your eyes rolled to the back of your skull, legs shaking as you gushed around your husband’s cock.

“Fuckfuckfuck—Joel!” You couldn’t help but scream, not giving a fuck if the neighbors could possibly hear.

Hell, you wanted the whole world to know just how good your husband fucked you.

Your body tingled as he grunted, immediately stilling as he fucked his spend up into you.

You collapsed on top of him, breathing heavy and eyes half-lidded and glossed over in your fucked-out state. You moved to get off of him, but Joel stilled you and wrapped his arms around you, kissing your forehead as he kept you in place.

“Mm mm. Don’ move. This is nice.” He mumbled, kissing your forehead a few more times before you nuzzled your face into his neck, licking his salty skin before giving him a small nibble. You kiss him after, sighing into him as your body felt like it was floating on cloud nine.

“Fuck, what about our errands today?”

“They can be done tomorrow.” He says, eyes closed as he traced patterns onto your back with his fingertips.

“On a Sunday?” You ask, looking up at him. With his eyes still closed, he offered you a lazy grin before giving you a small nod.

“So fuckin’ worth it.”

tags: @nostalxgic @endlessthxxghts @punkshort @ilovepedro @amanitacowboy (this one’s for us lindsey <3)

divider by @saradika-graphics

#joel miller #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #pedro pascal imagines #joel miller x reader #joel miller one shot #joel miller imagines #pedro pascal #joel miller imagine #husband!joel #joel miller fanfic #joel miller fluff

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jobean12-blog · 1 month ago

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My Hero

Pairing: Husband!Joel Miller x female reader

Word Count: ~1K

Summary: Joel comes home from work and no matter how many times he does you’re always the happiest to see him-domestic fluff

Author’s Note: @lizette50 shared the pic below with me and even though it’s from Freaky Tales I thought of husband!Joel bc the wedding ring and overall look works AND RING! Haha always gets me! Thanks my friend for fueling my addictions. Thank you all so much for reading! Much love always❤️❤️❤️divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics thank you Daisy🥰

Warnings: fluff, kisses, sexiness, domestic fluffs, a spider…

The sun dips low in the sky, dusting you in a golden hue as the quiet of dusk settles in the house.

“Darlin?” He whispers, watching as you stir on the couch, the blanket falling from your shoulder.

Your bare skin, like always, looks soft and inviting and he wrestles back a groan.

“What time is it?” You ask as you stretch your legs out.

“Lil’ after seven.”

He slowly approaches and the closer he gets the more goosebumps appear on the slope of your neck, highlighted by the setting sun.

Your teeth sink into your bottom lip and you hold his gaze from under your lashes.

Awareness.

You’re always so fucking aware of him.

He reaches the couch and stands over you, leaning down slightly to trace the curve of your shoulder.

You sit up and he wraps a gentle hand around your throat, lifting your eyes to his with a brush of his thumb just under your chin.

“What did you do all day without me?” He asks.

“Miss you.”

Your hands lift to his belt buckle and with quick ministrations you have it open and the zipper of his jeans pulled down.

He hums and slides his hand from your throat, down to your breast to massage the softness.

When he falls to the couch you move onto his lap and he drags his lips slowly across yours.

“Oh yeah?” He simpers, smiling against your mouth.

Your breathy response is swallowed by his hard kiss, his fingers splaying and sliding along your skin to tug you closer.

Your head falls back to expose your neck and at the drag of his beard along your skin you moan out his name and rock your hips.

With the tilt of your head and your gaze upward you catch sight of something hanging from the ceiling.

At first it looks like a string of dust but when it starts to wiggle and climb you go still and your body tenses.

“Angel?” He asks, immediately removing his mouth from your skin, concern clouding his features.

“Joel.”

“Yeah…?”

“There’s a GIGANTIC spider hanging from the ceiling. Oh my god.”

He chuckles, his nose a soft bump against yours when he whispers, “ain’t nothin’ to fret about.”

You shake your head, tightly gripping the front of his flannel.

“No. Nope. You have to do something!”

He pauses with his lips hovering above yours.

“Now angel?”

“Right now!”

With a pained sigh he lifts you off him and stands, walking toward the door to grab one of his large boots.

“What are you doing?” You ask, your voice rising to a frantic tone.

“Takin’ care of the spider.”

“You can’t kill it!”

He turns to you with a look of disbelief.

“Then what do you want me to do with it? Walk him outside and put him in the garden?”

You swallow and look back at the spider then to Joel.

“Yes please.”

His eyes narrow.

“You ain’t jokin’ darlin’.”

You crawl to the edge of the couch and grab his hips.

“Just put him outside somewhere safe!”

He stares down at you, jaw set in a hard line before his expression softens and he purses his lips.

“Fine.”

He sets down the boot and lifts onto his toes, his open jeans sliding further down his hips to reveal the dark trail of hair below his belly button.

You reach out and trace your fingertips through it, making him wiggle.

“Darlin,” he warns.

You refrain but your eyes never leave the spot, lips wet and parted.

“I can feel you starin’,” he says through a smile.

“Just staying focused on something other than the spider.”

His large hands are delicate as he wraps a thick finger around the silken strand and pulls it off the ceiling.

With sure movements-while also careful not to bring the arachnid too close to you- he heads toward the door.

You get up in a rush and skirt around him to open it. He walks outside and to the garden, bending down to gently set the spider inside a potted plant.

When he stands and turns to you, his pants still undone but a soft smile on his face, you’re overcome with love, rushing out to fall into his arms.

“You’re my hero,” you whisper into his chest.

“Love you angel,” he murmurs. “And that little cockblocker better be happy now.”

#joel miller x reader #pedro pascal #joel miller #husband!joel miller #husband!joel #husband!joel x wife!reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x y/n #joel miller x female reader #joel miller imagine #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal x reader #tlou

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megangovier · 3 months ago

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Cuddles & hot chocolate☕

Pairing: Husband!Joel x f!reader

Summary: You're laid on the bed in a foetal position, hot water bottle resting on your cramping stomach. Joel was downstairs making chili hot chocolate for the both of you.

Warnings: Mentions of periods, positive affirmations, cuddles, fluff, Joel being sweet, age gap (24-30).

Author's note: @toxicanonymity @milla-frenchy @aurorawritestoescape 🩵

It was a dull skied morning in early January, Joel had given you a hot water bottle, pressing it against the cramping area. You Looked up at him, and thanked him. Joel went back downstairs to make you both a silky, creamy hot chocolate with your favourite spices in it. Joel was a sweet man and an even better husband, he took very good care of you and you'd did the same for him. You were the luckiest woman ever to have such a wonderful human in your life.

Sitting up against the headboard, still holding the hot water bottle against your stomach. With one hand you slide a piece of dark chocolate into your mouth. Taking in the taste a small smile appeared onto your face. Closing your eyes you could smell the spices coming from downstairs. It smelt like a chocolate factory, with different spices and types of chocolate.

Opening your eyes, Joel was stood beside you with two very large cups in hand. Taking one from him, you thanked him once again and kissed him sweetly tasting the dark chocolate on your lips he politely asked if he could have one. You smiled and offered him one "thank you honey". Sipping on the velvety goodness, aromas exploded in the air. Chili was your favourite hot chocolate flavour.

Once you both finished your drinks, Joel had wrapped his strong arms around you. Inhaling him in, a warm fuzzy feeling bubbled in your stomach and heart rate went up. Joel never failed to make you feel like you're the only one that matters. His hand was holding yours, looking at the ring he gave you.

A warm glow beamed on his cheeks, he still remembers that exciting day of you becoming his wife. He looked over at the photos with you in a white dress, him beside you holding eachother. A tear strolled down his cheeks, looking up a sad look washed onto your face "what's wrong honey, are you okay?" Wiping his tears away he looked at you and smiled "I'm fine, just blessed to have such a wonderful woman in my life".

"thank you for blessing my life, for being my husband" you said.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x you #Husband!Joel #megangovier22 #joel miller fic #joel miller fluff #joel miller the last of us #joel miller x female reader #the last of us hbo #tlou fic #joel the last of us #tlou fanfiction #the last of us fic

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pennyold · 2 months ago

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honeymoon | j.m

Summary: When your husband wakes you up late at night so that you can please and help him with his hard problem underneath his underwear.

Warnings: p n v, suggestive language, cursing, pregnancy mention, older husband!joel, and I think that’s all; If I miss something, just lemme know!

w.c: 1,111

a/n: I wanna marry him so bad, and also I love that pic of him. Idgaf about the woman who is touching him (I’m literally so jealous) anyways. no proofreading!! Hope u like it, enjoyyy it!!

main masterlist ↲

peace and love, penny ★

We were out of town; we got married two days ago in Cozumel, Mexico. We loved the Mexican beach and the traditions. Joel loved to travel, and he wanted to get married on the beach; that's why we're here.

It's our honeymoon, and both families are still at the resort, so we decided to take our own space. That is to say, we were in our room most of the day, simply going to the beach in the afternoon and eating out of the room every now and then.

Joel was like a piece of gum stuck to me; he couldn't stay away from me. It's not a complaint; I love it when he bombards me with his affection. One night, I woke up at 2:00 am, Joel woke me up, "Darling..." he said and I murmured, and I let out some incoherent words, half-asleep, I turned my head towards him with my eyes still closed, "What...?" I said softly, suddenly feeling him start to rub his body against mine, "Joel..." then he kissed my neck, whispering in my ear: "I need you, princess" he rubbed his heavy breath on my neck and made my whole body feel warm "Mmh" I moaned softly, moving my hips against his crotch, noticing his bulge "I'm so hard, would you help me?" Joel whispered, rubbing his hard cock against my ass.

Now, wake up, I touched his bulge feeling his cock, hard and thick. Then I squeezed it, and he groaned, "Shit." Joel took my shirt, pulling the hem up towards the top of my chest, exposing my breasts. "I love your tits, a lot," I smiled. "Yeah? Do you like them?” He nodded, breathing into my neck "I could touch them every day and never get tired." With that, my stomach tightened, feeling how my pussy clenched tighter and tighter.

Slowly, he took off my shorts, pulling my panties aside. "This pussy, I love how it welcomes me so well," he said, sliding his middle finger through my folds, reaching my clit. I moaned, writhing on his chest. "Joel..." he silenced me, caressing my hard nipples that cried out to be pinched. "I know, darling." I took his covered cock and squeezed it gently. "Alright," he understood and pulled his cock out of his sweatpants. "Will you let me fuck this pretty cunt?" I nodded. "But first I'll dilate it, I need it to be completely wet for me," he explained, rubbing his finger on my clit. I moaned in response, as I couldn't even form a coherent sentence. I opened my legs, letting him touch me more, feeling how he tickled my part.

I whimpered, moving my hips back, Joel intensified his movements and a sloppy wet sound from my pussy echoed in the small room. "Do you hear that?" I nodded whimpering, "Shit..." Joel shook his head, pulling his fingers out of my pussy, and in seconds I felt the tip of his cock brushing against my entrance. "Ready?" I nodded desperately, spreading my legs wider, but he turned me around, pressing my chest against the mattress with him on my back. "Lift that ass, darling." I obeyed, lifting it for him. "That's right, what a beautiful view." I tried to look at him, but he didn't waste any time and thrust his cock into my cunt.

I complained, gripping the sheet tightly, muffling my loudest noises, but I couldn't resist and shouted loudly "Quiet! you want the neighbors to find out that we're fucking, don't you?" I'm not going to lie, but deep down, it turns me on so bad. I have always fantasized about others hearing how well I'm being fucked. "Naughty girl," he smiled, sliding his cock inside me again, my inner walls tightened around him, eliciting a groan from his throat. "Shit, keep squeezing me..." he couldn't finish his sentence before I squeezed him again "Damn it," thinking I had upset him, I turned my head to look at him, but he grabbed my hair with his fist and pulled it.

"Ugh," I choked on the unexpected movement, feeling my neck twist back. Joel's pace became abrupt, and more so, my body writhed, feeling my climax so close. "Oh God, I'm gonna cum," he mocked my pathetic plea, laughing in my ear. "You'll come when I say so," I moaned loudly, gripping the sheets tightly. "Can't you wait? Huh?" I shook my head, hiding my face in the pillows "I want to cum, please" he didn't say a word, he just thrust into me over and over again.

My pussy couldn't take it much longer, "Let me cum, please!" I said desperately, his cock brushing against my inner walls as if there were no tomorrow, the head of his dick gets bigger inside me, so the hard thrusts became more delicious. I wanted to come as quickly as possible. "You can cum, darling," I lifted my ass towards his pelvis, covering his thicker cock with my sticky juices, some of them dripping from my pussy, staining the sheets. "Ready to be filled? Or... do you want to suck it and feel your juices, sweetheart?" he asked me, pulling my hair and making me look at the wall, "Answer" I closed my eyes thinking about the best option, but I was so messed up that I couldn't even decide properly. "Fill me up," he smiled while stroking my hair, "You want to get pregnant, don't you?" My ears were so messed up that I couldn't hear him properly, so I nodded as I received his white spasms. His load covered my inner walls, warming them and filling them deliciously. "So good..." I moaned, letting my body fall onto the mattress, exhausted.

But then I noticed that Joel wasn't saying a word, not even moving. "Joel?" I said turning my head to look at him, and his eyes were looking at me, but a kind of darkness appeared in them. "Honey?" I called him again, holding his face with both hands. "Would you get pregnant with me?" he asked, and I smiled, hugging him. "Yes! Of course I would, now that you are my husband, I would get pregnant whenever we wanted" he hugged me, wrapping his body around mine "I love you so much" he lifted his body so we could be pressed together, but we could still see each other's faces "I would always support you, no matter what, don't forget that" I nodded while kissing his cheek. "I would never do that. I love you."

After what happened, I found out I was late on my period, so I took a pregnancy test. A bit nervously, I turned the package over and it said: you are pregnant.

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sofmoth · 8 months ago

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I Found My Place in This World (It’s in Your Wake)

here’s my entry for @beefrobeefcal’s september prompt!!! this is fairly out of my comfort zone so i do hope you all enjoy it! title is from 'she's the prettiest girl at the party and she can prove it with a solid right hook' by frank iero, work is not inspired by the song.

the photoshop is MYOB (mind your own business) mkay

also posted to AO3 by me (@sofmoth), link here.

divider created by @animatedglittergraphics-n-more

husband!joel miller x wife!reader, WC: 1.03k

TAGS: husband!joel, anniversary dinner, all the fluff, chubby!joel, marriage has caused joel to gain weight, soft!joel, no physical description is given of reader, reader uses an inhaler, joel is goofin, POV u become one with the couch, joel calls reader “sweetie,” joel jokingly asks if he’s fat, reader jokingly calls themself “delicate," fuck i love this man

It’s officially been one year since you tied the knot, one whole year of living with your husband full-time. Joel had been fairly insistent that you lived separately until you got married, despite the fact that you spent more nights with him than without during your engagement. You never really minded, he had a mortgage to pay on his house but was still more than willing to help you with your rent until the day came.

One year later, and marriage had been good to Joel. His mental health and financial stability had improved, and he seemed overall a happier person. The only drawback seemed to be the effect it had on his waistline. It was only a drawback according to your brother-in-law Tommy; you love the way Joel’s belly had softened over the last twelve months.

No longer was he forgetting to eat breakfast, packing himself a half-assed lunch to take to his job sites, nor was he attempting to pass off three-day-old pizza as a full dinner. If you could go back in time ten years, tell your younger self you have a husband you love cooking for, you would vomit on your own shoes. Being who you are now though, it’s a joy to make him a meal, fulfilling to see how happy it makes him that you’ve ensured he eats well in the early mornings and has proper lunches to keep him strong until dinner. The way he relaxes on the couch with you after, pulling you on top of him to cuddle, the wonderful healthy squish of his tummy between you a reminder to you both that love is not all in the way one looks.

He had been self-conscious at first, when he stepped on the scale and saw the number had increased. You very quickly put that worry to bed, assuring Joel every day that he was still the sexiest man alive. You told him how sexy he was irritatingly regularly, and then he started to believe it. He started walking around the house in his PJ pants with his shirt off again, you begging him to flex, him obliging. Joel’s belly and the weight he gained were the most physical and personal reminders of how much you loved him.

To celebrate this first full year of your marriage, you made a fabulous meal so you could stay in for the night and enjoy it together. Pot roast and potatoes, enough rolls to choke a horse, two or three glasses of wine. Joel is doing the dishes, you lay on the couch watching him across the room. He glances back at you, smiling, and you wave with your fingers. The wine has certainly hit you; you’re not drunk by any stretch, but you’re definitely more comfortable horizontal. You close your eyes, listening to the sink run for a few minutes before the last dish clinks in the drying rack and the water stops.

“Wow. My wife made such an amazing dinner, and I’m so tired from doing those dishes. I think I’d like to sit and rest.” You can hear the dry playfulness in his voice, eyes still closed.

“Boy oh boy, that couch looks comfy. I think I’ll have a seat riiiiight here.” Your eyes fly open, hand covering your mouth as you cackle at the feeling of him sitting on your shins.

“Joel! No, c’mon! If you’re gonna sit on me, at least sit on my thighs. I’m so delicate.” Joel rolls his eyes, smiles as he scoots up.

“You’re right, this cushion is way more comfortable. I think I could fall asleep here, matterfact I just might.”

You reach for him, pinching his side playfully. He does sit on your thighs for a few minutes, arms stretched across the back of the couch, head tilted back and eyes closed. The muscles in your legs finally begin to feel like TV static, and despite the fact that you’ve sobered up considerably it’s still not a particularly pleasant sensation.

“Oh shit, baby my legs are falling asleep. Bit’s over, I gotta move ‘em.” Joel looks down at you, mouth open in mock-offense.

“Is my wife calling me fat? On our one-year wedding anniversary, of all days? How dare you, I cannot believe this.”

Still, he does get up; long enough to lay his entire body on top of yours. He nuzzles into your neck, his beard scratching your skin softly. He sighs deeply, squeezes you in a hug as you rest your hand on his back. And then he raspberries you.

You squeal, laughing wildly as he begins laying a barrage of kisses to your neck and face. You laugh so hard you start struggling to pull in a full breath, and Joel jumps up quickly to get your inhaler out of your purse. You’re still laughing, now coughing and wheezing at the absurdity of the situation. He shakes the little plastic container thoroughly before uncapping it and handing it to you, tugging you upright before you press the canister and inhale.

He rubs your back as you hold your breath, exhaling slowly with you. He presses a kiss to your temple, taking the inhaler back and replacing it in your purse. As he sits back down he pulls you into his lap, cradling you against himself.

“I’m sorry sweetie, I got a little carried away. You feel okay?”

“Yeah, I’m good. It wasn’t full-blown, I was just getting too wound up. Thank you for getting it, though.”

“Of course. Don’t want my wife taking a trip to the emergency room, especially not on our special day. Here, lemme—”

He shifts so he’s laying on his back, holding you on his chest as always. He continues rubbing your back, occasionally kissing the top of your head.

“Hey, husband?”

“Yes, wife?”

“That joke you made about me calling you fat, it wouldn’t matter to me at all if you actually were.”

“I know, sweetie.”

You rub Joel’s shoulder gently with your thumb, feeling yourself growing tired from the steady rhythm and pressure of his hand on your back.

“You can go to sleep, we’ll be okay out here tonight.” You hum.

“Joel?”

“Yeah, sweetie?”

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

#joel miller x reader #joel miller fic #fanfiction #fanfic #husband!joel #husband!joel miller #chubby!joel #wife!reader #wifeguy!joel #joel sat on me 2024 #fic prompt challenge #september prompt challenge #moth hollerin

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chaotic-iguana · 2 years ago

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Hello, I would like to request a story about Joel (no apocalypse) who picking up reader from their workplace. However, as the reader is walking towards the car, she experience a hit-and-run accident or another type of accident (you can choose freely).

Joel, who witnesses the accident becomes extremely panicked and protective during and after reader out the hospital. Joel is deeply traumatized and afraid that something bad might happen to the reader. I need fluff and angst Joel and you are excellent at creating it 🥺💖

thank you anon! you’re so sweet, i really appreciate you and the prompt! im going to make this an installment of the husband! joel verse (introduced in tease)

Borrowed time

Summary: Reader gets hurt, and Joel doesn’t know how to deal with it. (no-outbreak! au)

Wordcount: 1.7K

Pairing: husband joel x f! reader (no use of y/n)

Warning: angst, hurt/comfort, near-death experiences, blood, a little gore, allusions to sex

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Your car had broken down last week, so Joel had been dropping you off and picking you up from work. You’d resisted at first, suggested walking or cycling or even the bus - all of which had been met with the same incredulous expression etched onto your husband’s face, an eyebrow raised at you in amusement. ‘As if, honey’ was all he’d snark at you before shushing you when you tried to argue about the fact that this would add an hour and a half to his route after dropping Sarah off in the mornings and two hours in the evenings, which felt unsustainable for you since your car was at the mechanic’s garage for the foreseeable future. At that, he’d just huff and mumble something about not minding the extra time with you that much, and your heart would just melt again.

The two of you settled into the new routine fairly quickly; Joel chuckling at your sleepy grumbling in the mornings and getting teased by you when he was grumpier and complaining about his aching back in the evenings. “Too far past your bedtime, old man?”, paired with a shit-eating grin as you watched him scowl and shake his head at you, turning back to the road as his lips twitched ever-so-slightly upwards. Enough for you to make iterations of the same joke every evening, just to watch him fight his smile.

On a seemingly normal thursday morning, you’d been slightly distracted by a meeting you had with your bosses. The board of directors, actually, and the anxiety was practically crippling you by the time Joel was ushering you and Sarah into his truck. There was just so much that could go wrong, but if it went right, it would result in a massive promotion with a pretty nifty raise and four-day work weeks. Which sounds amazing, but you were sure it would feel even better. A whole extra day?

Joel rested a hand on your knee to stop its bouncing, the warmth of his palm seeping through your jeans and immediately crushing the wave of nervousness that had been rising in you. “Look at me, sweetheart. You’re gonna crush it. And ‘f for whatever reason you don’t, we’ll go out an’ watch that movie you’d been wantin’ to, even pig out on icecream after. Whaddya call it? Self-care.” His words made you burst out laughing and lean over to kiss his cheek.

“That actually sounds good. And for the record, I call taking a bubble bath self care, not swallowing five pints of icecream at three am. Like you apparently have the ability to.” He mock-frowned while beaming in the rear-view mirror.

“Technically honeymoons are to learn new things about each other. Plus, we’d been fuckin’ an’ passin’ out with damn near no breaks f’thirty six hours at that point. A man’s gotta have some fuel to keep up with that kinda pace, no?” He snickered as he glanced at you with a pointed look. To be fair, you had, in fact been fucking till you passed out for the first three days of your trip to Italy, and you’d both only realised how hungry you were when neither of you had the energy to leave the bed. It was three am, and for some inconceivable reason, most restaurants had closed. So Joel had walked into the nearest grocery and just gotten 5 huge tubs of icecream and some waterbottles. While it worked great as fuel, you and Joel had been forced to spend two consecutive days holding each others’ hair back and eating proper meals, because as it turns out, eating four meals’ worth of icecream on empty stomachs does not sit well.

“Seemed pretty good at keeping up when you fingered me in a full restaurant just because the waiter asked to get some wine for your missus.” You retorted back, shaking your head at how insatiable he’d been, too. It had taken a whole week for the nearl-feral glint in his eyes while referring to you his wife to fade - even then, not completely.

“Never gonna tire of hearin’ that, you know.” Turning the corner to pull up to your stop, he leaned down for a sweet, slow kiss before leaning back to whisper softly. “You’re gonna do well, baby. You’re the smartest person I’ve ever seen, alright? Don’t you worry about a damn thing.” At your wordless nod, he kissed your forehead. “Go get ‘em, honey.” With nod and a parting greeting, you turn and walked into the building.

After a long but extremely successful day, you rushed out of work the second your phone buzzed with Joel’s message, practically vibrating with the need to give him the good news. Brows furrowing, you scanned your surroundings looking for his truck. You caught his wave out of the corner of your eye and returned it with a breathless laugh, striding in his direction and failing to notice the smudge of black approaching your side rapidly. The last thing you saw before your vision went black was Joel’s wide, panicked eyes and the urgency with which he pushed his door and stumbled out. For a second, it felt like you were in the air, limbs flailing. A second of impact; a sharp pain settling in your right leg, before you were out.

Your eyes heaved open, blurry, and you heaved your head to the side to see Joel holding your hand and stroking your head, tears running down his face. You were lying in the middle of the road, surrounded by a crowd of concerned passengers. Joel’s mouth was moving, but you couldn’t hear him- in fact, you couldn’t hear anything except for a high-pitched tone buzzing in your ear. There was blood on his shirt, and before you could ask whose it was, you noticed it coated your hands, too. Looking down, you caught a glimpse of your thigh, flesh ripped open as bone jut out from its side, just before your eyes rolled back and consciousness slipped from your grasp once again.

When you woke, it took you far too much effort to wrench your eyes open. Blinking against the painfully blinding lights overhead, you opened your mouth to call someone, anyone, to explain where the hell you were and why the beeping coming from next to you was so damn loud. Even your thoughts were lagging, unable to piece together why you were in this room that definitely wasn’t your own. Images of your previous waking moments flashing in your mind, you felt alarm building in your chest as your breath began coming in short gasps. Suddenly, something in your peripheral vision moved and suddenly Joel was here, his large hand cupping your face as he urged you to breathe. It took a minute - maybe even more- for lucidity to return to your rapidly-spiraling mind, but he stayed unwaveringly calm as he held you patiently and waited for you to come back.

“W-“ you wince at the dryness of your throat, at how hoarse your voice sounds from lack of use. “What happened?” You tried again, clearing your throat this time. Joel’s soft eyes met yours, lips turned downwards in a frown.

“Fuckin’ idiot drivin’ a car was on his phone, texting when you started crossin’ the road. Bastard didn’t see ya, and one second you were smilin’ so sweet at me, an’ by the next you were on the floor, bone stickin’ outta your thigh. Closest I’ve ever been to a heart attack.” You could fear fraying at the edges of his voice as you moved your hand up to hold his, cradling it to your cheek. “Asshole drove away, too. Didn’t even get his number plate ‘cause I was so fuckin’ scared for you.” He looked away, tears filling his eyes.

Reaching out to stroke his jaw, you nudged him to look at you again. “‘M sorry, honey. Should have been more careful. Think I would have gone crazy if I ever had to see you like that.” You murmured, feeling your heart break at seeing Joel this scared, this frantic. He shook his head.

“Not your fault, baby. None ‘f it, ya hear me? ‘M just so glad you’re okay. Rest up, sweetheart, you need it right now.” You nod, kissing the back of his hand as you lean back in your bed.

The next few days in the hospital go by in a blur, Joel refusing to leave your side for a single minute. His hand is always somewhere on you: holding yours, stroking your face, your hair. Sarah hadn’t come in at your request; you hadn’t wanted her to see you in a hospital bed, unable to move much. When the time to get discharged rolled around, Joel seemed even tenser, his grip on you tighter. It took some time for you to get the cast taken off, which on one hand was an extreme relief, it also meant that you now had to attend regular physiotherapy sessions to regain full mobility.

The real adjustment, however, was the way Joel would straighten and tense up any time you left home after that. The way he grabbed your hand when you crossed streets; accompanying you even to the pharmacy down the block. At first, it irked you. Then, you realised what he had been through. If the roles had been reversed, you’d want to accompany him everywhere too. His fear was very real and very valid - one of his worst nightmares had just taken place in front of him, afterall, and if all he needed to feel a bit better was to walk you to places you needed to go, then you’d indulge him for as long as it took for him to realise that you were safe.

It lasted a few months, but as you returned to normal, so did he. Your car came back from the garage, but Joel still drove you. Not because of his fear, or because he had to, but just to revel in that extra hour he got out of it. He’d learned that time was precious, and he wanted to spend every conceivable second of his with you and Sarah.

hello loves, as always - thank you for reading. comment your thoughts or find me on ao3. stay hydrated and have a great day! taglist: @imherefordeanandbones @theywhowriteandknowthings, @josephquinnswhore AMAZING dividers by @cafekitsune!! absolute god who makes amazing dividers for free!

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joeldjarin · 1 year ago

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builtaworldwithyourlove · 10 months ago

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Free Falling

Chapter Two

2k/ (eventual) husband!joel x f!reader /minors dni

‘I felt very still and very empty, the way the eye of a tornado must feel’

Summary: you take the leap to leave your stagnant relationship, and end up falling into the arms of a man who will give you the life you always dreamed of.

Content: loveless relationship, mention of TW: domestic violence, emotional abuse, age gap (reader is mid-late 20s, Joel is late 30s-mid 40s), angst, allusions of cheating, sad sad sad but Joel will save the day, slow burn, smut, fluff, oc(reader’s boyfriend and friends/family), mention of reader grieving loss of her dad, swearing, smoking, alcohol consumption, lovely lovely baby boy Joel, reader is a sweetheart, sexual tension, no smut just yet, some physical description of reader, Let me know if I’ve missed anything.

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Saturday morning was glorious. Your bedroom was fortunately positioned so that the sun shone through your white cotton curtains, and woke you up naturally. Although you didn’t get to revel in the peace for long, as Leo decided to scale the curtains and cry for help as he got stuck in limbo.

With a sigh, you rolled out of bed. You scooped Leo up in your arms and held him whilst you made the rounds opening all the windows and setting the house up for the day.

The coffee machine was the most important visit of the day. You were an early riser, so your 7am coffee was the surest way to keep you somewhat personable. You put some music on and started to tidy your kitchen, when your phone started ringing. It was Joel.

‘Morning, could you text me your address? I’ll be there within the hour.’

‘Sure! I’ll get the coffee ready now’ you replied.

Joel chuckled ‘See ya.’

Someone’s not a morning person, you thought to yourself.

You let Joel know to let himself in round the back in case you didn’t answer as you were getting yourself ready. You ran up the stairs, trying to ignore the excitement in your chest. It would be the first time you’d have some potential male attention, although he was an old family friend, surely he wouldn’t see you in that way. You got out of your head, made your bed and sprayed it with your fabric freshener, then lit a stick of incense followed by your favourite sedona sandstone candle.

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You showered and drenched yourself in cocoa butter and your Flora Luminare perfume. The doorbell rang and you skipped downstairs to answer.

Joel stood there, towering over you. He was gorgeous. Chiselled, tanned, the deepest brown eyes and softest looking lips.

He stood there taking you in. You were shorter than him, your hair fell down to your waist and he was encompassed by a cloud of your scent. He could’ve fallen to his knees in awe of you. He remembered the brief moments he had seen you before. It was always after one too many beers, but he knew he found you were beautiful. You made him laugh too, you were always as if butter wouldn’t melt, trying to keep your asshole ex-boyfriend sweet. But he remembered you sneaking smokes in the front yard at family parties, or downing a shot of tequila in the kitchen on your own when things got too much. The sparkle in your eyes never dulled, and your smile never faded.

‘Hey, thanks for coming so early’ you smiled.

Joel shook himself out of his daze. He winked at you and put his hand on your shoulder.

‘No problem, show me the damage darling.’

His eyes twinkled and he smirked as you placed your hand on Joel’s. You squeezed his hand and gestured him in.

He examined every part of your house on the way to your bedroom. The baby pink accents, the kitten toys scattered all over the place, and the framed pictures of you with your friends and family.

You quickly joined him with a mug of coffee. You sat cross-legged on the bed. You were wearing baby pink yoga pants and a plain white cropped tee. He looked you up and down, very brazen and not ashamed. You blushed and adjusted yourself to let Leo join you.

‘You the clumsy type then?’ Joel sized up the hole in the wall, and looked over his shoulder at you, with an eyebrow raised.

‘Erm, my ex-boyfriend. Fragile masculinity and alcohol’ you looked down and Joel cringed. He faced you and rested his hands on his hips. Your throat went dry and you couldn’t tell if you were turned on or terrified of being told off for letting yourself in that situation.

‘I’m sorry, baby’ Joel dropped his head and started fixing the wall.

You watched him intently. His arms flexing as he worked his magic. You let Joel finish as you went downstairs to fix up some food for him to take with him.

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‘The wall’s fixed. Anything else I can do?’ Joel startled you and you hopped round and laughed.

He took the second mug of coffee you offered him and gazed at you.

‘I need my locks changed’ you rifled down your drawers unable to find the replacement locks, then you remembered you had put them in your glass cabinet.

The pictures of your dad faced outward as you opened the door to the cabinet, and Joel felt his heart drop. He was so fond of your dad, and couldn’t imagine the shit you had been through this past year.

He chuckled and took the locks out of your hands.

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‘I’m all done, is that everything?’ Joel poked his head round the doorway of your dressing room. You grinned as you finished applying your lipgloss and turned around to Joel.

‘Yes thank you, Mr Miller’ you winked.

He turned as if to go. ‘Wait, wait, wait’ you clambered up out of your seat, ‘I’ll see you out.’

Joel gestured to let you lead the way and you half curtsied. He was intrigued. You were so high energy and like a ball of sunshine, and he felt like he was 18 again.

He got his stuff ready and began to head back to the car.

‘Erm, Joel. I’m having my family and friends round tonight for some drinks. I’d love you to come, to say thank you for your help. Clara and Rufus will be there, so will Mum and the girls’ you felt embarrassed and desperate, but Joel made you feel safe.

‘I wouldn’t miss it for the world, text me a time’ Joel winked and waved as he headed back towards his truck.

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You were a woman infatuated. Joel occupied every corner of your mind. You slid on your flip flops and grabbed your purse before heading to get food and drink for your night of hosting.

You stopped off to drop Rufus and Clara’s lunch to their shop.

‘Now when were you going to tell me Mr Miller is devastatingly handsome?’ You burst through the door of the florist.

‘Well I thought it would be a welcome surprise’ Clara smirked.

‘He’s already called. Said he’s looking forward to seeing us tonight, and that you are an absolute angel.’ Rufus hooked his arm around you, roughing you up as you both do.

‘Eeek! I’m obsessed’ you twirled round and waved yourself out the door. You blew a kiss and practically waltzed down to your car.

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‘Come here anytime from 4:30pm. Wear something pretty😉’ you felt bold after the margaritas you had downed whilst getting ready with the girls. Lottie, Jess and Rhea were your absolute world. You were dancing around the bedroom and dressing room, blaring your music and feeling half tipsy.

It was 3:37pm, and Joel sat at home waiting restlessly to leave. He decided to call your Auntie and Uncle and get a lift with them.

‘Who are you texting?’ Rhea snatched your phone out of your hand.

‘Stop, you can’t even judge me on this. He’s the hottest man I’ve ever seen. He fixed some bits up in the house yesterday. Knows Rue and Clara, an old family friend. He’s coming tonight’ you girls all squealed in unison.

Rhea still had your phone and headed straight to Facebook. She got Joel’s profile up right away and mocked you with it. She accidentally liked a photo from 3 years ago, and her face dropped. You all went silent before freaking out. She threw your phone to the center of your bed.

It lit up:

Facebook:

One new friend request- Joel Miller

Chaos ensued, and you were quick to accept it.

Joel texted you letting you know they were on their way. You felt giddy.

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Your mum and sisters arrived and you set your sisters up in the summerhouse at the end of the garden with some of their friends they had bought along. You made them mocktails and let them have free roam of your beauty drawers and facemasks beforehand.

You switched on the fairylights around your garden, and you and the girls sat debriefing on life with your mum and her best friend.

Joel and the rest of your family creeped round through the side gate. You stood up to greet them and your auntie and uncle held you tightly before sauntering off to see your mum and sisters. A few more family acquaintances turned up, and people you know and love, but this was all a daze as Joel kissed your cheek and pulled you in for a cuddle.

His dark curls were swept backwards, with the exception of one that fell over his forehead. ‘Thank you for having me’ he whispered into your ear.

You traced down his arms to his hands, and you squeezed them as if to say thank you. His hands lingered on your waist, perhaps a second too long and the girls couldn’t help but wolf whistle.

Joel laughed, and headed over to meet everyone.

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The night was beautiful, everyone had too much food and drink, but everyone was happy and content. Your sisters and friends had crashed out in the spare room, which was fine, you loved having guests. Your mum left after you assuring her you’d be fine to drop the girls off home tomorrow. Your friends had booked an uber to go to the club, but you were more of a homebody, plus Joel had stuck around and you didn’t want him to leave.

You cleared the glasses and bottles away in the kitchen, Joel offered to help but he sat at the table and watched you instead.

You offered him a cigarette from your hidden box which was in the empty biscuit tin. You sat next to eachother on the backdoor step. The sun was setting and it caressed his features and soaked them in a golden hue. Everything had been moving in double speed since you met him, and now was the first time you got to take in every bit about him, and was also the first time you noticed he did the same to you. He made you laugh until your stomach hurt, and you made him feel relaxed. As you laughed, you leaned into his side, and he wrapped his arm over your shoulders and placed a kiss upon the top of your head.

You looked up at him and he kissed you. Deeply and passionately and carefully. You relaxed your arms over his shoulders and as you deepened the kiss. Then tested the waters and held onto his neck, under his jawline, and pulled him towards you.

‘I wanted to do this since I saw you,’ Joel tilted his forehead pressed against yours, and you grinned. ‘What are you doing tomorrow?’

‘No plans, tackling the aftermath of this I think. Why do you ask?’ Joel stroked your thigh with his thumb. It was cold from nursing a beer, but it was welcome.

‘Would you like to go on a date with me?’ Joel felt shy, and anxious.

‘I wouldn’t want to do anything else. Text me the details, and I’ll be there’ you blushed and kissed his cheek.

‘I’ll pick you up at 5pm baby’ Joel kissed your cheek and headed out as he stumbled towards the cab he had booked.

He sat in the back of the cab and motioned a phone with his hand and mouthed call me. You blew a kiss and waved him off, giggling like a school girl as he waved out of the window of the car.

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You showered and headed to bed, high on life and feeling like you were floating.

‘Good evening Mr Miller’ you tried your best at flirting, and following Joel’s orders to call him.

‘I’ve been wondering when you’d call’ he yawned.

‘Bad timing?’

‘Never bad timing with you. I’d answer your call at any second of any day.’ His southern drawl flipped your stomach.

‘I’ll remember that, I may need you a lot from now on.’ You rolled over and snuggled into your pillow.

‘You get some sleep baby. I can’t wait to see you tomorrow’

You hung up the phone, texted Joel goodnight and slept through the night in peace.

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